Cut the Shit

Alphabits:

Arrested for throwing rocks over a bridge at oncoming traffic when I was 14.
Bombed my SAT’S with a 990.
Came out of the closet when I was 21.
Drank a coke that had two cigarette butts and ashes put out into it.
Enjoy french fries at least 4 times a week.
Fingered two girls in my life.
Gave 10 guys blowjobs in my life.
Horrible at letting things go.
Intelligence is number 3 in what I look for in a man.
Joe is not my real name.
Kegal exercises make me want to vomit.
Listen to all kinds of music, ranging from folk to pop to heavy metal punk ska.
Make $30,000 a year at my snorified job.
Never eat breakfast.
Orange you glad I didn’t say banana.
Practice my Oscar acceptance speech when I am bored.
Q-Bert was one of my most favorite games on my Atari.
Remember little to nothing before age 8.
Sing in a baritone range.
Tickle people that I love
Underwear is for sissies.
Vintage clothing makes me yawn.
Wrestle with boys I am attracted to.
Xstacey makes me cringe.
Yell very loudly when I am incensed with anger.
Zoos make me puke and warm my heart at the same time.

Now let’s make some soup!

Please help me INTERPRET MY DREAM:

Kelly and I are walking through the streets of Washington DC. All around us we see landmarks. There are street vendors and balloons and the smell of hot dogs in the air. It’s a beautiful day outside and there is a cloudless sky. As we walk along, Kelly and I laugh at different things and talk about the fact that we are having a great time visiting DC.

We hear an airplane approaching overhead and we both stop to see where it is coming from. Over the top of a very tall building, we see a jumbo jet fly into our vision. We both comment on how low the plane is flying and how slowly it seems to be moving. As the plane crosses our line of vision, it seems to sink even lower to the ground. Just before it is out of sight, the plane turns it’s nose and looks directly at Kelly and me. Kelly and I laugh out loud as we have never seen a plane turn its nose and stare at someone before. We walk to the end of the sidewalk and watch the plane swivel back and come back toward us. We notice the White House in plain view. The airplane flies towards the White House and just as it’s about to collide into the roof, it accelerates speed and bounces off the building as though the entire thing is made of rubber. It literally bounces off and keep flying.

That’s when the streets and buildings start to shake uncontrollably. Kelly and I stop laughing and realize that there is an earthquake starting. The crowds in the street start panicking and we hear someone yell “It’s the terrorists!” Kelly and I look up and see the tops of skyscrapers swaying in the wind. Mass confusion and hysteria. People are running and screaming. We see mother’s trying to grab their children as they frantically figure out how to take shelter. To our left someone calls Kelly’s name. “Kelly! Kelly, bring Joe and get in here.”

I don’t recognize the face of the person who calls us, but I see that he is standing in the doorway of a museum. Kelly and I quickly run over to the man and he ushers us into the grand lobby of some random museum. When we get inside, we notice that there are hundreds of people crammed into the lobby. There are still screams all around us. Kelly and I move to the center of the room. Suddenly there is silence in the lobby. Not a sound. Kelly and I look at each other wondering why everyone is so quiet. “I don’t think this is an earthquake”, I say to her.

The walls of the museum start to wobble and shake. Then, without warning, both of the walls on the east and west side of the building collapse in on themselves. Mass hysteria again. Kelly and I can see that everyone standing underneath the walls are immediately crushed. We are then bounced around like a pinball by everyone trying to grab their families and get out of the building. I glance to my left and see that not only have the walls caved in, they are being moved into the center of the room, seemingly by a 90 ft. bulldozer, although I can’t actually see the piece of machinery.

Kelly grabs my arm and when I look at her, I notice tears streaming down her face. “We are going to die Joe. We are going to die today.” I grab her by the arm and I start shoving people out of the way. Cinderblocks begin falling from the ceiling. They crash all around us. People are being crushed immediately by the falling cement. Still holding onto Kelly, I begin climbing over the fallen blocks. I can see the exit door and although it can’t be more than 25 feet away, it feels as though we will never reach it. I climb and climb and shove people to the left and right. I look back to make sure Kelly is still behind me and I see that she is lying on the floor. She is dead. A cinderblock has crushed her skull. I stand and look at her in horror. It is at this point, that I realize that I am going to die too. I begin to ask God for a chance at survival. With people screaming and dying all around me, I ask God to spare my life. A peace washes over me as I look through the falling rocks at the door. I say “I’m going to die. I am going to die today.” With that, the entire ceiling falls and I stare at the rocks as gravity pulls them to earth.

I wake up with a start in my bed. I am covered in sweat and my heart is pounding out of my chest. Now, I am known for having nightmares. I dream vividly every night, but about once a week, I get a horrible dream that I just can’t shake. This one in particular was so horrifying that I sat in my bed for a half an hour smoking cigarettes, trying to get my mind on something else. I prayed to God over and over asking him to clear my thoughts. My biggest fear was going back to sleep and re-entering the dream, which has happened to me before.

Eventually I did fall back to sleep and I didn’t have the dream again. But since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I run the events of the dream over and over in my head in great detail. It makes my stomach hurt.

What do you think it means?

As much as I try to let my head do some of the thinking, my heart always steps in and controls my actions.

Last night I met up with Ahmad and told him that I thought it would be best if we pursued our new found relationship as friends. I was unsure as to how he would take the news. Although we have only known each other for a week, I could tell that his feelings were progressing way too fast. So, in order to get us on the same page, I invited him over for a pot session.

When Ahmad showed up at my apartment, he was all smiles. He could tell that something was wrong with me almost immediately and without any hesitation, we dove into a conversation about us. I explained that I am just not ready to let go of Paul completely. Against my better judgement, I am still greatly in love with Paul. He consumes most of my thoughts every day and it wouldn’t be fair to Ahmad for me to continue being with him in the same way. I told him that I thought he was an incredible person and that at a different time in our lives, we might be perfect for each other. I further explained that I was most afraid of hurting him down the road and ultimately destroying any chance we could have at a friendship.

Ahmad was immediately upset. He did his best to hide the way he felt and to be logical about the situation. When that didn't work, he pulled every trick in the book. He told me he couldn’t be “just friends”. He told me that he would give me the world. He told me that he was ready to change my life in the most positive of ways. Without saying it, he told me that he was quickly and for the first time in his life, falling in love.

I countered everything he said with ease and did my best to make him see that a friendship is what is best for us right now. Ultimately I realized that there was no getting through to him. Ahmad was hurt and I was grateful that I had this conversation with him as quickly as I did. It horrified me to think how he would have felt had I waited another week. I told him to go home and to put me out of his head for a few days. The kid needs perspective and having me around all the time will not allow him that. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked out the door.

Tonight is supposed to be my one night with Paul for the week. Of course, Paul has fucked up the plans and we will not be hanging out afterall. Paul has no respect for anyone, but himself. Nothing changes. But I have realized something about MYSELF. I am not scared of losing Paul anymore. I am not scared of living my own life, independent of a boyfriend. I am not scared of stepping out into the world alone. For so long I lived under this façade that I needed a boy, that I needed someone to take care of me. Now I see that that’s a bunch of horseshit. No one needs ANYONE else to make them happy. Happiness comes from within. Gosh, it’s so easy to forget that sometimes.

As much as I would love to step out and meet a new guy…
As much as I would love to let go of Paul forever…
As much as I would love to shift my life into another direction…

I realize that I am still not ready. I have come farther with all of this stuff than I ever thought was possible. But now that I see that I have the ability to do these things, I want to focus on making small steps toward achieving them. Paul is still my number one. After 3 and half years, I don’t know how to treat my happiness as the primary priority. In my mind, I still worry about his happiness so much more of the time.

It may take weeks, it may take months…hell it could be another year of this. But deep down I know that eventually I will achieve the level of satisfaction and contentment that I have always wanted.

Eventually I will fall in love with someone who is right for me.

My God.

If I could be any more worn out and tired today, I think I would be classified as the first walking gay corpse. I really shouldn’t complain as I had one of the best weekends ever, but damn, it sapped every bit of life I had left in my body. Besides getting little to no sleep every night, I drank and drank and drank as though alcohol was a life saving elixir. Never once got a hangover, but hell if my eyes aren’t blood shot with exhaustion nonetheless.

Spent a great deal of time with Ahmad this weekend. A bit too much perhaps. I went into the weekend in love with him and I left the weekend wondering if I want to continue down the same path that we are currently heading on. I think the main problem is that he likes me way too much. He is falling hard and fast and it makes me panic with fear. In the past I have always liked a challenge, have always gone for the bad boy. Or at least the boy who was impossible to make like me - whether he was “straight” or emotionally unavailable or whatever else makes guys unattainable. With Ahmad, it’s constant sweetness and compliments. He takes amazing care of me, pays for any whim I might have, and holds me with more fervor than any hug Paul has ever bestowed upon me. He is the ideal boyfriend, yet I just know that his heart is going to get broken.

I have tried in various ways to explain to him that we need to take everything a bit slower. But honestly, at this point, if we were moving any slower, we would be cobwebbed over and smell like stale milk. Ok, does that make sense at all? Nah lets move on. Ahmad and I had our first hook up this weekend. He stayed over at my place on Saturday night and we did nothing, but kiss and hug. I woke up at 8:30am Sunday morning to him kissing my neck and then we kinda just fell into it. I did not cum, as I never do, and Ahmad finished himself. I sucked his dick for awhile and was getting incredibly exhausted at the effort I had to put forth. Fortunately, he read my mind and took the matter into his own hands. Ha.

I feel very weird about the hook up. We crossed the line and now there is no way to ever go back.

I stayed at his place last night and he made me a beautiful dinner. He even left halfway through the evening to go get more wine, since he thought that was what I wanted. He calls me handsome and beautiful and wants nothing but to be in love. He has never had that experience before and it seems as though he has set his sights on falling in love with me. I know like I sound presumptuous, but honestly, you know when someone is falling hard for you. You know it and if you aren’t ready for it, it can be a very scary thing. I have told Ahmad all about Paul. I have explained the entire situation to him and so far he is very comfortable with it. He understands and is willing to work around it. Well, then again, of course he is willing to work around it…I have yet to make him really do that. As Ahmad has said over and over to me “Let’s just take this whole thing one day at a time.” (big sigh) I don’t know.

