i don't really have anything in particular to write about, but it is now 2:19 am and i don't know what else to do. i kind of miss living alone, i miss being able to just up and leave in the middle of the night without worrying if my roommate is going to steal my stuff. i'm not threatened by him, i am just paranoid like that.
well, let me tell you about what happened today. i was looking through my leisure suit larry pleasure pack, looking through the booklet, and i saw two hot dogs cooked to the point where their tips curved up. that was a turn-on, i found myself staring at the hot dog drawings for a little bit. funny thing is, i have never seen hot dogs as attractive. i've never seen anything that wasn't masculine attractive. i felt hannibal the cannibal right next to me, i could feel his breath as he quipped out the word "images" in an evil, barely audible whisper.
images. yes, blood started rushing down to my pee-pee. yes, i was getting hard. yes, all because of this image that reminded me of masculinity and of the fact that all men were not created (at least in their own minds) equal. images. the more we are exposed to and dwell on images of what we consider to be a supreme manly figure, the more we may see ourselves as less than perfect, and here enters the question 'why am i gay?'. because gays are as jealous of russell crowe's presence as straights are jealous of shania twain's, gays need a man in their life for the same reason straights need a woman - they feel left out. justify my love. "images"