So Hot...I'm Melting Snow!

Each year for my birthday, I go skiing for a weekend with a group of friends. Last year's ski trip involved a hot tub, way too much vodka, and no snow...so we spent all of our time not skiing.

Not this year!


So 6 other friends and I traveled three hours to say in a chalet on the mountain overlooking the slopes. Did I mention Vodka was involved this weekend? All I'm going to say about Friday night is that vodka, the game "Catch Phrase", and a flippant comment about "making the game more interesting" should never mix. I have now seen way too much of my friends and I think that my eyes have been burned a bit.

Saturday, after waking up at the crisp hour of 7:00 am, we hit the slopes. I've mentioned it before, but I used to teach beginning skiing. If I lived closer to the slopes, I would be there every weekend. The conditions were very good, with only a few icy spots are the expert slopes. Moguls were light with powder, and my legs were feeling the pain by the end of the day.

Sadly...we have one casualty of the weekend. On his last run, my one friend was cut off by a female snowboarder. Both were moving a bit out of their control so both are to blame...but let it be known that a woman was to blame for his accident. He fell forward, landed on his shoulder and broke his collar bone. He'll have to wear this contraption for the next six weeks, which is a downer. In this picture, he was cruising on the pain shot and the Vicodin he was taking, enjoying the mind numbing effects.

Now today...well it's officially my birthday. We are instilling a rule hear at the spotlight today. You can say anything you want to me...but you are not allowed to use the word "old" in anything you say today! Do so...and see my wrath!

So what did I get for my birthday already? Two different cakes (which means my ass will be growing if I don't hit the running trails!), a great DVD from Tunagirl, and Bill gave me this gem (which isn't work safe at all)! I think I love my birthday!

The New Rules

Now that the country is on such a conservative swing, everything seems to be changing. Hem lines are getting longer, Christina Augliera is going to join the nunnery, and religious services are the new singles bar. With all these changes, I've been wondering how dating will be reflected as I approach my late 20's. Shut up...I'm only turning 25!

Back in the 50's, a good girl would get asked to the dance by a boy, go out on dates and eventually go steady. A year later she would get "pinned", where he would give her his fraternity pin to symbolize his undying love for her. Soon after, the marriage proposal would happen and they would both be married as virgins. Their wedding would be beautiful and the wedding night would be one that neither would forget.

Cut to the 90's. Guy meets guy in a gay online chat room. He gives his physical statistics and a picture of his dick, and after a few messages, agrees to go over to the other guy's house for a sex hookup. As the hook-up happens, someone is getting "pinned" in a whole new way. Post orgasmic bliss...you lie there in bed, and suddenly realize that you could actually carry on a conversation with the guy. So you exchange names, and start making regular sex dates. A month or so later...you start enjoying each other's company out of the bedroom and you realize you are now dating. Only then...you think of exchanging last names.

Now as we are in this Puritan Renaissance, I'm beginning to wonder what the new rules are? Does a hickey on the neck mean you're going steady? Is a blowjob really sex? How far can I go before I've crossed over to aggressive slut? Does a little groping over the pants count as first base? What's second and third base? And how long do I now have to wait to go for the home run?

Music Tag!

I am lucky enough to know a lot of little things about several different subjects. Except popular music. The radio stations are so full of ads that I never listen, and I haven't bought a CD in a year because the damn things are so expensive. So when I saw the questionaire going around, I thought...good thing I didn't get that.

Then Tunagirl tagged me it, so now I have to tag three new people. Look out Pua, Rick, and Mark.

1. Total amount of music files on your computer: I'm going to sound real pathetic here…but I don't own an ipod…so I have no music on my computer.



2. The last CD you bought was: Buy a CD? I'm trying to think here…about a year ago I bought the Queer as Folk Soundtrack.



3. What is the song you last listened to before reading this message? "What It's Like" by Everlast. I listen to it about two weeks ago.



4. Write down 5 songs you often listen to or that mean a lot to you and say why:
   
   
   • "By My Side"…from Godspell. The song is about how those being left behind want to be taken along. I first heard it performed by a friend who was cast in the show, and it gave me chills. When I've felt left behind…that song just seems to sum up what I feel.
   
