FIRING ON ALL CYLINDERS

SO! It's a world wind of crazy bullshit the last 72 hours, but I'm somehow still standing, and smiling! Wednesday night I worked harder than I ever have; craft beer convention/beer nerds flocked to my place of employment like whoa, and all I did was wash pint glasses for the first 6 fucking hours I was there straight. No joke.

But I got paid like crazy in cold hard cash and closed that bitch down tight with a co-worker, so much so we got high and bonded over pot, shots of Jameson, awesome beer and Marlboro's. We stayed so late we had to offer the maintenance guy hush money not to tell on us. I got home around 6:30 in the fucking AM.

I was exhausted and looking forward to sleeping in, but my friend was in the area, and repeatedly rang my bell which woke me up around Noon. It was cool, we got lunch and then my 2 buds and I had to report the John Hancock building for this marketing survey I signed us up for. It's been some time since I've been stuck in a sterile conference room and I nearly had a panic attack, but got paid another $200 in cash for my efforts (as did my friends).

So I reported for duty at the nearest Lake View dive bar soon after (love you Joyce!) and then after met up with Mr. Butters, a friend I rarely get to see but always glad I get to when I do (LOVE YOU BUDDY). I tried pimping him out to some hotties, but I think I tried too hard.

On that note, I found me a little hottie who looks kinda like JD McCoy from Friday Night Lights! We started making out and one thing lead to another and I drove his Prius back to my place [children, please so not try this at home].

Much to my surprise he's bi-sexual, although I wouldn't know it by the things he did to me. And rather than fleeing my place like it was on fire this morning, we hung out together, watched some 30 Rock, got some food and made out like it was going out of style. He loves my bed, said so himself many times, and he's good at cuddling. And kissing. And other things that involve mouths.

That's it for now...just picked up a work shift so I gotta jet. Stay classy bitches.

BOOM CHICKA FUCKIN' BOOM

Sometimes I amaze myself. After an initial attempt to pick up some guy at a bar last night (that did not work out well at all) I returned home, and through the power of the interwebs, I found a hot, tall and super masculine guy not only in my neighborhood, but also one who had a big ol' bag of herb who wanted to smoke and make out.

P-E-R-F-E-C-T! X 10!

Oh man, shit was hot. At first we were just hanging out and watching "A Guide To Recognizing My Your Saints", but soon after we both agreed that Channing Tatum, while insanely hot, cannot act his way out of a paper bag.

So I did the only thing I could think of, which was to say to Paul (the guy that came over): "hey, why don't you sit next to me on the couch". Boom. Done son! It took about 10 minutes of sloppy hot making out before we both whipped our pants off and adjourned to my bedroom. We didn't fuck (I'm not THAT much of a slut) but we certainly enjoyed each other for about an hour.

I'm back in business, and business is good.

A PUBLIC NOTICE

If you're a man between the age of 21 and 40, and are Black, Latino or White, and have a decent body and fucked up sense of humor, consider yourself warned: I AM ON THE FUCKING WAR PATH. I felt it's only fair to give you all 24 hours notice (I have to work tonight) but if you're out and about tomorrow night, you might just encounter a sexually frustrated guy named Justin. And if you go back to his home (or yours) IT'S FUCKING ON like Donkey Kong. Feel free to lie about your name, your job and even provide me with a fake phone number. I honestly don't care. As long as you're flexible and have nice eyes, we're good to go. I'm not fucking around, we're gonna get our mutual FUCK on.

Don't say I didn't warn you...

1ST GIFT FROM A BOY!

Weeks ago I mentioned how I was not interested in dating the "part-time drag queen" Latino guy, "Pablo" as I named him. Well, we're still seeing each other, albeit on a fairly limited basis, as his school/work schedule is kicking his ass.

At the time, I decided I didn't want to date him, but over the last few weeks, he's proven to be such a nice and sweet guy. Case in point, he came over last night and presented me with an early Christmas present: an Aveda skin care gift set along with a $20 gift certificate to use at a salon (next haircut will not cost $7 and/or be performed by a Jordanian man).

Pretty neat! I was taken aback, as no other guy I dated really ever gave me a "real" present (except a b/j or buying me drinks, or dinner). He's so fun to cuddle with too; last night we laid in bed and watched an episode of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" and proceeded to get down! I even smoked a cigarette in my bedroom after we cleaned up (which I NEVER do).

I slept like a baby, which sucked when his alarm went off at 7AM, stealing from me not only his embrace, but the most awesome dream I ever had - which of course eludes me at this moment. Still, waking up in such a good mood was a seriously awesome feeling.

Sigh. So life isn't so shitty after all! And we have a movie date planned for Sunday afternoon. WOOT!

POPPERS? NO THANKS...

One of the more colorful stories/experiences from this past weekends' jaunt to Fire Island (aka, the gayest place on earth) involved me making out with the oldest, sorry, most "mature" man I have ever taken the pants off of. 

At the start of the night, my friend and I were waiting for a water taxi to take us to the Pines, when I struck up a conversation with a handsome guy, probably in his late 40's/early 50's. Nice guy....we talked about how this was my first time to the island, and the weather and blah, blah, blah. 

After my friend and her friends checked out this cabaret show, we took the last water taxi back to Cherry Grove (where we were staying). Handsome Guy was also waiting for the boat, and inquired about each other's evenings...

While on the rocky boat ride back, he did little things, like touch my thigh to empathize a point he was trying to make. Since I was drunk as hell I didn't mind, and I also, since I was drunk, I was being my charming self. 

Once we got back to the Grove, my friends and her friend went out for (more) drinks. Once they were tired I decided...WELL, WHY THE FUCK NOT? and knocked on Handsome Guy's door [NOTE: I'm not a stalker...earlier in the day I noticed his place was directly across from the place I was staying at]. 

He peeked through the curtains, and looked surprised, to say the least, to see me standing on his porch. Eagerly, he let me in, and after, um, 30 seconds of small talk we were making out on his bed. Pants came off and we were having fun...

