Sunday, 20 December 2009
Wednesday, 16 December 2009
Saturday, 12 December 2009
As I said a couple of posts back, Jay has got me hooked onto all these new shows. Well because he was going away this weekend, and he knew I would be stuck in the house because of my injuries, he asked me to go meet him from work so that he could give me another boxset to see me through the weekend. I was only going to be seeing him for about 30 minutes but I figured it was worth it sinse I wouldnt be seeing him for FOUR WHOLE DAYS!!! :p
Friday, 11 December 2009
People keep looking at me in the street like I am a thug. My nose is plastered across my face and I have two black eyes. I probably shouldnt have gone out in my hoody I guess. I'm kinda proud of my war wounds though, which is totally stupid. The doctor who saw to me was gorgeous!! Well worth the pain.
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
Sunday, 6 December 2009
Thursday, 3 December 2009
When I was about 19 I lived in Ibiza for one summer, working as a PR person (hanging outside bars trying to get people to come in etc). I loved it. The best summer of my life so far without a doubt. Two bars down from where I worked there was a guy called Guy and working in between us was a girl called Sarah. For the first two months, Sarah was always trying to play matchmaker between us. She used to tell me how into me he was, but without him coming over and speaking to me himself in that context, I wasnt going to make any sort of move. I think a part of me was scared. He was American, gorgeous and if I am honest, I thought Sarah was winding me up about how much he liked me.
After about 2 months he finally came over and asked me out. We both had the same day off later that week and it was arranged. I think he was about 26 at the time and he was so hot that I just couldnt believe he was into me. I think the nerves got the better of me because I ended up drinking the better half of a bottle of vodka before our date. By the time we hit the bars I was already pretty wasted, and I didnt stop. I wanted to, but I just couldnt stop drinking. In fairness though, he was hitting a few back as well. We had a great night of dancing and flirting and we shared a few kisses too and at the end of the night he came back to my apartment.
It all started out so well. We got through the door and we were totally into each other, tearing each others clothes off before finally settling on the sofa. Things were progressing quickly and I ended up on the floor while he sat on the couch and I gave him head. I was pretty drunk so taking my time but the more he got into it, the more he started pushing down on my head. I was having a hard time concentrating because everytime I closed my eyes I was getting the whirlies. Anyways, he kept pushing down on my head and as hard as I tried, I couldnt stop gagging.
I tried to pull myself away, but he was having none of it and without being able to stop myself, I was sick all over his dick. (Oh my god I dont know why I am admitting this, I am so embarrassed) It was everywhere, all over my sofa, on his dick and balls and legs, everywhere. I knew there and then that the night had come to an end and it was probably for the best. Guy just got up, pulled his shorts up over the sick (ew!), and left, and for some reason I never heard from him again. Sarah told me that he had moved to another bar down the road out of embarrassment. I think I would have died on the spot if I had seen him again anyway.
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
December is upon us and it is now officially (for me, anyway) ok to start looking forward to Christmas. I have been watching people putting up decorations on their houses today and it has really got me in the festive mood. 24 days left until Santa unloads his sack for me :P
I was having man issues last night. Or at least, I think I may have been. Text messaging should be banned. I always try to not read anything into a text because words can be read in a million ways, but a text from Jay last night in what was probably an innocent or even jokey manner, came accross as not so nice, and then I spent the whole night stewing over what was meant by it. I tried texting back and asking him to explain, but then things were getting confusing because neither of us were understanding what the other was on about. I rang him this morning and everything got cleared up, but that feeling of unease last night was horrible. Sorted now though, so its all good.
As a little aside, it is taking me ages to write this because Sleeping With The Enemy has just come on cable and I haven't seen it for years and it's reshocking me all over again.
My nomination for arsehole of the week goes to Rupert Everett who today has said that gay actors should stay in the closet because they can never be successful otherwise. I haven't tried to 'break America' as it were, but I just always put his limited success down to the fact that he isn't actually a very good actor as apposed to the fact he was gay. Maybe it's an attitude like his that makes it harder for gay actors to be seen as leading men. When an openly gay actor tells others they should stay in the closet, what does that say to all the studios and directors out there?