   
   
   • "Bootilicious" by Destiny's Child: It's become the theme song before going out to the bars. Sort of my confidence booster when I've needed it…which is all the time.
   
   
   
   • "Purpose" from Avenue Q: This song has been hiting me a lot lately…as I'm looking for what my purpose is in this life now. Seeing that I need to find a career.
   
   
   
   • "Cold" by Annie Lennox: Favorite lyric is "Dying is easy…it's living that scares me." Its been my life at times.
   
   
   
   • "Shit on the Radio" by Nelly Furtado. The lyrics say it all to me:
     

     I remember the days
     When I was so eager to satisfy you.
     And be less than I was
     Just to prove I could walk beside you.

     
     
   
   
5. Who are you going to pass this stick to? (3 persons) and why?
   
   Pua, Because she's got a heart of gold that needs to be shared with everyone. Not to mention...I think she could use the distraction right now.
   
   Rick because he has the music in him...and I want to hear it.
   
   Mark because I just love a furry artist! Add to it, he can debate bible quotes with the best of them.

It's Training Men

Someone once told me that men need to be trained like puppies (thus proving that men really are dogs after all). When a man does something nice for you, you need to praise him like crazy.

"Wow...It just turns me on so much that you cleaned my house for me."

This is supposedly how women get men to take them out on dates all the time. "Oooo baby...I'm so happy you took me to dinner. I'm giving you a big kiss goodnight."

That's all it takes? Wow...I learn something new every day.

Do you think a blowjob is an appropriate praise for a man who pays my monthly bills?

The Levels of Unemployed Hell

For those of you who are not home during the day, I've realized that you have no idea how bad daytime television is. I on the other hand, crack open the Bailey's, add the coffee and can watch all of these shows while coming up for idea of what to post. But what really is out there? Multiple levels of hell.

• Level 1: Court Television
  
  The People's Court, Judge Mathis, Judge Joe Brown, Judge Hatchett, and the granddaddy of them all...Judge Judy. - Each of these shows is basically the same show where person A owes person B money and person B is going to be made to look like a fool for owing it.



• Level 2: Situational Comedy Reruns
  
  Tool Time, That Seventies Show, Friends, The Simpsons, and Becker. Each have two episodes daily. And I don't even have cable!



• Level 3: Reality Television
  
  Design Invasion, Ambush Makeover, Pat Croce's Moving In. One show remakes your room, another remakes your looks, and the last remakes your life!



• Level 4: Soap Operas
  
  Hot bodied men bed hopping with hot bodied women. Throw in a kidnapping and send a child away to school so it can return gown into a adulthood a month later.



• Level 5: Talk Shows
  
  Maury, The View, Tony Danza (who gave this nimrod a show?), Ellen, Oprah, Dr. Phil, and the master...Jerry Springer. These people show us unemployed people that our lives are not nearly as bad as we thought they were. Because no matter how bored we are at home, we can see some toothless freak who in back on the talk show for her 11th DNA test to determine the father of her child.

Sigh...It's time to turn off the TV.

A Whole New Box

10 years and one week ago, on my birthday...my friend Corisa sent me an email that said:

Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to you.
Do you realize you're almost 30?
Happy birthday to you.

Have I mentioned how much I hated her that day? Corisa...you walk a fine line if you use the number 4 in an email to me anytime soon.

Well turning 35 didn't really bug me until recently. I was asked to fill out a marketing survey. One week from today, on February 28, I will have to check the new box on the survey forms. I will officially be in the 35-40 box.

***blank stare***

Son of a bitch...35 years old. That's 1/2 way to 70, and nobody on my father's side of the family made it past 60.

I think I'm going to have to bury my head in the sand and pretend this isn't happening. I'm turning 24 damnit...it's my story...I'm sticking to it.

On a side note...I've started working on my drunk humor for the college tour. Of course...that means doing as much research as possible, so I went out on Friday night and got what others may call intoxicated, but I call "ready for boyfriend" status. What do college kids drink nowadays? Red Bull with Jager?

