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Life is only what you wonder.

Thursday, April 29, 2004

What's Your Name?

Your drag name:

Your first name is the name of your very first pet.
Your last name is a street you lived on.

    My drag name is: Samantha Foxwood

Your porn star name:

Your first name is the name of your second pet.
Your last name is your mother's maiden name.

    My porn star name is: Ricky Harden
Let me just state for the record: I have never done porn.
I did try drag -- only once (and I really should tell that story sometime), but my name wasn't Samantha Foxwood.
It was Landa Lakes.

Wednesday, April 28, 2004

Dreamscape Escapades

Last night I dreamt of Yoko Ono.

First, let me just state that most of the time I don't remember my dreams.
But whenever it happens that I do happen to remember them they're very, very weird.
We're talking David Lynch meets Salvadore Dali in The Twilight Zone kind of bizarre surreality that only my twisted mind could come up with.
Clowns brandishing rutabagas and painted prostitutes on unicycles baking Betty Crocker pies kind of strangeness.
So it stands to reason that nothing I ever dream of (or remember that I dreamt, rather) ever surprises me.

Anyway, here's the dream:

In this dream Yoko and I were really good friends, and for some reason she was only around 30 years old and she had long shining black hair that would have probably reached her butt if she hadn't had it up in a soft ponytail.
We were in her bedroom, sitting indian-style on her huge bed drinking green tea from delicate china cups. We were both wearing flannel pajamas (hers floral and mine checked) and Yoko had moisturizer on her face and we were chatting and giggling like little schoolgirls.

"I love what you've done to the place, Yoke." I said, sipping my tea and gesturing at the room.
(I was calling her "Yoke" all through the dream.)

"Thanks, Jimmy," she replied , "But it was all my designer's work. I just told him to give me something fabulous!"

"Well, one can never be too fabulous." I said, sipping more tea.

"Let me tell you something, Jimbo, the best way to be fabulous is to just do whatever you want and not give a rat's ass about what anybody else thinks," she replied grabbing her jar of moisturizer from her bedside table and dabbing more underneath her eyes.
"People will talk about you, of course, but they're just jealous that you have the courage to do what you want and they don't. People will talk about you whatever you do, so you might as well do whatever you want."
"You want some?" she said, indicating the jar of moisturizer.

"Uh, no thanks, Yoke, I'm fine." I replied.

"I'm cold." Yoko stated suddenly, "Come get under the covers with me and we'll tell each other outrageous stories about the wild times of our youth!"

She giggled and the corners of her eyes crinkled up.
We pulled back the covers and got under them and proceeded to talk, seemingly for hours. I don't remember our conversation, but it was wild, funny, and totally amazing.
One thing I do remember her saying is:
"If your life has no fun in it, than what's the point of living?"

I remember replying, "That's my philosophy on life exactly!"

All in all, a pretty good dream
Maybe I'll dream of Yoko again sometime.

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

Nice Line

Coppertone

Is it just me, or are tan lines incredibly sexy?

There's something really hot about seeing a guy who is a nice golden brown wearing low-rise jeans and seeing a small strip of white untanned flesh at the top of his waistband.
Yummy!

Or seeing a dude with a Bain de Soleil tan and his butt is milky white, completely untouched by the sun.
Woof!

It's like seeing something forbidden. It's like you're not supposed to be seeing that.
That's what makes it erotic.

What I love about tan lines, is that it makes the person seem even more untouched. Even if he isn't, (and I know he isn't) it's the whole fantasy of it.

Or maybe it is just me.

Saturday, April 24, 2004

Three Questions - Part 1

Re: this post.
My Three Questions from Ms. Thing:
    1. "What did you do with that dildo your coworkers gave you as a gift?"
    Actually, it was a candle shaped like a penis, and it's currently in the bottom of a very cluttered junk drawer. I'm just waiting for an opportunity to give it to someone else as a gag gift or something. Do you have a birthday coming up?

    2. "When you go to bars or to play pool, does G. Typically accompany you?"
    Sometimes we go together. Sometimes I go alone. Sometimes I meet friends out for drinks and G. does something else entirely. Our schedules don't complement each other that much and sometimes it's difficult to have the same days off. Of course, I try to spend as much time with him as I can.

