-"Night" by Lois Weakley McKay

And so I sit here while my own form of nightfall ascends around me. The coolness all around my skin as I stand there to watch my dogs outside makes me glad that although my skin reacts fearfully, I'm not sweating. I hate to sweat after a long hot bath.

If you knew me a while ago, you'd know that I lightly adored the movie, The Crow. Yes, it's that movie labeled as the one Brandon Lee (son of Bruce Lee) died on after a prop gun thought to be loaded with only blanks killed him. For what seemed like years, Hollywood obsessed tabloids and even the newscenters went on and on about this movie's sudden disastor. Sad as I was only beginning to like Brandon Lee.

It wasn't love at first sight because I hated The Crow on first watch. Hated it! I never understood the interest in how dark the movie looked or how certain characters were only given either too little or too much to do. At least my love of the soundtrack took place while in Newman's car gave me a feel to give The Crow a second chance.

Darkness. Who knew that a soundtrack with The Cure and NIN would set me free in embracing The Crow. It's not perfect but it'll do as I am now a bit mad at how the movie pushed itself away from the comic, far away. I've hated Hollywood's need to think that they can take a character and play their way. The comic for The Crow, which I just read, is darker and better. My only exception is that Top Dollar is cooler in the movie since I cannot look away from a man that will cut out a person's eyes as a form of torture while looking like a reject from European literature.

Forget about my little rant over The Crow. Rolling Stone just put out its 1,000th issue, very much worth taking a look at as we get to see the stories behind some of the famous pictures. Of course, I got curious about the Sex Pistols portion and learned how the writer locked himself in Jonny Rotten's office in order to get an interview. Sid, being Sid, entered with cuts all over his chest since suicide gets people's attentions when no one's looking at you.

Rolling Stone goes way back with me since I've seen pretty much every issue and even kept some of the most controversial ones. You'll find that Britney Spears one (the one photographed by Lachapelle where she looks like a lolita), the Janet Jackson one (boobies held by mysterious hands-her husband's), Latetia Casta's nude cover that was banned from many stores, or so many others that got my attention. Yes, I am a male that adores the sexy photos of Herb Ritts or Mark Seliger.

Way back when, there was a little hidden store in our downtown area. My friend, Newman, used to take me there all the time since his obsession with records was almost abnormal. Then again, what is abnormal these days? While I had no interest in records, I lay on the floor to wait only to see to my right was a pile of old Rolling Stones. Trust me for I went through them like candy, buying all that I could for cheap.

Add that to this little hole in the wall store that sold old magazines such as Playboys and Mad, Rolling Stones were all over the place. Too bad they sold out, huh? Somehow, I still love the magazine as their articles on our need to help the environment keep hope alive. Plus, who else loves seeing George Bush drawn with a dunce cap?

1,000 issues? Man, that's a lot as the only thing that comes close to that is my love of Playboy. Even that magazine pissed me off by interviewing 50 Cent a short while back. How do you justify putting a guy that hardly knows a thing, drops 1 album, and preaches violence being the only way for a black man to get where he is? Let's just say that I have a hard time understanding the importance of rap these days. That's coming from a guy that used to love it.

Ah, the power of the Internet! While I am certainly going to get into the June Playboy's discussion on surgeons making the perfect vagina, I got quite a laugh at how there is a "Women Of Myspace" spread. I kid you not. Women are asked to pose naked all because they are involved with an idiotic website where people are so desperate to become famous!?!

That got me thinking. Wouldn't it be amusing to find Playboy does a "Women Of Diaryland" spread? Curious as to who on my buddylist would sign up first. Would it be you? Sammy? Summer? Hiss? Would there be a day in which I go to Indiana only to have Sara say, "Guess what!?! Playboy called me! I'll be in the July issue!" Well, I'll tell you this much. Whoever did pose, I'd be asking you to sign my issue while you recover from that waxing job prior to posing.

Nudity's nothing new on Diaryland. Just recently, one of my faves posed nude in a hotel bathroom. A while back, there was a bi-sexual girl that loved showing what a photographer took of her, bush and all. I've always been curious about the hard to find redhead bush. Plus, a fellow Diarylander has seen my naked butt several times and has repeatedly commented on the largeness of my balls.

Editor: "Girls are......like......so sweet when they say such precious things."

You can look at nudity as an artistic viewpoint by saying how beautiful the human body is or you can see this Myspace spread as nothing but a bunch of airheads trying to become famous. Frankly, I'm just curious as to whether these girls can work a computer. The first one has a nicely trimmed bush so I don't think I really care anymore.

The week has ended and tomorrow things begin anew. This was the longest week I've ever had thanks to so many errand or various things to keep me busy. Many times I do things to take my mind off of missing Sara. I'll sit in the backyard and watch my dogs sniff around only to miss a small rabbit nibbling on grass. Yorkshire Terriers are not known for noticing things much.

Other times are like today, running on the treadmill after talking to Old Nick. He's encouraging me, like Cass, to get some aerobic activity in my workout. The shin splints are gone so it's not too much of an issue. What I have noticed is how much better I sleep at night. A run on the treadmill puts me out, kind of similar to when I sleep with Sara. Sometimes, I wonder if she watches me sleep.

- - 2009-07-07

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