THE 3 GAYS

Last week, while at work I chatted up a 2 guys whom I was very attracted to, and whom I assumed might play for my team. Naturally I gave them liberal samples of beer and expelled my knowledge concerning such beverages. At some point they were joined by another gentleman, also very good looking. But I figured they were just 3 guys hanging out, which they were...but.

While I was waiting for the bartender to count his money/do paper work, I checked in on Grindr. I know, totally trashy but endlessly amusing. Right away I was messaged "hey are you the guy talking to me about beer?" I almost gasped. Not only was it the hot "alpha" of the group, but he lived 200 feet away, and his profile picture was of him only wearing football shoulder pads.

Anyways, so the guy on his left was his boyfriend that he lives with, and the one on his right was his "regular fuck buddy". I've never met a couple with an actual, honest and seemingly healthy open relationship...and they are apparently looking to add a fourth to the mix. An idea of which I'm reluctant, but very curious about. I mean, these guys are FUCKING HOT!

Last night the trio came in again, and it was...odd serving them beer and food. Mostly because they got me all horny, but really because I could feel their eyes on me, even from across the room. While I'm still on the clock "alpha" gay is texting me, and invited me to go out later to a gay bar. I declined.

I dunno. It's random, confusing and exciting - all at once! Story to be continued...

MY NEW FAVORITE OBJECT

I know, I know, please trust me when I tell you that I'm not into shoving my erect cock into cats faces. This is none other than my new prized possession; a water gun shaped conspicuously like "Justin Junior", that my friend (love you for this) purchased on my behalf.

My other buddy and I spent the last afternoon smoking pot, drinking beer and taking shots of whiskey when I pulled this thing out of my backpack. His cat immediately was drawn towards it, and I couldn't resit the urge to put it in it's face. Many giggles ensued.

That right there is the full on "cock" with the odd sideways balls. I plan on bringing it to work tomorrow. Hopefully I won't get arrested for indecent exposure. For now it shall reside upon the ledge next to the fridge in my kitchen.

I'm thinking of things other than water to fill it with. Skim milk? Vodka? Kalua? I'm open to any and all suggestions. Also, I'm thinking of all the potentially embarrassing photo opportunities. If you have any suggestions, leave them in the comments. Or e-mail me.

PS - Thanks again MK!

LEAST ROMANTIC DATE EVER!

Fucking hell..weirdest date last night. Not only did the guy I met look way too similar to the guy I dated last year (who broke my heart), he interrupted us making out to apply some sort of cream to an in grown hair below my chin that manifested itself in a pimple (whatever, it happens). Like...really?

Whatever...I left his place (unfulfilled sexually) at 6:45AM to go home and remove my contacts, to say nothing of my "honor", before I go into work today. Oh, and he had a tiny dog that he insisted sleep in his bed (I accidentally kicked it a few times) and freaked out when I spilled a glass of water off the nightstand...even though his bedroom resembled Sarajevo circa 1993.

But he did live right off the beach, in an old converted hotel. And as I left this morning to begin my walk of shameful shame, I snapped the above picture, which I really like (even though it's not 100% in focus). The cab ride home was the best $13 I may have ever spent.

WHERE DOES "IT" BEGIN OR END?

The above question mysteriously popped into my mind when I went to take a piss at 3:30AM, and has kept me awake ever since. Expository background: since Thanksgiving I've been dealing with a terminally ill family member - which is hard enough without it being the fucking holidays (I may or may not write about trying to console my Mother, totally drunk, in an elevator with "Santa is Coming to Town" playing in the background).

But yeah, that fucking existential question is stuck in my head and I can't help but ponder it. Obviously, we all know the biological answer to said question; but "spiritually", you're fucking alive before you're even born, and live long after you die. Right? At least that's how I feel. It's a comforting thought to think your literal time on this earth is exceeded by the memories of you're loved ones.

It's taken me 30 years of thought to bring me to this realization, and most likely it will take me another 30 years to wrap my head this concept, but it's comforting to know I'll be around long after I'm not. And so will you. We all leave our mark regardless if we know it or not; for good or ill, life is NOT defined by the breathe we take, a pulse or a blip on an expensive machine.

That being said, with my family's genetics, you all are going to have to deal with me FOR A LONG FUCKING TIME. We do not die easily. For fuck's sake, I should already be dead a half dozen times over, yet here I sit, awake at 5:30AM and pondering the concept of "life force". By all accounts, I got it easy.

