Monday, February 02, 2004

Jaded Mandarin

So I am completely new to the online journal thing. I have been reading them and decided that I will try my hand at one. I could just post one on my website, but I am pretty sure this gets more traffic.

Well, I am sitting here listening to the Italia music channel on Dish Network. I have become ever so slightly obsessed with it in the past month or so. I mean, I have always loved Etta James, Ella Fitzgerald, and Billy Holiday, but they are not exactly in the category of "Italia" I suppose. Actually the only link between them and this is Frank Sinatra, and that is really stretching it.

Listening to "Get Out of Town" by Lena Horne led me to start an online journal. It made perfect sense to me. You do not have to follow my chain of reasoning. I cannot expect anyone to. By the first chorus, I knew I needed a journal. I am kind of awkward in that sense. Well not awkward. That is not the word I need. I'll go with "random," I suppose. Although that is an overused word as well. I am just weird. Wait, lost my point. Oh well, moving on.

About homosexuals, I have decided that I need to be a stereotypical fashion-addict in a turquoise tubetop, fucking everything in my path. They are annoying as hell, but at least they seem content. I mean, I have really high standards. When I meet someone, I would like him to be physically attractive. I would be lying if I said I wanted to get with Quasimodo. Physical attraction is a plus, but I need someone who has a sense of humor and has at least the intelligence of a jar of mayonaise. Someone who is not all about sex. Someone who I can sit and talk to for 26 hours straight and never get bored. Is that too much to ask? Probably. Well, here, in the South, it is anyway. I do realize that I am young and do not have to settle down right now, but I long for that companionship. I wish I did not, but I do. What can I say.

I am tired of these hard bodied, "how big's your cock/dong/dick/schlong/penis/peter/tallypeter/teeter/it/thing?", cracked out, X'ed up fairies. That is why I have decided that I am straight curious. I mean, why not. I have found several girls with whom I could spend the rest of my life. Granted, we would never consummate the relationship, but hey, it is just sex. I mean, I handled that for about ten years on my own. I can handle it now.

So I met a guy who is military. He is great and we have more in common than I ever thought I would find with another individual outside of a mirror or my other personalities. A lady I work with told me to remember my chastity belt. I did for our first couple of meetings, but forgot it the last time I saw/spoke to him. The hell was I thinking? Honestly, it was totally unlike me to get so caught up in the moment. Now, I have not heard from him. Annoyed? Pretty much. Maybe I should move to New Orleans and become a prostitute. At least then I would be getting paid. Not that I run around screwing every hole I see, but it just seems to make sense to me right now. Prostitution, that is.

I just do not have casual sex. Maybe, I should just not care, lower my standards, and start doing the dirty-dirty with every Tom's Hairy Dick that I come across. I could not do that. It is just frustrating. Am I the only sane queer left in the world?! I wonder most days.