    3. "What other job positions have you held outside of your current one as a server?"
    Let's see, I was a Lane Waxer at a bowling alley (Fair Lanes). In high school I worked in almost every fast food place you can think of (McDonald's, Burger King, KFC, Roy Rogers, Taco Bell). Aside from being a server in restaurants I've also been a short order cook, line cook, dishwasher, bus boy, prep person, host, and practically anything else there is to do at a restaurant. I've been a cashier in (among other places) a supermarket, a video rental place, and a gift store. I've sold erotic materials (and tokens for the peep shows) at an adult emporium. I was an exotic dancer at the Club Atlantis and also at the Chesapeake House (in DC -- now closed). I've sold advertising over the phone for a newspaper. I've worked at a convenience store (Royal Farms). I was an assistant to the President (and CEO) of the National Peace Foundation in DC. That was by far my most favorite job ever.
    I've done many, many things. I'm not afraid of hard work.

My Three Questions from Benjamin:
    1. "What was your favorite dance song of the 90s?"
    "Ooh... ahh.... Just a Little Bit" by Gina G. The beat is infectious, and the lyrics are really positive. It's very difficult to be depressed when you hear this song.

    2. What do your favorite pair of shoes look like?
    My favorite shoes are my red and white Nike high tops. I've actually bought outfits specifically because they match these shoes and not the other way around.

    3. "If there were three things that you could ask George W. Bush, what would they be?"
    "What exactly is your problem with gay marriage?"
    "In your State of the Union speech, you stated that the presence of '25,000 liters of anthrax ... 38,000 liters of botulinum toxin ... materials to produce as much as 500 tons of sarin, mustard and VX nerve agent ... upwards of 30,000 munitions capable of delivering chemical agents' posed an imminent threat to this nation. Where are the WMD?"
    "Why are you such a weenie?"

My Three Questions from Tasberry:
    1. "Have you ever had sex with a black man?"
    Yes, many many times. Black men can be incredibly sexy.
    There isn't any particular race I prefer, it depends entirely on the individual guy. Race is not an issue with me.
    Since were keeping score, I've also bedded several latinos, but unfortunately, I've never had an Asian man -- dang it! It'll happen eventually, I'm sure.

    2. "Have you ever had sex with a woman?"
    Once. It was a disaster. This girl Sonja I knew was determined to "straighten me out". She invited me over and we had several drinks and we were just having conversation and I thought "Hey, this is nice" when suddenly, out of the blue she was all over me. I protested, and she was like "How do you know if you don't like it if you've never tried it?"
    So I did it.
    It was weird. I wasn't used to breasts, so they were just strange to me. What were you supposed to do with them?
    Cunnilingus wasn't exactly a walk in the park either. I had to keep referencing back to High School Biology. "This is the labia, so that thing up there must be the clitoris!" I would think in amazement. I'm am so glad I got an A in that class!
    Ultimately, I got through it and she seemed satisfied with my "performance", but it just wasn't my cup of tea.
    I kept fantasizing she was Brad Pitt. That's the only thing that got me through it.

    3. "What is your favorite kind of music?"
    My music collection is very diverse, but I tend to listen to music from the 1980's most. Depeche Mode, Pat Benatar, Blondie, Cyndi Lauper, Simple Minds, the Pretty in Pink soundtrack, Bryan Adams. I love the 80's.

"Three Questions - Part 2" will be coming soon.

Note to Benjamin and Tas: Don't forget to copy and paste the "Three Questions" text (from my post from yesterday)to your own weblog so others (including me) can ask you questions, mmmmkay?

Friday, April 23, 2004

Let's Get Something Started

Audience participation time.
Three Questions

1. Ask me three questions (use the comments below, or send an email). These questions can be about anything at all. No subject is taboo.
2. I a future post (or posts if it takes more than one) I will answer your questions and be as honest as I can possibly be.
3. Along with your questions and my answers I will post a link to to the person's weblog who asked me the questions.
4. After you ask me your questions cut and paste this text on your own weblog allowing other to ask you questions, which you will answer honestly in future posts (etc.)
The more people participate, the more it will spread.
Fun for all!

