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Jason Rimbaud

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  1. Jason Rimbaud

    ?????

    By Jason Rimbaud,

    I wonder, at this moment in my life, if I should care about anything.
    I have this feeling, a feeling that rips me up inside, if I should even bother with trying to be a human.
    The only thing I can say, at this present moment, is I don't care about anything. Anyone?
    Life is too hard sometimes. Too the point where I wonder why I bother trying to make it fluffy white bunny clouds. Life sucks, existing sucks. I don't want to end it, but why should I bother to give a fuck? Pretending that it's okay is pointless. At the end of the day, there is only one being in bed with me. And right now, "ME" thinks life sucks. Fuck it, it's almost been a year, maybe it should all go away.
    Jason R. should go the way of the dodo. Maybe I should end it with a whimper? Or maybe I should grow a pair of balls and let everyone know my name. Admit the truth, let the world know the one behind it all.
    I hate feeling this way, I hate being ashamed. I hate everything.
    Fuck it. It's been a year, the charade should stop.
  2. Jason Rimbaud
    "I'll Never Wear Boxers Again"
    Wibby posted a rather funny story that prompted me to remember a similar incident involving one of my good friends. So I thought I?d share it with my loyal readers. (maybe I should?ve said loyal reader, I don?t want to become to ambitious)
    Anyway, during my late teens and early twenties, one of my best friends was also named Jason. We worked together and were known as the ?two Jason?s? or simply as ?Jason Squared?. After we both turned twenty-one, each Monday night we?d go out for our weekly pub crawl. This night was reserve for just the two of us, no friends, no girlfriends, and no problems.
    It was during these weekly binges that I first told him I was gay. True to his devil may care attitude and laid back demeanor, he took this declaration in stride. Though looking back, I kind of wished he would have been more upset. This would?ve saved me tons of heartache. But I digress?yet again.
    Jason and I were always comfortable around one another. It was common for us to sleep in the same bed, granted, we were passed out. But waking up snuggled together was something that happened often. Before I told him I was gay, we?d go double dating and the girls would often complain that we?d spend more time talking to each other than paying attention to them. Looking back, it was quite obvious that sooner or later we?d start fooling around.
    The first time something happened between was after one of these pub crawls. We had stopped at a gas station to get cigarettes and sodas on the way home from the bar. Jason had to go to the bathroom, so I paid for the grocery?s and waited for him in the truck. After he climbed inside the truck, I noticed he had this weird look on his face and for the rest of the way home; he acted strangely, nervous and giggly at the same time. I chalked it up to a long night of beer.
    Once back inside my apartment, he was flirtatious, in a way he had never been before. I was drunk and getting hornier the more he carried on. After about twenty minutes of this weird flirting, I informed him I was going to bed. It wasn?t that I was really that tired, but I really wanted to toss one off. He looked down at the floor and in this quiet voice, he asked if he could stay with me. He didn?t ask if he could crash, he didn?t ask if he could sleep over, he asked if he could stay with me. For a moment, because I really wanted to jack off, I almost said no. But I never could tell him no, even now, I can?t say no.
    Anyway, and no that was not a digress. So there.
    I took off my clothes, and slipped into a pair of shorts. He asked if he could borrow a pair of boxers to sleep in, something I thought was a really strange request. Jason did not then, nor does he now wear boxers, EVER. I gave him a pair and he went into the bathroom to change. Another thing that was strange.
    I climbed into bed and turned off the lights, and waited. After a few minutes, I heard the bathroom door open and heard footsteps down the hall. The door to my room opened and in walked this?glowing cock. While he was in the bathroom at the gas station, he had bought a glow in the dark condom from the machine on the wall.
    I was more than taken aback, yet intrigued at the same time. I said something along the line of ?nice cock?. To this, Jason laughed and flipped on the lights. It was not his cock that was in the condom, but three of his fingers. We laughed and once again he turned off the lights. I could see him slowly coming towards me, his pretend cock wagging before him leading the way to the bed. I admit I watched him walk towards me wishing that really was his cock.
    Once he reached the bed, he started giggling again, and I watched the hand that had the condom on it move to his side. I saw the condom disappear and realized his fingers were inside the boxers. I realized he was pulling down his boxers when another glow in the dark condom suddenly appeared. Being that he was two feet away from me, this time I could tell that this one really was his cock.
    He took another step, his crotch now inches from my face; I could smell him he was so close. The hand that hand the condom on it, moved from his side to grip his very hard cock. I heard him whisper, ?Do you like what you see?? I didn?t answer, I couldn?t. I didn?t want to risk destroying this moment. I reached out with my hand and touched his cock. He sighed loudly, my wish had come true. Needless to say, neither of us got much sleep that night.
    A few years later, in the after glow, he would admit that for months he was racking his brain, trying to conceive a plan of attack to seduce me. But he wanted to make sure I was interested in something sexual before trying anything. After his admission, it was clear how thought out and methodical he had been. From the constant touching, the sleeping together, suggesting naked hot tubing, everything had been done with the purpose to get me into bed. I asked, why didn?t you just ask me? He replied that I had said shortly after I met him, that I would never have sex with a friend.
    This caused me to laugh, because though he was in the room, it was the girl sitting next to him that I really wanted to hear me say that I would never have sex with my friends. She had been throwing herself at me and I had no desire to catch her. Lots of wasted time, I could?ve saved so much time if I would have just said, guys, I?m gay. Anyway, still not digressing.
    So Jason and I were friends with benefits. To be honest, I was completely head over heels in love with him. And no matter what he says, I know for a time, he loved me as well. Shortly after this incident, he moved in with me and for the next two years, we were almost inseparable. But being gay was/is something he denies being. He?s told me, and I believe him, that I was the only guy he was ever attracted too. I was the best man in his wedding, and the night before he promised to forsake all others, he asked me to fuck him one last time. Okay, this might be digressing. Jesus, be patient already.
    To get around to the point of this post, one night, during those two years that we lived together, we had gotten home after Monday?s pub crawl. Both of us were quite trashed. At the time, he was dating this chick that was away at college and I was trying really hard to catch this nerdy little boy I had been chatting up online. So once back from the bar, I immediately jumped on the computer to see if my boy was up for some dirty talk. He was, and for about an hour, I was content to do some chit and some chat.
    DIGRESSION ALERT! Ever since that first night, whenever I saw Jason in boxers, usually a pair of mine, I knew that he was looking to fool around. If he was wearing briefs, then I was going to be tossing one off alone.
    Like I said, I was chatting for about an hour, when I heard Jason open the door to his room. From where my desk was against the wall, I could turn my head and see Jason?s bed if the door was open. He walked out, wearing a pair of boxers, and headed into the kitchen where he got a drink. Walking back towards his room, he looked at me and smiled. I noticed right away he was rock hard.
    Yet on the computer, my nerdy boy was almost ready to finally meet me in person. We were so close, I could feel it. I looked at the screen, I looked back to Jason, he was now lying on his bed, naked, slowly stroking his cock. I didn?t know what to do, I was horny, ten feet away was a willing boy, yet I kind of liked this nerdy boy as well. But Jason, jacking off while saying my name only a few feet away, and honestly the love of my life, won.
    I walked into his room, he looked at me and smiled, his hand stopped. He pointed his cock in my direction, silently telling me to have my way with him. So I did.
    It was just starting to get fun when suddenly he begun puking his guts out. I was sober enough to get out of the way, but he puked all over his bed, all over himself. It was quite the mood wrecker. Once he finished, he headed into the bathroom and jumped into the shower. Being the neat freak that I am, I cleaned up the mess and threw the sheets in the washer.
    Figuring the night was over, I went back to the computer to see if nerdy boy was still online. He was, again we started chatting. A few minutes later, Jason comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered and still wet with a raging hard cock. He smiles at me, and heads into my room. Needless to say, I never did meet nerdy boy.
    Jason and I had this weird relationship for years. When we were alone, late at night, we would fuck for hours. But it was something we?d never talk about during the day. We had dozens of unspoken rules that we both followed, silently and in secret for years. Never speaking about or acknowledging our lust filled nights.
    Until the day I met his fianc? for the first time. We were talking over dinner, and Jason and I were reliving some of our wilder times. And he gets this smile on his face, and suddenly brings up the time he almost pukes on me. Of course she wants to know why we were in bed together in the first place. I was at a loss for words, but Jason smoothly told her a rated G version of the story.
    Later, when she had gone to the bathroom, he started laughing, saying something about the look on my face. I didn?t think it was funny, remember, I was still in love with him and more than a bit jealous. He leaned in close and whispered, ?You give the best head I?ve ever received. And I know I can?t love you the way you want me too, but sex with you is something I?ll never forget, no matter who I marry.?
    It was the first time he ever admitted to fucking me while sober. But it was the right thing to say, because that statement convinced me to agree to be his best man. Sadly, I?ve not seen him since the wedding. I hear he has a baby girl now, and I wish him the happiest of lives. And though our friendship has fallen away, I?ll always have the memories of that apartment and the time we spent together.
    Jason R.
    PS: During that night I met his fianc?, she brought up the fact that he refuses to wear boxers. Jason and I exchanged looks, and started laughing. He kissed her, then said, ?I love you, but I?ll never wear boxers. I used too for a time but I stopped.? The night before his wedding, he was wearing boxers.
  3. Jason Rimbaud