Paul and I spent Sunday night together. I explained to him that Ahmad and I were officially dating and that Saturday night was the night of our first hook up. I could tell that this hurt him. But since I have been honest with him from the beginning, he has no reason to be angry. In fact, he told me that it’s best for me TO date Ahmad right now. Paul is “not in the place to give me what I need” and he “doesn’t want to hold me back any longer.” However, he spent the entire night being the boyfriend I have always wanted him to be. Figures. He left to go home to Boston on Monday morning and as he walked out my door, I looked at him and thought about how deeply in love with him I still am.

WHY WHY WHY?

Why am I still so in love with him? Why do I want him over Ahmad? Why do I want to give him chance after chance to make things better? Why do I make myself crazy over this? Why can’t I just sit back and let it all happen on its own?

Paul has been working over time to make our relationship better. However, I know he is doing this only because he is jealous of my thing with Ahmad. I need to keep my head focused and try to do what is best for me, whether that means continuing with Ahmad or breaking it off entirely. I have this tendency to follow my heart and not listen to my head. This situation requires a bit of both.

By the way, my shit this morning looked like black vomit. Very strange. Maybe it’s because I spent the entire night kissing a Muslim.

Interesting.

I just found a pube stuck in my keyboard.
sick.

In the last 24 hours, I:

1) Took 4 shits. Two of which were during the night.
2) Ate one of the best cheeseburgers of my entire life. (And it only cost me $7(!) and it included fries!)
3) Frantically solidified plans for this weekend.
4) Rented a car for Paul’s trip to Boston next week.
5) Made plans for lunch with Ahmad at one of my favorite Queen’s diners. (Chicken Souvlaki from the
Neptune, anyone?)
6) Watched 3 episodes of Real Sex on HBO.
7) Watched 2 episodes of Sex and the City on HBO.
8) Watched 1 episode of Will and Grace and nearly shot myself in the head before it was over.
Can you say “overabundance of stereotypes”?
9) Discovered a new phrase to add to my lexicon on the lame Will and Grace episode I watched.
“Rudeness Giuliani”. Funny, right?
10) Poked Paul in the bellybutton 11 times.
11) Did 12 sit-ups.
12) Took a cab to work because the trains at Times Square were shut down.
13) Ate two ice cream sandwiches.
14) Ate two slices of pizza.
15) Ate a fudgesicle
16) Realized I can’t stop eating.
17) Figured out why I took four shits in the last 24 hours.
18) Got angry over something stupid and squashed it before I ripped the person’s face off.
19) Licked a penis.
20) Was told to stop licking the penis.
21) Flicked the penis.
22) Dropped a freshly lit cigarette out of my mouth and had to leave it behind due to oncoming traffic.
23) Called my best friend.
24) Had a laughing fit so intense that my sides still hurt today.
25) Talked to my parents.
26) Prayed for my brother.
27) Smoked 14 cigarettes.
28) Got a compliment on my hairstyle.
29) Got a new belt from the clothing pantry at work.
30) Read 75 pages in my book. (Jaws)
31) Listened to the Mamma Mia soundtrack all the way through.
32) Gave $.36 to a homeless woman with bright red lipstick riding up her face.
33) Stepped on an Asian woman’s hand.
34) Slept for 6 hours.
35) Broke a brand new umbrella the first time I used it.
36) Found a “Good N Plenty” on the floor of Paul’s apartment and ate it for laughs.
37) Got embarrassed that no one laughed at me eating crap off the floor.
38) Bit a fingernail off much too low.
39) Balanced my checkbook.
40) Got pissed off at my checkbook and decided that I hate checkbooks.
41) Felt fat.
42) Felt skinny.
43) Felt like this entry is totally fucking lame.
44) Decided to end this entry with a swear word coupled with an ugly adjective.
45) Seafood cunt.

Off to lunch with Ahmad and then off to a weekend of craziness. Most likely will not be back here until Tuesday. But you never know! Hope everyone has an incredibly fun Memorial Day. I know I will!

Be safe.

And never drink the fluid from an amniotic sac.

Hi, my name is…
What?
My name is!
Who?
My name is!!!!
SO GENERIC SIT-EE!

I am stuck in the middle of boresville today. It’s rainy, nothing exciting is really going on, and I don’t have too much to write about. I mean, what am I? Selfish? I just had a wonderful date two nights ago and now I sit here complaining that nothing fun or exciting ever happens to me. OK…I have to understand that downtime is needed at some point. Snores.

Here is a quick story…

My brother (who is currently in Baghdad) called my mom two weeks ago and was really shaken up over something horrible that had happened. Winfield was upset because a man in his unit had started freaking out over the fact that he was in Iraq fighting in a war. He bugged so badly that the chief officers stripped him of his artillery and weapons. They classified him as a level 9 or some shit. I don’t remember what level it is when you go mentally insane. But that was the level that they classified him as.

The night before this kid was to be sent home, everyone else in the unit was sleeping in the barracks in order to get rest for the next day’s mission. My brother was woken up due to a loud noise echoing throughout the building. He immediately jumped up, along with the rest of his men, and ran to where the noise came from. When they reached the room, my brother was horrified to see the “Level 9” guy lying in a pool of his own blood. Apparently, this kid had saved one bullet before his equipment was taken away. He snagged one of the other troops’ guns and used the lone bullet to kill himself. My brother and his men were in charge of cleaning up the mess, despite the fact that they were witnesses to one of the most disturbing things any of them had ever seen.

When my brother spoke to my mom, it took all he had not to burst into tears with her on the phone. He gets 20-minute time slots to talk and there is usually a line out the door. He didn’t want to break down in front of his fellow men. Now, I don’t tell this story lightly at all. I just find it easier to disconnect with the emotions of what actually went down. I can’t even begin to imagine what my brother must have felt when he found the dead body. I don’t think my brother has actually seen a dead body before this whole thing happened. It makes my heart hurt and it makes my stomach turn to even conceptualize such a horrific event. Poor kid. I wish he could come home now.

Changing gears…

Paul and I had a very long talk last night about my date with Ahmad. He literally forced the information right out of me. I wasn’t going to tell him originally because the idea of hurting him deliberately in any way destroys my insides. But Paul and I have been together for a long time and he is able to pull things out of me, whether I want to talk about it or not. I told him everything. Well, almost everything. I didn’t tell him that my friend Joanna was the one that set me up on the date. I didn’t think that was fair to her. Paul handled it all with grace and dignity, as he usually does when he finds out that I am interested in another guy. He grilled me on different Ahmad related questions for about an hour and then he continued to make jokes about it for the rest of the night.

Paul is definitely jealous over the fact that I had a great time with Ahmad. I explained to him that if he would just step up to the plate and be a better boyfriend, or at least a much less neglectful boyfriend, I would drop Ahmad instantly and be with only him. He laughed my comment off and told me that he is still “not ready”. When I told him that I would continue to see Ahmad, Paul said “Maybe it is better that we both date other people for awhile”. Sure Paul. You go ahead and date other people. THE ONLY REASON I AM DOING THIS IS BECAUSE YOU DON’T PAY ANY ATTENTION TO ME. Gah! He will take it more seriously once I start to have real feelings for another guy. And at that point…at that point it will be way too late. I won’t love Paul anymore.

This morning when I got out of bed, Paul was already in the shower. I deliberately waited for him to finish, rather than joining him in the bathroom. When he came back to my room, he was all “I love you so much, I missed you while we were sleeping, I can’t wait to spend time with you tonight.” Barf. Why was he putting on this show? I gave him a brief and very un-passionate kiss on his way out of my apartment. Why does he do this? Why does he LOVE me one minute and DESPISE me the next? Why do I have so many mixed emotions about all of this?

I have to do what is best for me. And more importantly, I have to keep telling myself that it is ok that I am doing this. I am someone who is constantly carrying unnecessary guilt. Yet, no matter how much I tell myself that it is okay to do the things that I do, sometimes I can’t convince myself of it. When I saw the look in Paul’s eyes after I told him that I stayed over at Ahmad’s apartment, I thought I was going to vomit in misery. He looked crushed. I explained that I didn’t hook up with him, that there was no dick play. He handled it well, but that look...

God, I hate hurting people. Hate it hate it hate it!

So yesterday, as I am leaving my job, I see this incredibly attractive guy walking down the sidewalk toward me. At first glance I knew he was straight, so there was no reason to scope him out. However, as he approached me, he stared directly into my eyes and I did the same to him, even though I knew he was not sexually interested in me. (and I don’t know why not…I mean, even straight guys like to stick their dicks into a random tight hole sometimes, right?) As the guy and I passed each other, I saw him check me up and down and go “Tisk”.

I was like “Tisk”?

“Tisk?!?!”

Did this guy just give me the once over and then basically tell me that I wasn’t even close to his league of hotness? That’s exactly what it felt like. Like I was inferior. It was such a minor thing, but I have thought about that moment over and over and I wish I had said “Tisk” before he did. Or I wish I whipped out my cock and slapped him in the mouth with it. Don’t tell ME “Tisk”.

Fucking Tisk.

A tisket a tasket I should have shit on his face.

