Hello ebabies,

I have been watching too much gay porn. At least, that's what my friends say. One of my best buddies, Roban, a building contractor called to give me an update on his Malibu Canyon property (it's safe - last fires back in '93, he lost everything). The news is looking good up Topanga way: with the Santa Ana winds a bad memory, there is 75% containment there. So, he was telling me how the owner of a house he's been working on up on Nichols Canyon is upset because Roban is glued to his house, ready to evacuate if necessary.
He went on to say, "Yeah, actually, I am kinda glad of the break. Being a contractor really takes its toll on my body. A lot of my work, I have to do on my knees."
I laughed hysterically and there was a pause.
"You've been watching too much gay porn," he said.
Sorry, but I'm still giggling as I write this.
Ah, the perils of porn.
Everything becomes...a double entendre. I see sex in every situation.  Except the damned fires.
Back to my own House of Fire for now...


Aloha oe,

A.J.