Saturday, March 31, 2007
My friends ask me, "What are 'they' like? How did 'they' get there?"
'They' are just like you and I, folks. Some have jobs, some go to work. They might have had a string of bad luck; medical bills they can't pay, depression, or right now, they were dealt a bad hand. Maybe they don't have a support network. I don't know. As volunteers, during the training, we're reminded not to ask. If people volunteer information, that's one thing, otherwise the volunteers are just there to make their night at the shelter pleasant.
I always leave the shelter saying to myself, "There but for the grace of God go I..." (And no, I'm not singing the disco version.....)
After dinner, for dessert, we usually serve ice cream. It's not Godiva creme de leche, it's not White Rose brand, it's just regular ice cream.
We eat together, and for a moment, while we're eating ice cream, we're all happy.
I know so many people who have so much, yet still want more; a bigger house, another car, a cuter boyfriend. When is it enough?
One guest, Sam, always thanks me for volunteering. Each time, he says the same thing. He gives me a big hug and says "You know, I used to work. I worked for 28 years, then they laid me off. You know what they say, from Park Avenue to park bench. Thank you for coming here, it really means a lot to me. From the bottom of my heart, I just want to say thank you."
I tell him, "Anytime...I'm sure you'd do the same for me."
I let him get away with that "bottom-of-my-heart" cliche...I can be nice....
Thursday, March 29, 2007
TROUPLE: Like a couple, but there's three of you. Get it?
Someone asked me recently, "Would you ever be in a TROUPLE?"
I rolled my eyes and said, "I already have a hard enough time finding ONE gay man who doesn't annoy me, what makes you think I'm going to find TWO?"
He was all pissy, "You know what? That's your problem. EVERYONE annoys you. You're too harsh....I never know what to say to you! I'm always afraid that I'm going to say something that annoys you...."
I looked at him and said, "Well, YOU should be afraid....most of the things you say are stupid."
"Well, I never!" he squealed. He got up, threw his cloth napkin on the table and marched out of Swoon.
He's just a prissy, uptight Hudson bottom; there's really no hope for him.
Yeah, prissy uptight Hudson bottoms....that NARROWS the list down for you, right?
Anyway, I met my first TROUPLE at a party recently.
I was talking to this one cute boy, and he said, that he was now in a "Trouple".
He introduced me to his boyfriends; two lawyers, one was a real estate lawyer, and the other was some other type of boring lawyer.
They were in their forties, the cutie boy was in his twenties, he looked like he was 16...
The lawyers were obviously bored with each other after so many years together (I was bored with them after 5 minutes!), so they invited in a younger, cuter, third.
To the side, the cute boy confided in me (why, I don't know...) he said that he was always waiting for the second shoe to drop. They told him that the three-way relationship was all equal, but he was afraid it wasn't.
You know that if he was telling this to a stranger, then he thought about it a lot.
Now, I didn't want to break his little heart, so I nodded politely.
But inside, I was like, YEAH, DUH! You're doomed! You know what you're bringing to the table, cutie-pie. Don't quit the day job, babydoll....
Because, as we say in the porn biz, there's ALWAYS someone younger, cuter, and who'll work for less.
Why didn't the lawyers just hire an escort? Really? Call a spade a spade.
Now, they got some poor kid involved (although, I'm sure the kid's well taken care of). The problems of WHY the lawyers aren't happy with each other are still unresolved.
Twinkees aren't going to solve your problems for you, folks.
Sorry, I don't buy the whole "trouple" thing.
Can't we just leave trouples to the Mormons?
Mormonism - a great upstate invention!
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Time to do some Spring Cleaning. Get rid of all the shit you don't need.
Saturday - May 12th 2007
The opening of the Hudson Farmers Market will be augmented by The Second Annual Hudson "Out of the Closet" Sidewalk Sale!
Hudson Farmers Market
Hours 9AM – 1PM (every Saturday ‘til Nov. 17th)
Hudson “Out of the Closet” Sale
Hours TBA, but somewhere between
The Roosters Crow - when the cows come home.
Time to CLEAN HOUSE.
