Too much Bette Midler...

So… after finding Richard Madison up for auction on eBabe, I went into a bit of a frenzy. Needless to say, I woke up Yesterday with the worst headache and a trashed apartment that looked like I had just come back from a safari in Xenox or something. At some point in the night I made the mistake of trusting this ad, and bought four bottles of Svedka. Oh, gawd, just typing the name makes me sick to my stomach.

      After recovering from my night of drinking and watching old Bette Midler films, I started to buckle down and find some answers from this so-called eBabe site. Apparently, the site was owned by Tom Anderson, the founder of the once-popular website, Myspace. Even after hours of yelling at receptionists for information on Richard’s whereabouts, I was still without any leads.
As of now, I am on my couch eating a pint of Jared & Jerry’s,

e-mailing everyone I know to keep a look out for Richard. Even my friend Sandy said that she was handing out pictures to everyone on her safari in, you guessed it, Xenox. I did manage to heckle the last eBabe receptionist I spoke with into giving me an address to their nearest office. Tomorrow, once I get off this couch and get dressed, I'm going to go find out how Richard ended up as an eligible bachelor for eBabe. Hopefully I can sweet talk my way into finding the address to the winning bidder. Surely if he or she heard my story they would call off the purchase from eBabe and let me have Richard back in my life. But will Richard want to be back in my life is the burning question. I’ll be back with more updates soon.

A bizzare & twisted discovery...

As I woke up, I began my morning routine, which consists of the following:
Coffee
Electric-cig
Shower
Bagel with cream cheese
E-mail
  However, while going through the endless garbage that overflows my e-mail account(s), I came across an advertisement for a  website called eBabe, where they auction off immaculate men to the highest bidder. Since I didn't have work that day, I decided to see what exactly eBabe had to offer. As I looked at the eBabe finalists of the week, I immediately found myself in a coma-like trance. Was it?… No!... It couldn't be!...
  After I shook myself back into reality the truth began to set in. It was Richard Madison... being auctioned off on eBabe! I couldn't believe what I stumbled upon. What was Richard doing on a site like eBabe? Was he lonely? Did he think this was a smart idea? What was awful strange about this whole eBabe scandal was the fact that the picture Richard put up for the site was from when he was seventeen. Something didn’t quite add up right. Did Richard not have another decent picture of him since he was in high school? Or was this a hoax? Sadly I rushed to check my bank account, only finding a mere fifty dollars in it. How was I supposed to beat the current bid of $78,234.86 to have Richard back in my life?
 As of the moment, I'm currently attempting to find out who actually runs eBabe, along with some information they might have on Richard Madison and this startling portrayal of him on their site. I'll keep you all updated on my progress and please contact me if you have ANY information at all concerning Richard Madison and his whereabouts.

Kids are only getting worse...

       After only receiving harsh, nasty e-mails concerning information about Richard Madison, I started to lose hope in the search for my long lost friend. Maybe the people who wrote those nasty things were right. Maybe I was just a sicko, clinging onto old feelings. I decided I needed to get out of the house after realizing I had eaten nearly every Twinkie I received from a pie eating contest about a month ago, in which the grand prize was a lifetime supply of Twinkies. I drove out to my sister's house, where we both made lunch together and conversed. I wallowed on and on about Richard, face down on her kitchen counter like I had just been diagnosed with Blueosis. Before I knew it, my sister was slapping me across my face, telling me to get over this whole Richard debacle and move on. Succeeding my wake up call from my sister, the phone rang, giving my sister quite the wake up call as well.
    Without any explanation, my sister ordered me to drive her to her daughter's school, Palin Elementary. Along the way, the story slowly pilled out of my sister's twitching mouth. Apparently, Shelly, my niece, had been caught in the bathroom at lunch, salting the slug with couple of her friends. The choir teacher found them all huddled in one of the stalls, high out of their minds. When Shelly was asked by the principal why her and her friends did it, she said something under the lines of, "So what if we salt the slug? Ke$ha drinks and does drugs too! Just let me do what I want!"
    After I stopped laughing at Shelly's shout-out to Ke$ha, who recently was placed in rehab, I told my sister that although Shelly seemed like a bad apple, it was only a phase. After that statement I thought about my friendship with Richard. Was my love for Richard just a phase? Did he grow up and forget about me? Was I supposed to do the same?
     As we arrived at Palin Elementary, my sister told me that she'd probably be there for a while and that I should head back home. I still haven't heard back from her on what exactly came out of Shelly's teenage rebellion, but I'm sure life will go on for the both of them. As for me, I sleep another night alone, waiting for some sign that Richard's out there, possibly thinking of me.

