Anyone who needs to read in the toilet clearly needs more fibre in their diet.
How can you feel comfortable with shit encrusting around your ring for any great length of time? It's a relatively simple procedure, get in and get out, that's my motto.
Every time Tom stays there is a collection of magazines on the floor, afterwards.
I mean, read in the toilet if you want, whatever floats your boat... turd, but aren't there nicer places to read?
It's cold, dark and quiet, nothing is stirring. Not a sound, not even from the shadows, where they usually lurk. Fingers at the windows, footsteps on the stairs. It's a dark winters night with a chill in the air. It makes me feel cold up my back and down my legs. I'm going to burrow down under my sheets, early and give into the night, give into the day, flick the teev on and switch off.
Tuesday'itis, to be sure. Yesterday was a public holiday, so that let Monday off the hook, quite nicely. I've got the start of the week fucked-off'ness. So instead of questioning why? Why I do what I do? Too chicken, too comfortable, to do what I really want to do. Give in. Is the whole of life for giving in?
Reality falls short of your dreams? I'm going to switch off early. Stop thinking. Just stop. Entertain me.
I ignored two calls from Manny. Bad Chris!
The door bell rang mid afternoon. Manny's face was smiling back at me, when I opened it.
"I've missed you babe," he said. He kissed me.
He pushed me back into the house, almost just with his lips and closed the door, with his arm, without losing contact. I pulled my head back. His handsome face was a little flushed, and smiling. He had his sex eyes on.
"I've missed you too."
"I can't stay long." He pushed me onto the floor. "I've got to be somewhere." He undid my jeans. He pulled my cock out and started to suck... hard.
I was stoned. My head absolutely, fuckin spun. My eyes roll down flat with the floor. There was only one sensation in the whole universe. "Manny! Fuck!" He just kept sucking. I held the top of his head with both my hands. Every thing went dark, as I lost my breath...
... I closed my eyes, every thing was quiet. Nothing existed.
"I do miss you." Manny's breath was on my neck. I rolled around until his breath was on my breath.
"That was just to show you how much." Our lips caressed each other. It's just nice to feel him next to me, taking up his space, sometimes. Smell him. Taste him. He lay on top of me. We hugged tight.
"I've got to go," he whispered in my ear.
I know it's, um... something towards world peace that Abu Musab al-Zarqawi dead. (We know because Mr President told us, that is that he is dead and that he is a terrorist... keeping in mind there isn't a lot that Mr President has said about Iraq that has been true) but do the good, god fearing people of America have to orgasm quite so hard at the news.
So do we say, Christians 1, Muslims 0?
Tom went to meet up with Shane, they wanted to organise drugs, and to meet Shane's new boyfriend, Matt, who Shane had been out with the night before doing drugs, so you can imagine they weren't at their best. It was interesting when it turned out to be the same Matt, whose last meeting with Tom, be it quite a few years back now, was to walk into a room to see Tom, and his then boyfriend Tom, injecting Matt's then gorgeous boyfriend, Mark, with crystal meth.
He just sneered at me with a look of loathing, said Tom. So, I guess he still remembered it.
He isn't to know that you gave up those wicked ways, I said. Oh, how many years ago did you get sick?
It was very uncomfortable, said Tom. He clearly hasn't forgiven me.
I went to Guido's to get drugs for Mark and Luke. I can never help but feel anxious, paranoid about stumbling into some surveillance nightmare. I like to get in and get out as fast as possible.
Guido had some near naked teenager on his couch, 18, possibly 19, realistically, in the light. He likes them to be baby-faced. The room was smeared with evidence of s*x. His eyes were mere slits. His jocks were doing a poor job at hiding his half-boner, which he kept nervously touching. His jocks had wet spots where is considerable knob pushed up against them. Is that a visual display of his fertility?
Guido rolled a joint, I could see he was in no mood to hurry, either.
I picked up Mark and Luke's tickets, I organised their drugs and collected the lot so they had a one shop stop to partying.
Luke said he hadn't taken drugs for 2 years. I found that hard to believe. I can't remember the last time I took any?
Did I ever tell you Nicholas' coming out story, with a certain priest in a certain parish, when he was fifteen? Did I?
Now remember, Nicholas is very pretty, ridiculously pretty for a boy. Beautiful blue eyes - he has this trick where he asks you something, and then he looks at you and his eyes just sparkle, as he waits for your response... the sparkling eyes are followed by his beautiful smile, particularly, if he wants something. The jury is still out on whether he does it consciously.
He went to his local priest to confess his sinful thoughts and to ask for guidance to stop it happening.
I have some exercises and some games to play, said Father Rob. To help you deal with this issue.
