It's never even occured to me to take pictures of my ass before, much less post them on the internet.
I suppose I was just bored.
I went down to the Cavern for a shot and a beer, and ran into the same gal I saw there a couple of weeks back. She was just as talkative as before. I just wanted to look at her face, it was like a light shining. Her eyes have some quality that pulls me in. She had recently trimmed her eyebrows and took care to show me the job she had done. It was pretty good work. Then she wondered if she should take out her nose ring before she goes to church tomorrow.
But it was impossible to communicate with her. She actually started talking about books, which I can usually work with, but she's the type who does all the talking all the time. I can take that as long as it stays interesting, but it didn't.
So the part of me that's attracted to her physically wants to stay there and keep listening while the rest of me is saying get out.
So I got out.
Stopped by the poetry reading to see if it was any good and the cops were there counseling a guy on the street, The same guy was there last night and they hauled him away. He wants to get into the reading but he's too drunk/disoriented to make it through the door without causing problems. Last night he flopped down on his back in the door and refused to move, which is why they called the cops in the first place.
Tonight I don't know what he did but they said he had 5 minutes to leave or they would arrest him again. So he took off down the alley, a pathetic wasted figure unwelcome even among poets.
Imagine that.
I didn't go into the reading, just stood outside and watched a while. Some guy was very quietly speaking while another crouched next to him strumming on a string tied to a stick.
I didn't feel like being a part of it.
I stopped at the gay hamburger joint and had a burger with the gays. They always have that loud techno-music going on two giant screen tvs, and usually someone is cuddling on the couch.
The dykes always indulge me and the guys are all business.
It's really a pretty friendly place, There are two gay bars right next door which are always full on the weekend nights, so it's a little bit like going to a party to have a burger there.
It always makes me feel a little melancholy to walk away from all that happiness and affection.
It was windy on the streets tonight. Chilly enough to zip up my jacket.
The cops were busting someone in the alley close to my place. They were directing him to toss out the keys and get out with his hands up. I watched that for a little bit but didn't feel like being a part of it either.
So I came home and took pictures of my ass. Imagine that.
I suppose I was just bored.
I went down to the Cavern for a shot and a beer, and ran into the same gal I saw there a couple of weeks back. She was just as talkative as before. I just wanted to look at her face, it was like a light shining. Her eyes have some quality that pulls me in. She had recently trimmed her eyebrows and took care to show me the job she had done. It was pretty good work. Then she wondered if she should take out her nose ring before she goes to church tomorrow.
But it was impossible to communicate with her. She actually started talking about books, which I can usually work with, but she's the type who does all the talking all the time. I can take that as long as it stays interesting, but it didn't.
So the part of me that's attracted to her physically wants to stay there and keep listening while the rest of me is saying get out.
So I got out.
Stopped by the poetry reading to see if it was any good and the cops were there counseling a guy on the street, The same guy was there last night and they hauled him away. He wants to get into the reading but he's too drunk/disoriented to make it through the door without causing problems. Last night he flopped down on his back in the door and refused to move, which is why they called the cops in the first place.
Tonight I don't know what he did but they said he had 5 minutes to leave or they would arrest him again. So he took off down the alley, a pathetic wasted figure unwelcome even among poets.
Imagine that.
I didn't go into the reading, just stood outside and watched a while. Some guy was very quietly speaking while another crouched next to him strumming on a string tied to a stick.
I didn't feel like being a part of it.
I stopped at the gay hamburger joint and had a burger with the gays. They always have that loud techno-music going on two giant screen tvs, and usually someone is cuddling on the couch.
The dykes always indulge me and the guys are all business.
It's really a pretty friendly place, There are two gay bars right next door which are always full on the weekend nights, so it's a little bit like going to a party to have a burger there.
It always makes me feel a little melancholy to walk away from all that happiness and affection.
It was windy on the streets tonight. Chilly enough to zip up my jacket.
The cops were busting someone in the alley close to my place. They were directing him to toss out the keys and get out with his hands up. I watched that for a little bit but didn't feel like being a part of it either.
So I came home and took pictures of my ass. Imagine that.