Like our seven stranded castaways, there was only one GAY man at Gay Day at Stray Bar last night, Tuesday.
BAD GAYS! NO CHARLES NELSON REILLY PICS FOR YOU!
Ok, folks....I was never a big fan of Tuesday night anyway, considering I'd probably never get there....
So, how about ANOTHER night...
What are your thoughts?
I DEMAND A MINIMUM OF TEN COMMENTS on this issue, from different people!
(I know who it is)
Until I get ten Comments on this post regarding gay Stray night, I WILL NOT, repeat, WILL NOT put up another Charles Nelson Reilly Photo!
....and I found more last night. I will HOLD them hostage! Like this one.
Ruminate on this:
Sydney fell asleep one night and dreamt he was plucking a chicken. When he woke up, his BLANK was bald.
I was walking down Warren Street this fine lovely day, and a COUPLE, two gay men, approached me and asked me to come back to their place and have sex with them.
What should I do?
---Confused in Claverack
RUN THE OTHER WAY! It's not worth it, babydoll....
Yes, sex with a COUPLE sounds like fun, and in some instances can be, but most of the time, it's NOT. ESPECIALLY, if you're going to have sex with them in THEIR home in THEIR bed.
You think I was kidding about the harsh lighting at the Walmart? It's about environment.
It usually ends up badly; they're fighting with each other and you're there, naked, drumming your fingers along the bedpost listening to them to sort out their relationship.
Or, they're fighting, and you're gathering up your clothes, feeling like a used-up whore, trying not to forget anything, because you know you don't want to talk to them again for ANY reason....
Or, if they're not fighting at the time, they will be, as soon as you leave.
Very rarely does sex with a couple work out. The couple needs to be very secure in their relationship.
Or, if the "couple" is two hot lesbians going at it, and you're an out-of-shape straight guy, then YES, it totally works out. Because, we all know, lesbians LOVE dick, especially dick on a straight guy who just happens to be caught "watching"....
Back to my point -- sex, whether we like to admit it or not, involves emotions. And sex with a couple involves YEARS of emotions - BOOM - all at once; jealously, happiness, bitterness, angst.
If the couple wants to have sex with another, they should either go to a sex club, or hire a prostitute. Remember, prostitution put this town on the map! And if the couple is "bored" with each other, then they need to sort their shit out.
Or, not be a couple.
"Confused", DON'T GET INVOLVED!
Run, babydoll, run.
PS - If you REALLY want to get multiple holes filled at once, call me....I got a suitcase o' dildos.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Here are the three top reasons I do NOT shop at the WalMart in Greenport:
1. Wal Mart is anti-Union, they pay their people shit, give shitty health care coverage WHILE it's the richest fucking company in the world.
2. The obscene amount of OBESE people.
3. The lighting is way too harsh.
Let's talk about reason number two today....
I have to preface this entire post with the fact that I'm all for the average Joe. As I matter of fact, I LOVE a guy with a little extra cushion for the pushin' !!
Give me a guy with a six pack of abs, and the first thought that comes into MY mind is:
"What's this one over-compensating for?"
BUT(T), there's a limit.
I like ass for DAYS, not ass for WEEKS or MONTHS.....
And there must be a decent ass to waist ratio. I'm sure there's a mathematical formula involving the cosine and tangent.
No, not THAT much...
So, when a friend of mine told me that he wants to take me to Albany to go out to the bars, my first response was,
"OK, but are they fat? Like, really fat?"
He said, "You're forgetting the realness factor."
...sigh...yes, I know....
A bar here in the East Village does Bear Night once a week. I went once. The place was packed! There were six people in the bar.
To each their own, it's just not for me.
When you need to lose the weight of Nicole Richie, then there's something else going on. There are issues...
I have friends/family who are overweight. I understand. I love them, I'm just not having sex with them.
If the obese guy REALLY wants to have sex with me....well, listen...I already do charity work.
Otherwise, just pay the going rate; and remember, no kissing, no fucking. Cash - in advance.
Babydoll, I got bills; like my two gym memberships and yoga classes.
