Category: horror

Physical Attraction

Sunday morning and Sparky let me sleep later this morning than he did yesterday, but I think I might have been better off going back to bed yesterday morning instead of staying up. I felt worn out and exhausted all day, with little to no motivation to do much of anything. I didn’t write any fiction yesterday, but I did get my latest newsletter, about the Rick Brant science mysteries and loving Egypt, out, so that’s an accomplishment, right? I also read some–read several chapters of Love in the Afternoon and Evening, and a couple of chapters of The Last House on Needless Street, which is a pleasure to read–and watched some news and some World War II short documentaries on Youtube (I got sucked into one on Midway, and then I was down the wormhole: Stalingrad, Battle of the Bulge, Normandy, and so forth). I needed a down day, methinks, because I feel really good this morning. Listen to your body, Gregalicious, which you most definitely did NOT do yesterday morning. I also didn’t do much organizing or cleaning or anything, either. Like I said, I was just low energy most of the day.

Which I guess I needed to be.

We also started The Vampire Lestat, and my God, is it wonderful. I already enjoyed Sam Reid as Lestat from Louis’ point of view in Interview with the Vampire, but my God, does he ever embody Anne Rice’s Brat Prince to perfection in this. Visually and stylistically it’s impressive and over the top and everything Mrs. Rice could have ever wanted for her characters. The story is compelling, driven so strongly by Sam Reid’s Lestat that I didn’t have the same reaction I initially did when reading the books–switching to Lestat’s point of view was jarring; my mentality was “the entire first book was about how much of an asshole he is, and now you’re making him the hero of the series?” But I kept reading the series–I never read any of the new books after she returned to the characters after a few years of a break, and maybe someday I will, like when I have a lengthy vacation where I can just read–like Acapulco. But we’re loving this season, and I am delighted that next season will be The Queen of the Damned, which was what turned her into an international best seller. I joined the series when there were just the three, and I read them all on a trip to Honolulu before the fourth came out–which was one of my favorites of the series. (I have to say, though, that my favorite Rice novel, The Witching Hour, was extremely disappointing as a series.)

We were going to go see Spider-Man today, but when I checked the theaters, there weren’t many seats left, and I told Paul last night that I didn’t think I’d be up to being around a lot of strangers today–the lobby will be packed as well as the cinema itself–and we decided to wait until next weekend, or my birthday, which is two weeks from Thursday, I think, when I turn sixty-five. That was quite the run-on sentence, wasn’t it? We are going to have to go out today–theory is that it’s supposed to be cooler today after the rain passes, and it looks like it has…at least for now, anyway. I think I may even go read for a bit once I post this, and should read until the rain is completely past, which, per the local news, will be around noon–there was just now a bit of thunder in the distance, so that’s probably on its way here now. I honestly don’t know what kind of day I am going to have, so I am not going to hope for any outcomes and see how the cards fall for the day. (We need to go pick up Paul’s new glasses at Costco, which is really where I should get my new ones…hmmm.)

And on that note, I am going to get something to eat and will head into the living room for a bit to do some reading. So, have a great day, my friends, and I’ll be back in the morning.

How old is this picture? I wouldn’t have thought anything about it until I noticed his computer looks like an iMac from around the turn of the century. Maybe he is into antiques?

Love Without Words

Saturday, August 1, and coniglio! Coniglio!

Let’s see if that works; it did for Trixie Belden in The Mystery of the Emeralds.

It’s Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment. Sparky got me up before seven this morning–His Majesty was HUNGRY–and I decided to get up and feed him. Once I was out of the bed, I decided to get cleaned up and get going on my day. Yesterday sucked–I won’t go into the details, but suffice it to say the a/c in my car still isn’t working and I need to take it to another place first because some “body work” needs to be done, and it really doesn’t sound cheap–but I am shaking it off today. I’ve never had to spend much money on this car since buying it and it’s been about ten years. So, let it go, I can’t do anything about it until Monday, anyway, and why let that spoil my weekend when I have free time, I still feel good, and tomorrow we’re going to go see the new Spider-Man movie. So, lots to look forward to, and today I am going to try to get some stuff done around here. I need to order groceries for delivery (too hot to drive there and back), and I need to get the house back under control again. It’s not that bad, but the last couple of days I’ve let things slide a bit. I did read some of my book yesterday, and it’s really fantastic. We caught this week’s Sugar, and I think tonight we’ll dive into The Vampire Lestat.

