Thursday, December 25, 2003

Christmas Day. Whoopee! Not really. I didn't go to sleep until 5:30AM, discussing politics with my dad. I evaluated this tin paper weight made in 1921 he bought at Value Village for him. After watching Antiques Roadshow for the better part of my life, I (admirably) concluded it was worthless. That broke his heart.

I've been bedridden all day. Coughing up pieces of my lung ever so often -- or just plain often -- and too weak/lazy to go get something to eat. Read The Girl with a Pearl Earring. Liked the Pieter the son character. Wanted that blue-eyed adonis to fuck me in an alley like he did Griet ... except with clean hands ... and Trident. Watched Queer Eye for the Straight Guy on my computer. Ross Morrissey is a dreamboat. Mmm ... a made-over former Marine :) ... who can't salsa :(

So as I write this, I lay sick and frying. Burning up like Chaka Khan at Studio 54 ... pre-Botox, perm, and saline *assumably*.

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