On the 1st and 15th of each month, the Parc Thrift Store in Pinellas Park is 50% the entire store, so 50 cent harcovers and quarter paperbacks, including Chuck Palahniuk, Margaret Atwood and my 2nd favorite author of all time, Augusten Burroughs.
The New 2 U Thrift Store in Seminole has coupons for 50% off your entire purchase, again making the harcovers 50 cents and the paperbacks a quarter, including Sara Gruen’s Water for Elephants and Riding Lessons, and the greatest literary love of my life, David Sedaris.
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The Gay Road Less Traveled – John Jernigan
$3.99 on Kindle, the Kindle app is free for any cell phone
Artwork by Mateo L’Artiste, models Possum the Boston Terrier and Cricket the French Bulldog
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Home alone on this Saturday, with no money and no man, I organized my library and discovered I am RICH!…in books. I do have several date possibilities for tonight, with different men, including Jim Butcher, Chuck Palahniuk, John Burdett and R.A. Salvatore.
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David is my mentor, my muse, my lover, my best friend…I wish. He is my favorite author, and I aspire/try/think that I have a writing style similar to his. Go buy my book on Amazon for $3.99 and see for yourself. David is quirky, nerdy, smart, sarcastic…just my type. I Love You, Man! John Jernigan-Sedaris
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“Real love amounts to withholding the truth, even when you’re offered the perfect opportunity to hurt someone’s feelings”
“Hugh and I have been together for so long that in order to arouse extraordinary passion, we need to engage in physical combat. Once, he hit me on the back of the head with a broken wineglass, and I fell to the floor pretending to be unconscious. That was romantic, or would have been had he rushed to my side rather than stepping over my body to fetch the dustpan.”
“Boys who spent their weekends making banana nut muffins did not, as a rule, excel in the art of hand-to-hand combat.”
“Watch, hell,’ Walt said. ‘This is strip poker. What kind of homo wants to sit around and watch four guys get naked?”
“She’s afraid to tell me anything important, knowing I’ll only turn around and write about it. In my mind, I’m like a friendly junkman, building things from the little pieces of scrap I find here and there, but my family’s started to see things differently. Their personal lives are the so-called pieces of scrap I so casually pick up, and they’re sick of it. More and more often their stories begin with the line “You have to swear you’ll never repeat this.” I always promise, but it’s generally understood that my word means nothing.”
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an excerpt from my book, The Gay Road Less Traveled, which I hope to have published in 2016
Ain’t Got No/I Got Life – Nina Simone
On the Monday after Thanksgiving I return to sell plasma at the donation center in Wilton Manors. The center is busy, there are lines of people waiting to check in. Once the donor checks-in, we are called into cubicles to see the not-nurses/screeners, who OK or deny our donation suitability. I get in the queue for the check-in kiosks. 20 minutes later I type my ID # and present my thumbprint, to be scanned into one of the three computer terminals. The screen identifies me, but instead of popping up a screen of 35 questions like “Do you currently reside in a home with an individual who has hepatitis?” the computer screen flashes “Client not appropriate for kiosk, declined. Proceed to special screening intake.” I get in line for the not-nurses, and 10 minutes later, I am sitting in a cubicle with one of the screeners.
“The computer said I wasn’t appropriate to do my questions and that I needed to come see you” I tell the somewhat big-boned not-nurse whose name-tag says “Beatrice.” I am growing a little concerned.
an excerpt from John’s book, The Gay Road Less Traveled, available on Amazon for $3.99.
I’m learning as I go as to how the bathhouse works, while trippin’ real real hard. We pay $17 each to enter. What is expected and normal is to rent a locker for $10. You put all your clothes in this locker and walk around naked, in a towel. There are also little rooms for rent ($25) that lock, with little half bed/bench combos. Kevin & Chris pay for their lockers and are given keys. The attendant asks for my $10. I decline. The attendant says I have to get a locker, where else am I going to put my clothes? I primly tell him that I’m keeping my clothes on. I distinctly remember the aura and color of red coming off of this guy as he argued with me. Chris tells the attendant he is sure once I get inside I will want to come back out and get a locker. Now I had dropped acid a good 20 times in my life, but never like this. Not sure if it was because I was tired after the long weekend, or because it was 2 hits, or maybe the acid was industrial strength, but I proceed to have a kind of out-of-body experience.