Monday, March 26, 2007
OK, so speaking of keeping a buttplug in your ass all day long (wasn't I talking about that? kinda? If not, I am now....)
I have a Hudson friend, who this weekend, "forgot" to take off his metal cock ring from a party on Saturday night.
So, he just wore it around all day on Sunday....brunch, dry cleaning, grocery shopping, PTA meeting...
Just to keep a little spring in his step, and a little (ok, a big) bulge in his pants.
I want to know WHO has done something similar?
Let's hear from the LADIES out there, too! Have any of you gals kept the headlights on?
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Three times this month, I've been asked,
"What type of guy do you like?"
And I respond,
"The type that gets things done."
I get blank stares.
I throw them for a fucking loop, they have no idea what I'm talking about....
Because they THINK I'm going to say, in our Manhunt/dlist search-a-profile lifestyle:
"Twinks, total twinks..."
"Latinos, Italians, Arabs..."
"Top. I MUST HAVE a TOP."
Me? What do I want?
I want someone who pays the bills on time.
I want someone to help run errands.
I want someone who can pick up the check every now and then, literally and figuratively.
Some people get it, some don't.
There are a lot of fucking assholes out there.....(and this is a generalization), but usually, the prettier they are, the more of an asshole they are.
Because we LET the pretty boys be assholes. We let them treat us like shit, because we're happy that a pretty boy is giving us attention.
The pretty ones tend to be the worst in bed. They think that it's enough that you're ALLOWED to lick their dick. They have never had to work in bed. They're like pretty logs.
Turn them over and fuck them. Tell them not to speak or move. After you come on their ass, give them bus fare and tell them to hit the road.
There's a sign in the Knotty Woodpecker, something like;
"It doesn't matter how handsome he is, some other guy is tired of putting up with his shit."
We hang on their every word. They're used to people listening to them and their stupid drama stories.
We listen because they're pretty.
They're used to people giving them tons of attention; they become self-centered. We create these monsters. The pretty ones won't ask YOU how YOU're doing. It's all about THEM.
Well, fuck THEM!
Who are the good guys to date?
They're not always that pretty. They go to work. They're accountants, social workers, maintenance guys, etc.
He may not have a fabulous job, he may not make a lot of money.
But he knows when to stop after a couple of drinks.
He doesn't check out other guys when he's with you. He's not cruising on-line constantly.
In bed, he makes sure that you're happy.
He takes out the garbage.
He makes you feel like you're the most important person in the world.
He's the keeper.
When you find him, hold onto him. In the big picture of life, he'll book the flights, and make sure that you sit on the aisle, the way you like. He'll help with the funeral arrangements when a parent dies. He'll be there to help take care of you, and you him.
And that's what it's really all about, folks.
Suck his dick. SUCK IT EVERY FUCKING NIGHT! Suck it every night like it's the first time you've ever sucked dick!
Learn to be happy with him and just him. Appreciate him.
Don't lose him, the good guys are few and far between.
Friday, March 23, 2007
When you start a road trip you are bound to have some remarkable stories. Stories you may never tell and ones that to this day still feel like dreams. I was traveling cross country with my girlfriend stopping at conspicuous cacti and unoccupied roadsides for spontaneous acts of lust.
It was Tuesday on the third day of our week long adventure and things were off to a good start. We were driving in an old pick-up truck my dad drove when he was young. The day was half dead and our bodies were damp from the suns rays which penetrated the windshield. My girl's bronze skin salivated and I told her to face me and spread her legs so I could see her shaved pussy. Alice was wearing a petite red dress with no panties. I had one hand on the soft leather wheel and the other wedged in between her dampening gorge. With the current distraction in "hand" the truck passionately veered off the road crashing into a pole supporting an awning of a dusty old diner. I slammed on the breaks and we quickly stopped.
As we stepped out of the truck a cloud of dust kissed our faces and an arrestingly burly man broke through the diner door. His face was intensely frightened but gradually turned mischievous. He wore a plain white t-shirt with dirty blue jeans and had a forceful presence and large brown eyes that ate us both alive. The man told us we needed to pay for the damages, did he see our car, we didn’t have nearly enough for the repairs. He said, “well then , your girlfriend will have to pay, I’ll take her until I’ve been fully rewarded.”