An Appropriate Gesture

Not too long ago, I was discussing with a certain someone (who appeared as a potential on the relationship radar.) that I love romance. Love nearly everything about it. Flowers, gifts, romantic poems, gestures of adoration, a guy kneeling with his head in my lap…(Hey! It can be romantic!). The conversation turned to who could out romance the other on a date with the other person, and we decided to do it.

My Original Idea:
I suggested a picnic dinner by the lake at night. I was going to make a nice dinner of roast chicken, potatoes, and steamed broccoli. Candles would be our only source of light, with the canopy of stars over our heads. I would give him the flowers I had ordered before as we would share a bottle of champagne with some chocolate covered strawberries before I would go into the next step of the date. Reaching over to the radio, I would turn on the CD player and play some nice slow jazz music that would allow us to dance closely while looking into each others eyes. Upon finishing dancing, we were going to take a leisurely stroll on the beach to end the night (and what would be our first date).

***sigh***
Makes you feel a little gooey inside doesn’t it?

But logic came into my head post romantic idea. It's February. If we were to go to the park for a picnic, I would need to bring about 50 blankets because the ground is frozen and we couldn't stay on the blankets very long without shivering. The winds off the lake would blow out the candles and we wouldn't be able to see what we were eating, or each other, so in our best interests, I would take us to the picnic shelter, where we could sit in the florescent lighting (which nobody looks attractive in), attempting to eat our now cold rubbery chicken.

The flowers would have died from the cold, and the chocolate covered strawberries would just not be an enjoyable as the chocolate would be so hard you could nearly break your teeth on it. So skipping the chocolate, we would just pound the champagne before moving to dance under the stars.

Did you know that Cleveland never gets a clear night in the winter? Did you know that ice storms and lake effect snow can come in without warning. I can see it now. We would begin dancing under the stars when the ice rain would hit. We would run back to the shelter, grab all of our belongings, and make a break for the car…except he would slip and fall on the ice, breaking his leg. I'd have to leave my radio in the ice rain while I carry this guy back to the car. A quick drive to the hospital, x-rays, and a cast later, the hospital would serve him some mushy meatloaf, a bowl of Campbell's soup, and some OJ. And that would be how we would end our evening. I would take him home, help him into his house, and tuck him in before finally going home myself.

Obviously logic won on that argument, so I came up with plan B.

Dinner and movie?

If You Got It, Flaunt It.

Ok...before I start this post...some situational updates over here in the life of the spotlight.

****
In the day job work situation, the hiring people have been out sick this week (which is interesting as I've been burning a fever off and on all week and I found the energy to call them). So the position is still pending. Therefore, I'll sit by the phone and wait some more. Why doesn't he call?

****
In other work situations...I've not posted this before, because I didn't want to jinx this, but since the contract has now been signed, I can officially say it. I been hired to perform on a nine college comedy tour (which will likely be in the North East). Pay is crap (although travel is covered), but the exposure is worth it. First school is going to be in Vermont, but the rest of the places have not been confirmed yet. Guess I need to practice my drunk frat boy impressions.

****
Is there such a thing as too much Buffy the Vampire Slayer? I used to think so, but I've been pet sitting for the past few days and have watched seasons 1-4 on DVD since Sunday. I think it may be time to put the remote down.

****
Today is MAK's birthday! He's finally turned 29, and I've decided it's time to offer him this advice. Once your age starts with a 3, you are allowed to age backwards for 5 years before aging forwards again. For this reason, I will only be turning 30 this February 28th. That's my story...I'm sticking to it. Damnit.

****
Yesterday, I was having a conversation with someone, and we were discussing something that happened to me recently. A guy I know told me he was "out at gay, but didn't flaunt it."

Over the past two days, I've been trying to figure out how I can flaunt my homosexuality more, as maybe it would be more beneficial to other gays out there. I figure I can start at the Starbucks:

Patrick: Hi there.
Hunky Male Employee: Can I take your order.
P: Yes...a Triple Venti Non-Fat latte and a blowjob because I'm gay.

When people ask what I've done this past weekend, I'll answer with the truth! "On Thursday I had a guy come to my house, where we proceeded to have gay sex. Friday was playing on my gay bowling league, where I kissed at least 5 men. Saturday I met a man in his hotel room for another sex hookup, followed by drinks with a friend and his boyfriend. Sunday I played volleyball with the gay league."