...until, that is, he suggested we do some Poppers...to have "more fun". I was having plenty of fun as is, and didn't feel the need to add shady drugs into the mix. But he was insistent, and although drunk as all hell, I held my ground, got up, and put my pants on and walked the fuck out of that scene. 

FUCK THAT NOISE.  

I MAY HAVE LOCATED THE LARGEST DICK IN THE CHICAGOLAND AREA

Sooo...last night my friend asked me to accompany her to a "ladies night" thing at a local bar. I went and assumed I would bear witness to my hot friend (seriously, she's smokin') hitting on the ladies. Maybe, I thought there would be a few cute guys there to look at. 

And there was one in particular. Total was hottie there with 2 women; he felt excluded since his female friends were mackin' on my female friend. I was all "OMG!" hottie talking to me, right? I mean, we're talking Soap Opera quality ass here. But you know what? After a 1 minute conversation, I deemed this "dreamboat" a dud. I politely excused myself to duck out for a smoke....

...and while smoking outside, I started talking to this cute, kinda preppy, tall as SHIT guy. Turns out it was his birthday. 1 jello shot (ugh) turned into 8, or 9, I don't know, but next thing I DO know, I was making out with this guy at the bar, and the lesbians around us were burning holes through us with their eyes. 

And then....WE DANCED! I fucking hate dancing. I'd almost rather get a cavity drilled (sans Novocaine) than dance in public, but I did. Fuck it. I was having (drunk) fun so I figured why not?

Well, the end of the night came, we exchanged digits, but then I suggested (more like slurred) let's watch a movie! Which we did. Kinda. About 3 minutes into "Y tu mama tambien" our pants were off...and right there...stood before me...THE BIGGEST COCK I HAVE EVER SEEN. Holy bullshit, I mean, imagine a tallboy can of beer...yeah. Like that. It caught me so off guard I reflexively stated "no way is that ever going inside of me". 

We didn't even have "sex-sex", instead we just made out and got each other off until the sun came up. I'm in mild shock, hungover (or maybe still drunk from the Jello shots) and now I have to help a friend move furniture. FUCK. 

But it's cool...cuz I got a movie date tomorrow night! WOOT. 

I'M A VERY HAPPY BOY

My date last night went extraordinarily well. Before I left my place I totally stressed about what to wear and had a minor fashion emergency, but finally settled on a black T, skater jeans and my Supermods.

Because of my indecision regarding what to wear I was running a bit late. But while I was hunting for a parking spot (he took the train) Tony texted me right as I got out of my car (random!). I was expecting to see him inside the bar, drink in hand, but I found him waiting for me at the door (how sweet).

Since it's been almost 9 months since I last laid eyes on him, I was pleasantly surprised to see him looking hotter than I remembered. Oh, and he wearing almost the same outfit I was!

Outside of physical appearances, we seemed to pick up where we left off. Conversation was easy and not at all forced, all in all I felt really at ease with him, and his body language seemed to suggest he felt the same way (casual physical contact and all that). We had a few beers, and since the bar where we were at was dead, we went to another place.

Midway through our first round, I casually suggested we head back to my place, and almost before I could finish my question he said "yeah, sure" [interior WOOT].

I put on a movie and laid down on my couch. Since I didn't want to assume anything was going to happen I decided to sit a few feet away from him on the other side of the couch, but he quickly nixed that idea and he pulled towards him. We got through about 30 minutes of "The Bourne Supremacy" before we started a full on make out session, which led us to my bedroom.

OK - we didn't have "sex". But somehow we managed to make out, naked, for over an hour. Hot damn. Tony's body was always nice, but he's been working out hard core and goddamn it shows. Another thing I noticed was that I seemed to remember his scent. Not necessarily his cologne or deodorant, maybe his pheromones (we were sweating like crazy) but it got me so hot.

The night ended with the most intense orgasm I've had in at least a year. Hot shit indeed! Who knows where this will lead, but at least we have plans to meet up again later this week for dinner and drinks.

THE $277.27 MAKE OUT SESSION

My little tryst on Sunday Night just become the most expensive one ever, if not one of the most random.

There we were on the couch, high off smoking some kind bud and watching "Rebel Without a Cause" and I suddenly notice all these pictures hanging on the wall of the guy that invited me over...along with another guy in various "couple-like" poses.

ME: "Um, hey, who is that guy in those pictures with you?"
GUY THAT INVITED ME OVER: [non-nonchalantly] "Oh, that's my boyfriend."
ME: "...."
GUY THAT INVITED ME OVER: [reading a look of confusion and mild shock on my face] "oh, haha, it's totally cool, we have an open relationship."
ME: "...."
GUY THAT INVITED ME OVER: "...really, it's not a big deal, besides, it's not like we're going to fuck or anything, right?"
ME: "naw, naw, that is NOT going to happen..."

I thought of leaving at that point, and perhaps I should have, but on some level, it kinda turned me on. Still, I treaded lightly and didn't make any moves until we just sort of gravitated towards one another, and the physical space between on the couch grew less so...

In the back of my mind I kept waiting for dude's better half to come bursting through the door, although I was told that would not be happening, and do his credit, it did not.

After I got used to the situation, we started touching each other in little subtle ways. His knee would brush up against mine, my hang would graze his knee, and before I knew it we launched into a full fledged make-out session.

The one slight problem is that we both were wearing our glasses, and they kept bumping against each other (hot nerd-like make out session!) so we paused take our glasses off, not really paying attention to where they landed. After doing our thing for at least an hour (and mind you, no oral/anal took place) it was 3AM and I needed to go home.

While gathering my shit and putting my clothes back on I couldn't find my glasses. Since I'm blind as a bat I enlisted the help of Guy That Invited Me Over to find them. You would think my glasses would have been next to his, but they were not. Damn you heat of the moment!