Nostalgic pictures of Richard Madison

     After two months of being nostalgic and revisiting my childhood memories, I decided to go through some of my old photos from when I was around 16 or so. Amidst all the photos that I found, many of them were of Richard Madison. Since I'm sure not many know of Richard Madison, let alone what he looks like, I thought I would put together a slide show of the many faces of Richard. If anyone spots a man who resembles an older version of the boy in the pictures below, IMMEDIATELY let me know!
    On a side note, during the process of finding pictures of Richard, a song came on (via my Computer) that struck a chord in me. After finding out that it was an early version of Madonna's up-and-coming single, "Don't Call Me Old" I had a brief panic attack. I remember my sister blasting "Like a Virgin" and "Into the Groove" from her room when I was younger, but never did I imagine that Madonna would still be making music at the age of 75 (or still be touring). While the song doesn't exactly sound like the Madonna I heard as a child, "Don't Call Me Old" is just such a jam that I can't get it out of my head. I have included Madonna's new single as the audio for the Richard Madison slide show. Again, if anyone sees a person that at all resembles the boy in the slide show, contact me immediately at 707-568-79583928392. Thanks again, and shake your booty to Madonna! She'd want that.

A trip to Los Angeles...

    Friday morning, to my surprise, I was abruptly awakened by my close friend, Sandy. She towered over me as I shuffled in bed, holding what looked like to be two plane tickets.
         "We're going to L.A. in two hours! Get up, Richard! Get up!"
   As she mentioned the word L.A., I vomited a tad in my mouth. I had been to L.A. before, but it always ended with me sobbing and complaining about the heat, traffic, countless airheads, arrogant rich kids, and the air that looks like my Mother's kitchen after she burned the Thanksgiving turkey for the fifth year straight. Regardless, I accepted Sandy's offer, packed my bag full of every Hawaiian shirt I owned, and zipped off to the airport. The worst part about flying these days is definitely the mandatory manual internal inspection, or what they like to call, a body cavity search. After losing my self-esteem in the BC search room, we boarded the plane.
   Upon arriving, all I could think was, "Does Richard live in L.A. now? Will I find him on my vacation with Sandy?" Unfortunately, I never spotted him while in L.A. The main reason why Sandy wanted to go L.A. was because she had called in reservations (about 6 months ago) to get a table at this club, the Slur House. When we arrived, we waited in line for around 4 hours, finally getting in as the sun went down. Sandy and I were led to our table and ordered drinks. In honor of Richard Madison, I got a tall glass of milk. I was immediately an outcast because of my choice of drink, since the main purpose at the club was to leave with wobbly legs and a slurred speech (that's their motto). Although Sandy was having a ball, I was miserable. With every gulp of milk that I drank, a feeling of worthlessness and heartache came over me. How am I supposed to keep going through life, knowing that my only true companion is out there somewhere. Once Sandy had a case of the sloppy legs and slurred speech, we headed back to the airport and flew back home. I believe the most time anyone should ever spend in L.A. consecutively should be in accordance with how arrogant and ill behaved they are. If you're a down right good soul, then NEVER, I repeat NEVER go to Los Angeles. However, if you’re the promiscuous, evil kind of person, L.A. is your calling.
    Once I got back to my apartment, I immediately hit the sack. I will soon have more concerning Richard Madison and how exactly you readers out there can help me find him.  Have a good week!

