I’m so tired of being told I’m good at something I never wanted to be a part of my life and never being told I’m good at things I actually want to become better at. It’s a constant blow to my self-esteem to try and be better at something that I work so hard on, try and show my progress to someone I care about only for them to respond in a way that makes it seem like my efforts are unimpressive, mundane, average, or some sort of joke. I try so hard at becoming the person I try to make myself into and it feels like no one notices my efforts. I receive constant praise for things that I was dictated to do since I was young and I don’t want those things to be the resounding characteristics of my nature.

Learning and acquiring skills have always been a challenge for me, I don’t know why. When I see other people get the hang of skills, knowledge, or abilities in hours it takes takes me days to execute. College was no exception. College was, for me, a waste of time and money.

At 17/18, I had little to no drive or ambition at all for anything. I was so tired with life, the people in it, the way people had treated me that I wanted some form of an escape or vacation before I killed myself. I was tired all the time from taking care of my father at home, trying to live up to my mother’s academic expectations for me, keeping up with all the lies about who I was, how I felt, and why I was hurting. I wasn’t actively trying to kill myself either, don’t get me wrong. I just didn’t have the balls or ambition to do that either. But I didn’t shy away from death either and I kept making excuses why I wouldn’t just off myself earlier and earlier.

I didn’t know what to do with myself, and eventually around my the end of my senior year, my parents presented for me a false dichotomy of either going to college or trying to find a job as a drug dealer or burger flipper at McDonald’s. By March of my senior year, my parents really pushed for the cheaper option of the local community college so I could stay at home instead of the far away state college with their dorms, frats, and hundreds of Queer guys living without parental supervision. Because I didn’t want to be with my tormentors for another four years, I saw going to the somewhat far away college as a break from my parents that I could to still contemplate the thought of suicide. I figured I’d milk out the most money from my parents for two or three years, get wasted, plastered, high, and fuck as many guys as I could and then go ahead and either overdose or get alcohol poisoning from too much partying. After all, dumping my parents with tens of thousands of dollars worth of debt would be the best insult after attending my funeral.

Unfortunately, as we can all tell by reading this, I did not die while I was in college. I graduated (reluctantly), with a B.A. in political science and a 2.31 G.P.A. Whoopee. Do I still regret going to college? Somewhat. In what ways do I regret it? I regret it for the major I took. In fact, I didn’t know what major I really wanted to do. I originally went to my school acting headstrong about wanting to be a biology major because that was a respectable science that I was the best at in high school and that I knew would keep my parents off my back. I flopped majors after my father died, I was engineering, nursing, English, and a journalism major at some point. I honestly didn’t know what I should’ve done with the two years I had already spent there. I ended up just going to the guidance counselor and saying, “Okay what major can I declare that’ll get me out of here in the next two years?”. I picked political science because the classes that were required for the major seemed interesting enough and a majority of what I was binge watching on YouTube anyways.

Those classes where honestly all jokes. There really wasn’t anything that I did learn during my time there and I would bullshit every paper and assignment I had to do there in every class. I was trying to get out of college at this point and just trying to squeeze by with the bare minimum. I didn’t understand how the people around me could take these classes oh so seriously and actively strive to get A’s in the class. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with this major after leaving college and I was surprised that other people’s answer was simple and each the same; grad school.

However, I started to get my shit together and start to mentally heal about two years into my time at college. Any major I had high hopes for myself in studying I would have to be taking intro classes with a bunch of freshmen and adding another 3.5-4 years to my time in school. My parents weren’t made of money and there was no way I was going to be able to be able to get enough financial aid and scholarships to add another 4 years to my already messy college career. Those first two years at college I was going along with my plan mostly of having an unhinged, hedonistic time smoking, drinking, and taking whatever intoxicant I could handle and sleeping with any guy that was willing to. My grades of course suffered in the process but at the time I didn’t care. I was really good at the language classes I was taking like Chinese and Japanese, but apart from that my grades where utter dogshit. The last semester before I started to get my shit together and the semester where my father died my G.P.A. was… are you ready for it…? I’m kind of embarrased to say this…