I also have those Emily Wilson translations to dip into, as well. And a newsletter to get out, but them not going out consistently has been an issue from the first, and I do suspect the only person I am actually disappointing with any of this is me, you know? But they are fun to write, and while I do forget things I wanted to say in them from time to time, and I don’t proof them as thoroughly as I should before they go out, but I am also not going to get anxious or stressed about them. Paul is going to work with his trainer today and then is going to ride the bike at the gym, so I should have the entire afternoon to myself for downtime, reading and writing and more cleaning. Why is there always more cleaning to do? Heavy heaving sigh. I did decide to treat myself to a long birthday weekend this month, so I have my birthday and the Friday after to accept that I am officially elderly. It doesn’t bother me (much); it’s more shocking to me that I made it this far, with so much stacked against me. Making it to 65 as a gay man in this country was no small accomplishment, but honestly? Pure damn luck. I made it through the HIV pandemic without getting infected–miracle of miracles, especially when it seemed so damned unlikely any of us would make it through with anything other than PTSD and guilt. (The guilt has always been tough for me to deal with–why me? Why did so many wonderful and talented and brilliant people die? And yes, I’ve been thinking about this since the circus the other day with Dr. Fauci, whose true crime to conservatives is that he helped stop gay men from dying.)

Maybe I do see homophobia everywhere, but you know what? That’s what it almost always is–enough times that it’s not a surprise when that does turn out to be the case.

It also pleases me to no end to see Tom Holland and Zendaya starring in the two biggest movies of the summer. I’ve always liked her, and of course, his lip-sync to Rihanna made me a life long fan of our short king. He is also one of the rare examples of a child star who grew up into a successful and always working adult actor/star.

I was also amused to see the Department of Justice and that pig Jeannine Pirro had to drop charges against “reflecting pool vandals” when it turned out to be a result of shoddy installation on a (surprise!) a no-bid contract for one of the Harkonnens’ friends? Everything the Baron said about the reflecting pool was a lie (as everyone with a brain and one working eye could see), and his minions jumped in line–against all reason, against all sanity, and above all else, against the Constitution–to snap to his insane logic and mentality and excuses. His supporters should never be allowed in public again without being shamed for the bootlicking quislings they are. (I laugh every time they call him “Daddy”–showing they are all fucking betas and will roll over, ass end up in the air ready for his penetration) Karoline Leavitt and Jeannine Pirro will go on to jobs at Fox, next to Sophie “Maga Skipper” (Barbie would never) Cunningham.

And when this is finally all over? Watch the centrist Dems try to close the book and “move on.” We saw this after the Bush Crime Syndicate left office in 2009, and way back when the Republicans sold out southern Blacks for political power. (They haven’t changed from what they became under Grant.)

What this country has allowed itself to become makes me appreciate that I am old, and I do not ever wish I were younger. Ever. And I wouldn’t go back in time even if I could.

And on that note, I am going to get some more coffee and take my book over to my easy chair. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.

I’ve always loved stained glass. I played with it as a hobby in my twenties, but could never ever dream of doing something so artistic.

Love Sensation

Monday and back to the office with me, lickety-split and all that nonsense. I feel good and rested this morning, if having a bit of a slow start to the day, but once the coffee starts kicking in I should be fine. Here’s hoping for a lovely week. The coffee is quite good; one of the chores I did yesterday was descaling and cleaning the Keurig, which was very overdue. I did quite a bit yesterday, given how much time I spent sitting in my easy chair, chilling out. But I got some work done on the floors, organized the refrigerator and freezer to optimize space, and now probably this coming weekend I will work on the kitchen cabinets and the laundry room and my workspace. It was lovely coming downstairs to a clean kitchen this morning, and also kind of relaxing. I have some errands to do, and am wondering about getting them handled today on the way home from work tonight. We’re in both a heat advisory and an extreme heat watch, with the “feels like” in the high hundred and teens. YIKES!!! The car is going to feel amazing when I get in it after work this afternoon….yay.

Yesterday was a very lovely day–it’s so lovely to enjoy weekends free from stress about the gazillion emails waiting in my inbox, you have no idea–and I did some vastly overdue chores and organizing, while watching television and doing some writing. (So many people think I’ll be bored when I finally retire from the day job. Hardly. Not so long as I can read, watch, and type, darlin’.) I got caught up on the news–Ukraine continues to embarrass and wreck the Russian economy and war effort, and it’s just a matter of time before Putin falls, isn’t it? I am very pleased with how the weekend went, and I feel so completely rested this morning, it’s kind of wild, you know?

