Next

The day was sun-drenched, shiny, almost glistening. What amazing weather we're having for a long weekend.

Saw my mum in the morning. Wrote in the afternoon.

Kane called, wanting to do something. But, I didn't care if I saw him, or not, that's how I felt as I listened to his voice, I was happy writing, so, I guess, that's what he felt down the phone back at him.

I don't know, am I getting picky? Or is it discernment? Put into practice what I've learned from past relationships.

Kane's hot and all, but too clingy. Wants to make my life his life, already. I can feel it. Always wants to know what will make me happy, it makes my skin crawl.

And boyfriends without cars, I'm sick of it. It's the 21st Century. (It's amazing how quickly I drop my environmental standards when it suits me.)

Mitchell's great. Dry, funny, chilled, cynical, can just be. But, as I've said before, hopeless in bed. Really bad. Clueless. You can't up-skill enough from that level, at thirty four. You can either kiss, or you can't.

So, if I've learned any thing, as nice as they both are, I think that means, next.

So, NEXT!

I think my window period is pretty much about a month, for any guy. If you haven't got me completely by then, you just ain't going to. It's pretty much that simple. Tough? Maybe. Realistic. Because when you are with one of the right ones, it never occurs to you when that 4 weeks is up. Suddenly, it's twelve months later. You know what I mean?

The languid afternoon turned into night.

I'm working on an anthology of semi-erotic gay short stories. It's where I ended up from writing straight erotica for my marketing girlfriend. (I must send her the chapters I did write)

Shane bought home some guy he picked up at an exhibition he and David went to. David was so drunk he kept telling me what a huge cock this guy had, it wasn't the first time with this guy for Shane, in front of the guy. I don't usually see David drunk, he's hysterical.

David staggered out the door at midnight looking for one of his own.