The weird thing was, I did. (See God in those terms. But, then, we all do see God in our own terms, right?)
To keep our incredibly greedy landlord off our backs, Bert also did some interior work—he could do anything with his hands, as well as his mouth and other parts of him—and, finally, just in case you thought things might get a little too angelic and boring with us, he ran a massage service. I’m afraid you got that right: we could be whores, too.
Of this, I was the main attraction. Known professionally as Tommy Angelo, a striking looking Italian-type youth but with blond hair. (Northern Italian? Who knows) To be honest, I am not really Italian. I think that back in my various lineages, there have been some Italians, but Bert and I actually came up with the Angelo moniker. My real nam
