Fatty of my own

Maybe someday

Townhouse in the Upper West Side, NY


Walked down to Times Square from the UWS to catch the da Vinci exhibit.

That’s a whole entry there but just lemme say that: (a) there was a time when religion, science, and art went together and (b) it strikes me as really strange that the same country that gave us da Vinci gave us the people on the Jersey Shore.

Speaking of giving us people, Bryson came by with his fatty today and she was the cutest thing. Make’s me think about having a kid myself. Then again, can barely take care of George and Harold. Still, think all guys start thinking about cranking out a few rug rats roundabout this time.

As I told you before, Bryson’s no joke – took the bronze at the Pan-Americans. But something about a kid mellows a fella out.

Cooked him up some wings and we kicked back a beer as she drooled happily all over him.

Then had dinner with a buddy that owns this jaw-dropping 4,400 SF pad and four kids a few blocks from me.

It’s cool, seeing your friends become men.

Like I said, maybe I’ll get a fatty of my own some day.

Location: three blocks away
Mood: stuffed
Music: Sleep tonight And may your dreams Be realized


Jbell and something completely different

Location: 2:10, spit please
Mood: puzzled
Music: I am likely to miss the main event If I stop

Woke up at an ungodly hour to drive all over the city. Still didn’t finish what I had to finish. Also went to the dentist today for the first time in four years. Two dentists in 11 years – no cavities.

Her: I am curious as to why two of your teeth on your left side are cracked.
Me: Mstpoplererihndedsowen…
Her: I’m sorry, what?
Me: (taking tube outta mouth) Most people are right handed. So when I get punched in the face, I get banged up on my left side.
Her: Does that happen often?
Me: More than y’might imagine.

Got into a very perplexing conversation with Heartgirl today so I’m distracted yet again. It’s onea those things that I need to figure out myself before I write about it.

Breaking with tradition for the second time, HEI has a blog. So readers, please meet: JBell.

She came by for dinner the other night to borrow Syd. We chatted over some rum. It’s nice when people stick around your Venn Diagrams no matter how screwy y’are. You can read her take on me if you can figure out which one’s me.

On that note, someone’s wondered if I’m nicer in this blog than I am in real life, so in addition to Jbell, the girlie from Sunday said she’d write her view of what happened in my last entry – she said she wrote it in my style (yes, she knows about this blog, no I didn’t meet her from it). I never considered that I have a style, but I digress:

Me (the girlie): Are you alright?
Him (Logan): I’m always alright.

He did his fake smile with all the teeth, but the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s not always alright.

And then the thing happened with George. I didn’t scream because screams are not words.

Him: (on phone) Pick him up! Put him back in!
Me: You pick him up! I don’t want to touch him! Pick him up!
Him: (scooping up George in a paper towel) He’s dead! Do you think he’s dead?! I think he’s dead!
Me: Put him back in! Put him back in anyway!

Then George swam, in a perfect zigzag, to the bottom of the tank. He must have been caught in a current because that was it — he was just there, on his side on the rocks. But we didn’t take him out. The empty tank would be too sad. Logan says there’s one more George in there, he just hasn’t seen him for a while. I’m not so sure. So we left this George in, just in case.

Logan told me some sad stories, but they’re his to tell. I have my own.

The sleeping pills he takes scare me. But so do his sad eyes. He looks like a little boy. His shirt’s too big, and his hair’s sticking up all over. He’s not the womanizer he pretends to be. He’s a lightweight when it comes to his rum. He deserves to be happy.

And suicidal George’s swimming around like a miracle fish. He’s a little banged up on one side, but I think he’s ok for now.

YASYCTAI (hers): Convince Logan that covering the fish tank is worth losing the automatic feeder.

YASYCTAI: Get your teeth cleaned. I wanna make out with someone if only cause my teeth feel amazing. (60 mins/2 pts)
dating personal

We make rules for a reason

I’m always alright

Me: Is it that you don’t want a relationship or you don’t want a relationship with me?
Her: (pause) Couldn’t take another failed relationship, Logan. I can’t. (looking at me) Are you alright?

