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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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in the backyard

I have this routine now; River hangs out with me in my apartment until I go to bed around 5 AM, which is when he hangs out in the backyard for two hours, until Becky's husband wakes up at 7 AM. He has fun exploring and I figure the early morning hours are best for him to be outside since it's the coolest time of day.

Anyway, last night/this morning, I let him out and then got watching a program on the History channel about Oppenheimer and the making of the atomic bomb. In the middle of it, I heard barking and thought, Maybe he wants to come back inside. I looked out the window and saw him barking at Becky's back door. (Hmm, that sounds dirty.) At first I was jealous, wondering why he wanted to be in Becky's house, and not mine. Then I figured he wanted to play with Margot and Guinness, and maybe he was wondering why nobody else was awake. I watched some more, and realized he was barking at the Russian Olive bush next to the back door.

Oh, crap, I thought. He must've found a rat, or something.

I went out to make sure he was okay, that he wasn't about to get attacked by a rabid rodent, and found him hovering over a little bitty 'possum. The opossum was curled on itself and hissing at River, as if to say, "Back off, bitch! Mind your business!" So I crated River and then tried to figure out why the opossum was just sitting there, and not running for cover. Did he fall from a tree, or the power line between Becky's house and mine? Was he hurt? Did he eat a flower from the nasty oleander, now dying a slow poisonous death? I hovered over him for about a half hour, trying to assess the situation. I didn't see any blood, no obvious injuries. I gently prodded him with a broom handle and he just glared at me with a "Hey now, why are you doing that?" expression.

Finally, he looked around, tipped his hat and waddled off into the Russian Olive bush, none the worse for wear. I was left standing there, wondering what the hell that was all about. Now I'm convinced that there's a family of opossum living in Becky's attic. It's like a frickin' Disney movie around here.

I let River out of his crate, and he ran around the Russian Olive bush, trying to find the opossum. In between revolutions, he peed five times on the spot where the opossum had been. Then he licked my hand, thanking me for saving us all from the opossum, and trotted off to the front yard to poop.