Off to the Beach!

So I met a very nice man with a beercan cock and a Harley and he invited me to his beach house this weekend. Thank fucking god. My tan is going to be fierce.

Black Party '08 Memories:

In regards to a certain Brazilian who became my nemesis as quickly as he manipulated me to become my best friend.

From:
Subject: were u at the black party? dancing?
Date: Sun 13 Jul 2008 10:56 AM

On Sun 13 Jul 2008 10:57 AM, Cory Koons wrote:

i sure was. I was wearing high waisted deerskin shorts, boots, and such, and then a chaps waist jockstrap. was on stage soaked in blood, etc.

On Sun 13 Jul 2008 10:59 AM, wrote:

i think we were dancing together,.
we met upstairs in the dressing room with this other fried of yours.
We kissed a bit,..
You were wearing an ass free outfit,..

On Sun 13 Jul 2008 11:01 AM, Cory Koons wrote:

oh shit we did, didn't we? OK, so that friend of mine later turned out to be all crazy and shit, and even last night any guy I would talk to he would immediately try to steal from me (even if I was just talking to a friend)... was that the case there? usually when it happens I just walk away.

From:
Subject: Re: were u at the black party? dancing?
Date: Sun 13 Jul 2008 11:05 AM

that was exactly the case,..
i think he was high on something
he's hot but he's too crazy for me.
you were extremely mellow.
Yes he was very jealous and kept asking why I like you and not him.
You felt extremely good and I would have loved to make out with you but you
disappeared...

WITH FRIENDS LIKE THAT WHO NEEDS ENEMIES?

This Goes to Show You How the Energy You Throw Off Comes Back to You.

I am riding my bike from Union Square to the Bar, to dance. I am late. I cross 6th Ave crosswalk. A motherfucker takes two running steps and kicks my bike as hard he can. I cut him off or give me any reason to do this. I stop my bike. "what the fuck was that?" no response. "fucking asshole!"

"fucking faggot."

"what did you say?"

"FUCKING FAGGOT!!!"

He is already walking away by this point. I put my kickstand up. Leave my bike in the street. Start walking after him. Rip my fucking sunglasses and earphones out. "Say it to my face!" he continues to hustle to the nearest store, a fucking Sprint PCS. I follow him in there as he walks deeper in the store. I call him a fucking pussy a couple times really loudly, then walk away, get on my bike, and get ready to don a plastic'grass skirt, and a floaty ring in the shape of Tony the Tiger.

Afterwards, I am leaving with a friend, and two dudes walk past us, one of them makes an under-his-breath type of condescending comment that sounds nice but you know it means the opposite, you stupid fucking faggot, so when I chirp up "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY? COULD YOU PLEASE REPEAT THAT? SPEAK INTO THE MICROPHONE." He doesn't like it very much and can just say

"I didn't say nothing mean, I just said that you can go on continue doing whatever you want to do, I didn't say shit."

with all the sarcastic, deluded, grandeur he can conjure up.
"BULLSHIT. BULL-FUCKING SHIT" This is when my friend steps in, as he can see that they are probably in a gang, three of his friends are half a block away wondering if they should pull him away or wait for the signal to join in and beat us faggots down. They talk heatedly for a while, I stop listening. Key terms I hear are, "This is my turf," "your friend needs to step down (I was unchanged in my position, smiling bemusedly, I would rather have had my teeth knocked out and my face drug across the pavement than back down at that moment)," "...Just because you're light-skinned," "I know. My friend, he's talking stupid, and he's not going to say nothing no more (friend is looking at me, like keep your fucking mouth shut stupid ass)."

We managed to get out of that one unscathed, but seriously, fucking hell, why should two faggots think that being fucking heckled by some ignorant assholes (whose fucking turf you happen to be on, um, we're one block away from a gay bar and fancy car delearships assholes I think that makes it just as much our turf, um, joking, but anyway) whilst walking away from a leather bar think that's OK, and not speak up, even if it means getting our asses kicked?

I guess that really doesn't change anything.

