So the replies to our ad in search of an attractive and emotionally competent roommate have been pouring in. My favorite by far is a fellow who is coming over tonight who swears he is “hotter than Lionel’s nut huggin’ panties on an LA night”. The mind chafes!
I am not sure that I will live to make this appointment, however, as satan himself has taken to dumping snow onto Boston. But i am not worried, I believe the Patriot Act defines an excess of weather as “eco-terror”.
In other news, people that aren’t me are still dreadfully tedious. I take care to remind you all that the poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being able to see himself and others, as he wishes. So thought Baudelaire, anyway. I implore you to employ wit as though your brain were more than just a vegetable capable of computing your taxes. Don’t make small art. And above all, Make Life Beautiful!
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.