A little update on my friend Emma. Me and Shane tried to talk to her but she was having none of it. For a while she seemed a little hesitant in her response though, so we at least think she has taken it on board. She didnt say so outright, but I could tell she was pissed off with us. She tried saying that we must have misinterpreted what we saw and came up with a 100 other excuses. I guess the only person who can make her see sense is herself. I will be there when it all falls apart though.
My smelly housemate decided to get a bus into town today instead of driving, then came home and moaned about the 'state of the people' who take public transport, and how the person next to him was really smelly. I'm starting to think that he either thinks I am joking when I tell him he reeks, or he is just outright fucking stupid.
I just want to take a second to give a shout out to all my new followers and readers, and everyone who has made comments on my posts. It's great to come on and read them and I look forward to more. Hope everyone has a great day, wherever you are in the world.
Just to add, that little picture above is a pressie for all my followers to help keep you warm on these winter nights. Or just to gawp at, whatever suits you :D
Monday, 30 November 2009
Ok so this story is short because I didnt stay around for too long, but here goes. About 2 years ago I was out with a friend in a bar and I got chatting to this guy called Russell. He seemed nice enough. He looked a bit unkempt, but in a hot way rather than a scruffy way. He was a student I think, and he seemed to have the attitude of a bit of a tree hugger. Anyways, we arranged to go out later in the week, and exchanged numbers.
A few days later on the 'date' we met outside a bar and then had a couple of drinks. Things seemed to be going well and he asked if I wanted to go and get some food somewhere. We were near china Town so I thought we would end up going there or to some of the nicer places nearby, but as we walked he was telling me about all these different allergies he suffered from and how he can only eat certain foods, and we ended up in McDonalds. To say I was pissed off is an understatement. Dont get me wrong, I have nothing against the place, but when your dressed to impress and out with someone on a date, its not the place to be seen.
Despite his choice of eatery, the night wasnt so bad and I invited him back to mine. we had a few drinks and then went into the bedroom. Things were a bit awkward at first. He undressed me, but was really reluctant to take his own clothes off. After about half an hour I was close to giving up and wanted to ask him to leave, but then he finally got naked and got in bed and things seemed to be back on course.
We had to share a single bed and it wasnt so comfortable, but he was kinda lying on top of me. He started to nuzzle his head into my neck and I thought he was going to kiss it, but then, out of fucking nowhere, he starts purring. FUCKING PURRING!!! I mean full on, from the diaphragm, purring. In the 30 seconds it took me to work out what the hell was going on, he startes nuzzling into my neck again, licking his hand like a cat and griding his dick against my leg.
I asked him what the fuck he was doing, and he just looked at me, still purring, and asked me if I would call him Kitten!!!??! "Kitten?", I questioned, and as I did, he let out a big sigh, pushed himself against me one more time and then shot a load onto my leg!! My reaction was a mix of shock and disgust and it took me less than 5 minutes to have him dressed and out of my flat. I never saw or heard from him again, thank god!
Sunday, 29 November 2009
Saturday, 28 November 2009
Anyways, there is a point to today's post. I was chatting with a guy yesterday (you should all check out his blog HERE) and I promised him that I would right my coming out story. And so this is it....
I will try and keep it short and sweet.
I was 15 when I cam out to my mother. I had known all my life that I was gay and it was never one of those things I suddenly had to come to terms with, I just always knew and accepted it. I come from a family made up mainly of men. I have 4 older brothers and so I kinda had a lot to live upto in terms of following them into sports and 'man stuff'. My dad skipped out on us when I was 2 and so I never really bothered with him much, and my mum was both parents and my main role model, and we have always been amazingly close. I would say she is like a best friend to me.
Anyways, I probably would have come out when I was about 13 had it not been for the fact I felt I was letting my brothers down. I had had sexual encounters with guys and knew that that was what I was into, but I always kept it as my secret. One night when I was about 14, me and a friend got drunk on a bottle of whiskey we found at her house. I remember for some reason admitting to her that I was gay. She didn't believe me at first, but then I started telling her some stuff about what I had done and she was soon convinced. I remember how free I felt, telling my best friend and having her not give a damn in the slightest. Once I sobered up the following morning though I was mortified and immediately rung her to say it was only meant to be a joke and I couldnt believe she fell for it. She was having none of it though, and my secret was out for good.
