i <3 GG MIA & Kyouya Cat

I think I can be the new Gossip Guy. Feels like everybody's all over the place these days and the dude set about reporting it is on vacation. I'll fill in.

Maybe he actually has a life. And the rest of us, by us I mean, the confused lost souls a la Hitachiin brothers, we don't have said life.

I was catching up on everyone's things. Marie is still heartbroken, I'm sending her some salve with a really cool Courtney Love CD, because nothing like girl power from a woman who lost the love of her life to drugs to cheer someone up... I think?

Caterina is off avoiding the love(s)? of HER life. But that's to me the epitome of a free spirit. So I like her like that.

Kyle realized he's found the woman he wanted to wake up next to and has become so whipped he gives Sparkle Edward a run for his money.

Vincenzo gave Madeleine an orange bead that she has on her arm and protects like an heirloom. Huh. Who'd have thought? Something must have happened there we don't even know about.

Caroline is off on an ego-trip thinking I give a damn about what she has to say to me. The media player with her orgasm on loop is not even one of the highlights off my blog. Goes to show some people do live in the clouds... while their husbands carry on sexually charged verbal matches with their own best friends.

Speaking of Elena, she's turned into a sleek, cool, calm and collected Cheetah. Now, I know everyone's already "in love" and all, but my guess is there's still some game in the hunting grounds. These rich people need to get a job.

Lucille is sorry she's done half the things she's done in life, including "using" me. Which she did. So long as I was useful, so long as I made her feel better, she kept me around, the moment she could "pull herself together" and no longer needed me, she wanted to suddenly tell me what was best for me. I get it that she wanted to do what was best for her, my respects to that, but when someone tells me that they have my best interest at heart, in a decision I have no say over... yeah that doesn't translate to me as being for "my best interest." It translates to: I've figured things out, now get out of my hair and here's a good excuse as to why.

Well I forgive her already. Why? Because I guess I just don't care enough either way. I had an idea of her, of the kind of friends we could be, and it got dashed pretty quickly, so now I'm seeing people for who they really are and I guess I should be thankful? I'm glad I met Lucille, even when I thought she was like me and ended up being nothing like me. We both learned something from the other. I hope. At least if anything, not to assume we know each other... or even who we're supposed to be with.

Which, according to her was, at least in my case, with the Queen of Ice.

But you know what?

On page 124, Maid Marion met Robin Hood.

When cold hits metal it becomes steel. And that's one hard ass material that can cut right through you, or make some damn fine jewelery. But when cold hits nature it just freezes. No matter how much a tree longs to see the winter, its leaves wither before the first frost bites its root.

Some people just belong together. And some just don't. We can't fight fate. Even I know that.

Me? I'm the Sheriff of Rottingham...

Who said it best? "There's a difference between those who are in love, and those who just say it". Jason Weiss, man, you've got some quotables, you will go on my tweet of fame when I reach some bulls-eye number like 10,000. And this is the man in question.

I didn't really see it coming. And Christian did, because he's a witch... He's totally a witch.

I don't know. I'm never sure where I fit into things. But I'm a Percy. That's gotta stand for something.

I feel calm about things too, like, there's something that's suddenly shifted into place. Isn't that weird? My life has never been more hectic and everything seems just right... even the fact that some people I thought belonged to me... just don't.

I'm the Sheriff of Rottingham. And everyone knows where he ends up at the end of the movie.

As for everyone that thought they had me and my love life figured out?


But hey, one thing that's cool about all these new arrangements... I'm back in the playing field, and this is aiming to turn into one hot and wild safari.

No Such Thing As Cute

Redheads tend to dump me. Caroline used me like a disco stick (hence the blog identity) and Lucille went bipolar on my ass (I will, in fact, pay tribute to this in a creative way, to be announced soon). Lucille appears and disappears, (A Peek-a... wait for it...--BOO). One day she decides I'm important, the next she bails. One day I'm telling her I like her, she listens, then somehow she becomes deaf and makes up her own theories of my words, splatters them on the walls of her head and blows me off.

Redheads annoy me, and they don't fucking listen. They're convenient, they get it, they hear you and they only pull what they want, what they need. Redheads dry you up. They're dense females. A certain Duke would know.

Except for one, which I've been decidedly too chicken shit to date. Anna. I like Anna. Anna is good. Anna has a phone number. I should call her. Maybe she's my Rory?

Wow. That was mean, even for me. I'm sorry. I'm not the unapologetic type. When I fuck up, I apologize, always.

