Put my headphones on, and listened to HEDLEY sing.
Saw a great Robin Williams film tonight, BOULEVARD. I used to act similarly to Williams in this movie; going around talking to random hustlers on Santa Monica Blvd., about why they were doing what they did, without judgement, and, back then (the mid to late 80s) asking were they protecting themselves against this new disease called A.I.D.S. Some were, some weren't; the money was better if they didn't. I never crossed the line with any of them though; meeting them, for me, wasn't about getting my kit off. More about learning who they were as people; these boys who were only viewed as cum dumps by most... other men.
Now Matt Nathanson is singing in my ears.
Arguing for my independence with my trust lords has gotten really old, really fast. See, I’m like a poor man’s Brittany Spears: all my money is in a special needs trust, dispensed as need be by my Trustees: Gil Roth and Peter Johnson. Gil, I’ve been friends with since St. John’s. Peter does this for a living, & cuts me a world of always legal and ethical slack. More tomorrow. Nighty-night.
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