We pulled apart his couch, the bed in the spare room, moved furniture, basically it looked liked the DEA had raided his place when we where done looking, and they are still missing. Poof! My specs vanished into the either, presumably never to be seen again. I hope his boyfriend doesn't find them...that could be awkward, to say the least.

So, rather than cry about it, I just went to my optometrist and threw down almost $300 that I don't have on a new pair. I'd be pissed about it, but then again, I've been meaning to get a new pair for some time, and I really like the new pair I picked out, so I guess it's all good. "C'est la vie" muthafuckahs!

MY SLUTTY NIGHT WITH A ROWER

This post is dedicated to the anonymous reader who left this comment: "Seems like every other post is about booze, pot, or music. Where is the sex?"

While I have made the conscious decision to not blog about my more recent sexual exploits, I will share particular experience that occurred last July. Previously, I posted a brief summary of the hot shit that transpired, but since it seems that all I post about are boring things, let's take a deeper look back at the Hottest Night of My Life.

If graphic depictions of guys having crazy sex bothers you, this would be a good time to hit the refresh button on your browser.

It was a hot, humid night last July, and although the beer in my hand was cold, watching the Cubs game while laying on my leather couch in an un-air-conditioned apartment was less than satisfying. Thus, I opted to watch the rest of the game at Crew.

Seeing as this was a night game on a Thursday Night my plan was to have a few pints and go home early. However, my eye was drawn to a tall, good looking frat boy type. Since I wasn't "looking" I remained perched on my bar stool and sipped beer while cheering on the Cubs.

After about 30 minutes, the hot frat boy guy hovered near me and tapped me on the shoulder and asked "hey man, do you shoot pool?". Why yes, yes I do. We introduced ourselves to one another and he got $5 worth of quarters. At this point I'm thinking "holy shit this is awesome, this guy is hot as fuck but this is probably just a friendly thing.

And it was. Half way into our first game he asks me if I'm single and I say am but when I pose the same question to him, he responds that he "kind of" has a boyfriend.

Upon further questioning he reveals that his "kind of" boyfriend is his Crew coach that he fucks from time to time. he wants more of a commitment than his coach/fuck-buddy/BF is willing to offer, and all of a sudden I thought that I was transported into some sort of bad plot line to a gay porno.

Crew guy proceeds to ask me why I'm single. He tells me that a good looking guy such as my self [blushing at this point] should not be alone and that any number of guys would consider themselves lucky to be with me.

Seeing as he was drunk I shook this praise off as him humoring me. But then he announces that he is going to find me a guy to go home with, that very night.

"Let's ditch this place and hit up Boystown" he says, and we do, eventually arriving at good ol' Sidetrack. But since it was close to 1AM on a weeknight, the place is fairly dead.

He encourages me to approach several guys, and though I do, I find none appealing. At one point I remarked, "why would I want to talk to these other guys, I'm already talking to the hottest guy in the room".

He smiles, we finish our drinks and leave. He gives me vague directions to his friend's place but we can't find it, and agree to go back to my place.

Within seconds of entering my apartment he grabs me by the back of my neck and we start making out. I lead him towards my bedroom while taking his jeans off, and responds in kind. Tongues everywhere on each others body and soon we're both naked and sweaty due to the lack of A/C and sheer lust.

"Get 2 ties and a t-shirt" he says. "For what?" I ask but do it anyway. He uses my old Brooks Brothers tie to tie my wrists together behind my head, another shitty tie from Target to tie my ankles together and then blindfolds me with the t-shirt. He then goes down on me and gets me close, but then backs off and says "OK - nice to meet you, I'm taking your keys, wallet and cell phone, good luck getting un-tied".

For a moment I panicked, trying to get loose from the tight knots he tied, but I can also still sense that he is still in the room and watching me squirm. After about 30 seconds I decide to lay still and he busts out laughing saying "got you!" and un-ties me and removes the blindfold.

We make out a little bit but in the process I grab a tie and get his hands together behind he head, turn him over and fuck him for at least 30 minutes in an assortment of positions, eventually firing my cum all over his hot body.

Both of us spent, breathing deeply and covered in sweat he goes "I want to show you something". Still in a daze i ask what and he responds that he really, REALLY wants to show me his Crew Uni. I'm again thinking this is something out of a porno, and decline, seeing as it's 3AM and I have go to work in the morning, but he refuses to take no for an answer.

Exhausted, but curious I drive us over to his place, letting him smoke in my car on the way (I don't smoke in my car, but seeing as I just fucked him, I didn't car). We arrive and gets out of my car and says he'll be right back. 10 minutes later he's back in my passenger seat, dressed just as he was before.

Then he unzips his tight jeans, and takes my hand, placing it on his now Lycra encased thigh. "Feels good, right?" is perhaps among the most redundant questions I've ever been asked.

He then removes this jeans, we make out and then he abruptly stops, opens the car door and gets in the back seat of my car. Keep in mind that I drive a small Japanese hatchback.

I'm thinking this is not practical, but then I'm also glad I brought a pocketful of condoms with me. We begin to awkwardly fuck in my backseat but it was then getting light out and doing what we were doing, parked on a residential street was not a smart move.

"I have an idea, follow me" and I do while pulling my pants on and crawling out of my car. We go into his apartment building, but not to his place proper. He has roommates, he says, so we enter the basement which is under construction with exposed framed walls and sawdust everywhere.

Improvising with my dick in my hand, I bend him over a saw-horse and we go at it again. I have to cover his mouth with my hand because of the voices he was making, but 15 minutes or so later, I cum again, big time, all over the place, as does he.

We practically on one another at that point but say nothing but breath heavily on each other's necks. It's now 6AM and we both have to work in just a few hours, so we reluctantly get dressed, exchange numbers and depart.

The drive home was bizarre to say the least. Here I am stuck in early morning rush hour looking every inch of a whore, bumping Mos Def and smoking with all my windows down. I didn't get much sleep night/day, probably less than an hour, but I still got to work on-time, and damn if I didn't have a stupid grin on my face the whole day.

I still have his underwear...

