Talk About a Bad Hair Day!

A merkin is a pubic wig, originally worn by prostitutes to cover diseases like warts and syphilis.  Nowadays, they are used as body adornments and can be made entirely by hand of some very posh materials.  They are worn by women as body furniture and drag queens to cover their male genitalia, as well as people who have lost their hair due to drugs or diseases.

These pubic wigs come in many designs are available in a wide spectrum of colors and styles...they come in curly, straight, wavy, and "natty" textures and in blond (for men), blond (for women), brown, black, auburn, red, gray, blue, green, and fuchsia. They can be streaked or tinted, and popular styles include:

Afro Bangs Bantu/Zulu knots Beehive Bouffant Bun Blowout Buzz cut Bob Bowl cut Caesar cut Cajun Chelsea girl Chonmage

Comb over Cornrows Crew cut Crop Croydon facelift Dreadlocks Ducktail Fauxhawk Feathered Flattop Goatee connect High and tight Hi-top fade the 'John Travolta'

Layered look Mohawk Moptop Mullet Pageboy Perm Pigtails Pixie Pompadour Ponytail Rattail Wings

Jeez..I have problems picking out a breakfast from a diner menu..never mind my merkin hair!

Worth the Wait

Ross and I have seen each other probably twice in the past month. We saw each other before my vacation and once after. We do, however, continue speak and text every day.

It isn't that we don't want to see each other, believe me. But, right now, he has been traveling on and off for work, and is very busy at work. I am also crazy with my work situation, and trying to open a new business to go to once I'm done here.

For once, my work life and all this change has kept me busy enough to be able to handle not seeing Ross all that much. Yes, I do miss him, and he tells me everyday that he can't wait to see me, but, being busy helps me keep my mind off it.

Over the weekend, we finally did meet. We hung out at some sports bar, and we both got totally trashed.  He was really heated about work, and I had never seen him like that, angry about his job.  Although I felt bad for him, I also appreciated that he was able to confide in me.

After, we went to the place we usually end up at, the motel. We got in there, had a great time together, as usual.  In my drunken state, I think I also let the "L' word slip once, and he said it back, so that was nice. We then, curled up and passed out together. Not realizing the time, at 1am, he suddenly awoke, and jumped out of bed, and we both frantically got dressed and ran out of there.  We could have easily have slept there all night, not fully aware that we both had to be home...and we both wish we didn't have to leave.

I'm perfectly happy waiting for that once a week, or every other week opportunity to see Ross. He's truly worth the wait. My experience has been that even though I could be having sex more often with other random people, being with Ross and having sex with him definitely is better.

awwwww ;)

Hump Day: Working 'Round the House

Help Wanted

Can you be trusted?


I blogged recently about how my business is in the crapper.  I'm taking my small, yet dedicated clientele and opening up my own office.  I haven't disclosed what I do or where I am going, in order to remain anonymous.

But, I wondered, maybe there is someone out there, in blog land, who could help me expand my client list.  I can assure anyone that the work I do is first class, second to none.  I have never, ever lost a client for failure on my part and I could give recommendations of the quality of my services from many.

So, here's as disclosed as I will go.  If anyone is involved in banking, real estate, mortgages, etc. and does business in the New York metropolitan area,  let me know.  Maybe we can do some business together.

I'll definitively bend over backwards for you!

Him v. Her

We hosted a cocktail party in my house recently. Funny how the couples end up split up, guys in one area talking about sports, work, economy, Tiger Woods, and then politics. That's when I made my way over to the girls. Now these women should not want for anything. Some don't work at all, some part time, and they all have more than anyone could ever ask for. As I sat down in their lair, I was questioned: "Isn't that true? Happy Wife, happy life" someone asked me.

Hmm...had to think about it for a sec. You know on the one hand I'm not a woman basher...but I also definitely don't appreciate the Oprah mentality against men either.


Yes, I responded..there is some credence to that saying. A woman should be happy, and she plays a big role in a typical nuclear family, but I can't help but be concerned how the proverb "Happy wife, happy life" is putting the burden on the man to make his wife happy. Where's the obligation to man's happiness?

It's then my mind started working...and I came up with "how's happy dude, lotsa food?" as they giggled. "I mean don't you think a husband being happy is as important to the family's happiness? I happen to think the man's happiness is more important. Show me a man that comes home unhappy every day and I'll show you abused children, a battered wife, alcoholism, drug abuse, broken homes, hungry families and foreclosed homes. The real root of woman's happiness is a happy man!"

How about: "Happy guy, see the sky?" I asked? Nah, too dramatic, there's no real connection there...

