i was almost an abortion

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Supermodel of the world

(LUCY, sitting pretty while the camera's rolled)

now i understand exactly how my sister felt the first time my niece or nephew did something major, like, take their first step...say "mama", or sashayed down a runway...
well, maybe it's not exactly the same but there's something very parental about seeing one of your children, in my case, dogs, do something monumental...something that may change their direction in life forever...something that made me so proud, so happy, filled my heart with joy and burst my eyes into tears...
now, i know she isn't technically my dog, but today while i was shooting a new web fashion look book for a new company, my dog, Buddy, who is actually, officially named Buddy Turlington, after Christie, his God-mother, (not really but in my fucked up imaginary twisted head, it is...) is usually the star of the show. when he walks down the runways at fashion week, the paparazzi goes insane, but today, he did the supermodel-like thing and let the new, fresh face in the room have center stage, and Lucy, my room mate Craig's gorgeous mixed pooch who we love so so much, took the reins and gave good face, and the rest, as they say, is history. her modeling techniques, learned from the few months of diligent training with Buddy, paid off, and she booked not one, but TWO fashion editorials...
we are so proud of lil LuLu, and we see a bright future for her, in fact, i am on the phone with Giorgio (yes, Armani) now discussing the rate for her for the next campaign, so, later!

the portfolio of Mr. Buddy Turlington 

     (Buddy and Daddy, Fire Island)

sometimes it hits me


sometimes it hits me, 
and i can't stop the waterfall of tears that begins to gush, unexplained from my eyes...is it actually unexplained or is it so obviously obvious as to why i can't help the tears from pouring down...people around me are dying. young. too young. way too young. but what really fucks with me more than the simple fact that my friend is gone, is the way they are treated, misjudged and exploited by people, well, gay men, who hail these men as superstars in their roles as "porn stars", yet as soon as they die, they flip the coin and say horrific things, usually lies, about the same person who's life-like dildo they are sitting on at the same time. oh, i see, you work at the mall in your small hometown...that means your, what? boring? you visited Miami or San Francisco once when you were on layover from your gay cruise...interesting..you think cause you got a raise at Walmart this summer that that makes you "fierce". but you never moved in the fast pace circles that the ones you hail as "hot" did, you never were thrown into the public eye, you never had to be "on" night after night, daily, on stage with a hard-on in front of a room full of gawkers, so, you just don't know what that does to your head, do you? you were there cheering, drooling, screaming, and you took the free dvd he gave you, didn't you? so, why now, and HOW now, do you have the gaul to whisper, or worse, shout out in anger, how awful he was because he did what he did, when he did it, really, because he had to, he had to please YOU...because if he showed up at 50% of what you expected he should be, live and in person, imagine what your glossed lips would have been talking about then...

fuck you all...

you are no better than anyone,

                                        in fact,

you're, most probably, less.



Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Trying to save something other than myself...

Joe Oppedisano and Erik Rhodes Vs. Global Warming

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

My Hooker Therapist

I was walking home the other night, down 28th street to lex. If your a New Yorker you would know that this just happens to be where all the "50 dollar blow job in your car" female hookers work. Anyways, i walk past these sluts on a regular basis, and as oversexed and worn out as there pussies might be, they always cat call as i walk by. But this time was different. One of the regular blonds stopped me and said "I know your not "looking", but i just was wondering why is it that you never smile". Kinda shocked, the only thing i could respond with was " sorry but i don't talk with street hookers" and i walked away. I made it half way down the block before i began laughing to myself. I was actually returning home for getting my toes sucked for 500 bucks. I'm not sure why i think I'm any better than these sluts, i guess cuz I'm not working a street corner? Maybe cuz i don't wear fishnets and try to make a quota of at least 10 dicks in my mouth before i call it a night? Anyways what she said to me, got me thinking. Is it possible that these street walkers are somehow happier than me? I mean she called me out, i have walked past them a good enough times, is my daily unhappiness that obvious that these street hooker feel bad for me and feel the need to try to provide me with some sort of roadside therapy? Has it got that bad?I guess I'm never very really happy walking around my building anyways, i always fear that i will bump into my ex that still lives in my building. At points i hope to see him, just to walk past him and show him i don't care anymore, sometimes i wish to see him with whoever he is dating just to make his new fling feel inferior, other times i kinda wish we could just be friendly, so that i could possibly see my dogs that i miss so much.