Thursday, April 22, 2004

Most Entertaining Spam To Date

I just recieved this in my INBOX. It was all in Russian, and I was curious, so I went to Alta Vista to translate it.
This was the result:
From: chaofeng [masuhiro@t-online.de]
To: Wonder Boy [wonderboy@writeme.com]
CC:
Subject: presents
Date: Thu, 22 Apr 2004 04:59:54 +0000

[Translated from Russian]

Greater there is no need in the hurry to cover the bed by cover!

The new collection of clothes for bed from www.mypresent.ru will your apartment allow to vyglyadyat comfortably and brilliantly in any forms and any situations!

Maybe I need to check this out.
I really want to be able to "vyglyadyat" comfortably.

Have you vyglyadyated today?

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

New Review


Party Monster - (2003)
Starring: Macaulay Culkin, Seth Green, William McDermott, Wilmer Valderrama, and Marilyn Manson

Party Monster is an outrageous tale based on the true story of trend-setting "Club Kid" and convicted murderer Michael Alig.

Michael (played by the perpetually bee-stung-lipped Macaulay Culkin) arrives in NYC and enlists the aid of the original Club Kid, James St. James, on how to be "fabulous".
St. James tells him "'The road to excess leads to the palace of wisdom.' That's all you really need to know. That, and 'Don't dream it, be it'."

So begins Michaels morbidly facinating decent into drugs, depravity, and (eventually) murder.

The performances are incredible.
Green and Culkin are almost too queeny in their roles as Alig and St. James. It's amazing that straight actors can play gay so convincingly.
Marilyn Manson plays the very bizarre Christina Superstar and Wilmer Valderrama ( Fez, That 70's Show) is a very pleasant surpise as Michael's lover Keoki.

I only rented the DVD last night and I've already watched it twice.
If I'm not careful, Party Monster could end up being one of my favorite films.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

Quote Of The Day:


"My only regret in my life is that none of my children are gay.
However, I still love them anyway!"

-- Sharon Osborne at the GLAAD Media Awards in L.A.

If only all parents were this understanding.

Saturday, April 17, 2004

Just Like A Pill

    Question of the Day:

    If there were a pill you could take that would change your sexual orientation and make you totally straight, would you take it?
    (Assume that the effects are permanant and irreversable and there are no ill side-effects.)

My answer?
If someone would have asked me that question at age 15, I would have said, "hell, yes! Give it to me!" and swallowed it without even a glass of water to wash it down.
Had I taken that (hypothetical) pill then I would (quite possibly) have never been kicked out of the house and disowned and life would (probably) have been alot easier.
There are no guarentees it would have worked out that way, of course.

If someone were to ask me that now, I would say no. No way. Hell, no!
It's taken awhile to be comfortable in my own skin. If I took a "straight pill" I'd have to learn myself all over again.

Would I like Cher as much as I do? Probably not.

Would I still enjoy watching reruns of Wonder Woman? Actually, I probably would -- but I'd be looking at Lynda Carter's melons instead of paying attention to the plot.
And I would only look at Undergear to peruse the clothes. How whack would that be?

Plus, what kind of women would I be attracted to? I would have no way of knowing any of that.

(Note To Fireguy: I know you said you take the pill if it were offered to you, but I think you should think about it some more.)

Friday, April 16, 2004

You Should Get An Award

Not to be confused with the Bloggies, there are some weblogs that deserve special recognition for one reason or another.
So without further ado, I proudly present . . .
The 2004 Wonder Boy Weblog Awards

Best pixie dust: Glitter For All
Best gay Baltimore-area weblog: The Thoughts of KM
Best weblog by a gay man trapped in a woman's body: Exceptional Mediocrity
Most missed weblog: Nightmare Boy
Best weblog where the author's name, stats, and appearance are almost a total mystery: Addaboy
Best blog template I'd love to steal: Rocka
Weblog most likely to make me nostalgic for the late 80's-early 90's: Zbornak
Best weblog for American Idol updates: Bare Naked Sean
Best poetry weblog: Corey Spears (Plus, he's very dreamy to look at!)
Best "tellin' it like it is" weblog: Cyber Kenny
Best weblog for pics of sexy men: doublecool, Exceptional Mediocrity (tie)
Most surreal weblog: little minx
Best photographs (on a non-PhotoBlog): Towleroad
Best weblog by a rocket scientist: The Launch Pad
Best dairy-free weblog: No Milk, Please
Best weblog for provoking thought: The Dailai Banana
Best weblog by someone who thinks about sex more than I do: Geek Slut
Best (worst?) false advertising: Bare Naked Sean (I'm sure he gets naked but I've never seen it -- and believe me I've looked!)
Best weblog for obscure and almost incomprehensible (but strangely intriguing) posts: The Incredible True Facts of Space!
Blogger most likely to make a comeback: Sprite Boy

