I recently experienced the blow off with a guy that I had been seeing for a couple months. We’ll call him Justice. Justice is a guy that hit me up on a4a several months ago. He’s 35, 5’10, about 200 pounds, has a muscular build and smooth dark skin. He’s what you might call hot chocolate. We had exchanged several messages on a4a and one day he sent me his number. I called him and we had a great conversation, which stretched on for hours. It was clear that we were really digging each other, and before you knew it, we were talking and texting daily. Dealing with him was very refreshing because he was attentive and always reciprocated, which is a huge deal to me.

Although he lived about 40 minutes across town, we started hanging out regularly. Sex eventually entered the equation, and it was mind-blowingly good because there was the physical connection, but also a mental and emotional connection.  Things were going great with Justice and I even started to get nervous (but very excited) because it was looking like this situation was heading towards a relationship…..then, came the blow off.

The shift was pretty dramatic. He went from texting me randomly and constantly to not communicating with me at all. If I texted him, he would respond hours later, or not at all. If I called him, he wouldn’t respond, or would respond the next day with a text. One day, we agreed to meet up at his place to watch a movie and when I texted him to see what was up, he responded that he wouldn’t be home until late at night because he was called in to work overtime. However, he promised me that he we would be able to hang out the next week once he got off the overtime list. Next week came and went and I didn’t hear from him. Almost 2 weeks later, I still haven’t heard from him. I’ve thought about calling him to get to the bottom of things, but I believe that it will likely be the same story: there will be a delay, followed by an excuse, followed by a promise, followed by more silence. I’m going to hit him up one more time just to remove any doubt that I’ve been blown off, but I’m considering the whole thing with Justice dunzo.

I’m cool with it, though I was initially disappointed and perplexed at what caused him to blow me off like that. He seemed to be really into me, so maybe he got scared about where things were heading. Maybe someone more appealing to him came into the picture. Maybe I did or said something that turned him all the way off. I’ll likely never know, and I’ve realized that I can’t waste energy trying to ascertain the motives that drove his behavior. The bottom line is that he suddenly went cut off contact and communication, which is a clear enough message for me. Now it’s possible that he sustained a devastating injury or a serious death in the family which caused him to not call.  I guess nothing soothes debilitating injuries or unbearable grief like logging into a4a regularly

I enjoyed it for what it was and I think the whole thing helped me reaffirm my expectations for what I want out of dating and relationships. A little birdie told me that Justice is apparently a highly sought after dude who is notorious for dropping dudes after sexing them on the first night. My ego can’t help but be stroked by the fact that I was able to keep his attention for as long as I did. At any rate, upwards and onwards.

Being that humans exist in a state that makes us unable to scientifically confirm the existence of God, I think being an agnostic makes more sense than being an atheist.

Funny how someone who is gay can hate homosexuality just as much as people who are not gay.

Looking good and being healthy have not been very good motivations for working out. Being strong enough to survive is….

I’m very much a lone wolf. I need to embrace that.

I’ve sometimes dreamt of being in a vocal group with my 3 brothers. Being that we’re related, our vocal blend would be bananas.

I have an aunt who’s a dead ringer for Loretta Devine. No lie.

Based on my experience, men are only good for sex. And most of them aren’t even really that good.

I’m taking that trip, but it won’t be with him. Got no major hard feelings, but I don’t want to hear about the guy he’s dating and how they made their shit official on Valentine’s Day, especially since my Valentine’s Day was awful (wow I’m complaining again, but this is my blog so fuck it). Along the way, I realized that Wavelength is a bit of a poser and I genuinely lost interest in him. I sound bitter, but I’m really just salty about the fact that after he wasted my valuable time and blew hot and cold, he wants to hit me up and chit and chat. No sir, not happening.

1. Slave mentality: I fucking hate black people that have a slave mentality. For some reason, in 2011, that’s all I run into. Be they color struck folk, crab-in-a-barrel folk, folks with no appreciation for their history and roots, criminally ignorant folks or just close-minded folks, I can’t stand to be around black people who seem to still be stuck in 1848. Get your mind right. Or better yet, do the planet Earth a favor and let natural selection have its way with the whole lot of you.

2. Arrogance: “Oh I’m cocky as fuck.” “Arrogance is such a turn-on ooooh ahhhh.” Fuckers. I can’t decide which irks me more, the arrogant fools themselves, or the idiots that eat that shit up, thinking it’s some kind of attractive quality. Newsflash, dumbfucks, arrogance a.k.a. cockiness is actually a sign of insecurity. People usually display arrogance to mask some weakness or inadequacy. For fear of appearing inept or lacking in some way, they throw up a front — kind of like a scared animal puffing itself up to seem bigger and more intimidating. Fail. Drop the arrogance and get some real confidence.

