On a certain West Side club in Chelsea

I was dragged…as in forced to go honey not as in wearing drag okay. Please 

don’t read into things dearie that is my job. Anyway I was hauled off by a friend to 

visit a sex club. you know the type of place. you arrive at a sleazy entry and pay for 

a temporary ‘membership. Then you go through a door where some guy hands 

you a white towel. You are then directed off to a side area where there is a locker 

room and shower. You leave your clothes in the locker and, draped in said towel, 

you cruise through dark hallways searching for...need we go on. Let us say a tour 

through the room’s occupants and their activities are a veritable sexual classroom in 

understanding the true meaning of  the term ‘alternative lifestyles’. 

Now do not get me wrong I am not condemning these places. I’m quite frisky 

myself and always willing to give anything a try within limits, as any bathroom wall review will attest.

(BTW: what have you  heard about me?). 

In fact ogling such activities is really quite innocent fun provided one has a broadly vague definition of said word ‘fun’. Think of looking into each room like window-shopping . You see what the newest trend is for when you do your own serious shopping later. After all it is always about the accessorizing isn’t it? As long as you don’t bump into anyone you know voyeurism can be a lark. 

But soon the magic fades for there is just so much one can  visually process no 

matter how good the performances being seen. At that point it is advisable leave the 

scenes and simply taking with you the knowledge that you are somewhat wiser and, probably a bit overheated as well, by the experiences you witnessed. 

Before you inquire &, since I brought up ‘overheated’, no I did not use their shower. You 

don’t use a shower at these places to actually shower for God’s sake! That is NOT their 

purpose. Dear you are naive if you thought that! May I suggest that you check out more adult DVD’s in the future to understand the proper use for a shower in such locales. 

As I left, I met the owner on the way out who tried to interest me in acquiring a 

permanent membership. I handed him my towel and told him that quite frankly I’d 

never join a social gathering where the only article of wear permitted on the premises 

was a white towel. I mean darling, wearing white after Labor Day...as if!

A view on conducting "foreign affairs" *wink*

I had lunch with Russell Chatsworth Davenport Tradehorn III or, as I referred to 

him when we were a couple, my Rusty Trade. Quite a mouthful huh.  

He’s British of course.  The name gives it away? I often wondered if British names 

got longer as their empire got shorter. Interesting topic for an intellectual discussion 

on the theoretical overcompensation of former colonial powers in relation to naming 

their male citizens. But again why digress on such weighty matters. I mean if you 

want intelligence why are you here reading this? 

Now where was I. Oh yes Rusty. If one had any doubt of his Englishness one need 

only listen as he waxed lyrical on British food especially a dish called “Chip Butte”(no 

I won’t use a  wisecrack here for some things just speak for themselves don’t you think). 

Now we, as in everyone who is NOT English, are all aware of the horrors of their home 

cooking. 

(Hello the Crusaders brought spices back with them in1100A. D. So let’s try using 

some honey!) 

But Rusty loved his Butte and I loved his cute...er...well why use the same 

sounding word thrice in a sentence right. Anyway, so off I’d go with him to explore 

the culinary worlds of down home English style fare. Ah the English; ah my poor taste 

buds! But we are not conducting a special on food so onto my point. 

Foreign affairs: 

Everyone should have at least one. There are some that insist a smoldering Latin 

American man is sex personified though frankly my experience with a Brazilian left 

me cool. Those boys are, to put it succinctly, somewhat oversold on campus. The one 

I met kept insisting he had a girlfriend and was shocked when I didn’t claim likewise. 

In the end however let us say that  “smoldering” was the only thing he could do. No 

flair or imagination. It must be in the blood because my friends who’ve tried the same 

nationality report similar results. 

Scandinavians are, sorry guys, a one trick pony. I chalk it up to this being probably 

due to the cold climate up there. After all, it’s freezing in those countries so you have 

only scant time to enjoy being nude. Their national motto must be: it is best to get 

in and out fast! 