House of the Dragon is so much better this season than the previous ones, and I have to say I am glad I went back and gave this season a second chance after that terrible season opener. Finally things are happening instead of the conspiring–not good, especially given Game of Thrones–but I still don’t care who winds up on the Iron Throne, and given it’s Westeros, my guess is none of these contenders that we are seeing will win anything. Royal family feuds inevitably and historically weaken dynasties–so is it such a wonder that the Targaryens fell, and this was how it all started? I just wish the first two seasons hadn’t been quite so slow with all the set-up.

Started rereading Celebrity yesterday, and picked out my next reads–picked out a novel I don’t know how I acquired–and it entirely possible I confused this author with someone else (it’s happened before, and will happen again). Regardless, the first three paragraphs of The Last House on Needless Street sucked me right in AND triggered my creativity, so am looking forward to getting deeper into my read. It seems like one of those fabulous “creepy house down the street in a small town, which I love (We Have Always Lived in the Castle is the ur-novel of this subgenre), so we shall see how that goes. L.A. Noir will be my nonfiction; it’s also research, after all. I also must make a list of research necessary for the next Scotty, so I can get started doing that. I also want to finish this chapter of Chlorine before working on some short stories. I also am thinking again about The Last Picture Show and writing an essay about its depiction of masculinity and male sexuality, which would also require a revisit.

Still digesting Rough Pages, which was so engrossing and smart, with so much to say. I wish I had gone deeper into the importance of queer books, which is the book’s overlying theme, in my newsletter recommending the book to my subscribers. We have so many amazing queer crime writers these days, it’s hard keeping up with them all.

We also started watching Ride or Die, and seriously–can we have Hannah Waddingham and Octavia Spencer in everything, seriously? This show is incredible, and both women are fantastic in their roles. Why haven’t we seen Waddingham as an action/adventure star before? She is a goddess, and the way she lights up the screen is amazing. Highly recommend this one, seriously.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely, lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning, bright and early.

Gorgeous out bisexual actor Francois Arnaud for Under Armour. Damn! You see why I’ve been a fan since The Borgias.

Danceteria

And here I am, on Monday morning again, yawning and swilling coffee before I get ready for work. We’re busy this week, so I am going to be drained and tired when I come home from work every day this week. That’s fine, really. I had a most lovely weekend to begin with. I spent a lot of time just resting and relaxing, but I did get some things done. I’m not used to having so little hanging over my head that I have this much free time, and I have to say that I kind of love having time to just decompress and chill while still being able to get some things done.

We’re in a heat advisory again, and there’s a storm forming in the gulf–Bertha–projected to most likely come this way and pass over New Orleans, but it’s potential for strengthening beyond tropical storm (still not something to sneeze at, just means we don’t have to evacuate) is not very strong and we should start feeling effects of this on Tuesday, supposedly. This means we’ll probably get heavy rains this week, possible flooding, and the potentiality of losing power. I also need to check out what’s going on with the fecal infected vegetable products as I need to stop at the store and make some groceries on the way home; although I did see the FDA was coerced into walking back blaming Taylor Farms for this round of cyclospora. Thanks again, RFK and DOGE. Are we healthy again yet?

Sherlock Holmes, of all people, was on my mind this weekend for some reason I am not certain of; I think I was offered a ridiculously low ebook price for The Hound of the Baskervilles. I know I want to write an essay about not being a Sherlockian; I’ve always felt my lack of appreciation for Holmes was something shameful for someone who identifies primarily as a crime writer. When I wrote that historical story about a New Orleans-based Sherlock in 1916, I did read some of the short stories I hadn’t read before and enjoyed them, and Sherlock dances back into my head every once in a while, primarily because I’d like to revisit that time and write about it more. But does it have to be a Sherlock story? Why can’t I have a New Orleans-based world’s greatest detective? It’s an interesting time period, as Storyville still existed as did anti-Italian prejudice aka they’re all Mafia, where they lived in the lower Quarter. There are also all kinds of interesting cases in New Orleans history that could also go back to that time, too. I don’t feel like I know enough about Holmes to write more about him as a 1916 New Orleanian with a desire for male flesh….I also like the idea of writing about New Orleans when it was primarily accessible only by water. The 1915 hurricane after-effects would also be interesting to write about, especially since both St. Malo and Freniere were wiped off the map. I already have a Sherlock short story idea having to do with Freniere–but I’ve held off on writing it because I need to decide whether to base my character on Sherlock, and continue with him as I have already adapted him.