    "N" And I

    By Jason Rimbaud,


    Life In Glasses
    So I had plans. Much like every other person on the planet, I had plans for my future. It involved moving out of San Francisco and going someplace where “N” and I could buy a house and maybe start a family. And much like every other person on the planet, March 16th, 2020 happened and the whole world went absolutely bat-shit crazy.
    As of this current writing, it is October 12th, 2020 and I have been married for one year and two months with the most amazing person on this bat-shit crazy planet. (truthfully, when I first started writing this entry, it was my one year anniversary but things got away from me as it often does when you always get distracted by bright shiny objects)
    Over the course of my life, I have made some mind-numbing stupid decisions. I have more sophomoric mistakes and regrets than any one person should have to endure while still maintaining the fiction that he is somewhat intelligent. But if you look back at the entries of just this Blog, you will find the most asinine circumstances one could find them in. Granted, all of them avoidable if I had even an ounce of intelligence but I digress.
    For those of you that have not had the pleasure of meeting “N”, he is perfect in every single way…and yet he is also the most flawed human being that means the world to me. He is irritating while somehow making me laugh at the most inopportune times. He’s serious to a fault, not understanding irony in the slightest way, and often leaves me scratching my head in amazement/confusion. He is also the most loving person I have ever had the pleasure of sharing my bed with. I have never been so much in love while suppressing urges to strangle him at the same time.
    Like someone famous once said, Context is King, I’ll relay a little story to demonstrate how his mind works. Two days/weeks/months ago, I was at work while he was enjoying a day off, I sent him a text, “What are you doing?” (And for full disclosure, I don’t use abbreviations when texting…ever) His response, “Studying.” So I texted, “Are you naked?” After a few moments/minutes/hours/days of staring at the three black dots, he finally responds, “Why would I be naked, its cold outside”.
    Have I mentioned he doesn’t know how to flirt? And lying is not in his nature, so I’m stuck with an Indian Spock. (very logical at all times)
    My plans to move from a city that I’ve grown to hate for more reasons than I could relay to you, is on hold indefinitely. Why you might ask? Mainly because “N” has decided to change careers after being in the restaurant industry his entire life. And while we reside in San Francisco, he can take classes for free. By the way, is it any wonder that this very serious individual wants to become a CPA.
    So my amazing husband is working full time and going to school, virtually, full time. And I’m stuck in a job I no longer like but after all it is for our future so I soldier on.
    I’ve told “N” I love him a thousand times a thousand times. And yet, when I first saw him in his Sherwani, traditional wedding attire, I immediately started to cry. He came out of the door where he had been sequestered and I swear, my heart skipped a beat. The song was playing and everyone in the space was staring at us, our eyes connected, and in that moment, I understood what unconditional love looked like, what it felt like, and what it meant fully realized for the rest of my life.
    No matter how many years we will get together, I know I will always look back on that single moment and wonder in amazement, how the hell I became so lucky to have him in my life.
    So yes, the world is a bit bat-shit crazy right now, and yes I might be living in a city I no longer hold dear, but I get to be with him, and that makes life perfect.
  4. Jason Rimbaud
    Current Music Selection: Robbie Williams--Intensive Care
    Current State: Sober (somewhat)
    Current Mood: Relaxed
    So now that its football season, every Sunday I hang out at the Old Pro. Its this really cool sports
    bar in Palo Alto. They have fifteen flat screens, high def of course, that you can see from every seat
    in the bar. Insert screaming like a little girl. And the best part, they have an outdoor patio with two flat screens and you can smoke, eat hot wings, drink beer and watch football all day. All this and heaven
    to. There just might be a god, and if there is, its okay if he/she hates me for sucking cock. I mean,
    football, cigarettes, beer, hot wngs. Yeeeeeaaaaaahhhhh
    Over the course of the day, Daniel and I are joined by various friends who come to the bar to watch
    me lose my mind. Though they leave after a while, I guess spending the entire day inside with
    screaming breeders is to much for them.
    Football season is something I take extremely serious. Not only do I wear my lucky 49'ers jersesy every Sunday but I have the cutest matching underwear with the team logo over the crotch. How butch is
    that?
    Over in the corner of the Old Pro, they have a bull riding machine thingy. But will get back to that later
    on.
    The day of football had its disappointments. The niners got spacked though they started coming together after the half. Anyway, being the loudest person in the bar and naturally fabulous, I began making
    friends with the hot college guys sitting at the next table. When I want to, I can turn off camp and butch it
    up with the best of the breeders. As long as they never see my underwear.
    I'm sure they figured out I was gay by the hugging and kissing I did to each of my friends as they arrived and as they left. (Even my straight friends much to their chagrin. If thats the only way I can touch
    then so be it) But they seemed cool with the chit and chat we were doing all day. I even bought them some
    drinkie poos. Okay, they called it beer but whatever.
    One of these hot college studs seemed to show me more attention then the others. Like maybe his closet door was opened a crack and he had convinced himself he was "bi" curious. Like they say, its still
    experimenting as long as you're in college. After college, you're a big ole' queer. Where was I?
    Hot college stud and I were doing a little chit and chat, discussing the niners chances at a winning season, musing over whether ketchup or musturd is the only condiment for a hotdog, which cheerleader was
    the hottest. Hey, whatever it takes. He even joined me a few times for a smoke on the patio.
    Okay, everytime he went for a smoke I followed. There, I admit it. Are you happy?
    After the niners had lost, I was feeling pretty buzzed. And bored. Which is never a good combination for
    people such as I. For weeks now, since the Old Pro re-opened, I have been staring at the bull riding machine thingy wanting to try it. But every time Daniel talked me out of it. So to get around the old queen,
    I waited until he went into the bathroom and made my move.
    By the time Daniel returned from the bathroom, I had already signed the waiver and paid my three
    dollars. Much to my happiness, the bull riding machine thingy operator informed him there were no refunds.
    And with his tight ass frugile saving money ways, he couldn't in good conscious let me waste three dollars.
    So with a smile, i jumped into the padded area and climbed atop this fake bull.
    Now the college guys were crowding around the bull riding machine thingy pen and joking around that I
    could never stay on. So I offered them a challenge. I threw the gauntlet down as it were, though I had to use my hat i had forgotten my gauntlet in my other underwear.
    My challenge came out sort of like this: "If I can stay on this bull riding machine thingy for longer than one minute then hot college stud had to give me his number." I pointed at the one I was smoking with all
    afternoon.
    Hot college stud immediately countered with, "Make it three minutes and you have a deal."
    So the bull riding machine thingy operator asked if I was ready. I waved and raised my hand. Using the
    same techniques I would on any other thing I ride, I gripped with my knees and held on tightly to the small handle right between my legs.
    I must admit, it was easier than it looked. Yeah, for the first thirty seconds until the bull riding machine
    thingy operator turned the knob to eleven (Spinal Tap reference number one) and that damn thing went one way and I went the other and I crushed my own nuts. But I was determined to last for the full three minutes. It would be nice to last for three minutes wouldn't it?
    I'd love to say I made it the full three minutes. I'd like to say after I won and the bull riding machine thingy stopped, I ripped off my niners jersey and I showed the bar the shirt I was wearing under my lucky jersey. Which is a pink shirt with big black letters stating this phrase "I Fucked Your Brother" And that hot
    college stud picked me up in his arms and we rode off into the sunset. As I read this paragraph back, I really wish I could say that.
    But that didn't happen. When that damn thing went one way and I went the other smashing my own nuts with my arm, I fell off and landed on my head. Once my vision cleared, I looked around at everyone laughing at me and my eyes rested on hot college stud. I shrugged my shoulders as if to say, your loss.
    After waving at my fans surrounding the pen area, I stumbled back to my table and nursed my bruised ego.
    It wasn't long after my bull riding machine thingy adventure that the college guys paid they're tab and left the bar. I watched my hot college stud leave and thought, win some lose some.
    Just when Daniel started consoling me, wouldn't you know it, hot college stud came back in the bar and shoved a piece of paper in my hand and said call me sometime. Yes, once again my charm and debonair attidtue worked on the breeders. Woo Hoo.
    I guess what I'm trying to say to everyone, sometimes acting like a fool gets you the guy at the end of the day. As long as that guy isn't some crazy homophobe that waits for you outside the bar and kicks the crap out of you. But hey, what the hell. Life isn't living if you live in fear, right. That and I have been known to outrun even the most determined homophobes. Cheers everyone.
    Jason R.
  5. Jason Rimbaud
    7 Things I Hate Today!
    I know hate is a strong word and should never be used lightly. But if there is anything that would justify a universal feeling of hate, I think the following list will suffice. So without further digressions, rants, or any other silly hijacking comments, I give you the seven things I hate for today.
    Number 7: Every few days I receive an Email from ATT INTERNET service. They give me a list of reasons why I should switch my INTERNET service and they also offer discount prices. Today I read an email where, if I sign up for a year of service, I could get DSL access for $14.00 a month. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention this part. I already have ATT Internet access, they sent me the fucking email at my ATT Email address that they fucking gave me when I signed my contract locking me in at a set price for a fucking year. Oh yeah, I fucking hate that.
    Number 6: Old people coming to restaurants. I don't want to hear about the good old days when coffee was a nickel and you had unlimited refills. At my fucking restaurant, coffee is $4.00 a cup. And if you want another one, that will be another fucking $4.00 dollars. That's what by the cup means. Oh, and one more thing, it's never a good idea to order only one entr?e with the intention of "sharing because you don't really eat that much anymore". We all know it's bullshit, you're just cheap. And if you weren't cheap, then you would leave more than a ten percent tip. Remember, a server lives on tips, and if you stay sitting at that table for three hours because you and the old lady have no where else to go, then don't be surprised if you find something floating in your $4.00 cup of coffee.
