Cuttlefish Defense

I woke up several times throughout the night, and woke up for real around 5. The gums on the left side of my mouth behind my molars were swollen, sore, and overly fleshy, but that was only part of what woke/kept me up. In spite of having my door closed I could still hear and sense things going on in my apartment. When I finally did get up, Bryan was the only one there, getting ready to work a double.

Jay messaged me and Brian, asking to move our shoot up from 7pm to 4pm, which is actually preferable for me. Ben was staying in Palm Springs at the Triangle Inn, and sent me pics of the guy he was with as a consolation prize for not being able to see me.

Tinashe is one of the headliners for Pride, and I had messaged Hugo as much yesterday. He finally responded, talking a little about life - he's not consistent in condom usage or lack thereof, had fucked some guy bare earlier today. He still hasn't been able to see the Daddy he was really excited about seeing last time we talked. Asked if I was dating anyone. I'm not. He mentioned that Paul had taken a naked picture of him and it took me a minute to figure out who he was talking about. Red haze started rushing in and I snapped the chat window closed. It still colored the rest of my day

Tim asked if he could come by with Pupple. I was just getting ready to go to the store, so I said sure. Groceries cost a little more than I'd anticipated but it's not like I got anything pricey. My usual tofu and "meatballs," plus bread, tortillas, and water for Palm Springs. Somehow all of that came to $70. I closed my door when I got back so I could spend time with Lady Miss Friday - the whole reason I stayed in SD an extra night. Tim left at some point, but a friend of mine posted that he was stuck downtown. He can't order an Uber because his phone has spotty internet...or something. Picked him up - he was tipsy enough that he couldn't really hold a conversation - but finally got him safely home and went to bed. Just before I went to sleep I got an angry email from a client's wife. Given the rambling nature of it, I imagine she was drunk. She apologized before the end of the night.