3. Phony people: For the life of me, I don’t know why people are so lame that they can’t say what they mean and mean what they say. They claim to be your friend, but they spend all of their time talking smack behind your back (mostly out of jealousy and frustration). It’s difficult for me to understand, because out of all the people that I dislike, not a single one of them is under the illusion that we’re cool. Not a one. So I have very little patience for two-faced liars. How the hell can you bash someone on one day, and then skin and grin in their face the next? Eat shit and die slowly and painfully.

4. 90% of gay men. No explanation needed. By the way, the term “gay community” is a joke. It’s called the gay hierarchy, asshole.

5. Fake ass Christians: The kindest, most pure-hearted people that I know are not Christians. Yet, the ugliest, dirtiest, grimiest scum I’ve ever encountered claim to be saved and stay quoting the Bible and what not. Hell, no one’s perfect, but I fail to understand how someone can be utterly despicable on one day, and then blessed and highly favored the next day. It’s like 115 degrees today, and blizzard the next day. The shit doesn’t add up. In particular, I hate the hypocritical slime that bash homosexuality, but have slept with most of the congregation and half the damn city. Sit on a porcupine and spin. If there is a Hell, I can’t wait to see those fake ass Christians sizzle. Fucking roaches.

I’m just bursting with hate lol. I guess I’m just one or two steps away from the dark side. Have a wonderful day friends

“The Principles of Lust” by Enigma

Once upon a time, or actually a few years ago, I really wanted to fall in love. I told myself that I was going to wait patiently for The One. While I waited for The One, I would keep myself in pristine sexual condition. Totally unspoiled and untouched. This way, when The One finally rose out of the sea covered in sea foam and stars and shit, he would be able to enjoy a new and unused me. Well…. fuck that shit. At this point in my life, I’ve realized that The One being a no-show is largely a structural issue, an inherent problem with the gay hiearchy (this shit is not a community). I’ve accepted  the reality that I may never find real, lasting love and there’s not shit that I can do about it. I’m fine with that, but I’m not going to sit down like some kind of fucking celibate priest and twiddle my thumbs. I’m going to have sex while my shit still functions.

Now there are plenty of people that would judge me and call me some kind of whore blah blah BLAH. I tried being a good boy and all I got out of it was blue balls. I’m not saying that I’m going to rush out and start having dudes nut in my ass raw; I’m just saying that I intend to fully and responsibly enjoy my sexuality. I’ve abandoned the  idealistic notion of saving myself sexually for someone who may never come.

So, that means that the sexy Caribbean dude with the 10.5 that wants to fuck next week will probably get it. Judge me if you dare. Might have a sex with a hot-bodied dude that I’m currently talking to. My new attitude also means if the urge strikes me, I’ll probably start fucking Chris again. And who knows? In the process of enjoying myself, I just might beat the odds and meet someone with whom I could fall in love. Maybe I’ll meet him at a sex party. Or a bathhouse. Or online. Or maybe not. Oh well, fuck it.

In my last post, I big upped beautiful dark-skinned women. I received several positive comments, which I greatly I appreciate, but a couple of you requested a post dedicated to some beautiful man meat. To honor your requests and to make up for being AWOL, I have put together some pics of some beautiful, sexy, delicious dark-skinned men. Enjoy

If you know me, then you know I absolutely cannot stand color struck black folk. In fact, I abhor them. That’s one reason I’m getting the fuck out of the South. I love to peruse black gossip blogs, trash that they are. As much as I enjoy those trashy, filthy, disgusting sites, I’ve noticed that many of the visitors often leave comments that betray a color struck mentality. One popular shred of nonsense that is often perpetuated on those sites (and the black community at large) is that there is no such thing as a pretty dark-skinned woman. *Sigh* I really feel for the sick individuals that make these comments.  They’re delusional and brainwashed to the point of requiring psychiatric care. Also, they’ve obviously never met my mother, a dark-skinned woman who has NEVER wanted for attention from men.

All that being said, I decided to post some pics of dark-skinned women that will obviously put these color struck clowns to shame. And by the way, I don’t have a problem with anybody who may have a preference for lighter skinned individuals. My vitriol is directed at that special brand of black people that think that dark-skinned equals ugly. Anyway, enjoy

In my last couple of posts about Chris, I mentioned Wavelength. If you recall, I went to Chris’ house directly after leaving my date with Wavelength. Ho. The brevity, ambiguity and poor quality of the date left me craving some affection, so I went over to Chris, where, as you know, I found myself dodging fiances and imaginary snakes. Of course, hooking up with a fuck buddy I had previously sworn off was probably not the best way to handle my frustration with Wavelength, but lemme give you the scoop on this dude.

