Actually if I encounter Vinnie somewhere (I have no clue where he is and as well as being bi in the 70′s he had experimented with horse so I think that he may be 1) in a cemetary; 2) in a split level house on Lawn Guyland, which amounts to the same thing doesn’t it?)…

I would want to hook him up with 1 or 2 of the cranky lesbians of Xanga who have blocked me.

I think one of the older MILF type real granola Birkenstock clad lesbians would be better for Vinnie than those lipstick L.U.G. lesbutante soignee types.

For instance, somebody like http://www.xanga.com/charmed who deleted my comment on her lezzie foot fetish poem and blocked my ass.  There are pictures of her and her sisters and she has some nice cauliflower hair.

That would be just about right for Vinnie the Doorman, as well as letting Howie the gay tenant suck on his cock a little bit now and then, he used to also pork redheaded 300-lb Joyce the rental agent.

I wouldn’t put anything past the guy.  He had a certain vestigial amount of class though…not TOO much class, mind you, but…he realized that he wasn’t in high school anymore.  Mature as compared to high school kids.

I mean, he was about 20 when I knew him, his zits had dried, you know.  And he had just about enough air in his head to get a headache once in a while.

I think that Charmed might give it to him with the Eroskin Vac-U-Lok if he’s pleasant and mows her lawn and washes her car.  Or should I say, ‘mo’s her lawn?  He could stand perfectly still and be her lawn jockey.

Poor, poor Vinnie, I take such liberties with his image.  I think he might have thought about me when he was jerking and I did not realize it.  I NEVER think about him when I’m jerking.

Tommy, I thought about you today, in fact I thought about you a few minutes ago because I remembered another silly Vinnie story.  Vinnie had no sisters and he had 3 older brothers and he lived with his aunt and uncle in New Jersey near the building where he worked as a doorman.  It happened to be my father’s building.  Vinnie was 20 years old and had very few responsibilities in life and was not ready to handle responsibility and he knew that.  Vinnie would sneak away from the building and get high, it was in the days when marijuana cost $ 50.00 an ounce, for good Colombian.  Sometimes we’d smoke loose joints in the stairwell, or in one of his brothers’ cars when they visited him.  We thought that we were like WAY cool.  One of Vinnie’s brothers, not sure if his name was Steve or if that was a different one, told us a story about a day at work in an office in New York City.

This brother was short and built like a fireplug.  He’d been working as some kind of temp in the file room of a law or corporate office in midtown and he claimed that a man who was a “fag” was approaching him and playing pocket pool with change in his pockets and the guy was older than him and taller than him and was in business attire but indeed was on the cruise for man meat.  Whatever transpired and Vinnie’s brother said he punched the man right in the nose and gave him a bloody nose and the man whimpered, “PLEASE DON’T BEAT ME!!!!”  I had the overall impression that Vinnie’s brothers were intolerant of gays.  In retrospect I kind of have the impression that they would have administered a gamut of pressure and harassment ranging from mild teasing to physical intimidation if they had any inkling that Vinnie might be tempted to stray in that direction himself! 

Vinnie, like his brothers, was quite butch and spoke in a thick Brooklyn accent and he was not readily spotted by me or anyone else as having homosexual strivings.  It took me quite a long time to get that about him and it may have been something that was starting to flower (?) inside of him during the time that I knew him.  In fact, since he was a few years older than me and I was living with my father after my mother threw me out of the house and my parents were recently divorced, and since I was going through a late high school process of butchification, I looked upon him as somewhat of a role model, perhaps not in the intellectual sense since he was intellectually lazy, but in a stylistic macho hangout stoner sense.

Hahahahahahahaha the whole friendship between us was shallow, yet Fellini-esqe.  He was Italian American and he realized that I was Jewish and gave me a set of recordings of Mendelssohn as a going away present for college.  That gesture was very thoughtful on his part.

I should write a story called, A LOTTA VINNIEATION GOIN’ ROUND.

Vinnie as I remember him, was definately like that.  He vinnieated.

Tommy D, I went down to the World Trade Center PATH station this morning and checked the name of the big hotel across the street from it.  MILLENNIUM HILTON is what I think it was.  It’s a few blocks away from state and federal courts but that is the ONLY hotel like that, which I know about in the area.  I did not check prices.