Coffee Moment.

Sat at the counter - wood worn, warped, distorted from the contact of a million fairies - I looked down at my porcelain coffee cup, cream swirled at the top, my brow furrowed my face blank and dead.

Marlon looked at me and asked, "What are you looking at?"

"Isn't it obvious - I am looking into the abyss." I state dryly.

He takes a gulp of his coffee - hand slides across my back tenderly smoothly. "Be careful or that abyss will be looking back."

I look up at him and grin, "Too late."

Hetro/Homo Blues.

Been spending a lot of time with that Marlon character. He seems to have taken a fancy to me however there is always a fucked up side to everything. He claims to be straight - and I mean straight straight. And yet, he screws my emotions by screwing my ass at his convenience. And yeah, I am complaining.

You see, I am far too set in my ways to change now and I am not the cooing, sniveling pansey of yore - oh no, Dear Reader. I have been burned by far too many so called straights in the past. You know the score - we are all fags and we want what all fags want and the bottom line to that is love. Simple love.

But, that it seems is unattainable. Especially down here in ol' Mexico the motives of such characters are always - always - ulterior. Either it being money or clothes or drugs, the time you shell out for these fucks are never for your enjoyment but solely theirs. And what and how much they can get out of it.

Sigh.

Well, the last couple of nights have been visiting straight bars and me flipping the beer bill whilst Marlon and his cronies cruise for broads and drink up my wallet. Sure the evening ends with Marlon banging the bajeebus out of me - but it is all so empty. Worse than a one night stand because I do harbor romantic feelings for the boy. And he realizes this all the while beating his chest claiming his heterosexuality.

So, last night we walked the crumbling ruins of Avenida Mariscal and I finally cut the string - letting him know how I feel emotionally and financially about our friendship. He hesitated a little but finally agreed. We really have nothing in common. At the corner by my flat we shook hands and parted.

I feel nothing except slight sadness - not for losing him as a friend but that it had to be the way it was.

Son cosas de la vida...

Update: Later that evening to writing this post...

Muthuhfuckin' Marlon had the nerve - the downright audacity - to come by my place this evening with his new weasel faced bitch in tow. Some bobby soxed catholic school girl bubbly cunt named Zelma! Zelma??!! "Just stopping by to say hi and see if you are all right." He says.

All the while me thinking of ways of going Ed Gein on their asses! Ugh! Fuck! Death where is thy sting, you lazy ass?!

I'm not bitter, though. Nope. On the contrary, I wish him the best. Okay, okay - I wish him to catch some lingering painful disease. Why?!!! Why do I open up to these characters only to have a barbed knife thrust at first chance into my scarred and withered heart?

You realize I must do something erratically wacky to compensate for this act of random evil...

Stay tuned, Dear Reader, stay tuned....

A Few Days Back.

Climate so insidiously hot - I wake in a pool of sweat. Fan don't work - spins but don't work. I prepare a cuppa joe and watch the morning news. Click on the laptop and start on that damn manuscript. What a monster it is but seems to have taken life of it's own and writes itself.

Late night invited my friend Enrique to the Chihuahua State Fair and he invited a guy named Marlon. Marlon - tall, fair skinned metrosexual type who was utterly shocked to find I was a homosexual - stated sternly his passion for women, understand. I let that slide and enjoyed the evening anyway.

The fair was a bust - rickety carnival rides, shyster gaming booths, and over priced grotesque foods of all sorts. Flies danced their dance in swarms. Hit a couple of the rides but too scary for my nelly ass, I suppose. So us three decided to return downtown and just waste the rest of the evening drinking.

Getting lit, my evil fag intentions were clear in the fact that I planned to seduce fair Marlon in my own way. After the bars closed, said goodnight to Enrique and ushered Marlon to my flat for a nightcap of martinis and whiskey. Nothing. Just talked. Which was okay with me - these things must be done delicately so as not to harm the spell. Good night, Marlon - see you next time.

Next time was manana in which Marlon took it upon himself to come over for dinner and while we sat there watching Cloverfield he blurted out if I had any porn. But of course, fair lad - but of course.