The priest ushered troubled Nicholas into Manse and straight into his bedroom, where he sucked on Nicholas' considerable and, according to Tim, most beautiful cock, in no time. When he suggested for Nicholas to lie face-down on his bed so he could perform a very special test, Nicholas got scared and ran home.
What he did to my cock felt good, said Nicholas. But I wasn't attracted to him. But I knew I wanted another guy to do that to me again.
Mark and Luke picked up their first married man, let's call him Brad. Blond, twenty eight. Wife eight months pregnant, she hasn't wanted sex for quite a few months. Gorgeous blue eyes. Dazzling, if nervous, smile.
Athletic. They picked him up in Bolago, apparently, pretty much in the main street. He said he'd seen Luke about town, before, looking for too long.
They had to be gentle with him, he was shaking. He's only ever had sex with guys when he was at school. His wife and he usually have regular sex and it keeps his mind from straying. He'd always had girl friends who liked sex, who kept him satisfied. It was only when his wife no longer wanted sex, with the pregnancy of their first child, that his mind began to wander.
Nice big cock, apparently he was up for everything, once his shyness left him. He went off like a volcano... far too quick, though.
He's very keen to make a return visit, apparently. He said something about his wife being in hospital for a few days when she gives birth. The wife also goes to a city doctor and she stays with her parents over night when she does.
Apparently, a good catholic boy and a young liberal, to boot.
I think that is what people, conservative forces, don't realise, the number of guys up for gay sex is way more than they ever realised, and it is certainly not exaggerated by the likes of 'the gay agenda,' if you know what I mean.
It's cold and windy at Bolago, even if the sun is out, this morning. I wished I'd bought my camera, as the sun is sharp and clear against the flowers in the garden and it is shining through the square-paned windows throwing long, play-school shadows across the floor. "We'll look through the square window today, thanks Miss Pat."
I didn't leave Fitzroy until late, as my whole day was pushed forward four hours after I woke up unexpectedly at 2pm yesterday. One eye cracked open to see the time and, initially, I thought to myself that the power must have gone off. But the clock would be flashing if the time had gone off. Reality hitting; but I never sleep late. Fuck! 2pm!
I'd fallen asleep on the couch, after Mark and Luke left, only to wake up at 5am. Well, it's too early to get up now, I thought, so I went to bed.
Of course, it was the day that I had to do a house inspection with Lottie. She'd sent her new best friend handy man over to do something, I don't know what and he'd reported back that the rental house was in a deplorable condition and that Lottie had better get herself over there to investigate what had to be done. She flew into a minor spin and requested my presence to accompany her on the viewing.
"I've got to take down the sunroom and have it rebuilt, before it falls down and hurts someone," Lottie told me.
It had been my dad's next project, that and repairing my 12 volt lighting that isn't working, when he so inconsiderately died, so Lottie feels some what attached to the idea, as it is. Pity she doesn't feel quite the same kinship with my twelve volt lighting.
The house looked fine to me, well, no different to how it has ever looked. Sure the old sunroom is dilapidated, but it isn't going to fall down any time soon.
Now Lottie, or should I say us three kids, are in the enviable position of her owning one of the worst houses in one of the very best streets, in one of the best suburbs and Lottie is getting on in years. (you do the maths) So, as you can guess, the minute that house is sold, it will have a bulldozer put through it. There is no point in spending any money on it, unless she is going to do a full renovation, which she is not.
So, I didn't get home until 6pm. Tom was already at my place, as he's going out partying, for Wesley's birthday, tempting me with amphetamines to come out too. "I've got extra, enough for you." He also tempted me with an out of it Wesley ripe for the taking.
Oh Tom.
Perry would forgive you.
It's still tacky...
You've got to drop your principles if you want to get a little action.
Who needs that angst. Perry might forgive me, but he wouldn't be happy about it.
Too much class, said Tom. It must be a burden?
Spoken like a boy who lived too many years in Sydney, I said.
All the way up the highway I kept thinking that I had made the wrong decision. I always seem to have a reason not to go out and take drugs, now-a-days. I guess there would be those amongst us who'd say that was a good thing. But, I'm not so sure. What's wrong with a little fun, after all? (and if I want to find a Manny replacement, well, he is not going to come knocking on my door, that's for sure. Besides, I'm much better in person, procuring partners, than I ever am on-line. I've always been an in the flesh kind of boy)
Mark and Luke were watching Team America, when I arrived. Luke switched it off. Got bored with that, he said.
We smoked pot and went to bed late.
Now it's Sunday and the wind is blowing and the sun is shining and if it wasn't quite so cold, I'd go for a walk in the forest to clear my head and stretch my legs.
Two more days off. Woo-hoo!