0.47

That was my G.P.A. for my spring semester of my sophomore year in college. The only thing keeping that G.P.A. from a flat 0.00 is my A in Chinese and a D in my physics class. My overall G.P.A. was slightly better at 1.43. And somehow, after 2 years of still not knowing how to properly study or ask for help and still not have the ambition to be better I squeezed by with a 2.31. I have a state job that pays a little more than a teacher here in IL, and yeah there are easy ways for me to move up and about within the state and earn more money. If I could go back I don’t know what I would do differently if I was 18 again in the summer of 2014. Maybe I would’ve gone to community college if I knew my dad was going to die soon. Maybe I would’ve been able to develop some new interests and become a better person than who I am now. Or maybe I wouldn’t change much because I’d still be the same person with maybe only the slight advantage of the power of hindsight. So, I guess if you were to ask me while I was at my own graduation ceremony if I were to be able to go back in time and do things differently, would I? I probably would’ve given you a hard yes with 1,000 reasons why I should and only about 10 as to why I shouldn’t.

First off, I just need to ask; have you ever jacked off to someone that you know believes your existence is unnatural? I think every Queer person has, and I’m no exception. Its not my fault that these people are super hot and post the best thirst trap pics on Instagram. One of my favorites is Zach LaFontaine, a 6’4″, 350lbs (193cm, 158kg) from SoCal walking slab of meat that is honestly my type of man that I both have always fantasized about sleeping with and becoming.

There was a point when he was very prominent on Instagram, and he was even doing frequent AMAs and live streams on IG. I figured he was straight, he mentioned his girlfriend every now and again. Then one day he posted a picture with him in a Blue Lives Matter tank top, lightly bashing liberals but never claiming to be pro-Trump, and some light God analogy. I believe Zach really fell off the deep end for me when I was asking him about how to get bigger and he was answering my questions but then continued to talk about conspiracy theories of government control and medical experimentation. He started using Bible quotes to justify the second coming of Christ and how this is all aligning to God’s plan and what not. Keep in mind, this was like early 2019, before anything COVID-19 related would even begin to show up on anyone’s radar.

I guess Gay and Queer IG must’ve got to him pretty quickly because more and more homophobic without me noticing it. The comments on his photos were getting more and more erotic which I guess was enough to break him because around a year ago he announced that he would be deleting his IG for personal reasons. I tried looking him up a while ago and to my disappointment, I came across his Facebook profile which was filled with such evangelical bullshit I have worked so hard to escape from. Sprinkled in where some stuff about how COVID-19 is god’s punishment against humanities disobedience to him, along with some posts about how he’s proudly going to reject any COVID-19 vaccine that gets released to the public. Still, that doesn’t stop me from looking him up and jacking off to pictures like these

• 

Currently, I’m standing at 5’10” 240lbs (178cm 109kg). I would like to hella increase increase my muscle mass and weight to be at around 320lbs (145kg) with some nice 22in (56cm) biceps and some chesticles. On the other hand, There’s no doubt in my mind that becoming the body I want to have brings about it unintentional consequences. Becoming more attractive means you’re going to be getting more attention. Both wanted and mostly unwanted. I suppose this is why these types of attractive people that make themselves more attractive by slendering down or bulking up tend to stay within those communities. This is especially true within the Gay community, where twinks will mostly only date and hang out with other twinks, and the same goes for bears and bulls.

I also tend to believe that there has to be something wrong with everyone that wants to bulk up and spend almost 6 days of the week in a gym trying to achieve perfection with their bodies. I’m not saying I’m any better than these people. Hell, even with my dad emotionally and physically abusing me the way he did and attempting to kill himself after he found out I was gay, its surprising I don’t have worse Daddy issues than what I already have.

I used to ponder this for a while, until I came across two other body builders that I frequently jacked off to; NAME REDACTED and Dylan Hyphertepen. Those people have already made enough names for themselves so there shouldn’t be any need to post pictures of them here, a quick Google search will suffice. Thankfully they’re both gay so they’d probably expect me to be jacking off to them.

Anyways, if you’re new to being gay or being heavily involved in Tumblr Queer drama, Hyphertepen was this massive guy. I’m talking bigger than Mister LaFontaine I just showed y’all. Hyphertepen had made a name for himself by making a consistent online presence by blogging about his life growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area in the early 2000’s. I remember reading Hyphertepen’s experience and how they vaguely like my own. Dealing with abuse, (although later learning that he would exaggerate what he used to constitute abuse) coming to terms with his sexuality, and trying to make it out in the world as a young gay man.

