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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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one of those days

Ever make faces at your boss when his/her back is turned? I found myself doing that often today, because for most of the day The Big H was being a big whiner. Then I realized that The Big H is a baby and wouldn't remember much of anything, so I openly sneered and blew raspberries in front of her. She laughed, which was good because it stopped the whining, but it didn't make the deviant within me very happy.

No matter what I did this morning, Hanley wouldn't sleep. She was yawning, cranky, and rubbing her eyes, but kept fussing and lifting her head from my shoulder whenever I tried to rock her to sleep. I put her down, which instantly sets The Big H to her automatic scream mode, figuring she'd cry for a minute or two and tire herself out. When I picked her up again her eyes fell shut and I thought, Score! But after a minute of rocking her eyes popped open again, her left fist shot out and crashed into my jaw, and she lifted her head from my shoulder. I decided she might be hungry, so I checked the daily log and saw that she'd had breakfast an hour ago. Guess not. But what the hell, I'd try it anyway. I warmed up a bottle, added cereal, and aimed it at her open and screaming maw. She deflected the bottle with her left arm and turned her head to the right. I moved her left arm and her right hand immediately swatted the bottle away. The kid has excellent hand/eye coordination and I predict she'll have an excellent career as a soccer goalie. I finally got the bottle past her flailing mitts, but she clamped her lips shut tight and her head practically revolved completely backwards on her neck.

"It's as if you're not hungry at all, Hanley," I said.

We returned to the nursery. Then I remembered a memo that was sent to me last weekend while The Big H was on a business trip to Boston with the C.O.O. and C.E.O. of Hanley Inc. I got to stay behind and make sure Calvin, McGrady, and Lloyd all did their jobs. They did. But Lloyd took his Chief of Security position a little too seriously and shredded some documents in the office. Luckily, they weren't vital and he wasn't fired. Anyway, the day before they returned, the C.E.O. sent me a message that Hanley appeared to have a serious problem. Concerned, I asked what kind of problem and was told that The Big H is addicted to sucking on burp cloths. The C.O.O. said that they're like her version of crack. We now call them "crack rags."

Remembering this, I covered my shoulder with a burp cloth and Hanley dove for it. Almost immediately after she started gumming it she fell asleep. I transferred her to her crib and crept out of the nursery, perfectly happy to be her enabler.