Friday, February 6th 2026, almost broke my neck leaving my apartment building and crossing the street, slid on some ice, but did not fall. Google interpreted that as ‘Dread did not fall’. Well, I have been listening to Bob Marley a lot lately, and he would‘ve been 81 today…

Now at my desk safe and sound, no bones broken. I am listening to Lena Lovich. An old fave from the days of stiff. I bought her albums when they came out in the states I saw her at the Meadowbrook back in the day and one night and the 90s during inner and outer snow storm and went up at a gay bar in Union City with two other guys that I did not know and I still don’t know and they were playing Lene Lovich and they’re quite surprised that I knew who she was.

She’s still at it and was recently on tour with Devo, and the B-52’s, and Thomas Dolby joined her for the Baltimore joint

It is hard to believe, but today is even slower than yesterday. I’ve been here for three hours, and it seems like a lot more than that. I am still reading the Patti Smith book, which I will probably be finished with by the end of the day. I have listened to Lene Lovich, Bjork, and now the Cocteau Twins. Google picked it up as cocktail twins, and Jet Watley used to call them cocktail shrimp. Oh, what a time it was.

Bill is on the road, Mike is at his crib, and I am at my desk at work. I slept very well last night and woke up before the alarm clock, and decided to become active before the alarm went off. As usual, the first thing I do when I wake up, and Bill is not around, I make the bed, starting the day off with an accomplishment. After that, it’s all downhill.

I’ve been snacking all morning, so I’m not hungry. I have finished my coffee consumption and am out earlier than I usually am, and I don’t know what to do for lunch. I do have an idea, but I am uncertain. I’m not sure if I will even be hungry when it’s time to eat.

I am missing an issue of Mojo magazine. I received two copies of the one with the Smiths on the cover, which should have been followed by David Bowie on the cover, but instead, I got the Small Faces on the cover.

Sad to write about Fred Smith’s passing away. In 198,6 Fred and Jim Mastro sold me my Fender acoustic guitar. That night I played at a bar across the street from where I worked. I didn’t do too well on the guitar, though. I sang Dirty Old Town by the Pogues and Walking After Midnight by Patsy Cline.

Fred Smith was also partners with Jim Mastro when the Guitar Bar opened 30 or so years ago. I was too intimidated to talk to him, though he seemed like a nice guy.

WordPress is back to not allowing photos again

It is Monday, February 2nd, 2026. I had a good night of sleep, and the last dream I remembered was me being in Farfetched, helping somebody out who may or may not have been a customer or a client, and I was taking inventory at their request.

Once again, it’s very cold out, cold enough to make you want to stay in bed as long as you can. Having had the past two Mondays off, this Monday was quite dispiriting but there’s nothing I can do about it. Here I am, I made it into work once again in text intact.

The weekend was mainly with Bill, which was good mostly I would have to say. And Mike says that he’s greatly upset at the situation I am in. There is love, but it’s not physical love between Bill and me, which distresses Mike to no end, and Mike says he’s going to step up and give me what Bill cannot or will not.

This is very nice to hear, but as he tells me these things that reopens the wound that was scabbing over nicely between Bill and me. They don’t, Bill loves me, and I know I love Bill, but it’s not the way it used to be up until maybe a month ago, when I did have faith, and I had hope that someday things would get back to what they used to be.

But he was adamant and said that it would never happen, and the tone of voice was like a knife through the heart, and of course bill being bill communication is not his thing, so this can never be brought up to him without him getting greatly upset or unleashing the tone of voice that he unleashed the other week.

Mike promises to make love to me, which is awfully nice. Awfully nice physical touch is very nice; having gone without it for about 15 years, he reawakened something within me, something that had lain dormant. And now that I had some, I wanted it again.

Mike seems sincere, and I mentioned it to Jimmy Chile. Jimmy Chile states that it sounds like a con that Mike is running I don’t see it though and I know that Jimmy is just looking out for me as Mike is looking out for me and Bill looks out for me I am grateful to have such wonderful men in my life looking out for me and apparently I do the same for them when it arrives or is needed and I don’t even realize that I’m doing it

I should follow the advice I give to others, which is to not read the comments in social medias. But like a fool, I do since I fall for it almost every time.

Jimmy Chile seems convinced that Mike is running a con on me. I don’t see it, but Jimmy has seen a lot more than I have. I certainly wouldn’t want it to be true, but since when do I get what I want?

In the downtime at this gig, I found two possible job opportunities for Mike and sent them to him, but I have not heard back from him yet. Either he’s talking to his boyfriend, or I don’t know much anyway, I tried to make my bed. His words in my ear did not do much good for me and sort of poisoned the well for Bill and me. The Christmas gift that Bill gave me and my reaction to it were brought up a few times over the phone with Mike

Mike recognized the imagination and effort I put into getting gifts for him and Bill, and he really can’t speak about Bill because he regifted the gifts I gave him and told me that he did just that.

ICE in Hoboken, Jersey City