Justin's Life... June, 1998

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June 3, 1998 - Wednesday


Starting Monday night, I met three Justin's Koool Page readers in twenty four hours. I hadn't intended on doing a marathon; it just turned out that way.

So, anyway, during the course of meeting each of the three guys, I came to realize how much can be told simply by the last five minutes. So, instead of trying to chronolog each and every event that occured during the meetings, I'm going to veer on the side of understatement for once and simply tell you how they ended.

Monday Night:

After Larry and I saw David, a 27 year old guy from Orange County, to the door and gave him a hug, I ran downstairs and wrote the following e-mail:

Date: Tue, 2 Jun 1998 00:37:50 PDT
Subject: Just why are you checking e-mail at this hour?


And just why are you checking e-mail at this hour? Shouldn't you be asleep or something... I mean, did you really think I was going to run downstairs and send you an "It was great to meet you" e-mail before I went to bed? ;-)

Seriously, it was really nice to meet you...

[insert flattering remarks]

I really would be happy to take some "pro" quality photographs of you, if you'd like sometime. It's amazing the difference a high end camera will make all by itself. :-)

Anyway, you're a smart boy so I don't need to overload your e-mailbox with things you already perceived.


Tuesday Afternoon:

After having lunch and watching Object Of My Affection with Jason, a 22 year old guy from LA, I stood at the front of the theatre and said that I had to get going on to my meeting with the third guy in Santa Monica. Jason had asked me earlier if I wanted to go to Disneyland on Wednesday with him, his brother and his brother's girlfriend, and I'd said I didn't know, not wanting to commit to an entire day with someone I hadn't met. I'd completely forgotten about it as I was saying goodbye so when he asked again, I was caught off guard and came up with the immediate lie that I had to work the next day on web site stuff. I mean, it wasn't a lie per se, but I knew that it was a lie and he knew it was a lie. I felt like a complete heel, knowing that I was lying and him knowing that I was lying, but I gave the work excuse nonetheless... and for the entire drive to Santa Monica, I kept thinking about the irony of human interaction that requires us to lie even when both parties know we're lying. I mean, he knew I meant, "You're ok guy and all, but I just don't think we're going to hang out again." and I knew I meant that, but why was I "required" to say that about working?

Tuesday Night:

After having dinner with Brian, a 25 year old guy from Orange County, I walked back to the parking garage with him and said the customary, "It was nice to meet you." then followed it up with an "If you're bored sometime, give me a call." I shook his hand and walked on to my car. It was that simple and my final goodbye meant just what it said. He knew the full translation was "If you're bored sometime and can't find anyone to go see a movie with or whatever, give me a call and perhaps I'll go." He knew it wasn't a "Monday Night" or a "Tuesday Afternoon", but somewhere in between.


In addition to thinking about the irony of human communication, I kept thinking about the movie Object Of My Affection on my way to Santa Monica yesterday. Perhaps I was thinking about it so intently because "Tell me about yours and Larry's relationship," is the one question I get consistently asked when I meet someone because of the web site, and it was about a non classically defined relationship like ours... but I think I couldn't get it out of my head because, basically, move a few things around, change a few details and Larry's Jennifer Aniston and I'm Paul Rudd.

How a movie about a pregnant straight girl and a normal gay guy could be anything like my life sounds strange at first, but the dynamics of the relationship between Jennifer Aniston's character and Paul Rudd's are quite similar to the dynamics of my relationship with Larry. There's an unbelievably strong love there, but there's also that need. I mean, I think I could write for hours and not possibly contain all the feelings and emotions I need to explain it... but while Object Of My Affection wasn't the best movie itself, it came as close as I think I've ever seen to describing my relationship with Larry. I mean, like I said, there are differences because we are both guys and gay, but the similarities are resounding... and at times, our relationship would resemble Object Of My Affection in no way whatsoever... but, often, it would be more on the mark than off.

