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NOH8

April 2011

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my (our) books

Fool for Love When You Don't See Me

Someone Like You I'm Your Man

He's The One It Had To Be You

The Mammoth Book of New Gay Erotica Best Gay Erotica 2007

Best Gay Love Stories: New York City Best Gay Love Stories 2005

Three Fortunes In One Cookie The Deal

contact

If you have any of the above books and would like them signed, mail them to:

P.O. Box 131845, Houston, TX., 77219.

Please include three dollars for return postage.

Send email to timothyjlambert@gmail.com


Warning: This blog may contain homosexuals which in the states of California and Maine have been alleged to destroy the sanctity of marriage. Read at your own risk.



Jon%20DeMichaelQuantcast


recommended courses of action


Scout's Honor Rescue is an all-breed, no-kill, Not-For-Profit 501(c)(3) animal rescue organization committed to bringing courage, character and compassion to Houston's homeless pet population and making a positive difference in the lives of these stray and abandoned animals and the Houston community as a whole. 100% of every dollar donated goes directly to saving the life of a homeless animal.

Scouts Honor Rescue Inc.

locally known

join(RED)

maine AIDS alliance

global AIDS alliance

UNAids

AIDS foundation houston

bering omega community services

frannie peabody center


Timothy's hair by Larry Henderson Hair Design.


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just my imagination


Becky, Mr. Becky, and their nephew, Aaron, left today (Tuesday) to drive to Alabama to inter That Old Woman's ashes and have a memorial service with their family. I stayed behind to watch over The Compound (This turret needs cleaning.) and take care of the dogs. Earlier this evening I was playing with the dogs in the driveway and stubbed my big toe on an uneven piece of concrete. It was a stub and scrape combo, degree of difficulty 2.8, which left a flap of flesh and pulled back my toenail enough to make it bleed. It was one of those wounds that didn't hurt until after I'd limped to the bathroom to clean and disinfect it. Now I'm left alone to worry that it will become infected while I sleep, I'll grow feverish and delirious as the days go by, I'll fall into a coma, and then Mr. Becky will come home on Sunday to find my body prone on the floor and my face half eaten because the dogs were hungry.

What, me dramatic?

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