I wasn't able to really come up with an appropriate bumper sticker to compete with the happy wife one. But, I still explained that the happiness in the family really radiates from the man. At least I believe that's the way it works in a typical family. Maybe if the breadwinner is the wife, it works the other way. That person really needs to feel complete...and, dare I say it, the King of his Castle (there - I said it!). If I walk in to my home, after a long, hard day of work, to find my home a mess, children unruly, and a TV dinner? I'm not happy. But, if I walk in to a family interested in my day, and I find a home cooked meal and a well kept house, I'm content.

Now, I'm no male chauvinist. If the wife is the breadwinner, well, the roles have to be reversed. Make her happy, because the gravy train stops with her.

After people left, we cleaned up and went to bed. But, apparently, my mind kept working.....4:00am..suddenly awoke. And then it hit me...

"Happy him, happy home."

Scary Funny

A blog-buddy on Random Thoughts In My Life posted this video.  He said it was funny.  I, however, watched it in horror.

Now, I don't hold it against him.  Most people look at drunk guys as buffoonery.  They're funny to watch stumble, their idiotic antics can be humorous.




I can certainly see the humor in a wasted guy taking 2 minutes to put on his flip flop.  But, honestly, being around totally wasted people, who are one step from being out of control scares the shit out of me.

I'm no angel (obviously).  I've had my share of wasted days..some very wasted.  I've had experiences where I had been so wasted that I drove when I shouldn't have.  Too many of those actually.  I've been so out of my mind high that I knocked on doors in a dorm room at odd hours of the night.  I've been so drunk that I threw my guts up, and sworn off drinking a million times over.  I've been so inebriated that I spent hours vomiting in the bathroom, and even longer apologizing to my guests.


I've also seen people who were so wasted that they nearly drank themselves to death, so wasted that they had no idea what they were doing, some people who were obviously alcoholics, drug addicts, people throwing up in public, fighting because they were unable to rationally control themselves and even one person (who I didn't know) clearly be so drunk that they shouldn't have even been allowed to walk, much less drive a car in the condition I saw her in.

But truth be told, I've never felt comfortable around people who were out of control.  I've never found hysterical someone so drunk or wasted that they didn't know what they were doing.

A flip flop? Yea, we all have gotten tipsy or buzzed to that extent.  But, if that guy is heading towards his car, or is about to deck another dude in the face because he's so wasted, that..I don't find too funny.

Male Bag: Te Amo

Here's a letter I received.  Reads like a soap opera...sweet and romantic:

 ***

Right, I don’t even know why I’m doing this.  I guess this is what some people call venting.  Never written to a complete stranger before.  Hang on! Are you really a complete stranger to me? I mean, I dunno your fuckin’ name or anything, but I’m most impressed on the profoundness of the emotions you convey through your entries.  Silly as it may sound, makes me feel like I know you.  I’m sure this first paragraph will be exactly the same one you have probably read already over and over since people started giving you feedback on your blog.  I stumbled across it last Friday.  I was instantly addicted.  I read it from the very first post to the last update. You kept me busy all weekend (yes! I’m a slow reader + I have a crappy connection and your site is heavy).  Your story is amazing.  I have one of my own too and, since you ask your readers to share stories with you, I feel compelled to do so myself.  I’m not asking for any advice.  If anything, I’m asking for your thoughts and feedback.  I would very much appreciate those!  I also have tons of questions about your lifestyle, but we’ll eventually get there.  First things first.

Who the fuck I am? Well, I am a 27 y/o lawyer.  I am from Mexico, born and raised.  In terms of sexual orientation, I honestly hate tags, and I thoroughly refuse to categorize myself into one.  I’ve been in a monogamous relationship with my GF for some time now.  However, not too long ago I was deeply in love with a guy, and I was lucky enough to share my life with him for about a year.  To this day, I don’t even know exactly how it happened, but I acknowledge it as something that changed my life radically, in every way it could be changed.

For my last year in college I applied to an exchange program in France.  It took a lot to make my parents agree, and financially support my decision; but after tons of paperwork, a sad “I’ll-wait-a-lifetime-for-you” conversation with my girlfriend at the time, the coolest farewell party from friends and the "what/how do I pack" dilemma was solved, I was ready to actually live for an entire year in the City of Bright Lights.

When I got to Paris, things were great, but not everything turned out as easy as I thought.  Finding a decent, clean, cheaper than 1,000€/month apartment seemed like mission impossible.  That’s how I met him.  That’s how I met Santiago.  He was looking for a roommate, I was looking for an apartment.  First impression? Cool, tiny, Spanish art student also on Erasmus…he should be fun to live with! Damn, it sure was!  We clicked right away, and turns out we were very compatible on stupid quotidian activities around the house.  I can’t stand doing the dishes, he hates setting beds: I’d set his bed for him, he’d do the dishes.  He was a lousy cook, I’m a terrible shopper.  No hay problema! I’d cook, he shopped.  It was also nice having someone to talk to in Spanish for a change.  It is amazing how the perception of time is so subjective.  Within only a week of hanging out 24/7 it was as if we knew each other for years.  (Cheesy line, but true!).

