A year off and a lifetime ahead...: April 2007

As promised pictures to come...keep checking back!

Two meditations and themes for the next couple entries. In essence, three weeks of notes turned into pages and pages of rhetoric that to me seem irrelevant and shallow. But that’s kind of how the last couple weeks have felt for me.

I’m finding myself at a cross roads in life and I feel like it will take being hit by a bus to get pushed forward. A state of complacency, while nice, is no place to be as there’s never a sense of growth. Going through the motions and losing all my drive, at times it feels like I want to find new meaning in being alive.

The first meditation I’ve been focusing on comes from the song “Who Knew” by P!nk. I’ve always enjoyed her music. The past couple albums from her have been really awesome and actually carry meaningful messages in the lyrics. It’s great that she’s managed to stay popular while singing songs that people can actually think about. As a great example, check out her music video for “Stupid Girls,” a social commentary on everything wrong with pop-culture in this country.

Anyway, a blurb from her song Who Knew …

If someone said three years from now
You’d be long gone
I’d stand up and punch them out
Cause they’re all wrong
I know better
Cause you said forever
And ever
but, who knew.

When someone said count your blessings now before they’re long gone
I guess I just didn’t know how
I was all wrong
They knew better

Does anybody else keep everything that could even potentially become a memory? I’m a pack rat. I think I save everything that could ever be used again. I don’t know why … growing up with grandparents from the depression era … not wanting to be wasteful … so many possible issues. The point is I have a problem and I’m getting help for it. Justin and I had a decluttering expert come to our apartment. She said I had the second most clothing of any male she’s encountered, the most underwear for a male, and hands down the most “product” for one person she’s ever seen in her life let alone in her years of being an “expert in decluttery.” If you’re in NYC or LA you need to check her out if you have this issue. Worth every penny at rates that even make my jaw drop.

She helped me … wow tangent. OK I’m back. I save everything including old calendars and planners. Hell I have my first assignment book/agenda from my first year of undergrad. Three years ago I would never have guessed I would be on a plane getting served a warm cookie on my way to DC sending champagne back to my roommate. Three years ago I never could have imagined I would be as happy with life as I am. Three years ago, I was still speaking to my best friend while we planned our schedules for the next quarter and then our summer plans together. We were inseparable and I haven’t spoken to her in two years now. Why? I couldn’t even remember at that point and neither did she.

We reconnected over the past week. She’s doing well and we had lunch which turned into dinner at the same restaurant. It was the anti “Will and Grace” series finale reunion. In that episode, Will and Grace have to be brought back together by a zany scheme hatched by Jack and Karen involving full body casts and a hospital and … yeah, ok, back on target. Apparently my mind is as cluttered as my apartment. Anyway they reunited and said they’d stay in touch and didn’t end up getting together for another 20 years when their kids went to college together. As serendipity as that scenario was, I didn’t want it happening to us. We met at Dolce for a late lunch. They were asking us if we were ready to close our tab around 1:30 AM.
As we got through our meals, we came around to realizing why we hadn’t spoken. Apparently we were both doing too much chatting about each other without the other present. A mutual friend of ours was playing both sides out of jealousy for the time she and I were spending together. We buried the hatchet in many dishes but our favorite reason to reunite was sharing Dolce’s desserts.

Realizing how trivial the reason we parted was got me thinking about another of my favorite quotes to consider the past few weeks:

"People will always talk about you, especially when they envy you and the life you live. Let them... you affected their lives, they didn't affect yours." ~ Anon

It’s incredible how two short lines of text can give you an entirely new perspective on life and a little self introspection can lift a burden off your mind. You affected their lives, they didn’t affect yours. WOW. The adage about people only talking about you out of jealousy is a very old theory and in most capacities a universal truth. When coupled with the latter part of the quote it just makes that much more sense. There are those I’ve envied on some subconscious level for whatever reason and would occasionally talk about (good or bad) because I was interested in possibly living their life. When I stopped having any interest in being them, I had no desire to talk about them, to make a comment, or to even get involved. These days, my theory with that in mind is taken from the great Bonnie Raitt, “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

I’m going to start by talking about Priceline.com since it’s definitely something worth the chatter. It’s been around forever but is by far one of my favorite travel sites these days. The trip I’m finishing in DC (blog eventually to follow) had me staying at a gorgeous four star boutique hotel in an awesome area for $110/night while the hotels’ rack rate was $329/night for the dates I was there. My trip last month to Toronto allowed Priceline to bestow upon me the gift of a five star hotel in the city center for $65 CAN/night.