A couple months ago, BigBro came to visit for the weekend. It was his first time visiting the city and I wanted to show him a good time (though I wasn’t fully prepared due to some annoying mishaps). Anyway, BigBro was in town and we were doing our thing and decided to check out the nightlife. Being that I hardly ever go to clubs for various reasons, it was a bit of adventure for me as well. We walked into the first club and made our way to an outdoor patio area, which was less crowded than the inside. It had a different energy than the inside, more laidback, which I liked. BigBro and I started conversing,  and we ended up on the topic of approaching people in clubs such as this. My stance was that so many gay men are hunting for that perfect Adonis (never mind the fact that many of them look like Hephaestus or Medusa themselves). Being that I’m a few rippling pectorals short of being an Adonis myself, I’d rather not bother with trying to approach any deluded asshole at a club. BigBro basically argued that not everyone thinks like that and that attractiveness is not predicated on having a ultra-ripped body, my attractiveness included. I maintained that since I don’t have the look and I believe a majority of gay men are hopelessly shallow, I’d rather not put myself through the masochistic exercise of approaching those hopelessly shallow men in a night club. Besides, I’m more of a sadist. BigBro continued to insist that he believed that I was rather good-looking, and shouldn’t let not having a certain body type prevent me from approaching guys I was interested in.

At this point, Wavelength, who had been sitting next to us and listening to our conversation, cut in and added that he found BigBro cute, but though that I was cuter. BigBro was elated that his point was proven in such an unexpected way, and I was actually pleasantly embarrassed at being complimented in such a way. It turns out that Wavelength was on a date with a guy that had spent the entire time talking to someone else on his cell phone, leaving Wavelength hanging. At that point, Wavelength decided to cut his losses and had found himself engrossed in the conversation taking place place between BigBro and I.

All three of us started talking, and at some point, Wavelength took me inside and bought me a drink. I played it cool (of course), but I definitely was liking the attention. We sat at the bar, started conversing and the chemistry was on. He made no secret about the fact that he wanted to jump my bones. We continued chatting and I felt myself gradually getting turned on by this dude. Eventually, I realized that it was getting late and I had left BigBro hanging back on the patio, so I let Wavelength know that I had to get going soon. We exchanged numbers and made our way back to the patio, only to find that BigBro had snagged a cutie for himself. BigBro introduced us and cutie made a point to say “Wow, you’re quite handsome!” BigBro definitely has good taste lol. We made a little more small talk and then BigBro, Wavelength and I made our way out of the club. Wavelength walked with BigBro and I to my car and basically said that he wanted to see me again, etc. etc. He even seemed a little uncertain that I would call him, since I was playing it so cool. He reached for a hug, and to let him know I was serious, I gave him a little peck on the lips (don’t laugh).  Got in the car with BigBro and we were out of there.

I was pretty pleased with the way the night turned out, being that I had snagged an attractive, intelligent, local guy and it seemed like BigBro had picked up a cutie to hang with for the weekend. Unfortunately, this fantastic start was not indicative of the lackluster, lukewarm lameness that was to follow….

The last time I left you, I was on my way to see Chris after an uninspired evening with Wavelength. A mix of drunkenness, sexual frustration and convenience overrode my better judgment and helped me to conveniently forget my earlier decision not to leave Chris alone.  Rather than feel guilty or conflicted, I actually savored with anticipation all of the things we would do, especially considering that we hadn’t hooked up in 3 months. “All Night Long” by the Mary Jane Girls was playing on my car stereo and  I was definitely shook up, shook down, shook out on the imminent lovin’. I pulled up to in Chris’ driveway, hopped out of the car, strode up to his front door and rang the doorbell. I heard the familiar growl of his pet pit bull and, after a few seconds,  he opened the door. I could immediately tell that he had been smoking weed, which was not unusual since Chris had said that weed enhanced sex. I kicked off my shoes and sat down on his sofa and we began catching up. Eventually the small talk dwindled and the freakin’ started.

