April 30, 2007
I wrote a couple of weeks ago about Tom. The last time we spoke on the phone we said we were both interested in “dating” or seeing each other outside of a purely sexual context. What I didn’t mention in that entry is that we had both contracted Chlamydia. I’m not sure who gave it to who but that’s completely unimportant, really. We’ve been communicating through email since then. It didn’t occur to me but Tom thought it was best that we didn’t get together again until our respective infections were cleared up and we both said we were really looking forward to that.
I called on Friday afternoon and we chit-chatted about some stuff, including the fact that our infections were clear. Good enough. I asked when we would be able to get together. Tom responded by saying he felt that there were two of him, one was a real pig and the other one wanted to settle down and have a monogamous, romantic relationship. (We had touched on this subject in some previous conversations when I expressed similar feelings. I told him that, except for 20 years ago when I was drinking, I have been monogamous in all of my relationships but I wasn’t sure what I wanted now.)
This seemed to be leading up to us making some kind of decision about monogamy while we were dating. Nope. He’d been seeing someone else and was telling me that we wouldn’t be having sex or dating! Apparently he had two dinner dates with this other fellow during the time that we’d both been sick. That’s right, he went out with the other guy despite the same Chlamydia that somehow prevented us from going to dinner or to a movie. Is it me or does this just not make any sense?
“We can still be friends and do stuff, though, can’t we?” What? Like going to dinner with you and your boyfriend? Doesn’t that sound like fun?
He also said he thought I told him that I was uninterested in monogamy. I absolutely did not say that and told him so. I finally ended the conversation, completely stunned.
Later that day I got an email from Tom apologizing for being so “callous.” I responded politely that no apology was necessary, that it had just been a product of poor communication. Then I took a Xanap.
When I woke up I read the email again and this time I was angry. I wrote again saying that I should have waited to process the conversation more fully before I responded the first time. I wrote that I felt manipulated and that I had been treated as "Plan B," kept on the hook with a lie of omission. It was humiliating. We hadn’t been very emotionally intimate and he didn’t “owe” me anything but I felt I had been treated badly. He wrote back the he felt he’d been completely honest with me and that he thought at first that my email was supposed to be a joke. He wants to speak again on the phone or in person. I said I’d call him later this week.
Everyone I’ve told this story to has asked, before I even finished, “So he couldn’t go to dinner with you because you both had Chlamydia?? That’s ridiculous.” Yes, yes, it is.
I’m going to call tomorrow but I can’t imagine that he’ll see why I’m hurt.
I’m listening to “My Kind of Town” from The Very Good Years by Frank Sinatra.
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April 26, 2007
I’m listening to “Sing Another Song, Boys” from Songs of Love and Hate by Leonard Cohen.
Man of the week
I don’t have a clue who this guy is but I must have a hundred pictures of him. None of them are particularly professional-looking either which is great. I think he’s beautiful and he always seems to be having fun. Those hairy forearms make me shiver. He’s been showing off his ass a lot lately (Don’t worry, we’ll get to that!) which makes him just about perfect, in my eyes.
UPDATE: He is Muscle Shortstop NYC on bigmusclebears.com, profile #5373. (Thanks, Zack!!)
Note: The blog has been getting kind of heavy with large graphics so I’m changing some stuff. I’ll be posting “Man of the week” pictures two at-a-time but much smaller in size, like the pics above. If you want larger versions, and I know you do, click on either of the smaller pics to get the full-sized stud in a new window. Keep in mind that in addition to sizing these pics, I usually massage the exposures and sharpen them a bit. The larger versions are the originals, untouched by me.
I’m listening to “She Was Sad (Reprise)” from Cold Cereal & Juice by The Knife and Fork Band.
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I’ve been trying to figure out how to write this without it seeming too confusing and without anyone besides myself being identifiable to the reader. Those two things just might be mutually exclusive. Of course, there’s the even more likely possibility that people will read it and say, “Big fucking deal. Who cares?”
A couple of years ago, pre-blog, I arranged to meet a guy at Club Body Center on a weekday afternoon (Man A). We had a great time after nearly missing each other even though our rooms were adjacent! About a year later I ended up moving back to Philly permanently and we got together a few more times. On our two most recent encounters, in my 41st St. apartment and again at the baths, a buddy of his joined us (Man B). This guy is really impressively handsome, the kind of guy you remember. I have liked Man B since first meeting him about 15 years before and I was really glad to finally play with him. He said he felt likewise. I was surprised he even remembered me. On both occasions Man A said we were his two favorite tops. I was really complimented by what each man said.
