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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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scar tissue


Bless me, readers, for I have stopped smoking. It has been two months and--uh, what day is this? The fourteenth? Hmm...erm...carry the twelve...it's been two months and nine days since I've smoked a cigarette. I still crave cigarettes every now and then. Whenever I'm typing, editing photographs, painting, or doing anything remotely creative, I want to smoke. I covet people's cigarettes when I walk past them while they're smoking and I smell the rich, tobacco goodness wafting from Flavor Country into my face. I don't why people say that's disgusting. It makes me want a pefect stranger to inhale and mash their mouth against mine so they can blow the smoke directly into my lungs. Male or female, hot or not, I don't care. I'll suck and you blow.

But I haven't fallen off the wagon yet. Whenever temptation rears its ugly head I only have to think these four words: It will kill you. Or: And then you'll die. Or even: Your lung will collapse. But never: Who the hell cares?

Mostly, it's the thought of ending up in the hospital again with another collapsed lung that keeps me from smoking again. I do feel better now. That helps, too. I'm driven to be healthier, now, and have been going to the gym as much as possible. If I'm going to be addicted to something it might as well be the gym. I weighed myself the other day. Since I quit smoking I've gained seventeen pounds, which brings me up to 167 pounds. I've always fluctuated between 155 and 165, so this is the first time I've ever surpassed 165. Those two pounds make me very happy. The fact that I can wear shirts now without it feeling as though they're peeling off my skin makes me happy, too. The nerve damage in my chest seems to be healing. There's still numbness, but defintely not as severe as before. You know how it feels when your foot was asleep and the tingling stops, but your foot still feels a bit numb? Transfer that feeling to your left boob and that's how I feel.

scars

I still have the scars. I doubt they'll ever go away. You can click the above photo to view it larger and see them. Becky helpfully tagged the scars for your viewing pleasure. If you're compelled to count my ribs, keep it to yourself.

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