Everything was fine for a few months, I used to confide my stories in her, and she always kept them to herself. We used to go around in group, as kids do, of about 15 or 20 of us. We used to hang around the park or whatever, not causing mischief, just being teens. Anyways, this guy started hanging around with us called David. He was a few years older, as camp as tits and a screaming homosexual. I became fascinated with him for being so out there. Every guy I had ever been with was sharing my closet, so to meet and befriend someone so open with their sexuality was refreshing.
One night we were walking home, just David and I, and we were talking about random stuff when he asked me if I had ever kissed a guy. I lied and said no, and he asked me if I wanted to try it. I said yes, probably a little too eagerly, what with my hormones kicking in, and we stood there in the middle of the street making out. I didnt find him attractive. It wasnt a sex thing at all. To ask me now, I have no idea why I kissed him, but I was 15 and horny I guess, so I did. i went home and thought nothing more of it.
Now, most people come out. I think I was dragged out kicking and screaming. A few days after our kiss, David had told everyone. It's one thing keeping a secret from friends, but I wasnt willing to lie, so when questioned (see: Spanish Inquisition) I admitted that his story was true. Some of the guys didnt believe it at first, others thought it was hysterical, but despite the barrage of questions, not a single one of them said anything negative about it. I realised then how great my friends are, and how much I love and value each and every one.
I knew that with so many people knowing, and living in such a small town as I did, that it wouldnt be long until the rumours would get back to my mum, and I knew I would have to tell her. I left it a couple of days, but I thought I owed her the respect to hear it from me and not someone else.
On the day I decided to tell her, things were pretty shitty. I had had a crap day at school, had rowed with my mother the night before, and was generally just nervous as hell. In what was probably the least smart move of my life up to that point, I managed to get myself a flagon of cider and got wasted before going home that evening. I had two of my friends on standby incase things got ugly, and I went home intent that I wouldnt leave again until my mum knew everything. What I had forgotten however, was that my mum was having a dinner party that evening, that I was supposed to be there for. Her, me, and 8 guests. I genuinly had forgotten, but she thought I missed it on purpose because of our arguement the night before.
As soon as I got through the door she knew I was drunk. She gave me that look that only a mother can give and I knew things werent going to go smoothly. She calmly told me to sit down at the table, but then changed her mind and told me to get upstairs. I have never seen her look so embarrassed. I was falling about everywhere and mumbling rubbish to myself. In the end she lost it a bit and started raising her voice. I started storming up the stairs, banging each step as I went. I heard her shout something to me about being grounded and without even registering what was going on, I stood at the top of the stairs, in full view of everyone and screamed
"You just hate me because I'm gaaaaaaaaaaaaaay"
I barely managed to register her expression before tripping over my own foot and falling down the stairs and passing out drunk against the door. The next thing I remember was being propped against the sofa with my mum staring at me. Everyone had left except for Susan, my mums best friend and I could tell they were waiting for answers. I didnt really know what to say so I started giggling to myself.
From there on out, it all got a bit horrible. My mother gave me the 'I will always love you, but...' speech and I lost it. My mum, the person I was closest to in the whole world, wasnt scooping me in her arms and telling me that everything was going to be alright. We ended up having a blazing arguement and I told her I was leaving. I phoned up my friend and stayed at hers. It was January 11th 2001 and I remember walking through the snow, drunk and crying my eyes out. I cried my eyes out all night.
The following day I went back to my mums and spoke to her soberly. She told me that she wasnt annoyed with me that I was gay, but that I put her in a very awkward situation by telling her in front of everyone else and just expecting her to deal with it, which years later makes more sense than it did then. Things were a bit odd between us for a while. Neither of us knew what to say to the other, and the subject was never raised again until about 3 years later. I spent that whole time thinking that it was because my mother was in denial about it, but when it was brought up again, and I questioned her about it, she told me that it was never an issue for her, so she never felt the need to bring it up for no reason, and sinse I never raised the subject, she thought I didnt want to talk about it. I think sometimes it is easier to just to be open about things and that way wires can't get cross.
