everyone has a freak show To share…

“freak shows”. playdate gone south. trick was no treat. hook up from hell.

it seems (purely my observation/opinion) that a hook-up tanking in epic proportion is in some way a rite of passage into the world of party and play.  in fact, i remember feeling more like i belonged when gathered with my party pals and the sharing of “freak shows” commenced, when I was finally able to chime in with my own first mis-adventures . i learned early on if you’re gonna dance with Tina you’d better get steel toed shoes.

my mis-adventures over the years is a broad range of experiences. I’ve had: baggie chasers (#1 most common offense), to faux tops (#2 most common offense), last minute boyfriends, housing challenged, income challenged (see i can be politically correct). a 5-suitcase=collection-of-toys, being stranded when my bff 86’d me in a motel in a moment of panic (we’d ridden together), a paranoia attack so intense i had to call 911, curtain peeking, chatty-cathy’s, computer compulsives (guilty as charged), 2 OD’s and still my favorite… the guy that picked me up SIX hours late and was astounded that i wasn’t ready when he got there.

in the beginning i was relentless, judgmental and a harsh critic of my flawed comrades. i’d go on for days about responsibility and “keeping your shit together”. now i try to be a littl more tempered in my judgements and i have my own “momenTs” to thank for that.

i have had a melt down or two. you can’t stay in this game as long as i have and not have one. universal law. and on those occasions, i am afraid it was i, that was someones’  else’s “freak show”.

to minimize the frequency and impact of “freak shows” i have a series of screening questions, some i ask directly and others are hidden amidst the chase. even then, it’s no guarantee. recently i hooked up with what i thought was the daily double. he passed all the questions with flying colors. my only red flag…was he was a little too eager and sounded a little too good to be true:

vers/top, stocked with product, has his own place, has transportation, common sexual interests, just starting to party and can play now.

the flaw in MY process? some people flat lie.

stocked with product turned out to be “…very little left” and did i “bring some”

then he told me about the boyfriend at work and that we were on “….his time…” meaning said jealous, suspicious boyfriend could show up for a fidelity check any freaking moment

and my “daily double” decides to spring this on me exactly 5 minutes after we bang one as he enters a full blow paranoia outbreak and worse yet, guess who’s not a top or versatile anything for that matter?

my dick went soft when he started flying about the room (yes, flapping of wings) and pulling  his hair whil screaming  “Fuck Me, Fuck Me, Fuck Me Now or I’ll Die”!

and in that exact moment an unannounced  #2 and #3 arrive: one a bewlidded straight husband on the lam and his cohort a 6’ 7” 270 pound bdsm top (with a portable sling) who eyed said straight husband like lunch.

as the screeching and the begging got worse we all decided best to sit and wait for the boyfriend and perhaps let him deal the daily double.

when the boys gathered for storytelling the next week i knew i had the BEST freak show story in the bag. i mean seriously when does flying, freaking, paranoid, lying, drug seeking, supposed top WITH a jealous partner who could arrive any second PLUS Bever Clever’s and Rambo beat an “i forgot to tell u i’m amputee and I like to fuck with my prosthetic off” story.

Please, Myrna.

you KNOW they had to buy me dinner.

happy trails

i too sang The blues..:

i don’t known how old i was or exactly what year it was when i first saw the 1972 movie lady sings the blues with dianna ross (who incidentally gave the performance of a lifetime) I do know I was well into my mastery of alcoholism because at least 8/10 times i watched the movie i was fully fortified with an arsenal of booze. (crying is always so much easier when you are blotto)

the draw of the movie, for me, was the music. i love the music of billie holiday, sarah vaughn, and diana washington. i used to lay on the floor of my apartment with a stereo speaker at each ear and a liter of whatever singing all about my troubles. little did i know.

now what happened when i saw the movie; THAT is absolutely clear in my mind. the what being that i stopped breathing..literally. not once, but twice, I literally found myself  holding my breath during a certain scene.

the first time I held my breath was the scene where a strung out billie holiday (ross) attempts to apply lipstick with a very shaky hand. it’s clear she is trying so hard to keep her shit together and to “look” like she is ok, at any cost. its a moment of pleading with the universe and perhaps a silent bargain “if you will just get me through this…”  of course, no matter how hard she tries, everything is askew; her crooked lipstick a ironic twist to drive home the point: ms. holiday has a problem.

