Last night's tweets;
Amazon just sent me an empty box.
And Snow left for me a freshly dead mouse.
While Saffy remains in love with my socks.
I need a little more tea in this house.
I was all set to complain to-day about the fact that Amazon sent me an empty box in the mail that was supposed to contain Happy Mania vol. 2 until I saw via Robyn Massachusetts' live journal and Neil Gaiman's twitter that Amazon has removed a number of books from their sales rankings for no good reason and my problem suddenly seems like small potatoes. It's bad enough Amazon would choose to marginalise erotic literature by subtly suggesting their popularity is not a legitimate reality, but lumping gay literature and anything with certain levels of explicit in the group is just hugely sad. Bill O'Reilly not long ago painted his face as a "culture warrior"--there are people who are tightly opposed to any healing of the divides in America. They still think they're going to make us freaks all disappear one day, and their own stomachs with us.
The truth so many people can't face is that human beings are weird and it's beautiful. I have some photographic evidence from Buca di Beppo, where my family and I had dinner last night for my birthday;
Naked men deliver.
Sanctified outdoor nudity keeps watch.
It's the freakin' pope room!
One of many Frank Sinatra pictures.
This somehow is a completely heavenly image to me.
Looks a bit like a David Lynch sports bar here.
Almost done with my cheese manicotti. SEE WHAT SETSULED SEES, EAT WHAT SETSULED EATS. Those aren't my ribs, obviously.
The men's room. The top picture, I guess, is to make sure you remember what you're supposed to do here. I'll let you have fun speculating what they want you to do with the girls on the trapeze.
Reveal strange secrets to me, o candelabra!
Another attempt to photograph Saffy. She resists focus, as always.