Brenda commented on this.
Facebook friends, a friend of mine who used to be one of the hard working under appreciated social workers for the State here in Pensacola has written a book now available on Kindle, John Jernigan’s “The Gay Road Less Traveled.” I purchased it tonight to start it, couldn’t out it down, it was so funny. Graphic, real, and hysterical, John’s writing is endearing, funny, smart and if you happen to be drinking coffee, it may shoot out of your nose at some point during one of his vignettes. You can read it on Kindle.
44 minutes ago
You, Theresa and 12 others like this.
Brenda Seriously, I think john’s writing is as funny as some of David Sedaris’…
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Brenda N., if you have a Kindle, buy this book and read it, totally your sense of humor!!!
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The Tarpon Springs thrift store sign said “Books $1 each or a bag full for $2.99.” Naturally, I spent 30 minutes agonizing over which books made it to John’s house, including Clan of the Cave Bear, A Wrinkle in Time, Water for Elephants, First Lord’s Fury and Naked.
Illustrations from my soon-to-be-published book, The Gay Road Less Traveled, which will be available on Amazon. The artist is both a friend and one of the most talented individuals in the world, Mateo L’artiste.
David Sedaris is my favorite, my love, the biggest influence on me as an aspiring writer, plus he’s cute and smart and nerdy. Mrs. John Jernigan-Sedaris
quotes from my future ex-husband’s book:
“Hugh consoled me, saying, “Don’t let it get to you. There are plenty of things you’re good at.”
When asked for some examples, he listed vacuuming and naming stuffed animals. He says he can probably come up with a few more, but he’ll need some time to think.
“The rabbit of Easter. He bring of the chocolate. The Italian nanny was attempting to answer the teachers latest question when the Moroccan student interrupted, shouting “Excuse me, What is an Easter?”
it would seem that despite having grown up in a Muslim country, she would have heard it mentioned once or twice, but no. “I mean it,” She said. ” I have no idea what you people are talking about.”
The teacher called upon the rest of us to explain.
The Poles led the charge to the best of their ability. “It is,” said one, “a party for the little boy of God who call his self Jesus and… oh shit.” She faltered and her fellow country man came to her aid.
“He call his self Jesus and then he die one day on two… morsels of… lumber.”
The rest of the class jumped in, offering bits of information that would have given the pope an aneurysm.
“He die one day and then he go above of my head to live with your father.”
“He weared of himself the long hair and after he die. the first day he come back here for to say hello to the peoples.”
“He Nice the Jesus.”
“He make the good things, and on the Easter we be sad because somebody makes him dead today.”
“Potential boyfriends could not smoke Merit cigarettes, own or wear a pair of cowboy boots, or eat anything labeled either lite or heart smart. Speech was important, and disqualifying phrases included “I can’t find my nipple ring” and “This one here was my first tattoo.” All street names had to be said in full, meaning no “Fifty-ninth and Lex,” and definitely no “Mad Ave.” They couldn’t drink more than I did, couldn’t write poetry in notebooks and read it out loud to an audience of strangers, and couldn’t use the words flick, freebie, cyberspace, progressive, or zeitgeist. . . . Age, race, weight were unimportant. In terms of mutual interests, I figured we could spend the rest of our lives discussing how much we hated the aforementioned characteristics.”
“In New York I’d go to the movies three or four times a week. Here I’ve upped it to six or seven, mainly because I’m too lazy to do anything else. Fortunately, going to the movies seems to suddenly qualify as an intellectual accomplishment, on a par with reading a book or devoting time to serious thought. It’s not that the movies have gotten any more strenuous, it’s just that a lot of people are as lazy as I am, and together we’ve agreed to lower the bar.”