If you're on the list, give yourself a gold star.
Great jobs, people!

Thursday, April 15, 2004

I Wrote A Book And Jesus Wasn't In It

    My current list of Things To Do . . .

  • Lose at least 5 pounds by May 1st. Which means no eating cutting down on all the pizza, guacamole-flavored Doritos, and McDonald's cheeseburgers I love so much.

  • Get a DSL internet hookup. (No Fireguy, DSL doesn't stand for Dick Sucking Lips. I already got a set o' those.)

  • Buy a digital camera. I've been doing the Kodak Picture CD thing, but I want to be able to point, click, and upload.

  • Get more club/party gear, or at least a few new outfits for spring.
What's new?
Drinks and good conversation last night with Irish Tex at the Gallery One bar.
The drinks were too strong (and if I'm sayin' that you just know they were really extreme).
8 parts liquor to two parts soda with three lonely ice cubes floating at the top.
The music was pretty good. They had the Muzak on the Hip-Hop channel.
E'rybody in the club gettin' tipsy!
The drinks were so strong they couldn't help it.

I was determined to play pool, but there were too many people waiting.
It would have been hours before I got the chance.

Next I went to The Hippo still hell-bent on playing pool. No such luck. Both pool tables surrounded by womyn.
I don't play pool with lesbians, they're too good. LOL!

Cruised heavily by a cute young boi in blue jeans and a white t-shirt.
I get cruised more now than I did when I was single.
How strange weird ironic frustrating is that?

I'm off to find some trouble to get into.
Who knows, I might even jerk my own adventure.

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

"Don't Worry About That."

That's my new favorite phrase.
I must have said it at least twenty times yesterday.
When someone asks a personal question they have absoloutely no business asking in the first place. My response:
    "Don't worry about that."
When someone offers their (unsolicited) opinion,which is usually negative, about something I've said or something I did.
    "Don't worry about that."

This phrase is so darned useful, it's nearly exceeding the words "please" and "thank you" in my vocabulary.
It's a nice way of saying "It's none of yer beeswax" without sounding like a big fat jerk.

Of course, it might come across that way anyway, but you know what?
I don't worry about that.

Sunday, April 11, 2004

Hoppin' Down The Bunny Trail

Happy Easter!
I'm wishing everyone a big basket full of goodies today!

I am so dreading going to work today.
Starting around 12:30 (right around the time most churches let out) there will be a line out the door at my restaurant. By the time I get there at 2:30 it's going to be crazy.
All the servers will have the wide opened eyed glazed look of a deer caught in headlights and before the night is over, I'll have that very same look on my own face.
I'm going to have dreams (nightmares?) tonight of women in floral print dresses wearing humongous hats and men looking like pastel-colored pimps.

My tips will probably be pretty good, so perhaps I shouldn't complain.

BTW, I just found this site.
I would include a funny satirical comment on it, but it's rendered me utterly speechless.

Saturday, April 10, 2004

Soon To Be A Puddle On The Floor

I just logged into tribe.net and my good friend Fireguy wrote me this testimonial:
"To me, Wonder Boy is one of those guys that everyone should have in their lives.

If Wonder Boy was on sale at the Wal-Mart, I would tell you to go out and get him right now and keep him with you always -- through all your great times, through all your not so great times, through all your worse than not so great times.

'Cause I can think back to times when I needed a solution to something, and he was quick to provide a thoughtful answer.
If I needed to just complain, and vent about things, he listened and made me laugh at those things and learn something.
This guy truly keeps the crossover network in my brain working.

All in All, Wonder Boy has an ability to reduce the complex to the simple, and to me that is True Genius."

I am melting right now.

