It was raining like a mother fucker on Saturday night and the fireworks were cancelled, so The Fella and I spent the evening on the futon with our heads at either end, giving each other foot rubs and watching a ROSEANNE “Feuds and Fireworks” marathon.

Foot rubs.

I know, right?

Anyway after about 6 hours or so of the Connor clan, we decided to call it a night and hit the sack.  Off to bed we padded, where we shucked our shirts and shorts before crawling into bed and falling asleep holding hands.

No hot, sweaty man-sex — we’d had that twice earlier — just a kiss and drifting off knowing the other was there.

I really think I’ve found The One.

It’s the shit. For realz. Sadly, tonight is a rerun of the first three episodes of the second season. Catch up. Tonight. No excuses.

Michael returns to court to appeal Jana’s no bail ruling. Amber pulls Michael aside and says she thinks everything may be connected to her. “You know I lived in LA before I came here. I was young, I was stupid, I made a lot of mistakes. I had a drug problem, went to rehab. I went through a lot of guys. I did some very not so nice things and I hung out with some people who weren’t very nice and what if one of them is trying to hurt Daniel to get back at me?” When Michael asks her to sit down with him and explain in detail, she balks — she doesn’t want Daniel to find out what a whorish piece of trash she really is.

Daniel begs Kevin to help him steal Balfour’s phone from police lock-up. Fisher tells him no — if he gets arrested one more time, they’ll lock him up and throw the key away. I wish they’d throw the whole lot involved in this lame-ass story in the pokey and throw away the key.

Neil arrives at the Chancellor mansion as Jill is screaming for The Cryptkeeper to quit faking another spell and rushes to the old crone’s side. What the hell is wrong with you, Winters asks a horrified Jill.

Billy goes to the Chancellor estate and finds NuMac sitting by the fountain out back. He tells her he’s come to tell her he’s giving up on the idea of them ever getting back together…

Billy: I can’t change. Who am I kidding? No more begging for a second chance because when I get one I only screw it up anyway.
NuMac: I think we’re both just looking for something that isn’t there any more.

Suddenly Old Boy rushes in telling NuMac they need her help — something is wrong with The Cryptkeeper.

Amber confides in Kevin that she is afraid Daniel may find out about her sleazy past. What’s worse, Kev asks — telling the truth or Daniel winding up behind bars when he’s innocent. I’d say having to watch this shit beats all.

Instead of calling an ambulance, NuMac checks TC’s blood pressure. The crone stammers that she has blurry vision and numbness on her left side. Neil suggests she try lifting her arm but she can’t. Still no one calls an ambulance. Jill says she is responsible for this — their fight started the attack. NuMac says that TC’s blood pressure is high and tells Old Boy to bring his car around. Um, how about an ambulance, you dumbasses! (And a bra for NuMac while you’re getting the stuff that is desperately needed…)

The action picks up in NuAdam’s room as he continues shedding the gay vibe to throw Gay Rafe off his trail…

NuAdam: This is crazy — I should shut up. I’m just some client.
Gay Rafe: You’re not just a client, NuAdam. We’re friends.
NuAdam: Friends. Right. I never should’ve said anything…
Gay Rafe: So why did you?
NuAdam: When I first got to Genoa City…I was that guy that everybody looked at sideways, suspicious, and then the thought of you thinking bad of me…it just…it it just hit me that I could take it from anyone but not you.

NuAdam: I’m an idiot. We can forget this.
Gay Rafe: No…we can’t…

NuMac is still reeling from the news that Billy fucked The Saint and Chloe is revelling in her rival’s confusion. “Don’t worry,” Mrs. Billy Abbott smiles, “Billy’s not the only potential baby-daddy so should we just hang out and wait for the results and then you two can get back to whatever it is you were doing…?” NuMac asks Billy if what Chloe is saying is true. It was an accident, Billy says. “Yes, he tripped and fell on top of her while she was naked,” Chloe adds. NuMac storms out.

Jack is all over Mary Jane/Patti but she puts the brakes on and tells him she doesn’t want to be a diversion to take his mind off whatever is bothering him. Mary Jane/Patti tells him that he takes care of too many people instead of himself but she has a feeling that there’ll be one less when Phyllis reunites with Shit For Brains. Ain’t gonna happen, Jack replies. “They just need a reason…a little nudge and the magic could happen again,” the whack-a-doodle smiles.

