He wasn't really a bodybuilder, but he had a respectable physique, big biceps and a thick, hairy chest, and he never wore a shirt.
Sounds nice so far, except he was crazy. Whenever he saw me get Chinese, Thai, or pizza, whenever he saw me with a Price Chopper shopping bag, he went into a tirade. That stuff was destroying the world!
Chickens were tortured to death so we could eat them!
Bananas were grown by slave labor and transported through gas-guzzling, ozone-depleted trucks, with the truckers denied access to health care!
I should only eat free-range, free-trade, gluten-free, locally grown, organic, tie-dyed vegan goop.
He had a girlfriend who was even worse.
Plus about a thousand palms, bonsai lemon trees, rubber trees, paduratas, ficus, and ferns. It was like walking into a rain forest.
With those ghostly, whistling Peruvian panpipes, flutes, tambors, and ocarinas playing constantly.
The uncensored story is on Tales of West Hollywood.