Moving on,

So i have been throwing myself out there lately, going out as much as i hate it, talking with strangers and trying to be social, honestly past the point i am comfortable with. I'm not sure what i expect, but most nights i still go home disappointed. I have actually had some of the worst nights of my life just recently. i have chosen not to write about them to spare the poor kids i was withs egos. (yes Dylan and Evan, you awful little shits, I'm talking about you). I'm not sure why. Its just not worth talking about, just some more simple mistakes i have made that i have since corrected. I do not think i have lost control, the sex and drugs of being single, despite my huge bottle of G, have not got the best of me... yet. In fact my nightly G use has been me more happy then i been in awhile. Although, I still wake up hating life. I guess i can't have everything i want huh?

Oh a positive note, i have just signed my ass up for some health insurance. I look forward to countless hours of brainwashing and life changing sessions with a therapist. I predict a grocery list of prescriptions after my first visit. Hopefully I'll get some good shit that will feel alot better if i abuse them or inject them. Just kidding... maybe. I just want something that shuts my brain off. I'm tired of over thinking every little thing. I want the crazy persons dream of just being able to feel normal around people.

Manors Tragedy: M.E. Ruling Pending on Popular Bodybuilder/Model’s “Unattended Death”

Posted on 30 January 2013
WILTON MANORS—On Monday morning, January 28, the residents of the Wilton Tower on Northeast 20th Street witnessed the arrival of emergency vehicles, police cruisers, a Broward Sheriff’s Office (BSO) Crime Scene van, and eventually the county Medical Examiner’s truck, each of which had responded to reports of the tragic death of a popular local bodybuilder, fitness trainer, and one-time Colt model, Christian Bouthillette, who lived at the high rise with his partner, Frank Angiulli.
Although the official ruling from the county Medical Examiner’s office upon the manner of Bouthillette’s death—including a toxicology report—could take up to two weeks to be released, official sources close to the case who declined to be identified told the Agenda that the 52 year old Montreal-native was discovered “unattended” in his bath tub.
The management of the luxury apartment building—which is located behind Dairy Queen and Tropics restaurant, near the south end of Wilton Drive—expressed sadness for Bouthillette’s death, and Community Manager Heather Sparks posted a note of condolence and sympathy near the building’s elevators, explaining the cause of his passing as a massive heart attack.
The source close to the case told the Agenda that Bouthillette’s exact cause of death won’t be known until the toxicology is completed, but that source referred to an online report that Bouthillette had been arrested last weekend in Miami-Dade County for cocaine-related offenses. The same source also stated that a note had been found on the scene by investigators.
Bouthillette, whom neighbors say was warm and friendly, was an award-winning bodybuilder, a nationally-recognized trainer, and a popular Colt model whose images are available online.
He welcomed visitors to his fitness Website (bodyimagefitness.us) with a friendly open manner that his friends say was second nature to him. “Hi. My name is Christian,” he wrote on the site.
Bouthillette, a Montreal native, graduated from high school in 1977. According to his self-written Web bio, “I started bodybuilding at the age of 21 in Spain. I studied science of education in Montreal, and was a track and field athlete. After being diagnosed with periostitis (the inflammation of the periosteum, a layer of connecting tissues that surround the bone) my tibia was affected and I could no longer jump or run. So I turned to bodybuilding to keep fit and healthy.”
After winning numerous bodybuilding competitions—including the 1995 Canada Cup, 1st Place in mixed pairs, the 1998 National Physique Committee (NPC) New York Grand Prix 1st Place in super heavy weight, and the 2004 NPC East Coast, 1st Place in super heavy weight—Bouthillette “started [his] dream job” in 1998 as a personal trainer.
Ken Hunt, the owner of New York City-based Steel Gym, knew Bouthillette for more than 10 years, and had employed him in both New York and Miami. “Christian was a very dear friend of mine,” he told the Agenda. “He was a sweet person whose biggest muscle was his heart.”
Hunt told the Agenda that plans were being made to hold a memorial event in Bouthillette’s memory.
He says he had spoken with Bouthillette’s partner, and been told that his friend had died from a massive heart attack.
Hunt described Bouthillette as a “friendly” and “serious” person, who was sometimes “guarded” around others, especially those who only saw him at face value.
“I remember being at Fort Lauderdale Beach with him last year,” Hunt recalled. “He was very friendly, but I remember him saying that it was funny how most people only saw him as this big muscular guy, how they felt they ‘knew’ him from his fame as a Colt model. But that wasn’t the deeper part of Christian. It’s really a terrible loss.”
While officials wait the official ruling from the medical examiner, his loved ones try to make sense of their loss, and take comfort from the memories they retain of their friend. On his training Website, Bouthillette himself wrote that he gained tremendous satisfaction from “Helping people get what they want and reach their goals like I did; using the experience and knowledge I’ve acquired during my career in bodybuilding.”

                          " I don't know where this is going, i just felt like bitching, I'm done for now."