It’s gonna be hard to explain this, ‘cos there’s no way to translate it, but I’m gonna do my best trying.  In Spanish we have two verbs that have close meanings.  “Amar” (to love) and “Querer” (to love).  However, “querer” is (to love) where as “amar” is (to love)².  You say “te quiero” to your good friends, perhaps even to your best buddy, but you say “te amo” only when a truly deep feeling dwells inside.  It’s not only used for lovers, you can say “te amo” to your mom and dad, or brothers and sisters.  I relate this to your “L” word entry. When said in a relationship: “te amo” is a huge milestone.  Sorry for the Spanish vocabulary lesson, but it is rather important for future reference.

Whenever I spoke to my girlfriend who was back home, Santi mocked me on how much honey would drain out of the phone.  He said no one used “amar” in Spain when addressing to your GF anymore, clearly it was a phrase outta slang.  That was, in his very own words, a phrase left only for the corniest Mexican soups.

Studying abroad is really fun! I tried to make the best out of it.  Some new friends from school invited me to join them on a Venetian carnival trip.  That very same week my I’ll-wait-a-lifetime-GF and I were done and, I was pretty blue, so I really needed to party out my misery.  Santi ends up coming too. 

Once in Venice, he and I agreed on sharing a one-bed room (please excuse a reduced student budget).  We go out.  The carnival takes the streets over.  It feels like a collective madhouse.  We get drunk. We have fun.  On our way back to the hotel we make out with a bunch of Brazilian girls we randomly picked up in the middle of the street.  It’s February and it’s cold, it’s Venice and it’s windy.  Starts raining, why not? Brazilian hotties dump us, of course! We finally get to our hotel both: horny and soaking wet.  All shaky, I get my ass into the shower as quickly as I can.  All of a sudden, he’s right behind me! WTF!  He didn’t even ask if he could.  The both of us, naked in a European sized shower.  It’s not like he’s the first guy I shower in front of.  I was a swimmer athlete until I was fucking 15!  Why did it felt different?  Damn, am I to blame the Brazilian chick make out ? Or was it the soft touch of his soapy skin? Honestly: I don’t recall accurately, I was wasted for gods sake!  Nevertheless, it happened: I popped up a huge bonner.  I could not help it.  I faced the wall trying to conceal it.  He denies it, but I’m sure he noticed.  It didn’t even occur to me to see if he reacted upon that.  I felt embarrassed. Why so? Wouldn’t it have been hilarious if someone have had a hard on in the middle of the group showers when I was teenage swimmer? This was not like it, this was different.  That was the very first moment in my life the idea crossed my mind.  From that day on, I knew...

I woke up.  It was freezing cold.  I feel his arms around me as I open my eyes.  Awkward.  Good morning he says.  “Hi” is the only thing I can mutter.  I stand up and we don’t speak to each other at all that morning. Was I mad at him? Dunno, didn’t want to find out either.  I fulled myself into thinking nothing really happened, and apparently so did he.  After that odd morning, we never spoke of the previous night again, at least not for a while.

Back in Paris things really start to take off.  I get myself a fine frenchie green eyed cutie.  Santi hates her. She used way too many drugs.  Other than weed, I was and still am a drug virgin.  I still hang out with him all the time though.  We do all kinds of stupid things together.  Buy ice cream, sit on a bridge, laugh our asses at walking by people.  At home, sitting in the only couch we owned, the two of us just, reading in absolute silence.  Just me knowing he was there…and vice versa.  I break up with frenchie green eyes, he no longer sees his own chick-of-the-week. He loves techno music, not a big fan myself.  Through a friend of mine, I get VIP tickets to hottest nightclub in the Parisian techno scene.  We both get there and it’s a nightmare.  Gay night (please shoot me!).  We were suppose to get some pussy!  Still, we get in.  Not a single college student would reject a free all-you-can-drink party night.  We start doing shots.  I must confess music was awesome! I’m screwed when this 6’3’’ built mother fucker starts hitting on me at the bar.  I don’t want to be rude; I’m just NOT interested thank you very much.  He was drunk, I was drunk.  Situation was getting extremely uncomfortable.  Then, without any kind of hint, or previous notice, Santiago is pushing my body towards his, wrapping my waist with one arm and holds the back of my head with the other hand.  I didn’t see it coming.  Although deep down, I had already pictured it.  He kissed me.  I kissed him back.  We were drunk.  I felt, for the first time in my life, the power of a male jaw.  It was a passionate yet naïve kiss.  He was shaking, I could tell.  Most likely, so I was.  When I realized what was happening I gently ended it.  Pretending he was in absolute control of the situation, he addresses to 6’3’’ asshole stalker and says “arrêtez, nous sommes ensable…” (Enough! We are an item!).  All we did for the rest of the night was have the time of our lives, make out and get even more waisted.

