Stayed in today, still sick. My apartment’s a mess. There are crusty tissues and used teabags everywhere, dirty socks on the floor, looks like a chapter of Phi-Beta-Kappa exploded all over my room. I haven’t showered since yesterday and I’m starting to smell like the inside of a NYC cab. My biggest achievement today is having brushed my teeth. I have to say though, there’s something rather nice about stinking it up, keep smelling my armpits like Molly Shannon on SNL.
Spent the morning overdosing on The Golden Girls and The Nanny reruns, then checked out what some of the other bloggers are yappin' about. Some funny stuff out there.
I’ve always thought blogs were for dorks with no social life, never really understood what the fuss was all about. I’d read a few entries that were mediocre at best, post-pubescent twinks with little talent and too much time.
Then I met Toby. Well, didn’t actually meet him, had no idea who he was. A friend of mine was chatting him up one night at The Cock and introduced us. It was dark, couldn’t even tell if he was cute.
I asked him later, “So who was that kid you were talking to?”
“His name’s Toby, he’s one of the biggest bloggers out there.”
There's a winner I thought, another dork with a laptop. But my friend insisted this guy was a talented writer. Mind you, I don’t think my friend has read more then 10 books his whole life so can’t say that I was impressed. But he piqued my curiosity. I checked his site Vividblurry.com, and came across this:
22 December 2004
Why the hell am I posting this?
I am one of those people who usually closes his eyes during sex. Let's chalk that up to being in such a state of ecstasy that I need to shut off at least one of my senses if my heart isn't to explode from pleasure. Or maybe I'm just a shitty lay. Who knows? No one cares. Not when you have a body like mine.
Well, today I allowed myself a quick glance into the mirror while he fucked me. With him on his back and me on his penis, I turned my head to the vanity, and I swear to god, it was like watching a porn. And not one of those crappy Sean Cody films where everyone is drunk and the guy can't get hard and no one has heard of a tanning salon. It was like a fucking Falcon porn. My arms were taut and muscular, ditto for my pecs and stomach. I seemed almost acrobatic, and given the nature of the situation, my face registered only the slightest trace of shame.
We finished up and in an effort to correct the awkward silence, I said something about the mirror and how we looked like we were porn stars. He was already cruising JockBod at this point (What the hell?) but he looked up and said it would not be a porn he'd ever watch.
"Why not?" I said, much to the groans of the live studio audience.
"I'm not really into twink porn."
OKAY, THINGS NOT TO SAY.
Come on, I'm at least one step above twink! You gotta give me that! He didn't, but he had already given me plenty that afternoon, so I guess I'm in no position to complain.
_______________________
Fucked up. Addictive.
And if you're feeling particularly generous, Shades of Gray was also nominated as the World's Best Gay Urban Blog and the biggest surprise, World's Best Urban Blog for the Urbs: 2005 Urban Blogging Awards. Click here to vote. Scroll all the way down for the second nomination.
