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17 September 2002

So, perhaps I should introduce myself -- I don't think I ever did, really, even if you dig through my rather lean archives. I'm a 30-year-old man living in a fourth-floor walkup apartment with a roommate and a dog in Park Slope, Brooklyn, New York. The neighborhood is so named because it is adjacent to Brooklyn's Prospect Park, from which the streets run downhill towards the harbor in the distance.

My roommate, Juan, was my boyfriend for six years; we broke up, I moved out, the economy soured, I moved back in, and now we're a couple again, but this time strictly of the Oscar and Felix bachelor-buddies type. (I'm the Felix, even though I'm way more butch than Tony Randall could ever be.) Our dog's name is Poochy; he's short and hyper and tuff! Imagine what Joe Pesci would be like after face-hoovering a few lines of Colombian Slim-Fast®, and then throw a fur coat on him -- that's Poochy in a nutshell.

Me, I do my part to keep our little household in meat and potatoes by writing freelance reviews of digital cameras for Popular Photography and I'm still looking for the right man to settle down with, and I'd really like a full-time job again, but overall my life is going well. And that, I guess, is that. More later...

posted by Throbert | 9/17/2002 08:16:00 PM |
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throbert says:
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