Toronto was beautiful. Though a little chilly at times, the weather was beautiful and crisp providing a wonderful atmosphere for a family affair. Though I’m not from Toronto directly, a part of my extended family lives there and I always feel more than welcome when visiting. The out of towner gift basket they have waiting in the room alone is worth the trip. It’s almost like being at the Oscars before certain do-gooder-celebrities who shall remain nameless decided to start auctioning off the basket contents sending a flag to the IRS ruining it for everyone else. /rant

My first night in town I laid low and had my own tour of the city. Used the good ol’ standby ManCunt to look up some local boys and make friends. When I found someone I felt was genuine I had him over to grab a quick bite and head out.

We ended up at Remington’s, Toronto’s primary gay male strip bar, where I’d been before. It was just sleazy enough to be the perfect welcome to town evening. The talent jumped and gyrated around the stage showing off their ass…ets. Looneys and Tooneys as one and two dollar forms of currency in Canada did concern me a bit. In America the strippers tend to get a lot of dollar bills and short of wearing a change fanny pack, (which would be heavy and clutter the “outfit”) I was interested how they make their tips because people don’t seem to hand out fives so readily.

I guess I never realized last time how often the dancers disappeared upstairs for private dances. After a few performances I decided that one of their new dancers Richie was easily worth the $20CAN/song fee in the private areas. I prayed for a super long circuit remix.

No such luck as all songs there are four minutes give or take a few seconds. He tried to play the game of “two songs” because we got into the room as a song was ending but I looked at him with that look to say “I wasn’t born yesterday.” The “dance” was quite enjoyable and his butt is simply inexplicable. Rock hard and smooth as a baby’s butt, his body could have been illustrated in much the same terminology. He had that army brat military disciplined Czech boy look. Unfortunately uncut but fortunately I know that from being up close all too personal so all’s well that ends well.

The old adage goes that one smokes after good sex, some people smoke after sex in general. I’ve always enjoyed a glass of ice cold nonfat milk after sex. Good for me? Yes. Easy to do on vacation without a mini-bar? Not so much. While I was in Paris I learned that not being a walking chimney was essentially an insult to Parisians everywhere. I decided that if I were going to be bullied into smoking I’d choose something that I couldn’t get “addicted” to out of sheer practicality. Thus I opted for Cohiba’s mini cigarillos. Damned Cuban Embargos.

In Canada there is no embargo nor are there unreasonable limits placed on Nestle. In Toronto I picked up my two vices, Cohibas and Nestle’s Coffee Crisp candy bars. Yes, it’s official. I came out of the closet and am revealing my hidden secret – I have a sick obsession with Coffee Crisps and without them I might very well perish. They’re slowly making their way to a city near you but meanwhile one needs to seek them out by the case online. A very dangerous option.

Another reason I like being in Toronto is because the only other family members of my generation in my age range live there. While I’m perfectly happy not having siblings it would be nice to have someone in the family to sympathize with when I bitch about aunt so and so or uncle farts a lot. One of my cousins and I got to play Will & Grace all weekend and it was a lot of fun.

We developed a game the first night at a hot spot in Yorkville called Lobby. We saw a waiter that was incredibly hot and started fighting over who’s team he played for. She insisted mine because he was too cute to be straight. I said he was hers because he was paying no attention to me despite my obvious flirting and kept focusing on her. Finally I just got frustrated and called him over engaging him in conversation:

“Who has a better chance with you?”
“Sooorry?” (I love Canadian accents)
“If one of us were to ask you out, who’s more likely to see you naked.”

He laughed and walked off. Ten minutes later he brought us our “check” which my cousin tried to fight me for in an effort to play good host to the out of town guest. The waiter insisted that this check was for me to take care of. Next to the check on a piece of receipt paper was his number, what time he got off work and a subtle joke about being a bottom. I’d never been happier to lose an argument.

My cousin used this turn of events to crack up at what was in the folio, gloat, and stick her credit card in.

