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April 2011


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


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.


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


maine AIDS alliance

global AIDS alliance


AIDS foundation houston

bering omega community services

frannie peabody center

Timothy's hair by Larry Henderson Hair Design.

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boy in the box

Rumor had it that Tyson was crate trained, but I think Rumor was sadly mistaken. (Demi, Bruce, and Ashton should have a talk with that girl about lying.) I came home from running errands a few nights ago and found that the mattress in Tyson's crate had exploded. EZ had long ago started the job, Tyson merely finished it off. I can't blame him. There must be nothing more dull than sitting in a crate with nothing to do. But, if he was free to roam in my absence, it could've been my sofa that exploded, or he could've checked out the stove, flipped a knob, and my house might've exploded, and that wouldn't have been fun for any of us.

So I've added crate training to Tyson's "to do" list. The first thing was to move Tyson's crate right next to Rex's. Rex loves his crate. In fact, every dog that drops by loves Rex's crate. As soon as I moved Tyson's crate, he walked over, sniffed it, and then climbed into Rex's crate. It was a start. I tossed a few treats into Tyson's crate. Rex ran in and gobbled them up. Tyson's ears went up, as if to say, What the hell? He ran into his crate, forced Rex out, and sniffed everywhere in hopes of finding a treat. I praised him and tossed in a few treats. The ears went up again, this time obviously saying, Hey! This thing's paying out big time!

The crates are between my desk and my bed, both places where I spent lots of time. Because of this, his crate has become a good place to hang out while I'm working or sleeping. Now he'll go in there to lay down while I'm at my desk and he'll get a treat and lots of praise. And when I go to bed Rex is crate adjacent, so he has company and can see that the whole crate thing is no big deal.

This morning I got up, let Rex out of his crate, let Tyson out of his crate, and then picked up the collars. I put Rex's collar on, and then put Tyson's collar on, and then--Guinness? Guinness had a collar on, but what was she doing in my apartment? Then I remembered that Becky and Mr. Becky went to Alabama today, and must have let Margot and Guinness into my apartment while I was in a coma. I fed Rex and Tyson, fixed my breakfast, and when I came upstairs Margot was curled up in Rex's crate, fast asleep.