    Number 5: Anyone, and I mean any-fucking-one, who believes that a one-year-old is a welcomed addition to a night out at a restaurant who charges sixty-dollars a plate. And don't even think about asking why we don't serve a children's menu. If you have to bring your smelly offspring with you everywhere you go because you don't want to pay for a babysitter, then take your fucking family to Denny's. Don't bring your ill behaved monsters to a hip upscale restaurant, the servers don't want you there, and I can bet the couple sitting next to you trying to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary don't want you there either. So fucking stop it. If your kid doesn't have hair on it's "no-no-parts", then stay the fuck at home.
    Number 4: People who arrive 5 minutes before a restaurant closes for the night, wearing smiles and exclaiming loudly that you're just so damn happy that you made it before we close. Why? Because you are the type of person that will order two waters, and share a single entr?e, that you will not eat for two hours because you're busy making-out in the booth in the corner. Not only are you keeping the server from going home, but you're making them wait for ten-percent of a thirty dollar check. And even if you add in an extra ten percent and give them six whole dollars, don't be surprised if they leave the money on the table. Because the idea of having to stay at work two hours after the restaurant is closed because you want to make out in the corner booth is not worth the six dollars. If you are the type of person that does this, then you are a bastard and I hate you. I fucking hate you.
    Number 3: Commercials spouting anti-smoking propaganda. Let's face it, there is not a single person living on the planet in the year 2007 that doesn't know that smoking isn't the best idea. And I get it, you hate smoking. Get over it. Do we really need to spend hundreds of millions of dollars on really stupid commercials trying to stop people from smoking? Why don't we take that money and spend it on more important things, I don't know, how about universal health-care? How about offering classes on the long lost art of minding your own fucking business? I want to take that guy from that commercial and lock him in a room where hundreds of people blow cigarette smoke in his face for three days. Then, and only then, can he have a reason for making those stupid fucking Truth ads.
    Number 2: Commercials heralding the latest advancement in prescription drugs. It started out harmless enough, remember Antonio Banderas as the cute little bee flying lazily about telling us too take this new pill for our nasal allergies. And I could even understand the ads dealing with sleeping disorders. But now every few minutes I see commercials advocating erectile dysfunction pills and anti-depression tablets with side affects that are decidedly worse then the aliment they claim to cure. Think about it, I've got this granite hard cock but I can't seem to stop my ass from leaking. Hmm, flaccid cock or shit spewing from my ass, I wonder what I would choose? And doctors need to stop inventing diseases to justify their new miracle pill. Who the fuck ever heard of restless leg syndrome? I didn't, I didn't know it was a syndrome. When my legs hurt when I was in bed, I got up and drank a glass of water. Problem fixed. But that's not good enough anymore, now we need a fucking pill. What the fuck, it seems like they have a pill for everything now-a-days.
    Which leads me right into
    Number 1: Commercials telling us NOT to do drugs. Well, it should be, commercials telling us not to do drugs that aren't controlled by the Federal Government. Have you seen these anti-pot ads? In one, a girl is sitting in the kitchen, go figure, eating, and the family dog comes in and sits on a kitchen stool and asks her to stop smoking pot. I wasn't even smoking pot when I saw that commercial and all it did was make me wonder if my dog would start talking to me if I smoked up. How fucking cool would that be? Can you imagine what the family pet would have to say?
    I don't want to start bitching about those of you that are currently taking pills that are saving or prolonging your life, but I'm not sure if I want to take a handful of pills that actually have a higher risk of hurting me than helping. And what about those pills that after you take them, you fucking die. Is that side effect warning on the bottle?
    Shouldn't we be wary of any drug that is invented for the sole purpose of generating money? If we are so advanced that we now have to start inventing diseases to cure, why are people still dying from cancer? Why can't we cure AIDS? And don't get me started why we have dozens of pills to get a boner but still can't come up with a better solution to fight the flu then by injecting flu in the form of shots. Hmm, I get a shot to ward off the flu, and the shot gives me the flu. That is a brilliant scheme if I ever heard of one.
    For a society that spends so much money on anti-drug campaigns, we are quickly becoming perpetually medicated and all with the Federal Governments approval. And I don't care what anyone says, having a full-on-robot-chubby due to severe rigor mortis stemming from complications caused by my erectile dysfunction medication isn't really a miracle cure by any means. You have to be at least breathing to enjoy fucking. Though being dead is a viable alternative when faced with anal leakage. But of course, that's just me.
    Jason R.
  6. Jason Rimbaud
    want...want...want...want...want...want...
    I just want Camy to be happy...
    I just want Camy to be satisfied...
    I just want Camy to know he is loved...
    I just want Camy to be joyful...
    Fuck it...I just want Camy!
    Jason *feeling quite giddy and happy this night/morning*
    (written in response to Camy's latest blog entry)
  7. Jason Rimbaud
    5:00AM...M wakes me up by straddling my back and whispering in my ear that he wants me to go running with him
    5:15AM...M and I walk out the front door to freezing wet air and head off toward the upcoming sunrise
    6:15AM...We walk back inside the house and head toward the shower, we don't make it
    6:17AM...M rewards me for running with him
    7:04AM...We get in the shower and I thank him for rewarding me
    7:43AM...We sit down for breakfast. M gets 2 eggs over easy with coffee and I get a bagel with OJ
    7:55AM...M heads off to class and I do the dishes
    8:20AM...I get in my car and drive to Millbrae to catch B.A.R.T. train to San Francisco
    8:45AM...Get on B.A.R.T. and start checking and replying to work related emails
    9:00AM...M sends text and says he's misses me
    9:25AM...Get to the restaurant and begin checking the overnight voicemail
    9:46AM...Recieve call finalizing cocktail party plans for 6 PM that night for 50 guests
    10:00AM...Recieve phone call from a busser who claims he can't come to work
    10:01AM...Tell busser to come or else...he claims he tried calling me all morning but I didn't pick up
    10:02AM...I call bullshit on his claim as I had been awake since five AM
    10:17AM...Send M a text that says...Grrr
    10:30AM...Greet and Brief the lunch staff about the days events and specials
    11:00AM...Open for lunch and deal with a server "suddenly" becoming ill
    11:01AM...Sent server home and I'm not happy as we are booked quite heavily for lunch
    11:17AM...Busser shows up to work late we are 17 minutes behind schedule
    12:00PM...Order a Chicken Cobb Salad for lunch, can't wait
    12:15PM...Homeless crack-head tries to steal food off a table sitting on the patio
    12:16PM...Feel a bit better after yelling at the crack-head
    1:30PM...Finally get a chance to eat...Chicken Cobb Salad is wilted but tasty
    2:00PM...Receive email about last minute changes regarding cocktail party
    2:01PM...Push time up to 5PM and change the menu with Chef for cocktail party
    2:13PM...M texts he'll be staying at his apartment tonight but he loves me
    2:30PM...Was told that "sick" server left to meet one of our chefs for some afternoon delight
    2:31PM...Not happy with server or the chef, can't wait until tomorrow's meeting
    3:00PM...Sit down with a wine rep and have a tasting for new Pinot Noirs
    3:30PM...Surpervise the setting up for the cocktail party and decorate the room
    4:00PM...Greet and meet the night shift and brief them on the cocktail party and the night's business
    5:00PM...Guests arrive for the cocktail party and the fun begins
    5:30PM...Restaurant is full and I jump behind the bar to help bartender make drinks
    6:45PM...Finally get a chance to leave the bar and smoke a much needed cigarette
    6:45PM...Text M just to say hi
    7:30PM...I yell at a server because she forgot to ring the entr?es for a table of five...for twenty minutes
    8:00PM...To console the table I buy them a round of drinks and dessert, I think it worked as they left happy
    8:07PM...M texts that he's going to bed and that he loves me
    8:15PM...D and I begin doing physical end of month inventory on wine, beer, booze
    10:00PM...I do all the book keeping for the day's business and send the servers home after a job well done
    10:30PM...D and I finish physical inventory and I turn off the lights and lock the doors and head toward B.A.R.T.
    10:52PM...Get on train and text M that I love him and goodnight, he doesn't respond
    11:29PM...Arrive in Millbrae and walk to my car
    11:35PM...After waiting for my car to warm up I start driving home to San Mateo
    11:55PM...I walk in my door and see a note on the counter from M
    11:55PM...M figured I wouldn't get to eat dinner so he left me a slice of pizza in the fridge
    11:56PM...Forgo the pizza and head up the stairs stripping out of my clothes as I head to the shower
    12:05AM...Walk into my bedroom and realize that M is curled up with my pillow snoring softly
    12:06AM...Stare at M asleep and realize that I can't imagine life without him
    12:07AM...I pounce on M and life is perfect
    1:00AM...M says he couldn't sleep alone and figured he'd surprise me
    1:02AM...M whispers goodnight and moments later he starts snoring softly
    1:04AM...I shift to a more comfortable position and set my alarm for 5 AM
    1:05AM...I grab my laptop and start typing what will become this Blog Entry
    1:31AM...I post this Blog Entry and snuggle up to M's back and drift off to sleep...happy and content
  8. Jason Rimbaud
    A Few More Sentences
    The house was dark and at first glance he didn't think Scott was there though his car was parked in the garage. But upon closer inspection, he saw the outline of the blond sitting out on the balcony staring up into the night sky. He didn't think he could cry anymore, but the sight of his boyfriend caused the tears to once again cascade down his cheeks. Willing the tears to stop, he wiped them away with the back of his hand and went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of vodka. Filling up a glass, he walked outside and leaned against the rail.
    He could feel Scott's eyes on him, boring a hole in his back. He lifted the glass to his lips and drank deeply, the clear liquid falling down the sides of his mouth.
    Scott spoke, "That isn't going to help you know."
    Spinning around, his blue eyes filled with anger, he said, "Fuck you."
    "It's your stomach," Scott said, shrugging leaning back further into the chair. The darkness hiding the pain in his eyes.
    Justin threw the glass out into the night, a few moments later he heard the sounds of the glass shattering somewhere below. He asked, "What did I do wrong?"
    "Nothing," Scott said in a quiet voice.
    Throwing his hands in the air, Justin asked, "Is there someone else?"
    "No," Scott answered immediately, surprised by the certainity of his voice. "There could never be anyone else but you."
