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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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heroes


I arrived in Portland, Maine, at 11 PM on Saturday. All day I'd been preparing for cold weather and when I stepped outside of the terminal for a cigarette, I thought, This isn't so bad. Then a light breeze kicked up and I screamed. Later, in the rental car office, the rental car dude asked, "Did you hear the latest weather report?"

"It's cold outside?" I guessed.

He grinned and said, "There's a storm coming in tomorrow night. We're supposed to get eight to twelve inches of snow. Enjoy your stay."

Sure enough, when I woke up on Monday there was lots of snow on the ground and flakes flying though the air. It snowed all day. My parents didn't work because of the storm, so we spent most of the day playing cards and sharing stories. I saw my brother briefly when he stopped by to borrow some propane, as his furnace decided to die. My brother's always had interesting luck. If you've ever read a story and thought That plot twist is too contrived. That would never happen at that moment, it's probably happened to my brother.

I visited a friend who's in the hospital. One of the reasons for my instant urge to visit the homeland is that my friend was recently admitted because of complications from Lyme disease. This is someone who's always been like a back-up mother to me. A very close friend, someone I adore very much, and it was very difficult to see how badly affected she's become. Oftentimes I come home for a visit and, in certain situations, or around certain people, I almost feel like a kid again. It's a fleeting feeling that can happen when one of the three people who are allowed call me "Timmy." (You are not allowed.) Or, if I'm walking through a forest of pine trees on a cold winter day I'm instantly transported to when I was a kid, building a lean-to shelter as a fort in the woods behind our house. Seeing my friend in her hospital bed, looking pale and weak, connected to tubes and machines, I felt like a child again, thinking, This isn't right. She's supposed to be invincible. I sat next to her, held her hand, and asked what she had to do to get out of there.

I wish Rex was here.

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