Along the way, he started getting big. Really big. He went from weighing around 150 lbs (68kgs) to 360lbs (163kgs). He also started becoming really involved in polyamorous slave/master play. Pretty much he was having around four boyfriends that would obey his every whim and desire at the drop of a hat. They all took his symbol he designed to be tattooed on their backs or chest, signed a contract of loyalty and wore a chain around their necks. They were pretty much on top of the queer world and internet celebrities. Then it all came crashing down. There’s so many articles about Hyphertepen’s downfall its so odd to see someone that I had followed from middle school essentially help me through some of my roughest and darkest years truly left me feeling like I had woken up in a different time-zone. The effects of what had happened slowly began to become more and more pronounced the more time had passed. If had already felt surreal as a young gay boy living in the Midwest having the phone number, address and email of someone way out on the West Coast of California who was the closest thing I had to a role model, but having what he did come forward into the light left me with an overwhelming sense of naivete I hadn’t felt in years.

NAME REDACTED, however, is a much lighter story. Yes, I have interacted with him but only recently in the late 2010s. Frankly put, this man has as much emotional intelligence as a dumbbell. If you were to take the most stereotypical high school meathead character trope, make him gay, fast forward 20-25 years, somehow get him a teaching degree, and sprinkle in a touch of superior condescension, you’d have the man that is NAME REDACTED. This man is so unbearably (pun pun) nonsensically liberal that its making me think about Bernie’s Free College For All if it was really a good idea to give some people a college education.

And now we get to me. I already mentioned how it took me till I was about 12 to actually start talking. I had major agoraphobia and social anxieties until I reached college. I was bullied before that for being to effeminate, for not wanting to play football, and not wanting to hang out with the other boys. I always felt like such an outsider almost everywhere I went up until I left high school. I couldn’t join any sports in any attempt to get bigger because of four reasons.

1. The middle/high school I went to from 9th to 11th grade offered no sports I liked. Only skinny white boy sports like track, golf, tennis, soccer, and basketball.
2. Even if the school did have sports I liked, there wasn’t going to be a way for me to go to them. I unfortunately went to a really preppy private high school which meant the only way you were going to have anywhere close to a good time there was if you immensely rich, which my family and I were not. You had to buy all the equipment and uniforms unlike in public school. Because this wasn’t a school near my house, my parents would have to make the 30 min trek to and from my school for training. My parents being the emotionally manipulative and abusive people that they were I wouldn’t want those 30 mins to be filled with more guilt-tripping and more emotional abuse.
3. During the end of my sophomore year, my dad’s botched suicide attempt left him paralyzed on the right side of his body. We still weren’t in the best economic conditions and because my shit bag of a father had done some shady money moves we lost the house I had grown up in the past 16 years of my life, we couldn’t afford to hire a nurse or put him in a nursing home. So my mom and I had to take care of him when I came home from school and when she came home from work.
4. When I did go to a public school because the money was running dry, and the school I attended had raised their tuition without raising my scholarships, I couldn’t join any of the sports they had that I wanted to join such as wrestling, football, hockey, and swimming because I had no experience playing any of those sports and there was no way I was going to be playing with a bunch of freshmen when I was a senior.

There was other stuff I would’ve liked to do in High School, but this is only sport/fitness related. When I was going to college, I really tried to go to Brazilian Jujitsu club which was the closest thing they had to an open wrestling club. I really loved it and it turns out I wasn’t that bad at it! I really tried to make time for it and go when I could. Unfortunately my class schedule and other club schedule wouldn’t permit me to go that often so sacrifices had to be made.

I remember telling my mom about my interest about it and my mom only responded, “Of all the sports you choose to do you choose faggiest one ever. All it is is just men in tights touching each other.” I mean, you’re not entirely wrong. And to be completely honest, dominating or being dominated by a man equal to or bigger than me in size while we’re covered in sweat and musk is kind of an underlying reason why I joined the sport, but that reason quickly faded away once I realized that I was actually good at something and people were complementing me for doing something I actually wanted to do and liked doing.

Now that I’m 24 and am able to live my life without the cursed world I came from that dictated my every move, I want to get bigger, I want to push myself physically like I couldn’t do in high school. I want to join a wrestling club. I want to do all that and more.

edited 26 minutes after originally posting because people are actually starting to look at this site??

