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April 29, 2006

Home Invasion

So someone tried to enter my residence last night, uninvited. I was home alone when I heard someone turn my doorknob. I ran upstairs and looked out the peephole. There was a figure leaving the front door of our building. It looked like a woman. I wasn't wearing my glasses, so it could have been a fat man for all I know --I'm near-sighted for those keeping score. I made sure the door was locked and bolted it for extra safety.

I began watching several death shows to pass the evening away. The History Channel was showing back to back episodes of some 9/11 documentaries. I thought to myself, "How could anyone watch these morbidly depressing shows. You have to be pretty deranged to sit through that experience again." So I watched them both. I switched back and forth from the Discovery Health Channel cuz Dr. G was performing some intriguing autopsies. After that I switched on over to one of my favorite death shows, Forensic Files. The narrator, Peter Thomas, could make eating ice cream sound frightening. He's the same guy whose voice is sampled throughout that 1985 Paul Hardcastle Vietnam song, 19. After a marathon of that show, Skeleton Stories came on. This is why I should kill my television.

It was now 1:30 in the morning. Again, I was homo alone and resting peacefully in the comfort of my bed.

Then, the sound of the door handle turning occurred again. This time the handle was turned extensively and the door was trying to be pushed open. I thought it may have been Rob returning unexpectedly from a quick trip. This would be plausible except for the fact that he has keys and would have knocked or called if he had forgotten them. There wasn't a knock or the sound of anyone's voice, just the constant turning of the doorknob and the thrusting of a locked door. The sound suddenly stopped.

I was freaking out. I lept out of bed, ran upstairs and peered through the peephole again. The front door to our building was slowly closing but no figure was in sight. It was obvious, though, that someone had made a fast getaway. I contemplated running out to see if I could catch a glimpse of the murderer, but realized I was only wearing my leotard boxers. Fuck it, I ran down the hall anyway but they were long gone.

Who the fuck would try to come into a home at 1:30 in the morning when most people are likely sleeping? If they were going to rob our place, wouldn't they come during business hours when most people are away? If it were a bunch of drunk partiers who hate me, wouldn't they start yelling or banging on my door to piss me off? If someone wanted to have hot, sweaty man-sex with me, wouldn't they have at least called first? This was all very strange. Then I thought perhaps it was hot new porn star, Jake Dakota, finally responding to some of my stalker emails for an unscheduled visit. I did tell him he is allowed to come whenever he wants.

I laid back down and slept the rest of the night without being slaughtered or raped. I awoke in the morning and realized I had left the back gate wide open with the door unlocked. Um, oops. It obviously wasn't Jake Dakota as he would have come through the back door and not the front.

If this happens again, I will taser their ass, tie them up and force them to watch HGTV.

Courtesy Mustang Video

Come to dBud, Mr. Dakota. Seriously.

Posted by durban bud at 05:39 PM | Comments (7)

April 24, 2006

Nirvana

I've been listening to a lot of Nirvana lately. Even though most of Kurt's lyrics seem to make no sense, I have been relating to a lot of them. This would seem to suggest that I don't make a lot of sense. And I don't, but that's okay. Makes me interesting.

My counselor at the 'hab (or as the other guys referred to it, "Addiction Camp") told me that Kurt Cobain went to the same facility I did. She also told me that Chris Farley went there. I'm not really sure those little tidbits she dropped on me were supposed to help with my recovery but thanks for the positive reinforcement!

Anyway, I still love them. And miss them. I was fortunate to see them on their last tour. They came to AU while I was attending. Awesome show. He didn't even have to sing the lyrics to "Lithium"; everyone was doing that for him. Kinda cool to see a whole audience participating like that. Towards the end of the show Dave Grohl and Krist Novoselic started making out. Good for them. Made my little gay heart weep. Kurt started playing the shit out of his guitar and wouldn't leave the stage. Krist came out from backstage, picked Kurt up, threw him over his shoulder and took him offstage. Oh yeah, The Breeders opened the show. Love them too.

Here are my favorite mainstream CDs of all time:

1. Nevermind - Nirvana
2. The Bends - Radiohead
3. Appetite For Destruction - Guns N' Roses
4. Maxinquaye - Tricky
5. American Idiot - Green Day

If you're not into charts then perhaps you would like to know my stupid score from one of those silly online quizzes. Hey, at least I almost got a passing grade. Please take part if you think you are smarter:

Posted by durban bud at 02:41 PM | Comments (4)

April 20, 2006

King of Darkness

Is it just me or is this guy one of the most creepy and disturbing characters out there? I had a nightmare with him in it last night. He was in my bed. He was just glaring at me, kind of like he is in that photo. I was like, "Stop staring at me you freak." Then he put his hand on my leg. Then he moved it up my thigh. I was screaming but nothing came out. He started laughing. I became paralyzed. He kept laughing and touching me. Then he said, "You know you want it." His voice was raspy and sounded very Carol Schwartz-like. I woke up before he grabbed my goodies. Thank god. What the fuck is Burger King thinking? Does it make you want to eat one of their burgers? I think not. Ew.

Hi Kids. Want a burger?

Posted by durban bud at 10:57 AM | Comments (8)

April 14, 2006

Rehab Rehash

Guess who's back?

I survived! I can now add rehab to my list of accomplishments! I'm on a roll.

Rehab was a definite eye-opening experience. I met some amazing people and learned a lot about myself. Here are some highlights:

* We weren't allowed any TV, portable music devices, phones, internet access, fiction books, games, computers, newspapers, etc. It was all about concentrating on ourselves. That was a tough adjustment.