Needless to say, I got so freaked out I had to immediately change plans, and hop on my bike, and ride the entire way back to the bowels of fucking Brooklyn. Finally. The best part is that I was frying my nuts off and was quite drunk and stoned also. It took me maybe forty-five minutes to ride the six+ miles. How's that for endorphins? Work it out.

MORALITY REPORT: Please, everyone out there, do not ride your bike, your car, your motorcycle, whatever, when you are wasted. It is super dangerous and really dumb. And really, I'm a huge believer in doing whatever the fuck you want as long as you are not putting other people in harm's way, and that is it exactly what you do when doing stupid shit like that. Riding across the bridge all whacked out and shit was pretty awesome though.

an excerpt from a letter I received two nights ago from my ex-lover/why i totally suck

the party was really really fun until I left without saying goodbye. I am going to do laundry this morning, after I burn some sage.

"if you intend to make a scene and throw things around and kick doors until they are falling of their hinges, I cannot be around you. If you cannot find a place to be calm when you are around me, we cannot be friends. I understand you are let down and disappointed with me but you have no right to behave with me as you did today. I never ever deserved this sort of treatment and I do not deserve to be treated this way now. I will not allow our interactions to ruin another event."

an excerpt from a letter I just wrote my ex-lover/why i hate crystal meth

"I don't know why I am writing this. I already know it won't change anything in your life, or between us. Maybe this is just a letter to make myself feel better, to know that I have tried to help... but it's not my responsibility, as much as I wish it were. I know that I either have to accept you as how you are because that is never going to change, or move on. Either option sucks so much and the thought of either has made me burst into tears. I hate thinking that I'm going to lose you first as a boyfriend, and then as a friend because it hurts me too much (which then turns to irrational anger) to see you destroy yourself, but do I have any other options? NO."

I Found a New Way to Have Pork

I read this article a few months back in the Wednesday Times Food section:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/16/dining/16ital.html?n=Top/Reference/Times%20Topics/Subjects/F/Food

In preparing a delightful summer pasta I came across the exact secret ingredient, guanciale, that they were talking about in that article.

I made a really delicious pasta with braised chicken thighs, guanciale, summer vegetables and herbs, and a bit of parmigiano tonight. It will be just as good cold tomorrow.

I feel so happy now that I don't really remember being anything BUT a happy person brimming with ideas I can't wait to execute.

Moving into a new space, having space of my own--a fucking HOME--has been the most amazing thing to happen to me in so long.

To those of you reading, we're on the home stretch now!!!

The Nicest Thing Anyone Has Ever Said to Me

"Your ass is the genetic equivalent of a twelve inch dick."

Something Very Important

I've realized that I'm taking cymbalta for a reason... If I go off it, I go completely nutty. It happened to me again in the past month. I was really depressed anyway and figured that if I stopped taking it maybe I'd get my sex drive back at least, but instead I was subject to wild mood swings--from bad to worse. I didn't want to write about it, nor did I talk to friends about it, family; I isolated myself as best I could. I realized I was reaching an all-time low and thoughts were entering my head that never had before. I have a great lesbian therapist and that combined with resuming the cymbalta seemed to help, or rather, I woke up one day and decided to attract positive energy again. PHEW! More later. I'm trying to get to bed after such a crazy, wild weekend (I will post stories soon) but I can't stop thinking. I can barely keep my eyes open but my brain is wide awake. As usual. I keep trying to tell myself I control my brain, not the other way around, but the brain seems to be winning tonight...

OK I'm Feeling Better Now

I've had a great weekend. I have had tons of sex in the past week. All of it was fantastic. I had not had great sex since January. It's pretty great. I feel motivated enough to start pursuing my dreams again. WOO!

One of my Greatest Fears

Is that I'm boring. This was confirmed today when I last minute canceled a plan to go to a big radical faerie gathering for May Day which takes place on one of their compounds, Short Mountain in Tennessee. Maybe I am secretly boring, and I just go-go dance and turn tricks and do porn and work in fashion and art to make myself more interesting, and once all my friends figure this out, and also that I am pure evil on the inside trying to be nice on the outside, they will hate me along with the rest of the world.

It's one of those days. It's been a while since I've had one this severe.

It's raining. I want it to be sunny and pretty.