I also wonder if I should be writing about Sherlock.

Since Lisa Morton will occasionally urge me to write more horror (which is incredibly sweet, encouraging and supportive all at the same time) so I have been thinking about horror more these last few weeks or so. I have an idea for a horror novel that I am toying with currently, which could be a lot of fun to write–horror always is–but like the Sherlock thing, I’m not sure I have the background knowledge or the necessary steeping in the genre that I should have…then again, I always am very quick to point out my lack of formative knowledge in the crime genre (see: Sherlock Holmes), too, but I write it anyway. Horror always, surprisingly enough, turns my mind towards Alabama and the Florida panhandle and the Sierra Nevada mountains. I also came up with the opening for a new series I am interested in tackling this weekend, too…

I did work some on the book as well as a couple of short stories…and I also thought a lot about the next Scotty and what to make it about. I was going to go with January before parades start, with it opening as the boys watch the Krewe de Vieux parade pass beneath their balcony, but then I remembered the S&WB project that has the streets in the Quarter all torn up and thought, well, I’d need to look into the construction work and then started thinking about October/November; something to do with Halloween as the title anchor, and Hijinks as the third word, but I need something to go in between; I can’t use season because I just used that…maybe Halloween Pumpkin Hijinks? Maybe candy? Sigh.

I also hate that the World Cup is over and everyone is going home…but at least Spain beat Argentina (ETTD).

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back again tomorrow.

Erling Halaand, my World Cup crush

Lift ‘Em on Up

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment, and I did stay in bed later this morning on purpose because it imply fet so marvelous. I had a small replacement fan delivered yesterday afternoon, and it ran all night and I didn’t wake up once, instead going into an incredibly deep and restful sleep for nearly ten hours! Yesterday was kind of a nice, low energy day around here. Paul is back to working with his trainer and going to the gym again, and so he was gone most of the afternoon. I slept later yesterday, and had a bit of a sleep hangover; I was back to feeling rested and not tired, but my batteries were a bit low. I ordered some things to have delivered, and picked up and organized whenever Sparky wasn’t insistent on my lap for hugs and cuddles and naps, which was also nice. Relaxing is always important for both physical and mental health, and my stamina is getting better. I did get a fan delivered yesterday, to make sure I had both the breeze and noise while sleeping last night. I didn’t read any of my book, but I read some of my work in progress, which counts, doesn’t it? I think this morning I’ll read some of the book I’m reading, which I am enjoying. It’s nice to wake up feeling rested and good.

I’m also late with the newsletters, which I am blaming on being “off” all week. I did do some writing this past week, but not much, and I am definitely behind on everything I am working on. It’s a shame that the response I am writing to that little gatekeeping shit who wrote that op-ed for the New York Slimes recently, trying to restrict the community to those he feels “truly belong” as opposed to, how did he say it? Straight kids trying to be cool? I was very angry when I started writing it, but am glad I waited and let it sit, so I can be very cold and factual as I dismantle his bigoted (and hardly Christian) argument.

Honestly, I had no interest in seeing The Odyssey , and it had nothing to do with it being “woke.” (Which didn’t seem to hurt its opening weekend ticket sales). It’s more along the lines that I’ve always thought Odysseus was kind of a dick; Greek “heroes” aren’t really heroic in the modern sense (the Hero’s Journey is the protagonist’s journey, just like romance originally meant something different than it does now, as did mystery); which always confused me when I was fascinated by the Trojan War (I’ve always wanted to write about Troy) and Greek mythology. Heracles was most certainly not a hero in the sense that the modern American definition thinks of as heroic–and while some of his monstrous behavior could be excused away as acts of the gods, not all of them were because of Hera or some other Olympian with a grudge. (I’ve also wanted to write about Heracles since I was a kid.)

Since I was on low-energy mode yesterday, we did watch Sugar, and a couple of episodes of Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, which really needs to ditch the soapy time travel melodrama of the cast of characters and more on the monsters, which is why we are watching. Godzilla finally has shown up–it’s funny how these same monsters traumatized me as a child, watching Creature Features on the television, giving me bad dreams for weeks after seeing one, and now I love them–which was vastly overdue. The problem with the focus on the melodrama always makes me zone out a bit, which means I miss key things about the monsters by the same team who are also studying the monsters and predicting patterns of behavior and movement–and also where they come from, hence the time travel melodrama. Sugar? No notes. Colin Farrell is fantastic, and the show is well done and well written and extremely clever.