I’ll spare you the details, but it was on. We had moved to the bedroom and were just about to shift into high gear when Chris’ cell phone rang. “Who the hell is that?” he said as he jumped up to answer the call.  He left the bedroom, leaving me with my legs up in the air and question marks above my head. As I sat up in his bed, I heard him ask nervously, “Uh…what white car?”  My white car. An instant later, Chris rushed into the room, and with a panicked look on his face, hissed, “Get out now now! Hurry up go out the back!” I gathered up my clothes and rushed out the door to the backyard. I hadn’t even had time to pull my clothes on, so I was in the backyard pulling on my clothes and hoping none of his neighbors would decide to look out their window. At that point, I had realized that his unexpected guest was most likely his girlfriend. Well damn it serves me fucking right, I thought as I waded through knee-high grass to the gate leading out of the backyard. I sent Chris a text to see if the coast was clear and he responded, “You can go out through backyard door.” I pushed open the door and it wouldn’t budge! I tried it again and it wouldn’t move at all. By this point, I was panicking because I did not want to be stuck in this precarious and undignified predicament. After a few minutes of struggling with the gate, I sent Chris a text message saying the door wouldn’t budge. “Jump over the fence,” he  replied creatively. At this point, I’m right outside his bedroom window and I can see the lights on in his bedroom. I couldn’t help but wonder if he and his girl were picking up where he and I had left off.

After realizing that jumping the damn fence was out of the question, I went back to struggling with the damn gate and finally cracked it open just enough to see that for some bizarre reason, Chris had a shit load of damn bricks stacked against the gate. I started tearing up grass and digging underneath the fence to see if I could push some of the bricks out of the way. I got one or two to budge out of the way and I pushed the gate open again. This time, I was able to slide my hand through the crack in the gate and I started flinging more of the bricks out from in front of the gate. I pushed the gate again and it budged a little bit more, although I noticed that the wooden panels comprising the gate were beginning to crack slightly from the pressure of being pushed so hard. I didn’t really care, I just wanted to get out of that knee-high grass and get the hell on . Eventually, I was able to push the gate open enough to slide through and succeeded in exiting the backyard. Needless to say, I emerged a sweaty, splintered-up, humiliated, annoyed, horny mess. As I was trudging across the Chris’ front yard towards my car, I could see his girlfriend’s car sitting pretty in the drive way. Funny, I had never been able to park in the driveway; I’d always been relegated to parking on the street. After the whole ordeal, I was ready to take my ass home, and that’s exactly what I did.

The next day afternoon I get a text from Chris apologizing for the whole situation yadda yadda. He mentioned that his girlfriend had wanted to know whose white car was parked out front. He had played dumb about that, as well as the hat I had left behind during my hasty escape. I sent him a text asking him to take care of my hat and he promised he would keep it safe adding “I guess you’ll have to come back and get it ” I was thoroughly annoyed that he was seemingly unfazed by our close call. He was ready to dive back into cheating on his girl with me. And I started thinking hard. I know that I’m not looking for a casual fuck buddy. I’m interested in some kind of worthwhile relationship, and I don’t want to be hiding and sneaking around with another person’s man. I think the whole incident was a humongous wake-up call (like a jet engine instead of an alarm clock) that I need to leave the situation alone. I barely squeezed out of it this time, but next time I don’t think I’ll escape from the situation without doing some kind of damage to myself. The fact that I was willing to compromise myself in that manner has forced me to ask myself some rather unpleasant questions about my character and self-esteem. I’ll still need to go get my hat from him, but I’ll make sure to do that in the day time, for a change. After that, when it comes to creepin’ with Chris, I’m definitely dunzo. 

Now,  I’m not bashing Chris for being DL at all. I’m in the down-but-discreet category myself and with all the fucked up shit I’ve done, I certainly don’t have the moral authority to judge another man’s actions. However, I think the ultimate truth that we all must eventually acknowledge is that it is wrong to deceive someone else in a relationship, no matter what your reasons. If you can’t be honest and faithful to your significant other, don’t enter into a relationship with that person. Struggling with an attraction to the same sex, while difficult and confusing, can’t be used to justify dishonesty and unfaithfulness to your wife or girlfriend.

But folks, I’m something of a hypocrite. If I said that Chris and I stopped fucking after I found out several months ago that he had a girlfriend, I would be lying. Lust made me totally selfish and we continued to fuck, even though I knew he had a girl. I resorted to using the age-old justification that hey, I’m not dating her and I have no responsibility to her. That’s on him.  There were times that I even reveled in it. However, after heavily considering how trifling it really is to knowingly sleep with another person’s boyfriend, I decided to discontinue our liaison, a decision that was supported and reinforced by my friends who know about Chris. So there was no reason at all why I should have started driving towards Chris’ house after my “date” with Wavelength (another story). I guess he was close by and I was frustrated at how my evening with Wavelength had gone. Throw in a buzz from the margaritas and a 3 2-month dry spell, and you had the perfect mix of excuses for my dumb ass decision. It was funny, because Chris hit me up right before I even made the decision to go to his place. I replied to let him know I should have been there in 10 minutes, but had I known what was in store, I would have just taken my ass home….To be continued