THE NEW GUY

Meeting guys in gay bars while intoxicated is always a dicey proposition; while I've been lucky thus far in that I haven't met/kissed/made out/had sex with anyone that I really regret (well, except this fucking asshole) I have usually had the benefit of a friend in which to vet the guys I met, and so far it's been "thumbs up".

However, on Sunday Night I was at a particular Boystown establishment, this guy struck up a conversation with me.

The friend I met at the bar was off somewhere talking to some guy and I was enjoying a drink (one that I did not need at that point) and watching a few geeked out homos gyrate on the dance floor.

The guy standing next to me starting talking to me and the first thing I thought was, DAMN, this boy is fine. The second thing that struck me was his accent whose origin I couldn't trace. Russian? Italian? Latino? Mind you, I'm not so good at pinpointing such things, but it was also loud as hell.

Anyways, we talk and talk (and I ask and ask him to repeat himself) and I tip back yet another drink. Finally, I realized it was way past my bed time and decided to leave, as did he and since he lived nearby I offered to walk him home.

Once I got him out in the streetlight I thought once again, DAMN, this boy is fine! He kind of (and I stress kind of) looks like a smaller version of LA Dodger Nomar Garciaparra. When he arrive at his place we exchange phone numbers and at that point I realize I forgot his name (fuck) so I labeled his # as "Hot Guy". Then we made out.

Really, I was expecting him to be like so many other gay guys you meet in bars who seem cool but ultimately turn out to be flakes. But on my ride home from work on Monday the iPone goes ring-ring and up pops "Hot Guy" on the display. Word!

He said he wanted to see me again and I told him where to find me, but alas he never showed. I figured this would be the end of this potential relationship, but lo and behold he texts me on my lunch break on Tuesday asking me what I am doing later that night.

Now, I must admit that his text messages totally confused me. Example:

Him: "Holo"
Me: "Hey man, what's up?"
Him: "A hospero work"
Me: "What are you doing around 9PM?"
Him: "A Homo you Goot A bar"

[I have since realized that he seems to text phonetically...if you read those sentence fragments aloud it sounds like how he talks, Dayum!, his accent turns me on]

Since the texting made little to no sense I called him when I got home and we made plans to meet up where we first met on Sunday Night. I got there before he did and with every passing minute I got more and more nervous. Would I recognize him? Would I recoil in horror? Would he recognize me? Would HE recoil in horror?

Finally, after 20 minutes of this thought process I look over and notice a hot guy with spikey jet black hair, olive skin and a nice ass. It was him. We locked eyes, he did the head nod and soon after we embraced. WOOT!

That night we watched the highly entertaining Drag Queen show, got to know one another more and the as time t I the "holy shit why is he talking to me" thing faded and I felt really comfortable around him.

Although I there were a lot of things he said that I didn't quite get (lots of "oh really" on my behalf - again it was really loud in there) I stole furtive glances at subtle things like how the muscles in his neck looked when we turned his head, or how when he laughed he would drag his tongue stud against his lower lip.

That night I drove him home and parked in front of his place that he sometimes shares with his gay father (sound familiar?) which is a gorgeous vintage gray stone apartment building overlooking Lake Michigan.

We talked for close to a 1/2 hour, then made out for almost as long. Mmmmmm, I love kissing boys in parked cars, especially mine! Eventually he left,, which is a good idea seeing as he had to report for work at 3AM.

Who works such insane hours? People that work at hospitals. He had gone into great (and for me far too) detailed explanation about the process of birth. Here I'm thinking he's a nurse or maybe even a resident.

But then we met up again the next night and after he introduced me to his friend that works at the same hospital I realized this was not the case. Said friend asked me "oh, are you a doctor too?". Holy shit, he's a fucking doctor!

If you cannot tell, my head is spun around this guy. I'm about to meet him again tonight and I can't wait to kiss that hot studded tongue again. Or feel his sleek body. Or have him evoke my name breathlessly. Or smell his cologne...OK, I'll stop now!

But before I do, let's get an update on my hair...which just got cut about an hour ago (gotta look sharp for this guy!).

Although I choose option #1 (no big surprise there) but when I sat down in the barber chair today, my trusty Syrian barber asked "#2 blade all over?" and I said "no, let's go shorter, how about a #1 3/4 blade?" but he insisted on using the #1 1/2 blade.

My hair has never been this short. Any shorter and it would be gone, but I really like how it looks and my barber enthusiastically agreed saying "is good blade, nice length for you" while rubbing my head a bit longer than necessary. That's a good sign, right?

I THINK I DESERVE A BLOWJOB

I don't even know where to begin. It's been a long and exhausting last 6 or 7 days, so let's just go down the list in chronological order...

Last Wednesday I woke up for work, and didn't feel so good. When I got out of bed, I nearly fell over. Then I quickly realized I had to puke, thus very awkward stumble to the bathroom began, and ended with me passed out on the cold tile floor. Sometime later I decided to try and take a shower, but gave up for fear that I would fall and hit my head on the tub. None of the was fun. Or pretty.

My now naked, wet, shivering excuse for a body crawled back to bed, and there it stayed, until 3PM. Needless to say, I didn't go to work that day. However, I did throw up again (this was the mother load) and slowly felt a little bit better. Thursday morning I still felt like shit, but I made myself go to work, and by the end of the day I felt almost like myself.

This was a good thing because I had tickets to see Bon Iver later that night. I met up with my friend at a cozy little lesbian bar called the Closet, had a drink, then walked a few blocks down to the Lakeshore Theater. Nice place. The opening band was terrible, but when Justin Vernon got up on stage, everyone got very quiet. In fact, the audience was nearly silent the whole time, and Justin's amazing voice filled the room.

Seriously. Awesome. Shit.

Friday I heard from my insurance company. The total for the damage to my car? Oh, let's round slightly up: $6,000. And since my car is no longer in Production, and it was built in Japan (and where all the parts must come from), the body shop thinks it might be ready by May 4. FUCK!

