Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Virtual or Reality?
It's interesting that gay bloggers meet each other, in real life...in person. I've never had this leaning, myself. I express myself too much to want to meet another blogger in real life. I don't want someone new to know what I'm thinking, and what my diary confesses. The blogger would have to be truly special, for me, to meet him in person. It's not that I'm hiding that I'm a fat, bloated, ugly person. My blog is to archive my history, rather than to meet people. I guess I'm odd in this respect.

I wonder what gay bloggers truly think about meeting each other. Somehow, there's an unwritten rule, that you cannot truly say what you think about the blogger, once meeting them in non-virtual reality. In other words, in real life, you cannot express what the blogger is like. I've heard, from good sources, that the blogger is not as goodlooking or as interesting in real life, than they are in their blog. Many bloggers create their own virtual life, via the blog, but in real life, they are dull and boring. Other bloggers suggest they are really hot, but in real life, are fat and/or uninteresting.

So there's lots to think about here.

Tuesday, May 18, 2004

Reading DogPoet's post about wrestling reminded me of some experiences I had in school. DogPoet has a way of triggering deeply felt and remembered memories at a fully sensory level.

I 'm in grade 6. I've been a competitive gymnast for over a year. I look skinny and not particularly strong. I'm good -looking, and the girls love me. But the boys tend to hate me. They know I'm a gymnast and believe I'm totally gay (I guess they were right - I didn't know it at the time). Especially two boys - one is Asian, the other is white trash.

The Asian boy is known to be the strongest guy in the school. He's a karate expert. He's got a bad attitude to match. Somehow, we decide to compete in an arm wrestle. Everyone is so caught up in the excitement - who will win? I remember sitting at a round table in front of large windows overlooking the playground. Everyone in class is surrounding us, eager to see me lose. Where was the teacher? Who knows! When I think back on my life in school, I really wonder where the teachers are. How come they didn't do more for me? Anyway...we grip hands, across from one another and begin the arm wrestle.

After about 5 seconds of struggle, I slap his knuckles down on the table, with no problem. I was shocked at how easy it was. So was everyone else. So we did it a second time. Again, I bruise his knuckles on the round table top with no problem. I feel like he wasn't even trying to combat me. The girls loved it: the boys denied it. "It's a trick," the boys say.

Then in grade 8, gym class, we're taught to wrestle. I was paired with an ex-friend, named David, who is considered to be very strong and masculine. We were good friend before junior high. We hung out together. He was the first guy with whom I slept over at his place. He showed himself to me naked, got a hard on, and we played with each other's dicks. Even at 12 years old, he had a big cock. It was fun to jerk him off. And he smelled good. Something happened over the summer, and he decided to ignore me. Now we were forced to wrestle each other during gym class.

Like DogPoet expresses, it was a smaller room, with lots of padded walls and mats. So we began wrestling - David was good. He nearly got me. But because of my gymnastic training, I managed to throw my legs over his head and neck, and throw him over, and pin him down. I felt bad about beating him, because I had feelings for him. After all, he let me jerk his big cock. But, I managed to beat every boy in the class in wrestling. Meanwhile, in typing class, I did over 60 words per minute, on a manual typewriter. Everyone was confused.

In grade 9 we were taught gymnastics. I knew, by this time, that being a gymnast was very gay. So I couldn't show off my talents in this realm (I was competing in gymnastics). Also, I was at a different school. So I pretended that I couldn't do gymnastics. When we had to do a forward roll on the mat, I'd make it look awful. When we swung on the parallel bars, I didn't point my toes, and I made it seem that I found it difficult to do (meanwhile, I could do a handstand on them, and many other complicated moves). So I faked it, and made myself look like every other guy in the class. We were measured for fitness ability, and I got grade A marks. I could do at least 40 chinups, and my body/fat was measured at 6%.