As for the French let us be honest. Even when it is just the two of you in bed their 

inflated egos make it  a constant ménage à trois.  Italians, well being one myself it 

would be too much like incest to date one. Besides half the fun of being of  Italian 

descent is tossing guilt around to get your way. No fun getting it tossed back. A true 

recipe for stalemate.  

Germans I will admit have a certain flair for uniforms and leather but how many 

times  can one play Poland  for them! If they are Russian they insist you be every Baltic 

state! 

My point is:

The British my dear are the great hidden secret of the gay world. That cool look. 

A genetic pool in its final flower. All pale skin and liquid eyes.  Orlando Bloom and 

Hugh Jackman (a gay fantasy porno name if ever I heard one) come to mind. yes the 

later is Australian & not technically a Brit but come on genetically he is really just a 

Brit who lives elsewhere. 

Lastly, that  English accent! Ah sex with an accented lover that  you can not only  

understand but also create fantasies around. Picture “Masterpiece Theater” with you 

in an ever-changing role-play of ingénue scenes from those old movies. 

Show me a gay boy who doesn’t love role-playing, old movies or, creating 

dramatic diva  ‘scenes’ and I’ll show you boy in need of enrollment in a class on remedial 

homosexuality. 

So, as I just said, think of the roles you can assume in sex play with that British 

buck:  the vile lord of the manner with you as the heroic serf defending your honor 

in vain( I always lost my honor*wink*) or   the young traveler waylaid ( see how hot 

English words are!!) by the crazed  highwayman who performs on you a variety of 

unspeakable acts(we’ll speak of them later in private I promise)! Ah the  fantasy joys 

which only hearing a British accent can stimulate! 

So, next time you feel a bit frisky go for that Cockney. Imagine a country that 

christens a dish after a man named Chip’s rear or labels one of its accents for a part of 

male anatomy (see the first line in this paragraph honey if you didn’t get that reference 

by now). Enough said. 

Not easy to blog

Or maybe its just not easy if you do not want to come across as saying nothing of value.

Query: Is blogging a "Dear Diary" thing where one emotes a stream of consciousness" or a cyber way to affect readers so they "think"?

 I confess I usually do my "go to" of humor in blogging. not deep mainly amusing {one hopes}. Then one day you come across a blogger who is so raw and intimate in his prose; who just blows your imagination open and explodes multi-contemplations into your mind!

Well THAT is so intimidating you fear to type anything of your own.

Still, every court needs a jester right:). :)

Yoga blues

Yoga:

I know CTB’s blog  {see his site below in another post} talked about doing it and one or two blog followers asked me if I ever engaged in it. The simple answer is yes, I did a few lessons in yoga. Unfortunately, instead of discovering my inner “bliss” I soon discovered my inner painful “sciatica”.

 To be fair my attitude wasn’t the most “zen-like”.  One lesson involved some complex rope tying coupled with the downward dog position. I told the instructor if I was going to do rope bondage coupled with a downward dog position then he sure as hell better make sure there was a “happy ending”. Then there was my proclivity to always  buddy up for some yoga intertwining maneuvering with this hot guy in the class. Let's say "zen" was not on my mind and it showed. Soon my instructor and I both realized I was not long for his classes.

No slam on yoga its simply that yoga and I are destined never to share a blissful intimacy. Not that I cannot appreciate a cute guy all curled up into yoga's rather hot positions. Rather for me I fear, yoga will remain a spectator sport.

Seasons greetings

In the spirit of the times I always send Christmas cards to my enemies. What’s more, I take the time to send my own personal message of holiday wishes in each card I send to them. This time off I went and brought a nice set of blank seasonal cards to mail off to them to mark the holiday. 

Yes even an enemy or one who has "done me dirt" gets a seasonal greeting. I take the high road for, after all, tis the season. I fully imbibe the holiday spirits and ignore all the unkind cutting things they did to me during this year. 

So, I took a pen to card and, with a heart filled with good wishes, inscribed away to say tenderly & with heartfelt emotion:

Because tis the Christmas season
I send you my hope you are well
But after the 25 th has truly gone
You still suck; so go to hell!

Do that too and the joy of the season will warm you as you go buy that tree or present!