The Hollywood, everything's perfect, ending didn't sit well with me because, as much as I would like it to happen that way, should everything "end" that way, I don't think it would. I don't think Jennifer Aniston's character could let it happen that way... and like I said, perhaps it's different because she was a woman and he was gay, but... well, it's got me to thinking, which is always bad. Ignorance is bliss. I believe that whole heartedly.


Earlier today I got e-mail from a guy who lives in Chicago with whom I've been corresponding semi-regularly. He told me that he'll be appearing in a national Sunday flyer for Kentucky Fried Chicken in July. I'm jealous, I admit it. I mean, on one hand, I know that I've done absolutely nothing to even try to appear on a KFC flyer, but on the other hand, I have this website where guys from nearly every country in the world visit. I mean, the logical part of me says, "You've got people who regularly tune in to read what you write and who know what you look like and more of those guys than not think you're cute" but another part of me would rather have a Sunday flyer with my picture plastered all over it coming into millions and millions of households. So what, they wouldn't know the me behind the picture. I'd love for someone to pick me just because of how I looked, not factoring in the brain.

I mean, like guys with webcams, people sit around hours watching them, not reading about their lives, not engaging with their minds, but simply looking at them because they're cute, entranced by the human ant farm. Yet, I've come to the simple conclusion that it's all about dick. If I were to show my dick on this site, as via a webcam, you guys would tell your friends and then their friends would tell their friends and before you know it, there would be tons of people staring at me and my dick... even though it's just average sized and I haven't been to the gym in months. It wouldn't even matter... a dick. It's enough.

Yeah, ok, I realize a KFC flyer has nothing to do with showing dick, but it's all about physical appearance and how it'll get you fame. I guess, in my own right, I do have some sort of fame, but what I wouldn't give to have someone recognize me on the street (which would be more likely if I were on a KFC flyer). It would make my day, my week, even my month. I admit it. I'd love to have a book out, where I could go into any bookstore and find something I wrote with my picture on the back cover.

Of course, writing this now I realize that there are tons of people who are famous not because of how they look, but rather because of their minds. I guess it just seems so much easier for those who look great and for the Pamela Anderson Baywatch types. Look ok, show some flesh, boom, you're famous. Look ok, don't show some flesh, try, try, try, and maybe you'll get there one day.

Wanna see my dick?


June 4, 1998 - Thursday


First off, I was being facetious with that last question: I wasn't really asking if you guys wanted to see it... but apparently more than a few thought I was. I guess the several responses in the nature of "Yes, oh yes." really just illustrate my point.

It has come to my attention, though, that I'm "something of a celebrity here in Australia." What that means, I don't know, but even before I wrote that entry above, I got e-mail this past week saying, "Have you been told that you are very big Down Under?" Perhaps I'm just looking for my "fame" in the wrong country.

And speaking of being "eye candy", I won the video camera/video capture card combo that I placed the bid on the other day. It ended up costing $150, but I think that was still less than half of retail.


June 9, 1998 - Tuesday


After writing that letter on Monday night to David, the first guy (the cute 27 year old from Orange County) from my "meeting marathon" last week, I got a response which made me smile:

Thanks, Justin, but I didn't fall into your little trap ;-) Not that I wasn't tempted to look.

You can tell by the time stamp that I'm now reading your message around 8 in the morning (at work - no less - thanks to AOL Netmail).

Anyway.....(see, there's that word :).....it was very nice to meet you and Larry last night. I had a great time and I'm looking forward to spending some more time together if you like!

Without falling all over myself, let me say that you are one good looking guy. Even with your fancy camera, the pics on your website don't do you justice. You have the coolest blue eyes and a great smile.  And don't let Larry tell you your butt is too big - it looked good to me!

I guess I should get some work done now.  Thanks for the offer about photographing me - I may take you up on it.

Take Care and I'll talk to you soon,


To it, I responded:


Didn't fall for my "trap", eh? How do I know you didn't READ the letter last night and just RESPOND this morning? Huh? Yeah, that's what I thought. *grin*

>more time together if you like!
Hmmm... I think I'll have to get back to you on that one.