Finally, at the end of the class, I told the gym instructor that I was a gymnast, and could do a lot more than he asked us to do. I told him I was faking my ability, because I didn't want to be teased by the other guys. So I met with him, after school, and showed him what I could do. I did my double back handsprings, followed by a full out backsommersault, and more. He was freaked out. But he understood why I hid my talent.

There's far more incidences of me beating "the straight people" with my physical abilities...but I'll leave it for another post.

Tuesday, May 11, 2004

Semi-Rape Fantasies
I don't think I've ever posted or written about this, but it needs to be heard/remembered, in my blog diary.

After BC went to Saltspring Island with me, one summer, for a couple of romantic months together, we were staying at a luxurious, Italian-inspired bed and breakfast. We were having a great time together, touring the island, making food on the B&B barbeque, slapping back the beers and renting DVDs that we'd watch on my laptop in the bedroom when night arrived. We watched a DVD (I can't remember the name of it) because I fell asleep during the whole movie. I know it had Angelina Jolie in it, and it was very sexual. Anyway, I'd been asleep for at least an hour, when I was suddenly awakened by BC, sticking his huge cock up my ass. Unprotected, and without lube. The DVD was no longer playing. BC decided he was very horny, and wanted to fuck me, even though I was passed out on the bed. But he was hard, and started playing with my butt with his cock. I woke up, was in half-awareness, but, his hard cock playing with my butt turned me on. Eventually he managed to stick his whole dick up my ass, while we were laying on our sides. I have to admit, it was hot. I don't know if he thought I was awake or semi-awake or unconscious...he simply decided to fuck my butt and he was passionate about it, and it did turn me on.

The next time he fucked me, was mostly when I was unconscious, after he returned from Saltspring Island, after having sexual relationships with a gay couple he met there. Again, look in the archives. It's very sad, the whole story. We went out to straight clubs later, with a gorgeous straight woman, then went to a gay club, and BC and I ended up at my place to "sleep." I was ready to sleep - too much booze - but he was very horny, and ended up turning me onto my back, lifting my legs, and sticking his HUGE cock up my ass, when I wasn't really ready. It hurt like hell, but felt good at the same time. He fucked me like an animal. Again, without lube. It hurt like hell, but to be honest, I LOVED it. It was so hot seeing BC get so passionate, about sticking his huge cock up my ass, and loving it.

In the "end" I remember these sessions as being very hot. They're sexual fantasies. It's a raw, but a true, experience.

Friday, May 07, 2004

A run-on sentence of love
today I bought an album that reminded me of you, and when playing it, i remembered playing an album for you, in my car, when we went to saltspring island and were staying at a bread and breakfast together as lovers, and i think maybe we smoked a joint, i can't remember, but i played two songs for your from delerium, which i love, and you listened with me, quietly, without saying a word, and it was just the two of us, side by side, listening, in the car over the powerful stereo at night, when no lights were visible, and i was imagining that you were feeling the song like i was, but maybe you were just being patient or kind, but after the song was done, i felt like you had heard it through my ears, and expressed that you loved it as much as me but since you tended to tell me what I wanted to hear, who knows if you were telling me the truth, but at the time, i thought you told me the truth and it made me feel so close to you and so now, even though it's almost a year and a half of not talking to you, i remember that moment and i wonder if it's true and if you loved me as much as i loved you and you probably didn't. anyway, thank you for that moment. maybe sometime i will be able to experience such a moment with someone.. that is authentic?

what do you do with these moments? were they not important to you? do you not remember them? i guess they're not real for you. were there any moments with me that you can't forget, were meaningful to you? do you ever miss me? i somehow doubt it beause of the way you cheated on me, and met a new boyfriend while we were together. you said i was important to you, but probably not in the way you were important to me, because you could move on to someone else, without a single tear.

anyway, i forgive you and still love you.

Thursday, May 06, 2004

Marriage, Salmon and African-American Sex
Cowboy's partner came to visit last week. (Cowboy is my new roommate.) I'll call him "Phil." He's very nice and I'm gave them the whole Vancouver tour. We drove all over Vancouver, and ended up in Horseshoe Bay, a beautiful seaside town and had an amazing dinner overlooking the ocean. I had the 8 ounce salmon, marinated in Maple syrup, with a spicy papaya salsa. Delicious! (My recipe is better though...)