AWKWARD FIST BUMPS

When I worked the door at the bar last weekend, I elected not to wear my arm sling. This accomplished two goals:

#1: Since it was so fucking cold, I could wear a proper jacket and take it off and on without looking like a 1st grader on his first day of school

#2: It would make random drunk people not ask "heeeeeeeey, wud happend to [burp] yuuuuuur arrmmmm?'

The lack of said sling mostly accomplished both goals. However, what it did not do, was to not make drunk, aggressive [albeit, mostly cool] guys issue me "manly" handshakes, hi-5's, fist bumps or a combination of 2, or 3 of the above. This is an unstated requirement of my job.

So...for this weekend of work, I decided to rawk the arm sling once again, cold weather, jacket/coat on/off procedures be damned! [Ed Note: I actually fear I fucked my shit up again by not wearing it as often as I should as of late]

Anyways, so tonight was supposed to be a slow night, but NO! Totally fucking busy. But here's where this is all headed: tonight one of Chicago's most awesome hip-hop stars that I admire the shit out of walked in. I spent many a days BUMPIN' his hits out of my dearly departed car.

And when he walked in and caught me off guard, he causally introduced himself to me, and I forgot about not using my gimpy right arm/hand to shake his hand, and proceeded to do so, and gave what must have been the weakest, most pussy-like handshake EVAH!

I tried compensating with a full hearted left handed fist bump to recover...but it didn't seem to fly. Sigh X 100,000!

PS - To the guy that bought HIMSELF 3 bottles of Cliquot Champagne...you made me feel way better about my own substance abuse issues.

NO REALLY...I'M GAY!

Some might remember the girl that was deemed too fucked up to remain in the bar I work at, thus she had to go. Well, last night her and her friend were back. Initiailly I wouldn't let them in, until drunk/crazy/bitch officially apologized to me for her earlier behavior. She also pointed out that she wasn't wearing heels, so after conferring with my manager I let them in.

And  they behaved! Well, mostly. The drunk/crazy/bitch girl's friend openly admittted to me that she was "rolling her nuts off" while petting my jacket. Then she asked me for my number. I just laughed in her face but then explained that we "don't play for the same team". HAHA - she thought I was just being a dick!

Anyways, I was sursprised to learn that people still employ the use of KNIVES to smoke pot with. I was re-taught this techinque at an "after-party" of sorts last night. Wow, that brought me back to 1997 or so. I left soon after though...I'm too old for that shit.  

If anyone has no clue what "knives" are, this is a handy tutorial:

Smoke Weed With Knives - The top video clips of the week are here

HAPPY 2009 BITCHES!

I really wanted my first blog post of 2009 to be special; like something earnest and deep and thoughtful. But as it turns out I did the opposite, sort of.

Got home tonight after a long day of tramping about the city. Finally, after 2 years or so of saying aloud I would do so, I visited the new Chicago History Museum with my buddy. The exhibits were predictable (Chicago Fire/World's Fair/Fort Dearborn, etc...all represented on the ink on my left arm, dur) but the artifacts were fucking awesome! A police helmet from the DNC riots? CTA "L" #1 train car? Abe Lincoln's death bed? Fucking cool. I ate that shit UP.

Afterwards, my buddy and I continued about the city, smoking, drinking. One friend's house turned into another, and by the time I got home, an hour ago, I was tired. But happy. With my curiosity sated. And my mind wired from strong herb.

So I did what usually do in such situations, and I made a nice Coke N' Whiskey, and smoked a Camel Light out on my back porch. While doing so I could hear the muted, "DEEP" conversation taking place on the landing below me between the neighbor's college aged son and some similar aged girl.

I wasn't trying to ease drop, but when the snow falls at night here in the Midwest, this curious thing happens, where loud city things turn quiet, and quiet things like conversations about "LIFE" turn less so. Not wanting to make my presence known to the point of intruding on these nice people's conversation, I stood still and quietly exhaled my cigarette.

But then...the enormous Chicken Caesar Salad I had a few hours prior caught up with my lower digestive track. And well:

A sounds not unlike a bugle emanated from my ass. I did my best to stifle my laughter, but I think it made things worse, and the young couple below me ended their discourse, and went back inside. Should I have apologized? I think it would have made an awkward situation worse.

So there you have it. My first post of the year. About farting...