I’m dating a Muslim. I love saying that to people. There is this lady at work (keep in mind that I work for a Jewish agency) who is constantly eavesdropping on all of my personal phone conversations. Yesterday, when I was talking to Mariah about the previous evening’s adventures with Ahmad, she happened to be walking by my desk. Well, when I got off the phone, she came over to me and said:

Co-worker: “Are you dating someone other than Paul?”
Me: (GOD WHY DO YOU HAVE TO SPY ON ME ALWAYS!?!) “Actually, I did go out on a date last night. How ever did you know?”
Co-worker: “I always know, Joe. I pick up on these things.”
Me: (sigh) “Yeah, you are SO intuitive.”
CW: “So…what’s he like?”
Me: “He’s handsome and a gentleman and successful and treated me like gold. What else could I want?”
CW: “What did you guys do together?”
Me: (Well I took him back to my place and proceeded to fuck the shit out of him.) “Well, we went to this classy French restaurant and then back to his place for conversation and some wine.”
CW: “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh! Was it romantic?”
Me: “Incredibly.”
CW: “I am so happy for you!!”
Me: “Thank you, me too. You know, it’s weird…he is the first Muslim guy I have ever met, much less dated.”
CW: “WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA?????”
Me: “whaaa?”
CW: “He’s Muslim? I, uh…oh neat.”
Me: “Yeah, it is pretty neat.”
CW: “Um, I…(at this point I think she is pooping in her pants) what are you having for lunch?”
Me: “Probably something Muslim.”
CW: “AY YI YI!”

Ok, so the last two lines never happened. But wouldn’t it be funny if it did?
Yeah. Yeah it would have been. Oh well…too late to go back now and erase what I typed. Computers just don’t work that way.

It’s now 3:38pm. I can’t wait to get out of here. I want to curl up in a blanket and watch a movie. Maybe make some popcorn, snuggle up close to a Muslim. Yeah…now THAT sounds HOTT!

Rain, rain go away, cum in my face another day.

Um.

Gosh, okay, how do I start this?

Things have happened. Strange and spontaneous and wonderful things have happened.

Yesterday I sat here writing that I had no one to go out with. I debated going out by myself and as the day wore on I realized that it is so not in my style to do such a thing. As I said, I need my friends around to give me the confidence that I wouldn’t have if I were on my own. So, knowing this, I decided to email my friend Joanna to see what was going on with her.

About two weeks ago, Joanna and I went to a party that was incredibly fun. We met some new people and flaunted ourselves around the scene. In fact, I am pretty sure we owned the party since we had people coming up to us left and right. We met these two gay guys there and to be honest, I don’t even remember what their names were. However, after the party, they told their friend, Ahmad, about me. Supposedly they went on and on about how great and cool I was and that I would be perfect for him. A compatible match. A week or so after the party, Joanna mentioned to me that this “Ahmad” was interested in meeting me. At the time, I kinda let it drop and didn’t give it much thought. So yesterday, when I didn’t have any plans, I decided to ask Joanna about him.

With very little effort on my part, an email exchange began between Ahmad and myself. I found him to be charming and polite and I even detected a sense of humor, which is always a plus. After a few emails to each other, Ahmad and I decided to meet up for dinner. After work, I rushed home, showered, had two glasses of wine and prepared for the first blind date I have ever had. My friends told me that he was “dark” colored and that he was very successful in his line of work. I have to admit I was pretty nervous about the whole “dark” thing as I have never actually dated a black or Latino guy before. I decided I was up for anything as long as he turned out to be fun.

I showed up at the corner of 44th and Lexington around 7:30pm. I waited for about 5 minutes and suddenly, out of nowhere, Ahmad showed up. I was shocked! I mean…SHOCKED. He looked so handsome and dashing. He was wearing a very expensive looking pin stripe suit and he was carrying a briefcase. We exchanged quick hellos and then went to a very nice French restaurant. At dinner I was able to scope him out a bit better. He has the most beautiful brown eyes and his skin is flawless. Not a blemish anywhere. Not like my pizza face. Sike. No one I know has pizza face. I feel bad for pizza faces. pizza face pizza face.

Ahmad is 27 years old and is about 5”10. He says he weighs 175#, but I get the impression that he weighs a bit more than that. He has big and strong arms and his shoulders are solid slabs of beef. And we know that I like the beef. He has a great chest he totally outclassed me with his suit and overall exterior. I was incredibly nervous as we sat down to dinner. I found myself stumbling on my words. Sitting in front of me was a complete man and I have never felt so balanced by someone in my life. He took incredible care of me. He was polite and a gentleman and treated me like gold. Without being overbearing, Ahmad gave me quite a few sweet and kind compliments.

During dinner, which I ate none of, Ahmad and I talked about numerous things, ranging from religion (he’s Muslim, which I found incredibly intriguing) to jobs to family to our passions in life. I opened up immediately to him and found myself detailing the struggles that I go through on a daily basis. He listened to each and every word I said with interest. He opened up to me as well; talking about the loss of his grandfather, the fact that his family doesn’t know that he is gay, and about the fact that he has never truly been in love. As dinner progressed, I found myself wanting to be in his arms, laying there, being held and protected.

After dinner, Ahmad and I went back to my apartment to smoke a bowl. (yes he smokes pot, folks! He’s a keeper!) We blasted “Monster Ballads” (a collection of the best hair band songs from the early 90’s) and sang along to it together. At the end of “To Be With You” by Mr. Big, Ahmad asked if he could kiss me. I said, “please do” and he stood up, put his hands on my waist, I wrapped my arms around his neck and he gave me the softest and most tender kiss I think I have ever received. I get kind of shy in those situations, so I pulled away before it was necessary. I enjoyed the kiss, but I couldn’t stop thinking that I was cheating on my boyfriend. The reason I thought this was because I loved everything that was happening. I loved it too much.

Ahmad invited me to go back to his apartment in Queens. He lives by himself and despite the fact that he still hasn’t unpacked all of the boxes from his move, he wanted me there to talk to, to hold, to spend the night with. I packed my overnight bag and we took a cab to his place. Once in his apartment, I was blown away by the numerous pieces of art he had displayed on both the walls and his countertops. He is definitely an aficionado of fine things. The kid has worked hard to be where he is and I was proud that he wanted to share some of it with me. We smoked another bowl and watched a bit of an old James Bond movie. We discussed his future goals as well as mine and we kissed on and off throughout the rest of the evening.

At 2:30am, we both decided that it was time to go to bed. I slept in his college gym shirt and a pair of my boxers. He slept in just boxers. He does not have a 6-pak and thank goodness, cuz I don’t have one either and that’s always an awkward moment. If one guy has it, the other guy always feel like an ass. I guess it’s a gay thing. But looking at him half-naked, I began to sport the biggest hard on ever. While not huge, he is solid and strong and totally man. He asked if I wanted a massage and of course I said “yes”. His hands were like iron. Seriously this guy has the strength of a thousand men in those hands. I melted completely.

I didn’t have to do anything. He paid for dinner, he hailed all of the cabs, he opened doors for me, he made sure I was happy at every moment. And then did I ask him if he wanted a massage? No, I just took mine and loved it. hahaha. But it’s nice to be treated like gold sometimes. I fell asleep lying on his chest, his arm wrapped around my back. It was kind of a rough sleep, new environment and all. The last time I saw the clock, it was 3:30am. We were up again at 7am. Needless to say, I feel very worn out today. On top of getting no sleep, I was completely swept off my feet by a man. A MUSLIM man. Who would’ve ever thought?

When I got out of bed this morning, I found that he had gotten up a little earlier and ironed my clothes along with his suit. I mean, is this guy for real? He irons my clothes?? Gosh…he was pretty great. I showered and got ready and we commuted together this morning. As in typical gay style, he kissed me before we left his apartment so as not to get ourselves beat up on the way to work. It was a long and sweet kiss. To be honest, I am getting hard just thinking about it.

So that’s that! He has emailed me a couple of times this morning and it is pretty apparent that he is smitten.
I done good!

So we will wait and see. I did tell him about Paul, but I explained it as though Paul and I were pretty much over. Truth is, Paul and I are not over. Not by a long shot. Usually I would tell Paul about me going out and meeting other people. But this time, I’m going to hold it in for awhile. It will just upset him and I don’t see any reason to upset him unless it turns into something a lot more serious. I was very well behaved last night. I didn’t hook up with him at all. He simply kissed me a few times and treated me the way my current boyfriend should be treating me.

I’m still very much in love with Paul. But I am tired of having my heart broken daily. I am tired of not feeling special and I am tired of being with someone who is more concerned about their job and their friends then they are with me. I want a real man. A real man takes care of his woman. Or in this case, his gay. Ahmad showed me an incredible time last night and I am still reeling from it. I am very lucky to have met someone with such class and dignity; someone who, despite his intimidating financial status, is down to earth and real.

Man, what has happened?

Ok, ok, ok…I am back. SO SORRY TO HAVE SOME TIME TO MYSELF!

Sike, never. I wasn’t in work yesterday so I decided to take the day and do things that I like to do. Unfortunately, that didn’t involve being at the computer. But alas…now I am back where I belong. Sitting in front of a piece of shit PC, bored out of my mind, and literally counting the minutes until I can bust out of here at 5pm. Damn my life. And damn my vagina. I hate being a hermie.

Hermie = hermaphrodite.
Hermaphrodite = sadness

SO! Friday night! Hmmmmmmmm………..

After work on Friday, I jetted down to the SOHO area of NYC and met up with Mariah. She took me shopping for some new pants. I thought it best to make myself look as hot as possible, considering that I was going out to meet the man of my dreams. After an hour and a half of trying on different styles and sizes, I finally found the pair of my fantasies. Of course they were more money than I can afford, but at the same time, I needed them. Both for aesthetic reasons, as well as confidence reasons. None of these reasons need to be explained any further.
They’re just reasons.

Kelly and I rocked out at my apartment until about 10pm and then we went over to SBNY, otherwise known as Splash Bar, otherwise known as the place of all hotness. Since we got there pretty early, we sat at a table near the bar and talked for awhile. 3 vodka tonics later, and with my groove on, we went upstairs to do some dancing. Unfortunately, the crowd was a mix of the ugliest people I have seen in a very long time. Now, I have no problem with ugly people at all. In fact, I really like ugly people. They usually possess extremely witty senses of humor. (wow that came across so smarmy)(eh…appropriately smarmy) Kelly and I danced for about 10 minutes as I checked out the scene. To be frank, the scene consisted of losers and whores and I was really not interested in anyone. Kelly and I debated giving up and leaving. I was a bit crushed as I had my heart set on meeting the man of my dreams. Or at least the man of my evening. No such luck.