I am happy to say that in the end everything worked out brilliantly. Me and my mother are closer than we ever have been and me being gay means nothing more than my eyes being blue. Its a part of who I am, not the whole of who I am.
I suppose the only thing more daunting than telling my mum was having the rugby boys find out. In a very heterosexual sport I thought I would be thrown off the team, but that also went really well. My first day back at training after everyone found out was one of the scariest things of my life. I needn't have worried though. Every single guy on the team was fine about it and when I got to the changing room they had taped the soap to the wall with duct tape and written in shaving foam 'nobody bends over for the soap unless Ryan wins us the game this weekend'. They then continued to wind me up for, well, they still havent stopped.
Friday, 27 November 2009
Thursday, 26 November 2009
I fell asleep and missed the cinema. Didnt even cancel, just slept through all the calls and texts, so I woke up in a bad mood because of that, and in pain from sleeping awkwardly in the chair in the living room. I don't think I was asleep for long, two hours maybe, but whenever I sleep in the day for a short time I always wake up like a bear with a sore head.
I went to make myself some dinner because I was starving, and ended up getting even more pissed off when I saw that one of the thieving little twats I live with had cooked and eaten the chicken I had got ready earlier in the day. I ended up going crazy but each and every one of them denied it, like it had gotten up and made a run for it and I was supposed to believe that it was never there in the first place.
Jay is annoying me because he isnt texting as much as I want him too. I know how pathetic that sounds, and on any other day I probably wouldnt give a shit. He hasnt text me any less today than he normally would, but for some reason it just doesnt feel enough. I ain't going to say anything to him though, because I know he hasnt actually done anything to piss me off, I am just being a twat because I am tired and hungry.
I don't know whether or not to go for a run to cool off or to order in a Chinese takeaway and then go to bed. I could probably do with the sleep. The hills will be alive with the sound of music tomorrow, I promise.
I didn't stay too late, probably until about midnight, but getting out of that bed was probably the hardest thing I had ever had to do. The weather has been so rubbish lately, and it was so warm and comfy being wrapped in those sheets and entwined with him, but I knew if I didnt get home and do at least a couple of hours of sleep, then I would be a zombie today. I think I managed about 4 hours before I had to get up and make myself pretty for work.
Wednesday, 25 November 2009
Finished at the gym and ruined it all by tucking into a bacon butty. It's all I have eaten today thought, so that is my justification. Don't judge me. Got to get ready for rugby practice now. It doesnt start until half 6, so will drive down to save a bit of time, then off over to Jay's for a couple of hours. I was planning on staying the night but the boss has asked me to go into work tomorrow at 6, which will mean being up at 4.30, and I dont want to wake him when he has work at 9. Have arranged to stay over his at the weekend instead though.
To be honest I could quite happily cancel everything for the evening, have a soak in the bath and then go to bed. Got a headache that I can't shake and I've worked some random shifts lately so my sleep pattern is shot to shit. Better to be busy than sat on my arse doing nothing I suppose.
Tuesday, 24 November 2009
Once I finished at the gym I went for my obligitory Starbucks. I’ve been feeling pretty Christmasy for the last few days, so I ditched my usual Caramel (light) Machiato and instead opted for the Cherry Mocha. I don’t even like cherries, but it had a picture of holly on the cup in the picture, so it was good enough for me. The place was dead because I had beaten the commuters, so I got chatting to the guy serving me while I waited. He said he was new to the area and was asking about where to go, drink, eat etc.
Without thought, I was just stood at the counter sipping my coffee while we talked. He was fit. And when I say fit, I mean DROP DEAD GORGEOUS, FIT AS FUCK!!! He obviously worked out because he had a great boddy that was rippling out of his shirt, and gorgeous smile and seemed genuinly nice and funny. I must have being giving off my ’screaming homo’ vibe, because he casually dropped into the conversation that maybe I could show him around town sometime, and in return he would treat me to dinner. We shared a knowing glance before swapping numbers. A little bit of chit chat later and I then had to leave. He gave me a wink as I left and off I went.