I threw myself in front of her and told him, “fuck off, don’t even think about touching her!”. He looked me up and down, smiled, and responded, “then I’ll take you!”
He grabbed me by the neck and ushered me into the dilapidated eatery and slammed the screen door on my girl. The man told her to wait there while we talked over some business. She bit her siren red lips and watched as he took me behind the counter near the grill. He must have just prepared a meal because the air was moist from cooked meat while a lone spatula stretched out on the grill like a beach chair. The man rubbed my neck and told me to remove my shirt while he slowly floated his hands down the curves of my waist entering underneath the bulge of my pants.
He grabbed my hairy balls and became familiar with the girth of my cock. I was frozen from the nature of the situation as he rolled down my pants. Standing there naked he used his left foot to craft a larger gap between my legs. He raised his large and lengthy hand and repeatedly spanked me against my bare skin.
Before the last thrust he bent me forward with my chest against the cold counter top causing my nipples to go erect and my ass to arch out. The final blow landed hard and his middle finger assaulted the opening of my ass hole, which he roughly massaged.
He used his hands to spread open my ass and licked the hair around my hole before he ate my fleshy ring. The crack of my ass was dripping with moisture as he stepped back and repeated to spank me until my cheeks were an apple red. There was a pause and I heard him grab the spatula from the grill. Before I could react it splashed hard against my rear.
After every hit more and more grease bathed my ass. The grease traveled slowly like warm honey through the hair around my trembling gap, down the crease of my balls where it followed the throbbing veins of my shaft and finally dripping off the head of my dick. Using the grease he penetrated my anal cavity with the blunt handle of the spatula, the harder he pushed the faster blood rushed to my stiffening cock. The feeling was so intense my body shook as I grasped the counter top. This put me face to face with Alice as she watched me scream in a frenzy of pleasure. He worked my slippery dick up and down as he spanked me harder blow after blow.
This new pleasure was blinding until finally cum surged through my cock and exited all over the back of the counter. The man started to walk off and I yelled, “is this how you treat all your customers” and he responded “I wouldn’t know I just broke in to help myself to a late lunch”.
He pushed my girlfriend aside, reached in his pocket for his keys, hopped on a motorcycle by the side of the diner and drove away. I cleaned off, got myself together, and closed the door.
On the window next to the entrance was a sign marked “Store Hours”, it said "Closed on Tuesdays". I explained to my girl, “that’s the last time your pussy picks where we stop!”
Thursday, March 22, 2007
I posted an ad on Craigslist yesterday, looking for a writer for one of my blogs....yeah, I think I have three or four now, two different names...
Anyway, I wanted a writer to write some erotic fiction. And I pay shit.
This one guy sent a sample of his work, and a link to his blog.
I read through his blog.
This is what I found....
"I'm back on the fence about that Barbara Streisand CD again. I'm on no fence about how hot 'so-and-so' is, and how good that 'xxxx' movie was."
This guy is a PUBLISHED author. He wrote a book. AND he writes REVIEWS!
Yet, he CANNOT come up with one fucking opinion about some stupid gay CD.
What the fuck? Have an opinion goddammit!!
This guy is a LOSER! He's the stereotypical homosexual. Weak, blaze, BORING!!
He probably has some stupid emotionally unavailable preppy boyfriend on the Upper West Side that makes him douche three times before they have sex.
I'm calling up my girlfriends, and we're going to go over there and beat the shit out of both of them. Just because we can.
I've had it with all these weak, wimpy, mediocre gay men!
They fill their lives with CLUTTER, expensive objets d'art, expensive clothes, expensive counter tops, because, really, they HAVE NOTHING TO SAY!
If they were interesting, they wouldn't spend the entire evening talking about dry wall.
I once broke up with a guy because he had an over-stuffed flower-print sofa and a Chippendale china cabinet. He was a doctor. So, you know that this Long Island girl was really not having it!