Marinate your salmon in equal parts of orange juice and soya sauce, with a teaspoon of ketchup, tons of crushed garlic, and a little salt and pepper to taste. Bake or barbeque. It is truly the best I've ever had.


Cowboy and Phil got married during his visit to Canada. Phil plans to move here in June and set up house together with Cowboy. I wish them the best.

Phil mentioned he had a couple of black (or should I say African-American?) boyfriends, and for some reason that set me off on a tangent. I've never been with an African-American man. I'd like to be. One of my last roommates was AA, but I wasn't attracted to him. Phil's comment was like an internet virus that got into me. I found myself looking online at AA men, fantasizing. So I decided it was time for me to meet one. So I did.

He is very attractive, muscular and has a nicely sized dick - about 8-9 inches and thick. A sweet guy. Really, I don't know what the whole fantasy was about. It wasn't any different from having sex with a Caucasian guy, with a nicely sized dick.
Not as big as BC, but big enough. I suppose that fantasies are usually more interesting than reality, in general.

I did like his curly black, trimmed underarm hair, and crotch hair. It was cute. I liked his buzz-cut scalp. Thick lips, and small ears. His artful tattoos across his lower and upper back. He was very uncut, and his balls and cock were quite dark. But then, I like lots of things.

I've probably said too much and offended too many people to say anything more. Obviously, I really don't know what I'm talking about, in terms of AA culture, so I need to shut up now. But really, it was nice.

Sunday, May 02, 2004

Wreck Beach
At the University of British Columbia, here in Vancouver, there's a world-famous nude beach, named "Wreck Beach." It's only about 10 minutes away from where I live. To get there, you have to walk down a terraced cliff. It takes about 10-15 minutes. You're in the midst of gigantic cedar trees, fauna and flora. It's very beautiful and unspoiled. Once you get down the cliff, you're meeted by a HUGE sandy beach, and the most spectacular view of the ocean and outlying Gulf Islands.

All over the beach are nudists, ex-hippies, hippies, and people of all callings. Both men and women. They're either wearing nothing, or some have a shirt on, and nothing else. All kinds of drugs are sold freely, by people who walk up and down the beach selling their wares, calling out "marijuana brownies," or "West coast mushrooms" or "beer and cola." Sometimes you get exotic drinks, like martinis or Blow Jobs. You can buy marijuana by the joint, or by the bag. Same with mushrooms. Some Wreck Beachers set up tents, where they sell Mexican fahitas, or tofu hotdogs. Everyone is a little drunk or stoned.

It's not legal, of course. But because, in Canada, university lands are only allowed to be policed by the RCMP (who don't show up very often), so mostly everyone gets away with it.

There is a gay section at the main Wreck Beach, by the rocks on the southern side, where both hot and unattractive gay men lay naked, looking to get laid. Or they're admiring the straight body builders who come to Wreck Beach, or the large penises of Wreck Beachers, that dangle so deliciously.

But the main gay area is even more south of the main Wreck Beach. To get there, you go down another terraced cliff. You have to walk about 15 minutes of trails to find the main areas. Here, gay men freely lay about nude, checking each other out. But the whole area around there is gay, and full of outdoor sex. You see guys sucking each other, in the open, or fucking. There are a lot of exhibitionists involved. They enjoy being watched, and often a crowd congregates in front of a couple who are sucking or fucking. There's lots of maze-like trails in the bush, where guys can get it off together. I've seen almost everything, I think. It's not just ugly, nasty old guys doing it - you see hot studs getting off too. It's truly a Canadian West Coast experience.

I'm not into outdoor, anonymous sex myself, but I must admit...I enjoy watching it. And is there anything more glorious than laying naked on a sandy beach, in the hot sand? I think not.