>Without falling all over myself
*big cheesy grin*

[flattering comments deleted]
*still grinning*

Instead of overloading your mailbox, 'cause you know I could *smile*, how's about I just say: Imagine you've gone to Vegas, played the slot machine and won a $1000... but you're only seventeen. I think that's the feeling I've got right now. ;-)

So, you wanna go see The Hanging Garden?

777Film.com says it's playing:
Laemmle Music Hall Theatre
9036 Wilshire Boulevard 1/2 Block East Of Doheny, Beverly Hills (310) 274-6869
Showtimes: 5:00 - 7:15 - 9:30

Edwards South Coast Village
1561 West Sunflower, Costa Mesa (714) 540-0594
Showtimes: 1:45 - 3:45 - 5:45 - 7:45 - 9:45

Isn't that second one down near you somewhere? I, of course, can't go today, but I think tomorrow or Thursday would work without a problem. Thursday would probably be best for me, but... I'm 80% sure Wednesday would work, too.

Anyway, dude, I gotta run... to go see Object Of My Affection.


P.S. I started writing the diary but ran out of time and couldn't think of what to say anyway. :-)

I had started writing the diary Tuesday morning... but I couldn't figure out how to say, "David is really cute and I had a great time flirting with him last night and I'm quite giddy around him, etc. etc." without going on and on about how it all related to my relationship with Larry... and without upsetting Larry should he decide to read it.

That's what the Vegas remark alluded to... having something really great and exciting, yet not being able to tell anyone. Apprehension with happiness. Uncertainty with adrenaline. But even that was intentionally vague and only in e-mail to David.

So, anyway, shortly after parting with Jason, the second guy, I realized how much the last five mintues told about a meeting, and came up with the "I'll write about that" idea. While it wasn't blatant, I figured it gave away enough info that anyone reading it knew what I was saying about David.

Sooo... David responded to my e-mail and we eventually decided on the Thursday 9:45PM showing in Orange County so that Larry could go along. Larry and I got in the van and drove on to Orange County where we picked up David at his apartment. From there, we went to dinner at Planet Hollywood then on to the theatre... and that's where the trouble really began.

First, we sat in the seats:
[David] [Justin] [Larry]

but David complained that his chair was broken, and so we got up to move across the aisle.

When we did, though, Larry sat in the middle seat... where I'd originally been sitting.
[David] [Justin] [Empty Seat] [Aisle] [Empty Seat] [Larry]

I'd already told David that I was going to give him a stiffie check during the stiffie inducing part, and there was absolutely no way that would happen with Larry sitting in the middle.

Needless to say, I was not happy and stopped the move dead in its tracks.

For the next five minutes or so, while the movie was playing, I ran back and forth between the two sections, trying to convince Larry that he should move back or let me have the middle seat like I originally did...

Eventually, now Larry and I both in a bad mood and David no doubt feeling awkward, I took the "broken" seat in the original section and insisted Larry move back:
[Justin] [David] [Larry]

When the stiffie inducing part did come on, I felt over for a grab, just like I'd told both Larry and David that I was going to. David pushed my hand away, later even questioning why I got a hard on during that scene.

So, anyway, Larry and I took David back to his apartment, went inside for a quick tour, then headed back towards LA. The ride wasn't great. In fact, the conversation is etched in my head, verbatim.

"You can't live with me and date."

"I know... that's why we keep going in circles."

"Then move out then!" in a raised voice and firm grabbing of the steering wheel.

"Calm down. That's not what I said."


June 15, 1998 - Monday


A few weeks ago, Larry asked if I'd ever heard of a show called "Ten Naked Men Singing." When I told him I hadn't, he responded that his office manager had told him that apparently there were ten naked men singing in some sort of theatre type show... and that it was really funny. I knew better than to think that there were actually ten naked men singing in front of an audience but said yes when Larry asked if we should get tickets. After all, "Ten Scantily Clad Men" (the more appropriate name of the show, I figured) couldn't be all that bad.

