Shadow Shot Sunday

Honolulu, HI.  A lazy morning in Alika's living room.

                     

                                                    

                                                          

                                                       

Shadow Shot Sunday

Dining!

Jack Dempsey's.  New Orleans, LA.  On Poland Avenue, way out in the Bywater. 

Get the onion rings and a schooner of beer, of course.  Then get a big plate of something fried.  The frog's legs were delicious.  Even for breakfast the following morning.  But next time I'm getting the fried oyster platter.

                                              
That's a scoop of crab and shrimp stuffing on top.  Just to keep things interesting.  I love this place.

Happy Halloween

I was in Maui for Halloween.  Still hopping around on crutches.  Broke out a costume I've used before.  Miss Behaving.  Didn't want to brave the Lahaina madness on crutches, not a good idea.  Found a friendly nurse out and about in Kihei...

Bye, George

I'm house and pet-sitting in Oakland right now.  I love staying here, the house is great and being a zoo-keeper is lots of fun, except that I unfortunately had to send out this email as soon as I woke up today.

George is in the freezer, awaitng a proper funeral when the family is present.  What a way to start your morning.  Sorry, J. and G.  It's awfully quiet around here now.

The Facts

Bonus points to those who know where in New Orleans this photo was taken.

Eye Candy

In Hawaii, the men walk around with their shirts off all the time.  And it's absolutely delightful...

Maui.

Oahu.

                                       
More Hawaiian Eye Candy coming soon.  Aloha!                                              

The Brothers Comatose

This is my favorite band in San Francisco.  I'm not just saying that because they're friends of mine.  I'm saying it because it's true.  The Brothers Comatose kick ass.  You can see for yourself here.

The Brothers Comatose played in my living room back in September, right after I broke my knee.  I had just come home from surgery, I could barely move.  KKV called and said she was coming over with a surprise.  Imagine my delight when I buzzed her up and she walked in followed by a bunch of dudes carrying instruments. 

                                                                           

We fit lots of people in my room that night.  And lots of beer in my refrigerator.  Apparently the whole thing was Joe's idea.  He figured if I couldn't make it out to their shows for the time being, they should bring the show to me.  Thanks Joe!

                                                          

http://thebrotherscomatose.com/

WHO DAT!!

                                                                          
Who dat said dey gonna beat dem Saints?  10-0?  Yeah you right!  Mahalo, boys!

Shadow Shot Sunday

Touchdown Jesus.  French Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

That’s the back of St. Louis Cathedral in Jackson Square.  It’s a very historical scene.  But in New Orleans, we all just call it Touchdown Jesus.  

                                           

                                                                                      
                                     Geaux Saints!  Who dat!

Shadow Shot Sunday

Aloha!

My first day in Oahu was great.  I got lei'd in the car as soon as I got off the plane...

                                                   

Mahalo!

Then we stopped for lunch:

                                                

I haven't seen that smile since July.  Aloha!

Eating is something that Alika and I do very well together.  Especially when we're eating kalua pig, lomi lomi, luau squid, poi, lau lau, Korean shortribs, and haupia...

                                          

After lunch, we went to Waimanalo beach.  It's right near Alika's grandmother's house.  He used to spend his summers there, back when he was a little keiki.  Lucky him...

                                                                        

We swam until we lost the sun.  Then we went to a gay bar called Hula's.  The shirtless bartender's body was such a work of art that I forgot to take a picture.  Sorry about that.  I was too busy picking my tongue up off the floor.  He had a beautiful face and personality too, which didn't make things any easier.

I barely remember getting to bed that night.  All I know is that I woke up in my bathing suit and a bed full of sand.  Alika was passed out on the floor next  to the bed.  We haven't seen each other for four months.  I guess some things will never change.  Apparently we still eat AND drink pretty well together!

Aloha!

Janson Janson

This man...

                                                                               
is my best friend.  We have been joined-at-the-hip best friends since 1996.  We have been to hell and back together.  Repeatedly.  At different times over the past thirteen years we have been many things to each other.  Best friends, lovers.  Sister, brother.  Guidance counselor.  Heartbreaker.  Caretaker.  Psychiatrist.  Safety net.  He brought me food when I was too broke to buy any myself.  I can’t imagine my life without him. 