Now, anyone who reads this blog regularly knows that I am in the middle of potentially starting something along the lines of formal dating with someone else, and I aint really one for running two guys at once, but all the same, being chatted up over morning coffee is nice, and put me in a great mood for the day.
I needed a new pair of headphones and the ones I wanted are about £20, so I had to head into town to get them this morning, so once I left the coffee shop, I headed towards the shops. BAD MOVE! I am a nightmare shopper. My friends hate going shopping with me because I will take 4 hours in a each shop. It’s ridiculous. If I know what I need, then I can be in and out in a flash, without distraction, but today, I spotted a sale in All Saints. I swear, I tried to just walk past the shop, but I couldnt do it, so in I went. Just to browse obviously.
An hour later I came out. A fucking hour. I spent nearlu £300 on new clothes when all I wanted was a pair of headphones, which in all the excitement I forgot to get, so by the time I got back to the car and remembered, meant I then had to walk all the way back into town. I made sure this time to keep my head down and not get distracted by any shop windows. I suppose on the plus side, for my £300 I got 3 fantastic pairs of jeans, and a new top. Bargain.
I am starting to think when I need something I should just go online so I wont get distracted by the shiny window displays.
The gym that I go too is quite nice. It’s cheap, but it has everything that I need, so I dont see the point in paying over the odds for the sake of going to a posher gym.
The people there are really relaxed, which I like. It isnt full of people walking around with their tops off, not actually working out, just wanting people to look at them, and one of the reasons I like it so much is because as many of you know, a lot of people, specifically gay men I would say, use the gym as a pick up joint. The gym I go too however, is primarily used for working out, which is why I changed from my old gym to that one.
As with anywhere you spend a lot of time, you get to know people, and recognise new faces easily, and over the last few weeks I have come to notice two new people in particular. I assume, though don’t know for sure, that they are a couple. In the changing rooms they are all over each other, and I am sure I walked in on them getting it on one time, though I wasnt paying too much attention so I couldnt say for sure.
The thing is though, as into each other as they seem to be, they are also quite openly checking everyone else out too. I have seen them at the gym maybe ten times in the last 3 weeks, but of all those times, I have seen them actually using the machines maybe a total of twice. The rest of the time they just seem to stay in the changing rooms.
Now don’t get me wrong, I am by no means a prude, but surely there is a time and a place. I have been going to various gyms for years, and I have seen a lot of goings on, but the flirting and staring and occasional sexy shenanigans usually happen when people have actually used the gym, rather than just going there for the pick up. These two guys blatently sit there and stare at people getting changed or showering and more than once I have heard them making comments about mens dicks, to guys I know who are straight and wouldnt appreciate it.
Writing this I feel like a grumpy old man. I am all for a bit of fun and flirting and messing around, but these guys are giving the place a bad rep, and I know there has been complaints. Most of the guys who use the gym are straight, and though they know I am not, that has never been an issue. What concerns me is that the few gay people who do use the place, myself included, will get tarnished with the same brush.
Is it so important to pick guys up/ spice up your sex life etc, that you would go to the effort of signing up and paying for the gym, only to use it for what is as good as cottaging? This is Manchester. For those of you who haven’t been here, or are unfamiliar with the place, it is like a gay mecca. It is where the original Queer as Folk was set, has nearly 100 gay bars and clubs, and countless saunas, sex shops, fetich clubs and pick up joints, so why do this at the gym? This isn’t a case of two people meeting at the gym and getting it on, it is two people going to the gym to hunt for sex.
Maybe I am just out of the loop on things. Is this normal? Am I just being a moody old arse? Part of me thinks I should live and let live, but the other part of me thinks that I should be able to go to the gym and get changed or take a piss without being perved on. I am more than aware that in those situations there are always stolen glances. I have done it myself, but there is a massive difference, surely?
I am interested to hear what other people think of this. Do you think I am being overly picky, or should it be kept for places more relevent?