I have to order some things for delivery today or tomorrow; I haven’t decided. I ordered things yesterday so I didn’t have to leave the house, since we were in a d (“feels like 110!”) so I decided going to the gate to get things or out to the trash to dump garbage and the recycling was enough; the sun glaring off my windshield was blinding and I don’t want to think about how hot the car is on the inside. We’re in another heat advisory today, with the ‘feels like’ at about 112, hence ordering for delivery yet again.

The times in which we live, where Taco Bell has replaced the CDC and Waffle House the National Weather Service. Had someone told me this would be my senior years when I was even middle-aged I would have laughed so hard. An anti-vaxxer in charge of public health and food safety? Let’s remember, the agencies that would have worked on these things were gutted by DOGE, Elon, and his ketamine fueled college-age boys? Where are those little shits now? I know they aren’t behind bars where they belong.

There are two tropical messes trying to form in the upper Gulf, just off the coast, and it will of course affect us with some rain and possible flooding from Tuesday through the next weekend. Heavy sigh–but I am looking forward to the thunderstorm.

Pity about the Tates being arrested for raping and trafficking children. Hope they enjoy dying in prison.

And on that cheerful note–I approve of predators being arrested–I am going to get another cup of coffee and head into the living room to read for a bit before getting cleaned up and heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will be here again tomorrow morning. Till then!

This artwork is “The Tree of Forgiveness” (1881–1882) by English Pre-Raphaelite painter Sir Edward Burne-Jones. The painting depicts a scene from classical mythology, specifically the legend of Phyllis and Demophoön.
It illustrates the moment Phyllis, transformed into an almond tree, emerges from the bark to embrace her lover, Demophoön, who has returned filled with remorse. (If you ask me, he looks terrified and like he’s trying to escape. Maybe that’s the myth?)

Too Long a Soldier

My word, I was tired yesterday when I got home from the work day, so much so that all I could do was basically eat something and collapse into my chair. I don’t know why I was so tired, but I was. It was a nice day, actually; informative and saw some people I don’t see very often. I also got a service plaque or twenty-one years on the job, which is kind of staggering–and something I should talk about at some point, I guess. I just like to try to keep my separate lives from overlapping. It’s kind of ironic that I circled back around to having two distinct and separate lives again; who’d have thunk it? But I keep the two lives–day job and public–apart as much as I possibly can. I also have my private life, which I don’t really share much of–probably more than I think, but much less than twenty-odd years ago when this–the blog–began. Ironically, I started keeping this blog about two weeks before I started the day job, so the two are also kind of linked in my mind.

Paul even did the bedding yesterday, so I wouldn’t have to. I ordered a pizza for dinner because I didn’t have the energy or bandwidth to look through the cupboards and the refrigerator to throw something together.

As an example of how tired and worn out I was yesterday, I slept about ten hours last night, and could have stayed in bed longer had I not opened my eyes and seen the time. I feel better now that my coffee is kicking in, but today was questionable when I first got out of bed! My fan broke earlier this week–Paul said he’s been having trouble sleeping as well last night, and I think we both subconsciously miss the sound of my little fan. That, of course, will be remedied today. I think I’m going to buy one; once I am completely awake I think I’ll do a mail and grocery run–and they have fans at the grocery stores here. The heat has been insane–it was 98 when I drove home from Dillard yesterday (!!!) and humid as all fuck. Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Do it before noon before it gets really hot (!!!), get home and get cleaned up and do chores and read and organize and do other things as the mood strikes. I did figure out Chapter 4 of the book last night, despite the exhaustion, so that’s a good thing. I also intended to load the dishwasher before bed last night and I didn’t do that, either. Since the theme of this week was tired, I didn’t keep up with the chores as well as I did the previous two weeks, and so there is more for me to do this morning/afternoon.

I don’t even want to look at the news this morning. Talk about exhausting. I think I may go back to the old “no news is good news on the weekends) mentality I used to have back in the day; we all need to take breaks from the madness from time to time for the sack of our mental health, you know?

I think that could have also had something to do with why I’ve been having trouble sleeping this week, too–the fucking news. It’s always an assault on decency and humanity and everything that is good in this world, as the country burns to the ground and the world continues to shed its reliance on the United States–which is, actually, a good thing for everyone concerned, because it’s showing we the people that the world can get along fine without us. Look at Ukraine’s success battling Russian since they stopped sharing intelligence with us! NATO and Ukraine are showing Europe–and Russia–that they don’t need our support or assistance.