After I hung up with them I immediately called Enterprise Rent-A-Car and told them there is no way in hell I am driving a fucking Chrysler Pacifica for another 3+ weeks. 4 days of tooling around the city in that Mommy-Mobile was more than enough for me. So instead they gave me a silver Pontiac G6. With chrome wheels. Argh. Not a great car, but an improvement no less.

I decided I was going to stay in on Friday Night and do shit around the apartment. Roomie was set to move out on Saturday and the place was a mess, and nearly all my clothes were dirty. I must say, spending a Friday Night at the laundry mat is depressing, but at least it was quiet. Around 11PM my Bro's Ex-GF invited me out to meet her and her friends out for drinks. I agreed, but reluctantly on account of the rain.

The L got to me to Lakeview just shy of Midnight and I made my way to the Mexican place they were hanging out at. Of coarse when I get there, no one is there and the place is about to close for the night. Damnnit. Had Bro's Ex-GF had the decency to answer her phone I would have known that they were at a bar across the street.

Since I was not-really-dressed-up-with-no-where-to-go I called a friend that lives in Boystown, and walked over there to get a drink. Not a huge fan of Sidetrack, but what the hell, why not go and check out some boys. I find my friend got a drink when someone grabbed my shoulder, and it was my friend that went with me to the concert on Thursday Night!

I think I stayed there until about 2AM-ish and I was planning on going home but my friend had other ideas. Since I had several rum and cokes in my bloodstream he convinced me to go the late night club, Charlie's. Never been there before and didn't really want to, as it always struck me as being very seedy.

Regardless, I went and managed to have a good time. There were lots of drugged out homo's, some drunks, some seriously hot guys and then there was me. Since I don't dance I mainly hung out on the sidelines and got drunk and eye fucked people like the whore I secretly am.

Eventually, and I'm not sure how, I ended up on the...dance floor (GASP) and into a what can only be described as a homosexual mosh pit of sorts. People were kinda dancing but defiantly grabbing one another and I ended up making out with some random guy I thought was hot (and my friend later confirmed this). Pretty sure he was tall with dark hair and nice lips. I have no idea what his name is and I am sure I will never see him again.

I'm told I also kissed another guy, but alas my memory fails me. I guess I am a whore after all. We closed out the club around 4AM and took a cab home, and got home around 4:45AM. Long night that was.

And then Roomie woke me up at 9AM (argh!) to start moving her furniture out. She thoughtfully bought breakfast for her crew which consisted of her BF, our friend and me. After we ate I made us all screwdrivers (yum!) and we got high. At 10:30AM. Jesus...

At least her stuff was light and all her small things were already moved out. The highlight of that move was when I was carring a really fucking heavy box of books, and smashed my left hand in a door frame. "Ouch" I thought to myself but only later did I look down to see the blood pouring out of my hand, which is when I noticed the trail of blood behind me. Fun!

Then since I hadn't had my fill of moving I took the cargo van and drove 35 miles north of Chicago to clearout 1 of my Dad's storage lockers. His furniture was not as light as Roomies. In fact, it was Really Fucking Heavy.

Thankfully my friend Bear offered to help me out, and since he was going to a show in the city later that night, he offered to come back to my place and move the new shit in. We finally got done around 7PM, and although most sane people would have called it a day, I decided to join Bear at the show.

The Boweevils used to be one of the greatest Chicago Punk Rock bands in the late 90's, and I used LOVE seeing them live. After the lead singer quit the band to attend Med School (seriously) the band broke up, but every so often they get back together for show or 2.

Man, drinking cans of shitty beer and having losing more of my hearing is a hell of a lot of fun. The show was at the Double Door which totally kicks ass - easily one of the best venues in Chicago. The place was packed which all sorts of people, including some really hot guys. You know, Chicago needs some sort of a gay punk bar...sigh.

That was another late night, and Bear and I didn't get back to my place until 3AM. Whew! All of Sunday was spent moving stuff around and cleaning my place. You have no idea how much cat hair I found hiding behind the furniture; I'm talking softball sized hair balls!

Despite how sore I am (pretty sure I did something really bad to my left shoulder as even typing hurts) it's totally worth it. Roomie has an awesome new place around the corner from me, and I get to walk around without wearing any pants. WOOT!

48 HOUR ROUNDUP

This has been another long and exhausting yet thoroughly entertaining weekend in good ol' Chi-Town. Here's a quick blow-by-blow:

THE DATE

My Friday night date went very well, although not exactly according to plan. Since we really could not find a movie that we could both agree on, and since we were starving we opted to go out and have dinner rather than fight the crowds at the multiplex. JT came over and we had a drink than walked through the little downtown section of my neighborhood, with me playing the role of the tour guide pointing out interesting architecture, funky little shops and the bars and restaurants.

Finally we settled on a simple bar/grill were we drank beers, people watched (we got my favorite table which is surrounded by windows and 3 sides) and ate good food. He ordered a cheese steak sandwich, I had the grilled cheese.

Afterwards we walked around some more to burn off our heavy meals. Rather than sit in one of several crowded, noisy bars, we hit up the liquor store and went back to my place. We drank, listened to music and flirted with one another. Eventually we moved into the to the other room and put in a DVD. We settled on "Jarhead" since JT had never seen it (not to mention I will never tire of seeing Jake without his shirt on).

I must say I prefer watching movies at home as opposed to the theater. Whereas the a movie theater has the huge screen, stadium seating and popcorn, I have an acceptable TV, booze and comfy couch to make out on! Towards the end of the movie JT's eyes were getting heavy so I suggested we lay down. It didn't take him long to wake up and we had some "fun" although we kept it PG-13.

Roomie's cat woke me up around 7AM, crying because he was hungry. I reluctantly unwrapped my arms from JT and fed the little fuzzball, than climbed back in bed and went back to sleep for another 3 hours. Upon opening my eyes I was reminded that I am not in fact dreaming and traced my fingers alongside still sleeping JT's back. Eventually he awoke and I gave him a nice good morning kiss. Damn I like this boy! I would have been more than content to lay there all day with him, but alas, he had things to do and so did I. Sigh.