My nana (wise woman btw) used to say that “no drunken dipshit would ever eat flames”.  Even so, I really think alcohol played a very important role that night.  The next morning was hell for me.  I assume it was hell for him too.  I barely coped with what I can say is, my worst hangover ever, but not just outta drinking…but sorta in a moral level too.   We grew apart from that day on.  We hardly spoke to each other anymore, plus I got super busy with school and so did he.  I tried not to think of what had happened, but I couldn’t look at him the same way either.  Kissing him? That is gross isn’t it?  Why didn’t it gross me out then?  If you’re gay, you are suppose to find out in your early teens, not in early 20’s! Everybody knows that, I think there’s even a rule for that isn’t it? I’m an adult grown man. I’m about to graduate as a lawyer.  This is no time for me turning fucking gay.

Unlike yourself, I never felt any kind of attraction for dudes before.  Ever.  It shames me a bit, but I didn’t even had an opinion about gay people.  Not good, not bad either.  I didn’t know any gay people, it was not part of my world.  I mean, I knew they were out there, but just had nothing to do with me whatsoever.

About a month after the nightclub incident, I get bad news from home.  Grandma’ is really sick, she’s getting some kind of high risk surgery, and my dad wants me back ASAP for the Dr told ‘em to expect the worst.  I was destroyed.  Family is really, really close.  More than many others I know at least (and I live in a very family oriented country!).  I felt not only alone, but lonely.  I made a mess at the apartment while trying to pack.  I can’t get any flight until 24 hrs later + 14 hour flight back home.  Grams may not have 38 hours left.  Why am I so sad? Is it just because I’m homesick, or is it because I miss him too? Is it because of Grams?

Santiago shows up.  I’m driving myself crazy.  I don’t remember if I was crying or not.  He hugs me, I don’t.  I keep trying to finish my packing.  We start arguing over some stupid wine bottle.  We yell at each other.  He sounds bitter, just like me.  I throw some nasty comment at his face.  I turn my back on him and walk down the hall. I haven’t reach my room’s door when he shouts from the top of his lungs: “…tu puta madre Diego! no te das cuenta que te amo…?!?!” (Diego mother fucker, haven’t you realized yet I (love)² you…?!?!”)

My heart froze.  Did he say what I think he said?  I was longing to hear that.  I loved him too.  I hadn’t accepted it though, not even to myself.  How was that possible? I don’t know.  So much for a corny Mexican soap phrase, eh! He just yelled it.  He (loves)² me.  We kiss, we hug for as long as a whole month apart deserved it.  I whisper to him I (loved)² you too.  SMS from my sister: “surgery went just fine, she made it!”.  Looks like I wasn’t going anywhere, nor was him.

That was the first time we made love.  No second thoughts, no regrets, no alcohol.  I just wanted to give myself to him, and I was craving the feeling of him giving it all to me.  The sex was un-fuckin’-believable!  No anal intercourse, but hot as I never thought sex could get.  It was somewhat, aggressive? But tender at the same time.  He was a man, I am a man and that empowered us both.  There was no submissive/dominant role neither in him not in me.  What I remember the most is that I was so damn turned on by the fact he was rock hard.  When you have sex with a woman, you can tell when she’s aroused, but you have to pay attention to notice! Nothing is more graphically eloquent than a stiff cock to truly convey how hot you are for someone.  Knowing that I had that kind of power; to turn him on, and having his throbbing cock to prove it, was like nothing else I felt before.  We suck each other. We kissed a lot.  I blew in his chest a huge load, he cum’s in my mouth while I beat the shit out him.  We cuddle.  No need to clean up.

From that day on we were together.  I spend the best summer in my life traveling with him.  We actually lived together as a couple the whole year.  We spent Christmas and New Years.  By the end of the term I had to return home to graduate.  So did he. I left first, thank god I didn’t have to empty our place.  We kissed, hugged and cried in the middle of the CDG Airport departures gate.  I haven’t seen him ever since.  We stay in touch a lot through skype.

My nephew was born days before I took off to France, and I remember thinking: this tiny little person has the whole family going crazy over him (being the first nephew, grandson and all).  This little mother fucker has me going crazy over for him too.  I felt what I think is as closest as a parent-like feeling I've gotten so far.  I felt the urge of loving and protecting him.  Don’t be ridiculous, he doesn’t need protection, your sister and brother-in-law have been expecting him for years! Still, I felt that way.  I really loved my nephew in a way I didn’t know I could.  With the kind of love you can’t have for your cousins, or friends, or girlfriends.  I didn’t know I was capable of finding a new way to love someone.  Shit happens, and the huge irony here is that a few months after my nephew was born, Santiago taught me yet another way to love!  Until then, I wasn’t aware I could fall for a man, nonetheless I did. The way I loved Santi is not the way I loved women before in my life.  It was new.  Different.