    "Then why?" Justin asked, sinking to his knees in front of the chair, his hands clutching Scott's knees tightly. "Don't you love me?"
    Tucking his hair behind his ear, Scott caressed Justin's cheek, saying, "Of course I love you."
    "Then why did you say no?"
    Scott could not meet Justin's gaze, he looked so childlike, his eyes big and full of pain. Scott said, "It's hard to explain." His tears began falling down.
    "Tell me please," Justin begged.
    Searching for the right words, but knowing no matter which words he chose, Justin would never understand. Again he wondered if he should have just said yes. A part of him wanted to marry Justin, someday, but not like this. Not without something to offer in return. But that voice inside the back of his head urged him to tell the truth. Sighing, he stated, "Well, for one thing, I don't really believe in marriage."
    "What?" Justin asked, a confused look on his face. "What do you mean?"
    "Justin, even if I were straight, and you were a girl. I wouldn't marry you." Scott said in a soft voice. Though immediately he wished he hadn't said them like that. Justin's face darkened, his temper rising fast. Scott continued quickly, "That's not what I meant. I just don't see the point of going through a ceremony that wouldn't even be legal. I love you, you love me, can't we just leave it at that and spend the rest of our lives together? Why do people think they have to say an "I do"?"
    "It's about a commitment," Justin said, trying hard to force the anger from his voice. "It's about standing in front of a group of friends and acknowledging our love for each other."
    "Have you ever doubted my love?" Scott asked, slumping in the chair.
    "Not until tonight," Justin replied, standing up and walking back to the railing.
    "How can you say that?" Scott yelled out, standing up in his anger.
    "In front of everyone, I asked you to marry me, and you...you said no," Justin explained. "How the fuck did you think I was going to feel?"
    "Just because I don't want to marry you doesn't mean I don't love you."
    "I know, it just means you don't want any strings," Justin said, turning to face his lover. "You'll only love me on your terms, but not on mine."
    "That's bullshit, and you know it."
    "Is it?" Justin asked, his fists clenched tight. "After everything we've been through. All the bullshit that happened with Michael, all the shit that happened with your band, don't you think...you owe me...you owe me this little thing?"
    "Owe you?" Scott shouted out. "That' the problem, I feel like I owe you everything."
    That caught him by surprise and for a moment, Justin stared at him. "What?"
    "All this," Scott said, waving his arms around him. "This isn't my house, it's your house. The car I drive, even the fucking clothes I wear aren't mine. How could I marry you when I have nothing to offer?"
    Justin groaned and rolled his eyes. Everything came back to this tired argument. He said, "How many times have I told you, that what I have is yours?"
    "That's not me," Scott intoned. "I can't keep living my life on your good graces. It drives me crazy having you buy me stuff. I can't even buy a pair of shoes without first getting money from you."
    "You don't seem to have any problems getting money to go drinking," Justin spat. "Or using my money to make your fucking record."
    "That's beneath you." Scott said in a quiet voice, ignoring the tears falling down his cheeks. He turned away and headed inside. Justin followed him and grabbed his arm roughly. Scott spun around and pushed the man hard on the couch, his arm raised back, his fist closed tightly. Anger flashed in his eyes and Justin realized he had went to far. Closing his eyes, he waited for the blow to drop.
    "Damnit," Scott yelled, punching a pillow next to Justin's head. "I didn't want this to happen again." For a moment thinking back to the time he lost his temper in a herion induced rage and hit his best friend, Shelia.
    Justin stared at him, his eyes wide and filled with fear. And when Scott collapsed next to him on the couch, he breathed easy. Hearing Scott mumbling something, he reached out to touch him, yet was shocked when Scott whispered, "Don't."
    Scott stood up and headed for the front door, his shoulders slumped. Justin called out, "Where are you going?"
    "I don't know, but if I stay, I might do something neither one of us can forgive," Scott replied hoarsely.
    "Are you leaving me?" Justin asked, standing up clutching his stomach with his hands.
    Turning his head, Scott said over his shoulder, "Never you, Justin. I'm leaving me."
    Before the door shut, Justin fell back on the couch and curled up in ball. He cried for sometime until he couldn't cry anymore. After an hour, he went to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Vodka.
  9. Jason Rimbaud
    A Good Reason To Spend 765 Dollars
    I wrote this as a comment in (Ele)Civil's Blog a few weeks ago. I really liked it, and while discussing it with my friends back in Pennsylvania, they wondered why I did not have it posted here. So to oblige them, I reposted it here. I changed a few things around and add a few things, so maybe, even if you've already read this, give it another shot. Pretty please, just for me.
    I know how scary purchasing a new suit can be to the first time buyer. Not only do you have to decide which color of suit you should buy, but then there's the shoes, the shirt, etc. etc. I wanted to create a "How to Guide" for all of you that have a desire to dress in a more mature or adult manner. To lay out the proper steps, one by one to help you achieve the satisfaction buying that first suit will bring.
    Number One: Upon first entering the store, preferably a men's clothing store, of course you may choose whichever one best fits your own personal tastes. But for this "How to Guide", let's pretend you picked a men's clothing store. Once inside the clothing store, find the cutest male employee.
    (DO NOT, and let me repeat, DO NOT, pick the employee that has the best taste in clothes. This will only lead to feelings of inadequacy and frustration of never living up to an impossible standard.)
    Once you find the cutest male employee, wait as long as necessary for that particular employee to "free up" from his other customers. If he is taking a long time, peruse the rack that is advertising a 50% off going out of style sale. This will ensure no other employee will approach you as they'll believe you have no money to spend and they will avoid you like the plague.
    Once the cutest employee is free, approach him and remember to smile a lot while repeating money is no object. This will cause the cute employee to see dollar signs and he will do almost anything to complete the sell. (while the above is not mandatory, it does help ensure the cute employee will go above and beyond the call of duty, even going as far as entering the dressing room with you to make sure the pants fit just right in all the right places.)
    Number Two: Make sure, while selecting which color of suit to purchase, that not only does it match the color of your eyes, but it will also look great crumpled on the floor of the cute employee's apartment in the morning. This is a must, do not cheap out.
    Number Three: You'll know when you've found the perfect suit when, all the gay men in the store stop shopping to watch you with one hand in their pants. Stop right there, buy that suit, no matter how much it costs. Believe when I say it will be worth the money in the long run. (at least I tell myself this to justify the purchase of a five hundred dollar suit I made recently.)
    Number Four: Now that you've picked out the suit, the real fun begins. The cute employee will take you to a stage, surrounded by mirrors on three sides with powerful spot lights shining directly on you. This is to lull you into believing that you really are the star of the store.
    (side note: If the cute employee entered the dressing room with you, wait at least ten minutes before stepping on the stage to allow certain things to shrink back to normal. A lesson I learned quite by accident the day I purchased my five hundred dollar suit.)
    The cute employee will now start to grope you as he draws on your new suit with white chalk. And though it's not necessary, he will measure your inseam, sometimes three or four times, just to make sure there is ample room in the front of your trousers for certain situations should they ever arise.
    Number Five: Once the fitting is over, he will strip you of your now chalked suit and begin showing you different shirt and tie combinations. This is very important, DO NOT settle for the first combination he shows you. Even if it is the one you end up buying. The object of this game is to spend as much time with the cute employee as possible. Choosing the first combination only brings the ending that much closer.
    Number Six: After deciding on the shirt and tie combination, it is now time for the belt. While I urge you to pick a belt that matches your shoes, it is not necessary as usually your jacket will be closed at all times. This makes the belt the least important item on the list. Though buying the belt gives the cute employee another reason to stick his fingers in the waist of your pants to make sure the fit is proper.
    Number Seven: Next is the socks and shoes. Socks should match the suit, while the shoes should accent the suit without overstating it. Always allow the cute employee to slip the shoes on your feet. (For those of you with a foot fetish, this is an easy and cheap thrill that will be shared, if your lucky, by the cute employee and yourself.
    (Side note: It has been my experience with these humans that sell men's clothing, they either secretly or openly enjoy the male figure. Fitting men into suits gives them the excuse to touch males without having to resort to the pretense of "sport allowed" situations. IE: smacking your teammate on the ass after a great touchdown, etc etc. Clothes fitting has replaced this "sport allowed contact" under the guise of concern that the wearer of the suit is happy and comfortable with his purchase.)
    And lastly,
    Number Eight: No matter how cute the employee is, no matter how excited you are to leave that suit in a crumpled mess on his floor, DO Not, again, Do Not purchase the shoe trees.
    For those of you who don't understand that phrase, I'll explain. Shoe tress are devices that fit into your shoe when you are not wearing them to maintain its shape.
    The reason behind me instructing you to NOT purchase the shoe trees is this, we can't all buy five hundred dollar suits every month. Yet shoes are way more affordable. This gives you the excuse to return to the clothing store each month to see the cute employee under the "guise" of maintaining nice shoes for your five hundred dollar suit. And though the cute employee knows the real reason you return each month, he'll pretend right along with you. It's a win win situation.
    I know some of you might be college students, so I'll breakdown the price list, item by item. This will give you an idea how long you might have to drink really cheap beer to afford this rather expensive flirting method.
    Suit that makes guys get hardon's: Five hundred dollars
    Shirt that matches your socks: Fifty-five dollars
    Tie to state just how powerful and sexy you really are: Thirty dollars
    Belt just to give the cute employee a reason to stick his hands in your pants: Fifty dollars
    Socks that will be hidden at all times until the cute employee checks your shoes: Twenty dollars(three pack)
    Shoes that accent the suit without overstating: One hundred and ten dollars
    Getting felt up in the dressing room by cute employee: Seven hundred and sixty-five dollars
    I hope this "How To Guide" has been some help to you. Good luck in your own purchasing adventures
    Jason R.
    PRICES MIGHT VARY STATE TO STATE: COUPONS AND EX-BOYFRIENDS NOT ACCEPTED AS PAYMENT
  10. Jason Rimbaud