Before heading out, Kelly and I decided to get one more drink at the bar. We made our way through the crowd, pinching, clawing, and biting when necessary. Finally, we reached our destination and that is when I met HIM. THE man of the night. Thom. Wow…Thom. His beauty was absolutely stunning. He had a very masculine face and a body like I have never seen up close. I’m talking cuts, and ridges, and valleys of muscle that I didn’t know really existed. He had dark blondish hair, was at least 6”1 and weighed in at an estimated 210#. My kinda man! So, Kelly starts to talk to the bartender and he eats her up right away. They were talking and laughing and making everything totally comfortable for me. Kelly is really good at hooking me up with the men. Every guy I have dated has gone through Kelly in some way.

Thom and I talked for a couple of minutes and he served us our drinks. Kelly and I chilled at the bar and watched Thom run around and do his thing. Eventually he came back over to us and offered us some shots. We took them with him and he kept smiling and winking at me. When we had another moment together, this is the conversation we had:

Thom: So, are you from NYC?
Me: Yes. I live in Midtown right now.
Thom: What do you do for a living?
Me: I work for a university and am kind of like a glorified RA. It’s a fine job, but I am actually here to be an actor. One of the million.
(Thom bursts out laughing and points to a tatoo on his right shoulder. I take a closer look and see that he has the dramatic mask symbols emblazoned on his massive shoulder.)
(I smile back at him and continue to bat my eyes and try to look as cool as possible.)
Thom: Do you come to this bar a lot?
Me: Not nearly enough. This is where most of the hot guys go, so when I am in the mood, I try to sneak on over and catch what’s going on.
Thom: What do you think of the crowd tonight?
Me: Honestly, is there another night I should be coming here? Cuz most of the guys here tonight are busted. I don’t see one potential guy in the whole room.
Thom: Really?? Well tonight is the night that you would want to come here. You don’t see anyone that you like? Anyone at all?
Me: Well, from what I can see, the only guy I want to talk to is you. And I know better than to get mixed up with a bartender.
Thom: (laughs) Oh yeah? Why is that?
Me: (laughing as well) Why do you think? Come on man, no guy should ever spend his time at a bar falling for the bartender. It is a waste of effort.
Thom: It’s not necessarily a waste tonight. I think you are really cute. Probably one of the cutest guys in the place. So stick around a bit longer.
Me: Cool. I will.

Kelly and I talk and I explain to her that, although against my better judgement, I am falling quickly for Thom, the bartender. She is excited for me, but also reminds me of the “No bartender” rule. I agree with her and we decide that we want to leave pretty soon.

Thom: Did you guys want another shot?
(I glance at Kelly and she seems willing)
Me: Sure. What are we having?
Thom: It’s up to you. Whatever you want.
Me: (beginning to panic…what’s the cool shot to have??) Um…Maybe…I don’t…(well…I suck…and I have NO PERSONALITY!)
Kelly: Why don’t you make us your specialty shot?
Thom: Cool. Will do.
Me: Kelly, thank you for saving my ass.

Eventually Thom returns with our shots. We all clink glasses and down em.
Thom and Kelly talk for awhile and he asks her some questions about me. I was definitely peaking his interest. My stomach was tossing and turning with anticipatory excitement. This guy was fucking BEEYOOTIFULL. Eventually they turned their attention back to me.

Without going into even more unnecessary detail…Thom offered to give me his number, but I gave him mine instead. We talked for about another half-hour or so. He put his hand on my face numerous times and leaned in and kissed me twice. It was simple, yet sweet, and my god, the boner I was sporting was fucking huge. My hand barely covered the rock bicep of his upper arm. I wanted him and badly…

Eventually Kelly and I had to leave. Thom asked if I would be coming back the next night and I told him “no”. I started to want to marry him and Kelly had to drag me out of the bar. He mentioned to her that he thought I worried too much about everything. I guess I was being a bit overbearing toward the end. It’s just that I wanted to set a wedding date before I left that night. I mean, I knew that he was the man of my dreams and I didn’t want him to bail on the details of our big event. You know how it goes. Guys never want to help plan the celebration.

When we got outside, I begged Kelly to let me go back in and talk to him one more time. She said “never” and I am so glad she did. Rita always said that I have no game and she is right. When I get drunk and fall in “love” with a guy, it is almost impossible to pull me away from them. No. That’s an understatement. It IS impossible. I went home with Kelly and we had a good rest of our evening. I couldn’t stop talking about Thom. He was so beautiful and funny and sweet and exactly the kind of man, that after one night of knowing, I wanted to be with. Gosh.

Saturday, Thom didn’t call and I felt fine about it. I mean, he didn’t like me as much as I liked him. Or once again…never go for the bartender.

On Sunday, Kelly and I went to see X MEN 2. It was fucking awesome. Then, that night, Kelly went out to a dyke bar with a bunch of friends. Around 11:30pm, the phone rang and I thought it was Paul telling me what time he was coming over. I picked it up and heard a strange voice on the other end.

Me: Hello?
Strange voice: “Is this Joe?”
Me: Yes it is. Paul?
Strange voice: Hahaha. No, it’s Thom. Do you have a lot of different guys calling you?
Me: (FREAKING OUT!) Uh, yeah…you know. You were Friday night, Paul is tonight.
Thom: Hahaha. Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight. Maybe get a drink together?
Me: I would love to. Thanks for calling and asking. Unfortunately, I have to work in the morning and I am just about to crash for the evening. (Now I was pissed that Paul was on his way over)
Thom: Well that’s too bad. Maybe another time then?
Me: Definitely another time. Let me know.
Thom: Will do. Enjoy your rest.
Me: Thanks Thom. Talk to you soon.

And that was it! Um! He actually called! Damn! I must be like the hottest ticket in town! I get a bartender to call ME!?!? Sweet. That made me feel fucking excellent. I hope he calls again. Thom is definitely someone I would love to run my tongue down. Did I mention that he is 34? Well, yeah. He’s 34. So he is really only interested in me for sex, but that works fine for me. I will make that decision if it ever comes down to it. But what a high I am on!!!

I want so badly to go tonight too, but everyone is working. I am debating going by myself, but that’s risky. Paul and Mariah go out by themselves sometimes, but it’s just not my style. I need to have that friend in the corner that I can turn and run to if things get hairy. But then again, do I want to pass up a night meeting hot guys at Beige? Hmmm….I don’t know yet.

The weather outside is beautiful and I feel great! I want to enjoy it as much as possible. And Paul, well Paul…

Paul is great right now. We are getting along well and we are being very open and honest about the demise of our relationship. Not that it is over or anything…he just needs time to figure things out. He wants me to go out and have some fun and I am not about to sit around and wait for him any longer. If you know someone who is really great, gay, and overly masculine, send them my way. I am so ready to meet and get to know new guys.

It’s about fucking time.

FRIDAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! YEAH!

So excited about tonight. I am leaving immediately after work to go buy myself a new pair of pants and a shirt for tonight’s escapades into the city. Kelly and I have plans to go out to one Lesbian bar and one gay bar. We are both hoping to do it up to the extreme. I want to be WANTED tonight. I want guys all over me. I want drinks bought for me. I want to DANCE and I want to be kissed. Oh MAN I want so many things. I will not go home until all that I set out to accomplish is completed. Who knows? Maybe I will even bring someone home. (gasp!) Paul says that he is going to stay at my apartment tonight to make sure that I don’t bring anyone home. Funny, cuz he NEVER has EVER once stayed at my house on a Friday night. He’s just “too tired”. If he shows up tonight just to bust up my plans, he will be surprised when I make HIM leave and tell my boyfriend of the evening to stay.

In all honesty, I probably won’t bring anyone home. But I love knowing that I could. It’s like I forgot I could for so long. But now…now I feel strong and ready. I have had a great week and I want it to end with a BANG!
Bang = cum lovin.

sike. sorta sike!

Last night’s viewing of Urban Cowboy was just about the MOST fun. The boys were beautiful, the dancing was ON POINT, and the experience was totally memorable. The show wasn’t my most favorite of all time, but it was good. I am not a big country music fan and you would have to be to really get into the score. I thought the leads were a bit weak, but the chorus was so good that I found myself watching them even when the main characters were on stage. Overall, I feel so lucky to have been there. I had a blast. I wish I could have nights like last night every week. I felt so high profile with my “comp tickets”. Gosh, it was great. Paul and Mariah had a blast too. And did I mention that the guys were HOT?!?!?! SO HOT. Cowboys are fucking sexy. They pack themselves into denim in a way that I have never seen on a city boy. I saw (and loved) each and every cock package I saw. The bodies on these boys…who hoooooooo! Thank you Kambri Crews. Thank you thank you thank you and oh yeah thank you.

Time for the Filthy Friday Five!

Have you ever attempted, even once, to perform oral sex on yourself?

Yes of course. I swung my legs up and over my stomach and I tried in vain to stick that cock of mine in my mouth. It was very unsuccessful and I managed to do nothing but give myself horrible muscle cramps in my chest. It’s not like I have a small dick or anything. It just wouldn’t reach my slurping lips. Ok, sick. Magine I swallowed my OWN cum when I said I wouldn’t even swallow my boyfriends? sick again.

Tell us about your best sexual experience to date.

My best sexual experience was with a guy named Berry. Yeah, his name totally sucks, but his body and his sex appeal was fucking off the hook. He was the quarterback of his high school football team and he did some time in the military. He had red hair (the bad kind), but he was still so HOT! He and I hooked up off and on for a couple of years. (whenever I would visit home (Albany) during college breaks.) One time, I met up with him at our local gay club and he and I immediately fell into each other’s arms. I didn’t want to go back to his place after the club, but I wanted his dick in my mouth more than anything I had ever wanted in my mouth previous. He took me out to his land rover, which was sitting in our local park, and we climbed into the back seat. I sat on his lap while he kissed me and ran his hands all over my body for a very long time. Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore. I ripped his shirt off, exposing his amazing pecs and arms. I licked every inch of him and then worked my way down to his huge erection. To date, Berry had the most incredible dick I have ever been lucky enough to suck. Big and strong and virtually hair free. I sucked and sucked and sucked and he begged to suck me. I let him for like 5 minutes, but I really just wanted to finish him. (I had to get back to my friends at the club afterall) Eventually he finished and yes I did swallow that load. He, unlike most of the men I have been with, was deserving. So I drank it down. He held me with one arm around my back and the other exploring the rest of my body. I jerked off for a bit more and blew my load right onto that beautiful chest of his. I then cleaned up and went back to the club. I masturbated to that experience for the next couple of months. Berry was beautiful and if I had the chance to do it again, I would.