“So now that I know who you’re doing tonight, who are you wearing to the festivities tomorrow night?”
“Jil Sander Suit”
“No, who designed your tux though?
“Tux? It’s a Bar Mitzvah. What the fuck would I need a tux for?”
“Oh, crap. You really should read the invitation (as she pulled it out from her purse as it was her reference card for the weekend), see? ‘Black Tie Encouraged.’”

I love how encouraged means required in Canada. This just meant a trip to go shopping which is never a problem for me especially when the exchange rate (no matter how small) was in my favor. After all, how much trouble could I get into shopping for a tuxedo shirt?

Famous last words. Richmond, one of the main streets in Toronto, was on fire causing the better upscale department store “The Bay” to be closed due to smoke being drawn into the store. We ended up at the slightly more crowded Eaton Center. We walked the floors and shopped to our hearts content. When I’m out of town, I try to shop at places that I can’t typically find in my area but there was no sense in skipping perfectly good Canadian Eye Candy when A&F was right there.

The cousin and I went in to be greeted by a beautiful baby face bubbly bubble butted bulging biceped bit of boy waiting at the door. Gorgeous everything with enough tattoos to be a bad boy but not enough to lose a clean cut quality. He engaged me in conversation first and my cousin got annoyed thinking that she was doomed to be surrounded by hot gay men for eternity. But he was into muay-thai which sent off straight alarms for me and I saw her eyes brighten up.

Give or take he gave us his life’s story about how his tattoos signified a new beginning and he used to be a bad boy and he was getting a new start on life. Then he showed us another tattoo that spelled out his last name in ornate Chinese style characters. He did a lot of flexing and invited us to give it a squeeze. ::melt:: The tank top he was wearing didn’t leave much to the imagination nor did the fitted shorts hugging his butt. Needless to say someone needed to be ridden like a stallion but my cousin was too embarrassed and just wanted to shop. He didn’t seem interested so after a little actual shopping in the store we said goodbye and left.

After I had acquired the shirt and tie combo that would turn a very upscale suit into a tux we started making our last rounds through the mall. As we passed Abercrombie again, I told her last chance (knowing she would rather be dead than shop at Eaton again) and she should get his number. When she didn’t respond I went in and told him that my shy cousin wanted his number if he wanted her to have it. He couldn’t give it to me fast enough. I told her that I expected any and all details. True to her breed a lady never tells but apparently they’re still seeing each other.

Oy, I’m feklempt. I’ll give you a topic. Rhode Island is neither a road nor an island, discuss amongst yourselves.

That night was the big soiree. Only news to be reported was that we played our, “who’s more likely to see you naked” game again with one of the photographers who had consistently been taking shots in our area. His response was to show us a wedding ring and tell us there’s a baby on the way. Ironically enough he didn’t take any more pictures of us again that night.

In hindsight I realize the game still was never up with gay marriage being legal in Canada.

The next day was the day for most of the out of towners to go home but I was sticking around. That gave me a chance to corrupt my favorite cousin. Last time I was in town I tried to take her to Remington’s with me only to find out they had a no females policy except for the Ladies night they had once or twice a week. I wasn’t passing up the chance to bring miss prim and proper to the den of debauchery.

We arrived and there were women scattered all about. After a couple drinks at a slightly removed table and she had acclimated herself with the establishment, I moved us to the front row which is appropriately named “pervert’s alley.” Richie was dancing and he apparently remembered me because he kept walking by our table.

A “blessed” Cuban gentleman was dancing in a g-string on stage while my cousin sipper her Cosmo. As he removed his anal floss he began to flop his penis up and down rather close to my cousin’s nose. That line from Clueless about balls flying at a nose came to mind. Her only response to the gentleman,

“That penis is entirely too close to my face at the moment. If you plan on using it in the future, I suggest you take a step backward.” Nobody can accuse her of being crass.

Then, a very hot boy that was dressed like one of the bar-backs came to the stage in order to do the typical job of squeegee’ing the mirror covered in sweat between performances. Half way through the chore, he turned around and gave an award winning prep school smile that only the blond tanned all American (yet he was Canadian) boy next door could give. He was then introduced at Rocky. He eventually began peeling off clothes proving he deserved that title with his rippling torso. Perfect body with a little fuzz and a huge cock, the boy worked the stage like nobody’s business.

