Who else is willing to step up and become the Soul-Mate of my dreams and fantasies? Are you ready to electrify yourself? Are you ready to be sculpted totally smooth and naked? to the point where I can lick and moisten every ripple of your six-pack abs, every inch of your smooth inner thighs? Are you ready to skice me with your third fist? Are you ready to get down and dirty? and become one of my Lads? Even though I do not always tell you exactly where I am going, you shall always know where I am, whether I have hoofed it back to Sporaticus because I have forgotten what I had done with the Gargoyle sculpture? Are you ready to take this evolutionary journey with me?
This journey goes through the MagicLand of Picasa, a land of demonic dreams. Will you be ready when I pull your name out of a hat? Will you be ready for me to bless you long after I die in relative obscurity? The world rewards the artistic achievement with indifference, if not ridicule, . . .no amount of success can stave off sickness or death. Will you not realize that I was always more then willing to withstand ridicule? Will you discover that there was never a time, never a moment I did not realize that it was the artist’s fate always to be sacrificed to the spirit of the age?
I am inviting students from the University of Diversity to take my intellectual property and create magical performances and portrayals every day. Every day is Independence Day. The mechanism begins when you are willing to play for a living, to portray Tobias, Napoleon, and the Radical Pirate on Saturday morning field trips to the library. Phoenix and the Prince have their victorious Supra-Heroic day against Mr. Incognito and Night-Hawk.
The mechanism begins with two or three minute fight-dances/punch-drills that end with the Supra-Hero flexing as he watches the Villain falling. While we have been busting our butts searching for Levi Hamil, he has always been here, with his smile keeping us smiling.
One day, I will have wheels again, and I will have to widen my territory yet again. I will move again Are we going on that trip together, Ca-Zac? Are you the Emo-Lad that I am looking for? Are you going to know the world I choose to know? Are you not the kid with the painted-on cat whiskers whose face beams at me in front of the library? Just wait until I see you again! You know my eyes will dart straight for those legs of yours, wondering if in the fight-dance, you finish me off with your fists or your inner-thigh slaps? I always know you are out there somewhere.
And who is this Adonis I shall meet just in time for the nineteenth of October? The Lad with the Double Diamond roughness in his voice? The sooner we reunite, the more time we have to put it all together. I know he is out there somewhere. He is no longer a moon-beam__he is now moon-glow. I invite him to let me show him__not tell him__how in the Green Room before every performance the magic begins to happen.
Watch us transform you from somebody who takes self-portraits into a Desk-Top Icon.
Gregory Gregarious here. I have got your number. Yes, it is time we have ________________[fill in the blank.] It is time to mentally and verbally challenge each other, even though I am more than twice your age I cannot help but flirt with you. With one sentence at a time, I am flirting with you__my potential Soul-Mate__my FB-Lad. My first impression of you is I want your legs! And you do not like it because you see yourself more than a leg model__so much more, good grief.
When I created this leg fetish, you created me. Now I am ready__itching to get that itch again. And why not? Let us go for broke.
Even Henrietta Heron writes in her column, homoerotic art and why not?
I am ready to meet you out at the Ascenica Night-Club and help you transform from a magazine cover to a Desk-Top Icon.