What physical characteristic turns you on more than anything in bed?

More than anything, I love big, strong arms. I love a guy who has biceps on him. I love to feel them, squeeze them, lick them, and have always wanted to put my dick in the elbow crevice of a bicep and forearm. Ever fucked an arm before? Probably not. But I imagine it would be so amazing. MMMMMMMMMM….maybe I can do THAT with someone tonight.

Body hair: what's your take on it, both your own or on your partner?

I am down the middle on this one. I like smooth or with a light trickle of hair. Too much of it grosses me out. And never back hair. But a nice, ripped up body, with a trickling of black chest hair…oof DAH! That is the stuff. Very manly and very sexy.

The scent of love: does your partner's own particular "funk" turn you on or off? What do you like to smell in the sack?

I LOVE the smell of cologne. If a guy has a nice fresh smelling cologne on (none of that old spice shit) I am immediately smitten. I love to breathe it in deep while we kiss. I love to suck on a nice neck that smells GOOD. I can also get down with the smell of “fresh gym workout”. Meaning…sweat. Manly sweat gets my cock hard in two seconds flat. I guess I have somewhat of an armpit fetish. But it has to be the right guy. I wouldn’t stick my face into the pit of someone nasty. That would make my fetish turn into a nightmare. As far as cum or “sex” smell is concerned…it (yet again) depends on the guy. Certain people’s funk is a turn on cuz it smells raw and animalistic. But some funk smells sour and that makes me gag and spew out bile. I guess I will have to let you all know after tonight.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Can you tell that I’m excited!?

ROCK!

I hope everyone has the kind of night that I hope to have. Here’s to all of us horny people!
I love how the filthy five is always on Friday. Gets me pumped up and ready for a night out in the clubs.

Be safe everyone.

Let’s make this a good one!

You're a playful lesbian! Life is all fun and
games, right?


What Kind of Lesbian Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla


Thanks to The Nord for this one!

I so need a new format for this site. I want a new template so badly. Everywhere I go, everyone has the same template as me and when I return to my own site, I want to puke all over it. I am so bored with it. It might be time for a change. As with the human body, the body of a journal should evolve as well. Body BODY body. Body.
Fucking body. Now I hate the word body. Bodybodybodybodybodybodybodybodybodybody. Not YOU hate the word body. Body.

After work yesterday, I ran over to meet up with Miss Kambri Crews to pick up the tickets for Urban Cowboy. When she came out of the elevator to greet me, my jaw hit the floor. I forgot what an absolute KNOCKOUT she is. My god! Seriously, I gagged on myself in pure intimidation. And why is it that she is so incredibly sweet and wonderful? Total package my friends. Totally total package.

The tickets she gave me are in the orchestra! I immediately went home and looked up the seats on the Urban Cowboy website and was shocked to find out where I am sitting. I tugged on my penis in pure joy. When Paul arrived at my pad, I explained that I had a “surprise” for him. He was like “Oh great”, cuz every surprise I give him is pretty lame. Sometimes it’s a candy bar, sometimes it’s a coupon for free french fries at Burger King, sometimes it’s a whack in the nuts. So when I pulled out the tickets to the show, he looked at me in pure shock.

“But how Joe? HOW? How did you get these? Did you buy them for us?”
“No Paul. I got them through my online journal. This really nice girl who works for the show was giving them out and I jumped at the chance.”
“Holy shit that’s great!”
“I KNOW! And you hated my journal up until now.”
“No, I still hate it.”
“Oh. Cool.”

After giving him the surprise tickets, I took us out to dinner at this place called DinerBar in Spanish Harlem. Paul peed in his pants from fear when he saw the neighborhood that the restaurant was in. I told him to walk fast and make no eye contact. Instead, he rips a huge fart in front of a group of ghetto dwellers. They immediately turned in our direction and I just picked up my pace, praying that we wouldn’t hear them call out to us. Luckily they didn’t.

The food at the restaurant was fucking amazing. Paul enjoyed himself thoroughly. We ordered two entrees as appetizers and then we ordered two entrees as entrees. The waitress looks me directly in the eye and says “Are you SERIOUS?” I look her back in the eye and go “Have you ever seen the face of serious? Cuz this is definitely it.” I think she got the point. One of our appetizers was their homemade macaroni and cheese with chicken cutlets in it. um!?! YUM! It is just about the best thing I have ever put in my mouth. Or rubbed on my chest for that matter. I could have bathed in it all night long.

When we were eating our entrée entrees, the chef walked over to us and in a VERY loud voice says:
“I need to meet the two gentlemen that are eating me out of house and home. I am VERY impressed with you two for eating all of this food. I’ve never seen anything like it. Are you going to finish it all?” At this point everyone in the restaurant is staring at us. I reply “No, actually I am getting pretty full now. I’m going to have to take it home, I think.” (I glance around at the rest of the customers and kind of half smile)(They stare blankly back at me) The chef responds “Then you’re a pussy!”

My jaw hits the floor.
A pussy?
um………………………………………………..A pussy?

I lower my head in “pussy” shame and Paul responds “I’m going to finish mine. Don’t you worry!”
I secretly kick Paul under the table while giving him and the staring crowd my most impressed and supportive look. “My boyfriend’s a fat hoss! I am so proud!” But at least he’s not a pussy. A FUCKING PUSSY? Come on now.

As we ate our dinner, we discussed our relationship problems a bit further. He was surprisingly supportive during our talk and was very open to suggestions as to how to improve our current situation. I explained again that I have a strong desire to go out and meet other guys, especially since he won’t be physical with me. He told me that while it hurts him to know that I am going to meet other men, it’s only fair that I be allowed to do what I want to do. He asked me to not hook up with anyone that wasn’t a bodybuilder. He understands that I want to be with a man like this at some point in my life and he respects that. He would not, however, respect me hooking up with just any guy off the street. I’m down with that. I don’t want to hook up with any guy off the street. I want to hook up with BIG. Thaz it.

Paul agreed to work on himself a bit more. He agreed to try and take a step back before judging me and my life. He agreed to delve deeper into himself to figure out what the problem is with him and sex. He also agreed to be more available to me and to not be as unnecessarily cruel as he has been over the last few months. He was a sweetheart last night and for the first time in a while I wanted to be with him and only him. The one thing I love about mine and Paul’s relationship is that it is based on honesty. There is no fear about holding anything back to spare each other’s feelings. There is no worry that one person will secretly cheat on the other. We are very vocal about what we want. We may fight a lot, but ultimately, everything gets said and then put to rest. I am very lucky to have him during this whole growing process. It’s hard to be 25 years old and in a committed 3 and a half year relationship. It’s hard for both of us for different reasons. But I never worry that we won’t do what is right for us, whether that means staying together or breaking up. Our relationship is a job that we are both committed to seeing all the way through.

A couple of weeks ago, I took some seeds out of my bag and put them in two of Paul’s plants.

Now, if you don’t know drug lingo, let me translate that for you:

A couple of weeks ago, I took some marijuana seeds out of my marijuana stash and put them in two of Paul’s plants.

Ok, that translation was totally unnecessary.

Pennyhow, I didn’t (lol pennyhow) tell Paul that I had put the seeds in there, thinking that nothing would happen anyway. Well, since Paul is Scientist/Gardener extraordinaire, the seeds have grown immensely. At first he was pissed that I just stuck old nasty Mary seeds in his beautiful Armarillas. But when I promised to take care of them on my own and to transplant them into a new pot, he agreed to go along with the process.

The day I met Paul, he was getting ready to go to court for having been busted with growing Marijuana plants. He was having a party and the cops broke it up and found him growing four plants in his closet. They had just bloomed too. Getting Marijuana plants to actually bud (the bud is the part you can smoke) is like impossible, but Paul did it. Gosh, he makes me so proud.

So my seeds are growing and fast! They are already 6 inches tall! They are pretty weak and Paul thinks they will die soon. He says that they definitely won’t bud, but they may spawn better seeds. So we will see. But how fun! My own little illegal project. I love myself.

YAY off to Broadway tonight. Two shows in one week. I am a SUPERSTAR.
But without the smelly pits.

Bodybodybodybodybodybodybodybodybodybodybodybodybodybodybodybodybodybody
Bodybodybobodybananafannafofadi. I had a friend named fadi once.

Ok, I’m done.

Spring has spa-RUNG dawgs!

Wow. I know it’s only been 24 hours since my last post, but what a day it has been!

So, last night was fucking amazing. I mean, last night was fucking HOO RAH amazing. It was the perfect start to a summer of gayness.

Here’s what I like to call “The Deelio”:

Kelly and I showed up at Beige around 10:30pm. We immediately secured ourselves a spot at the bar, which is an incredible feat in itself. We weren’t there for more than 10 minutes before the bar tender comes over and says, “A ‘friend’ of yours has bought you a drink”. I turn to Kelly and say, “Wellity, wellity, wellity…looks like we are going to have a very lucrative evening!” I then go to check in my coat at the…um…well…yeah the coat check. My turn comes in line and I realize that I went over there without any money. (Why do I embarrass myself at every possible occasion?) As I turn to walk back to my spot at the bar, I notice that Paul is talking to Kelly. He is with a girl I have never met, named Dierdra. I give him a quick peck on the cheek and turn to Kelly. “Fuck Kelly! Paul is here and we just got our drinks bought by a potentially hot guy”. Kelly smiles and says, “I know! Cept the potentially hot guy that bought the drinks is Paul.” “Nooooooooooooooooo!” I respond. And I thought that I was a stud or something.

