okay let me just tell this how it went down. i did/do a lot of internet dating. based on a girl’s profile, i will go out with her. pretty simple. pictures can be deceiving.

i went out with a post op. i realized it pretty quickly but passing up a evening of dinner and drinks, even after it’s gotten started, i have to go through with it out of pure interest.

for those of you just tuning in, you can search the site for “trannies” and find a excellent piece discussing having sex with a tranny is more straight then screwing a big fat girl….it made perfect sense when i wrote it but i’m just not even sure anymore.

we went and had drinks and went our seperate ways.

and this is when the story gets weird, no seriously.

for some reason i tell my mom about this next time i talk to her on the phone. i think it’s funny, feel since it’s funny i should tell her. i mean seriously, if i was a mom i would think it was hilarious that my son accidently went out with someone who was born a man.

no wait….god nevermind

so a few weeks later im talking to one of my memphis clients who happens to be a neighbor of my parents. we talk about email for a few minutes and i notice that she’s being kinda quiet. She finally asks “so, have you been on any interesting dates lately?” and i can hear her fall out of her chair laughing. My mom decided this was definetely a story to share with the entire neighborhood.

im never visiting memphis again.

I still havn’t asked my mom why she decided this embarassing yet funny story was worth the entire neighborhood to share.

It gets better.

I call my aunt patty in ohio. I talk to her like every 4-5 months…hardly ever…..she’s always been the really “cool” aunt, lived in california….it still amazes me hearing her talk a bout having kids now. She’s terrified that her son idolizes me. That scares me too. Anyway i start talking about Beth, the girl who hasn’t talked to me since she was in my furnitureless apartment…and my aunt patty…in ohio goes “oh well your mom told me about your one date!!!”.

I think my parents secretly hate me and spread…well not lies but worse…the truth…to everyone…clients…relatives….

I agree with them too, i hate myself too.

Way to end a update…


i know my life is weird when i can’t write about 80% of the stuff going on in my life. Usually because it involves things about…well about me screwing up in the past……or sometimes because the person involved actually reads the site….this is actually the case very often.

I’m starting to realize i declassify stuff after a few months. People i talked to in the past no longer warrant the discretion that get while talking to me. I figure i can blend them into all the people i talk to and it grants a level of vagueness that keeps me from getting murdered/sued.

I actually have a story from a few months ago that i think im eventually going to need to sit down and type out. Sometimes these stories kinda fuck with me on a level of “omg wow i’m pretty dumb” and i’ll keep it the story vague but im going to just get this one out in the open. I screwed up, maybe i even know i was screwing up while i did it but i am sometimes compelled, if not forced to do things just because i’m terribly bored with everything.

I’ve asked for a week off at my goverment contract. I’m not sure when i want to use it but i’m going to sit in my chair in my apartment and just work on the crackhore book. I’m years behind and i really feel that if i don’t work on it now i’m just going to get older. That’s very true because i have a birthday coming up.

I really have to wonder when i’m going to stop writing in it and start editing and trying to find a place to publish it. I think about on a scale of 1 to 10 the things i do on a monthly/weekly scale that will leave any lasting effect after i am shot down by police/overdose/liver failure/stabbed by a angry lover.

It’s really something everyone should try to do… seems so pointless to live life without recording any of it. People talk about how they think blogging is stupid and pointless but i would love to read what my grandfather drank, his failed relationships before thankfully meeting my grandmother.

Oh well, 5 days should catch me up…..i need to send it to a few close friends to watch over it in case i die…really don’t want the only edition be locked in crackhore and on one of my computers.

black market icecream men

im seriously not leaving my apartment without my camera ever again. Today i have been haunted throughout midcity by these black market ice cream men. These people drive around in this sketchy looking van with this awful music blaring on repeat selling ice cream out of a window they took out on the side. It’s so hilarious watching the looks on parent’s faces when their kid runs after it.

My favorite tho is the one guy who has a retired uhual truck, bring orange and yellow with a huge hole cut out of the side of it. It’s like a bunch of stoners decided one afternoon  that they were going to make a ice cream truck, stole a uhual truck and just went to town.

I swear after today im going to carry my camera with me so that i can catch this shit on film. I seriously can’t put into words the fascination i have with this new orleans oddity…

the web christ has risen

Last night Audra, Wes and i went down to the quarter for some madness.  We walked around downtown watching the insanity and went to Hookah for food, tobacco, etc. I’m not going to write about the part where we’re all so out of that we’re lighting the hookah wrong because even tho you can laugh about yourself, it takes a few weeks sometimes.

