Some things I’ve learned to be true. There are 365 days to a year, the warmer ones I like the most. Rio is a fun city, so is Barcelona, but there's no place like New York.
If I could choose anyone to have sex with, I'd pick Colin Farrell, seems like he's a good lay, like he'd go to town. But no one could ever come close to Richard Gere in American Gigolo, hands down.
Men who read are sexy, but those who can tell a good story rule the world. When a guy says, “We’ll just cuddle,” you should probably know he wants more, a lot more.
What I don’t get is why I like him. For the life of me I can’t figure it out. Sure, I know why he caught my eye. He’s beautiful. Tall, dark hair, a classic square jaw. A tight body, a perky butt, and though I try not to look, a big bulge in his pants.
It’s not just me. Everyone who comes in contact with him morphs into some comical schoolgirl. Overt flirting, loud laughter, eyes transfixed. I’m sure he’s used to it. I’m sure his kindergarten teacher liked him, he was that cute.
I thought I'd be immune. We have nothing in common. He’s a sports fanatic who plays football on the weekends, a staunch conservative who thinks Mini-Uzis look just fine on a K-Mart shelf. He’s arrogant, sometimes even compassionless. And he quotes Walt Whitman of all men.
He manages to push all my buttons. And I get irritated, not by him, by me, for liking him still. I act all wrong around him. Nothing comes out right. Me, the king of words, speechless, awkward, dumbfounded.
It's life's little reminder that things you hold in your heart of hearts to be true sometimes aren't. And it’s also... a good thing he has a boyfriend.
~Emotions, just as buttons, were designed to be pushed. As we walk through life we gather thoughts and preferences like vast pools of feelings. Then, when we swim into the deep end and meet other boys who like to swim there we find they tred water an entirely different way. Isn't it a wonderful thing that we can be so different from each other but still yearn to swim together?
Posted by: Scott | December 03, 2005 at 12:21 AM
What's wrong with Walt Whitman?
Posted by: Rob | December 03, 2005 at 03:13 AM
Oooh, I think you're gonna have to accept this as a guilty pleasure.
Some guys have this effect on others- people get sucked into their oozing aura of hotness and physicality. It's bad when someone like that has an abrasive personality. It's worse when that kind of guy knows he's a heartstealer. It feeds their arrogance.
Options, off the top of my head:
Forget about him.
Just accept your dark desire and whack off while thinking about him.
Or get yourself into fights with him and work through your juices that way.
That last option sounds strangely attractive to me.
You already know you write beautifully, but I wanted to say it also: You are one of those writers that makes love to readers with your words. That's a rare talent, IMO.
Congrats on the Best Gay Blog top 5 listing!
Posted by: Atari_Age | December 04, 2005 at 12:21 PM
When I look at this picture I can't help but think how much I'd rather fuck Warner Huntington III.
I think Colin's chainsmoking booze breath would get old fast.
Posted by: Kenneth | February 21, 2006 at 09:20 PM