Back in the chapel, you-know-who’s on her knees again…

The Saint: I know I have no right to ask after all you’ve done — you’ve made my baby a happy baby girl and you made Shit For Brains her father. That means that Cassie was right – her father and I would have a baby girl again one day. That was Cassie’s last gift to us — it was Your gift. This is a sign, a sign that Nick and I are meant to be together. And I know it won’t be easy, but we’ll make it because of Cassie, because of this baby.

She gets up and holds her gut.

The Saint: Shit For Brains, where are you? I can’t wait to see the look on your face when I tell you how wonderful our life is going to be.

At that very moment, Shit For Brains is arriving at the emergency room where The Red Menace tells him that NuSummer is in a coma. (Mad props to the kid playing NuSummer — she plays coma really good.) Shit For Brains flashes back to Cassie. Phyllis urges the dickhead to talk to his daughter, to try and reach her.

Back in the chapel, The Saint is on her knees again…

The Saint: Oh Cassie, it’s a miracle! Your dad and I — we’re a family again. We’re getting a house and in my heart …baby, in my heart, there is a room there for you. For you and No-Duh and me and your baby sister Faith and your dad.

The Saint suddenly realizes her hunka hunka burnin’ love isn’t there yet. She checks her phone and finds a missed call from SFB telling her that NuSummer has been taken to the hospital suffering from anaphylactic shock.

SFB calls The Moustache with the news about NuSummer. The patriarchal dick-smack can’t be bothered to even go lend his support because there’s nothing he can do and he needs to take care of Gashley and her phantom fetus. Nice.

Chloe rips Billy a new one for his cavalier attitude towards the results of the paternity test. “What are you, Billy — a daddy, an uncle, or just one lucky SOB?” Billy tells her that she is a total bitch who enjoys trashing his life and then twists the knife by telling her that NuMac broke off her engagement to Raul. “So what are you going to do, Billy? Chase after her or stick around and see if you’re a daddy again?” a devastated Chloe asks. Billy walks out the door.

The Saint peeks in the window to NuSummer’s room and sees SFB comforting Phyllis.

She races off for the chapel to ask God to strike Phyllis and that brat with lightning so that the path to SFB is clear for her once again.

Since it’s a holiday weekend and most folks have plans of some sort, I’m kicking off the weekend festiviities a bit early with this week’s edition of Man Candy Saturday on Friday. The Y&R recaps will appear as usual (and let me tell you that things are hoppin’ in Genoa City this week!) and the Pride 2009 wrap-up will appear next week. Now let’s get down to business…

Today’s Man Candy is Agim Kaba who plays (or played — I have trouble keeping up with things over in Oakdale the way head-writer Jean Passante races through story and writes characters in and out) uber sexy dim bulb Aaron Snyder on CBS’s AS THE WORLD TURNS.

Mmmmmm — Dirk likey.

Since neither of us had ever attended a Pride event (but mostly because my beloved Debbie Gibson was performing), The Fella and I decided it was high time we joined our fellow faggots in a celebration of all things super-gay. So he made the arrangements and it was off to the big gay city for a weekend of frilly fun and frou-frou frolicking.

Now one of the weirdest things I’ve discovered about The Fella and I as a couple is that whenever we stay in a hotel, we get horny. Exceptionally horny. The kind of horny where the second we get to our room we fuck for an hour until we collapse in a hot sweaty heap followed by a foray to the nearest restaurant to appease our ravenous appetites before we go back to the hotel and fuck some more.

The only problem was that when we went into this particular room, I thought the ten ton door had slammed shut on its own.

It hadn’t.

No, our door was equipped with one of those big brass security guard things and when we entered, the arm somehow flipped open and prevented the door from closing.

Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be such a big deal.

But again, we were big with the horny and before you could say blow-job, our clothes were hanging off the lamp shade and we were going at it pretty fast and furious, each of us unable to get enough of the other. I can’t be sure how much time had passed or how many of the various sexual positions we’d sampled when it happened.

There we were, Tristan flat on his back and me ridin’ cowboy on his seven and half inches when housekeeping passed by, and seeing the door ajar, opened it to see what — if anything — was amiss.

“Fuck!” The Fella hissed.

“Mmm-hmmm,” I replied, eyes closed and not missing a beat.

“Dirk.” His voice took on a more insistent air, his finger jabbing my chest.