Slipped the DVD in and with one movement the boy flung his Armani clothes to the floor and began stroking his impressive member. Now, this is the guy that stated with a beating of chest that he loved women of all classes, right? Anyways, I took Marlon's suggestion and gave him a little head with gusto. Had to make a good first impression, you know what I'm saying? So, the boy gushed all over my blanket and bid me a good one.

I sat in my darkened room going over my manuscript - Miles Davis be-bop wailing over the stereo and pondered my future with this kid. Slowly, I decided - slowly.

Next day, William Wiggins decided to make the journey across the frontier and spent the afternoon bar hopping. At Bar Olympico - J-Town's notorious daddy bar - two old vultures cooed and spewed all over my young friend much to his chagrin. Returned to my flat William and I and spent an hour wasslin' on my bed. The boy is dumb as a brick but so pneumatic in the hips. Willy returned stateside and I prepared a nice plate of stir fried veggies and a glass of Merlot.

Marlon decided to pay me a visit again and invited me to the bars of ProNaf - the high end of Juarez. Sure - why not? First we went to Pockets - a swanky billiards pub that reminds me of any straight pool hall Stateside. Hi-fives and back slapping amongst the boys and bored twinkling smiles of their girls. Bad service from the waiters so onward to the massive barn called Ole! Ole!

Ten peso caguamas and good music. Marlon and I sat in the VIP section and tried to work off a bottle of whiskey that I had purchased but it was to big for the two of us. Luckily, a few of Marlon's friends began to filter in and the time was a drunken spree of laffs and dancing. I tell you with these Mexican nationals, the alcohol really brings out the fag in them. Two Ambercrombie and Fitch clones began their moves on the only American in the joint as Marlon cruised the local ladies. More hotties began talking with me in a come hither way and I just thought how much I love this country.

As all good things, the joint closed and shit faced as all get out Marlon and I hitched a ride with some broad that knew Marlon - speeding rapidly to his house bought free and gratis by his daddy. Grabbing my hand, Marlon flung me to the bed and kissed with such passion that it hurt. Clothes were ripped off and flung about, erections exposed and then Marlon passed out.

Yup. That's it. You read right. I lay next to this naked Adonis snoring ever so lightly with frustrated passion. Ah, what the hell, I thought. I ain't no lascivious creep - I put my arm around him and dosed myself.

Round 5am I was awoken by Marlon's half assed attempt to make out but he just fell back in with Morpheus. I dressed, kissed him on the forehead and quietly left the building. Stumbling home in the gray dawn of intoxication I angrily loathed that fucker but it quickly passed. Home crawled into my bed inhabited by ghosts and passed out.

William woke me at 11am and could tell I was hungover and in no mood for any shit. But my long time friend smoothed me out with his beautiful erection and afterwards an ice cream from around the corner. Yes, though I sometimes more than less treat him like crap - William does have his wonderful moments. Leaving around 4pm - I bid Willy adios and worked a little more on my manuscript. That evening I spent some time alone at The Yankee Bar - a convenient dive around the corner from my place thinking of what I should do. It seems I have spending most of my time in bars and not on the things at hand - whatever they may be. What do you do in life when you have no goal - no direction. I mean, I am not speaking in a destructive kind of way - just in a free kind of way with out malice. Hmmm....

Next day, spent with Marlon - he thinking I am angry with him but nah, not one of those bitter fags to hold a grudge - life is too short and fun for that shit. We talked ate burritos and ran into a young girl that knew Marlon. Sitting on the steps of the Cathedral and eating ice cream we joked and laughed. But, I wasn't feeling it I wanted to go back home and write write write. And so I did. Saying goodbye to Marlon and Zelma, I walked into the scorching afternoon sun to do what I had to do...and I did.

Rinkadinkadoo!

My life - like the undulating balls of an ancient pedophile - swing in odd directions.

In a wacky fit of strangulating depression, just a few days ago I was all up on selling all my shit and hitting the road like some cock sucking Kerouac character, by God. However, the past two days have been a literal joy.

After months - months, goldarnit! - of spending my time alone and paranoid in one homeless shelter after another, of doing nothing but waiting. Waiting for something to happen. And it has.

To put it simply - I have been enjoying myself. Coming into another form, changing, metamorphosing into a better and more caring person. And I tell you - I like it. I like me!

The last two days have been hanging out with friends - not alone as my usual old self prefers - but with characters I like - going to the movies and clubs and bars with them and actually prefering thier company over solitude. All that shit you fucks take for granted. Ahhhh - so nice.