We have quite a history.  Lots of stories.  We’ve had some really funny fights.  The best is when we fight via email.  He never wins those fights.  He’s the musician, I’m the writer.  But he tries.  Bless his heart.  Once upon a time we didn’t speak for almost a year.  Worst eleven months I can remember.  Wandering around, missing my right arm…

Janson is the most talented piano player on the planet.  Period.  End of story.  You should go hear him play when you go to New Orleans.

Sometimes I think that Janson is a little unsure about where he stands in my life.  So let me set the record straight.  I love this man.  More than you know, more than he knows.  More than anyone knows.  I’m afraid of what I would do to someone who hurt him.  I’m also afraid that he’s going to die first when we’re old and gray.  Then what the fuck am I going to do?  He stands in the very center of my heart, the deepest part of my soul.  No one else can even come close.  And that’s not going to change.  Ya heard me?

Here we are at Mardi Gras in 2008...
             

                                           
And here we are last week.

                                                      

  I miss you already, baby.  See you December 10th!

Saints Sunday at Roger and Don's

This is what a Saints game at Roger and Don’s looks like:

                                                                                       

The crowd kept getting bigger.  Pretty soon we had people sitting on the floor.  I ate all sorts of things I shouldn’t have that day.  Nachos and homemade cheese dip.  Spicy!  Crab dip.  Zapp’s potato chips.  Those things will be the death of me some day…

                        
Carrot cake and brownies.  A hot dog.

                                                                      

And of course, Rose’s chili.  Rose makes amazing chili…

                                                                              

The game was a nail-biter.  It came down to the very last second.  Those Saints.  They’ll give you a fucking heart attack, I tell you.  A very tense moment:

  

The Saints are 9-0.  New Orleans.  Proud to call it home.  Yeah you right!

Eye Candy

Saw this beautiful boy in Maui last month, reading what appears to be a very bad book.  The title was "Virginity".  Seriously.  Ironic, though.  That's the LAST word that came to my mind when I saw him.

Brad Dupuy

Brad Dupuy is one of the most talented artists in New Orleans, hands down.  Brad has been painting since he was old enough to hold a paintbrush, pretty much.  Brad is 35.  That’s quite a while.

 My favorite time to write is late at night.  That’s what works best for me, it’s when I feel the most expressive.  The other day I asked Brad what his favorite time of day to paint was.  He said, “Whenever I can.”  Somehow, that answer didn’t surprise me.

Brad and I became friends when I sat next to him at the bar at the Country Club one night and pretty much forced him to start talking to me.  Then I pretty much forced him to go out bar-hopping with me and my crazy friends.  This was quite a while ago.  I think Brad was a little scared of me at first.  But he warmed up to me quickly enough.

Before you get the wrong idea about us, this ain’t your grandfather’s country club.  I highly doubt your grandfather’s country club has naked people running around the pool…

But that’s a story for another day.  This is a story about Brad Dupuy.

Brad’s art is hanging in the Country Club. Check it out next time you’re in there.  Some beautiful stuff up on those walls.

Brad finally got himself a website.  You can see it right here.  Buy a painting for yourself.  Buy one for me, too.  I can’t afford that shit right now.  I’m still out with a broken knee.  If you can’t afford it either, forward this to someone who can.  Tell them they have to buy me one too.  We’ll call it a finder’s fee…

braddupuy.com

A hockey stick?!

Oh, my mind is wandering right now.  I love hockey.  And naked Alaskan men.  I can't wait for January to get here.

A hockey stick!

Bon voyage

They sent me off in style last night.  There are going to be seven people at this dinner party.  Is this going to be enough wine?

Here we are, warming up…

                                   

                                                         
Dinnertime.  Mmmm, meat…

 

                                                         

Things got animated…
                                                            

                                                                               

Turns out it wasn’t enough wine.  Some of us wound up on Rampart St. after for a nightcap.  Or three.  Hey, whose hand is that next to my head?  And whose jacket am I wearing?

                                                      

Motherfuckers.  I miss you already.  I’ll be back.  Twenty-three days and counting.  Laissez les bon temps rouler!