My fishes keep committing suicide. They jump outta the tank and flop around my floor. They did it tonight when someone was over and she screamed. Dammit, I’m down to one George.

Met up with some blue eyes on Friday to a downtown rooftop where I took a picture of the pier above.

Met up with some green eyes on Saturday where I went to the pier above and took the picture below of the rooftop I was on Friday. My life goes in these funny circles.

PCD made me laugh recently. She kept her promise to stick around. Heartgirl told me that we’re not dating cause we’re beyond that. So I told her she should wind up and swing. She said she couldn’t. Said I understood – but only cause I didn’t wanna know. Trust me when I tell you, you never wanna know why.

Have a secret I’ll tell you someday. But not now. For now, I repeat that my life goes in circles. Said it before, you keep doing what you do, you keep getting what you get. Keep getting what I get cause I keep breaking my rules.

You know why you have rules? You have rules so you don’t have to think. The decision was made a long time ago when someone, hopefully you, were thinking clearly. I’m always tired – never think clearly anymore.

I just keep screwing things up cause I keep breaking my rules.

The girl that screamed went to church with me tonight and walked me home. Just before George jumped outta the tank, she also asked me if I was alright. So I turned to her and put on my best face.

Me: I’m always alright.


Sometimes if you put something into the aether, it becomes true and it’s a good thing. I am alright. Just gotta follow my rules. I’m always alright. George on the other hand…

Location: home
Mood: awake
Music: Don’t wanna leave you but I can’t stay anymore.


A Day in the Life

Was in the paper this past week and a HS friend recognized me and shot me an email. Then Paul and I grabbed a drink around then way with Stephen Phillips. And then I got home and spent the night talking to the Sexologist I met this past weekend. And I still need to come up with $26K.

NYC’s a funny place.


Bedroom 7:00
Radio snaps on. McCain, Clinton, Obama. War. Housing market. Sigh. Six hours sleep. Very good. Situps (auf deutch) …48…49…50. Rub eyes. Check computer next to bed. Geek, me. Stretch. Stumble outta bed, stumble to kitchen.

Kitchen 7:08
Two cups coffee. Peanut butter & marmalade sandwich. Spoonful of ice cream. Protein shake. Gag.

Living Room 7:14
Push-ups (yung zhong wen)…48…49…50. 10 minutes of fencing. Sumbrada three, four & five, right handed. Double-handed. Left-handed. Espada y daga. Wonder why they never made a sequel to The Princess Bride.

Bathroom 7:35
Wash hands. Brush teeth. Consider combing hair. Don’t.

Living Room 7:38
Blue jeans. Black shirt. Grey socks. Good Morning America. Shut down computer. Pen. Wallet. Money. Mobile. Headset. Computer bag. Goodbye George, Goodbye Harold, and Goodbye Sydney.

Outside 8:00
Shut door. Lock gate.

Deep breath…

Blue skies, above. Concrete, below.

Troubles, behind (for now). Weekend Life, ahead.

Location: three hours ago, Dive 75
Mood: sotted
Music: I read the news today, oh boy



I went on a blind date with a very cool and attractive, brown-eyed girl today.

Me: After all my fish died, I bought a bunch more and named them all George.
Her: (quizzical look)
Me: (nodding slowly) They’re pretty upset over the whole matter, too.
Her: (laughs) You should get a goldfish and call him Token because he’ll be the token goldfish.
Me: Well now, that’s just silly.

Also met a bevy of lovely Christian girls at a party on Friday. Weird thing is that when I found out they were Christian, I slipped into anywhere but church mode.

It’s a mental block.

Location: 14:00 yest., the 66th Street Barnes & Noble
Mood: hopeful
Music: I don’t believe that you, you don’t believe in me