At that point I had been under the impression that most of the dancers (especially the ones worth while) were straight. Any eye contact I disregarded for flirting in hopes of making money. After an amazing dance routine that could only have been performed by a straight professional or a gay man, I assumed that he was the latter since a professional wouldn’t be working there.

He was making rounds around the bar later and we decided to play our game despite having both already seen him naked. I asked,

“So if we were both to buy a dance with you, who would get further in the private booth?”
He laughed and put his arms around us, “Well, considering I promised my girlfriend not to give private dances to other girls – looks like you’d have more fun than she would.”

We chatted a bit more and he had a brain which was refreshing. He told me about his business venture which I’m not sure if it’s online yet or not, naughtyandnicepaddles.com. After another drink I got my cousin a dance with Richie since I had enjoyed him so much but figured she’d have more fun with the straight boy and he’d enjoy himself more as well. I opted to take Rocky for a spin.

I’m without words except to say that I really enjoy lapdances. That boy apparently had training on how to be gay behind closed doors and could grind like nobody’s business. And I’m hard … hold on … mmm k.

So shortly after that I put my dear cousin in a cab to bid her adieu with plans for dinner the next night before I left. After that, I met up with some more ManCunt boys and went to a Billiard Bar in the gayborhood. Following an extensive amount of flirting, we began to plan the three player pool game called cutthroat to determine who would inevitably be bottoming first. Thankfully I’m really good at pool so after beating them both the first game they teamed up on me in the second game. It ended up with me being in the middle which is always hot. Oh Canada!

So the next morning I woke up a little groggy either from lack of sleep or too much sex, couldn’t tell. As I made my way to the bathroom I noticed a bill slipped under my door. I thought to myself,

“Don’t they only give you your bill your last day?” …. “SHIT!”

Somehow I’d mixed up my days and dates and was flying home MONDAY instead of Tuesday. Me = Chicken with my head cut off. But I made it to the airport with time to spare so it was overall a VERY successful and enjoyable trip to the North East.

What was really cool about Toronto was that I got to make money doing what I would have been doing anyway. No not that … or that. No really, think more pedestrian … like joggers. I was working out in the hotel gym and a slightly more mature woman approached me asking if I was an in house trainer after I helped teach someone an exercise on the cable machines. I told her I wasn’t but had been in the process of earning credentials for personal training in America. She told me to sign her up for the next session and I asked if she was kidding. Apparently she only works out with a trainer and is lost without someone telling her what to do. Her husband was just as lost without her telling him what to do so I booked two personal training appointments while I was there on top of everything else.

With that perfect segway, here is a variation of the workouts I did with her for this edition of

(Training Tips Image)

Chest, Shoulders, and Triceps

Incline DB Press 4 4,8,12,16^
Smith Flat Bench 4 4,8,12,16^
Cable Crossover 3 10,10,12
*Seated Overhead DB 3 12,12,12
*Alternate Front DB Raise 3 12,12,12
*DB Lateral Raise 3 12,12,12
RVS Pec Deck Fly 3 10,10,12^
Tricep Dips 4 8,8,10,12^
Machine Overhead Extension 3 10,10,12

1 Minute between sets
1-2 Minute break between exercises

* means that these exercises are supersetted.
For example, in this case Seated Overhead Dumbbell Presses, Alternate Front Dumbbell Raises, and Dumbbell Lateral Raises are Supersetted. ONE set involves doing 12 reps of EACH exercise … 12 12 12 x 3. So keep that in mind that you need a weight you can do all that with without stopping.

^ means try to push out a few extra reps if possible

The first two exercises are extreme drop sets. Four sets with increasing reps. Start with the most weight you can do for four reps. Wait two minutes, take off 20 – 30% of the weight and do the next set. Repeat till complete with all four sets.

These exercises will prove particularly helpful to people getting back in shape like my roomie. He’s been hitting the gym now that we’ve gotten a supplemental membership at something a little more affordable – the 20-Whore-Hour-Sit-on-This in West Hollywood. He’s looking really hot right now and getting his body into go-go dancing shape. You MAY be seeing him on a box at Mickey’s soon so keep your eyes peeled. Meanwhile, here are his latest pix and contact info if you needed a reminder.

