I am sitting at work, and our computer system is down, so I am killing time reading and watching TV: FT and the other CTV fashion program hosted by the bland Glenn Baxter. At the moment, Jeanne Beker is interviewing Betsey Johnson, who at least has the decency to be honest about her extensive plastic surgery, (unlike, say, Sophia Loren) but is still quite ridiculous, with the cartwheels at 67, and all the forced fun and boisterousness of her shows. It looks like hard work having so much fun, especially for the poor models. Maybe I'm just being bitchy, and maybe the lightheartedness and lack of seriousness is a breath of fresh air for the models. Qui sait? Nicht ich. All I can do is speculate.
BTW, one thing that irks me: Baxter and the host of Fashion File, Adrian Mainella are unable to pronounce foreign names, which abound in the fashion industry. Azzedine Alaia, Versace, Lagerfeld, Gianfranco Ferre, Balenciaga, and those are just the easiest ones. If you host a TV show about fashion, you have to be able to get your mouth around odd-sounding names. No, the pronunciation needn't be perfect, in fact it shouldn't be, because that would sound weird, but I subscribe to Rusell Smith's suggestion that it be about halfway corrrect, at mid-point between
English and whatever the language in question.

--Just read on Wikipedia that Fashion File has been cancelled by CBC.

X-mas

Well, I am having a coffee at Cafe Depot on Prince Arthur, and am supposed to head over to my pal Albert's place in Verdun in ein Paar Minuten to have a fondue dinner, but I ain't really in the mood. I would rather be alone among other people who are alone, and maybe catch a flick, which I may do later at the local multiplex. Mtl has lost most of its smaller cinemas in recent years, and unfortunately, the multiplex plays a lot of good shit. May see either A Single Man, or the new Almodovar (Broken Embraces?), or maybe An Education. Not sure. Well, gotta go.

my escorts

Spent a couple of hours this evening with J. the student escort. 25 years old, OK-looking but hardly gorgeous, sweet but not particularly interesting. He is however definitely not a clock-watcher and always stays well beyond the agreed-upon time. He also tells me to call him anytime, even if it's just for a coffee, no charge. So in a way he is the least professional of the guys whose services I have paid for in the last few months. But that works in my favour, because he ends up being fairly cheap. He also chats freely about his life. No guardedness at all. I know his real name, although not his surname. I know what his major is, that he is a student at Concordia University, and were he comes from. It's flattering, because he seems to trust me, but he also seems a little naive. Unlike the other 2 guys I have seen multiple times, he is the one I could never really fall for. Not mysterious enough, not quite hot enough, either, and far too ordinary. I like to rim the other 2 guys, but could never with him. Every time I head down to his nether regions, his ass doesn't seem to smell quite clean enough, despite the fact he seems to have showered. I usually just suck him off and kiss him quite a bit. He is quite the avid kisser, which turns me on sehr viel.

Spent the day indoors, basically in bed. Had a good excuse (sort of): a planned all-day water interruption in my apt. building. It was supposed to be from 9 to 5, but much to my chagrin, when I stepped into the shower, I realized there was indeed no hot water. And I have one of those showers that has no truly cold water, so when there is no hot water, a mere trickle comes out of the tap, not enough for even a cold shower, which I would have reluctantly settled for. So I waited about an hour, and then was informed by the superintendent that it would be another hour or two before hot water was restored. So, OCD notwithstanding, I sucked it up and put on some dirty clothes, washing what I could of my body: face, head, arms. cock. Ass would have been too complicated in the bathroom sink. Put on a bit of deodorant, and headed out to face the evening. Now am having a coffee at nearby Cafe Depot, and will head off to Indigo Books, to eat, ecouter de la musique, and read the latest issue of 'Bitch: feminist response to popular culture'. Have to contact my Persian rentboy and set up a 2-hour appointment for later this week.