We have a new member, someone who appreciates a home, someone who is not a Princess and is a bit older. He's rough around the edges, but a man who has worked in bathhouses isn't afraid of the sight of shit. Gaza needed someone who would be here for Wally, to help me in his care, and though the man has tattoos, and came with bites from bed bugs from the flop house he stayed in, he not only helps with Wally, he cooks very well.
The man, who's name as yet to form, likes Queer Gaza. He sits in the garden and because we are land-lock between Little Israel and Little Iran, connects to friends on Facebook on his computer. He doesn't waste water or electricity, he is neat and good company. He doesn't drive a car nor does he want to. He walks. That old fashion method of transportation.
Funny thing about the Christian queer, Golden Boy, for all his dedication to Jesus' teachings he learned nothing from them. Self-centered, self-absorbed to the point that nothing matters to him but his own comfort and pleasure. I'm glad to be rid of him, but very said for Binky his cat. The cat has a home here, people here care for him, talk to him, make sure he has food, pay attention to him, and all that will end at the end of the month.
One day we watched Binky follow Golden Boy to his room only to have the door shut on him before he could enter as well. Golden Boy never bothered to see if his cat wanted in. I have had to knock on Golden Boy's door to tell him his cat wanted in to eat, and maybe have a little attention, though I didn't say that, but hoped at least, while Golden Boy was applying face masks and doing his nails, he might turned to his cat and say, at least, "Hello."
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