He was boring. And his furniture looked like it came right out of the Seamen's showroom, in the exact position they had it on display.
The conversation was all about....
I saw so-and-so in Greece
then we flew to Milan for the festival
then we went to Plaza del Eat-my-ass for something even more stupid.
Nothing ever HAPPENED in those places, except that he bought more china or porcelain, or dick-blown glass.
I made him pay for brunch.
Some guys, you want to just fuck them so fucking hard so that they can finally FEEL something in their lives.
Wake them up! Slap them, tie them up, bite them, leave teeth marks!
All of their emotions bottled up; surpressed by alcohol, drugs, over-eating, over-buying, emotionless anonymous sex, whatever.
Slap them so hard and make them SCREAM in pain! Force them to FEEL!
Stick some lawn furniture up their ass and give them the best fucking orgasm they've ever had.
Right after they come, they start sobbing.
"YOU understand me," they cry between the tears. Yes, I do. You're not that different. You're not so complex. You're a fucking textbook case.
They've just realized all of the years WASTED trying to be someone they're not, years WASTED trying to prove something to someone, not happy in the process -- all pointless.
And then, they want to be your boyfriend.
No, you can't be my boyfriend. You disgust me.
Now get the fuck out.
It was a wonderfully warm day today....reminding us that SPRINGTIME is finally here.
Oh, the joys of this luscious time of year. The birds are singing, the crocuses are pushing their little green stems from the soil.
And with springtime, I think of flowers.
And with flowers, I think of roses.
And with roses, I think rosebuds.
And with rosebuds, I think of ASS!!
HERE'S another ASS shot with that naughty HUDSON, New York belt from the Knotty Woodpecker!!
What does springtime make YOU think of?
Hey - I got NO photos of this "hot" bartender at Stray Bar. WTF, dudes?
Email me! Rich@GayHudson.com
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Tuesday nights are gay at Stray?
I don't really know, but that's what they tell me.
There's a hot bartender and my sources say a good number of gay boys at Stray last night.
Once we untie our fact-checker, and take the gag out of his mouth, we might be able to confirm the rumor. But until then, it's unofficially gay night. Plus, he doesn't want to be untied...
Tuesdays make it very difficult for us weekender gay boys.
...I mean, do I spend $100 on Amtrak, and four hours on the train, to go to Stray on a Tuesday evening, and back down on early Wed morning to go to work?
The STRAY bartender better be FUCKING HOT!
I want PHOTOS!!
send them to me: Rich@GayHudson.com
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
I'm taking the night off. More from the heterosexuals of Hudson! They're taking over! OMG! This is from one of my pals.
looked like a dolce & gabbana ad. scottish actors in black undies with stunning painted torsos adorned with red cloaks with gold broaches wielding spears...
what's not to like. ny times reviewer a o scott really missed the beauty of 300 stunning men
on dating: keep the dirt dirty
i recently felt a bit lazy and it was winter so i didn't bother with grooming my underarm hair. and my date was all the happier. loved it in fact. called my pits "woodchucks". so charming. as our next date approached i sent text: don't shower tomorrow.
boy scent is so exciting to us girls don't deny us our just desserts.
Monday, March 19, 2007
My sources were RIGHT! Straight people are reading GayHudson.com!
Someone took me aside the other night at Stray Bar and told me that the STRAIGHT people of Hudson are actually reading GayHudson.com --- and they LIKE it!
My source told me that "the hets" of Hudson like GayHudson because it's so fucking filthy.
This little ol' blog?
But, the suspicion was confirmed TODAY when someone posted a comment on how to TITTY FUCK a woman.
Or a trannie, I guess....anyone with boobs. It was NOT posted by a gay man.....nor a lesbian.
So, today's post is in CELEBRATION of titty fucking!
And the OUTCOME (heehee) of a good titty-fucking, the PEARL NECKLACE!
Does everyone know what a Pearl Necklace is? It's the cum on a woman's neck after she gets titty-fucked.
Anyway, here's some good STRAIGHT porn!
Sunday, March 18, 2007
I give up.
I'm going to be heterosexual.