So much for that hideous and horribly ugly American trope of you have to back us or you’ll be speaking Russian before you know it that has existed since August 1945. How many markets have we lost now, because we elected a cowardly bully with a brain that has never worked properly?

Okay, enough of that. I do not want to go down that dark mental path today. And on that note, I am going to get some more coffee and have some breakfast while I read for a bit. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow!

Not a fan of the facial grooming look–ugh, mirrored sunglasses–but the body is nice.

Out a Touch

Tuesday morning, after a busy and overcast Monday. I had to do my bimonthly injection yesterday morning, which went without a hitch, and this time I wouldn’t have even remembered it was coming up if I hadn’t seen my specialist last week. (This is good news, because this was the first time since starting doing this last August that I couldn’t tell about two weeks ahead of time that it was coming due. Huzzah!) It’s nice to know that I can manage the chronic illness I have to live with until I die. I slept decently; very relaxing and restful, but I kept waking up every now and then. I also wasn’t terribly hungry yesterday after the injection, either, but don’t know if those two things are related. We were busy yesterday in the clinic, too, and will be again today before two light days and a slide into a long weekend, which will be lovely.

I forgot to mention that we also watched that documentary, Maternal Instinct, over the weekend and can I just say, what a horrible bunch of people on every level! Everyone involved was essentially a piece of shit. (All I could think about while watching was how conservatives always paint small town/farm country life as “real America“–as opposed to, you know, the urban dwellers who actually drive the engine of the economy? Remember Joe Sixpack and Joe the Plumber and other “real Americans” Sarah Palin and her ilk pushed on us relentlessly? Fuck off now and forever. You just know who everyone in that documentary voted for–you can smell it through the television.) The young woman was a narcissistic psychopath with an unhinged grip on reality. Everyone who enabled her cons–the greedy boyfriend who saw dollar signs, his friends, his mother–are all at least partly responsible for the murder of that poor young woman and her baby. They went along with everything, even past when they knew better, because they thought there would eventually be a pay off, even as that possibility became more and more remote. Horrible, really. (Small towns and rural areas are a lot more like Peyton Place than anyone ever wants to admit. Grace Metalious was right, and she’s still right.)

I was also enormously disappointed to see the San Francisco Giants, of all the MLB teams, welcomed homophobia into the dugout for Pride Night. Speaking of right-wing bullshit, am I right? Oooh, those poor big men who get paid a shit ton of money to play a children’s game had their little delicate masculine he-man fee-fees hurt, and anyone who believes that had anything to do with Christianity is literally too stupid to engage with. It’s pretty sad that we look up to athletes as role models in the first place when so many of them clearly aren’t (Carter Hart, anyone?), but it’s hilarious to me how many men’s masculinity is so fragile and weak that it turns toxic, like those four needle-dicks who’ve never brought a woman to orgasm and never will and moreover, wouldn’t care. We learned a lot about the Giants organization and their players on Pride Night, and as far as I am concerned I hope they never win a pennant ever again. The team condoned it, so everyone from the owners to the batboys are complicit in homophobia. Nice look for a team that represents SAN FUCKING FRANCISCO.1

Remind me why Pride isn’t necessary anymore?

I was also highly amused to see that Hollywood is doing what it always does: missing the point while trying to squeeze every last penny possible out of a trend. The enormous success of Heated Rivalry was a huge surprise to them all–and it wouldn’t have been what it was had an American network been involved…they’re so afraid of gay sexuality and sensuality they would have turned Shane into a side piece and Ilya would end up with a woman…and his relationship with women would gotten a lot more air time. So what lesson did Hollywood learn from the gay hockey show? People want more hockey romance! Hockey is the key! So, instead of more gay romances, we’re getting a shit ton of straight ones about hockey. And if the new straight hockey romances (which won’t have any of the sexual assaults and misogyny straight hockey players are known for–I’ve not forgotten the US Olympic Men’s Team’s shenanigans, have you?) fail? They’ll consider Heated Rivalry an outlier.

Juneteenth is this weekend, and it’s more than just another federal holiday. I guarantee every white racist bitching and whining about it plans to not take the day off with pay and is going to work all day, right? If you take the day off with pay you’ve surrendered your right to complain about it. See how that works? You’re free to not participate. Do some heavy labor, that’ll teach the wokesters!

Honestly, the decline and fall of the American empire is so deserved.

I did do some writing yesterday, so hurray for that, and I hope to get some done this evening as well. I need to do some chores, though, before I can chill out for the evening.