I must start wearing flamboyant colors at all times, particularly magenta, mauve, and chartreuse...which are the new gay colors this year. My home will be decorated in rainbow paraphernalia, and the towel that hangs on a towel ring next to my bed will be monogrammed with the words "cum towel".

Realizing that I haven't flaunted it at work at all yet (that's when I'm working)I've changed my business cards to say:
Patrick Doyle AEA, MBA, Homo

The thing is...I'm still not sure what is flaunting as opposed to just living my life. Yes I'm gay...but I'm also a comic, and I can make fun of being gay. I'm a recovering Catholic, a former abused kid, an emotional basket case, at times...a horny bastard (Let me know if your interested in a hook-up), an Information Systems and Application Developer (for the techie geeks out there), and a sports fanatic.

Being gay is just the fabulous part of me! Now if you excuse me...I think I need to practice seducing military men for my trip to Louisiana.

Onward Christian Soldiers!

In 1992, the majority vote in Colorado passed an amendment to its constitution that banned protections against discrimination based on sexual orientation. The cities of Denver, Boulder, and Aspen each had their laws revoked, and it became legal to deny housing and employment based on who someone had romantic involvements with.

Up until the election, nobody thought the amendment would pass, and the shock was instantaneous. But what happened afterwards was what scared the heck out of me. The evangelical Christians became militant. They picketed gay bars and clubs (my comedy show was picketed for immoral values), and suddenly gays were demonized in the Colorado population. But it wasn't just gays that were attacked for immoral lifestyles...it became everyone who wasn't Christian.

Is it just me, or does it feel as if this country has suddenly started it's own inquisition. Convert or die! Followers of Christ in the past have done some really horrible things in the name of their so called God. Not a true Christian, we'll burn you devil loving ass at the stake. But for some reason, the Christian faith doesn't seem to accept any tolerance for any outside beliefs. Maybe if the Christians started being more "Christ like" they would actually get me to convert.

Instead, posting comments on my website telling me how I'm going to burn in hell is not really a selling point to have me join you!

Seriously...why would anyone want to be a Christian? You have to tell all of your sinning friends that they are going to hell, you'll burn if you sleep in on Sunday, and every other faith seems to think you're fucked for picking the wrong faith, therefore you are just as wrong as us non-believers.

Instead...I've got an idea. I'm going to start my own religion. I'm going to worship the cell phone. When I need a miracle...it just might answer me by ringing, I have to send the provider money just like any other religion wants your money, and when I really need help, I can just dial 911.

All praise the mighty Cell Phone!

Why Won't He Call?

I'm staring at the phone today...wishing...nay willing it to ring. He has my number, he knows I'm interested, and I know he is as well, so why won't he call?

This is the part I hate more than anything else. In my potential relationships, I always get the guy's number and call him. I'll try twice to get him and not his voice mail, but the third time I'll just leave a message. It puts me in control and not sitting by the phone waiting for him to get off his lazy ass and call me. I don't like sitting by the phone like Linda Rodstant, singing Please be Him every time the phone rings. But it's all I can think about right now.

Which gets me thinking...Is this what straight women go through? Do they actually give their phone numbers out and just "wait and hope" that he calls? Fuck...no wonder so many single women are annoyed with men! Women need to remember that men are dogs.

We men will drink a boxcar of booze to get the nerve to talk to the one person we find really hot. When that person turns us down, the beer goggles kick in, and we attempt to get every number we can...in hopes that we will remember any of them. As sad as it is...you have to make a big impression, as by Monday morning the memory is already fading quite a bit. In the gay world, I'd suggest blowing him in the bathroom as a way of making a big impression. For you straight girls...how about just pressing your boobs against him in a goodbye embrace...or I guess you could blow him in the bathroom as well. Is that too far for the straight world?

True story here:

Last winter around this time, I met a guy online who asked me out for an after dinner drink. He ended up showing up way drunk explaining that his boss had taken him out for happy hour. Too much alcohol later, he pulled me into a bathroom stall and attempted oral sex.

