the way you dress tonight

Oh, my Gosh. That´s life. I´ve seen 47 entries to this blog. I suppose a 99 percent of them must be mine. No comments in almost a year is a record of non-reading. I have just recovered the control over this page. I never ended this entry. The Way You Look Tonight. What the fucking hell was I thinking of when I imagined an entry with such a name. Maybe in a beautiful boy dressed in a black suit waiting for me to say "yes" to my lusty proposals. Now, I'm married again (...), so the boy in black is no longer more than a nasty daydream (Oh...My Gosh, the costs of decency and stability...!!!). I dislike cheating, of course. Is so passé now in the 2000's. Is something kinda seventish, like New York, that is kinda seventish too, at lest in my eyes... Vintage Porn New York. The best ever seen... Baretta and Manhattan as appears in Blaxplotation movies, nothing compares to it. And Mary Tyler Moore's show... kinda antique bizarrerie too. I suppose a collection of episodes should be into Mony Linz-Einstein's parisian bizarrerie gallery catalogue. Guys with large moustaches and tight Saint-Tropez pants still put me soooo horny, but they have became soooo scarce; it's a pity. It´s all about being Gay in the mid-fourties and all the crisis we must supposedly face at this stage of our lives. Horrorshow freak. I have been invited to a "remembrance ball party" for the 25th anniversary of my 1983 high school generation at my more-than posh-and-high-end college. The last thing I remember from such institution was I felt it vomitive and the only thing I thought of at that time was getting rid of it. Now I think the same. Most of my former classmates are now well-to-do stockbrockers while I´m just writng oddities in my computer. Well, Nobody gets rich through journalism. You can get plenty of dash and glamour in this profession but of nothing else, for sure.