And on that note, tis off to the spice mines for me. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and here’s hoping it includes tacos! See you tomorrow!

  1. The funniest thing to me is straight white male homophobes, always so scared a gay man might actually, hit on them or something, are inevitably the ugliest unfuckable things you’ll ever see–and you know they don’t wash their ass. Dream on, bitches. ↩︎

Promises in the Dark

Monday and back to the office with me today. Friday is a holiday, which is lovely, and the next two weeks are short ones for me, too.

I think we’re going to be busy in the clinic this week and short-handed, but it’s a four day week with a lovely holiday on Friday. Yesterday was nice and relaxing. I wrote a bit, read a bit, and cleaned up a bit. I made my mash-up Swedish meatballs stroganoff, and this batch turned out well–even though I forgot to put shallots in the sauce or garnish with diced green onions. I also used the Maldon salt and beef bone broth, too, which also kicked in the flavor even more. They will make wonderful leftovers for work today, too. They always taste better the second day. Lucky me! I also slept well, and feel rested an ready for a new work week. Huzzah? My coffee is good, and on the way home from work tonight I have to get a few things at the grocery store. The car has a full tank so I don’t need to worry about gas until I leave next week. We are pretty well-stocked over all, and of course, I get paid again on Wednesday.

I published another newsletter, about The Rocky Horror Picture Show, which you can read by clicking right here. I have a few more entries to do this month, and I am thinking about writing one to close out the month that will help lead into more essays about masculinity and being a sexual suspect in these United States. According to the weather report, we are supposed to be inundated with rain this morning, and the rest of the day is going to be cloudy and overcast. I took out the trash last night, and gasped when I went outside, the air was so damned thick and damp and hot and heavy. We also binged the second season of Running Point, which is kind of Ted Lasso-like if the show primarily focused on Rebecca, and we really enjoyed it. We also watched this week’s episode of Cape Fear, which is very well-cast and very well done. I’m not really sure where this all is going–it’s not the plot I remember from the book or the movies, but my memory isn’t the best, but so far it seems like the only similarities is the wife is a lawyer who convicted Max Cady (instead of the husband) and they have a son as well as the daughter. Juliette Lewis popped in for this most recent episode, which was, honestly, a nice touch.

I’m not loving the show, though. It’s shot very well, the actors are stellar, but…it’s not gripping me the way a thriller should, but maybe it’s because it’s a slow-burn? I’ll keep watching, of course, for the cast and the production values but they need to get this train moving soon.

I also wrote some this weekend. I started two more projects–just to get them out of my mind–and made some progress on some short stories I am working on. It’s nice, so very nice, to be into creating and writing again. This is what I love–not the conventions or book signings or promotion or any of the marketing side of being a writer; but maybe that will change with the anxiety finally under control. I also think I’m doing good work; I’m trying to write in the present tense more than the past, which is my comfort zone and my default; I always have to go back and correct the tenses.

I feel good this morning, too. It’s going to be a good week, at least it already feels like a good one.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader!

Evil Genius

Sunday morning, and how are you doing this morning, Constant Reader? Yesterday was actually quite a lovely day, and yes, I did manage to get quite a bit accomplished. I got up a little later than usual, did some chores around the house in the morning, got cleaned up and ran errands. I bought gas at Harmony Circle; $3.79 per gallon (and how sad is it that was a relief? Sure, it was all “economic anxiety.” Bitch, please.), bought more pens at Office Depot, picked up the dry cleaning before heading uptown to get the mail, and then swung by to make groceries. I also ordered things for delivery, so we are now all stocked up for quite a while, at least. I was exhausted when I got home; the heat and humidity were incredibly oppressive. Yes, I know where I live, but this was more like late August in the peak of the dog days of summer rather than mid-June. That heat just sucks the life and energy right out of you the way cold weather can drain a car battery. But it felt good to feel good and get all of that done, and it really didn’t take terribly long, either.

I also spent, all told, nearly three hundred dollars on groceries over four stores. Seriously.

Fuck everyone who didn’t vote for the weird laugh lady. Seriously. Now and forever.

But it was a good day. We had a marvelous rainstorm yesterday afternoon, and I cooked out once it was over. I also had a delicious slice of Creole tomato on my bacon cheeseburger; I pity everyone who doesn’t have easy access to them during the season. I did get some cleaning done in the kitchen, but not nearly enough so I will have to spend some time working on that today. But I feel great about the weekend and I feel great about the work I’m doing, too. It feels weird because I also have free time at the same time I’m writing, which is something I’m not used to.