and who can forget the scene in the bathroom where a desperate billie, no longer worried about how she looks, struggles to get a needle in her arm so that she can stop shaking, stop the voices that are screaming inside her head , relieve the pain . ms. holiday has more than a problem. ms. holiday is a junkie.

so why? why me? why did i hold my breath? yes the story is tragic and yes ms. ross delivered an outstanding performance. but this was something much deeper. it was instinctual. it was automatic. and it was uncomfortable.

looking back I know what happened to me that day. unknowingly and instinctually it happened. as i watched billie’s world disappear into a sea of drugs, what i saw was a glimpse into my future.

you know you’re an addicT when…

You feel the burn and you push anyway because it’s the best vein you have left and you just freaking need to get high

The coming dawn

You know what time of day I hate?


It’s a leftover from the really rocky days with Tina…when we were at our worst. It’s like I lost all ability to tell time were it not for sunrises. Dare not ask me which day of the week it was.

Worst run I can remember, 17 days with what I could account for as 3 hour-or-so “crack naps”. I was beyond psychotic by that point but was aware that enough to tell folks you really do get a second wind at the 2 week mark! I remember being SO proud of that “research”.

My limit today..24 hours period ! It’s a very very rare exception I break that rule and now I force my body to rest even if sleep is evasive.

So back to dawn, that pesky peeking light, how’d we get there?

Inevitably there was the party that started the night before (or the night (s) before that) with some guy (s) met in the Internet, the getting ready, the waiting for the guy (s) to get there, the waiting on the supplies to arrive, the intros, warms ups, blast offs and then time is no longer something that is relative; it becomes a blur. It suspends.

That is until the sun starts to peek around the curtains or through the blinds or begins to bathe the ceiling above the windows in a soft light (if you are lucky enough to still be on your back at this point lol). It starts out grey blue, then to a pale blue, soft-soft yellow and then a full on glorious golden sunrise.

My eyes hurt.


It’s a buzz kill a, reality check; the world suddenly and rushingly impeding on my happy place. The light calls for a start to an end, a slowing down and closing shop or a get up and get going depending on your schedule. Either way in the distance I can hear Rosemary Clooney singing “The Party’s Over”.

“Over? I think to myself, “we are just getting going, right?”

Some day I’ll have to tell you about the dark, why I’m more comfortable there, why I love it but that’s indeed a whole ‘nother blog isn’t it?

At least I know that, for today, my eyes will be closed in slumber when that light starts to creep in this morning. The partying is taking a little holiday and I am resting mind, body and soul.

I wonder what Rosemary would sing for that?

gay hook up siTes…

Sorry ladies this is one for the boys tonight.

I just loved asking the question of a gay tweaker:

So how many hook up websites do you belong to and which ones work best for you?

If you want to bring a conversation to a grinding halt just asked that question!

The answer is inevitably “ONE”

<laughter, rolling about floor, unable to breathe >

“Yeah, right Sister”

To date I’ve NEVER met a tweaker who gave an honest answer to this question…one my fairy ass. Just tonight alone I saw him check three accounts on his cellphone.

In fact, on average, my experience has been when you bust the liar’s chops it turns into more like SIX sites per gay tweaker.

So what does the truth look like?

Well it’s a lot like my playlist actually…here’s a run down:






breedingzone, and what gay Tweaker leaves off Craigslist ???

This AFTER I got rid of








Add to that chat and video sites:




NKP’s, Grandslammerz and breedzones’s Video amd Chat Rooms

Dont get me started on KIK or Chatterbate.

And God Help me, I still miss ICU2!

Most sites either turn a blind eye to drug use or openly endorse it by allowing your profile to publicly state that you do drugs and in what frequency. All completely deny it like the corporate robots they are.

So there you go boys…that’s a run down of where to shop for boys when you fly.

And I am JUST scratching the surface here, I kid u NOT!

But he warned …shopping for dick is NOT for the faint of heart !

It’s exhausting, it takes hours, battery power, an ability to multi task and keep up with multiple sites, ability to efficiently screen candidates, and a built in bullshit and freak sensor plus a will of iron.

No wonder we take drugs!


Find 2 hook up sites that work best/produce the best results for your geographical area and sexual / party preferences and call it a day.

Nuff said.

you know you’re an addicT when…

Your neck vein becomes a viable option

you know you’re an addicT when …

You are the ONLY one left at the party or there IS no party and you keep using ANYWAY.