It’s Saturday night. There are parties to go to, drinks to be spilled, hands to slide up skirts, and lampoil burning in studios. But it is also a night for lonelyhearts. For lonelyhearts, Saturday night is like christmas to an orphan- it turns the solitary number 1 into an exclamation point.
So, while we clean our brushes, go out and get drunk and felt up, we leave the floor to one of the loneliest people we know:
I’m hot, I’m so very hot. You look at me and see how HOT I am. Have an egg- fresh from my body onto your plate. They are also Hot. I like planaria and grubs and so do you. and I am HOT. Hey, i know what you two are going to do in there. Gottagetlaid, gottagetlaid. CHICKEN LADY LOVES LIFE!
Well, tadalafil at last the flaming bricks of poo have done sailing through my window. It is probably a wise policy to keep company with those who basically like and respect you. I have freely dispensed this advice to others, sickness and now I should heed it myself. There must be people out there with Standards! The ideal match for me would like art, makeup, mirrors, martinis, and sarcasm. I need a gay roommate! Why did I not think of this before?!
The replies so far run the usual C-list gamut of desperate men looking for dates, and some actual people with rooms to let. One of these called himself “journeymanpoet” and offered not so much a room, but a “lifestyle change” involving no meat, sex, drink, or drugs. Why he contacted *me* is beyond ridiculous and I pointed that out and wished him luck. Mr. Crunchy then wrote BACK to me to implore me to consider allowing him to “emancipate me from my cynicism”. LORDY, is the internet fun! I offered to emancipate him from his weedy gonads and suggested he add “no Wit” to his list, and he has fortunately not contacted me again.
The piece de resistance was the mail I received this morning, from an actual gay man, with a gorgeous and roomy house, who used a charming turn of phrase to ask me if my listed rent was fixed. I replied that I never thought a gay man would ask me if I was “tight”! This match made in our own bitter and well-dressed heaven, is only disturbed by the fact that the location is not convenient for me. Sigh. Maybe I will still angle for an invitation for mousse- he has already begun to tell me about his love life.