In the meantime, I got together with a guy from Bear411 (Man C). He was a big, solid, sexy guy who was wearing dress khakis and an oxford shirt that were completely fresh-looking and wrinkle-free when he arrived at my place after work. I was amazed. I have never been able to do that. I don’t remember much about the sex except that I fucked him and it was over quickly. I bet I was uncomfortable because he was so much larger than I was but I must have enjoyed myself because I messaged him another time saying I’d like to play again. I don’t remember his exact response but it seemed friendly enough. (Wow. I sound like a White House official at a Senate investigation: “I don’t remember.” “I don’t remember.”) Anyway, I think I got the impression that he was interested in playing again but not that interested. No big deal. I felt the same, kind of.
I have occasion to receive services from a local agency. My contact person there quit and I was assigned an interim person to call if I needed anything. I had to be re-approved for one of their services last month. I called and we had a pleasant conversation about my needs, which are few. I went in the next day and was talking to the guy who dispenses this particular service and he had to call my contact person. I heard his voice coming from down the hall as they spoke on the phone. A few minutes later I turned around and saw Man C come out of an office and walk directly through a doorway out of the area. I laughed to myself. Coincidences like this happen in Philly all the time. It’s one of the things that makes it seem like such a small town. The incident exited my brain immediately.
The other day I was there again for the same thing. Man C passed me in the hall. I said “Hi” and he nodded. Again, I forgot about it as soon as I left the building. Later in the day I saw Man C online and noticed that he had new pictures. They were nicer than his previous ones and more accurate. The picture of Man C and his partner was particularly interesting. His partner is Man B!! Incredible. If I went out to the bars once in a while maybe this wouldn’t have surprised me so much. I’m sure both of them thought I already knew—if they even discuss such things—but I was once again surprised that everyone in Philadelphia knows everyone else. Looking back I clearly remember A and B talking about C and mentioning his name repeatedly. Doh. On the other hand, why would I make the connection?
Between this and the fact that I’ve been getting very little local response online, I’m starting to think I’ve run out of men here. It might be time to retire or move on, whatever that means.
I’m listening to “Original Love” from Crazy Rhythms by The Feelies.
April 25, 2007
Ass of the week
I have no idea who this is. I wish I did. It’s a screen cap from a porn film. If anyone knows the title, I’d appreciate a holler.
I’m listening to “Always On My Mind (Shep’s Holiday Mix)” from Aurally I by Pet Shop Boys.
The horror…the horror…
Say it isn’t so.
I’m listening to “True Grit” from Legion Of Boom by The Crystal Method.
April 24, 2007
Miss Cleo vs. Galileo
From gay.com chat:
wbdesus: who’s into astrology
onedimensiondown: A little, wb
mikeyb1969: to a point wb
wbdesus: Venus can be seen by the naked eye in the sky tonight
HighStrungLoner: that’s astronomy
wbdesus: er…yea…astronomy…same difference
I’m listening to “Crazy” from Crazy: The Demo Sessions by Willie Nelson.
April 22, 2007
Photo massaged by Karen Schmidt.
I’m listening to “The Killing Moon” from Ocean Rain by Echo and The Bunnymen.
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Man of last week
MuscleMonkey one last time.
I’m listening to “Triangle” from See The Whirl by Delta 5.
Patti Smith did a short set outside the Central Branch of The Free Library of Philadelphia on Saturday as part of a Book Fair. She played for about 45 minutes, accompanied by her son Jackson and local guitarist Jeffrey Gaines on acoustic guitars. Apparently she met Jeffrey backstage before they went on and asked him to join them. She wandered onstage to no introduction but a lot of audience cheering and said she originally planned to read poetry but was afraid she’d be distracted by the traffic noise, so she decided to sing instead. A lot of people cheered at that and no one one appeared to complain.
She was GREAT! I’m not a huge fan of hers, either. I think Horses is one of the very best records ever made. (That and Television’s Marquee Moon were the first CDs I bought even though I still had the LPs.) I haven't liked any of her recordings since then nearly as much, certainly not enough to buy, even back when people still paid for music. I saw her with and without her full band quite a few times in the Horses days and earlier and always walked away happy. I remember a show at The Tower Theater around the time of Easter, I think. She sang an awesome (in the real sense of the word) accapella version of “You Light Up My Life,” of all things. I still remember the stunned silence in the audience. It completely worked. A few weeks later, though, she lived down to my expectations when she got all “tranced out” during a performance and stepped right off the stage. Oops. She sang wearing a neck brace for a while after that incident.