P: You are really too drunk.
Guy:(while opening my pants) No. I'm not drunk. Come on...this will be hot!
P: Your standing with one foot in the toilet.

I can't understand why women wouldn't start just taking the numbers instead. Screw the thought that "men are the one's who are supposed to pursue!" Take the power back. Start a contest with your friends and see who can get the most numbers...then call only one but wait 6 days. Trust me...men will do anything for sex. If you call him...he will follow you like the love puppy he is.

So why am I sitting by the phone waiting for this guy to call me? Well...this guy is different. When we spoke on Thursday, he said he would call me Monday or at the latest, Tuesday. What makes this guy so special? He's got an enormous dangling carrot. He's a recruiter who submitted my resume to a company that specifically requested me. If I get this position, which is another contract job...I'd actually have health and dental insurance. So why hasn't he called? Fucker...

I've Got the VD Blues

Patrick...you've screwed more men than prostate cancer! ~Ryan at Ryan's Task

Valentines Day. February 14th...the day of VD. Who ever created this holiday needs to be shot. It's like some guy at the Hallmark corporation decided to make everyone who is single feel very aware of it.

Strange thing is...for some reason, my libido goes into overdrive around this time of year. My libido normally comes in spurts (who's punny today?), but during the month of February...I just go nuts...for nuts. It's like my brain tells me I need to get laid as often as I can before I turn another year older at the end of the month. (Shameless plug for my birthday on Feb 28th)

Of course...being single...it's not as easy to get laid regularly. Sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands, per say, and seek out new and interesting people over the internet, or in bars, or in the park, or on the street, or the homeless shelters. All I'm going to say about my weekend is that my back is a little sore this morning, and I'm very tired. Seems as if a lot of people have a charged libido this time of year.

But still I didn't think I'd get a valentine this year. I'm not dating anyone seriously...so I just assumed I'd go to the store and buy myself a box of chocolates and gorge until my butt grew out of my jeans.

Hold on to you biological clocks people. I have a Valentine this year.

Amazing Conversations

In a few short weeks, I will be basking the the Louisiana heat and hanging out on the military base with TunaGirl. Now she has made me promise to not have sex with any military men in her neighbor's kitchen, which means I'm going to have to get creative and hang out in the barracks. But I'm telling you all now...when I get back, if I pee on stick and it turns blue, I'm suing for paternity.

Now the big fish and I have been talking about doing something completely insane and auditioning for the Amazing Race. The way I figure, with her charm, and my lust for foreign men, we should be at least entertaining. Of course, we have talked a bit as to how our conversations would turn out if we actually did the show. You see...the two of us are both over protective.

K: Walk the tightrope between the two skyscrapers? I'll do it.
P: No, I'll do it.
K: No, I'm not going to let you risk yourself that way. I'll do it.
P: No, you have kids to return to. I'll do it.
K: I'll kick your ass if you don't let me do it.
P: TunaHubby will kick my ass if I let you do it. So either way..I'm doing it.
K: Hey! That team just passed us. I'm fucking doing it or I quit.
P: (Competitve nature kicking in) Fine!

Ok...so we are a bit alike. Both over protective, we each have a strong sense of direction, but we also share the same fears:

P: (reading clue) Welcome to the temple of the spider. This temple has over 1 million free roaming spiders inside. One team member must walk in bare feet through the temple and find the clue inside. This is a religious temple, so no running is allowed.
K: (looking at temple) Uhh...huh.
P: You do it.
K: Me? Men are supposed to kill the bugs. You do it!
P: I had to eat the raw squid!
K: I got felt up on the train!
P: I had to wear the speedo!
K: I swam in the ice water.
P: Rock, Paper Scissors?
K: Sure...but you're still doing it.
P: Fuck! I better get a date out of this. Where are you?
K: (Paying a local some money) This man's going to stop that other team from passing you. Now get your ass in there and get the clue! NOW or Tuna Hubby will kill you when we get back!

Of course, our differences will keep us focused when we need it.

K: Oooo...look...a sale on shoes.
P: Skip it! We can get shoes when we get home. Wait...Did you see the basket on that guy? Damn!
K: Quit humping him and get on that bus before you make me jealous that I haven't seen Tuna Hubby in weeks!

