vituperation

I stood in the shower a few days ago, washing shampoo out of my stubly hair and contemplating the state of affairs in the world. That, or boobs; I can’t quite remember which now. I swiped the water from my eyes and caught sight of some body wash Robyn needed for preparation for her recent surgery.

Hipicleanse, I thought. Heh. Hippie Cleanse. I wonder if they put that in the firehose when they spray those damn hippie protestors down.

I smiled.

I looked closer.

The bottle said “Hibicleanse,” not “Hipicleanse.”

I should’ve known there’s nothing that’ll get a hippie clean.

Found in Fred’s camera: brotherly love

Looks like it wasn’t the Wellbutrin causing my cold sores, as I’ve recently grown one the size of Milwaukee on my lower lip. I choose now to blame my wife, and all the stress she’s put me under.

Based on the recommendation of a reader (see? sometimes I take unsolicited advice), Googling, and talking to a pharmacist to make sure it wasn’t an old wive’s tale like colloidal silver, I’m taking the amino acid l-lysine to see if it’ll help keep me from getting more of them.

Because, damn, I’m tired of the cold sores.

Research indicates that arginine (found in chocolate, nuts, and popcorn, all three of which I get plenty of) can stimulate the herpes virus that causes cold sores and lead to an outbreak. L-lysine countereffects arginine, and supposedly helps.

All I want is normal lips again. Do you know how hard it is to kiss your wife’s ass with a cold sore?

Memo to myself: when posting on a pro-Bush thread which asks “What has improved over the last five years?”, a good answer to kill the thread is “The ability of terrorists to kill Americans.”

See? I’m an equal opportunity offender.

Found in Fred’s camera: a friend I made last weekend.
Bigger.

Anyone who’s been reading this site for any length of time might remember my dilemma from a few months ago. The parking lot of the spot where I go for most of my hikes had become overrun by men looking to hook up with men for sexual escapades. We all know I’m a live-and-let-live kind of guy, but some things are over the line, like blowing strangers in a public place where anyone can see. Anyone like me, in particular.

I reported things I’d seen to the man in charge of the property, and they installed digital cameras to catch people in flagrante delicto. Now I have an update for you.

The sex-hunters broke the digital cameras, and posted on a well-known gay forum to advertise this parking lot as a great place to hook up. Recently, a mother and child were there for a stroll through the woods and came across a couple of men doing something which is best reserved for the bedroom. The mother, who is smarter than I by far, didn’t call the manager of the property.

She called the TV people, who did a story about it.

So now, there are more cameras and regular police patrols in the area. Only time will tell if the changes will do any good.

For the record: I don’t care what people do in their bedrooms, don’t care what they put where, as long as they’re both happy with what they’re doing. I’m neither pro- nor anti-gay. A person’s sexual orientation matters naught to me, because it’s but a single facet of the entire person.

That said, as long as things like this go on, it’s going to be hard (no pun intended) for homosexuality to be accepted / tolerated in mainstream society. People don’t remember the good stuff, they always remember the bad, like this.