A final note from my love, Richard Madison

With the weeks leading up to Richard's departure from my life, our relationship was as tight as ever. Below is a transcribed note that Richard left in my room for me.

Dear James,
                       Thanks for being a good friend and letting me stay over last night. I Think our friendship will only get stronger with time. Who knew that when you walked in to Ms. Frankel's classroom ten years ago that we'd be a match made in heaven. You are my missing half, James. So, if for any reason we lose touch in the years to come, promise me that when we're both 35 years old we'll meet up and rehash our past. Regardless of what is store for us in the future, 2033 will be the year of James & Richard! See ya in class on Monday, buddy! - Richard Madison


I wish I could count how many times I've read that note from Richard, searching for any hidden clues that might help me figure out where he is now. As I got up on January 1st, 2033, the only thing I could think of was "This is the year of James & Richard". Was Richard also thinking of me when he woke up on the first day of January? Do I pursue our twenty-year-old agreement? Will Richard even want to see me now? These questions flooded my head for the majority of January, leaving me no choice but to simply make a move. Below I have posted a song for my lover old pal, Richard Madison. Wherever you are, Richard, this tune's for you. 

My heart still goes out to you, Richard Madison

After attending the most excruciating New Year's party, I started to consider a lot of things that I had simply pushed aside in the years past. My friends, my desire to become a vegan, wanting to live in a cave, and most importantly, my past lovers.

          I met Richard Madison in the 3rd grade. I had just moved from Martha's Vineyard (which is now called, Lady Gaga Island, in honor of the deceased pop diva) to Issaquah, Washington. This move was mainly due to my father, who was diagnosed with Yuppieitis (disease in which one loses all form of modesty and dignity). Who knew that when I first walked into Ms. Frankel's classroom I would find my eyes gazing upon the man of my dreams. While everyone in the class greeted me with the typical form of kindness, I couldn't help but notice a stocky young chap, who didn't seem to care whatsoever about my presence. Little did I know that Richard wasn't actually disgusted by my presence, but just shy as a bowl of coleslaw at a family picnic. For days after my arrival, I sat across from this intriguing little boy, imagining the thought of befriending him. Finally after a month or so, I offered up my friendship to Richard by inviting him to come over to my new house. Richard agreed to do so.

          It was on October 3rd, 2005, when I realized that I truly loved Richard Madison. From his smile, to his pudgy belly and face, I was completely and absolutely enamored by him. I know, I know, I was only seven when I realized that I was destined to be Richard's soul mate,  but there was just something about him that I just knew right away... Richard was the one (and only) for me. For the next ten years, Richard and I were inseparable. We ate together, we walked together, we did everything together. However, like all great things, our friendship was soon torn to shreds.

           On June 12th, 2015, after a long Saturday afternoon of rough housing with Richard, I found myself being pushed out the front door by Richard's Stepmom. Unfortunately, that was the last time I ever saw Richard. Apparently, Richard's Stepmom thought that Richard should be spending more time with women, and not me. The next day, I climbed up the oak tree next to Richard's bedroom window, only to find a completely empty room. Where could he have gone? I asked around the whole town, but no one had any clues as to where Richard was. Not even Richard's Stepmom would to tell me. My heart, for ten years had been flying high above reality, only to plunge to it's death in one fell swoop. I had my heart broken and I couldn't even figure out how it happened.

          I tried moving on with my life (after months of wearing the same underwear and watching the longest Golden Girls marathon known to man) by attempting to meet some other possible friends. But with every breath I put into a conversation with someone new, the name Richard Madison came shooting back to me. Almost twenty years later and I still find myself wallowing over Richard. What is he doing now? Does he have a wife and kids? Does he still remember me? Does he sell black tar heroin to overzealous, spoiled teenagers? Where is Richard Madison I ask? Where is he?