Yeah...I'd say we are perfect for the show.

Encore! Encore!

When I first read Tales of the City by Armistad Maupin, I found myself thinking "I want more!" Six books later...I still wanted more, even though the story was over. Sometimes a reader can fall in love so much with the storyline that even though the story has ended, the reader isn't ready for it. Instead he hopes that the author will continue the journey they took him on, heading for new and more exciting adventures. Often though...the author has lost the passion for that particular storyline...and therefore has to retire it.

In the past year I've seen bloggers disappear faster than planes in the Bermuda Triangle. Two more went down into the graveyard of lost blogs this week, Coptalk and Wet Dreaming. They'll be missed badly. For some...it may be only their writing and daily entertainment, but for others...it will be their friendship.

Ending a blog is a lot like ending a television show or a really good book. Somehow the blogger has become part of the daily lives of her or his readers. When the blog is ended...everyone feels a loss. Gentlemen...you'll both be missed.

I'm Such a Dog

I don't think I've ever mentioned this before...but I'm a dog. Seriously. According to the Chinese Zodiac I'm a dog. Now like my canine counterparts, my brain can focus easily on two items in the world. Food and sex. If I'm not eating, I'd prefer to be humping. However sometimes we don't always get what we want, so rather than eating or humping...I'm typing this up.

Tonight's New Moon marks the celebrating of Chinese New Year. Today begins the year of the rooster...or as I prefer to call it...the year of the cock! Just the name tells me that this is going to be a great year! According to the Zodiac traits, Cocks are capable and talented, and known to go very deep...in their thinking. A cock's emotions can swing from high to low, and although they can be a bit selfish, they are always interesting (I completely agree!). I think I need to meet more cocks. If you know of any cocks...send me a picture and I'll let you know when I'll be available to meet them. I firmly believe that all cocks should be embraced over the next year! If fact, the next cock I see I'm going to give a great big wet kiss just to show how much I care!

Happy New Year!

They Just Suck!

Ok...I've had it. I can't understand how the entertainment industry can force such untalented performers onto the viewing public. So I've decided to create my first celebrities who must disappear list!

Celebrities Who Must Die!

Star Jones

A woman who makes Rush Limbaugh seem intelligent. Sexist, homophobic, single minded, and seriously in need of an attitude adjustment.

Sure...she's made money and a name for herself, but she needs to check her ass into the fat farm and learn to accept diversity and tolerance for a change. She's a sorry excuse for an Ethnic minority.





Paris Hilton

The only thing Paris Hilton is good for is being the wet dream of heterosexual men. No high school diploma, racist, elitist, and really skanky! Her crotch has seen more visitors than Disney World.

She's a freaking investment bank...waiting for the next guy to make his deposit.





Anna Nicole Smith

Moooooooo. Ok...that may be mean, but seriously. She married and shagged an old billionaire, and inherited all his money when he died. Does anyone think she actually loved him? Does anyone think she didn't use liposuction to lose the weight she lost?

Now it may seem like I'm against fat people. I'm not though...I just against greedy women who would rather earn money the hard way...on their backs.





Donald Trump

Any man with an ego that big has to have a penis the size of Crayola crayon! Trump Ice? Trump Tower? Trump Casino? No woman would ever call out his name in ecstasy, so he names everything after himself because it's the only way he can hear his name called out.

Hey Donald...you need fired.





Ashlee Simpson

I actually feel sorry for this poor pathetic untalented misguided girl. It's bad enough she needs to live in her sister's shadow, but her father keeps putting her on stage so she can sing off key for a large audience. The Orange Bowl half time show? Big mistake.


Color her hair back to its original color, put her in school so she can get some marketable skills (like a secretary position), and let the girl have at least a little dignity!



So that's my preliminary list. Who am I forgetting though?

I Got Male!

Yesterday, I received the oddest letter with no return address. Sent from Oakwood, VA 24631, it said:

Dear Patrick,
We were dismayed to learn from your reading your January blog that you have changed your plans and no longer intend to come and stay with us. Thus, we have enclosed window seat bus fare to help you enjoy your journey to your new destination. We hear it's a hell of a place.

with our majestic love,
Caspar
Balthiar
Melichior

Paper clipped to the letter was three sets of money, each totaling $6.00, for a total of $18.