It is weird how my mind works, as I went back home I felt sorta unchained to what had happened the past year.  Being abroad, but knowing you have to come back home, is kind of like a reality TV show.  I mean, it’s really happening, but it’s not your life!  This is the kind of stupid argument I talked myself into in order to avoid the pain I felt for not having him around.  I eventually moved on.  I got myself a GF.  I was back in fuckin’ macholand (a.k.a. México) and I was a damn tough macho mother fucker.  Who’s to say I was with a guy for almost a year.  Who’s to say I held hands with him while walking Paris.  No one knows. No harm done!

I really hope it was THAT easy.  You know it’s not.

I’ve been typing nonstop for more than an hour now and I haven’t even updated you.  That is perhaps the main reason I’m writing to you, as if I were sure you care (hopefully you do!).

Before meeting Santiago, I had at least 3 long lasting serious relationships.  I had no problem whatsoever keeping myself fully committed only to one at a time.  Even after the “te amo” night I did not sleep with anyone else but Santi for a whole fuckin’ year! And I was at Erasmus!!! (not sleeping with half the people you know while abroad is like staying a virgin after prom for US kids).  We had a couple of 3somes with random girls, but it was mutually consented and fun like hell to do!

It took me more than a year after I came back (and a lot of random meaningless sex with both men and women) to finally settle down with a new girl.  My current GF who I really love.  I haven’t cheated on her, but I feel things are different now.  I had never had any kind of issues staying monogamous.  This is my first serious relationship after him and, I’m starting to realize how tough it has become, the burden it represents.  Do you remember how this feels? The early, really early self reproaches? This is where I am now.

Even so, I’m working my ass off to save enough for starting a life with her, anytime soon.  Get married, have kids, the nice neighborhood, the walk-in closet and the mortgage: the whole enchilada!

Along came your blog.

With it a lot of questions, answers, relief, fear, laughs, tears, hope... Am I looking into a time machined portray of what my life can become in say 15 years?  If I get married, do I really have to live my life like you live yours in order to stop feeling this void inside me since I haven’t been with a man? I don’t think I can.  I’m not smart enough.  The thing with me is that I’m such a bad liar.  I’m transparent.  Sometimes, against my better judgment but I just can’t lie to someone’s face.  

Reading you made me realize and, I apologize in advance if this turns out like a nasty comment, please forgive me.  No offense man, but...I don’t wanna be you.  I don’t wanna be in love with “my Ross” (that killed me btw) but also find myself in the situation of having a family and kids who I love and have to look after.  I don’t intend to add any kind of moral dose on my remarks; I’m trying to state them almost factual.

So what’s for me then?

I live in a country where let alone bisexuality, not even homosexuality is slightly accepted.  Family, friends and in general my whole social circle is extremely traditional.  It is a matter of culture.

This turned out to be an awful, all-over-the-place, way too long email.  I wanted to ask you stuff about your relationship with Ross, and your wife…but I have to run and I’m pretty sure I’d like to know first if you actually got this far reading…hope you do.  Keep in touch.

Un abrazo fuerte,

Diego

 ****

Diego:

At times I feel I'm at the root of all evil.  I lie, I've deceived and I've committed the most horrible of indiscretions against my wife and family. Yes, living a lie is a hard life.  But, unfortunately, my choices are limited.  It's not easy being me and I wouldn't wish it upon anyone.  While the lying does get easier, morally, I know it's wrong.

If I had my druthers, and I could hit "reset" I would do things differently.  Nowadays, things are different from when I went to high school, college, etc.  Being gay, or bisexual is more mainstream.  We all know of someone who is gay or bisexual, maybe even are related to someone.  Back when I went to school and was growing up (and it's not all that long ago) people were more closeted, more secretive of their sexual preferences.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have experimented more when I was in college.  Made sure of my sexual preferences, likes and dislikes.  Decided whether I would be happier with a man, happier with a woman or indeed, required the love of both to be happy.  I would have been more open about my preference, not hide where my interests were.  Of course, I'm not the type necessarily to kiss and tell, but there are friends and relatives that I would have loved to have confided in, so I wouldn't be living a lie.

Would I have been able to find a man or woman or both, that was accepting of my bisexuality?  Would I have been able to have my cake and eat it too? I would hope I would have.

What would I suggest for you?  Nowadays, being gay or bi doesn't preclude one from raising a family, having kids and living a happy, productive and accepting life.  Take this time to determine what you want, not family wise, not professionally..but what will make YOU happy.  All other preferences are available to you whether you are gay, bi or straight.  But true happiness can only be found if your happy with yourself and your mate.

Date, experiment, enjoy.  Decide what it is that your DNA has decided is best for you.  Then, damn to the traditionalists, make that choice.  It's no one's business, but if if is asked, it is what it is. "I'm gay" or "I'm bi" is easier to say honestly than saying "I'm happy" and not being honest about it.