I opened my eyes and turned to follow his wide eyed gaze to the member of housekeeping frozen in place at the foot of the bed. Suffice it to say, I think that poor woman is probably still traumatized (not to mention snow-blind) from the sight of my fish belly white backside grinding away on my uber hawt boyfriend’s member. I paused for a moment, not sure if I should or even could pull off The Fella’s turgid pole.

“Oh…oh…sorry…,” the woman mumbled, supressing a smile as she lowered her eyes and quickly spun on her heel and fled. Seconds later, we heard the click of the door shutting behind her.

Alone once more, we both finished — the interruption seemed only to increase our horniness, a troubling development to be delved into another time —  amidst a gale of laughter. And while the orgasm was definitely amongst our most memorable, the remainder of the day was tainted by a the fear that management would ask us to leave the second they saw us passing the front desk.

But that was all forgotten after the earth shattering events of the following day…

TO BE CONTINUED

Lola: I want you to stop calling Tristan your “boyfriend.”
Dirk: Why? That’s what he is…
Lola: No, he’s not. He’s a boy and he’s your friend but he’s not your “boyfriend.” That’s something altogether different.
Dirk: So I should call him my “fuck buddy”?
Lola (wincing and shaking her head): Oh for Christ’s sake — NO!
Dirk: Then what should I call him?
Lola: Call him Tristan. He isn’t your boyfriend. You guys are just… (thinks a  moment before making simultaneous “wax on, wax off” gestures) …”palling around.”
Dirk (making simultaneous “wax on, wax off” gestures): “Palling around”?
Lola: Yeah.
Dirk: So is that code for sucking each other’s cock?
Lola: I should’ve used a coat hanger on you when I had the chance.

..and I itch like a mother fucker.

So because I cannot concentrate on anything but making the infernal itching stop (fuck you Calamine lotion, Calagel, Ivarest, and Benadryl for promising relief and then welching on that!), I suggest you read this much loved post from the past.

Sorry — wrong post. I meant this one.

God, I hope this shit doesn’t get on my dick.

It’s been a whirlwind weekend, everybody (hence the Y&R recap running a bit late yesterday, Ed and Catrina – sheesh!) so whilst I get my bearings and prepare a post about Pride, let’s see what’s on my mind…

~ TV pitchman Billy Mays was found dead in his Florida home yesterday at age 50. First the King of Pop (age 50) and now the King of TV PItchman (also age 50) — who is next?

~ I can’t believe it’s almost July.

~ I read the first Sookie Stackhouse novel — DEAD UNTIL DARK — over the weekend and now I’m hooked.

~ Noodles and Company. I could eat there every fucking day and never get tired of it.

~ Is anyone else anxiously awaiting the premiere of BRUNO as much as I am?

~ Two weeks until the next new episode of TRUE BLOOD? Aarrrrrrrgh.

~ Lunch with Tremulous Cameo today. Can. NOT. Wait.

That’s it, kids — have a great day!

The role of Adam will now be played by Michael Muhney. 

NuAdam tells Heather that lame ass story about being cornea raped with hypodermic needles in prison and like everybody else she buys it. What is in the water in Genoa City?

Heather tells NuAdam that she loves him and wants a life with him. They kiss. Shit — there goes the pocket Newman shtick.

At Crimson Lights: No-Duh approaches gay Rafe about helping him become an emancipated minor…Nikki tells J.T. and Vicboria that she believes Adam, not Estella, is behind gaslighting Ashley and she’s going to prove it.

Mary Jane/Patti tells that creepy fucking Kitty that she and Jack are soul mates. “Sometimes men just need a little nudging,” she coos.

Jack arrives and Mary Jane/Patti hides one “kitty” so she can reveal another. Um, nice body, Pat.

At the courthouse, Nikki tells Gashley that she thinks NuAdam is behind all the Lurch shit, but dumbass Gashley ain’t buying it.

At the GCAC, The Saint shares her excitement about the new house Shit For Brains is buying for her and the wicked cool doily she’s wearing with No-Duh.

The punk tells his mommy and daddy that he’s sick of their juvenile revolving partners shit and is filing for emancipation. The Saint’s head nearly explodes as she tries to wrap her mind around a five syllable word.

Post coitus, Heather rolls on her side to avoid the wet spot while NuAdam tells her how much he loves her and how grateful he is for her loyalty to him. When Vail Bloom looks like a master thespian next to you, you know you are a bad actor.