A blog to read that I recc.

http://christiantbailey.blogspot.com/

I find his posts always interesting and provocative. You always are left thinking about what was posted and, with a few of them, fanning away some bad boy ideas :).

His approach to blogging its different than mine in some regards { I tend to favor the humorous postings } but honestly, a blog that makes you think should NEVER be missed. Go check him out.

Musings on Black Friday, Cyber monday, Get-outta-my-way holiday shopping.

Some people will never understand the nuance of shopping. Well to be truthful 

I don’t understand people who don’t understand it. Too many people (translation: 

straight men) just think of shopping as simply “see it and buy it”. What’s up with that! 

It completely misses the whole Zen experience of acquisition. True shopping is a 

voyage of the imagination coupled with the thrill of the hunt. Acquiring the perfect 

non-essential at the perfect price. Let’s face it 95% of the stuff we buy is completely 

unnecessary, not that this should affect us in anyway. In fact that is what makes it so 

extraordinarily arousing emotionally i.e. because in the end we need not have to do 

this endeavor to survive in life so, we need not stress out doing. Thus, we can just 

enjoy the experiences! 

By now you are either with me on this or thinking, ‘wow does he need a life’! To you 

naysayers I say please just read on you’ll get it. 

My point is that since, in the end, most of our shopping is really unnecessary to 

live we can go surrender to the joy of how it stimulates one’s emotions in a non drug 

induced way. Unless you naysayers object to non-drug induced stimuli. Still opposing 

me now hmm? Got ya huh! 

Here is the simple logic of how it works: 

As we shop, our minds picture that thing in our possession. We generate images 

of how we will look in it or how we will interact with it. Those created vision send 

our pleasure centers the signal that they can release those delightful endorphins 

everyone is always talking about when we engage in fantastic sex. Think of shopping 

then like great sex without the need to shower later! 

But there is also much more to this escapade. In times of trouble a store is that 

warm place we can retreat to .It is like slipping into the embrace of one’s accepting 

parent. In a world of religious bigotry it is our spiritual temple of pure acceptance. We 

shop. We dream again. All is well! 

And if the item’s acquired at a bargain price we’ve reached the Holy Grail. Come 

on, tell me you haven’t gotten a tingle when you buy on sale that oh so unnecessary 

item that you dreamt of having. I thought so. But in this activity one must remember 

to think big at the bargain table. Set your gaze into the larger world of saving to really 

get that roller coaster ride’s thrust of arousal. Don’t just save. Save on a grand scale! 

Arousal/thrust...keeping recalling...great sex...its like great sex...got it now? 

Case in point, I once brought a 5-quart blender. Now I did not NEED a 5-quart 

blender as the two quarts was perfectly adequate. However the point was that the 

5-quart was on sale and I saved $74 by getting the larger size. Now I then went to 

another store and brought clothes for a total of $80. In reality if one offsets that $74  

savings amount from the blender then its clear to anyone that I acquired all those 

clothes for just SIX DOLLARS. If you cannot follow this try rereading this paragraph 

again. If you are still unsure well honey I bet you were one of those kids in grammar school who always screwed up that old math question about those two trains leaving some station at the same time etc. huh? Don’t fret that school aged trauma anymore sweetie just go shop until you feel better. 

Final point: 

By shopping you are keeping the world economy afloat. Read your newspapers 

if you don’t believe me. You are not buying that dreamy shirt and pants to satisfy 

some spoiled craving. You are engaged in the selfless act of sending out your money 

into that great pool of currency that will later be used for creation of jobs to employ the 

less fortunate.  You are contributing to our country's place as the engine in the world economy. Thrusting back the forces of recession. Fighting to keep America strong and thus spreading the struggle for democracy worldwide. Tell any who says otherwise that they are nothing more than a commie! 

So, the next time you are tempted to drop a dime into some bucket or hand it over to  

some street person you might want to reconsider and buy that new CD instead. Buy 

something, create jobs and, contribute to a higher good  honey! Walk past that poor 

street person with head held high straight into Macy’s and do your patriotic duty and 

knowing you are keeping the world economy And the struggle for freedom strong!