Sex Diary Recap/Diet (or Why is Craiggy so Crankky?)

Why hello blog,

Well, I guess by now you must have noticed that I kind of flamed out on my sex diary. I will let you know the end result however—I ended the week having NO SEX whatsoever. I could tell you sordid details of my Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, but wasn’t it BJORK that said, in her song Pagan Poetry, “I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him. This time, I’m going to keep it to myself.”? I may or may not have masturbated or watched porn, but that’s NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS. That is between me and my Lover (which is currently just my hand). Hence why I HATE THE FUCKING NYMAG SEX DIARY. Like at the end of the day I don’t GIVE A FUCKING SHIT if the GODDAMN “Clinton Hill Native who moonlights as a MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY CLOWN and recently broke up with his mom's LABRADOR RETRIEVER THAT WOULD LICK PEANUT BUTTER OFF HIS DICK” engaged in three counts of PEDERASTY and then shoved a dead 12-year-old boy under the FUCKING FLOORBOARDS of his HOUSE. The only (sex) highlight of my week was a five second drunken makeout in the basement of the Phoenix that I probably only did in order to include in my sex diary.

And, blog, I realized something—I DON’T WANT YOU KNOWING EVERY INTIMATE DETAIL ABOUT MY SEX LIFE. Just know that it’s really NOT THAT INTERESTING. Like, not all gay men are fucking SAMANTHA JONES. I mean, some are… and I could NAME NAMES. Muahahhah. But NOT ALL OF THEM. Yeah, it might be nice if I could just pick up some windshield wiper at a traffic stop, take him home, and have three hours of tantric intercourse, but THAT SHIT DOESN’T HAPPEN IN REAL LIFE. Well, it does to nymphomaniacs like David Duchovny, or so I’ve heard. But sadly, I must proclaim from the mountain tops, that I am NOT A MULDER, I am a SCULLY!!!!!

In lighter (literally) news, I have started a NEW DIET. I have been eating much less, and have become thinner, no, not by exercising—and not even because I wanted to!; rather, it is because I am BROKE. So I have applied Kembra Phaeler’s paradigm of performance art, AVAILABISM, to my diet. Simply put, you eat WHATEVER IS AVAILABLE. So simple it’s GENIUS, right??? For example, yesterday I ate some granola for breakfast, and the crust of a tuna sandwich that my friend Danny gave me for lunch. And today I ate a can of black beans for BRUNCH. (and yes, Suzie Decadence, you can still brunch on this diet!) Fat rich people: don’t keep any food in your house, and don’t ever buy any. Voila! You are thin and you have extra $$$ each month to spend on that size 0 prada skirt you always wanted (or possibly on your rent or your fucking ConEd bill). I have a feeling that I could write a diet book and make MUCHO DINERO (then I could use my FUCKING AIR CONDITIONING as much as I GODDAMN WANTED). Dr. Atkins STEP ASIDE.

Note to friends: If I seem cranky lately, it’s not because I’m hungry—It’s because I’m on a DIET!!!!!! Yayayayayayy!

The END.

Xoxo
Craig