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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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break-out (of my mind)


People sometimes wonder why I'm single. Here's an example of why.

Last night, after dinner, Becky dragged got me out of the house again. She had a non-dog related mission to fulfill. My mouse had recently died, and I was using an old Apple mouse, which did the job, but it was a basic one-click mouse and I'm used to having right and left-click options when I'm wasting time working. Because she's wonderful, Becky had bought me a new Apple mouse while she was at the Galleria. However, it was just a jazzier version of the basic one-click Apple mouse. Nice, but the old one I was using did the same job.

The cable down again yesterday (Which seems to happen way too much, and I'm on the verge of calling Time-Warner to voice my opinions about that, and how they're going to have to start prorating the bill pretty soon if this keeps happening.), and since we couldn't get online, Becky decided it was time to visit the Galleria to exchange the mouse. And, while we were there, I could finally use the Aveda gift certificate her mother gave me last Christmas. This should give you an idea of how long it's been since I've been to the Galleria; a place where thousands of people converge and wander around under one roof sucking down the recylced air through their open maws and ignoring their screaming children after they've driven their oversized vehicles aimlessly and recklessly through the garages while trying to find a place to park.

Guess who doesn't like the Galleria?

So I went along. Why not? We only had an hour before it closed. An hour out of the house won't kill me, rihgt? I got to drive us there in Becky's car. I don't own a car. Never have. Never needed one. Sometimes driving scares me. Actually, other people driving scares me. My mother's a school bus driver. The best way to learn how to drive is to chauffer my mother, who's not above grabbing the Oh Shit handle, pumping an imaginary brake on the passenger side and yelping if you drive above the speed limit. That's why I passed my driving test on the first attempt. And that's also part of the reason I've never had a car.

I'm an excellent driver. (Dad used to let me drive real fast on the driveway, since he wasn't a bus driver.) However, sometimes when I'm going somewhere I start to have panic attacks. Halfway to the Galleria I started to feel nauseated and thought about going home. Then I had one of those Oh, my god, I'm driving moments, and inside my head I heard Karen Black: "I don't know how to fly this plane!" Actually, it was our writing partner, Jim doing Karen Black, which always makes me giggle. I cracked the window and forged onward, because the sooner we got to the Galleria, the sooner I'd be off the road. Usually once I get to where I'm going the bullshit in my head stops and I'm fine again.

However, once we got to the Galleria the panic attack resumed because now I was in an enclosed place with thousands of annoying people. It was Saturday, so the place was packed, and as my stomach churned I thought, How the hell did I ever work here for a year? Now the objective was to go to Apple, go to Aveda, and get the hell out of there. The Apple Store was jamming, but the guy who did our exchange and found us a new mouse, Michael, was really cool. He had a tiny bottle of tabasco sauce clipped to his belt, which Becky and I found highly amusing and I can't wait to see which one of us uses that detail in a story first. At Aveda I realized I left my gift card in the car (DOH!), so I zipped back to the garage to fetch it. While I was there, I moved the car so we could make a faster getaway. Back at Aveda, I snagged some shaving cream, which I highly recommend. It's very soothing, moisturizing and really softens whiskers. Plus, it smells good. The guy who processed my sale was really cute, which made forget all about what a nutcase I am and that I was at the Galleria. He was sweet, had really cool hair, a nifty nose and a good sense of humor. He was also way to young for me to even think about hitting on him, but he was very nice and a pleasant distraction from my mania.

Back to the car. I was driving again (I mean, if you have control issues, it's better to drive, right?) and the traffic on Westheimer was insane, as usual. San Felipe was impassable due to construction, so we were forced to crawl along while I yelled at everyone around us. R.E.M. was in the CD changer and "Everybody Hurts" started playing at one point. While waiting at a traffic light, we stared balefully out the windows as the song played and I thought about how funny it would be to suddenly get out of the car and start singing while walking on the hoods of the cars around us. But then the light changed, so I didn't.

And then we arrived back home, safe and sound. And my new mouse is lovely. Thanks, Becky!

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