She did a new song, two songs from her upcoming album of covers 12, “Because the Night” and another song of hers that I don’t know well enough to remember the title. Her voice sounded wonderful, as good as ever. She was really friendly, positive and self-effacing which I didn’t expect. Her cover of Neil Young’s “Helpless” was really beautiful, the Allman Brothers song was not. The small crowd, literally infants to octogenarians, all seemed to love her. Good for her.
I was close enough to the stage to suit me, being short, and had a great view, except when the large pear-shaped man in the photo above would lurch to his feet. You know the type: carrying around too many rolled up newspapers in too many tattered plastic bags and a fanny pack in the front, cinched tightly to accentuate his already strange figure. Yeah, him. There were some hot men there, too, but I couldn’t get close enough to snap any pics of them without being noticed and possibly…well, I’m not exactly sure what they might do.
I had just come from Volunteer Recognition Day at the Wilma Way Center. The entertainment was really terrible belly dancer Habiba. She was really embarrassing to sit through. She evoked stunned silence of a completely different kind. Afterward, I got to the Book Fair early enough to catch the act preceding Patti Smith and, coincidentally, it was Joe Tayoun’s Middle Eastern Ensemble with Roger Mgrdichiana on oud and Meesha, a belly dancer! She was great, though, as were the musicians, and she had her picture taken many times by a few of the older gentlemen in the audience.
I’m listening to “Gypsy Solitaire” from Fraser & Debolt with Ian Guenther by Fraser & Debolt, who I know Patti would just love.
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Man of last week
I’m listening to “Smuckers” from The Decline of Country and Western Civilization, Pt. 2 by Lambchop.
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I’m listening to “Kumnandi Emgababa” from The Lion Of Soweto by Mahlathini and the Mahotella Queens.
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April 21, 2007
My Living Doll
My friend Karen found this guy on the Crunch Gym web site and thought he looked like me. Actually, he does and the figures below look like each of us. By the way, she’s the redhead.
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April 11, 2007
Man of the week
I’m listening to “Cuanto Canto” from Street Signs by Ozomatli.
OK. Two Fridays ago I got together with a guy from Bear411. His name was Tom, he had nice pictures, even though he had a pet in them, and he looked like a hot man. We had a lot in common sexually. We spoke on the phone a few times and really seemed to click. So far, so good.
He picked me up at the train station in Exton in a bright red Mitsubishi Spider. Nice! His pictures don’t really do him justice as he’s much sexier in person. The house was in a development that I forget the name of and has the cleanest kitchen I’ve ever seen. Really. The stove looks like an iPod with burners.
I apologize in advance to those of you who want this to be hot masturbation material but the details of what we did that night are a bit of a blur right now. If I’d written it sooner it might have been more arousing. Sorry.
Believe me, this was the best sex I’ve had in a really long time. We started making out as soon as we were inside the door. Then we went upstairs and continued without our clothes, moving on to pit-licking, cocksucking and ass-eating. We were instantly comfortable with each other. He’s in great shape and hairy all over. I loved it! I think we stayed in the bedroom for an hour or so. I wasn’t really paying attention to time.
We went down to his half-finished play room and continued for several more hours. Fucking, sucking, kissing, fisting, toys, piss, spit…you name it, we did it. When Tom wasn’t in the sling we were on a PVC covered mattress on the floor, making out and watching porn projected on a huge screen. We had a blast. The entire time we took no real breaks. It was pretty much non-stop fun. I think we finished when he started to piss on me and I knelt down to drink it. There was way too much for me to swallow and I ended up soaked with it.
We laid down on the floor and talked a bit. That’s when he told me that we already knew each other. He was my doctor 20 years ago!! I couldn’t fucking believe it! He looked so different. I wanted to have sex with him back then but he is much hotter now. As it turns out, the feeling was mutual. I was shocked. He said he had some inkling when I called him and my name showed up on his phone but he was certain when I got off the train. I wasn’t even pissed that he didn’t tell me until we were done. I was just happy all around. Damn.
I was even comfortable sleeping with him which is really unusual. He took me to the train the next morning.
We spoke on the phone a few times during the week and got together again the following Saturday night and things were just as good. We spent Sunday lying on the sofa watching movies on TV and then we went to dinner. (I know. “Who the hell is writing this and what have you done with Frank?!?!?!”)
On the phone again this week we tentatively talked about “dating.” He said earlier in the week that there was something he wanted to talk to me about. I mentioned wanting to see him outside of a purely sexual context and he said that’s what he had wanted to talk about. We both agreed that it’s something we should discuss in person. We won't be able to get together again for about a week which gives us both some time to think about it.
Well, that’s that. Shocking, I know.
I’m listening to “Driving Wheel” from Truth Decay by T-Bone Burnett.