* When I got there I naturally bonded with one of the other loner freaks. He's one of those goth guys. He's a DJ and bartender (well, he was a bartender). We came in the same day and left the same day. He's an amazing person and I will definitely keep in touch with him. We both agreed that the whole experience was more tolerable because we had each other.

* Alcohol was the primary drug of choice for most of the patients but crack was a close second. It is the new DOC for upper middle class individuals (surpassing cocaine). I met an older philosophy professor and chemistry school teacher both addicted to it. I also met some housewives who you would never guess were smoking crack. It destroyed all stereotypes.

* There were no crystal meth addicts while I was there. This was surprising. Then again, there were virtually no gay guys.

* I have never been in such a straight environment since I was in high school. This took some getting use to. I had to endure several comments like, "Did you see the tits on her?" Um, no.

* Guys who were loud and obnoxious in high school tend to grow up to be loud, obnoxious 50-year olds. My counselor told me this happens because they usually started using drugs in high school and never sought treatment until they were older in life, so their maturity level is still the same. Makes sense. We decided that my maturity level makes me about 25. And I am happy with that conclusion.

* I did my own independent Dbud survey at the 'hab and concluded that people named Chris, Don, Jim and Bill tend to be addicts. I realize those are common names but I met very few Mikes and Matts. So be warned. Women named Catherine (or the nicknames derived from that name) are cokeheads.

* I had to sign an agreement that I would not disturb or disclose the names of celebrities that are seeking treatment there. There was a "rock star" there before I arrived. He fronts one of the bands that the kids are listening to these days. There was also a local news anchor.

* While I was at the gym one day, I looked around at all the other people working out and thought, no one would ever believe all these people are addicts. They were executive vice presidents, Olympic athletes, school teachers, psychiatrists, pharmacists, commercial airline pilots, construction workers and, of course, several lawyers. Again, shattering myths.

* My roommates were all really cool. One of the guys was an adorable 35 year old former basketball player. When he saw Rob again with me, he asked why "my friend" was visiting again. I told him that he was my partner. He said, "Huh?" After several minutes of explaining, he said, "Oh, that's cool. Sorry for being so dumb about it." When I saw him again, he avoided me. I thought he was just a homophobe. He came into our room while I was sleeping. He laid down on his bed and said, "Sorry I was so aloof earlier; I just thought you were lying to me to be funny." I said, "Don't worry about it. No big deal." There was a long pause and he asked, "TJ, are you mad at me?" I was like, "No." He said, "You don't sound very convincing. Cuz if you are mad at me, I won't be able to sleep. I'm serious." I assured him I wasn't mad. It was all very cute. He finished his treatment the next day and left me the nicest note with all his contact information.

* I read two books while I was there, both by Augusten Burroughs. Both were excellent. If anyone wants to read what my life has kinda been like during this period, read Dry.

* I haven't been this clear headed in about 15 years. I always had at least a few drinks or drugs during a 2 week period - at least - during that time. It's an awesome feeling.

Anyway...what a whirlwind the past few months have been. I've decided to bypass the months of January and February from now on. My worst moments tend to occur then. Since I am kinda bear-like, I will hibernate instead.

Until then, I'm back and I'm on a roll. :)

Posted by durban bud at 01:04 PM | Comments (21)

April 05, 2006

Bailey Beagle

Editor’s note: I am filling in for TJ while he is at an undisclosed location without Dick Cheney. Full Disclosure: I am a terrible editor and speller.

I miss Bailey. Bailey was a former resident of DC. Unfortunately, Bailey moved to San Francisco last year. I was truly traumatized upon his departure. He was our little buddy. Bailey often stayed with us. We lived in the same apartment building for several years. In fact one weekend his owner Ttodd asked us if we would watch Bailey for the weekend. Needless to say that weekend turned into months. TTodd returned over four months later. We had visitation rights with Bailey and it was not uncommon to see him with us.

Being a Beagle he simply does not like to be alone. He is a pack dog after all. He howls when left behind (think Snoopy on top of his dog house but much louder) and he licks the floor when he is nervous. Now we all have baggage so what is a few howls and a lot of dog saliva. He more than makes up for it when he looks up at you with those big brown hound eyes. Besides sniffing and eating his other favorite past time is snuggling. Bailey will spend hours curled up in a ball or on his back sitting on your lap. That is Beagle heaven for Bailey.

At his or um, TTodd’s going away party. Mr. Dubud and I walked in to TTodd’s loft just as his quests where toasting him wishing him goodwill and good luck in San Francisco. As the door opened Bailey powerful snout got a whiff of mine and Dbud’s downy fresh scent. He howled (ahhhrraarahhhh) with delight. It was an equally joyous reunion. The room interrupted by bailey’s whaling looked to see what we had done to little Bailey. He was rejoicing, jumping up and down and up and down. We reciprocated with a few vigorous tummy rubs and maybe even a Pringle or two. It was a bittersweet evening I knew I was going to have to say goodbye to Bailey

As the evening wore on I spoiled Bailey rotten, petting him above his tail in his tickle spot and feeding him dog biscuits. Inevitably we had to leave. I began to tear up. Ttodd suggested we take bailey for the evening we declined. As I walked briskly down U Street three steps ahead of Dbud I struggled to hold back tears.

I miss Bailey. As Dbud would say “He’s a good girl.” He is actually a boy but that is Dbud's sense of humor.

On an unrelated note I spent the weekend with Dbud at the undisclosed location without Dick Cheney, (the big R on the bay). He is doing well. It was good to see him. It is very peaceful there. He is anxious to return and misses everyone.

Posted by durban bud at 08:49 AM | Comments (8)