My friend Will showed up a couple minutes later and we all hung out for awhile. Now, I don’t know if it’s the new pomade I am using or what, but I was getting more attention than the alcohol was. The boys were all over my shit. But the worst part about it was that I couldn’t enjoy any of it cuz Paul was standing next to me the entire time. At one point, he and I went to the bathroom and this guy in line (who was ba ba ba BUILT) was checking me out. When Paul entered the bathroom before me, I hung back and said hi to him. He smiled and we made polite conversation before I had to take my piss. I know that I could have had his number in two seconds flat if I was alone. Suddenly Paul comes out of the bathroom, walks right over to my new boyfriend and me and says, “He’s taken”. He then put his arm around my shoulder and pushed me into the bathroom. Paul had every right to do that had he not already pissed me off by treating me as his property all night.

He had his hands down my pants all evening. He kept putting his left hand in the back of my pants and kind of playing around in there. I asked him to stop and he refused to comply. Eventually I pulled his hand out, informed him that I am not his “property” and changed my place in our circle. He got offended and asked me what the problem was.

“The problem, Paul, is that you won’t even kiss me when we are alone. Yet you see me getting all of this attention and now you realize what you’ve got. You have your hands all over me only because you know I am going to meet someone else tonight.”
“Do you want to meet someone else tonight?” Paul asks.
“I WANT my boyfriend to make love to me and to treat me like a human being. But since that doesn’t seem to be sinking in to you, I am definitely going to do my best to meet someone else and get my sorry ass some physical affection.”
“Then you would be cheating on me. And I won’t stand for that.”
“Yes I AM going to cheat on you and you don’t have to stand for that. I am tired of this shit with you. I am a 25 year old guy that is very capable of meeting other attractive people.”
“Joe, you are MY boyfriend.”
“Paul…act like it then. Otherwise deal with the repercussions of being a neglectful boyfriend. I am not going to wait around for you to improve yourself in this relationship anymore. Either fix it or let me go.”

After that brief yet poignant conversation, Paul and I hung out for a bit more before making the trek home. I decided to stay at his place since he lives right around the corner from Beige. On the way home we began to debate our relationship again.

“Joe, you are not going to cheat on me. I’m serious.”
“Paul, figure out why you haven’t touched me in the last 4 months or yes I AM going to cheat on you. If you can’t handle that, then break up with me. I am in love with you and am not going to break up with you, but I refuse to deal with this shit any longer. I am absolutely exhausted by it.”
“If I wasn’t at the bar tonight, would you have met someone else?”
“I think it’s very apparent by the attention I got tonight that I would have met somebody else. Paul, you don’t own me and I’m tired of having low self-esteem because of you. You are slowly destroying every bit of confidence that I have worked so hard to build.”
“I have not. You have destroyed it yourself. You think you control this relationship. You think you make every decision regardless of how I feel.”
“Then make the decision to let me go. If you don’t want to be with me, then LET ME GO.”

At this point we began screaming at each other. We called each other every name in the book and our voices woke everybody in the apartment building.

Finally we calmed down.

“I am not doing this with you anymore Paul. I’m not. Either fix your shit or get out of this relationship. I know you moved to NYC for me. You have rubbed my face in it time and time again. But I am tired of living in a dead end relationship. I am tired of you not acting as though I am a priority. Basically, you have destroyed me.”
“You have destroyed me too. You have torn me down, you have made me feel ugly, you have hurt me irreparably.”
“Then we need to break up Paul. Who cares about the Bahamas vacation? Who cares about the plans for Memorial Day? Who cares about anything right now except for us being happy? And if being happy means that we have to be away from each other, then that is what we should do.”
“Do you want to just be friends for awhile?”
“Paul, we will never be friends. I have never been friends with anyone that I have dated and I have no plans to start with you. If you won’t put in the effort to fix this relationship, then I have nothing else to say to you. You have broken my heart time and time again and I don’t think that I want a friend like that.”
“That’s fucked up Joe! You are saying that you will never speak to me again?”
“That is exactly what I am saying. You don’t have any more chances Paul. I am warning you now. Fix this or let me go.”
“Fine. Let’s get something to eat and go to bed.”

And that’s what we did. We ate and went to bed. He did his best at kissing up to me and I wasn’t having it. I didn’t speak for the rest of the evening and I went to bed facing the wall. As we all know, I have had just about enough of Paul’s shit. I know he loves me, but I can’t hold his hand anymore. It’s not fair to me.

He held me all night long and when I woke up, he leaned over and kissed me. It was nice and it started my day off on a very positive note. If Paul puts in the effort, so will I. But I am going out on Friday night and I am planning on doing it up the way I want to do it up. I don’t have a boyfriend on Friday night. I will be open and honest with Paul about everything that happens, but I will not hold myself back any longer. I see no reason to stick this out with him if he won’t work at improving himself. We will see what happens…we will see if he can turn it around.

Overall I did have a wonderful time last night. I love Beige. It’s just about my favorite. The guys are fucking HOT(!) and they have a patio out back that is crowded with smokers. It is hella great.

Also, one other thing has happened today that is absolutely terrific! Ari alerted me this morning to news that
Kambri Crews was giving out free tickets to see Urban Cowboy. I wrote her an email and lo and behold, Paul and I will be going to see the show tomorrow night for free!!!!! I can’t believe it! He and I have been talking about the show for months and now we get the chance to actually see it. The guys in it are supposed to be HOT HOT HOT! Kelly and I were talking about the show last night. She went to a big, expensive dinner on Monday too and saw a bunch of numbers from various Broadway musicals. She loved Urban Cowboy and couldn’t stop talking about it. YAYAYAYAYAYAY! Paul is going to be so excited tonight when I tell him the news.

It’s my turn to take us out to dinner, so I have picked an incredible diner in Spanish Harlem. He will complain that it’s just a lowly diner as opposed to a five star restaurant, but once he tastes the food, he is sure to jizz all over the counter. We are supposed to “talk” about our relationship tonight. Imagine he breaks up with me and then I tell him “Too bad, cuz you could have seen Urban Cowboy for free!”

I hope things work out with us. I really do.

But I am thru begging and pleading with him. It’s time for hard ball. Shape up or ship the fuck out.

Wellity, wellity, wellity…

The dinner sucked my nuts. I hate smarmy people who have lots of money and don’t give a shit about anyone, but themselves. I hate people who think that they are higher class then me and in turn act like it at every opportunity. I hate people who shove into me and knock me to the side as though they don’t even notice me standing there. Our annual dinner was full of people who have more money than class. And for that, I drank my free wine and bolted before they even served the main course. Fucking assholes.

Some day, when I have lots of money, I am going to make sure that I am nothing but sweet and INTERESTED in WHO other people are, regardless of their ethnicity, culture, or economical status. I am going to introduce myself to people that seem like they have something to say. I am never going to stand around and silently judge everyone else. I am fond of having a big and sensitive heart and I am not going to let the amount of money I have get in the way of my kindness. I am not going to be condescending and rude in order to make myself feel more important. I will rely on my own achievements to exemplify my character. I am not going to treat other people the way that I hate being treated. Take your chicken dinner and shove it up your ass.

I think the moment that pissed me off the most was when one of my own co-workers snubbed me at the reception. I walked up to her to congratulate her on a job well done and in the middle of my compliment, she turned her back to me and walked away. It’s not as though she had someone or somewhere to walk to either. She just walked away. GOD. In the real world, this woman would get her face beat in. She is a leach, always trying to tag along with people who “matter” in order to make herself look and feel important. But when you have Rosacea on your face and you wear a read suit…let’s just say that it’s best that you don’t snub anyone, especially those that help you out (on a daily basis) in the workplace. Doris, you suck my dick.

I don’t know why I had such a problem with last night. During the event I remained very positive, laughing with Ari and a few others, joking about how I possess “no class” when I go to galas of any kind. I paid little to no attention to those around me and shoved my face with as many hor'doerves as possible. But when it came time for the main course, I found myself looking around at a room of people that could have cared less whether I showed up or not. I found myself supporting something that was based soley on financial status. And I didn’t like it one bit. I turned to Ari and told her I was leaving. I was bored and I was annoyed. I can’t stand rich people who don’t have an ounce of respect inside their fickle bodies.

I have had rich friends before and I have never felt as though I am any less of a person for the amount of money or social status I possess. Frankly, I feel better being who I am because I know I am real and that what comes out of my mouth is based on kindness and honesty. I don’t use people to my advantage and I don’t disrespect people because of who they are. My friends have always been the same way. But as I saw last night, it is a very naive world that I am living in. A world where celebrities and politicians are king. Those of you who are anything less better have a million dollars in your bank account or don’t even bother trying to open your mouth. You clearly have nothing interesting to say.

All in all I am glad that I went. I did get to eat some wonderful sushi and I downed at least 5 glasses of wine. The waiters were incredibly cute and I found myself trying to make eye contact and conversation with them at every moment. My boss paid for my cab home and Ari and I smoked a bowl before the whole thing went down. So there were good moments. It’s just that these moments were overshadowed by a room filled with a bunch of smarmy smarms.

Tonight I am off to Beige, one of the cities most respected gay bars. Brittany Spears and J. Timberlake have been known to frequent this place. But tonight I am going to have a drink with people who are in my league. I am going to scope out the other boys and be judged purely on my looks alone. That I can handle. My goal is to get at least one drink bought for me. Last time I was there, the fashion editor for Allure gave me his number. That was cool. Cept I don’t DO fashion editors. I do sports editors. You understand.

I feel so much better having bitched and moaned about all of the ridiculousness in the world. Now it’s time to go be with people just like me.

Ahhh…it feels good to go back to the real world.

BTW…the pants I wore fit perfectly. I worry for nothing. SLURP!

MAMMA MIA!
MAMMA MIA!
MAMMA MIA LET ME GO!