Anna is not my Rory, Lucille is not my Caroline and Christian is not my Veronique. I play favorites, I do, temporarily, sporadically, out of control, but measured. I'm too young be so damn serious about everything.

Why does everyone want everything so fucking figured out?

I have intense relationship with men. Michelangelo was my love, and Anna was my first crush. I've grown up since then. I've faced people, life and heaps of shit. I've also discovered gardens, sugar addicts and bartenders.

I have a thin line between me and all the people in my life. I haven't decided which one I'm going to break. I haven't decided if I'm going to reach through that line to one particular girl, or to one particular guy.

Christian is the closest to me right now, because he's my step-brother, so there's more between us than I've ever had with anyone else. He knows though, that there's a side of me saved especially for her. But we don't know who "her" is yet. That girl I plan to become someone else with. That girl that will take my relationships with women from "fucked up" to "intense" in a millisecond. I say this in earnest. I have many faces, but they're all me, one way or another. And each belong to one person in particular. Not all of them belong to a "the one" just yet.

I connected with Christian, quicker and more intensely than with other people. I connect with men, quicker than with women. I have more experience with men emotionally and with women sexually. I've never been the receiving end when it comes to my sexuality, neither with men or women. I give it to them. Always.

I'm not as emotionally developed as I should be at this age. But my asshole development is advanced and quite compounded. I've mastered the art of bullshit to a T. Negative or Positive consequences be damned, so far as I know, that's what I'm allowed to do.

I feel safe with my brother. There's a safe place in my life with him. But there's still a thread, thin threads nobody walks. For all my connection to the man, and I classify him as "the" man, I do not know him that well. I'm not always sure what he's thinking, I'm not always foremost in his thoughts either. There's a part of him that also just belongs to "her". Another woman, as well, that he picks, whomever that is.

We understand each other, what we want out of people, out of life, out of ourselves. Yes, we are connected in a private personal way that is also all our own. There is love in what we have, because Christian does what nobody else does with me, he loves me openly, he takes the risk to express it and let me know it. He gives back. We're friends, we're family, we're like an old married couple on crack.

Then there's "her". That girl I'm undecided about. Then there's "me" and all those secret identities. And then there's redheads, who just fuck with my head and should stick to fucking with themselves. Seriously.

And Veronique, an owl I want to keep in my pocket.

"I'm kind of tired of getting screwed over." That's what I said years ago. Looks like the words caught up with me, cause now nobody's screwing with me. Everyone's a little bit afraid. And you know what? They're right. They should be. Lord knows what I'll do. But I can state something matter of fact: Whatever I'm going to do, it won't be unplanned. When you leave the house looking up at the sky in awe, you don't notice yourself stepping on dog shit. I look to the ground, I see where I'm walking, I gauge my steps. I plan ahead because everyone's a Poodle these days.

I don't have an internal GPS, I don't know what direction anyone wants to take. I don't know how to get to my prefered destination. I just have signs guiding me. Good ol' fashioned human signs.

Right now the street have so many different signs pointing in different directions. Who's to stop me from exploring them all.

I've seen the road, and I can skip the landmines. Caroline and her abusiveness, Veronique and her neurosis, Christian and his camouflage, Michelangelo and his denial, Lucille and her capriciousness... and then there's Anna, who I've yet to call up.

I really should stop being such a chicken shit and call her, but then I'll get to know her. Maybe I like torturing myself with the notion that somewhere out there is a perfect woman for me, a redhead with cute freckles that I've admired since I was 12. That I'll meet up with her when I'm 80 and say "hey chickie... I used to like you when I we were young" and she'll turn to me and say "What do you know old chap, I liked you too" and then we'll hold wrinkly old hands together and smile knowingly, squeezing those last drops of life from our fingers, looking at the horizon and death together thinking "wow... life sure is cute."

But that will never happen. Because when I'm 80 years old I'll resort to drinking Viagra, I'll want to hit up a screeching Veronique to mess with her, I'll want to shut up Lucille's senile whining with some sort of highly inappropriate bondage, I'll want to make illegal pedophilic-looking passes at my own brother (Who, as we've always suspected, turns out to be a vampire for whom at that point I'll look 60 years his senior), I'll want to tease Michelangelo's ear with petulant requests just to make his lover jealous, I'll want to throw my walking stick at Caroline and hope it smacks her droopy ass on the way, heh, at her age, she'd fall over. All a-giggles.

So while I'd love option A. I'd enjoy more an option B. I'm sure from here to the end of my life, a C option will show up and shut me the fuck up. That girl, who is still blurry in mind, will reach out and break the thread that separates us, she'll squeeze her way into my cluttered world, she won't give a damn, she'll have the nerve and the balls to surprise me.. Until then, I guess I won't hope for a cute ending.