Good luck my friend..and make your life truly happy and honest.

Hump Day: Hoodies

Issues, Issues

Just want to let you guys know that I am aware of the loading issues with the blog.  Thanks to everyne's input, I think it's been narrowed down to my post with the poll.  I am trying to fix it, or in the alrternative, remove that post. 

Will be working on it over the next day or so, when I can sit at the computer.

Check back!

I'm working on it, I promise!

***

And it seems like it is fixed. Removed the poll that I had on here, and things are running better. It's too bad. The polls were answered by over 400 people, and I got lots of great feedback, which I will compile and let you guys know.

Any other issues, let me know!

It's the Pits

I'm on vacation, and this place was no dump. It was a luxurious and beautiful resort. I'm laying in the sun, and I hear a buzz..sounded like a bee..or a loud fly..but louder. Then gone.

A few minutes later, there it is again, that buzzing sound...then disappears.

Again..and I'm looking around..what's making that annoying buzz? I look down the row of glistening bodies soaking in the sun, and there is a man, sitting next to his wife. As he talks to her (in Spanish) he whips out his battery operated buzzer, and is shaving his pits. He adjusts himself, then runs it along his chest.

God, some people. I can't imagine having the guts to shave their body hair in public! I mean, I see people clipping nails on the subway, or applying makeup in their car..but body hair now?

I think smooth bodies are great, I don't prefer shaved pits on a man..but, in either case..I don't need to see some stranger, who by the way, I wouldn't look twice at, shave his pits and body hair on the beach on my vacation!

I Want to Pole You!: CLOSED DUE TO LOADING ERRORS

I thought I'd get to know my readers..and allow all of us to get to know each other.  Who we are, what we are like..what we like, and how we act.  So, without further ado, here is my poll:

Right Back at Ya!

Just a quickie...

I just wanted to thank everyone for your kind words, continued support and nice emails this week. Yes, things have been upsetting at times, but also somewhat exciting.  Things are finally looking up..and I hope to keep it moving forward.

I've managed to squeeze in time for blogging to keep you up to date.  More Monday and the rest of the week!

Thanks again!
BLM

In and Out

Courtesy of MTV.Com:


Sean Hayes, who famously played the over-the-top sidekick on NBC's "Will & Grace," told — well, strongly hinted to, at least — The Advocate that he's gay.

He joked throughout the interview, saying, "That song! So romantic for our interview!" when a Frank Sinatra tune came on. He later said — after the interviewer ordered the same dish he did — "It must be a gay thing: the pasta with chicken. It's all the craze!"

He was a little more straightforward when he said, "I am who I am. I was never in, as they say. Never."

Hayes also took the gay media to task for criticizing actors who aren't 100 percent open about their sexuality. "I feel like I've contributed monumentally to the success of the gay movement in America, and if anyone wants to argue that, I'm open to it," he said. "What more do you want me to do? Do you want me to stand on a float? And then what? It's never enough."

It's been nearly four years since the sitcom ended, and now the 39-year-old is preparing to make his Broadway debut in the first revival of the 1968 musical "Promises, Promises."

For years, Hayes was mum about his sexual orientation, despite co-starring in the gay romantic comedy "Billy's Hollywood Screen Kiss" and, later, "Will & Grace." In interviews, he would deliver stock answers like "When I play a gay character, I want to be as believable as possible. And when I'm playing a straight character, I also want to be as believable as possible. So the less that people know about my personal life, the more believable I can be as a character."

I don't care..gay or not..he's fucking hilarious!

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow

It's been a trying week, nah, month..actually..it's been years.

I've posted previously how business has sucked and I've consolidated, reorganized and tweaked things to death in order to survive in the company that I am in.  Well, after all those adjustments, it looks like things are falling apart..and fast!

So, here I am, with a wife and kids who depend on me, and my income, starting again.  After a day or two of wallowing, and lots of negative feelings and emotions, I've picked myself up, swept myself off and begun the process of starting things again, alone, and without the need for nasty, rude, meddling partners.  It's time I do it alone, or at least, how I want to do it.

I woke up today, and despite my understandable depression and confusion of the previous day, the sun was up.  I went to the gym and the same people were there.  I came home, showered, put my son on the bus, seeing the same happy parents, same frolicking kids start their day.

"Quit it!" I told myself.  When one door shuts, another door opens. This could be good...for a change, I'm going to do things myself, do things the right way.  The only one I'll have to answer to is me..and the only one I will have to blame is myself.

Despite the economic market..a positive attitude is important.  I have a skill..I'm smart..I'm great at what I do.

Things WILL get better.


It's only a day away!

Hump Day: Boys and Their Balls

Cat and Mouse

Last week was so hard (both literally and figuratively).  I got back from vacation, and it was becoming depressing that I couldn't see Ross.  I was so looking forward to seeing him when I got back. Day by day went by, and either he was busy at work, or I was busy at work, or had family stuff to do.  Finally, Friday came..and he called me. Maybe he'd have some time in the afternoon to hang.