Dry is the story of Augusten’s battle with alcoholism. Having battled my own demons (and continuing to battle), this memoir really resonated with me. Augusten Burroughs and David Sedaris are my two biggest writing influences, gay men who see life in a different and funny and sometimes cynical way. I chose my baby Cricket because Augusten had French bulldogs. I love your work, Augusten Burroughs!
“I’m lonely. And I’m lonely in some horribly deep way and for a flash of an instant, I can see just how lonely, and how deep this feeling runs. And it scares the shit out of me to be this lonely because it seems catastrophic.”
“I think part of the reason I’m attracted to Foster is because he’s such a mess. I mean, the people I have loved in my life have never been easy to love. I’m not used to normal. I’m used to disaster. I don’t know, as messed up as he is, he’s also sort of exciting, sort of a challenge. I’m accustomed to working for love.”
“What I really want is to sit next to someone on an L.L. bean blanket on the beach in the fall and drink coffee from the same mug. I don’t want some rusty ’73 Ford Pinto with a factory-defective gas tank that causes it to explode when its rear-ended in the parking lot of the supermarket. So why do I keep looking for Pintos?”
“Sober. So that’s what I’m here to become. And suddenly, this word fills me with a brand of sadness I haven’t felt since childhood. The kind of sadness you feel at the end of summer. When the fireflies are gone, the ponds have dried up and the plants are wilted, weary from being so green. It’s no longer really summer but the air is still too warm and heavy to be fall. It’s the season between the seasons. It’s the feeling of something dying.”
“You’re at the crack addict’s apartment? Having a little sandwich?” he says. From the tone of his voice, you’d think I just told him I was hanging out at a playground wearing a NAMBLA t-shirt.”
I aspire to be David Sedaris when I grow up, he is my would-be mentor(and boyfriend) and hang-out buddy. His self-deprecating humor and nerdy geekness are irresistibly attractive 🙂
“From the perils of French dentistry to the eating habits of the Australian kookaburra, from the squat-style toilets of Beijing to the particular wilderness of a North Carolina Costco, we learn about the absurdity and delight of a curious traveler’s experiences.”
“As a child I assumed that when I reached adulthood, I would have grown-up thoughts. By this I meant that I would stop living in a fantasy world; that, while standing in line for a hamburger or my shot at the ATM, I would not daydream about befriending a gorilla or inventing a pill that would make hair waterproof. In this regard, too, my diaries have proven me wrong. All I do is think up impossible situations: here I am milking a panda, then performing surgery, then clearing the state of Arizona with a tidal wave.”
“Twenty-two thousand people came to see Santa today, and not all of them are well-behaved.
Today, I witnessed fist fights and vomiting and magnificent tantrums. The back hallway was jammed with people. There was a line for Santa and a line for the women’s bathroom, and one woman, after asking me a thousand questions already asked, which is the line for the women’s bathroom? And I shouted that I thought it was the line with all the women in it. And she said, I’m going to have you fired. I had two people say that to me today, I’m going to have you fired. Go ahead, be my guest.
I’m wearing a green velvet costume. It doesn’t get any worse than this. Who do these people think they are? I’m going to have you fired, and I want to lean over, and say I’m going to have you killed.” David Sedaris, on working as an Elf
“Today a child told Santa Ken that he wanted his dead father back AND a complete set of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Everyone wants those Turtles.”
“These people were profoundly retarded. They were rolling their eyes and wagging their tongues and staggering toward Santa. It was a large group of retarded people and after watching them for a few minutes I could not begin to guess where the retarded people ended and the regular New Yorkers began. Everyone looks retarded once you set your mind to it.”
The story ends with yet another Santa being ushered into the workshop, but this one is different from the lecherous or drunken ones with whom he has had to work. This Santa actually seems to care about and love the children who come to see him, startling our hero into an uncharacteristic moment of goodwill just before his employment runs out.