brianjames81

Had the big summer bash at my place the other day. It was the usual amount of sex, bugs and rock-n-roll. A little too much male drama here and there but still a good drunken mess with the odd discovery that a folding chair can hold two and half gay men as well as one straight one (the evidence, I mean pix are being developed now E-me if you want to see.)

Despite having a few bouts of record breaking sex with one of the most beautiful girls in the world, I woke up Sunday with my usual feeling of doom. I think Ive been home way too long. Im getting antsy. I havent had a good whoring misadventure in a while; no robots or serial killers or drag queens or space monkeys or unexplainable rashes. You see, I go through a terrible withdraw if I dont get to wake up every couple weeks with a blonde wig on my floor and someone singing Debbie Gibson songs in my hotel shower (draw your own conclusions, but keep in mind that girls, monkeys and robots can wear wigs too.).

Im heading off to Atlanta on Monday, which kicks off my whole summer travel. Ill be out saving the world until September.

In order to get rid of the doom, last night I mixed some (ok a lot of) vodka, lime and ice in the shaker then sat in the sunroom and watched the storm roll in. At one point I dozed off and had my recurring dream of fighting zombies on a snowy mountain. I dont know what that means, but I can tell you this: I can kick zombie ass.

Big thanks to Starr, Trent and Alexisnicole for making me look like Im working during the day. Youre the best.