Do you think I could 'pass'?
I didn't think so, either....
But one evening of watching the Lipstick Lovelies at Stray Bar, and I'm seriously considering it!
First off, these gals were HOT!
There was a lot of hip wiggling going on last night at Stray Bar.
I guess I could wiggle my hips like the Lipstick Lovelies....the only thing is that as I get older, there's a little too much JIGGLING, post-wiggling....if you know what I mean. I stop, but my ass keeps shaking....
My 'friends' ask me, "Rich, you want some FRIES to go with that SHAKE?".
Yeah, another 45 minutes on the machines at the Finnish Line, I know... (OMG - BOTH STEAM SHOWERS ARE BROKEN NOW!!!! My skin is so dry! Help me!)
The Lipstick Lovelies were amazing.....GREAT costumes, GREAT numbers, GREAT asses.....and OMG, they perform for HOURS!
DJ REDLIGHT (nee DJ Lisa) was spinning and she was AMAZING!!! Scissor Sisters, Madonna. We LOVE DJ REDLIGHT!!
The brothel spirits that haunt Hudson must have been happy last night. I felt like we were honoring our town's past!
OK, gay boys....we MUST make an effort to ALL go. I want to see every faigeleh within a thirty mile radius at Stray Bar next time she spins! DJ Redlight and Stray are really making an effort. We all have to show up! (Um, and can some cute boys go so that I can get laid? HELLO. I'm getting a king size pillow top mattress delivered today. You should sleep with me for the bed alone.)
Ok, let's go back to talking about ME having sex with a woman...
The last vagina I touched was my mother's....during birth....
And boobs, I just don't understand. Beyond their function of feeding young, I don't understand their purpose....some straight guy tried to explain it to me once, I still don't get it...
I could have sex with a woman....as long as she didn't mind getting fucked up the ass.
I mean, really, how different is THAT?
There's no prostate there, so I understand why women don't like it. It's probably not that enjoyable for her. But I'm sure that most women will tell you, most STRAIGHT guys don't care about HER enjoyment, so no difference...
But, give me a gal with a perky boy-like ass....it could happen....with enough alcohol.
She would have to have FABULOUS hair ---- because THAT will get me hard!
ps - folks in town have only been ENCOURAGING me to be more dirty with this blog - well, THIS is what you get.....be careful what you ask for!
My Italian grandfather, who grew up in Hell's Kitchen in New York, would tell me about the signs in the stores that read:
"IRISH NEED NOT APPLY"
Maybe that was why they started the St. Patrick's Day parades. Maybe it was about Irish pride, like Gay Pride parades now.
Maybe the St. Patrick's Day parades let people know that the Irish were united, that they weren't going to take any shit from anyone.
This past Tuesday night, I sat in an meeting of ACT UP at the gay and lesbian community center in New York. Twenty years ago, the group met and started protesting in the streets, demanding care and government action for people living with AIDS.
Former governor of New Jersey, Jim McGreevy was in the room, he sat just a few feet away from me. Maybe he's Irish.
Umpteen years ago I remember kissing the artist Keith Harring on the street.
St. Vincent's Hospital in Greenwich Village would only allow "next of kin" up to visit the sick. And since a gay partner was not considered "next of kin", he or she was not allowed up to see their loved one. This was 1990, in Greenwich Village.
So, ACT UP formed two moving concentric circles of gay men and lesbians and we silently kissed one another in front of the lobby of the hospital. That's when I kissed Keith Harring.
Eventually, with enough pressure, the hospital changed it's policy.
But shit like that still happens today, everywhere.
Anyway, wouldn't it be great if the Gay Pride Parade really had no political agenda? Or, maybe like St. Patrick's, that people can't really remember WHY a parade was originally necessary?
That after so many years, and so many parades, we can just celebrate Gay Pride by drinking PINK beer, or wear silly PINK buttons, or tshirts that say "KISS ME, I'M GAY"?
(Well, mine would say, "BLOW ME, I'M GAY", and I already got the pink wig...)