And so the office manager got tickets for last Wednesday's show for Larry, Jeff (the UCLA law student), two of Larry's business acquaintances, herself, and me. I didn't really think about it much as other stuff, like registering for summer school and life in general, was taking my time... and well, like I said, it was only "Ten Scantily Clad Men" on a far off stage, probably so far that my 20/40 vision would see nothing too exciting at that.

So, anyway, Wednesday night we all had dinner at Roscoe's Chicken & Waffles in Hollywood then went on to the theatre. After getting "sit anywhere" tickets, we talked about how we might not all find seats together (as we arrived very shortly before showtime) then continued looking at the pictures of the cast on the wall. As we waited for the people in line in front of us to go into the actual theatre (as opposed to the lobby), we talked about stuff like which actor we thought was the cutest and made guesses as to which was the purportedly straight one.

By the time we got to the entrance of the theatre itself, we'd seen maybe two or three dozen pictures, including headshots, scene shots, and complete cast shots... and all of them lacked one thing: Nude men. There was a shot with a guy in a jockstrap, there was a shot with the guys from the lower waist up, and there was a shot with the guys all covering up... but there were no shots of "Nude Boys Singing" (which is what the show was really called as I came to find out from the posters on the wall).

So, we go on inside and I see that the "theatre" is actually a large square room about 25 feet across with two rows of chairs on three of the sides. The "stage" is a section of shiny floor surrounded by the carpeted area on which the spectator's chairs are sitting. It's not dumpy or anything, but it's small... more like a large room with folding chairs on the floor for the first row and folding chairs on a custom built step for the second. It has professional lights in the ceiling, a control booth, and piano, but it just isn't a theatre, as in a movie theatre. I remember remarking about how I half expected some half clothed woman to come out and start doing a striptease: That's the feel it had. I mean, it really wasn't slimy, but the room was too small to have even a high school play theatre feel.

So, anyway, we split and find clusters of seats. I end up sitting on the front row, stage left, back corner, and Larry, Jeff, and the office manager sit on the row behind me. We talk for a bit and read sections of the program, noting T. Bedford Scofield's (one of the actors) thanks to his girlfriend, then five or ten minutes after 8PM, when the show was to have begun, the lights go low. I turn around and wait for the scantily clad guys to come out when smoke falls from the ceiling. It's too dark to really make out anything... except I can see all the guys coming out and they appear to be naked. I mean, it's really too dark to make out anything for sure, but it doesn't look like they're wearing little bikinis or g-strings... then pow! the lights come on and they're all completely naked.

My eyes, and no doubt everyone else's, dart from dick to dick to face to dick to dick to face. I'm actually sitting no more than four feet away from all these completely naked guys... nice looking, average to nicely built guys... with completely unfluffed dicks. And while I'm sitting there, pretty much taken aback at the sight of eight totally naked guys standing in front of me, they start singing a song called "Gratuitous Nudity" and choregraphically shake their "money makers" at the audience.

I was laughing and smiling and staring... and so was everyone else. It was completely guilt free: The first song was even making a point of that. And the guys had singing talent; they weren't just picked because they were nice to look at. And they didn't make the audience feel inferior: It was so great to actually see, well, eight naked guys, period, but it was even greater to see eight naked guys who weren't Adonises or gym bunnies or hung like horses, but regular, fit, good looking, everyday Joes... and the songs were funny

Really, it had almost an enchanted feel to it... it was like the hot tub, times eight (and sometimes nine)... with a jokingly sexual overtone... yet no guilty sexual overtone at all.