Mama Told Me Not To Use It

I rented Hairspray, the John Water's movie, yesterday.
I had seen it in the movie theater when it came out (in 1988), but I hadn't seen it since.
I remember really enjoying that movie and was looking forward to seeing it again.

It would had better off if I hadn't.
My memories of the movie were better than the movie itself.

A similar thing happened when I was watching h. r. pufnstuf not too long ago.
I loved watching that when I was a kid.
I saw it recently and I'm like "I used to get all excited over this?
What was I thinking?"

Friday, April 09, 2004

Almost Could'a Would'a Been

I went out to Leon's for Happy Hour last night.
It definitely wasn't fabulous, but then again it wasn't really meant to be.
I was there to het happy, not to be fabuolous.

In fact, it was kind of a "Wrinkle Room", but then again it almost always is.
One of the great things about going to Leon's is I'm almost always the youngest one there!
It brings back fond memories of when I was chicken.

Anytime you start feeling old and that the best years of your life have come and gone, and you start feeling depressed because it seems like the days of wine and roses are all over, just pop into Leon's and sit on a stool and look around.
Compared to the other clientele, you're as young as springtime.

I ran into Brady while I was there. It is always nice to see him.
There was a time when we were that close to being boyfriends, but for some reason or other it never happened.
Everyone has a few "might have been something more" people in their lives, I guess.
Where it almost happened, but for some reason, it didn't.

So we talked for a little while and "caught up".
How's this for ironic? Brady just moved into a new apartment on St. Paul Street (in Mount Vernon). I asked him the address and it turns out to be the very same apartment I lived in for a little while a few years back.
Weird.

I forgot to ask Brady if the guy who blares Bob Marley at 3AM still lives across the hall.

Thursday, April 08, 2004

Who's That Guy?


There's been a serious lack of Latino or Hispanic men in my monthly "Who's That Guy?" posts.
To rectify that somewhat . . .
Here's Gael Garcia Bernal, whom you might remember from the truly excellent film Y Tu Mama Tambien.
This man has some of the juciest sexiest lips I've ever seen.
WOOF!
I could kiss this man all day and all night.

You can see more photos of him here.

¡Gael Garcia Bernal es muy hermoso! ¡Hombre muy caliente!

Excelsior!

Today marks the second "blog-iversary" of this blog.
Yay!

I started this blog exactly two years ago as sort of a lark.
Something fun to do until I happened to get tired of doing it. When the effort of doing it outweighed the pleasure of having it done, I vowed I would quit.
I didn't expect the "blogging thing" to last very long --and especially not two years.

The most amzing thing? I haven't gotten bored with it yet.
That's a minor miracle in itself that there are still things I want (or maybe I should say "need"?) to say. I still have the motivation (which is the essential element in the enire process) after all this time.
Believe me, nobody is more surprised at this than I am.

    Anyway, a big hearty Thank You . . .

  • for reading this in the first place.

  • for leaving pithy and thought-provoking comments to the posts.

  • for signing the Guestbook. (hint, hint)

  • for making the last two years a genuine pleasure.
    Thank you so much!!
BTW, how long do you have to be blogging to be considered a "blog veteran"?
Not that I plan on stopping any time soon.

You can't get rid of me that easily!

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

It Feels So Empty Without Me

Guess who's back . . . back again?

That's right, Jimmy, your (humble) narrator and anti-hero is back from his self-imposed exile (AKA "vacation").
It feels so good to be back!
You don't know how much you miss blogging until you take a break from it.
Trust and believe.

"Where did you go?" "What kind of fabulousness (is that even a word?) were you involved in?" I can hear you asking.
Did I visit the fleshpots of Bangkok (where you can rent a willing and eager young man for the entire night for the ridiculously inexpensive sum of seven American dollars)?
Did I lounge at my beachhouse in Naples where my houseboy, Eduardo, rubbed me down with exotic oils and fed me grapes poolside?
Did I get a deep, dark Coppertone tan while sunning on the tranquil beaches of southern California?

The answer is a definite "no" to all of the above.
(Dang it!)