TONIGHT: THE OFFICIAL RELEASE PARTY OF SQUEEZEBOX THE MOVIE

This is a busy weekend for me... I will be go go dancing here tonight as well, and the getup will be a little more trashy punk rock n roll glam whore than what we're used to these days... Damon Demarco is coming over beforehand and we're doing each other's smoky eye.

TONIGHT: THE COCK & RENTBOY

SAVE THE DATE: This Thursday, April 24th--Rentboy's Hodown at the Cock

I Had Pork Six Ways Today

1.  In a BLT, and A on whole wheat with mustard, mayonnaise, red onion.

2.  The cubes of bacon in the sauteed bok choy.

3.  The Canadian ham wrapping the Mayan prawns.

4.  The Berkshire pork belly in the ramen.

5.  The Berkshire pork neck in the ramen.

6.  The pork broth of the ramen.

SATURDAY, April 26th

Best Week Ever

So far this week, I have had tacos EVERY day, I got a new tattoo, and my new mattress was delivered.   AMAZING.  I upgraded from full to queen (insert joke here) and splurged on a Tempur-Pedic® Deluxe.  Fucking hell.  I've never been in a more comfortable bed (besides the celebrity bed and the ultimate bed, at $3500 and $6000 respectively).  AND it has a twenty year warranty.  I am so stoked!  I feel alert and fresh this morning (last night was my first night sleeping with my bed--notice I say sleeping WITH my bed, not ON my bed.  Such is the magic of Tempur-Pedic®.

I Keep Missing

therapy, which is troubling. The other day, I showed up for therapy five minutes early. I was very proud of myself. My habit of being late for everything is one of the reasons why I'm there, late. In any case, I arrive five minutes early. I wait for a bit, fall asleep for an hour, wake up, and realize it's WEDNESDAY not THURSDAY. The next week, and I shit you not, I forget it's Thursday, and think it's Wednesday and miss it again. At my next session, we decided I would set a weekly alarm on my iPhone so I wouldn't forget. The next week I remembered when the alarm went off, vibrating my toe and making me giggle as I lay on my rooftop on a blanket soaking up the sun and huge bong tokes. I was forty minutes late, so I had to reset my weekly alarm forty minutes earlier. It now goes off at 4:31PM, Thursdays.

Mark Your Calendar: I'm Dancing at the Cock Tonight, April14th, "Twin Cheeks"

I just got asked to dance at the Cock tomorrow night, 29 2nd Ave in NYC... Stop by and say hi and tip me a $10 or $20. My buddy, DJ Josh Sparber will be spinning the tunes, I will be on top of the bar starting 1am doing dirty things.

March 24

I woke up and turned a trick, then met my ex-boyfriend for an amazing lunch at the Spotted Pig. We shared deviled eggs, a dozen oysters, a fried duck egg and bacon salad, and pan fried calves liver with crispy pancetta, all washed down with a couple pints of speckled hen beer. I started crying during the calves liver because he left me. Then we shared a cheese plate. Then I went home and cried some more, slept off some of my food coma, and got ready to meet my best girlfriend and her boyfriend for dinner at Blue Ribbon Bakery. We toasted over a bottle of Veuve Cliquot and proceeded to share a dozen oysters, steamed clams, roasted whole garlic, roasted chorizo, and a green bean salad, and I followed that with some sweetbreads with a grilled onion compote and fennel and herb salad. This was followed by ordering every dessert off the menu and a nice cognac. After that, I ran home, douched myself clean and met a trick that wanted to be fisted. I fisted him and fucked him, then fisted and fucked him, then he fucked me, then I fisted him, then he fucked me till he came, apologizing that he usually lasted longer. Then I went home and to bed, by myself. Happy Birthday.

Hey Y'all

Yes. It is me. I have decided to write again, mostly because I was described as a porn star and blogger recently in an email blast. I have been thinking about writing again (it seems that it is more interesting for all parties involved to write this thing when I'm single, so here goes, starting with my birthday, in which I turned 27. CRAP. This year I decided my (Cory's) birthday was March 27. The Cory generally known as someone else's birthday is March 24. Let's start with March 24th, shall we?