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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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after the rain


Greg left the other day and then the rain came, cold and dampness taking over and washing the day with gray. A friend sent an email, wondering how things were going, if Becky was feeling any better, and if I'd escaped the creeping crud. I replied that things weren't any less harried around the Compound and that Becky is still stressed beyond belief. I also stupidly said that I'd somehow managed to avoid the creeping crud. Even though I knocked on wood after I said it, I woke up today and felt the itchy crud creeping through my sinuses and crawling over my eyeballs.

It's all EZ's fault. EZ's a dog whose bladder and bowels were most likely forged from the strongest steel in Detroit. She had diarrhea yesterday, so I promptly called the vet in case it was a sign of infection. After receiving new medications and administering them, I watched her like a hawk for signs that she needed to visit the flower beds for a little relief. She slept all day. Later that evening we crated Becky's dogs and I brought her over to Becky's house to shuffle around and explore while we shuffled cards and played progressive rummy. She explored, slept, and still showed no signs of being a dog who had to go anywhere, let alone go to the bathroom. Still, she hadn't peed or pooped in twelve hours, so I took her outside. We stood in the rain and our conversation went something like this:

Me: It's cold and wet. You could be peeing.
EZ: ...
Me: You could be pooping.
EZ: No thanks. I'd rather stare at these ferns.
Me: Come on, EZ. Just pee.
EZ: ...
Me: My feet are getting wet.
EZ: ...
Me: Would you just pee, damn it!
EZ: Ferns pretty.

We repeated that same scene shortly after three in the morning and I finally decided it would be better for her to pee or poop in her crate than for me to get pneumonia. Around nine this morning I woke up and heard her crying and thought, Ah ha! Now she has to go. I dragged myself out of bed, carried her outside, set her down in the flower bed and could almost hear her saying, Ferns pretty for fifteen minutes. Cursing, I put her back in her crate, took some Airborne, and went back to bed. Now all I want is matzoh ball soup.

EZ still hasn't pooped.

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