We ended up getting a quick lunch, when he said let's go to hang at the motel, which I quickly agreed to.  I got the room (paid cash, for those of you who had asked previously how I can charge a room, well, I don't) and we headed inside.  Once inside, I was able to give him a great big hug, and we kissed and laid on the bed.  We ended up stripping down and having a whole afternoon of hot steamy sex.  He seemed to love when I was laying down on my back, and pulled him up so his cock was near my mouth.  I'd suck him, until he couldn't handle it anymore, then I went to suck on his balls and that erogenous area underneath his balls.  I then poked my tongue in his ass, then back to his cock again.

After some reciprocation on his part, he held me close, and blew a load on his chest and then used his cum to lube up my cock and help me get off.  After, I asked if there was an opportunity there for me to fuck him (since at one point I was on top of him and we were face to face laying down, and he had lifted his legs and I had toyed with his ass with my cock).  He said "possibly, maybe a second.".  Maybe we will get to explore that again one day.

Ross and I have had anal sex before a few times, with him being the bottom (of course).  He has never shown any inclination or desire to do it on a regular basis, and frankly, I don't feel it's a necessity.  But,  fucking that hot ass of his I feel, brings us closer..is hot on occasion and if he would enjoy it, I'd be happy to comply.

Anyway, we hung out, made out a whole lot more, each both blew another load that afternoon/early evening.  It was then time to say goodbye..

Finally, after a long, depressing week..the Cat and Mouse were able to play.

Not So Precious

The big hub-bub lately has been about the movie Precious, and more specifically about the lead Actress, Gabourey Sidib.

The movie is a story that rises from the depths of despair to a place of genuine hope. Gabourey Sidibe offers a phenomenal screen debut as Precious, who makes an utterly believable and electrifying rise from an urban abyss of ignorance and neglect.  Clareece "Precious" Jones is an overweight, illiterate African-American teen in Harlem. Just as she's about to give birth to her second child, Jones is accepted into an alternative school where a teacher helps her find a new path in her life.

I have yet to see the movie, but I have heard all the buzz about this talented Actress who made her debut in this movie.  The movie garnered six nominations, including Best Picture, for the 82nd Academy Awards and Gabourey Sidibe for Best Actress.  

The controversy begins with a comment made by the always irreverent, but honest King of All Media, Howard Stern who called the over-sized actress, "the most enormous fat black chick I've ever seen" and said "she was the size of a planet, and that she'd never get another job in Hollywood."  Harsh? Yes...true? Absolutely!

What's the controversy?  Where's the untruth?  Hasn't Hollywood been the one to promote role models for America?  Who are some of the famous actresses in Hollywood? Angelina Jolie, Cameron Diaz, Gwyneth Paltrow, Jennifer Aniston, Julia Roberts, Nicole Kidman and the like..not a dog in the bunch.  As a matter of fact, they are people who provide an unrealistic view of the average women.  Just like the pages of tabloids, magazines and newspapers and advertisements that promote the beautiful and emaciated, misleading girls with an unhealthy body image.

It should not come as any surprise that Howard Stern said that Precious will never see another role as a leading lady in a Hollywood movie, because it is the truth.

We live in a world of stick thin models and unrealistically beautified celebrities. Magazines promote the newest fad diets rate the Best Bodies and promote unusually tan bodies, white teeth and muscled torsos. Weekly tabloids feature stories on who has lost the most weight and who needs to cover up. Television ads celebrate the greatness of diet pills; energy drinks that can speed up your metabolism, and the newest Master Cleanse diet will help you lose ten pounds in two days. We are all fixated on TV shows about makeovers, losing weight, botox and plastic surgery.

The idea that thin is in is everywhere, and it is hardly inescapable from the advertising industry. And although the messages are damaging and often untrue, women everywhere are suffering the consequences of constant exposure to overly thin models and movie stars.

Is the discovery of Gabourey Sidib the beginning of a change in the attitudes of Hollywood? I doubt it.  I for one don't want to pay $15.00 to see Gabby making out with Tom Arnold in the next action hero movie. Do you?

A Rose By Any Other Name

Do I need a name?

Everything I write on this blog has been the most upfront I have ever been with anyone - Really! I've shared intimate stories that no one else knows, revealed some insecurities about myself that I've never told another and spilled some emotional vulnerabilities in here too. They have all been real, the truth,but the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

I sometimes worry..writing this blog makes me feel free..it makes me feel safe to some extent.  I can write and say anything without the worry that someone will find out.  But, on the other hand, I think this is a false sense of security.  Is it possible someone could find out, and realize who is writing, make the connection and know who I am?  I do worry about that.  It is for this reason that I change names, delay posts so as to juggle the time lines in my life and never have revealed my true identity.