But I'm still hoping for a happy one.

Just like women hope for a blue prince, I'm hoping for my devil-in-red princess.

Now where are you, you dumb slore?

Most Girls I Meet Are Quite Savage

I'm a gemini. I get bored easily.

So today I'm going to talk about my bro Christian.

Fact #1. He's mega yummy.

He's strong and determined. He has a temper to match his body and dude, that body is ALL hard. He's a sporty guy, so he's very fit (that's what I meant by the way? pervs) and he does crazy dangerous things like ride horses and hit balls with long iron sticks.

Hehe.

And he looooooooooooves me. He kisses me goodnight and everything. Yeah I know what you're thinking. Oh yeah. He hugs and kisses me and wuvs me. How's that for a little creepy with your breakfast?

He doesn't quite worship me the way Nicholas does, but well, Christian is the older brother in this little family shindig so he's supposed to be the more mature type, right?

He has a secret place that I'm going to reveal one day, right here! A la PEREZ HILTON.

Ok I'm kidding. If my brother ever deigned to tell me his secrets, I would never publish them. If he deigned. But he hasn't.

Fact #2. He keeps secrets from me.

LE GASP OF SHOKU. I know!!!! I mean, from ME! ME! His precious younger brother! His SUN! His MOON! His WEED--er--FLOWER!

How dare he?!

Well, I'd squeeze it out of him but I'm afraid he might punch me. You see all in all...

Fact #3. Despite appearances, Christian is a violent guy.

I mean, granted, this can be useful when he's, say, trying to protect me from old perverts who want to cop a feel of my sweet sweet bisexual ass.


But for the most part, it's just a slightly scary warning sign slapped on his perfectly calm forehead.

You know what? I should train, and then test his temper, and see if I can take him. I oughtta! Once upon a time, I could slam Michelangelo into a wall... then again he was usually permissive because the slamming was followed with some heavy making out BUT STILL GODDAMNIT.

Yes, that will be my mission, to make:

Fact #4. I can totallly take him

TRUE.

Hey, I've had to fend off my share of men when he's not around, and I've got a mean right hook!


Plus I look cute doing it, and who else can say THAT? Am I right? Am I right?

Now who's your disco daddy?

Squiggles,
Disco Stick

Confessions of an Emoholic

Bang.

Way to shoot me with my issues Lucille "I HAVE MORE FACES THAN A GEMINI" Delton.

I don't self-analyze much, it's not my style, because I know who I am. I have to clarify this here in MY blog, lest someone think I'm populating THEIR blog. I was going to leave this as a comment, but it sort of turned into an entry, and why not? If the world knows it just makes for better coffee conversation.

First, let me clarify why I dedicate oh so much blog space to Lucille Delton and bet shit like move in with her for 30 days and call her names and abuse and taunt her.

Obviously, I like her.

Like you didn't see that coming.

There's more to it. Out of all the people that populate this sinister limbo of life, Lucille is the one most like me. Which is at times cute and at others kinda scary. I'd love it if we were very similar, but we're not. Yes, I know that just makes what I said confusing. Here's the deal:

Why SheHoe and Narthurloony are alike:

a. We were born in the same year. We're the same age. In limbo land, we were born in the same generation and got tossed to the side by our no-good parents.

b. We were both extremely good at being extremely bad.

c. We both went through the spiritual transformation equivalent of winning The Biggest Loser Reality TV Show.

d. We both got a second chance to prove ourselves to other people.

e. We both switch careers like crazy people.

But this is where the similarities end. We're not very similar at all. We have these things in common that appear fundamental but at the core we're very different.

So I set myself up to comparison, saying that we're alike, and we both said it when we met. But when I see Loony Lucy running around and wetting her bed linens with mopey tears, I know for sure we're nothing alike.

I never tried to actually find myself.

And that's where we are so different.

I see this girl, making every possible move to change or be herself or turn into someone else and I think to myself. Wow. You're aware that's never gonna happen.

A leopard doesn't change its spots. You can dress up the leopard, you can tame it, you can calm it down, but it's still and will always be a wild predator.

Lucille, you're a nice girl. A nice girl, who is extremely good at being extremely bad. You're a femme fatale under wraps. You should be an international spy killing bad ass mofos, sleeping with random men a la Bond, Jane Bond and coming home to a loving husband who doesn't care if you slept with half the world and left a trail of blood so long as you share with him you're favorite chai vanilla tea and smile.

You're a hell of a lot more fun than Ashley is. You just don't know it.