    A Poem from my Youth

    By Jason Rimbaud,

    So I was going through some of my stuff and found several old notebooks that were filled with
    my earliest writings. After laughing for over an hour, I realize that though I am no where near
    a great writer, I am a million miles away from the geeky four-eyed boy that filled those notebooks
    with high hopes of becoming the greatest writer the world has ever seen.
    While most of the things I hope will never be seen by anyone, but I have decided to post a piece that brings
    back great memories of my youth. So, here is something that might brighten up your day.
    That Smokey Bar
    By: Jason R.
    Standing all alone in that smokey bar
    The way you?re drinking you shouldn?t drive a car
    I asked where you lived and you said it wasn?t far
    So we left that smokey bar
    You and I in my car
    To your place that wasn?t far
    We got to your door
    You fell on the floor
    You asked for a drink and I asked, ?More??
    So I shut the door
    Picked you up off the floor
    And tried to stop you from drinking more
    You walked upstairs with sex on your mind
    I didn?t really want you and I to grind
    You smiled and said I was in a bind
    So I went with your mind
    Decided to do the grind
    And I awoke in a bind
    You didn?t remember that smokey bar
    You wondered where you left your car
    I assured you it wasn?t far
    So we went back to that bar
    You and I in my car
    And I was lucky it wasn?t far
    Written April 5th, 1995
    I hope you've enjoyed this horrible piece of poetry. Cheers until next we meet.
    Jason R.
  11. Jason Rimbaud
    I woke up this morning feeling uncharacteristically happy and it took me a few hours to pinpoint the reason for this exciting emotion. Then I realized that my nose no longer bleeds when I blow it first thing in the morning to clear the sleep away. It's been years since this happened. Maybe sobriety has it's up-sides after all.
    Jason R.
  12. Jason Rimbaud
    Current Music Selection: Breaking Benjamin?Phobia
    Current State: Hungry
    Current Mood: Exhausted
    So I?ve had a long week. After taking three months off, I?ve recently begun working at an up-scale restaurant in Palo Alto as a server. Not only has this new job interfered with my writing but has contributed to my depressed state as of late. Let me explain.
    Have you ever heard of the theory of doppelganger? Basically it?s the theory that everyone has a twin somewhere out there. Like maybe two people with the same soul separated somehow in the cosmos. The bad part, they say one is evil and one is good.
    If you?ve read my poetry then maybe you?ve read about a boy named John that dominates my thoughts. Well, I met his doppelganger.
    Not that Brandon is the evil one, far from it actually. If anything John was the evil one and Brandon is like this brilliant light shining in the darkness. But it still sucks, because now I have to see John on a daily basis. Like I need more reminders about that fucked up relationship and that olive skinned boy that mind fucked me.
    It?s really uncanny, their similarities don?t end at looks, though I swear they could be twins. Both are slight of build and short, same dark hair filled with product in a mess of spikes. Both have intense green eyes that are filled with mystery and hint at unknown passions. They speak alike; enunciating the same, drawing out the vowels in an accent that can only be Northern California?s mix of culture. They have the same tastes in music, movies and both have addictions.
    John fucked up my world and now, I have to work with his other self. The first time I saw Brandon, I actually said, ?John.? And even now, I still at times call him John, much to Brandon?s amusement. Though I?ve never told Brandon about his resemblance to John, I don?t think the twenty-year-old could handle it.
    In the last ten days, I?ve thought a lot about John and our summer of sex and drugs. And the reasons I seem to attract such disturbing relationships. I know my past haunts me and dictates my behavior. I know if I can?t find some way to lay these demons to rest, I?ll never find peace.
    So with advice from my roommate, Daniel, I?m going to voluntarily seek help. I?ve made an appointment with a therapist and Tuesday I?ll have my first session. I don?t know how much help she can offer but I don?t want to feel this way anymore.
    So one last time, I?ll let John dominate my thoughts. Below is a piece I wrote three years ago called Nothing Like Human. It shows my state of mind and despair. One last time I will share it before putting it away forever.
    Cheers until we meet again,
    Jason R.
    Nothing like Human
    By: Jason R.
    I?m afraid of my own mental state
    I believe you know it?s a tenuous grip on reality at best
    And I can not stand to face my fears
    The longer I wrap myself with lies
    The longer I can deny my fear
    I am nothing like human
    No?not I
    Humans have a desire to be happy
    To know love and to be loved
    At least I know where my fear began, do you
    I understand my webs of deceit even as I deny them
    My life has been one long secret
    Love hidden in shadows
    Scared to let the sun penetrate the darkness of my love
    Joy realized only in the embrace of the night
    Scattered illusions when the sun crested the dawn
    Pretty ironic for the boy who only wanted to find the sun
    I need some blue skies
    Maybe I am Hemmingway
    Tortured you once claimed
    Not quite right in the head
    Honesty is the enemy and I hated you for that
    I hated your clarity and intuition
    I hated your knife that cut through my delusion
    And forced me to reflect with the truth
    I hated your manipulations
    Your icy silences
    I hated your volume
    I hated the calm before the storm
    I hated your coercion
    And I hated your intimidation
    And I hated your complete disregard for me
    I hated your explosions and your casualness of coldness
    I hated your alcohol breath
    And I hated your seduction
    Even as I was consumed by your words
    And torn between fear and lust
    Even though I was uncomfortable
    I allowed it to happen
    Your manipulations were as deft as mine
    Neither were harmless yet maybe
    Both were unintentional
    I hated your temper
    The drama that surrounds you
    Pushes you to end things noisily
    But mainly I was afraid of rejection
    Nothing started on a fabricated destiny will last
    My own web of bullshit returns to haunt me again
    And there was fear
    I feared you
    And to a point?I still do
    But now for different reasons
    But only to a point
    Since I now understand you
    You were easy to understand
    When I took the time to look
    I no longer hate you
    Hate is an emotion I can no longer afford
    Could it be we two are alike
    Stolen innocence long before toys were put to rest
    Long before we should have ever had to choose like adults
    I was a child
    Innocence taken by a priest
    Forced to grow up
    With scratches on my back
    And bite marks on my ear
    I wonder what was your instrument of damnation
    An Uncle perhaps
    Or some other relative
    I had to be close to you
    For to this day prompts you to be wary even in slumber
    Shallow and scared you still run from the dark
    I know, I wake up in sweats still reliving those months of torture
    Sleep eludes me
    Even without stimulates I sleep in stolen moments between nightmares
    Maybe the drugs ingested are a substitute
    For the nightmares that haunt us
    Or you may be right
    That my own perverse mentality leads me
    Drives me?Controls me
    Until my jaded outlook on life destroys all things good and pure around me
    Until happiness eludes me
    Jaded
    Looking back on the mess of shit I spewed around you
    Can I blame you for the reception I received
    When all you have are the lies to piece together the puzzle
    Then the distorted picture that emerges could only frighten you
    Push you away
    Force you to make that decision
    Maybe not the decision you wished
    But the only decision I gave you
    Realistically a choice was never made
    One avenue of escape was presented
    You took that step
    I pushed you
    And it was easy
    You wanted that push
    I fulfilled it
    I can not be trusted
    Those words ring in my head like a mantra
    Repeating over and over until even I believe them
    But for every lie I entrusted to you
    I received two in return
    I lied to you
    And you lied to me
    About me
    Against me
    Hatred fueling your words till perceptions were skewed
    And for a time
    You won
    A brief season of celebration you enjoyed
    I know
    I heard the clapping
    I felt the jubilation in your words
    And I smiled
    My greatest strength is I truly don?t care what others think
    I always said the greatest joke in the world is the joke no knew you played
    For through this all
    You?ve amused me
    I sit back and wonder how badly I must have crept under your skin
    To cause those feelings inside you
    After all
    Hate without love is powerless
    And your hate was strong
    Again I laugh at the perfect hatred emanating from you
    My manipulation was deft
    My target destroyed
    For my life is a jumbled mess of misconceptions
    Interpreted by those that saw through my bullshit
    And called me on it
    I respect those that see me for the liar I am
    I respect you though I hate to be around you
    No one likes to be reminded of the failure they?ve become
    But respect is there
    An unspoken fondness for you
    Yet you seem to struggle with this fondness
    Unsure of how to proceed
    I like to believe you only wished to help me
    Change me somehow
    Or maybe you only wanted to understand
    Understanding is the key to change
    And can I change
    Not in your eyes
    And I really can?t blame you for that
    Nor will I try to make you understand
    For I have no cause to explain myself
    Right or wrong
    Past is past
    And I?ll live for today
    And sometimes
    Some people just aren?t worth the effort
    But how long can you try to understand
    Before the struggle becomes more than you can bear
    Will it drain you
    Change you
    Alter your meager threshold of pain
    Will it break you mentally
    Until there is no gesture of goodwill left in your already fragile mind
    You lasted longer than I thought possible
    Longer than anyone else
    The respect grows
    So does the un-comfortableness
    I sat there in the dark
    Plotting
    Night after night
    Wondering what it would take to finally push you to the limit
    What could I do to break whatever feeling you had left for me
    Hatred
    Now that?s something I understand all to well
    Seeing the avenue before us was life changing
    For it was wide and straight
    Opposite of the twisted subversive alley you accuse me of dwelling in
    Telling our friends I walk in shadow
    Jaded
    I saw my way out and made you make the decision
    For if anyone couldn?t handle us
    It was me
    You were right about a lot of things
    Your intuition astounds me
    Even when your motivation is in question
    After all
    Your motives were never clear
    I know
    Mine mirrored yours
    Manipulation is my weapon
    I?ll give you that one
    But sex is yours
    Your body the knife that cuts deeper than any sword
    Your smile that destroys
    Mirroring a hurricane ripping and tearing the shore
    But who is affected most
    The victim
    Or you
    When I couldn?t make myself over
    Into your distorted vision of what we should be
    I manipulated you into hating us
    It was easy
    One conversation
    One fight
    One word
    Goodbye
    Marionette on wires
    You danced to my tune
    The puppet master
    The piped piper
    And if I made you uncomfortable
    All the better
    Self-preservation is paramount
    A lesson you know well
    You perfected it even as I have
    But you have nothing to fear from me
    Only those I hate need fear me
    And I don?t hate you
    These words may not reach you
    I know you
    You?ll walk around them
    Ignore them
    Wishing them away will be your game
    And though on the outside you will discount them
    On the inside you?ll be grateful to have read them
    To understand the right side of my mind
    This part of me I hold close
    Close like a junkie holding his syringe
    For these words are alive
    Brought forth by my own desperate need to understand myself
    Given breath by every keystroke of my hand
    I will affect you
    Complicate
    And erect you with these words
    This spoken question in written form
    Will confuse you
    But also wrap you tightly in a kind of tangled hope
    That I am not the man I was
    Or the man you thought me to be just a few weeks ago
    In a fit of anger
    You once told me to write down what I wanted to say to you
    Accusing me of being unable to convey my emotions in spoken words
    I hope I made myself clear in these words
    Though I believe it will not matter
    Scar tissue erodes my soul and suffers me a fate of loneliness
    My life is one long scar
    I wear it proudly
    Invent reasons to stay hard
    Unfeeling
    And when I begin to feel
    I create situations to destroy that feeling
    Why
    A question that will never be answered
    For no one will try long enough to receive the answer
    I will not allow it anyway
    Just as you weren?t allowed inside
    Seeing anger
    Hate
    Indifference in your eyes
    Is easier than seeing any form of love
    Surrounded by my fantasy
    My delusions accept me like no human will
    Looking back on my life
    I can blame no one for the choices I?ve made
    I can hate no one for any reactions I receive
    Though maybe someday I?ll prove I?m something like human
    Until then
    Don?t think of me in anger
    Hate
    These emotions will ruin your life
    Instead
    Think of me in pity
    It?s more than I deserve
    And all I ever receive
    Wednesday, April 15th, 2003
    7:08 PM
  13. Jason Rimbaud