THE NOT SO FUN PART OF THE WEEKEND

Saturday afternoon I (finally) dropped off the rent check, did some shopping and did a ton of laundry at the laundry mat. Ugh, I fucking hate doing laundry with a sincere passion but at I got to watch the Cubs stomp on the Mets (in your face Billy!). The Mets gave up 5 runs in the 3rd inning and I went home grinning ear to ear. We won 6-2. Hells yeah!

THE BIRTHDAY PARTY

Saturday evening my buddy MarK picked me up to go to our mutual friend's 30th birthday party. Friend's wife selected a "Sopranos" theme for the party and asked everyone to dress up like characters from the show (birthday boy kinda looks like Tony, only Jewish). Since I don't own a jogging suit and I don't wear suits except for funerals or weddings, I elected to dress up like my normal self, in a t-shirt and jeans.

This was a family/friends affair so I knew very few people. Friend's Mom said hello to me and called me Ryan. "Mom" friend said, "his name is Justin". "Well, I knew it ended with an N" she said. Following this exchange I made a beeline for the beer tub. My newly 30 year old friend has 3 brothers in law who are triplets. I know one of them is gay but I can never tell them apart, however, while I was walking over to the beer tub the gay one, who was laying on a couch spotted me. "Heeeey Justin" said he. "Hey man, whats crackin'?" said I. We chatted for a moment but I spotted another friend who I hadn't spoken to yet and I excused myself.

Although I always feel awkward at these family/friends parties, I must say that I had a great time and ate some terrific Italian food (friend's wife can cook like non other).

We left at 9:30 and headed back to the city.

THE SHOW

The plan for the rest of the night was to head down to Wicker Park and see a free show at the Double Door. MarK is awesome about finding out about these things and last night was no exception. Rhapsody.com was hosting a private post-Lollapalooza gig featuring Ted Leo & the Pharmacists, Chin-Up Chin-Up and the Ponys.

We rushed to get back to his place, had a drink and some smoke then hopped on the Western Ave bus and headed south. It was a bit of walk from the bus stop to the venue and I was worried the place would fill up before we could get there. To get in to this show all one had to do was RSVP on-line (you couldn't buy a ticket even if you wanted to) but it was still first come first serve and we got there at 11PM, an hour after the doors opened.

Not to worry, they found our names on the list and we were rewarded with wrist bands. Said magical wrist bands had 2 little tabs on it labeled "DRINK" which I redeemed for some Red Stripes (free music + free beer = happy me!).

Less than 5 minutes after getting inside Ted Leo and his band stormed the stage and proceeded to RAWK THE FUCK OUT. This was the first time I had ever seen him live and he did not disappoint. It helped that he was playing at one of the best sounding venues in Chicago but dude was amped (coked up?) up and wailed around the stage. Awesome.

During set break I noticed a smokin' hot guy with spiky blond air standing next to me. We started talking about music and Lollapalooza. Turns out dude is some kind of important music industry executive and spent the whole day behind the various stages at Lollapalloza and at various VIP shin-digs. I always thought these types of guys were douche bags but he couldn't be nicer.

While talking he extended his hand introduced himself as "Mike". About once every 5 seconds I had to remind myself that I only have eyes for JT and that Mike was likely straight. Eventually the lights dimmed and the The Ponys came on and started rocking out with furious abandon. Gotta give it up for the local boys!

MarK disappeared while I was talking to Mike (more like screaming in his ear over the loud music) but reappeared with 2 Fat Tire bombers. Pinch me! Needless to say I was drunk off my ass at this point and past the point of caring about the heat in the barely air conditioned place. I wanted to stay and watch the next set and continue talking to Mike but MarK was getting tired (pussy!) and we left around 2AM.

Whew, busy weekend. I need to go the gym and burn some carbs. Hopefully the universe will allow JT to have some time to hang out tonight, but I know he's super busy babysitting (awwww) and he has more family functions later this evening. Sigh. Hope you are all having a great weekend and staying cool. It's hot as shit here in Chicago...

If you're interested in what the hotness that is Ted Leo & The Pharmacists sounds like, click here to see a video of their song "Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone" (I would embed the video but Blogger is in a bitch of a mood).

THE SUMMER OF LOVE (2007 EDITION) ROLLS ON

Well, I went out to the local gay bar last night and met another guy. Now, keep in mind that I don't go to this bar that often but when I do I usually sit in "my spot". Why it is my spot? For one thing, it affords me a commanding view of 3 plasmas showing various baseball games and it's about in the middle of the bar, meaning that I have a nice view of the crowd on my left, and the crowd on my right. After I settled in and ordered a beer from the adorable bartender whom seems to recognize me now (I usually tip him really well) and look to my right, 2 bar stools down and there sits a cute white guy sporting a light beard and a sleeveless t-shirt. He seems to be scanning the room but for the first few minutes I just sip my beer and suck down a Camel.

Suavely I lean over and ask "hey, you shoot pool?". No response. "Hey man..." and again there is no response. I realize it's not that he's being rude but it's just loud and apparently I wasn't projecting my voice. A minute or two passes, he looks in my general direction and we make eye contact. "Hey...you...shoot...pool?" I say. "Well, I'm not too good but sure, whatever..." says the cute boy that I think slightly (ever-so) resembles Justin Timberlake. He pauses and says something else but I can't hear a damn thing so I get up off my stool and sit on the one next to him. We introduce ourselves.

Over small talk someone steals the lone pool table (dude shooting pool alone, mind you) but frankly I don't care since I'm sitting next to JT-Lite. We order a round of beers and discover the following things we both have in common: a) we grew in about the same area, b) we both went to Catholic elementary school, and c) we both did some theater work in high school (how gay!). For the next hour and a half we don't stop talking, not even for a moment. I had had enough beer but the adorable bartender poured me another and told me it was on him (thanks man!).