Why do I bother you so much? Because you're killing that awesome chick. You want people to like you but their opinions don't matter. You feel left out from your family because the Deltons don't really love you, they see you as a tool and the moment I saw you I knew that was the one thing you needed. Love. I said that word and your whole universe just went KABOOOM for some reason. Suddenly you were rampant in search for love, and depressed because you'd realized you didn't have it. And you started turning into different women, Lucia's, Pucia's, Lucillia's, wtf? I don't know? Like turning into different women would get you someone who loved anyone of THOSE women. Like any of these women held the answer to who you truly are.

LIKE YOUR GRANNY KNOWS WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE.

I totally dig that you and my step-brother gave it a go, but it failed. I like that, because Christian wasn't dating Lucille. He was dating Lucille-who-wants-to-run-away-from-Lucille. A girl within a girl. At least, that's the Lucille I saw, because I met you years ago, before any of these other people existed and I observed you. If that is who you are now, then hey, ok, you succeeded in transforming yourself, good for you, I'm sure you'll make it work. But if there's even a slight hint of who you were inside of all that glitz, that's a girl I seriously dug. If she's gone, then I don't mind having sex with your body and pretending that's the real one I'm fucking.

I set myself up a lot, and that has never changed. For example, in the past, I dated this girl, Katrina (or she who should NEVER be named) and I only did it to piss off my little brother. Nicholas, I don't think you've met him? I didn't like Katrina, not really. She was a virgin and I wanted to pop her cherry. I wanted to see Nicholas cry. I wanted to show him who was boss. End of story. I'm a mean guy.

I haven't stopped being this guy. If anything I've just become better at it.

I knew this was toxic, I knew it. But did that stop me? Noooo. I follow through with whatever sick game I'm playing until the very end. I drop hints only every now and then, far down the line, when I know they'll do the most damage, or when I know they'll at least register shock.

So here's my confession of the day: I didn't fuck Caroline because I liked Caroline. I fucked Caroline because she reminds me of Lucille Delton; just a dumber, more boring and flat-chested version.

This confession may not matter to you at this point, but it matters to me. And hey, this is MY blog after all. See, I'm respectful of people's space.

Toodles,
Disco Stick

Behind The Scenes

I've been all over the world, I got reminded of that today while I stared at Christian's car keys. He has a little elephant mini-totem I brought from Sri Lanka. 

I'm quite adopted in case you didn't know. I am perfectly fine with this, I'm 22 and SO over it. But my former French half-sister still sends me embarrassing letters.

But today we had a little flash to the past. Suddenly everything can make sense. Sounds exciting... but now it's my turn to say: He worries me.

At the same time, for the briefest moment I re-lived a bit of those past feelings I had for Michelangelo. You'd think they'd never died. I also quasi-established that Veronique would be my wife. I wonder where that's all headed. Never mind that one of the reasons I got kicked out from my last foster family was for sleeping with my young step-brother's girlfriend... and then with him.

That's all in the past though right? ... Right?

I'm not there right now. I'm here. February 18. 18/2 - 2/18 

Right now, I just want to rest my head on his heart, see if I can calm it down, because I need it to keep beating steady and healthy. We're barely getting started.

I love him.

I Fix You

I feel kind of weird, like my hormones are on a rampage. Ok enough pregnant dude talk. 

I had a panini today and boy did I miss eating bread at least ONCE a day. I'd had cereal this morning around 7 AM and tonight I'll probably have some de-hydrated veggie soup. Don't know whether to say "yum" yet.

I have a new crack device. Let's see how that goes. 

I'm kind of missing someone... the day's barely getting started. 

Found an online image editor that works great if you don't have Photoshop installed (like me, because my laptop is crappage) 

www.pixlr.com

It's one of those extremely useful url's like tinypic, tinyurl or twitter.

Good Vibrations, Cue Song.

So this is the result of "changing your frequency" in a diet huh? Every time I start a new diet, or I'm starting to get the hang of a new diet, I tend to go spastic.

I woke up at 7 AM today. Is that the hour GOD wants me awake or what? Sun came out and hit me in the eyes and you know what, I felt someone next to me get up and leave somewhere.

Huh. Where do you go that early in the morning?

It's 8:30 now, and most children are wrapping up first period at school. I graduated years ago, I'm a young, promising start-up entrepreneur of the new millennium. I do not need this early wake up crap!

From: Owl / To: Kink & Bee

This is the Leather Pride Flag. Yes, such a thing exists. For all you deviants with S&M in their heads. I wonder who will tout it more proudly.