I also kind of just let my mind wander free and I wound up starting this horrible little short story called “The Itsy-Bitsy Spider.” I don’t know where it came from, but I’d had the title in my head for a few days for some reason (I honestly don’t know, but my brain skitters around in an almost constant free flowing stream of consciousness that flashes by so quickly I often don’t remember where the thoughts that stick come from) and scribbled the title down. I saw it again yesterday, heard the nursery rhyme in my head, and had the most twisted thought…so I started writing it. I also realized that perhaps the reason I’ve never had much success as a horror writer is because I am afraid to let my mind go and be as freaky and wild as it can possibly get. (I’ve been wanting to write more horror lately, and…I have the time now, so why not?) I also spent a lot of time wanting to be a horror writer in my twenties; my first three young adult novels were horror of a sort, and I did write those in the early 1990s.

Today’s Washington weather looks pretty amazing, actually, he typed with a smirk on his face. No rain for us today, but we’ll get some thunderstorms tomorrow. Today I need to do some writing and reading, and cleaning for sure. I want to make Swedish meatballs for dinner; and that’s going to make a mess for sure. Since Creole tomatoes are back in season, I had one of my marvelous grilled cheese yesterday–with a diced slice of tomato, some bacon, and guacamole, using Maldon garlic salt for seasoning. My God, was that thing delicious. We also got all the way caught up on Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, which is actually quite good; Tatiana Maslany slays, as always, in the lead.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Hope your Sunday is as marvelous as you, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow, bright and early, as I return to the office. And of course, Happy Pride to everyone.

The majesty of Yosemite

Fire and Ice

Work-at-home Friday! Yesterday wasn’t a terrible day, to be honest. I was more low energy than I would have preferred, but I did still manage to get things done, which was so lovely! I picked up a prescription on the way home, and a couple of books I’d ordered, and was home by a fairly decent time. I do have some work to do today, of course, and there’s always cleaning and laundry to get done. But I made progress, you know? I didn’t read or write because I wanted to let my mind rest up for the weekend. Paul was worn out from his physical therapy yesterday, and by the time I got home was ready to lay down and elevate his knee. He’s doing great, which is most pleasing to me, and I’m looking forward to a pretty chill but productive weekend.

I’m pretty proud of myself for mostly sticking to my guns and not impulsively buying books all the time. More books have gone out of the house than have come in this year, so that’s a big win, I think. The books I picked up were Down Cemetery Road by Mick Herron; Language as Liberation by Toni Morrison1; and Stephen King’s Never Flinch. I am years behind on King–so far behind that I don’t know that I can ever catch up, but I do love the character of Holly Gibney. I also would like to get deep into reading Rough Pages by Lev AC Rosen (I opened his newest to the front page last night and was utterly charmed; he’s so talented!) and make some headway into a reread of Celebrity.

I also spent some time enjoying watching highlights of the Knicks’ incredible comeback win the other night (I was sound asleep by the time the game ended) and I am really pulling for the Knicks to pull this off, you know? I have always loved New York, and I do love seeing people’s joy being expressed. They booed Baron Harkonnen the other night resoundingly; their mayor is amazing and going to be legendary; and overall, New York just seems to be riding high right now–as opposed to how the country is being run. How can you not root for them if you aren’t a Spurs fan?2

There’s a big blob of tropical mess out in the Gulf right now that is heading for the coastline. I keep seeing its remnants of a named storm (Cristina? BRING ME THE AX!), but I hadn’t been aware there had already been two named ones already. It’s supposed to get here Monday and sending us torrential downpours, thunder and lightning, and street flooding. That means probably excessive heat and humidity for us here in New Orleans until it gets here. Another good reason to leave the house as little as possible and stay inside all weekend. I’ll prune the books some more this weekend, but there’s no need for me to take them to the library sale. Next weekend is the Juneteenth holiday weekend, and of course I will be in Alabama the following weekend, and then its the 4th of July weekend…maybe I won’t prune the books just yet.

And on that note, I think I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I will be back here again tomorrow morning. Till then!

  1. I’ve read quite a bit of Dr. Morrison’s fiction, but I really do want to read some of her nonfiction takes on the American literary canon and it’s overwhelming whiteness. ↩︎
  2. And yes, everything he touches does die. He went to the LSU-Alabama game in 2019, only to see Alabama lose at home for the first time in four years. But if there’s even the slightest possibility he can make the sporting event about him…. ↩︎