A reader recently suggested I have a name..something to make me more human, humane and bring us emotionally closer. Obviously, it cannot be my real name, as that would blow my cover. I've been addressed as a number of different names, obviously BiLikeMe was the most common, but, BLM has been used both by me and others. Making up a name, if it helps, is an alternative.

So, here's a choice..let me know your thoughts. Believe me, I've been called worse.

Look, Up In the Sky!

This puppet is so funny!
Enjoy!

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder?

Back from vacation.  It was amazing..I couldn't have asked for better weather.  I shaked and baked..and I am totally dark tanned.

Spent most of my days waking early, hitting the gym for a run and short workout.  There were some amazing looking people there..mostly girls.  One girl was this blond who was a trainer at the gym who had an amazing tan, and wore these short shorts..they were so tight I could read her lips.  I was laying on this couchy thing they had at the beach when some beautiful young girl laid next to me on the next lounge. She was strikingly hot. But, you don't want to hear about the girls, I'm sure.

The guys? Hmm..didn't get to touch anyone - I had planned (if you remember) that it wasn't going to happen since I was committed to Ross..but I saw a few cute, if not young hard-bodies there.  My mind was on relaxing, tanning, spending time with the family ...all accomplished.

Now Ross info: Before a few weeks ago, things were going unbelievably well between Ross and I.  We were seeing each other 4 or 5 times a week, and had grown closer than we had ever been.  But now, he changed jobs and instead of working 10 minutes from me, he now works in the city and it's not so convenient to see each other anymore.  Once I went to the city on my way to an appointment and we met for lunch, but other than that, our meetings have been too few and far between.

The feelings I get when I don't get to see Ross on a regular basis are varied..none of them that good.  A few weeks ago, nothing could spoil my mood...my boring job seemed palatable, my family life was nice, my attitude was great.  Now? not so good.  I get honey, lonely, depressed and ..jealous.

You see, I love to see Ross.  He lifts my spirits.  I know the feeling is mutual, as he has continued to text me and we speak on the phone and he tells me how he misses our mid-day meetings, but nothing can change the fact that the distance we are from each other makes things more difficult.

When I don't see him for a few days, and I hear about his day, I can't help but worry that there will be some hot guy or girl who will sweep him off his feet.  Being in the city, there is a huge opportunity of meeting eligible single and hot girls and guys.  My mind plays with me despite the fact that Ross has never given me any reason to not trust him.  Even when we were apart for 10 months..he said he never saw anyone or had any sexual meetings with anyone, while I divulged my few sexual liaisons and relationships to him (there were more than I told him about).  Don't believe him?  You don't know my Ross.

We do try and make time for a dinner here or there..or a quick meeting somewhere at night when he finally gets home, but it's tough.  Like the Saturday that we met before my vacation..things were just perfect.  Over vacation..we were texting a lot..chatted on the phone a few times..he mentioned how he missed me, how he couldn't wait to see me. Now, I'm back..and I'm dying to see him..but he just doesn't have the time.

I am hoping somehow I can eliminate these feelings of jealousy and loneliness because they can't be good for what has now turned into a semi-long distance relationship.

Hump Day: Tans

Gayest Sport Ever!

 Claims that Olympian Johnny Weir was not included in the “Stars on Ice” cast because of his sexual orientation are not true, the figure skating tour said.

The Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation started an online petition last week, saying Weir was being excluded from the tour because he was not “family friendly.” Weir has repeatedly avoided questions about his sexual orientation, saying people shouldn’t be defined by labels.

“We are disappointed that there is untrue and inaccurate information being disseminated,” Stars, which is sponsored by Smucker’s, said in a statement. “Please be assured that the `gender identity and sexual orientation’ of cast members has never been a consideration in the selection of tour performers.”

Weir, a three-time U.S. champion, is one of figure skating’s most colorful and oversized personalities, and his popularity soared after his sixth-place finish at the Vancouver Olympics. Tara Modlin, Weir’s agent, said she approached Stars about adding Weir to the cast and was told “not this year.”

Unlike the old “Champions on Ice” tour, where skaters did individual numbers, Stars is more of an ensemble show. Former U.S. champions Todd Eldredge and Michael Weiss have been longtime cast members, and Stars will also feature Olympic champion Evan Lysacek and current U.S. champ Jeremy Abbott this season.
“While Stars on Ice wishes it could accommodate many more talented skaters as part of our cast, the fact is we cannot sign every skater,” the Stars statement said.



The video above is funny, yes, but it makes some great points too. We're talking about figure skating here, not jousting! I love the "official sports sexuality spectrum". It's right above competitive ass fucking!

Johnny Weir is gay, but that shouldn't define him. He's a three time champion, an amazing athlete, a role model, and yes, a tad bit fem. Get over it!