We shared the last beer and I ask him if he wants to take a walk. He does. Walking down the street I see a black Porsche 911 Turbo parked and I casually walk towards it, reach into my pocket for my keys and say "we'll, here's where I'm parked" (it's an old joke of mine, and a really cheesy one) and he laughs and playfully hits me in the arm. We keep walking and realize that we are now in the shady part of this neighborhood and circle back. I walk over to where I'm parked and ask him if he wants a ride but he thinks I'm kidding again. I am not. This really is my car!

Predictably, we end up back at his place. JT-Lite lives alone in a studio on the 12th floor of a building near the lake. It's an old hotel turned into apartments and it's got a nice view of the busy city below. He bemoans his lack of beer or booze but I tell him it's cool, we've both had more a few already. He puts on some music (Elliot Smith, I'm impressed) and we keep talking, and talking. Turns out he went to school to be a massage therapist (cha-ching!) and rubs my shoulders and then, well, we make out. For an hour. All I'll say is that I was a good boy and kept it in my pants, which is quite the feat considering I wasn't wearing any.

Eventually we drifted off to sleep, nakedly holding one another. It was pretty fucking sweet. I stayed the night and cursed his alarm clock when it went off at 7AM. Somehow I made it to home in time to take a shower, feed the cats and even make a sandwich for work. We've been texting here and there all day and we have plans to see a movie tonight. Score! I don't care what we see as long as I'm sitting next to him in a dark room, (with the exception of the Harry Potter movie). This guy is awesome and doesn't seem like the flash in the pan/Crew Guy type. He seems genuine and really sweet. Cute laugh too.

This is random, but remarkable nonetheless: JT-Lite has too younger brothers and all 3 of them are gay! Talk about a gay trifecta!

PS - You Deserve A Blowjob will be taking the week off.

HOLY SHIT

I've been a bad, bad boy....

Last night I went to a local gay bar and while watching the Red Sox-Sox game I noticed a cute boy sitting at the end of the bar talking to the bartender (they appeared to be friends). I really wanted to go and ask him if he wanted to shoot pool but before I found my nerve he vanished. "Damn" I thought "you're such a pussy Justin!". I finished my beer and although the place was dead I ordered another. Moments later the cute guy reappears. I glanced over at him and then, and then, he walks over and says "hey man wanna shoot pool?" Well yes, yes I do I said perhaps too eagerly.

Admittedly I purposely threw 2 games just so I could continue talking to him. He just moved to Chicago from Boston and was flying out early in the morning to go to a family reunion in Austin (hells yeah JR!) and told me he was a nervous flyer, thus he wanted to get drunk so he could sleep on the flight tomorrow (I do this too - although I'm not a nervous flyer, haha).

It was getting late and I told him I had to get up early for work and asked him if he needed a ride. He responded that he did - to a friend's place that happened not to be too far from my place. Well, he couldn't remember the address, so, I took "pity" on him and brought him to my place where we engaged in various activities that used to be against the law in some states (I like to think I fought the law but I won, haha).

After driving him home, I didn't get back until 6:30AM. Oh, and his underwear is in the back seat of my car (and last I saw he was wearing mine). Needless to say, work is a bit of a distraction today, but I'm hanging in there.

Holy Fucking Shit! I'm levitating right now...

SPEAKING OF BLOWJOBS...

In the past I have refrained from blogging in detail about my sexual exploits, and will likely continue to refrain from doing so in the future; I have always thought that if one is seeking to read in detail about someones sexual exploits there is a plethora of other websites from which to glean such stories. Having said that this one detail is too noteworthy not to boast about.

Before heading out the door to meet Marco and his friend for drinks I repeated this mantra to myself, "I will keep it in my pants tonight, I will keep it in my pants tonight".

Since Marco brought his friend I brought one of mine and we drank a few beers, and after my 4th Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPA (best beer ever!), Marco's friend abruptly left, (a quick aside, Marco's friend asked me what my nationality was and I replied that I'm German. Earlier in the day I got my hair buzzed off again, and he remarked that I could pass as "one of Hitler's Youth". Was that some sort of back-handed compliment? Weird).

Anyways, I really wasn't feeling the vibe from Marco. And my buddy gave me the outsiders perspective, which is that we just don't seem to mesh well. I don't disagree, though I like hanging out with him in general. Still, the 3 of us went back to my friends place, had some drinks and smooooked a little. It was getting late and since neither myself nor Marco drove we walked back to my place.

My plan of action of action was just to hang out, sober up a bit and bid goodnight to Marco. After turning on the TV he asked me to turn it off stating "no, we should just talk". I knew what would happen if I did, but he protested and I complied.

Talking quickly turned into making out, which quickly turned into him on his knees in front of me.Since this progression took place in under 1 minute I didn't have a chance to put down the beer I was holding. This might make sense if I add that I have a big, and rather comfy leather couch but since I was in the middle seat I couldn't reach the end table.

Not wanting to interrupt Marco I leaned back and got a statisfying blowjob while sipping the beer in my right hand. Had there been a steak in my left hand I could have died happy right there and then.

In retrospect I'm glad that I did not, in fact, have a steak in my left hand, because had I died I would not have been able to wake up today and watch "Rebel Without a Cause", read the Sunday paper or watch the Cubs beat the living shit out of the Milwaukee Brewers.

It's good to be alive.

THE BITCH IS BACK!

Driving home in my sexy bitch of a ride from the body shop, I choose to play the dirtiest gangsta rap I had on my iPod. This seemed to elicit "fuck you punk ass" looks from random people at stoplights, but my response was to turn it up more and roll my windows down more.

Stare back hard.

Having been 6 days removed from my auto, I fell in love with my car all over again. The tight little steering wheel, the black leather all over and the ability to rev the engine to 8500 RPM, damn! I love it. My baby is back in my arms and better than ever.

Sigh.