I was actually a bit confused at first. When I read the name Balthiar, I misread it as Balthezar (which I think is a Demon name). Obviously I was wrong in this place, although I did vaguely remember something about saving me a window seat in a January post. It was my posting about the Festival of Three Kings where I made a minor mockery of religion.

So I'm sitting here trying to figure out why Caspar the Friendly Ghost and his two buddies are sending me $18 dollars. Thanks to Google I found out that Caspar is not a ghost at all (well he probably is now since he's been dead for 2000 years), but was actually one of the wise men. I'm assuming the one who sent the Gold.

So why the $18? And then I figured it out. Whoever sent me this was trying to purchase my ticket to hell!!! 6-6-6!!! I get it. But the last time I checked my bible...which was over 20 years ago, I thought the sign of the beast was six hundred sixty six! Does this mean I can expect and additional $648 dollars to be sent to me? If that's the case...could you make that into a money order and make it payable to Columbia Gas of Ohio. Heat isn't cheap this far North, and keeping my butt warm will make it easier for me to bring home dates.

Whoever this person is...my hat is off to you for your perseverance. I don't have a home telephone number, and I don't give my address out freely, but that didn't stop your stalker like tendencies. You were able to track down the correct Patrick Doyle in Cleveland, and send him your hard earned cash. Thanks are in order, and since I don't really know who you are, I can only thank you in this public forum.

Since the tone of your letter potentially suggests that you might be wishing I go to hell a little faster than normal, I figured it was only appropriate that I use your money to insure I go there expeditiously. So thank you...you just bought me a 12 pack of beer.

XOXO
Patrick

Rear Window

Now taking applications:

It's a beautiful day in the gay-borhood,
a beautiful day in the gay-borhood,
won't you be mine,
You look so damn fine!

I'll make you happy,
I guarantee!
If you'll be my sex buddy!

Yeah...it's official...I need laid.

Recently someone was asking me about where to live in the Cleveland area. He's moving up this way and I thought about my neighborhood. Very gay friendly, walking distance to most places, and most importantly...a wealth of entertainment.

I live in a 2 floor row house. This is the view from my bedroom window.
The blue house on the left is where my friends M&J lived. I don't really recall meeting them at a party because I was the alcohol impaired patron of the evening. I was the entertainment. M&J left only 6 months after I moved in. They claim the reason they moved was that they were tired of my dates parking in their driveway. Geeze...1 car and they get all cranky.

The house to the right of that is a former bakery, converted to 3 apartments. The left window is the apartment of a sweet old lesbian and her lovable dog. This woman has been through hell, and still always has nice things to say. She's also the first to know anything that goes on in the rest of the neighbor's lives.

The right side window is a very entertaining gentleman. A schizophrenic who does not medicate nearly enough. Most of the residents try to avoid him, as we're tired of hearing "Mulder" tell us about the alien abductions. The lesbians who live in the yellow house can't stand him. To get on his nerves, they park their car in front of his apartment. He responded by placing a [insert his name]'s parking space sign near the curb. The city didn't like that as much as he thought they would. Probably because he called a tow truck on the lesbian couple.

The lesbian couple got even...by cutting crop circles in his grass while he was out. These two women crack me up, and last summer, they gave me a really sweet gift. I had brought home a new friend, and we had decided to play a very intense game of "Chutes and Ladders" in my bedroom. Of course, I wasn't thinking when I put the lights on that those across the street would have full view into my bedroom. The next day, they bought me a set of curtains, as they said they could see the whole game being played. In fact...they mentioned about how one of us kept going "down, down, down." My guess is those women are more into playing "Deep Sea Diver".

And yes...I have the masturbating neighbor. My first summer in this place, on nearly a weekly basis, I would wake up to a man who resembles Jesus, pulling his pud for hours on end. All the while, listening to classic rock. I honestly don't know what's worse...Jesus pleasuring himself outside my bedroom window, or listening to "Hotel California" at 3AM! No...I do know. Classic rock keeps me awake. Jesus pulling his pud...that's kind of funny.

