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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 what amounted to a four hour nap, I woke up at nine this morning and thought, They'd better keep that dog overnight, because I'm not doing this again tomorrow, damn it. I had to take EZ to the vet in Sugar Land today. I don't know why, but for some reason these appointments can only happen in the morning, when it's least convenient for me. I always arrive feeling like baked shit on a Ritz cracker because I don't normally fall asleep until sunrise.

I fed EZ, let her wander outside, crated EZ, fed Rex, let him wander outside, crated Rex, and then I fed myself. I read email, blogs, and various news sites while I ate oatmeal. A headline about a fatal crash on 290 jarred my mind awake. I had to hit the highway in a little while and didn't want to follow that particular trend.

Moments later I was flying down 59 in Jet, Becky's SUV, cursing at other motorists while my co-pilot lazily licked her paw. I glanced at EZ and thought, They'd better keep this dog overnight, because I'm not doing this again tomorrow, damn it.

A vet tech took EZ's temperature, weighed her, and while we waited for the doctor, I thought, They'd better keep this dog overnight, because I'm not doing this again tomorrow, damn it. Then Dr. Bubenik came in to explain EZ's surgery to me. They'd go into her leg, scar everything around her wrist joint, and then implant a metal plate over her wrist, which would fuse to her bone as the scar tissue formed around it. Everything would lock into place and her wrist would be stable afterward so she could walk on it. Complications were explained, as was the after care, and then I signed off on the operation. The procedure would happen tomorrow, so they said they'd keep her overnight, and possibly a few days for observation after that as well. So I asked to say good bye to her, and they let me go to the back where she was crated. EZ stared at me and then bonked her nose on the crate door, as if to say, Bust me out of here, damn it, and let's go home.

After all the snarling and complaining I'd done all morning, tears stung my eyes and busting her out of there was exactly what I wanted to do.

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