I saw Mamma Mia this weekend in the Winter Garden Theater. Same place that Cats used to be in. I must say, this show was just about the best thing I have seen in forever. The music is absolutely wonderful and the show, itself, proves to be the most uplifting and upbeat piece of theater out there. During a time when most of us can’t seem to put a smile on our face, Mamma Mia shows up and allows you to laugh and more importantly, be comfortable in laughing. I don’t want to go into too much detail about the performance because everyone should have a chance to see it firsthand. But if you are looking for a way to cheer yourself up or to end a bad week on a really good note, this show is the way to go. Gosh, I just loved it. (my mom bought me the soundtrack as soon as we left the theater)(I’m such a queen sometimes)

Had an absolutely incredible weekend. Went to a house party, a club, a Broadway Show, a famous restaurant for lunch, and basically had a smile on my face the whole time. Being able to see my mother on Saturday made my entire weekend. I rarely get to see her on Mother’s Day, but this year, I spent it with both my granny and my mom. Well, my dad was there too, but he’s not special until mid-June.

My granny is getting super old. On the outside she looks great, totally healthy and vibrant. She’s deaf-ish, but has been that way for as long as I can remember. But on this visit, I noticed that she was having a really difficult time walking. I’m talking so difficult - that because of her foot pain, she wasn’t able to see my apartment. Too many flights of stairs. It took us about a half an hour to walk four blocks. She was very positive during the entire trip, but at the same time I could tell that she was in pedestrian anguish. When we got to the theater, we quickly took our seats and my dad double checked to make sure that we were all in the appropriate places. I glanced at the seat numbers and assured him that we were. As the show is about ready to start, these two assholes show up and accuse us of sitting in their seats. My mom whips out our tickets and my granny starts in on my father about how he should have checked the seat numbers. The three of them stand up and the usher comes over to explain that we can’t just “move over one seat”. She wanted to see the tickets and since the show was just about to start, she was very aggressive and obnoxious.

My dad hands the usher bitch the tickets and while she is glancing them over, the couple starts complaining that they want to sit and look at the playbill before the show starts. “This is turning into the biggest hassle”, the woman said. Then don’t show up 34 seconds before the show starts you fucking asshole! Anyways…as the chaos peaks, my dad yells out in the middle of the Broadway Theater “I don’t know where the hell you want us to sit, but make a choice and stick with it!” Everyone in front of us turns around and glares at my father. I immediately bury my head in my hands and feel the embarrassment cover my face. There is murmuring in the crowd as to who the crazy man is in the back. I stand up, move over one seat, and tell my family to shut the fuck up. “Just ignore these assholes. It’s not your fault”, I say to my father. Finally it all got straightened out and when my dad and I were having a cigarette during intermission, I gave him a hug and told him that I was sorry that I had gotten the seat numbers wrong. He wasn’t angry with me…just frustrated with “three women bitching in his ear”. Fortunately the second act started without a hitch.

snores.

Tonight, my office is throwing their biggest event of the year. It’s an annual dinner that we hope will raise close to 2 million dollas! Basically the entire thing is fucking boresville, but there will be free champagne by the gallons and a free dinner as well. I plan to leave as soon as my plate is clean and right before the speeches start. I figure that I can be at Paul’s apartment before Mr. Personality starts. Yes, you read that correctly. I am bowing out of a million-dollar dinner before the speeches so that I can rush home to watch the lamest show on the planet. Don’t judge me. Don’t EVER judge me.

So Joanna and I went to a house party this weekend. Well, more like an apartment party. At first I was very skeptical of us going, cuz I hadn’t met anyone there before and Joanna and I are still new-ish friends. But…turns out that the party was AMAZING and I had the best time ever. The people were all doctor’s and lawyers and straight straight straight. So, as soon as I was done schmoozing and realizing that there was no chance of me ever landing myself a surgeon, we phoned up Mariah and took off for some gay fun. Gay it was. Well, that is if gay means fucking lame. Mariah and I hated the club we went to, so instead we went in and out of bars all over Times Square and then set off on a trek to find a 24-hour McDonalds. No such luck, but after wandering around for 45 minutes, I realized that earlier that day I had created my own special version of homemade macaroni and cheese. It was so fucking bomb that Mariah and I ate the entire batch in a matter of 6 minutes. I mean, we ATE and ATE and ATE. And then we fell asleep on my couch. But not before blaring Debbie Gibson’s Electric Youth album at speaker breaking volumes. It was the funnest.

Fuck you for thinking that I really use the word “funnest”..
Fuck you man.
Yeah.
yeah.

Just found out that there may be a donor giving us a 3 million-dollar gift tonight at our dinner. UM! That is so good for so many reasons. Most importantly being that raise time is coming in July and I am so in need of some cold hard cash. If the gift is announced at the dinner, there is no way that my boss can tell me that there is no money left for a substantial raise. heh heh heh! Oh please let us get this money…

I am wearing a suit jacket and tie tonight. Kind of excited about that. I never get to dress up. The only thing is that the pants I am wearing are getting pretty tight. I was sure that I wouldn’t fit into them this morning, cuz a month ago, I couldn’t. But when I tried them on this morning, guess who looked fucking fly in their slacks?!? Well, not me, but I was still able to get the button shut. When I told my parents that I might not be able to wear my nicest slacks cuz of fatness, they burst out laughing and explained that I shouldn’t have grown out of my pants at the age of 25. “But I’m not fat!”, I exclaimed. “Then you should be able to fit into your slacks”, my mom said. “Oh, then I’m fat”, I added. Cept I do in fact (in fat) fit into them now, so rock! It’s pretty disconcerting to grow out of clothes. Especially when summer is right around the corner and I want to be able to show off my hotness at the beach. Yeah right, like I ever go to the beach to show off hotness. I go for the hot dogs and burgers! Cuz I’m fat!

All right…time to go beat one in the bathroom. Hope I don’t get caught this time…

Work is too busy today to talk about much.

In which case, I will only be doing the FRIDAY FILTHY FIVE! I’m loving this shit. It gives me a chance to put my brain to rest and let my innards do the talking.

Have you ever experienced female ejaculation, either as a participant or an observer?

Not personally. Well, maybe. One time I fingered this girl and all this wetness came out, but I don’t know if that counts. HOWEVER, Kelly and I rented this movie once called “The Art of the Extended Orgasm”. In it, one woman lies on her back while another woman (wearing surgical gloves) manipulates her clit to the point of ejaculation. But to Kelly and my shock, the woman’s ejaculation wasn’t just cream. It was spurt after spurt of cum and it flew across the room, no less than 5 feet away. WE WERE SHOCKED AND I STILL CAN’T GET THE IMAGE OUT OF MY HEAD. So ladies, if you are not happy with the current load you are blowing, rent this flick and you can be shooting like a guy in no time!

Does male ejaculate turn you on? If you are a guy, does it/would it turn you on to cum on someone, and if you are a girl or a guy, does it turn you on to have a guy cum on you?

As a gay man, I should love to swim in cum. However, the taste, smell, and sight of it makes me want to vomit. After I ejaculate, I wipe off the cum or shower immediately. I really want nothing to do with it. Paul prefers to cum on me as it turns him on. I prefer to cum on no one as cum is from the inside of my body and I don’t do well with inside the body things. the end.

If you have tasted cum, please liken its flavor to something.

If the guy is deserving, I have been known to swallow. Yet, most guys are not deserving and that’s when I either spit it onto their stomach or run across the room and spit it into the garbage can. I cannot stand the taste of cum. I will wretch and puke immediately if I don’t pretend as though I am tasting something other than jism. If I had to liken this nastiness to something, I would liken it to bloody boogers on bread. With a side of throat coat.

Anal intercourse, yes or no? Have you tried it? Good? Bad?

At 25 years old, I have yet to have anal intercourse. Paul and I have been together for 3 years and 4 months and we have yet to dive into this aspect of our relationship. At this point, we both want it to be “special” and we are waiting for that “special” time. Most people tell me just to “DO IT(!)” already. But clearly I’m not ready. It will happen. Just not sure when yet. I think we are close to doing it. Last night I was jamming my erection into his ass crack while he laughed and tried to escape. (escape? ESCAPE?!!? escape.) Sometimes I just want to grind my dick into any surface. It just feels so good!

What is the most socially taboo thing you will admit to being turned on by?

There is very little that I am turned on by. But at the same time, that which turns me on, gets me going to the point of combustion! As we know I like huge muscles. I also get turned on by men’s cologne, sweat, gym equipment, suits, cop/fireman uniforms, and scruff. Anything that exudes masculinity gets my cock blood boiling! I like my men big and powerful, confident bordering on arrogant. None of this is really taboo, but it can be if you choose to have a conversation about it at the local synagogue or cathedral. If my granny was here right now, the last thing we would talk about would be anal penetration and cum loads. But that again, she does have a third nipple, so she might be open to discussing tits and cunts. Who knows…

My answers are really suck today. I am just way too busy at work to expound further.

Have a FUCKING GREAT weekend everyone!

Keep in mind…it’s the lusty month of May!

First and foremost, I have to take back some false information that I posted on here a couple days ago. Luther Vandross is NOT dead. Someone at work told me he was and I immediately posted the sad news on this site. But after a week with no news about the event, I did some researching. Luther Vandross is still in rough shape, but he is alive. I apologize for posting incorrect information. Stupid Joe. Stupid, stupid cunnilingus stupid.

If you are not watching DZO on Sorority Life or their Brother Fraternity (Sigma Chi somethin or other) on Fraternity Life, then you don’t know what you are missing. I am a sucker for MTV reality TV. They are the original and the best. (Do I even have to say it again?) Last night, I was lucky enough to catch the new episodes as they premiered - rather than sitting around all Saturday afternoon catching up on my missed moments. The shows are essentially Lois Lame, but I am nevertheless addicted. Especially because the shows take place at the University of Buffalo, which is 2 and a half hours from where I went to college. It’s weird watching these kids, cuz I feel as though it’s a complete flashback to my college. You know…the nails on a chalkboard accents, the keg parties, the late night drives, eating lunch in the Union…if you were ever wondering where Joe CuttheShit went to college, tune in to MTV on Wednesday nights at 10pm. These boners make me feel all nostalgic and shit. Ah…the dayz.

