A Paintshop Description of the Men in My Life

I would like to clarify some shit about the men you might hear me mention.

Now, Tylere is a name that comes up all the time. We've been friends for years and I have one anectdote after another that would just make you swear to God I should marry him tomorrow. If part of me didn't think maybe I would marry him, then I might call you all fools. As it is, my heart is all exposed, and even though Tylere always stands by me, his hands are full with pizza and the remote control. Please note the glory-beams of spray-paint that radiate from my Hott Tylere.

On the left hand side of the page are dudes who are currently un-established and for whom I hope to find definition soon.

First there is Patrick. He's so one-and-a-half-years ago, but I just found out that he moved to Brooklyn and now I have to wonder if I should write to him. I did him wrong, sort of, so part of me thinks I owe it to him. Part of me thinks eighteen months is enough silence for homie to catch a clue.

Then there's Jordan. Rocker and dude-from-the-Internet. Tonight's dinner companion. Very cool. Not very hott. Would like to keep him around but I don't see it "going somewhere." Maybe he won't either.

In the upper right hand corner is Asit. He's on the phone. He also has a margarita. Behind him is a blackboard with a game-plan on it. Asit is my NIGGA 4 LIFE! He's asitwere and I would have surely died in NYC without him.

Then there's Michael. He's the bartender at Patio where I go all the time. After I get drunk I fall in love with him. Every time. I'm talking love. His girlfriend works there, too, and she's cool, but when I'm drunk that don't mean shit to me. When I'm drunk. Maybe that's just my fucked up way of looking at things.

In the past you may have also heard me mention Jon, but after the night in November when I kissed him he never called me again; I randomly ran into him at the Guggenheim last month, and that was the last of that.

I also have mentioned Nathaniel, my cousins friend. But after our nice time at the Guggenheim (where I ran into Jon) he also has not called.

They don't make it into the picture. Fuckers.

These are the dudes, though, just so you don't get confused.