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Author Archives: German Jones
Stranger.
Tonight was rough. Tears peeked through my eyes. And I had no idea why. Then I was walking home and realized I haven’t seen trees for almost a year. A tree, yes. But not miles of trees. And a yard … Continue reading
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The Red Queen.
I am not very good at milestones. In them, I invest so much potential for change. I’m not sure if I ever change much at all. Hairline recedes and beard advances. I flip the pages on my calendar. And still … Continue reading
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Before night falls.
Today is the first day of February. One day before Groundhog day, two weeks before Valentine’s day, and three months after the dreadful Election day. So what do I celebrate today? It is the year anniversary of the day my … Continue reading
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At last.
My final memory is of Daniel. Thanksgiving night, a club in New York City. We smiled at each other and met on the dance floor. I allowed him to approach me. His older friend told me they were from New … Continue reading
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A Conversation.
“Mitch,” asked Robert, “was that dreamboat that graduated your sophomore year, right? He dated Sarah, my mentor, for a period. I think. I don’t really remember, but if it is the same Mitch I’m getting a starry-eyed, glazed look in … Continue reading
Posted in boys, lust, memory, music
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Bad education.
Tony claims to be jealous of alter boys: the pomp and circumstance, the eucharist and the fondling. He seriously states that as a young boy he was so starved for touch that he would have welcomed older hands and their … Continue reading
Literary interlude
I’ve grown beyond Tony this morning. Instead, I thought you would enjoy this excerpt from the best book I’ve ever read again and again. Page 54 of Autobiography of Red reads: “As in childhood we live sweeping close to the … Continue reading
Addendum (aka additional anecdote)
Tony is still in the dark, thankfully. However, his hired hack publicist seems to feel that the last post may be taken as a bit odd, or, as Robert mentioned, something that should be kept as secret. I’m not sure … Continue reading
Posted in memory, random, Tony
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Florid
Flushed with rosy color; ruddy. Very ornate; flowery: a florid prose style. Archaic. Healthy. Obsolete. Abounding in or covered with flowers. Tony the celebrity believes he should have his own clothing line. He asked me to suggest a possible name … Continue reading
Posted in boys, lust, memory, Tony
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Tony the Tyrant
I recently attended a press junket with Tony where he named his biggest influence as Mr. Tony Bennett. Seems logical, right? The crowd bought it. I did not. Tony Bennett is all smiles. My own Tony prefers to grimace. Tony … Continue reading
Me and Mr. Jones 