    After Twenty Years...I Just Did This

    By Jason Rimbaud,


    Life In Glasses
    After Twenty Years...I Just Did This
    So I’ve been in the restaurant/hospitality business for over twenty years. And I can’t believe that after twenty years, I just did this. And before I go into what life changing craziness I just decided to embark on, let me tell you about my writing.
    Some years back, I lost the memory stick that contained all my writings for the last thirty years. And yes, not only did it hold all my stories, notes, outlines, it also contained all my work notes that I had gathered over the years. I’m not sure which hit me harder, the writings or all the content I had created that I used on the daily for work.
    So I decided to gather all my writings into google sheets to ensure I never again lose my tattered attempts at writing. I have already lost way too much due to losing memory sticks, crashing computers, and random acts of god.
    And in this attempt to make sure I got literally everything I ever wrote/posted online, I went back to 2002 and took everything I wrote for Nifty. And as I was copying those stories, I made the mistake of actually reading them.
    Have you all seen this trend of people reacting to things on YouTube? If I wasn’t so bald and fat I would so do a reaction video of myself reading those “stories”. Talk about bac, I can’t believe I once thought those stories were gold.
    In my defense, at the height of my online posting, I was getting up to fifty emails a day with these little stories. So more than a few people fed into this delusion. I even won a few readers choice awards. 
    Trust me, in no way am I defending these “stories”. Trust me, I won’t even tell you the name I once wrote under. That’s how embarrassed I am about the words I wrote and posted all those years ago. And it wasn’t Jason Rimbaud so don’t bother checking. 
    I’ve been in the restaurant/hospitality pretty much my whole life. I started as  a bartender at twenty-one in a redneck bar in the backwoods of Pennsylvania and somehow moved up over the years to where I’ve worked for several celebrity chefs and amazing start-ups that are still flourishing even through the pandemic. I’ve opened seven restaurants for other people and have been on the ground floor of one of the fastest growing brands in the San Francisco Bay Area. 
    As a writer, something I love doing, I’ve only really attempted to write full time back in the early 2000’s. I took four years and all I did was try and get published. And yes, I managed to get my stories in a few anthologies, a few poetry books over the years but I was never really good enough to break into the big time. I think my biggest issue, at least back then, my stories had such a small targeted audience.
    I write gay fiction. Well, I once wrote slash gay fiction but that’s another story all together. Gay fiction isn’t really burning up the charts and unless you manage to find work at a streaming service. But I never really wanted to write for a show, my love has always been books/novels.
    I will admit for the last fifteen years or so, I haven’t really focused that much on writing. A few years ago, I had almost finished a book about an alien invasion in Washington State, real end of the world stuff. And then my memory stick fell out of my shoulder bag and I ran over it a few times.
    I have since tried to recreate the story but I could never get it right. It was over five years work lost in a single moment. And that bummed me out. I thought I was destined to work in a restaurant for the rest of my life. But then something happened a few weeks ago that would change my life forever. 
    Some of you know that I’m married. And “N” is also in the restaurant/hospitality industry. But he hates it. So two years ago he started going back to school to get a degree in accounting. And he did, a month ago he graduated with honors with his bachelor degree all the while he worked a full time job. 
    And once he graduated, “N” and I were talking about the next steps. We spend a boatload of money on his degree and he really wants a job where he can use it. The biggest problem we both face, we have been successful in restaurants. And for those of you that don’t really understand what that means, let me explain. 
    When you reach a certain point in your career, no matter what your field is, you have a track record of success. And people pay extremely well for that track record. I know people are complaining about the restaurant/hospitality industry not paying well. But if you have the right resume, you can make really good money. Especially when you’re offered profit sharing. 
    Both of us have been wanting to leave the restaurant industry for some time. But we had been so successful that if we were to make a move on a fresh career, we’d have to take a dramatic pay cut. As much as fifty thousand a year. And we have worked way too hard to make a life for ourselves, that going back isn’t a viable option.
    We aren’t rich by any standard. We live in the most expensive city in the country, so if you don’t make at least one hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year, you’re living paycheck to paycheck. But we are comfortable. 
    In my spare time, I have been collecting all my old writing. An hour here, an hour there, while maintaining a very stressful opening for my restaurant group. One of my old stories caught my attention. It’s a love story set on St. Martin, with a small little hook that I thought wasn’t that bad. Not the writing, it was horrible. But the overall plot was kind of cool.
    And in my reading, instead of copying and pasting, for some reason I decided to transcribe it instead. This led me to actually rewrite the entire thing from top to bottom. It was around 120 pages originally and now it’s a bit more. I am working on another draft as we speak so I don’t know where the final word count will end. But I’m having the time of my life. 
    After one stressful day, I was complaining to “N” about how much energy I’m putting into this latest opening. And how I’m getting frustrated in making other people money. And yes they pay me for all my energy, but at the end of the day, the owner benefits way more than I do when I successfully open a new location.
    “If you don’t like it, why don’t you quit.” That was “N’s” sage advice. So I replied, “And do what? Go work for someone else?”
    “You’ve opened a billion restaurants for other people, why don’t we open our own?”
    For anyone who has read my musing, you know that I love super spicy hot wings. I have been known to drive 45 minutes to San Jose so I can get my 4 Alarm Hot Wings from SmokeEaters. I have literally been to every wing place in the San Francisco Bay Area trying their “hot” wings. And besides SmokeEaters, I have always been disappointed. 
    So over the last ten years or so, I have been creating my own spicy wing sauces. I have perfected that art of cooking chicken wings and have some amazing sauces that I think are better than anyone’s currently in San Francisco.
    “Why don’t we open our own?” Fuck yeah, so that’s what I did. As of June 1st, we are now business owners. We have been opened for the last three weeks and I’m having the time of my life. “N” and I have decided to take our future in our own hands. So now when I’m working eighty hours a week, it’s at least for myself and our future. LIfe is good.
  14. Jason Rimbaud
    All about Eve or Stupid Words Strung Together to Form Sentences
    He left the two laughing, his blue eyes searching the crowd for Brandon, hoping he wouldn't run into anyone else he knew. After going to the bar, he ordered another beer and sipped it slowly.
    "Hi, how are you?" a deep voice called out from behind.
    Turning around, he looked into the smiling face of Justin, another one of Brandon's bandmates. "Hi. I'm fine, and you?"
    "Bored," Justin replied, shrugging. "But then I'm always bored at these kind of parties." Holding up a full martini, he laughed, saying, "But this always helps."
    "Yes, I agree. Insulation always helps." Gabriel said before draining his beer, ordering another.
    "Alcohol is good for many things," Justin continued, never taking his eyes off the longhaired man.
    "Such as?" Gabriel asked, returning the gaze intently.
    "Like forgetting, or maybe enhancing certain feelings we usually keep hidden." Justin stated.
    "Really," Gabriel said. "And here I was thinking it was only good for getting wasted."
    Laughing a deep rich laugh, Justin shook his head. "Oh no, my friend. You see, alcohol affects the brain, and when you've consumed too much, you do stupid things."
    "Really. I"ve never noticed."
    "Really." Justin said, pointing over towards Brandon, who was trapped between four older ladies. "Take him for instance. He gets that way after a few beers. One time, he told Robert DeNiro that he was one of the most overrated actors of all time."
    "Now that's funny." Gabriel said, chuckling at the thought of someone telling Robert DeNiro off. "I bet that was the first time anyone told that jackass the truth."
    Waving his hands, Justin said, "That's beside the point, we were talking about alcohol and it's effects. Take this other friend of mine." This time Justin pointed to a tall dark haired man talking to a pretty blond girl over in the corner across the room. "Alcohol makes him believe something he's not. When he's drinking, he can forget all about his true nature."
    Musing over Justin's statements, Gabriel still couldn't figure out what the blond man was talking about. He asked, "And what does alcohol do to, someone like you?"
    "Me? Nothing, I'm the same asshole drunk or sober," Justin stated, grinning broadly. "But what I'm worried about, is you."
    "What about me?"
    "What does alcohol make you do?" Justin asked, his face turning serious.
    "For one, it gives me the patience to answer stupid questions from people I don't know." Gabriel said. "And for two, it makes me realize that some people shouldn't drink martini's. Excuse me."
    Gabriel started walking away, but Justin grabbed his arm, saying, "Wait."
    Gabriel pulled his arm from Justin's grip, saying, "Yes?"
    A smile returned to Justin's face. Downing the rest of his martini, he said, "I like you. I do. But I don't want a certain friend of mine to get hurt."
    Feigning ignorance, Gabriel asked, "What do you mean?"
    Shaking his head, Justin said, "Absolutely nothing. I just wanted to tell you that you should be carefu what you drink. Other than that, have fun." Turning around, he ordered another martini. Looking over his shoulder, he said, "Besides, I haven't seen him smile in months."
  15. Jason Rimbaud
    It's been almost two months since I started my new bright and shiny job in San Francisco...you know the one I'm talking about. The job that was suppose to give me more time to myself, time I could use to write.
    Well that dream was held up and then smashed to pieces right before my very eyes. I won't make NaNo this year, matter of fact I failed miserably. Oh don't you worry you crazy kids, I'll punish myself accordingly later.
    I had such high hopes and plans, but life keeps fucking me up lately. I get up and go to work, barely having time to wash my body much less touch myself in dirty ways. I still know what my dick looks like, I just haven't beaten it for a while. (and it might owe me money by now)
    I want to tell you about the guy I caught jerking off outside my restaurant window a few weeks ago, but I can't. Because I'm working to fucking much to take the time to relay the tale. I want to tell you about the old queen that sat down at my restaurant and got so drunk he pissed himself sitting in his chair in my restaurant, but I can't, I have to go to work early tomorrow morning and just don't have the strength to tell you about.
    Or the guy I got arrested because he tried to walk out on a $124 check without paying. Or how I walked across the street and caught him in another bar before dragging his broke ass back to my restaurant where I called the police. Not to mention that he owed the other restaurant for the drinks he consumed on their premises before I drug him out by his ear.
    And then there was this guy on the train that was so hot I decided to make out with between Daly City stop and Colman street station. So hot and heavy this make out session was, by the time he got off on his stop, I was standing there with a solid rock erection showing proudly for the rest of the passengers to stare out while I tried to wipe off the stupid grin on my face.
    And then later on in the grocery store when I was doing my weekly shopping, and my mind drifted back to that hot make-out session with this hot guy that I popped another boner all of a sudden and when I turned around, this lovely old lady was standing there, staring at my bulging pants with a horrified look on her face. (though I'm sure she has seen a penis erect before, I don't know why she was so offended)
    Do you have any idea how "hard" it is to do the weekly grocery shopping with a burning erection leading the way? I bet you don't, because I'm sure I'm the only one that is afflicted with man's greatest reflex.
    Fuck me, I'm way to sleepy and maybe a bit drunk to tell you about my last two months. So I'm sure I'll just take more pictures to send to random friends and go to bed. Sleep tight you crazy kids, I know I'll be sleeping restlessly.
    Jason
  16. Jason Rimbaud
    Apparently Cole and Trab feel like I've failed to deliver a pay-off that has been hinted at concerning my interest/relationship with Mark, a straight co-worker, and the story behind my little trip to the hospital a few days ago where a cute nurse asked me to remove my shirt so he could take a peak at my insides.
    As I read that paragraph back, I wonder why they need a further explanation. It seems pretty straight forward to me. My co-worker is straight. So any interest I might have/had toward the fucker is/was a waste of time. Unfortunately, Cole and Trab, my name isn't Paul Harvey and there is no rest of the story. And after everything that transpired that night and the obsessive analyzing I've done ever since, I don't have the strength to write it all down here in my Blog. Sorry, that's all you're going to get about that subject.
    On a related note but not really, Mark is no longer curious about gay sex. And much to my chagrin, he now knows, without a doubt in his pretty little head, that he is in fact very straight and happy with his stupid GIRLfriend. Whatever...fuck him right. He wasn't circumcised anyway. And for those of you that have been reading my Blog from the beginning, you'd know about my fear of foreskin. If not, then go back in my Archive and check out the first entry.
    So Cole, Trab, I hope this explanation helps in some small way. I hope you're happy about making me go through it all again. Closure, you have it now? You happy?
    Jason R.
    Oh yeah, POST SCRIP, since I refused to "help" sort out his curiosity, he no longer talks to me. Though I must admit to laughing at the way he walked the next day. Apparently the kid who introduced him to fucking wasn't that gentle in the end. Serves him right I guess, I'm better off anyway.
    *rolls eyes*
    And just so Cole and Trab won't have a reason to bitch. I'll quickly explain about the hospital visit.
    So I quit smoking a few weeks ago. And to help fill that void, I started eating sweets. So the other day, I bought an extra large chocolate bar before I went to work. I ate half the bar but it did nothing for me so I bummed a smoke from a friend and smoked it down right away. It wasn't long before I had trouble breathing and my heart started racing, like I snorted about an eight-ball of cocaine all at once. I freaked out, and rushed myself to the hospital. After telling my story to the doctor and several different nurses, I was told that since it had been a while since I smoked, I had a reaction to the cigarette. This seemed like a probable reason, so I went home and straight to bed.
    The next morning, I ate the rest of the chocolate bar and twenty minutes later, I had the same reaction. I went back to the hospital and the only thing that made since was the chocolate. So after a simple test, I found out I couldn't eat chocolate anymore. Which is fine with me, I don't really like chocolate anyway. So it's Monday, I bought a fresh pack of cigarettes and threw away all the candy. And I was told that smoking was going to end my life. Go figure.
    Are you two happy now? Did I answer all your questions? Did I?
    Cole and Trab: You guys are awesome!
  17. Jason Rimbaud
    It's strange how a voice from your past, a voice that only lives in your memories, can affect you like a disease, leaving you feeling sick and weak.
    The voice I'm speaking about, Jason. The boy from I'll Never Wear Boxers Again. He calls me out of the blue today, under the guise of telling me about the birth of a child, our mutual friend Dave had his first baby boy.
    This disturbs me, we haven't spoken in almost two years. The last time we spoke was at his fucking wedding for Christ sakes. The day after we fucked for the last time. Talk about dysfunctional friends.
    The whole thing creeped me out. When my phone rang, I got a funny feeling, like someone had walked on my grave, stopped, then took a piss, before continuing on. Usually, if I don't recognize the number, I let the voice mail kick in, but for some really weird reason, I picked up and said hello. The silence was deafening when I heard his voice. It brought back so many memories, memories I wished I had lost.
    And this pisses me off, because the moment we started talking, it felt just like...well...just like old friends. There was no awkward chit nor was there awkward chat. We started laughing, joking, reminiscing about the good old days. Time spent apart didn't seem to tarnish the connection we had since the first moment we met. And I fucking hate that. He doesn't deserve a place of honor here, not when I can't have him.
    We spoke for over an hour, remembering times when we were alone. He's married and has a little girl, and though he went on and on about his baby, he never mentioned her, not once. And I fucking hate that as well. Who the fuck does he think he is? Acting like the divide between us didn't exist. Acting like he didn't choose a life that didn't have a place for me.
    Towards the end, I finally asked the question, why did you call me? Why didn't Dave call me to tell me the news? He answered, but it was so weak neither one of us wanted to acknowledge it. If for only an hour, we were together again. He kept saying that he had to get a new cell number, that his old company was overcharging him. Which was why I didn't recognize the number. I wonder, if he called me, just to make sure I had his new number.
    Did he want me to have his number? Did he want me to stay in touch? Did he remember that in three days it will be eleven years since we first met? Does he even care?
    A part of me hopes he does care, but another part, the biggest part, knows he can't. Regrets are something everyone can afford, but changing a mistake isn't that easy. You can't change who you are, you can only hide. Hiding destroys the best part of you, hiding destroys your ability to tell the truth. I wonder if I ever got the truth, I wonder if he could even tell the truth.
    After we hung up, I re-wrote this piece, something I had written a few months ago but felt something was missing. Oh Jason, how you stir my creativity. My fragile friend, my elusive muse.
    And Now You Know
    By: Jason R.
    You called me up on the phone today
    It was a struggle to find the words to say
    They say time can heal all the wounds
    But I?ve been sick since before the womb
    Just so you know
    I?m not the one that you once knew
    That lonely kid all alone in school
    I?ve made a new life accepted it all
    I embraced the name you wrote on the wall
    And you know
    When I needed you most you weren?t there
    More than alone and broke beyond repair
    I lost more of life reaping what you sow
    I don?t hate you but now you know
    When my father died I stole his last breath
    I was addicted to lust and flirting with meth
    My first trick was a boy with your face
    A suicidal thing with a beautiful taste
    And did you know
    Confronted my mother about the sins of the past
    Screamed at a tombstone about death too fast
    Wrote a thing or two about a boy named John
    Accepted the fact that most of me is wrong
    Just so you know
    When I needed you most you turned away
    You were afraid of what others might say
    So you stayed safe and I went to skid row
    I don?t hate you but now you know
    The question I ask is why the years of lies
    I know you liked me in between your thighs
    Each night you might lie next to your wife
    But I know you miss me and our secret life
    Yes I know
    In the end I guess I?m finally doing fine
    I?ve leveled out and reasoned the rhyme
    Next to me lies a boy I call best friend
    And yet if I had to I?d do it all over again
    And now you know
  18. Jason Rimbaud