And so, the show went on and the guys sang one barber shop quartet-ish song after another. Listening to the lyrics of the songs, I couldn't help but laugh at all the "in" jokes and "been there, done that's". I mean, it was sooo great. Such a combination of "gratuitous nudity" and humor and entertainment. And contrary to my initial thoughts about the size of the theatre, it's smallness was an incredibly huge perk. I mean, without getting too crass, let me just say that I could tell that Mr. T. Bedford Scofield was the only cast member who hadn't been clipper happy, if you know what I mean. (No, not just there... you could see that from twenty feet away... think a little lower... yep, they were THAT up close and personal )

The scenery and humor made it all pretty darn wonderful, but there were really great moments, like when Christopher Gilbert, the one, shall we say "intact", Nude Boy Singing, sang a song called "Nothin' But The Radio On" and did a Marilyn Monroe impression during parts of it.

It even got interactive during the second act when Tony Davis, another one of the performers whom I thought was particularly attractive, came over and sat down on the steps beside me. In front of the audience of about 70 people, he shook my hand and asked my name. I responded, "Justin" (in what I was told later was a much deeper voice than normal), then he asked what I liked to do when I was bored. I had no idea. I mean, I'm not the best at answering questions in front of an audience. When those questions come from a buck naked guy, I'm pretty much tongue tied. I did manage to get something out about going to go see naked guys singing and he asked back something like, "There's more than one of us?" which got a laugh.

When the show was over, we exited the theatre and the previously nude guys were out front signing CD's. One of those guys, none of the ones from above, sliently mouthed "Hi" to me. I smiled back.

As we walked to the car, Jeff asked if I noticed that a lot of the guys "kept checking (me) out." Besides the one guy out front afterwards and the semi-randomness of Tony Davis sitting down next to me, I hadn't... and was amazed that Jeff said so. I mean, he and I haven't been on the best of terms, so for him to let me know and point out the fact that guys were checking me out was even more amazing...

So, needless to say, it was a really great night. One which I've thought about several times since.


June 17, 1998 - Wednesday


Ever think about how you'd drive down the freeway at 120 miles per hour if you knew no cops were watching and you wouldn't get a ticket? We all do things and behave differently when we know we're being watched or when the possibility of being watched is there... and I'm no exception.

In recent days, I've had to do a lot of searching to figure out what I want in life and in the course of that searching, I've come to realize that as it is now, this diary is doing much more than simply relaying my life. Of course, I known that for quite a while now, but only when I stopped to think about it did I realize how much it's actually influencing and changing my life. It's the danger of becoming self aware. My life has become one big "Click here" and instead of living it the way I want to and writing about what I did, I'm actually subconsciously modifying what I'm doing so that I can write about it. If it were simply one thing or even a number of things, I could correct that, but I've come to realize that knowing that I'm going to be writing about my activities for the world to read, for the people who know me to read, to be forever chronicalled, actually changes what I do and even how I think.

Sure, I could leave things out or smudge it into not a lie but not the truth... but the whole point of this diary is to reveal my life, for it to not be fiction. It's just that not being fiction, it actually changes what I do... and if you think about the police car/speeding analogy, you may have some glimpse of what I'm talking about.

And so, I've decided to take some time off from the diary and live my life for me... the diary will be back... but not until January 1, 1999. Saying that, I should also say that I'm not disappearing. I'm still doing the Las Vegas weekend at the beginning of August, and like I said before, I bought a video camera to set up some sort of interactive chat. I also intend to add a message board for a more community type forum, and I'll still be doing the newsletter. Beyond that, I'm trying to think of other ways, ways which do not chronical my life per se, to keep the connection between you and me intact. So while it won't be in this format, there will still be interaction.

Hopefully, in the coming months, I'll start living my life for me, unconcerned with how it'll appear online, and when 1999 rolls around, I'll be able to write with the same candor and uninfluencedness of when I initially started.

One final thing before I sign off for now: For what it's worth, I'd love to tell you about how Larry, David, and I spent the weekend together at the ranch, about going to summer school at San Diego Mesa Community College next month, about my trip to Hawaii next week, and about my life in general for the next six months... but just from the time I decided I was taking a break from the diary (about a week ago) until now, I've already found myself doing things differently. It has effected. It does effect... and I have to get back to living for me.

Click here to move on to the next set of entries.

© 1998 Justin Clouse


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