A week from Saturday, I am going to The Quiet Party. Joanna and I discovered this party when we were playing on Craig’s List. The premise of the party is simple. There will be no loud music and no craziness. No screaming and no yelling. From what I imagine, there will be candles lit and light jazz playing on the corner jukebox. A place where singles can meet and get to know each other without having to scream over the top of unnecessarily loud speakers. In the back room (and this is the best part), there is no talking AT ALL! It is a silent room where you can only talk to other people via paper and pencil. If you have something you want to say to the girl sitting across the room, you must write her a note on a piece of paper and pass it along to her. If you want to buy a good-looking guy a drink (me!), you write that offer on a piece of paper and pass it to me. Fun, right?!?! Joanna is excited to meet some interesting single guys and I think that this would be a great opportunity for her. I also invited Ari as I think she could benefit from a night out with good people and mature men. No psychos allowed. I anticipate it being a very good time. As long as I can keep my mouth shut for more than 5 minutes.

Tidbits of Today:

-I have taken a literal shit every half-hour since 8am. This means that I have shit 7 times so far today. 7 times sitting on the toilet and 7 times wiping my asshole raw.
-I ate an “Odwalla” bar and absolutely hated it.
-I spent 20 minutes looking at muscle pictures when I got to work. Making sure to minimize the screen when the housekeeper emptied my garbage can.
-After leaving Ari’s apartment last night, I ate a huge cheeseburger and French fry dinner. It tasted so damn good, but wasn’t totally fulfilling. When Paul showed up at my apartment an hour later, I faked that I hadn’t eaten all day and he ordered me a sandwich from Subway. I ate that too. (ahhh…is this the reason for my chronic shitting?)
-My hair is so spikey that it breaks the sound barrier. Sound barrier? Yeah, sound barrier.
-I almost got caught masturbating in the bathroom.
-I have a nugget of pot in my cigarette pack for when I go to Paul’s apartment later.
-Am eating pizza for lunch because I am sick and tired of eating fruit every day. I need a break from all this healthy nonsense.
-I put on both deodorant and AXE Body Spray and still reek of sour BO.
-Tried to buy my mom a Teddy Bear from “Vermont Teddy Bear Company”, but found out that they were $100 each. Then decided to make her a teddy bear card.
-Bit off one of my fingernails, which caused a hangnail to form, after which, I ripped out the hanger and now have blood dripping down my right ring finger.
-Smelled fart in our supply room at work and in turn made sure to blame it on anyone and everyone around me. I didn’t lay the fart bomb, but wasn’t at all willing to take the silent blame for it either.
-Realized that by writing these “Tidbits” I have made myself sound like the most stank, disgusting boy on the planet.

In other news…

Nell Carter is still dead.

The agency that I auditioned for last week still hasn’t called me. I guess they didn’t like my thank you note that much. For the first couple days of this week, I would run up the stairs to my apartment, burst through the door, and look at the answering machine with hopeful eyes. As of yesterday, I just gave up. Fuck them. If they don’t want my hot ass then I certainly don’t want their snores filled asses. It was a good first start. Now I must find a new agency to audition for next week and then another and another and another. yeah. YEAH!
But then again, maybe they will call me tonight…pwease?

pwease and carrots?

Because I am a broke bitch, I won’t be able to see Justin Timberlake and Christina Aguilera’s tour this summer. I mean, it’s the hot ticket of the year. Everyone who is anyone loves Justin and Christina. I hear all this talk about Radiohead and Ben Harper and Jack Johnson and I think, “Sure these people are wonderfully talented, but they aren’t Justin”. No one is. Not even Justin.

Oh great! I have to poop again! What IS this?!?! Did I eat a bowl of dysentery last night? I mean, fucking for real. I am going to have permanent creases on my ass from sitting on the bowl all day.

Alright, outtie.

Peace out my little ghoulies.

If it’s broke, you can always fix it!

Okay…so I will be the first to admit it. I make a big deal out of nothing. I can be overly dramatic, I can blow things out of proportion and I definitely take everything way too personally. I have been this way for as long as I can remember and changing it seems about impossible. The reason I am writing all of this is because last night I had a wonderful evening with Paul. Oops.

I have this problem of opening up and laying all of my shit on the table with both my friends and this journal whenever anything goes wrong. Or at least when I start to get deeply upset about the problems I am facing. Over the last 72 hours I have broken up with Paul in my head a number of different ways. In one such fantasy, I arrive at his house, enter via the keys he made me, grab all of my shit, stuff it in my backpack, and finally turn to tell him that “It’s over. Once and for all.” Thank God there is a part of me that calms me down and forces me to get advice from my friends and family. If I didn’t do that and I acted completely on impulse, I would be sitting here most likely regretting my hasty decision.

Paul called me at work yesterday. He was very sweet on the phone and when I informed him of my plans for the evening, he asked me to break them. He wanted to see me. Against my better judgement, I obliged and told him that I could be at his pad by 6pm. When I arrived at his front door, he was nowhere to be found. I let myself in and walked to his bedroom. When I opened the door, there was nothing but a pile of blankets. I immediately ripped off the pile in one fell swoop and exposed my naked boyfriend. He screamed and started hysterically laughing. The sound of his joy was so contagious, that I immediately forgot why I was angry and jumped on top of him. We wrestled for a bit, laughing and pinching and acting as though our relationship was based completely on shits and giggles.

After we calmed down a bit, we started talking about anything and everything. I had decided before arriving at his place that I wasn’t going to bring up the problems of our relationship. I was just going to have a good night with him and encourage him to talk to Mariah. This plan worked for the first hour we were together, but out of nowhere, we began arguing over something stupid. Having debated breaking up with him in my head over the last couple of days, I felt all of the anger, hurt, and frustration fly back into me. I told him that we were headed down a path of destruction and that if things didn’t change soon, we would be forced to go our separate ways.

It was at this moment that I realized that I am “overly dramatic, blowing things out of proportion, and taking things way to personally”. Paul stared at me blankly. He asked “So, you want to break up?” I explained that I didn’t want to “break up”, that that was the farthest thing from my mind. I told him how deeply in love with him that I am. But then I hit him with the reality that we might be better off as people if we took a break from each other. I suggested that maybe we should take a month off from seeing one another, just to get perspective. The look of horror on his face said it all. “But Joe, you are the only one I want to see. If I can’t see you, I don’t want to see anyone.”

My heart melted.

I told Paul that I simply was not happy with our relationship. I explained that I am not comfortable with the way he talks to me, that he can be condescending and cruel. As I continued to explain my position, he got very defensive. We decided to drop the talk altogether and go to dinner.

Once we had arrived at probably the worst restaurant either of us have ever been to (the food was fucking nast), Paul brought up our Bahamas vacation. I informed him that I had talked to my mother and that there were ways out of the trip. Once he saw that I was serious, his entire demeanor changed. We discussed at great length about the way we treat each other. He was verbal with me and open about how he perceives me in the relationship. Going into the conversation, I was just as closed minded about my wrong doings, as he has been in the past. I found the anger building in me when he was laying all of our issues on the table. I bit my tongue and I sat there and gave him a chance to speak his mind. Fortunately, it was the smartest thing I could have done.

Once Paul explained himself, I felt a release of all of the pressure that had been building up inside of me for the last week. We then had the most productive conversation that we have had in the longest time. It’s funny how everything can change in the matter of minutes. He became this beautiful boy again and not the monster that I had been envisioning. When he reached across the table to touch my hand at a delicate point of the conversation, I knew that I had lost the battle again. We would not be breaking up. We would be giving our relationship yet another chance.

The one thing that I was not flexible on was our lack of intimacy. He tried to explain to me why he doesn’t want to be physical and it made some sense. SOME sense. I still feel as though there is no excuse for using sex as a weapon in a relationship and I explained that to him in great detail. I also told him of my fear of us never actually having intercourse, as we can’t even kiss on the lips these days. He then did a typical Paul thing and said, “Let’s have sex (anal sex) tonight!” I burst out laughing and told him “Never”. Because Paul can sometimes be a clueless moron about things, he made me discuss why it wasn’t normal for us to have anal sex for the first time when we don’t even suck each other’s dicks anymore. Eventually he backed down and agreed to start working on our physicality.

By the end of dinner, we were back in love and ready to grow. We laughed all the way home and when we got back into his apartment, he turned to me, kissed me on the cheek and said “I love you Joe”. THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED. To feel appreciated, to feel loved, and to feel wanted. All of the things that any guy would need to get from his boyfriend.

I have learned quite a few lessons over the last couple of days. Mostly about how I am as a boyfriend. I am lucky to be surrounded by people who care about me and love me so much that they want nothing more than for me to be happy. Although Paul and I exist within the same group of friends (a very dangerous thing I might add), we are both blessed to have surrounded ourselves with people who don’t take sides except when needed. They are objective and understanding. They are a true support system. Engineered and designed specifically for nut cases like Paul and I.

I know it seems like I “deserve better” and that may be true. But until I fall out of love with this guy there is no hope of me ever moving on without him. His happiness is my happiness. I don’t like to give up on anything. Especially not something like this. If it takes more work, I am willing to put it in. We could have the opportunity to achieve emotional levels with each other that I never thought was possible before. I don’t want to lose him or give up on him until I am sure that we have hit our plateau.

I need to keep in mind that Paul struggles with his own issues too. I am not the only one in this relationship who is suffering from the trials of life. My mom told me yesterday that I need to make sure that I am not projecting my current misery on him. He is not the answer to all of my problems. Yet it is so easy to sit in here and write about how badly he treats me, when I really should be sitting here focusing on fixing my own shit. I need to be there for Paul just as I want him to be here for me. I am not the center of the universe. I am just a star. Ok, that was a lame ass analogy, but you get the idea.

Thanks for putting up with my struggles over the last couple of days. If I didn’t have this journal here to release everything that is in my head, I would certainly make some irreparable decisions.

Starting this thing up was the best idea Rita ever gave to me.