Went on one of those long drives in Mark‘s new car today. It’s rare that I hit Sacramento and Stockton in one day, especially with a side trip to Isleton for crawdad melts. It was fun. I may show pictures sometime. But not tonight…

At the cheap cigarette store in Sacramento, I started chatting with the woman behind the counter about matches (long story). Eventually, the subject turned to the fact that she has eight children and one grandchild. I was shocked, since she looked about 30.

As it turns out, she’s actually 34. Two years younger than me, and she has eight kids and a grandchild. That’s horrifying. I left feeling very relieved not to be heterosexual. There’s nothing wrong, mind you, with being heterosexual, but, given my occasionally slutty nature, it’s almost certain that I’d have a huge collection of devil spawn running around some double-wide in North Carolina.

I’m going to bed now and have a nice wank fantasizing about pregnancy-free sex…

I didn’t much care about the American version of Queer as Folk before it aired. I saw a little of it Sunday night at the corner bar, and I now realize that I seriously underestimated just how MUCH I didn’t care.

What a pile of crap.

I’ll say it again: stories which are about nothing other than “being gay” are boring. Period. To be interesting, a story must have good characters, which means they should do something other than look pretty and “be gay”. Just as in real life, a sexual orientation is not a substitute for a personality.

And frankness is no substitute for substance either. While it might be great that they said “buttplug” on the air, it might have been nice if they’d said something else too. ANYTHING else, as long as it might have made me care whether these people lived or died. The sermons and the dialogue were worthy of an ABC Afterschool Special, at best.

QAF makes Sex in the City look positively entertaining by comparison, which is no small accomplishment. I found that a half hour of this tripe was quite enough, thanks. There are enough personality-deficient professional homosexuals on the streets of San Francisco; I don’t need more of them on TV.

Give me Tales of the City any day…

It’s a bad day for the country, but a very good day for San Francisco.

  

Duncan and Rick make a cute couple, dontcha think? They’re welcome to my living room couch any time, even though it’s considerably less hospitable than their guest room. I want to live someplace where I can have a guest room, dang it…

Current status on weekend plans:

• Cold not quite eradicated.
• Duncan and Rick moderately entertainied.
• Bottles not updated.
• Sex not had. No volunteers either.

One out of four ain’t bad, I guess…