Anyway, I'm off to the dentist - Big Gay Martin. You know, I'm not one for the gay ghetto, but it is kind of nice going to gay service providers (for want of a better expression). He's getting a little plump, turning milky white, not such a good look for a blond. Like I can talk, as Mark would point out, as I suck my stomach in, hoping no one sees. I look in the mirror and think hideous, now a days. But I digress...
Martin is warm and generous and funny, if in an old school gay kind of way. He's got interesting art.
His big blue eyes sparkle. He's funny, he makes me laugh... if I could, with his fingers in my mouth.
I like him. He's nice. It's cool having a man filling my cavities for a change... instead of grumpy Stella. She was always seemingly cross with me. So, Martin is a ray of sunshine. And he mostly seems to be pleased.
No doubt he'll exclaim, "Oh Christian!" as I open wide for him in the chair. "Still smoking!"
Gotta give up smoking, too. Hey? I've just got to tell myself I can do it. I don't even like it. It is so stupid.
Anyway, gotta go. Gotta catch the 96 tram.
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