I called Manny, as I headed up the freeway, vaguely near his place, making certain promises of what I'd do to him if I stopped in for a pit-stop, pipe cleaning, kiss and say good bye, kind of time.
He wasn't answering his phone. Maybe, he was in a lock the world out, kind of mood. I don't know, he does that some times. For days at a time, occasionally.
I called a second time, just in case he had the music loud, waxing his chest in the room, was just coming home from gym, just to see if I could will him to be there. Nothing.
It left me horny, all the way to Bolago.
Damn that boy! Why isn't he on tap when I want him to be?
Manny and I have been going into tattslotto every week and so far we have won nothing, not a cent.
Last weekend was the super 23 million dollar draw, Manny wondered what it would be like to win all that money.
What would you do if you won 23 million? he said.
I'd have you genetically modified, I thought. Bump up the ambition level. He's so close to being perfect, the package is certainly right...
But I said, I don't know Man, head off to the Greek islands... you and me.
I hung out with Mark and Luke. We smoked pot. I haven't all week. I had contemplated buying some dope for the long weekend. All my mates are going out to parties to take drugs and dance. I have to meet with the COO 9.30am Tuesday morning. And it's not that I couldn't have pulled it off, it's just that it's nice to feel human when I do. You know, no sudden dry mouth. Sweats. It's good to feel kind of normal in such situations. My days of 9 o'clock meeting coming down are behind me. I don't know how I did it. Truthfully, I didn't do it that often. It's not a good thing.
I had decided against the dope, it just turns me into a boring twat. I would have lost three days with nothing to show for it, if I'd stopped off at Guido's for a bag of his finest.
Luke left me a few buds, though. I know, I'm as weak as piss.
But on the positive side, at least this way it'll be gone by tonight.
Adam and Raymond came over too. Apparently, they can get married because Raymond is still a British citizen. I guess that's good. I fancy Adam, always have. We've played together a couple of times, although a long time ago now, before he met Raymond.
So they get to register their union. How sweet.
I'm not marrying anyone, I don't care what the Australian law may or may not do, I don't believe in it. Another useless traditional construct. We are all such sheep. But having said that, people should have the choice, if they want to.
I've never heard a good reason why they shouldn't. Just because it's going to fuck up, doesn't mean they shouldn't give it a go.
A friend of mine said to me today, You couldn't have an Asian boyfriend, could you? I was a bit taken a back.
I stumbled a bit, Well, I'm not looking for one. Okay, bad start. I don't think I have a type. Even I knew that was ridiculous, as I said it, as I'm famous for loving wogboys... thank you Laurie, I loved him more than life itself, thank you Maurice, thank you Carmine, two sexy fuck buddies, thank you Manny - I guess I don't have to explain Manny.
He just looked at me.
Shake of the head, get my brain around that one of my friends would even be saying this to me. Of course I could, why?
He looked at me blankly, so I assumed he wasn't going to explain himself any time soon.
Couldn't you?
They are just not my thing, he said.
A whole race of men?
Well, you've never had...
I saw that boy Christian - yes, I know, too, too cutesy - when I was working in Sydney. And while I wouldn't classify him as a boyfriend, naturally, he was a hot boy and we had a great time together. He wanted me to meet his parents, they had a restaurant in Paramatta, I think, but I'm not, necessarily, the meet the parents kind of boy.
Tim - another wogboy connoisseur - said once that if you put a pillow over the backs of their heads, while you are pumping their arses, they look like Italians. I remember, I laughed at the time, more for the ridiculousness of what he had said than anything else.
But you know, it got me thinking about it today and it really is awful, isn't it? Imagine being subject to that kind of subtle racisim every time you go out to get laid.
Just so there is no confusion, yes, of course, I could have an Asian boyfriend.
I don't know if it's good for me to live on my own,
I'm not sure if it's good for me to spend so much time alone.
I like it too much, I crave it, I want it,
house to myself, close the world out, just me and the cat.
I went from party boy, always out, always out of it,
to hermit boy, time to myself, no regret.
I used to take any thing and every thing
just to have fun and be a bad, bad, boy. (actually, just to have fun)
I haven't had sex with strangers for the longest time. The chill up my spine as I kiss them and slide my hand down their pants for the first time. I used to love it so much, wanted it, went out looking for it. Always had open relationships because of it, really - although now, I'm tending towards monogamy (it's even a hard word to say. My mate Shane can't bring himself to even utter the word), they can put in now, because I think I'm ready to.
But, as much as I know Manny isn't the guy for me, he's hot in the sack and has me totally captivated that way. Just hearing his sexy, husky voice - all Greek boys have distinctive voices - over the phone gets me going.
I told him that his sexy balls are on display on my blog for the world to see... it made him hot. He liked it.
He said he'd happily pose for more.
That's my boy!
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