I do have to say...I think I found the one reason I like winter. It's so cold, this guy can't sit on his porch and take his normal 3 hours to finish what he starts. If he did...well it would probably just freeze off.

Now...don't you want to live in my neighborhood?

Chicken Enchiladas

A little nonsense
now and then
is cherished by
the wisest men.

Roald Dahl

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This is the kind of post that says...I've got nothing. My brain is constipated. I'm not sure if I should discuss the last three first dates I had (all in the last 30 days) or if I should just crawl back in bed and wait for inspiration.

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IT'S GROUNDHOG DAY! That little fucking wanna be prairie dog saw his shadow this morning as supposedly we are going to have 6 more weeks of winter. I say we skin the bastard and make him into a sweater so I can lower my heating bills some! Little shit!

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So I've decided...if I can't beat winter...join it. I'm turning off the heat, putting on my best parka and taking a long walk on the lake. (yes...on the lake. It's freaking frozen. I could walk all the way across to Canada!).

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Of course...maybe I'll just make Chicken Enchiladas instead.

Chicken Enchiladas

2 chicken breasts.
1 onion (chopped)
4 bay leaves
1 teaspoon chopped thyme
1 teaspoon chopped rosemary
1 stick butter
1/2 cup flour
1 can diced jalapeno peppers
1 container of sour cream
10 soft corn tortilla rounds
1 package shredded chedder and jack cheese mix

Simmer the chicken, bay leaves, thyme, rosemary until chicken is fully cooked. Remove chicken, set aside, and strain and reserve broth. Using two forks, shred chicken and place in bowl. Add 1/4 of chopped onions and 1/2 package of cheese. You may add additional diced Jalapeno (hot) or green chilies (mild). Mix well and roll up in corn tortillas. Lay in 13x9 baking dish seam side down.

Sauce:
In a large pot, sautee 3/4 of the onions in the butter. Once onions are cooked add flour. Stir constantly for 1 minute on low heat. Add the reserved chicken broth and the can of jalapeno peppers. Simmer until sauce is reduced in 1/2. Add container of sour cream, mix well and pour sauce over enchiladas. Cover with remaining cheese and bake in over for 40 minutes at 350 degrees.

Simulations

27 more days until my Birthday. Just saying

When I first was diagnosed with Cancer, I started playing The Sims as a way of taking my time up. If you haven't heard of the game...think of it as playing house...but in a virtual environment. You start out with a character (or two), who you need to help find work, help them progress through the job, make them clean the house, make friends, fall in love...etc.

Like I said...you play house. My two Sims, Patrick and Brad Pitt started out together. Now both of them, buff guys, fell in love fairly quickly. Brad, an actor likes showers in the morning and keeping the house neat. Patrick, a computer programmer, liked long baths in the evening and was a slob. Of course...since he was totally a hottie...Brad forgave him for it.

My Sims grew very happy. Now I should say that this game can go on forever, as the object is to make your sims as successful as possible. Brad went on to become a successful movie star while Patrick became a CEO. They lived in a two floor 25 room mansion with a robot maid who cleaned up after Patrick.

It's always easy to see if the friendship was progressing and the sims were happy. All you had to do was look for the "Plus" signs above the Sim's head. Each plus sign indicated happiness. Each minus sign indicated irritation.

I wish we had that in real life. Can you imagine how much easier things would be?

"Have you found Jesus?"(minus sign)
"Can I tell you a secret. I used to fantasize about you so much." (plus sign)
"You're the fattest guy I've ever dated." (major minus sign)
"Rush Limbaugh was arrested for sleeping with a gay black 14 year old prostitute!" (PLUS PLUS PLUS PLUS!!!!)

Instead...we all have to do things the hard way. We flirt, and try to interpret body language, and hope that they are interpreting what we are saying. The problem is that some of us (ok..me) are not very good at interpreting and reading what people really mean. Thus why I usually have no clue that guys will have a crush on me, and have no clue that I'm getting hit on. I need to work on that.


As for The Sims...once my sims started getting better lives than I had...it was time to quit the game.