(I would just like to clarify þat þis is mostly just ramblings of my consciousness and not how I usually write okay let’s go)

I’m not a creature of habit. I really have tried to be now þat I’m out of college and don’t have any real responsibilities oþer þan going to work and trying to keep myself fÞed and saving money for an apartment in þe city. I’ve also never had þis level of consistency before. I know þat’s a really weird sentence to hear during a global pandemic, but oþer þan actually being sick wiþ þe coronavirus, I get up at a normal time, I send my usual emails to work at þe same time, and get done wiþ chores around þe house at þe same time. I have breakfast, lunch, and dinner at þe same times everyday. Þe only times where some unpredictability is allowed during my weeks is on þe weekends.

So yes, I should be able to just set some time aside for writing someþing eiþer on here or finishing up my superhero story or my queer-coming-of-age young adult novel when aside from chores and mundane work stuff I have more þan enough time to look at my phone and browse memes. After all, þere’s still a lot þat I can write about þat doesn’t involve going outside or being outside for long periods of time.

• I still can write about current events and þings going on in state politics.
  • I try to stay away from federal politics merely because þere does tend to be so many cogs involved þat being able to write a justifiable piece about happenings in federal politics would involve a lot of research þat I believe I’m not willing to do half of þe time.
• I can write about my own personal demons. After all, þis is my own damn personal blog and I can do wiþ it as I fucking want.
• Gay stuff I like
• Diary stuffs
• Stories about my past
• Jokes I’d like to preform in a Stand-up routine þat I can just expand upon.

I guess þere really will be more to come/cum

Normal 0 false false false EN-US ZH-CN MY

 

It has been over a year since I started þis website, specifically on 2019.03.27, and þis is my first post. Still, 396 days later, I am not at all sure what direction I want to take þis site in. Þis site was given to me as a birþday present in December 2018 and it took me till þe end of March 2019 to actually go about setting þe damn þing up. I guess I just didn’t consider þat þere was anyþing interesting enough for me to write about and post online. But þere have been a considerable amount of þings þat have happened since I set up my website.

You probably want a little bit of an intro before I go any furþer. As previously mentioned on þe header of þis site, my name is Cup of Tuesday, þat’s all you need to know. I’m a 24 year old Latino gay man in þe Chicagoland area trying to live after being suicidally (word I’m making up) depressed since I was 14. On þis blog I suppose you’re going to see a lot about my interests, my past, my demons, my stories, my political views and my stances on current events. Given þat we’re in þe middle of þe COVID-19 pandemic lock down my state has mandated till May 2020, þis seems like a good a time as any to start writing shit and screaming it into þe void þat is þe internet. Anyway, back to what’s happened in my life since 2019.03.27

I graduated from college, only to get þe news a week after graduating þat I actually didn’t because of one general education credit þat I was screwed out of five and a half years ago. Þat’s a story for anoþer time. Essentially, I had to take a class over þe summer or during þe following fall semester if I wanted to graduate. I wiþdrew from þe summer course and failed þe fall one.

I was on a grant from þe U.S. Secretary of State and my college to go to Myanmar and study þe language and culture wiþ my best friend for almost þree monþs. It was an incredible experience minus one þing, but þat’s a story for anoþer time. I loved þe tropical climate, þe food, þe walking around everywhere and temporarily leaving þe stress at home behind for a while. I lost 35lbs which I promptly regained back after being back in America for four monþs.

I got a job at a Japanese customs brokerage company right after coming back from Myanmar. Coincidentally þis company also had a branch in Myanmar þat was right across þe street from my apartment in Yangon, þe country’s biggest city. It probably sounds more impressive þan it actually was. My job duties included but were not limited to; data entry on shipments leaving þe country, filing customs declarations (which would fine us $10,000 for every mistake, no pressure), signing random documents I didn’t understand as to what I was signing off on, and staring at a computer screen for 4 hours every day because my workload for þe day had been completed but I couldn’t go on my phone because my boss was seated right behind me. All for þe rate of $15/hr which was paid þrough a temp agency, not even þrough þe company itself. Came in to work in late September and left right after New Year’s.

I got anoþer job right after New Year’s wiþ þe IL Democratic Party which was just walking around Chicago and putting flyers. Þey paid me $400 on my second day of being þere and I left þe next week because I got a call back about a social worker position in þe state I applied for back in September. To be honest I kind of liked þat job. Þe people were nice, I got to eat in some nice and well-priced Italian restaurants in Chicago, (þat þe Democratic Party paid for of course) and I got to make out a lot wiþ þe guy þat got me þe job þat is a frequent slam piece of mine.