Monday, 23 November 2009
Sunday, 22 November 2009
As I said, I have my own faith and if there is a heaven, then what with me being made in God's image, and old Jesus dying for my sins, I am pretty sure I will get a room with a view. I didn't choose to be gay, but I wouldnt have it any other way. I happen to really like my life and I am proud of who I am. I know my family is too, and that is all that really matters anyway, right?
Last year, around October time, I did the unthinkable and fell head over heels for a guy, who we shall call Jay, for the sake of this story. There was just something about him that made me go weak at the knees, and I got butterfly's everytime I saw him. I know, 'yuck' right? He was 2 years younger than me, but more mature than anyone I had ever dated. He had all these little idiosyncrasies that on anyone else would make him seem like a crazy person, but on him just added to the list of things I was starting to love about him.
After spending quite a lot of time with each other, he started to go a bit cold on me. His explanation was that he was still trying to work out what he wanted and whatnot. I was patient because I understood where he was coming from, but within a few days, without explanation he stopped taking my calls and texts, and so despite my feelings I cut off all ties.
In the months that followed, I got a few random texts from him, asking how I was and if I fancied going for a drink and I more or less ignored them all, figuring he had blown his chance, and it was time to move on. After not hearing from him in about 5 months, about 3 weeks ago he sent me a message out of the blue asking how I was. I was feeling at a bit of a low point and so I decided to reply and arranged to meet up for a drink with him that night.
Within a few minutes of being around him again, A lot of the old feelings started coming back, and by the end of the night we were at his house having sex. I didnt plan it, and I wasnt even sure if I was doing it because I wanted too, or because right there and then, I needed someone, and he was there. I started questioning whether I was acting any better than he had months before, and whether I was in a position to judge. One thing was for sure though, that I didnt expect to be hearing from him again for a long while.
True to form, the next few days went by without hardly a word. The plans we made to see each other again got cancelled (by him), and I was kicking myself for being in the same place I was a year ago. Only this time I had put myself there. Despite feeling stubborn about the situation, I still found myself waiting for my phone to ring. The next time I heard from him was a drunken 4am phonecall about a week later asking if he could come over. I told him to fuck off and hung up, finally deciding that we should NEVER go back.
Against my better judgement, and with my brain being overuled by my crotch, I decided to meet up again with him and after a couple of bottles of wine, we ended up back in bed together. This time though things were different. He asked me to stay the following morning when I said I needed to go, and he told me he was sorry for all the things that had happened between us before, and he knew now what he wanted, and that was for us to try and make a go of things. Part of me was really happy, but part of me was only there for the sex. Had I become the type of man I spent my life trying to avoid? Should I have gone back?
Today we were supposed to be going out for sushi in a nice Japanese place called Wasabi. I was kind of looking forward to it, but at the same time knew that if I went i was going to go for all the wrong reasons. Anyways, this morning I sent him a text making up an excuse, and cancelled. He is eager to rearrange the date, but I dont know if it is a good idea. I like him, but I think I am holding back on any sort of commitment, even in a tiny form, because I dont want to be in the place I was last time. I feel awful, and realise I am being a bit of a dickhead with my actions, but I genuinly dont know what I want, or what I should do. Should we ever go back? Well I guess that is up to you, but I say you should tread with care and take a bin bag with you to pick up the pieces when it all gets messy.
Saturday, 21 November 2009
Today things were different. A knee injury playing rugby earlier in the week means there was no coffee and shopping, no preparing for a wild night out and no drunken antics to be had. That's not so bad I guess, but what is worrying me is that my flatmate is now nagging me to go to the cinema. 'What's wrong with that?' I hear you say. Well she wants to go and see.... New Moon!
Appealing as the above image is, it still isn't enough to make me consider going. I just don't get the fuss. Did I miss something? I am starting to believe that I could be the last person breathing who hasn't seen the film or read the books, and I kinda pride myself on it. The Robert Pattinson guy that everyone seems to be swooning over looks like he needs a good soak in the bath, and the premise of the story itself sounds a bit shit. Don't get me wrong, I love a good vampire story. But give me David Boreanaz and a Buffy boxset any day of the week.