DAMN, ONE HELLOF A WEEKEND

Whew, where do I start? Oh yeah, so I had tickets to see this band play on Friday night, but the music is super chill, which was the opposite of my mood after a looooong week of work.

A friend was going to join me then bailed at the last second so I reconsidered my options and decided it might be more fun to go back to the "gay sports bar" that I was at the night before for "Frat Boy Friday Night".

Once a month anyone with the balls (quite literally) to strut about on stage in nothing but a jockstrap. 1st place wins $300, 2nd gets a $50 bar tab and 3rd gets a smiley face sticker (actually, I'm not sure what 3rd gets, other than slim bragging rights).

On my way to the bar I get a call from 2 friends I haven't seen in some time. For the second time in 24 hours I brought straight friends into a gay bar. After the Fashion Show debacle from the night before I was again a little nervous about this.

I never came out to these 2 friends in particular so them meeting me at a gay bar was a bit odd, but once we all met up all was good. There was no awkwardness, with the exception of the guy that ran the jockstrap contest who asked me at least 5 times if I would compete.

Clipboard Holding Guy: "Man, 1st place wins $300 bucks!"
Me: "uh, yeah, that sounds nice and all, but I'm not that drunk or broke."
Clipboard Holding Guy: "Come on, it's $300 bucks!"
Me: "I gotta piss, be right back."

And so on and so forth. He must have had a hard time recruiting guys, because I seriously doubt I am jockstrap 1st place worthy. Oh well. At least the bartenders played their part and removed their shirts. I was one happy homo perched at the bar but my straight friends wanted to get high so we left around Midnight before the "frat boys" made their debut.

My disappointment was overshadowed by my willingness to do whatever my friends wanted to do since it's been so long since we've seen each other's faces.

We split and smoked a spliff back at my place. 3 weeks or so had passed since I last got high so needless to say I was lit up. We listened to music (more like I had fun of theirs) and the next thing I knew it was morning. Sunshine. Birds chirping. 80 fucking degrees. It was a nice day and I was feeling good.

So good in fact that I sent this text message to the infamous PD: "Whoa, spring has sprung!". He had been texting me alot lately and I decided it was time to set things right between us. We never got to the official "BF" level but we also never really "broke up" either.

For some reason I thought it was a good idea for us to hang out and hit up Boystown. PD was all about it and we made plans to meet up around 10PM.

Once he walked through the door I knew it was over even before it even started. For one thing he smelled so good and looked even better. over a few beers we caught up and headed out around 11PM. After riding the L we found a nice Alley to piss in (this has got to be a Chicago tradition of sorts) and paid the $5 cover for the gay bar.

Place was packed with hotties all over! After grabbing some drinks (a vodka red bull for him, a bottle of Miller Lite for me) we found a nice place to sit, smoke and talk. I finally made the attempt to set things right with him and me, which is that although I'm totally attracted to him, and although I like him outside of our sex life, I'm wishing to test the waters, as it were.

PD was cool with this. We played Truth or Dare and kept daring one another to ask random guys out. It was fun, and we talked alot about who our ideal man is/looks like and pointed out examples to back up our thoughts.

At one point he eyed a friend who mentioned that Michael McDonald was there. PD's friend dared me to talk to him and well, I did. Tapped him right on the shoulder and he was nice and all, but whatever dude he was with/friend got all weirded out and asked me point blank who I was.

Random Dude; "Ah, who are you?"
Me: "I know Michael, we worked on a film together" (which is true)
Random Dude: "Yeah, uh, OK, then..."

Random Dude left and Michael asked me if I had spoken to the director of the film, which I hadn't since the wrap party. He was nice but seemed to have no more use for me after this. PD, his friend and I headed back towards the dancefloor.

I kept prodding PD to get out there and dance since I know he likes doing that. A moment later this hot woman asked him to dance (he's is seriously the lady killer, haha) and I let them do their thing/headed out to talk to a hot guy I had my eye on.

Before I could say a word my 'Batman Warning" (it was a full moon last night) device alerted me to possible trouble regarding PD, which did not fail me. The woman he was dancing with was a hooker who asked PD to participate in a 3 way with her and her John.

We left soon thereafter and got quesadillas. Then we went to another bar. We (I) drank more and hailed a cab around 2AM. On our way in the backseat of the cab PD and I kept un/sub-consciously touched each other.

It didn't take long for both of us to shed our clothes and start a make-out session worthy of anything that can be downloaded from the Internet. I won't go into details, except to say I had one of the most mind-altering orgasms of my life. I even broke a fucking plant in the process.

The sun rose, we took a shower together and said our goodbyes. At some point last night I got the following text message from my roommate: "Its 3:30, pls try to be quiet". Quiet we were not, but god damn we had a good time.

After our shower this morning I hit up the gym, met a friend for brunch who then roped me into helping him move.

Ugh, I'm tired but happy.

COUCHES AND MAKING OUT DON'T MIX

I love to make out. Sometimes I like it even better than what inevitably follows (although truthfully that's rare). However, the thing I don't really care for is making out on couches. PD Day Boy was over earlier this week and we were hanging out just watching TV sitting on the couch when we started kissing. At first it was fine, just a few quick pecks here and there but once the tongues got involved I knew we had to continue elsewhere or else my neck would be totally fucked. I got off the couch and stood up and PD did the same without losing contact with my lips. We stood there for a few minutes illuminated solely by the television screen while feeling each other's bodies. At one point I leaned PD up against the door jam pressing myself against him and reached down...(wait for it) and grabbed his belt, leading him into my bedroom, (which not coincidentally is my favorite place to make out). [Side note: Why is making out without a shirt on easier? Maybe it's not but just hotter, dunno.] Anyways, I resisted the urge to give him a hickey on his neck (we're not in high school anymore) but went from his lips, to his chin, his ears, hell, I even kissed his nose (although that was just to make him laugh, which he did haha).

My mouth wondered elsewhere but I since I've decided not to go past "first base" on my blog I'll stop there for now.

BTW, does anyone know where the term "making out" came from?