The Second Moon of Adonis

I’ve been waiting a few years for this to happen, and I’ve been taking pictures of my first pomegranate once a week since I noticed it was hanging from the tree.

Yes, I’m a dork. That had already been established.

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Vegas loves Maya. At least occasionally.

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I was out in the backyard on Saturday, and there he was, napping on the couch in the sun with his toy.

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According to Wikipedia, “Hai (亥) is the twelfth sign of the Earthly Branches. Its animal representation is the Pig (豬). In Chinese culture, the pig is associated with fertility and virility. To bear children in the year of the pig is considered very fortunate, for they will be happy and honest.”

I don’t know much about Chinese astrology, but you can’t live anywhere near San Francisco without hearing about the celebrations throughout the downtown area the last couple of weeks, ushering in the Year of the Pig.

I’m already seeing signs that things are different this (Chinese) year compared to the last one. Things that make my inner pig (though I’m actually a horse, wink wink) extremely happy. Things like the skateboarder on this morning’s BART train.

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I got a little trigger-happy today while waiting in line to pick up lunch at a local place that makes some pretty decent burritos.

Forget the rice and beans — I’d like some of this wrapped up in a tortilla. I’ll refrain from any comments about hot sauce.

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There haven’t been much in the way of photogenic BART riders as of late. It may be the colder weather we’ve been having; it’s hard to spot a cute guy when he’s buried under several layers of wool and has a hood pulled over his head.

However, this morning more than made up for the recent shortage, when I found myself right in the middle of a pair of them. First, the one to my left, who had a certain boyish Corey Hart thing going.

However, cute though Lefty may have been, I have say he was a bit upstaged by the guy on my right. He looked a bit like a young Bruce Campbell, which might almost be enough for me to have crowned him Hottest Guy on the BART for December 5, 2006. It turns out that was the least of his charms, though.

Righty, it seems, must have had a long night last night, and he fell asleep almost immediately after sitting down next to me. Then, just a moment after I snuck this shot of him, we hit a rough stretch of track. He bounced around a bit, wobbled, and settled back down with his head resting on my shoulder. It only lasted a couple minutes, and he had flopped back the other way before he woke up, so he may never know the tender moments the two of us shared, cuddled up together in the back of the BART.

Or maybe he does know, and I blew a really good chance to cop a cheap feel. Who knows?

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I didn’t know until I was getting off the train today what this one looked like from the front. If I had, I’d have shot more than just the back of his head. Major missed opportunity. I’ll be keeping an eye out for him on future late trips home.

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Discovered a few things while out for lunch with the team from work today.

I still have days when I can drink just about anyone under the table, and then I have days like today when two beers turn me into a loud, obnoxious drunk.

Last night, for example, I managed to polish off four or five pints of Guinness in a couple hours, and I was still almost completely sober. Today, however, a couple of glasses at the Thirsty Bear and I was wasted. I don’t mind having a high tolerance, and I could live with being a lightweight, but the unpredictability annoys the hell out of me.

It’s a lot easier to snap pictures of guys who are sitting still on the BART than it is to get them when they’re moving around.

I was hoping to have a couple shots of the waiter from lunch today to grace these pages, but I couldn’t manage to get any of him that were in focus. Wildlife photographers have it easy — using a camera phone to get a good picture of a waiter in his natural habitat without him catching on is damn near impossible.

Don’t try to take pictures of your waiter unless you’re prepared for your co-workers to read your blog.

It’s become much more well-known around the office than I’d like that I have a thing for secretly taking pictures of unsuspecting guys. Up until now I suspect they thought I was just taking them home and using them for my own immoral, but highly personal, purposes. However, after the beer kicked in today I let it slip that I’ve been using them in something of a continuing series here at Adonis.net.

Letting the guys from the office know about this place is just handing them fodder for an endless stream of abuse. I really am a masochist.

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Turns out the view on the late trains isn’t bad, either. Thank the Lord for camera phones, and for giving me things to point mine at during my commutes. I love this town.

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It’s that time of year again — the ghosts and goblins are roaming the streets, the neighborhood kids are hopped up on sugar, and pumpkins are rotting on the front porches.

Halloween’s probably the most popular holiday with us homos. I’m not sure exactly why, but I suspect it’s because it gives us an excuse to slap on some lipstick, strap on the heels, and shamelessly flame our little hearts out for a day.

Those who know me personally can attest that I’m not a flamboyant kind of guy. I’m more the jeans, T-shirt, and six-pack of cheap domestic beer type. I’d much rather wear combat boots than stiletto heels, and listen to a lot more Janis Joplin than Madonna. Still there’s something about Halloween that brings out the queer in me, and this year I’m giving into it.

Where I work, we have an imaginary typical customer. Her name’s Emily, and she’s a work-at-home mom with a couple kids, a dog, and a digital camera. I’ll be showing up at work as her today. It may not be as glamorous as dressing up as Marilyn Monroe, or Cher, or any of the other typical homo favorites. I’ll be wearing fuzzy pink slippers instead of fuck-me pumps, and I’m forgoing the “I’m-ready-for-my-closeup” look for more of an “out-of-bed-and-into-the-minivan” thing. The important thing, though, is that I’m doing my part as a gay man by putting on a dress and smearing on some lipstick.

It’s a bit early for visuals right now; I’m still nursing the coffee and catching up on morning e-mails. I’ll try to post a picture or two of my public embarrassment as soon as they’re available.

Addendum:

I promised at least one picture, so here you go.  It may be one of the worst pictures ever taken of me, but my guilt over not posting it is overriding my desire not to look like a bloated cow on my own blog.

I think I need to work on my priorities.

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One of the things I love most about my commute to work is the scenery.

Exhibit A: Frequently found at the back of the last train on days I’m running late. Forgive the image quality — crappy camera phones and moving trains are a bad combination.

If anyone from the office happens to read this, I hope it explains why I’ve been coming in a bit later recently.

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