Jason Rimbaud

Told you I needed some wisdom.... Jason

Hmm, I never saw a handle on the left side either. I just went to home depot to look, couldn't find any. And when I ask the home depot person if they made a toilet with the handle on the left side, he looked at me, blinked, and asked why would it matter.Home Depot sucked...So I called up a few plumbing stores, and found out the only way to get a toilet with the handle of the left side was to special order it. And it's expensive...really expensive.As for the rest, Colinian was right...the Blog entry was called, have a question, insert here. And he's the only one that had a question. I guess the rest of you know everything about everything.Can I have some wisdom please?Jason

I always loved poetry that strips the writer bare and lays it all for the world to see. If I had a seal of approval, like Des Down Under, I would give it freely. Jason

Where does love go when it dies? Jason

Hey Gabe, This is really good...undisguised anger that's barely controlled with a healthy dose of contempt. You mentioned something about a voice message you received, and this was your retort. My question: Are you the protagonist or is it the person leaving the voice message to you? This is brilliant work...I likes it Jason

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)

This is quite good Trab, and you say you can't do this writing thing. Very sad that you left that poor boy sitting in the car with those tears falling down. I likes it...very muchly Jason

*takes mental picture*Thank you.*scampers over to the computer and opens up photoshop*Jason

Take my advice, Maddy.DON"T EVER HAVE SEX!It's highly addictive and rather messy to boot. And it's a complete waste of time.Instead of having sex, you just sit down at the old computer and write more poems. You'll feel better and I'll feel better because I'd have something new to read.Jason (who might have other motives than Maddy's well being)

This is probably the funniest thing I've read in dayserr...years... Damn, I don't know what to write now. Thanks alot. Jason (honoredhonoured to be a dumb American)

Very funny TR...that's still making me laugh. Caylor, I'll join you...down with those pesky penguins. Jason

Thanks Colin, I'm so stupidly happy right now. And Caylor, trust me, it's been years since I've written a poem like this. It surprised me, and I'm sure it surprised everyone on this site as well. Jason

I could lie and say i wrote this just for you...but I think you'd know I was lying. Jason

*takes a look around to make sure no one is near**reaches into backpack and pulls out a fresh jar of Nuttella*Here...hope this helps.Jason *skulks away into the night/morning*

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)

Finally, my clocks are back on the right time. Much like Elecivil's mis-matching socks, I rebel by refusing to switch my clocks. It drives both of my friends nuts, as I tend to be an hour late for functions. Though now they've learned to lie to me about the time they want me to show up. Jason

Cole, please...never feel that I would take offense by anything you say. And trust me, I know that bit about knowing each other sober, it's one of the things that causes doubt. And yet...fuck me I'm happy. Today, we had a catering event, and Mark went to the private party while I stayed and worked in the restaurant. About half way through the night, he sent me a text message, and though it was a single word, it brought this stupid grin to my face. So much so, that one of my coworkers noticed the dopey look on my face as I read the text. She asked, "Who is it, your boyfriend?I replied, "I sure hope so."She gave me a hug and we both went back to work. But for the rest of the night, I couldn't help but smile. And the funny thing, my tips were actually higher than normal. J

You must be slipping Desilu...if your BF is actually sleeping when lying next to you. Why, it wasn't that long ago, I believe just back in 1964, that the two of you crazy kids rarely slept at all.Matter of fact, I seem to recall a rumor that when one of you finally realized that sleep was a requirement and not a perk, then you would have to skulk back home to your respective mommies to catch a few hours of sleep.Methinks I should have a brief(read three day tryst)word with your BF to evaluate your keeping him awake abilities. Don't worry, because you are my favorite Desilu...I won't even charge you.Jason

I'm with Rad....who the hell was even alive way back then? 1964?Des?Wibby?Cole?Bah...I don't care who said the "F"ing thing...I just want my damn date with Des's down under parts.Jason