I guess þat brings us up to right now. I’ve been working for þe Illinois Department of Human Services as a social worker since 2020.02.03 and it was going great up until þis whole corona-virus pandemic started. No more going on þe train to Chicago to work which I actually enjoyed. No more mindlessly chatting wiþ þe coworkers I was hired wiþ about þeir family drama. No more going out to þe bodega across þe street to buy a random energy drink or having Friday lunch wiþ þe coworkers I was hired wiþ. No, instead because of someone in our office testing positive for COVID-19 my new workplace shut down and kept us at home, ‘on call’, as þey would like to have put it. All þat entailed was just emailing my bosses at þe time I would normally start working, going back to bed, þen going about my day, þen emailing þem again at þe time I would normally leave work and þen falling asleep at 2:00 A.M. or 3:00 A.M. just like in college.

Or at least… þat was þe plan I had in mind during þis quarantine. Þe only þing predictable about life is its unpredictability. Our office closed on 2020.03.27 and by þe 29þ I was already feeling a little off. My nose was getting stuffy, my head started hurting, and I was coughing up a little bit more. I pretty much dismissed it and just blamed regular old seasonal allergies for my inconvenience. However, when I woke up þe next morning, I could not be more wrong. Right as I opened my eyes my head had felt þe way it feels after a night of drinking wiþ your buds. When I tried to take a deep breaþ in þe dense amount of phlegm was clogging me from taking a full, satisfying amount of air, and my chest was feeling a little sore like after a workout. I had a mild coughing fit in which while I could feel þe phlegm in my þroat wriþing in þe very back, þe coughs þemselves sounded like I hadn’t drank any water in þe past day. I turned on my side in my bed and þat’s when I noticed þat my pillow and mattress were absolutely drenched in my sweat.

At þis point I’m starting to þink þat þis could be þe legendary COVID-19 or just anoþer cold. I go downstairs, or raþer try to go downstairs to þe kitchen when I have to take a goddamn break halfway down because my lungs and chest are feeling like I just ran a 5k.

“Okay…” I þink to myself, “þis is…concerning to say þe least. Let’s just see how þe rest of þe day’ll go before I start panicking.” and I eventually make it down to þe kitchen þree times longer þan it would’ve taken me oþerwise on any normal day. For þe rest of þat day and þe next everyþing was getting worse. I couldn’t look at screens for more þan a minute, my chest was feeling like þere was a barbell on it every time I wanted to yawn to take a deep breaþ. What I consider my first breaking point in going to þe ER was waking up to a 102°F (39°C) fever and þe stress in my chest now upgraded to þe feeling like someone was about to preform CPR on my chest. Unfortunately, I was told by þe doctors and nurses þat þe hospital I went to þat because I was considered too healþy (don’t smoke, not terribly overweight, young, not immunocompromised and don’t have any respiratory issues like asthma) and tests were in limited supply þe hospital wasn’t going to issue a COVID-19 test for me. I was sent on my merry way wiþ two Tylenol pills and told it probably isn’t COVID-19, just a cold.

Cut to þree days after þat first ER visit. I’m lying in my bed, huddled up in blankets galore because I’m freezing despite my fever being at 103.8°F (39.9°C). My cough sounds like whooping cough according to my moþer, þe smell of eggs, meat, and cheeses causes me to gag and my piss is coming out looking like þe color of an orange highlighter. I still couldn’t breaþ deeply, cough or yawn wiþout it feeling like someone was sitting on my chest or someone pressing down on it.

Finally, on þe Monday after my first time going to þe ER since my symptoms appeared I was back at it again. Þis time my fever was at 105°F, I was dehydrated but I couldn’t stop sweating, and my coughing fits were getting longer and more frequent. Seeing þis, þe doctor þis time finally administered þe test. Let me tell you, as someone þat’s has stuff stuck up his ass for boþ pleasure and medical purposes, þe COVID-19 test is þe most uncomfortable medical testing I have ever been subjugated to. Here is a diagram of how þe test is conducted: https://health.ucdavis.edu/coronavirus/coronavirus-testing.html