I have made a acquaintance with an old friend named Enrique R. and he is just so cool, you dig what I mean? We have been drinking together, dancing at The Closet Club, and just having the most interesting conversations. He is all I need in a friend. And through him I have been meeting others like him - no more junkies and thieves and male prostitutes and conniving losers. Perhaps this positive path that I am on will set me straight - become the person I used to be and liked before I left Los Angeles and became an expat.

Well - cool. Tonight Enrique and I along with Jorge and Rosie are attending the Chihuahua State Fair and it promises to be a real hoot. Will write a report manana...

Wee Willie Winkie.

Went over to the States to check my mail and get online for awhile, I suppose. Ran into an old friend - he of William Wiggins by name and legend. Palled around and the youngster came up with the rockin' good idea to go to Trixxx after lunch of Philly Cheese steaks coz we both were hungry and horny with both ideas pointing out, swinging around, and coming back full circle.

At Trixxx, El Paso's finest in skanky porno establishments, William and I curtailed to a booth wherein I went Caligula on his ass with the lad all a-moanin' and a-squirmin' all nasty like to a quivering climax. We did this twice you unnerstand cause I put five in the video machine and we had to use up all the minutes, see?

So, dripping with sweat and nuts squeaky clean we shot back downtown and ran across the border to J-Town so's William could buy a pair of cheap contacts from some unethical optometrist. At one office, the good doctor put down his vaudeville act and examined my boy and charged twenty five for two pair of lenses.

"Come back in an hour." The doctor breathed, sweating in that infernal heat of the Great Desert.

To pass time, William and I hurried to Bar Buen Tiempo for a few brew and had a pretty decent time. But, the goofy kid went all ga-ga over my bar wench friend Rosie and I had to hose the fucker down with more liquor. Luckily hunger had won over and we decided to eat. Not before stopping to retrieve Williams lenses and then returning to my pad to put them in.

Just like history to repeat itself - the ordeal became a Three Stooges slap fest as I tried to help him slip those fuckers onto his googling eyes. Once done, frustrated - I threw the boy on the bed, stripped him of his dry goods, popped in a porn and sweated up a storm.

After that slurp-n-suck, we dressed and walked over to Los Azulejos - a little restaurant with the best barbacoa ever! Gobbled till we wobbled back to bar Buen Tiempo where as William deteriorated into a smitten fool with Rosie again. They coo-ed and giggled at each other like over-heated 3rd graders and it was way too pat. Luckily, William had to leave on accounta curfew and we said goodbyes and made a date Stateside for Friday to check out some movies.

I stayed at the bar and flirted with this one Mexican hottie while Rosie confided in me that William wasn't really her type and not to bring him to the bar again. I mean - really - how dramatic!Sat and whiled the hours away chatting with various friends coming and going out of the bar until my own fatigue caught up to me and I went home to sleep a drunken sleep.

lone.

Had a dinner date at 5:30pm with good friend Scott Goodgame and his girl, Yulan. However, Scott botched it by being ripping drunk for the past three days and was pretty gone by time Yulan and I found him lying in a filthy vacant house. Too bad - wanted to treat the two for a fancy-schmancy dinner on account that Monday the two will be moving from El Paso to the wilds of Wisconsin and to better pastures. Had to settle for the buffet at Golden Corral. Man, I tell you there were some obese heavyweights at that restaurant wolfing down the grub hand over fist.

After saying solemn goodbyes, hopped a taxi and shot back to Mexico where I had a kinda date with this cat Eduardo - I say kinda because it was set up enthusiastically by that Mexican yentle Rosie, the barmaid at Buen Tiempo.

I hate set up dates - rather have chaos take its course, you know. So, I roll in three hours late and give a performance of sorries and pardons for my tardiness. Eduardo seemed to be somewhat perturbed but I couldn't give a rat's ass - I just ordered a beer and smeared on the charm.

After Rosie got off work, the three of us went to a crappy male strip joint and I acted like a complete cold fucker to Eduardo just to drop the subtle hint that I ain't interested. So, I got drunk too and after the first tired stripper we strolled over to that new joint I like called Noas.