What I did do might sound kind of pedestrian, but I spent the last seven days spending Quality Time with the husband.
No working, no computers, email or internet, and (almost) no telephone.
No stone dead silences while he watches endless reruns of Cops on TV and I've got my nose buried in one book or another.
No "you do your thing, and I'll do mine."
Quality Time.
Relating to one another with very few distractions.

Not that we didn't do anything fun.
We tripped the light fantastic; had a few candlelit dinners; a few evenings spent snuggling in front of the TV watching DVD's we both chose, and walks through the park in the sun, happy to be together, enjoying nature and talking to squirrels.
(Well, I was the one who was talking to squirrels - but I'm crazy like that.)

The reason for all this togetherness?

April 1st was the fifth anniversary since the husband and I first got together.
Five years!
It's the longest I've ever been in a relationship with anybody.
Defin'ly new territory. Not a bad place to explore, though.

I just finished reading what Chris wrote while I was away. Didn't he do a fantasic job? Is he not awesome?
And he did it for free. My cheap ass didn't even offer to buy him a six pack or anything.
That's how cool Chris is.
If I could've had a little brother, I would have wanted one just like Chris.
Of course, he's so cuddly and cute I probably would have wanted to fool around with him - which is incestuous.

On second thought, things are great just the way they are.

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

I Hope The Door Don't Hit Me In What The Lord Done Give Me...

Well, that's my little guest stint for the week. It's time for me to clean up the place, glue all the broken lamps and vases back together, scrub the puke stains out of the furniture, hide the kegs, and buy a nice rug to cover the scorch marks on the floor, all before Jimmy gets back.

It's been a pleasure and an honor to keep the bench warm while WonderBoy was away - hopefully I haven't wrecked the place too badly, and I can drop by again sometime.

Thanks for all the comments (even the one dissing Sandy Bernhard, tsk tsk!), and best of everything to alla yez.

Signing off,
- c.

This post is by Special Guest Blogger Chistopher.
Jimmy is currently on vacation and will return Wednesday, April 7th.

I Suppose Courtney Love Is My Fault Too

Whenever the time changes and we all spring forward or fall back by an hour, my mother has always flown into a confused indignation, usually directed personally at me, as if the whole thing were my idea.

You see, my mother has lived in Indiana for most of her life. In Indiana, people don't spring forward. They don't fall back. The only time a clock is set is when you bring it home fresh from the WalMart or when the electricity comes back on. Heck, as someone who lived the first 23 years of his life in the Hoosier state, I've gotta say the whole time-change thing baffled me when I first encountered it after moving to the big city.

But, see, I didn't blame anyone for it.

"So what time is it out there now?" my mother will ask in exasperation, as if enquiring about my latest shade of Manic Panic mall punk hair.

I will attempt to explain the time change.

"You know, Chris," she'll say with a sour sigh, "I really can't keep up with all this time change stuff you're doing."

At which point, I feel as if the whole concept of time in the world outside of Indiana is indeed somehow a huge imposition, and maybe it is all my fault.

I'll have my martyr complex with a side of rye toast, please.

This post is by Special Guest Blogger Chistopher.
Jimmy is currently on vacation and will return Wednesday, April 7th.

Saturday, April 03, 2004

I Believe In Myself Just Enough To Properly Replenish

In lieu of sharing something with actual substance, let me suffice it to say that today I have made a solid resolution to not feel bad about drinking bottled water anymore, even if some say it's silly and bad for the environment and Sandra Bernhard calls it a "plastic titty obsession".

Hey, we all have our own definition of a breakthrough, okay?

This post is by Special Guest Blogger Chistopher.
Jimmy is currently on vacation and will return Wednesday, April 7th.

Thursday, April 01, 2004

You Are SO Good Looking.

Question du jour:

Do some people take offense when they sneeze and you say "gesundheit" instead of "bless you"?

If so, what's that all about?

It isn't as if "gesundheit" is German for "Hail Satan and smoke another cigarette while you're at it". Right?

This is something I've noticed at work. Someone sneezes - a co-worker calls out "Bless you!"

Immediate reply: "Thank you."

Then someone (okay, ME) calls out "gesundheit".

Silence.

I need some light shed on this apparent gesundheitphobia, like, NOW.

This post is by Special Guest Blogger Chistopher.
Jimmy is currently on vacation and will return Wednesday, April 7th.