What þis test doesn’t show you is þe nurse holding down your arms because apparently þere are people out þere þat can’t handle a giant q-tip penetrating þrough þeir nostrils and touching þe back of your skull from þe inside, on boþ nostrils. Also þe doctor’s hand placement is wrong my doctor was holding þe back of my head so I wouldn’t twitch while I was getting probed and skull fucked þrough a þird and fourþ hole I never þink much about in my body. Since þis test was conducted in þe evening, I was told I wouldn’t be getting þe results back until tomorrow morning. On þe drive home my moþer still had þe audacity to say þat she believes þe test is going to come back negative and þis is just þe flu or a bad cough. I began þis entire rant in my head in which I was going to say,

“Are you delusional or is your hope þat I don’t get diagnosed wiþ Corona so misplaced by þe facts of what’s happening þat it’s just turned into full blown denial? Þe symptoms I have right now are almost textbook for COVID! I’m hoping it as well doesn’t come back as positive but at þe same time face þe facts, mom! I was in an office þat regularly interacts wiþ þe public during a time of a pandemic, someone came back diagnosed wiþ þe disease in my office and þere’s a suspected second case!”

I had þis all prepared in my head along wiþ a rapid-fire rehearsal so I wouldn’t stutter along þe way, but in þe end, I decided þat I shouldn’t bite þe hand þat is literally feeding me right now. Along wiþ washing my dishes, cleaning þe baþroom, and doing my laundry. Þanks mom, I love you but sometimes I really feel like I need to call you on your shit.

Þe next day I get þe call back from þe hospital and surprise, surprise! I’ve tested positive. I’m ordered to stay in my bedroom at least until my symptoms go away, stay hydrated and use Tylenol. Þat day and þe following four after þat were probably þe hardest. My coughs would keep me up at night which only increased my body aches which on top of my chest feeling like I had a professional bodybuilder giving me CPR didn’t help. I was still þrowing up bucketloads of phlegm and þe instant þe Tylenol wore off my fever would go right back to spiking up to 105°F. Despite drinking liters of pedialyte and almost a gallon of water a day I was still pretty dehydrated.

Þen, five days after I was diagnosed, I woke up one day and it all sort of stopped. Þe highest my fever would get was 101°F (38.3°C), food started tasting normal again, going up and down þe stairs wasn’t as labor intensive on my body as it would’ve been in þe past, and unless I tried to yawn or breaþe in deeply I wouldn’t go into a coughing fit. Þe chest pain and body aches were still pretty bad, and þey were þe last to go. I like to say þat Sunday, 2020.04.19 was my first day of being symptom free. I could breaþe, walk and jump up þe stairs, and I was getting an actual eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Þat same day I got an email from my workplace stating þat I was supposed to report from work at a different state office þan þe one I was normally going to þat Tuesday þe 21^st. My mom and I þought þat it might be a little too early for me to be going back to work þree days after my symptoms started, however I called my nurse and she said it was sudden, but I should indeed be good to go.

Þe day I’m supposed to go to work comes and I walk into þe doors at around ten minutes before my start time of 8:30 A.M. and go up to þe person at þe front desk to check in and she tries looking for my name.

Þey look up from þeir list and says, “I’m sorry what did you say your name was again?” I give þem my last name and even spell þe first half of it so þey know what þey should be looking for. “I’m sorry again but I’m not seeing you on my list. I’ll take your name down and what time you got here but you should be on here if you’re supposed to be here.” Þat should’ve been my first red flag. Why would I not be on þe list of people þat are supposed to be here when my name was on þe list of names in an email sent to me saying þat I should be here at þis time?

At þis point þe story gets very bureaucratic and dry wiþ state policy so I’d just like to end wiþ two þings.

One, if you’re reading þis during þe 2020 COVID-19 Pandemic lockdown, please still continue to stay home. Þe same goes if þis ends up being seasonal and þey lock us down every April and May like þey’re þinking might happen. I hope my experience can help one person at least see þe importance of staying home during þese infectious times, or maybe get a slight laugh out of it.

Two, I will be trying to use þis blog more, maybe starting off wiþ random stories from my life þat I remember or someþing from my life philosophy or someþing lightly political since everyþing is dominated by þe COVID-19 Pandemic and I can’t go out to restaurants to review þem. I hope you get somewhat of a kick from reading my stuff and come along for þe ride.

-Much love,

Cup of Tuesday ❤

P.S. Þis might get very gay pornographic from time to time