April 9, 2007
Man of the week
Profile pic of the week
Matching outfits, glazed expressions, puka shell necklaces, a fanny pack and Disney World.
I’m listening to “Holy Moly” from PKD/Simulacra by Bunnydrums.
The new beer can
I’m listening to “The Joy of Eating Raw Flesh” from The Best of Bow Wow Wow by Bow Wow Wow.
I went to the Sansom St. Gym again two Saturdays ago. It was their “official” Grand Opening. In other words, they had placed full-page ads that week’s editions of HX Philadelphia and the PGN. They advertised food, half-price memberships and rooms from 6P until 12M and “entertainment.”
I arrived at 10:30PM and they gave me a room on the third floor. It was awful, unfinished with the walls only primed so it stank of paint, no TV on the TV shelf and the very last room of a dead end hallway. Worst of all, there was a fluorescent fixture on the ceiling directly above the cubicle that could not be turned off. It was as bright as an goddamned OR. I went back to the desk and asked if they had something less bright. There was only one other room available, on the second floor, and it had the same problem. They offered me a locker until a better room opened up. They were very apologetic and polite and said the second and third floors weren't really ready but they were so overwhelmed with customers that they felt they had to open them. Fair enough. They gave me a coupon for $5 off a subsequent visit. There wasn’t a vacancy scheduled until 1:30AM but I only had to wait for a half an hour until something on the first floor opened up.
In the meantime, I checked out the food and entertainment. There were hoagie slices, chips, pretzels, crudités, salsa, dip, soda and a duo of “dancers.” I was hungry so I ate some hoagie. Eh.
The entertainment was something else. In one of the video lounges Carlos and Tally, pictured here (l-r), danced listlessly on the carpeted platforms. Tally’s card says he specializes in “Massages, Private Shows, Bachelor & Bachelorette Parties.” In other words, he’s a prostitute. I think it’s a perfectly fine profession but I couldn’t help thinking of him as Tally Ho.
They were hot but also young and hairless which doesn’t do much for me. YMMV. I knew they were hos even before I found Tally’s card on the hoagie table because they let just about anyone touch them and suck their dicks. I hope they were paid well for that. Thanks to the miracle of pharmacology their impressive equipment was at least semi-hard all night.
Now that the place finally had a good size crowd, there were a lot of sullen, bored and angry-looking guys standing around not having sex and acting like they’d rather be anywhere else in the world but here now—typical modern bathhouse denizens. Do similar guys find that attitude hot? Judging by the almost nonexistent amount of sex I saw happening that night, I’d say no. The place was sold out and I saw lots of closed doors but the sounds and smells of sex just weren’t apparent. My cubicle was no exception for most of the night.
At this point, two weeks later, I can only really remember one sexual encounter and not in much detail, although I had others.
The guy in the next room was a red-headed bear lying face-down on his cot exposing his his hairy ass. There were some large toys and several kinds of lube on the table. I went in and began fingering his hole. He turned to his side and sucked my dick for a while. He was very good at it. I pulled my cock out, reached down to his hole again and we kissed. He positioned himself for easier access to his hole and I sat on the bed. Slowly I managed to get my entire hand into him. Before I pulled completely out he turned over and I inserted my dick and fucked his hole with four fingers still inside him. My favorite! Then we used all of the toys from the smallest to the largest. The biggest one was a sizable black butt-plug with a heavy base. After finally getting it in with lots of steady pressure and lots of poppers I let him get comfortable a few seconds before starting to punch the base. He groaned with every punch. We kissed some more and then I left him with the plug still inserted.
I really wish, especially considering the number of men in the club that night, that it was more memorable. Sadly, it wasn’t.
I’m listening to “John The Revelator” from For Mash Get Smashed by The Who Boys.
April 8, 2007
Maybe someone is paying attention after all! And, god bless ’em, they even used a real apostrophe. Here’s the original.
I’m listening to “Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others” from The Queen Is Dead by The Smiths.
April 5, 2007
Gay waiters storm the Capitol!
I’m listening to “God Moving Over The Face Of The Waters” from Everything Is Wrong by Moby.
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April 3, 2007
I’m listening to “Here Comes Santa Clause” from 'Tis the Season for... by Los Straitjackets.
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From the Handball List:
I love J Lube for fisting. But the stuff's just too slippery for me. My hand often just slides right out. I've found that adding Poligrip or any other denture adhesive will reduce that annoying over slipperiness and keep my hand inside a guy's love chute where it will do the most good.
I’m listening to “William, It Was Really Nothing” from Hatful of Hollow by The Smiths.