    Anniversary

    By Jason Rimbaud,

    "It's not that I didn't like the gift..."
    "You don't," Ron interrupted while flipping through a magazine.
    "Right, but he doesn't have to know that."
    "He will figure it out when you never wear it and it goes the way the rest of his gifts have gone," Ron said, gesturing towards the closet.
    "It's our fifth year anniversary, that deserves something more romantic than a brown coat and an even plainer brown scarf," Daniel exclaimed, pushing his hair off his forehead.
    "It could have been worse you know."
    "Really. How?"
    "Remember the animal print top he bought you two years ago," Ron said, putting the magazine down on his lap. "What kind of animal was that again?"
    "Zebra."
    "Right, that would have been worse. A zebra printed coat."
    "Sometimes I wonder if he is even gay."
    "I doubt that," Ron said as he busied himself with his magazine. "I see how you walk into the kitchen the morning after date night."
    "That's what I mean," Daniel stood up angrily. "You shouldn't be privy to our love making sessions."
    "And you shouldn't be calling it 'our love making sessions' either."
    "We use to stay out all night just talking. We'd go out for long walks on the beach under the moonlight. We'd hold hands and make out until the sun came up over the city."
    "And I remember when you thought turtle necks hid your tremendously long neck."
    Daniel ignored him and continued, "Now I cook dinner, he opens a bottle of wine. We snuggle on the couch while watching Alien Encounters before shuffling off to our bed promptly at nine pm where our love making sessions begin and end by nine-thirty."
    "Sounds like a pretty horrible life to me," Ron said as he stood up and looked at his watch. "You have a man that not only puts up with all your crazy insecurities, your family baggage, and still loves you so much there are times I get physically ill being in the same room with you two. Horrible life."
    "You know what I mean," Daniel said as he threw up his hands in frustration. "What if it's over?"
    Ron rolled his eyes. He loved his brother more than anything but there were times it was exhausting listening to his insecurities. "COme on drama queen, we have to go if we are going to make that seven oclock showing."
    "I can't believe he has to work late on our anniversary."
    "Damn," Ron stated as he looked down at his shoe. "I think I have a broken shoelace. Why don't you go get the car and I'll change shoes and meet you down in a minute."
    "Okay."
    The moment the door closed behind Daniel, Ron pulled out his phone and waited for the connection.
    "Is it set?" The voice on the other end asked.
    "My brother the drama queen is heading down as we speak."
    "How mad is he?"
    "You know my brother, he doesn't even know how he feels moment to moment."
    "Thanks again for watching the house this weekend. You are by far my favorite brother in law."
    "I'm your only brother in law weirdo, "Ron said with a laugh. "Have fun in Bermuda."
    Ron returned his phone to his pocket and kicked off his shoes. He sat down on the sofa and put his hands behind his head and sighed loudly. "Finally, some peace and quiet."
  20. Jason Rimbaud
    Starring Jason Momoa as Arthur/Aquaman, Amber Heard as Mera, Willem Dafoe as Vulko, Patrick Wilson as King Orm/Ocean Master, Nicole Kidman as Atlanna, and Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as Manta. It was directed by the wonderfully talented James Wan, the creator of the Saw Franchise.
    Aquaman takes place shortly after the events of Justice League. This bit of information seemed to be slipped in right away to make sure we all know this is part of the DCEU. But just as Wonder Woman carved her own path away from the sadness that was Man Of Steel, Batman V Superman, and Justice League with a story that focused on plot supported by CGI, Aquaman at its core, is a character driven film that made me care about the characters and their journey.
    Aquaman lives somewhere between the dark vision of Zack Snyder and the playfulness of Patty Jenkins, taking elements from both while carving a visually stunning film. I would venture a guess that the script was heavily rewritten multiple times attempting to course correct after the tepid reception of the Znyderverse and the sheer fun factor of Wonder Woman. The downside to what I am assuming is heavy rewrites, leaves us with a film that doesn’t seem to know what its suppose to be sometimes from moment to moment.
    Is it a light-hearted underwater tale with horrible dad jokes or a morality tale of sons paying for the sins of their fathers? As I type this, I still can’t tell you what this movie is about.
    In one of the darker moments of the film, Arthur takes out a bunch of pirates as they try to steal a submarine. While this sequence is visually stunning and really showcases the raw power Arthur can command, Arthur allows the father of one of the pirates to drown, thus creating one of the major villains in Aquaman’s cannon.
    This act really shocked me, as it was hard for me to believe that considering Arthur’s own mother was killed when he was young, that he could dismiss the pleas of a son to save his drowning father so flippantly.
    This sequence reminded me how I felt while watching Black Panther last year. Like Killmonger, Manta has a great back-story and a reason for revenge that makes his story arc believable and compelling.
    And in almost the next scene, Arthur and his father are in a bar drinking beer for breakfast when several scary biker looking guys approach them. This scene is played for suspense at first, when one of the guys barks out, ‘are you him’. Arthur turns around and for a moment, you think it’s about to go down. Then the scary biker looking guy exclaims out like an excited child that he wants a picture of Aquaman. This is like five minutes after Arthur kills numerous pirates on the submarine. And to make it a bit worse, there is a collage of Arthur drinking beer and taking photos with the scary bikers.
    The transitions between the dark and light moments happens so fast it was rather jarring at times. Yet Amber Heard was delightful as Mera, and has one of the coolest powers in the movie. Mera is far from being a damsel in distress. Not only does she stand toe to toe with Aquaman, but manages to save him numerous times and is a complete badass in her own right. Amber’s performance is well-rounded as I’ve seen in a long time. Plus, she’s a great strong female character for young teens.
    Orm makes a great villain and is almost underplayed by the talented Patrick Wilson. Though his motivation flips between his hatred towards Arthur whom he blames for the death of his mother and his hatred for the surface dwellers that has polluted the worlds oceans. I did find it a bit odd that his hatred for Arthur seemed misplaced as it would make more sense to hate his father who ordered the death of his mother.
    Take away the over the head message of the dangers of pollution, the jumps between light-hearted dad jokes, and brooding craziness, the core of the film is entertaining and I would recommend you watch it as the CGI is breathtaking.  
  21. Jason Rimbaud

    Aspirant

    By Jason Rimbaud,

    Aspirant
    By: Jason R.
    I must have died
    For now you're inside
    And I'm unprepared
    To bring in the light
    And admit that your right
    That I'm fucking scared
    To say all the words
    To show I'm disturbed
    Though in recovery
    So I embrace you with hope
    To cope
    With dope
    So you won't know
    And then let go
    Why can't you only see
    The best things in me
    And not these broken dreams
    All my broken dreams
    There is this darkness in me
    Broken bits that you'll see
    And you'll start to run
    I'll push you away
    While wanting to stay
    I'm the deranged one
    I can't fall in love
    Decreed from above
    At least thus far
    So I put these words to the page
    To cage
    My rage
    So you won't know
    And then let go
    Why can't you only see
    The best things in me
    And not these broken things
    All my broken things
    Late at night
    I'm all alone in the dark
    I look deep inside my heart
    And suddenly happiness isn't far
    It's wherever you...ARE
  22. Jason Rimbaud
    Current music selection: Blue October from the album History for Sale
    Current state: Pretty Drunk
    Current mood: Yeah...right
    Daniel, my forty-two year old roommate, his friend Fredricko (excuse me if this name is misspelled I never got the chance to ask him the correct way) and I spent last Tuesday night out drinking and having a good time with several of our friends. From the moment I met Fredricko I was mesmerized. He's gorgeous to say the least. About five foot five, one hundred twenty pounds, amazing brown eyes. Though he hides them behind thick glasses. Just this delicious little nerd.
    He was celebrating a promotion so he was generously buying shots. Rounds and rounds of jager bombs. Jesus, he wouldn't stop buying and after a few hours we were all quite hammered. During the night, Fredricko and I had been flirting pretty heavily. Even going as far as making out by the pool table to the dismay of several straight men. It was a straight bar after all. So I'm not really surprised they threw peanuts at us. Thank god I'm not allergic. Anyway, after hitting more than a few bars, some straight some gay, we were really heating up.
    After we called a cab and made it back home, Daniel declares he's retiring for the night. Fredricko and I decide the celebration was just beginning if you get my drift. So we head back to my room to finish getting to know one another better. It's going great, clothing are flying around the room, my favorite shirt was ripped off my body and I lost a contact. It was hot and heavy. Once my underwear joined the pile of clothes on the floor I was in heaven. And for a while, life was perfect.
    But life nevers stays perfect. If I would have only known the consequences, I would have never stopped him from his...exploration of my situation...nor would have I thrown him on his back and ripped off his underwear. But I didn't know the consequences and I did just that.
    Even in the dim glow of the moon, I saw it. And I wasn't prepared. I'm three times seven, I've been around the block more than a few times. And I'm not talking about these small San Francisco blocks either, I'm saying those big New York City blocks. I've walked in on my Aunt and Uncle doing things I've only read about, scarred yes, but I dealt. I've woken up in the middle of the night with my younger brother sitting on my bed stark naked, his hands moving so fast I was sure a fire would erupt at any moment. After I finished puking I dealt. But there was nothing in my bag of experience that could have prepared me for the horror I saw between Fredricko's legs.
    I've heard about boys like him but I never thought I would encounter such weirdness in my lifetime. Let me tell you, I freaked out, lost my mind and did some kind of dance that still leaves my puzzled. I mean, Tom Cruise jumping around on couches was nothing compared to the level of freaked out I achieved.
    The thing that freaked me out. Let's just say when I delivered to my parents, the doctor had made some adjustments to me. Adjustments that Fredricko's doctor skipped. I don't know, maybe he didn't have insurance. Either way, I saw this...thing...it looked similiar to mine but had some extra stuff that freaked me out. And since I was drunk, let's say I could've handled it better.
    Okay, I jumped off the bed and pointed at it and said in a very quiet voice, "What the fuck is that?" I warned you, I didn't handle it well. I thought he was going to cry, the look on his face was a look I hope I never see again. He called me an asshole and gathered up his things and left the room before I could do anything like apologize or explain why I was so freaked out.
    THe next morning, a very pissed off Daniel greeted me at the breakfast table. Fredricko was no where to be found and I felt like an ass. After Daniel finished yelling at me, I explained what happened and wouldn't you know that bastard started laughing. That just pissed me off. It had really freaked me out. It didn't help matters that Daniel dropped his pants and showed his "situation" to me. After a close examination of his situation, I now know the difference between Fredricko and I. Though I'm a bit tired now after seeing Daniel's junk I do feel I'm better prepared next time that happens to me. And being somewhat of a whore, I'm sure its only a matter of time.
    So I guess what I'm trying to say, gentlemen, if you're in the same boat as Fredricko and some weirdo freaks out when he sees the extra attachment, don't get mad. Maybe let him have a moment to get used to this oddity. Anyway, cheers everyone.
    Jason R.
  23. Jason Rimbaud