Once there I was hit on by a hottie and Rosie and Eduardo sat sullen and looked down their noses at my trick - fuck them both! I am a free person and I am not interested in Eduardo's faggoty unattractive person. I would really have liked to spend time with the hottie - Daniel Santos, he says his name was - even though he was drunk and confided he lived on the streets. (I sure can pick 'em, right?)

After the disco closed and saying goodnight to Rosie, I walked Eduardo to the corner of 16th de Septembre and Avenida Francisco Villa where in, now get this, Eduardo all of a sudden was moving to Monterrey. Idiot! Does he think I am some sappy queer that will plead for his forgiveness and the comfort of his embracing busom? I just shook his hand and bid him a safe journey and cut home.

Why do these bitches think it is so easy to switch love on and off? I got to get to know the fool first and then maybe - just maybe - I might want to be with him an a serious level. But then again - I like to be alone - I have more kicks that way...

Alcohol makes everything okay.

Sat in the bar scoping out the few hotties that sat around the old wooden counter. Some sullen and alone as only faggots can be, others in animated conversations with friends or tricks. Each of us had the all mighty caguama in front of us. I was feeling it - being my third one. I swear I am becoming an alcoholic.

The waitress and friend, Rosie - only cunt I ever had cared about - pointed out that Carlos, my flavor of the week was standing just outside the rotted swinging double doors - waiting. Waiting to talk with me. I uttered that it was a public bar and he could come inside if he wanted to talk. You see, we had an argument a couple of days ago and I suppose he thought I would be a simpering faggot squirming back to him for forgiveness. How little he knows this cold imperious homo, right?

So, he's standing out in the dust and the smog with the honking night traffic when finally Rosie beckons him to come inside. Meekly Carlos sits next to me - we shake hands. The wonderful thing about alcohol is that it has a tendency of making things better. We talked and drank and shot a few rounds of pool - all was okay again. As a fact, after I left the bar and stood in the lurking shadows of the dark street - Carlos followed me, I had the intention of going home alone. But looking into those beautiful brown eyes with the thick lashes - What the fuck?, I thought.

Back at my trap, Carlos was garrulous - going on about his wife and kid, family, general life of his.

"You gonna stay the night here - or you wanna go home?" I asked. "I am tired and want to sleep."

He optioned to stay and I commanded that he sleep in his boxers. Peeling off each others clothes we lay on the coverlet entwined like hibernating pythons. Kisses in the night turned into a massage. Rolled onto my stomach, Carlos smoothed away much needed tension - had to admit - the boy can give a mean massage. I reach up and brush against his erection in his boxers.

"Que es eso?" (What is this?) I say jokingly.

"Si sabes." (You know.) He smiles in the dark.

My boxers are pulled so slowly halfway down my legs and with saliva applied, Carlos slides in. He grunts and puffs lunging and thrusting into me before he yanks himself out and shoots his semen onto my ass. He plops down onto the bed next to me - still drunk out of his mind. My buzz still buzzing. Laughter. Pecks on the forehead and cheeks. Arms wrap around smooth brown frame.

We shower and dry and lay quiet in the warm darkness under the noise of the ceiling fan. Suddenly, Carlos bolts up and runs to the restroom and vomits loudly and abundantly into the toilet. Poor drunken kid.

He mentions it would be better if he went home and after borrowing taxi fare - we dress and I walk him to the taxi stand making a date to see him Saturday afternoon for a movie. In the musty warmth of the night, I stroll back to my my flat realizing I really am starting to care about that guy...

Hola, mis Amigos!

I have been slacking at this blog - I know, I know. But I have been face first in editing, re-editing, writing and screaming at in desperation my book. True, I have been going out - doing the usual crap that I usually do...crappy. But, for the most part I have been writing.

Why for the re-write when I had so gloatingly stated that publication was just around the corner?

"Too wacky." Was one publications critique.

"More pages." Another letter stated.

"More descriptive."

And so on. So, with wine bottle on one side and joints on the other - I have been pounding away unrelentlessly at that fucker. The book I mean.

Private life - in a nut shell? Been trolling Bar Buen Tiempo, been breaking a couple of hearts, taking rent boys home at wee hours of the night. What do you want me to say?

So, shaddap and settle down - I'll try to post more often. Though that book has been draining me literately - I will try harder...