Yesterday, Mark and I met for coffee an hour before work. I guess he knew I was still pissed and in his usual stubborn refusal to ignore things like normal males, he confronted me. How is it that this little boy can have so much power over me? He's not that hot, more of a nerd really, just your average type "Joe". His haircut is nonexistent, I think his mother puts a bowl on his head and snips away. His taste in clothes is typical of every stoner in the world, jeans and t-shirts with skater hoodies. And...he's a drug addict. Though I must admit that pot is pretty harmless. But fuck, I don't think I ever saw him completely sober. But "just" pot or not, he still is an addict. And I don't think I need an addict in my life, one is enough thank you. Can you believe it's been five months without cocaine? I think out of everything I've ever accomplished, I am most proud of that. Five months completely off cocaine and pills. And I can't remember that last time I was drunk. God I'm getting boring. Forget about the drugs, let's focus instead on Mark's girlfriend. Did you know that after four months, they still haven't had sex yet? Apparently, and boy did I wish he would've kept this bit of information private, there's been a handful of blowjobs and some finger work, that's it. Should I be happy about this? Because as he told me this earlier today, he was fully expecting me to jump up and down with joy at this admission. Yeah, you haven't fucked her yet, you don't know if you will fuck her in the future, you come scratching at my door every day to shag like bunnies, but in the end, you still have her. Answer me that fucking question. You wanted to talk, let's discuss this topic. There's something about his eyes, it's hard to keep my thoughts in order when I stare into his eyes. And the one thing I really like is his constant eye contact. I find myself forgetting my argument while peering into his chocolate eyes. And a few weeks ago I found out I was allergic to chocolate. Why can't I learn my lesson? Fuck Mark. Unfortunately he never answered my questions at the coffee shop. Our co-worker saw Mark's car and came inside to join us for a cup of coffee. Boy was that awkward, here we were in the middle of a fight about our....whatever it is...and suddenly we have to act all nice and status quo. And I hate that. I've been through to much shit in my life because of my sexuality...I'm not up for hiding, or keeping secrets about something I am not ashamed to be. We worked, estranged and uncomfortable. So out of sorts, a few of the other servers commented on our lack of "affection". How do you answer that? Oh sorry, can't be all fluffy giggles with Mark, I'm mad because though he's fucking me and not her, she gets the prime time with him. You know the time slot that involves public appearances mixed with family time. Something I really like about Mark, he is extremely family orientated. Something I believe keeps him silent about me and firmly with "HER", his family might not be accepting. Which is something I doubt considering the closeness they share. I'm sure his mother would love him the same. I think all the problems reside inside Mark's fear of being labeled a "gay". Later that night, I finish first. I get my tip money and bolt out the back door without saying goodbye. Mainly because throughout the shift, I had convinced myself that, though fun, continuing with Mark was self-destructive and maybe a threat to my sobriety. I had decided to cut my losses. I wasn't a block away from my hip upscale restaurant when my phone started ringing. Without looking, I knew who it was. We hadn't finished our "fight" at the coffee shop and Mark couldn't let it go. I threw my phone in the back seat and turned the radio up. By the time I got home, he had called four times. I left the phone in the car. Once inside my apartment, I headed to the fridge and grabbed the Orange Vodka and OJ and made myself a cocktail. When my doorbell rang two hours later, I had three cocktails. Not enough to be drunk, but just happy enough to answer the door. On my way to the door, I told myself that I would fuck him one more time, and send him on his way like a worn out trick. I was going to treat him like I would any other one nighter. I wasn't even going to kiss him. I opened the door, shirtless and smiling with a drink in my hand. He didn't say a word, he grabbed my head and kissed me. It was like nothing else...I can't describe it...I won't...this is for me, something I won't share. A few minutes later, we had somehow made it the couch, and somewhere in between he has lost his shirt. It was so intense, I didn't even tell him to take off his shoes. He was right there, next to me, staring into my eyes. "Why didn't you answer the phone?" I didn't want to talk to you, I'm still mad. He smiles...fucker...I look into his eyes...he speaks, "I was wondering if you'd like to come to my house for dinner." Did I tell you, since he's still in college, he lives at home? Um, did I tell you that I haven't been to his house...yet? Why? I know, but it hasn't sunk in yet. "I want you to meet my mom and my sister." I met them, remember they came into the restaurant. He shakes his head, and playfully smacks mine. "I really like you." Remember, I'm a bit happy(read drunk). Okay, I'll tell the truth, it wasn't three cocktails, more like six. I was a bit drunk by this point. "I really like you." Prove it. That was me, my challenge to him. I was still pissed. He's fucking me and playing with her. Nobody wins...nobody. For the first time, he looks away, takes a deep breath, and almost whispers, "It's over." I'm crushed, because though I don't want him to know it, I really, really, really like him. And since I don't want to know how much he hurt me, I say, It's for the best. He looks at me, sees my face and for a moment he looks confused. This his face lights up and he starts to giggle. He grabs my face and kisses me again. ( it's none of your business) "No, silly fag. I broke up with her tonight." We didn't talk much after that. We messed up the covers on my bed and had one fantastic shower a bit later on. Much of the evening is a bit blurry. He's still not ready to admit/come out, he doesn't want anyone to know about us. But god damn, she's gone, out of the picture, flushed away. I don't know what the future will hold. There is a lot of obstacles and a hesitation on my part to try this. He's so much younger than me, so much he hasn't experienced yet. But fuck, the world is such a better place when he's lying next to me. He brings a calm, a willingness to try. To be something like human. Jason PS: I'm sorry about the errors and spelling issues with this piece. When I first started writing it, I was a bit pissed, slightly drunk and by the time I finished writing it, now it's after five am, I'm happy and quite exhausted. And I won't go back and re write it like I would normally.

At first...I thought Wibby had Colin out for the count. Then Colin jumped up and gave him the one two punch. So for the moment, I'd have to call it a draw. Jason Um, Colin, kick that Raccoons ass. Psst! Wibby. Colin's gunning for you. He's young, still in school. You can't let him win. Kick his ass. *sits back and watches the fun*

I almost choke on my soda after reading that...thanks Wibby...that is what I needed after the day I had. Jason Rimbaud