    Being Gay Sucks

    By Jason Rimbaud,

    Current Music Selection: DJ Sammy
    Current State: Flying the V
    Current Mood: Somewhat sad
    So I went to dinner with my older brother tonight. My first mistake was showing up sober. Why did I think it would be different this time? It?s been ten years since he found out I was gay. How much fucking time does he need to accept who I am?
    So I?m from a religious family. So my lifestyle is one long sin and I have an open reservation into the seventh layer of hell. Do I really need him to lecture me on morals and righteous living? He?s working on his third marriage and I?m morally deficient.
    While he?s telling me how promiscuous ?my kind? behaves, he?s flirting with the waitress. And she couldn?t have been more than eighteen. Maybe the left should re-evaluate their belief systems.
    And he says I broke our mother?s heart. I?m pretty sure her expectations and desires didn?t include having three daughter-in-laws or three grandchildren by two different mothers. Fuck, she should be happy she got grandkids at all after all the lectures she drilled into our heads about the dangers of sex.
    I remember the last time I was in the same room as my parents; I was surrounded by a group of ?concerned? family friends who decided I need a prayer circle to cleanse me of my sinful ways. Believe me when I say that no amount of chanting or yelling will ever cure my desire to suck cock. It?s bred into me on a very basic level. You know, genetically.
    My mother calls me periodically to guilt me into becoming straight. Or to read me passages of scripture that describes in disturbing detail what awaits in the afterlife for people like me.
    Thanks to her, I now know that people like me are a bunch of pedophiles, drug addicts, and sex offenders that only end up in jail or dead from sexually transmitted diseases. Looking on my life, I figure I?m doing all right. I only have two of those problems at the moment. But then I?m still young yet.
    I remember a few years ago, my mother drove from the Valley to San Francisco to see me. She called me at seven AM and wanted to go to breakfast. She kept saying how much she missed our relationship and wanted to mend the fences so to speak. After I kicked out the boy I picked up the night before and hid my drugs, I arranged for her to come pick me up at my apartment.
    Much to my surprise, she?s waiting for me in the lobby of my building. So I let her up and as I shower and get rid of the smell of sex, I hope that we can somehow achieve peace between us.
    As a child, my family was close. I lost my father shortly after I came out. Well, I never came out so to speak. It was more I got caught in the living room sucking off one of the boys from church. My brother stills claims the shock of finding out his youngest son was a faggot caused the stroke that slowly took his life. Maybe that?s the reason my mother hates me so, I killed her husband.
    During breakfast, my mother apologized for the way she had been behaving and asked my forgiveness. I was shocked. There was a god and he answered my prayers. We cried and for a moment, I felt like I was complete again. I might not have my mother?s approval or understanding but I knew I had her unconditional love and support. For those two hours, my life was perfect.
    Her words, I still remember so clearly. ?I want you to know everything I did, everything I?ll do, is always with your best interest. I love you Jason, don?t ever forget that.?
    Those words accompanied me back to my apartment. But the illusion of those words were shattered when I opened the door and saw my childhood minister and three imposing men waiting for me in my living room. Again, my mistake in trusting my mother.
    I escaped conditioning only because I was over eighteen and legally they could not take me against my will. That was the last time I saw my mother. But sadly, that was not the last I heard from my mother.
    While I was in the shower washing away the sex, my mother was busy putting little post-it-notes around my apartment. In my dresser, under my sheets, in the pockets of all my shirts, my desk, my kitchen cabinets, anywhere you could possibly think of posting a note, she posted. Each note with a different scripture verse and corresponding reason why I should stop being gay. Family.
    My brother and I really have nothing in common. He?s straight and like all straight people, he has an agenda. To alter anyone like me into his ?Normal? behavior. To keep people like me from ever marrying or enjoying the same freedoms.
    My first mistake was arriving sober. My last mistake was allowing him to make me feel bad about being gay. Sometimes I hate my life and wish I were never born this way. Sometimes I hate being gay. That sometime is today. I hate being gay. I hate the way it makes me feel. I hate the way I can?t have a relationship with my family. I hate the fact I can?t change it. I hate the fact that I?ve become everything I hate about gay people. I hate the fact that I?ve written these words. Today I hate everything.
    No wonder I think about letting the pain slide. No wonder I think about letting the pain slide. I wonder when I?ll let the pain slide.
    Dark thoughts from me tonight. I?m sorry but I?m a bit depressed and I don?t feel like typing anything else. Cheers and tears.
    Jason R.
  24. Jason Rimbaud
    I saw a picture of Camy and his boyfriend, M today.
    Just want to say...wow...Camy is yummy for being such an old man.
    I can't believe his birthday was a few days ago and somehow I missed wishing him the best. So I'll do something out of character, I'll make this blog entry all about someone else today.
    Just to let him know we all are thinking about him...take a moment and send him another or for the first time, birthday wishes and to congrats him for turning the big 50 while managing to look younger than me.
    HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAMY! Best wishes for you and M, I couldn't be happier.
    Well, I could be happier...we could share a pint for your birthday, that would make me happier. Or Mark and I could go away for a few days...though you really can't help me with that.
    Or could you?
    How rich are you? I'm assuming by now, 50 years old, you have to have something socked away for a rainy day. Care to make a donation to the Mark and I getting away for some out of town sex fund?
    Jason (happy to dedicate this blog entry to Camy)
    I just realized, this is two blog entries in a row where Camy is being featured. I hope M don't get made at this silly American for flirting a tad with Camy. But then I saw his picture, M has nothing to worry about. Camy has way better taste than me.
    Jason (for real ending this Shiite)
  25. Jason Rimbaud

    Bitter Remains

    By Jason Rimbaud,

    Bitter Remains
    Written July 30th, 2001
    By: Jason R.
    ?Dammit,? Justin cursed, slamming the phone down even before he heard the first ring. He rubbed his hands over his freshly shaven scalp and shut his eyes. There were times he thought everything might disappear if he could only shut his eyes tightly enough. Hating the feeling of his shaved scalp, he mentally kicked himself for his drunken impulsiveness: shaving his beautiful curls only to spite ?him? was pure stupidity.
    He looked around the shabby, one-bedroom apartment with blurry eyes and frowned. There was a time not long ago that his surroundings would have been quite different. But he was far away from the grand house on the hill, and the stained carpet and worn furniture only served to remind him of his loss.
    Scowling, he turned his head and looked towards the kitchen. His eyes found a bottle of cheap vodka, mostly empty, on the counter. He stumbled towards it, and not bothering with ice or a mixer, he dumped the remainder into a glass, and walked outside to the small patio, the apartment?s one and only luxury.
    It was a rare summer night in San Francisco; it was raining. Leaning against the railing, he tilted his head back and emptied the contents of the glass. By this time in the night, the bitterness of the alcohol had no effect on him. The rain fell down on his half-naked body and mingled with the tears that fell from his eyes, blurring together his confusion and pain.
    ?Why me?? he screamed into the night sky, hoping, demanding an answer from some kind of higher power. ?Why did he leave me??
    He had asked that question hundreds of times and never had gotten the right answer. No solace or forgiveness would come to him, no matter how many times he cried out. In his heart he knew the answer, yet he still cried out.
    He was alone and broken, because his boyfriend was tired of dealing with the lies, fed up with the cheating, and sick of waiting for love that was never given. This was why Justin drank himself into a stupor night after night?searching to find peace that always eluded him.
    He squeezed his eyes shut, so tightly that the tears could no longer fall, and gripped the railing. His mouth opened in a silent scream; he tried desperately to stop the memories, the raw emotion that careened through his drunken mind.
    But nothing could stop the memory of the night it all fell apart, the night ?he? left.
    ?I can?t take any more of this shit, Justin. It?s killing me,? Daniel screamed, pushing Justin away. ?Can?t you see that? You?re killing me.?
    That night went all wrong when Daniel arrived back at the house and found Justin in bed with another boy, for what seemed like the hundredth time.
    ?Wait,? Justin stammered, trying with one hand to cover his naked body with the sheet while reaching for his discarded boxers with the other. ?I can explain.?
    The invisible stranger, the boy who didn?t matter, had a look of confusion and embarrassment on his face as he tried to hide under the sheet, but he was having a hard time as Justin kept ripping it out of his grasp.
    ?No,? Daniel stated in a tired voice, his tone icy and barely controlled. ?No more explanations, no more lies. No more, Justin.?
    Hopping on one foot, Justin tried to pull his boxers on while saying, ?Wait! It?s not what you think. I didn?t want this to happen. He was a mistake.?
    ?Really,? Daniel said, spinning around towards the two boys. His eyes filled with rage. ?Did he force you at gunpoint??
    ?Daniel.?
    ?Did he have a cardiac arrest and the only way you could think of to give him CPR was to pound him up the ass??
    ?I??
    ?No,? Daniel cut him off, pointing a finger at the boy. ?I?m sick of you fucking every little twink you meet the moment my back is turned.?
    The invisible boy spoke up, ?Wait, I?m not just??
    Justin and Daniel both turned and yelled, ?Shut up.?
    The invisible boy ducked under the sheet again as Justin fell to his knees and begged, ?It won?t happen again, I swear. Just give me one more chance.?
    Tears fell down Daniel?s cheek, but he shook his head sadly and said, ?I can?t. Not again, Justin. You don?t get any more chances.?
    Justin stayed on his knees as the door slammed shut. He stayed on the floor, his arms wrapped around his body, crying. He didn?t notice the invisible boy leave the room, nor did he care. The man he loved just walked out of his life.
    Shaking from the power of the memories, Justin cried as he tilted his head back and let the rain wash over him. But the memories that crashed into his fragile mind would not let go until he looked at each and every one. Gripping the edge of the railing, he screamed again. But the scream couldn?t prevent the images from smashing through his defenses, shattering the last of his control, forcing him to remember.
    ?You?re so peaceful when you sleep,? Justin whispered into his boyfriend?s hair, causing the sleeping boy to stir. He leaned forward and kissed Daniel?s forehead, all the while fighting the passion that threatened to consume him. He moved down and gently kissed Daniel?s lips, tenderly and filled with love.
    ?Mm, I love you,? Daniel mumbled, still in that semi-lucid state somewhere between reality and dreams. ?How was the club??
    ?It was fun,? Justin replied, kissing Daniel again. ?But Sheila was really wasted.?
    ?Tell me about it later,? Daniel said, then yawned as he settled back onto his pillow.
    Snuggling up behind his boyfriend, Justin lay there in the manner of all lovers?gently connected with legs and arms intertwined, making it hard to distinguish one from the other. And when Daniel pushed back into his embrace, Justin felt the warmth of his lover gently caressing his whole body. Daniel moved his head back until he could feel Justin?s shallow breath on his neck. He sighed.
    Justin?s lips found the back of Daniel?s neck and softly kissed him, completing the nightly ritual they shared before falling asleep. They drifted off, both feeling the comfort of the intimate experience they shared.
    ?I had it all,? Justin mused aloud. ?Why did I ruin it??
    And as always, when he reached this point of inebriation, reality and fantasy blurred together. Not that he would listen to the truth if he heard it, but he always asked.
    He tried to wipe the tears from his eyes, but the pouring rain replaced them. His bare chest was slick from the rain, and his pants were soaked through. He shivered, the cold drops feeling like punishment from the heavens. He stood there shaking, crying from the pain in his heart so long that he turned numb?which is what he longed to truly feel.
    His ravaged mind tried to sort out this reality, to comprehend this behavior, but the pain and disillusionment kept him from seeing the destructive nature of this nightly ritual. So he kept playing this scene out in his mind, night after night, drinking until he couldn?t feel the pain any more, drinking until he passed out for a few fitful hours of sleep, before the agony set in again with the dawn, wracking his body with nausea.
    ?I love you, Daniel, he stated simply, staring up to the dark sky. But it was too late for any kind of admission. Daniel was gone, and nothing would bring him back.
    Stumbling inside, he headed for the bedroom, not bothering to remove his wet pants. He fell on the unmade bed and curled up in a fetal position, continuing to sob. A note lay next to him on the nightstand; he reached out for it and clutched it to his face until the tears made it a blurry mess.
    But it didn?t matter; he knew the words by heart. He had read it over and over again until the words were etched in his mind, burned there for all eternity. The letter was from Sheila, written two weeks earlier. The last line of the note read, ?I?m sorry, Justin, but he?s married now.?
    His world exploded around him and his mind finally had enough for one night, and he drifted away to the nightmares that haunted his dreams. His last moment of clarity was a longing look towards the phone sitting on the bed beside him. But he didn?t call Daniel. He never did.

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