Speaking of boys with cute butts, I have a new one in this blog’s

(Fresh Faces)

Adam Marks

310.584.7629

5' 10" 148lbs Hazel/Brown 9"c

xxxadammarksxxx@gmail.com

Adam Marks is one of those boys that you always wanted in school but never even bothered to approach because all he did was talk about pussy. He’s definitely straight but has that nifty.org appeal of, “well maybe after a few beers.” He’s readily happy to cross over the bi-party line and suck cock while having quite the endowment himself.

The boy is VERY well hung and the pictures you see here are him soft. It gets thick and juicy to that perfect size where it takes some work to get it down your throat but once it’s there it feels like you’ve just put that last bit into a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle. Unfortunately with that perfect butt of his he says that bottoming won’t ever be an option but I’m definitely skeptical. He’s a very willing and great top though.

Personality wise, Adam is very intelligent and can hold his own in any conversation. He’s a great guy and very friendly. Give this guy a call because he’d definitely show you a great time. Adam was actually referred to me by my own “Mama Hooker”. Mentoring would be pushing it but he’s definitely been an inspiration in this industry and it’s always been fun hearing his old war stories. With a two generation seal of approval, you can’t go wrong getting in touch with Adam Marks.

Another boy I’ll be checking in on and reporting on in the near future is the newly Los Angeles transplanted Jason Renyolds from San Francisco. I alluded to our evening a little while back with a picture of him strapped down to my bed stark naked and yes, the evening was everything it seemed to be.

After picking him up from the Brandon Baker estate affectionately known as the Porno Palace, we went to see the movie Premonition starring Sandra Bullock and Julian MacMahon. I’m a big fan of both but more so Julian for his work as the “Source of all Evil” on Charmed and his starring role again as the “Source of all Evil” on Nip/Tuck. ::insert laugh:: OK fine, so plastic surgeons aren’t evil but they certainly make those of us mortals feel shitty about ourselves. How hot was it to see him get put in his place by Mario Lopez in the shower that day … let’s recap. Mmmmm. OK moving on.

We got to the movie and got some snacks realizing we shared a penchant for chicken apple sausages at the Arclight theater. In line I dealt with what had to be one of the ditziest girls in all of LA (think Stupid Girls a la Pink from above) who was in a HEATED argument with her boyfriend over the fact that there were SEVEN plagues on Egypt and only seven holy commandments. Calling her a shiksa goddess is the understatement of the century. After I explained to her about the seven deadly sins and the 10 plagues she seemed to understand only to get upset that she got popcorn butter in her hair when she flipped her head to the side in bemusement.

There were four of us in the entire theater. The Arclight in Hollywood allows you to choose your exact seats for the show. I guess they figure being so close to the Pantages it’s only fair. Jason chose two in the far back corner and I could only assume why. I figured out why rather quickly when my pants were around my ankles and his head was in my lap.

After a couple oral exchanges that didn’t violate the no talking policy laid out by dancing candy before the previews, I reached my climax which is more than could be said for the movie. Unfortunately because of the trailers, one knows almost exactly what is going to happen, how it’s going to happen, who it’s going to happen to and quite literally when as they show you the calendar that she maps out of all of the above.

The movie was a little more horror’ish than the suspense thriller I expected but it was nice that it had a message. Even predicting the future doesn’t mean you need to change it. Things happen for a reason. Some times it’s better to let things happen and live for the moment rather than focus on what may or may not happen. The one thing that wasn’t IN the previews stems from the moral so I won’t give it away.

On the way back we stopped for Frostees because they are one of my favorite toys in bed. Yes Frostees. You have not had good sex till you’ve used a Frostee in bed. Wendy is not the innocent school girl with pig tails you might think, she’s had an alter ego from the beginning. When we got back to my place, Jason started going through my goodie drawers and was happy realize that I was about as vanilla as the chocolate delectables we had brought home.

Here’s a reminder of that picture from the evening. Let’s just say it was a memorable night and Jason is an awesome guy. People in L.A. are lucky to have him in town and those who aren’t should get here and experience an incredibly tight and talented ass attached to a sweet southern gentleman.

And now what you’ve all been waiting for … the Rentboy Pool Party!