Keeping close to friends seems to make this better: I panic when I am on my own. A very recent problem. One that started after I began to loathe you know who.
Yesterday I had my fourth and fifth Manhunt dates. The first was a youngish Asian who didn’t have a car or a conversation and giggled nervously. He had been to the gym but I have no idea what he was doing there unless he goes there to eat doughnuts. He had ‘attitude’ which was amusing. He knew he was totally out of his depth. Even though we were totally incompatible he still insinuated that we should fuck. We didn’t.
Listlessly waited for the watch to arrive. The moment I left the house it arrived. I will get it on Monday.
I drove into Hollywood and packed several more boxes with essentials. I had coffee with Michael B in Solar. He can be very tricky. Met a charming Brazilian called Frank who is here with me now in Malibu helping me and Ashley with the endless moving chore.
I tidied the larder organizing the pulses, baking (flour, baking soda etc.) and cans into neat rows.
So, had dinner with Manhunt date number 5. A black man from Miami. Very intelligent, great company. Not very sexy. He too wanted to have sex. What is wrong with these people? Didn’t they read my profile? I am flattered but Christ Almighty…give a man a break!
The only man I could or would consider making anything happen with was the first man..the one I couldn’t look at in the eye.
10 replies on “Keeping Close”
fascinating, nothing more intriguing than the incessant blather of gays who for some misguided “reason” feel their life of gaydom is just simply beyond that of a mere mortal hetero. It’s as if a toddler just found his peepee and can’t stop twiddling it hour after hour after year after decade into the grave. Big deal. You’re gay. So what. I like lima beans and Positano. The fact that all gays are utterly compelled to drone excitedly, twittering like schoolgirls in Bye Bye Birdie, is pretty much the very definition of mundane ennui. Gays are not like straights in many ways of course, but I have come to realize that many of those ways can be defined as inferior. Gays generally are just tremendous bores. Stultifying in their vane attempts to remain vital, witty, cute, sexy ad nauseum. No gay thats ever lived could compete with my straight sexiness. Maybe Cary Grant, but Cary is one of history’s finest examples of transcendent sexuality. He was what all men gay and otherwise, strive to be: sexy to the core of human existence, not surface, and most importantly, not nelly, immature, or trite. We are human first. Humans at best are inordinately sexy. We are gender second. We are sexual preference third. Gays everywhere, please move on, You are so very boring and yesteryears news. Yawn
I rather liked this…
Live and let live Paul. Beauty is only skin deep, it’s the person in side that counts..
Namaste
xxx
V-A-I-N.
If you’re critiquing, spelling counts.
sometimes other peoples comments totally confuse me.. Which is ok, I work hard, expand my horizons yada yada… Moving is a shite job D, it’s what I do for a rather decent living, my advice? Get rid of it if you don’t use it ina year. And perhaps you might take a breather from datin yet since your so wounded yet? Just a thought hon xx
Paul. No straight thats ever lived could compete with my gay sexiness.
ps, ceramic dolls, any kind of dolls freak me out.. Scary bassas
Best belly laugh in ages! Paul and Robb, we have to get you two together-it would be a world-changing event.
.. the problem with “straight”men… they don’t change.. easily.
Cary Grant was gay and had a lover for many years in Akron Ohio….