Straight people would do it, too; the same way that non-Irish celebrate St. Patrick's Day. You've heard "EVERYONE'S Irish on St. Patrick's Day", well, there would also be "EVERYONE'S gay on Gay Pride Day!".....why not?
Wouldn't it be great if the concept of gays NOT being able to marry would seem as outdated as the sign that reads; "Irish Need Not Apply"?
Oh well. One day....
Unrelated stories from today:
As I sat in a bar today, someone with a green blazer started talking to me. He told me that he was not Irish, but he continued to celebrate St. Patrick's Day, because he and his father always celebrated it. He did it in memory of his Dad.
And a friend bought a heater for my house. A very nice gesture, I thought. Then, this evening, I tried to move it. It's really fucking heavy! Yet he picked it up at the store, carried it it around and brought it from his car, up my stairs into my house...just because he thought I might like it. So sweet....
That is why I like this town.
(.......sorry, tomorrow I'll write about rim jobs or dildos, or OMG, the Lipstick Lovelies singing about TWAT! Young women singing about their "CAVERN"!!! I can't even compete with those dirty gals. I think the spirits of the old brothels of Hudson were happy tonight!)
Friday, March 16, 2007
Two shots of Sambuca at the Red Dot, and I can hardly type...
Ok...here we go...this is good..and TOTALLY true....I don't even have to make it up....
I have this huge suitcase, which is half the size of my apartment in Manhattan. Well, it's big enough for a dead body. Ok, I exaggerate. It's big enough for the dead body of a CHILD, or an under-aged teenager.
I brought the suitcase with me on the Amtrak. Mistake
I get off the train and there's all this FUCKING SNOW!! Folks, it's March 15th. Enough with the snow, ya know.
I instantly felt like Rhoda Morgenstern in Minnesota.
"I figure in the cold, I'd stay betta."
I'm dragging this HUGE friggin' suitcase in a foot of snow, from the train station.
Cabs? There are no fucking cabs. Please....
I'm yelling at myself:
"Rich, you WANTED a house in upstate New York. Well, this is what you get! There's a foot of snow! Dave and Paul got a house in Fire Island....you could have done THAT...but NOOOOOOO....YOU wanted to be different...YOU wanted to be a pioneer...yeah, up-fucking-state New York, where it snows in the middle of March! Are you happy? Are you happy now?"
This must have been what Rhoda Morgenstern felt like in her first winter in Minnesota.
"MA! BREN! Why d'ya let me move to Minneapolis?!"
WHAT am I doing here?
So, it's me and this suitcase - FILLED WITH DILDOS! See the Box-o-Dildos post below.
Why I lug a suitcase full of dildos around with me, I have no idea.
And don't forget the anal balloon pump...you NEED that....
I heard my father yelling at me.
He would yell at my mother:
"Why do you need ALL these SHOES? You only have TWO FEET?"
Now, in my head, he's yelling at me:
"Why do you need ALL these DILDOS? You only have ONE ASSHOLE!"
Yes, Dad, I know....
Fine. It's me, a foot of snow, and a huge suitcase of dildos.
(omg-this is ALL TRUE...happened tonight).
A snow plow pulls up along side of me.
I'm thinking, great, now I'm going to be robbed by a guy driving a snow plow.
Watch, tomorrow, I'm going to be raped by a guy driving a Zamboni..
. Anyway, he opens the door and says,
"Do you need a lift?"
I was like "YES! That's great!"
I couldn't believe it ---- the kindness of strangers!!
He drove me the few blocks to my house, the suitcase o'dildos between us.
I thanked him profusely
As I was getting out, he said,
"here, I want to you to have this...."
uh...oh, 'here's the catch', I thought...
But, at this point, it really didn't matter, I would've sucked the guy off. I mean really, he gave me a ride, why not? I've done more for less...
Anyway, he handed me a slip of paper.
I don't know what it says....I haven't read it yet....it's something religious.
Whatever-- Jesus, Buddha, L. Ron Hubbard, whatever this guy believes in is OK with me.
He gave a stranger a ride in his car. He's a good guy. Peace be with him.
I thanked him.
But I guess I could have given him a dildo. I had a few extra.