I sat next to one of Wes’s med school students who i cannot remember her name to save my life. It’s weird how just so amazingly attractive yet so strange and complex that trying to get to know her would take a life time of conversations, drawings and diagrams to try to figure out any part of it. I’ve met these girls before and it terrifies me to no end. She also kept referring to a boyfriend again

About halfway through the night i switched to whiskey and water which always leads to good writing material. We left Hookah and went to a few different bars in the frenchman area, which i remember less and less about. So much whiskey, so much anger.

I depart from Wes, Audra and the rest of med school crowd. I wander through the quarter, yelling at lightposts, etc. I end up walking up Canal and decide to just walk home. Wes offered me a ride but i really honestly need my weekly russian roulette(sp) of walking around the ghetto.

It gets better. I stop at the ghetto gas station which is a bee hive of ghetto activity on a Sunday morning at 3am. I decide to act like a roman when in rome and get a 2 piece white with a biscuit and 2 tallboys of mickeys 🙂

I stumble home drinking my beer and probably singing rap music to myself. I chow down on my chicke, sitting in my new white person chair. I love my furniture.

I wake up at 10:30am to someone knocking on my door. It’s Pam and it’s time to go over my books. I convienently left my phone in the living room and didn’t see the 3 phone calls earlier that morning from her.

She breaks out the laptop and i finish my beer from the night before and discuss all the people who owe my business money. I swear it’s almost time for a craigslist post seeking a large black man to put on a tight white tshirt with my business’s name on it, show up at people’s offices and say HERE’S YOUR INVOICE.

Now i’m at a coffee shop about to meet with a church about their website. This is going to be a long day.  Thinking that beer this morning might have been a bad idea. Guess only time will tell.

yuppie fucking shit

it’s so comfortable too. almost tool comfortable. and it’s new. there is no seed, farts or anything. new. every single fart and…well nevermind, is going to be mine. it sucks typing this from my old faithful camping chair.

It’s been almost 9 months since ive had anything but the chair and now i’m terrified to leave it. I think it’ll take a few nights of passing out drunk and wasted on sleeping pills to really make it “mine”.

i really feel like a total fag writing on my site about how great it is to get furniture. Then i scroll down and read and remember.

couchandchair 002.jpg

killer idea

okay now ive been struck down before but i want to throw this out there:

sunni’s for

lets just move them here. we got plenty of land…give them gentilly, lakeview, 9th ward, everything….here… one will blow you up….we might rob you but i mean that’s just america….get a knife or a gun…it’s a step up. the weather isn’t much better but still………
i can’t wait till im on cnn for this. all i gotta do is tie in the recent schooll shooting and i got the trifecta….

i’ve met god

a few months ago at a work lunch meeting thing, they were talking to this  really strict jewish guy about pork, etc…and i wait for silence and say “ya know i’ve met god and he really doesn’t care what we eat….” and everyone just turns for a second then just turns back to their conversation.

getting furniture

so after my “date” friday….im getting furniture…..i can’t bring girls back to this place anymore….buy some comfortable furniture, some wine glasses and hire a maid.

people at work were saying “well, maybe she left early because she just doesn’t like you, maybe it has nothing to do with you not owning anything”. That hurts almost more.

The couch is so important in dating. You eat dinner, you come back to your place, you drink, sit on the couch next to each other, listen to music, and kiss. Or get slapped…..

I was all up on today but i think i might just hit up a local furniture chain and get everything there. Probably cheaper and can get some more original shit.

Like a pink velvet couch that got me so many women in memphis *wink*


So my plan worked. I saw her that evening, she said she didn’t have any plans, i suggest dinner. She tells Anne and i that she’s moving up north for the summer. This figures but i’m going to just try to enjoy what time i have with her…or something…
We walk to Juan’s, have a good meal, and she wants to go back to my place for drinks.

Lets just say i need to get furniture….. seriously like it’s been fun not owning anything but i need to move and get some shit.

It’s weird how you can have a crush on someone based on first impression and looks but then that 2nd time you talk to them you start to find similarities. Thats when it gets bad. It was somewhere around when we started talking about tori is when i realized i need to be careful and not fuck this up.

Oh well. If she’s gone for a few months, so what……problem is since this is my life she’ll go home for a few months and meet someone she’s never met before, fall in love and forget all about toad and his furnitureless ass.

It’s not that i’m a pessimist, nothing ever works out.

Oh well. About to go meet with a non for profit to build them a site. Lets hope i can tip the karma scales. I don’t even know if i want to tell this guy why im building him a site for free. Like i know someone is going to call him and ask him if i did work for him. I just don’t know how they’ll introduce themselves…..hehehe.

There isn’t a problem in my life i can’t develop, design and host my way out of.