Jason Rimbaud

This recipe brings back some horrible memories of my youth. We were so poor at times, we ate nothing but beans for weeks, most times without rice. I give you a mental thumb down...blech. Im sure it’s good but it’s makkng me lose my appetite. 🤮

The dangerous thing about prep, to this old school boy, is the misguided belief that bareback is suddenly an option. Yes I'm happy that PREP is a viable precaution to the death sentence I grew up with in the late eighties and throughout the nineties. Suddenly the waking horror I lived through and many of my friends did not is a contained threat. The I don't care about you attitude of the Regan years and the don't ask don't admit scare of the Clinton era is to my chagrin long forgotten by the I'm just discovering my path of sex in the controlled world of PREP so safe is an option where I can go bareback because at least I won't die HIV is not the only worry out there... Nor is the other STD a young gay man might contract by letting multiple humans inside so to speak. It's about the responsibility and the accountability a gay male must navigate as he approaches his sexual existence. I am an admitted promiscuous gay male that had my share and your share of risky fun with too many partners to account for. Yes I was always safe...yes the threat of HIV was always on my mind...but so was the threat of all other STD's. I never wanted to have to tell my life partner that I had herpes, or any of the other STD's out there because I was foolish with my body in a search for instant gratification. I have friends who are living with certain sexual diseases that have a hard time finding that life partner because of stupid mistakes in the past. Good for you that you don't have a life threatening disease, but yet a life long disease and one that is spread through unprotected sex still makes the search for the one harder to achieve. N Currently I am enjoying a condom free life with my partner because over our life we made smart choices in regards to sex. We can achieve the perfect Union because we were protected until we found the one that was the last one we would ever need to worry about it. dont forgo your future for a brief interlude knowing that at least you won't die for sure but run the risk of a "i have this for the rest of my life and will always pass it to the one I love" . Be safe, be smart, and don't get pressured or lulled into a false sense of security because I take a pill that assures me that at least I won't get the dreaded AIDS but I can still get a life long nuisance that could ruin my chance at finding life long happiness. My my two sense. J

I love this feature....poetry has always been a form that draws my attention...its raw, primal, and surface that envokes all my emotions in all the right places. More of this please. J

Innocent Meeting I remember that first day we met I was sitting on the porch A cigarette dangling from my lips A Foster in my left hand You were there with your friend An attractive female I remember thinking to myself If you were there with her what a waste You were the silent one as she spoke As she inquired about the room The one that was for rent in my house I nodded I only had eyes for you You made my pulse quicken My thoughts scattered like the wind

I am humbled. Blush At the time, this was one of my most ambitious poems. One night in a smokey bar, I watched two twenty-something's loudly fighting at the bar. The bartender was a friend who was trying to keep the two drunk boys from their overly loud argument. . As I watched them argue back and forth, accusing one another of horrible deeds. They even went as far as try and get the onlookers on their side. I watched in fascination for about thirty minutes before they shoved each other and one stormed out of the bar. I rushed home and wrote this piece in about two hours. I love the rhyming scheme and at the time, I was going through my own break-up with a boy named John. I guess I really was hoping for a happy ending. Needless to say, I don't think either of us ever achieved that happy ending. But when does happiness stay when you're young and in lust. J

In the dark confines of a smoky bar Where gay boys gather from afar They have come together to this place To see who will rule forever in this space The symbol of this friendship war Between the one named John And the broken-hearted boy, to be broken no more Enveloped by a trillion black lights Bodies groping and touching through the night To find a one to complete the sum Looking for that perfect lover but finding none And the one to decide the fate and the death Of the one named John And the

Me too...even with GPS I'll make a wrong turn and go for miles before realizing I made an error. So thats a stupid quote, not inspirational at all. J

Seventy? Oh fuck no...I need to hear some better news. I smoke and everything...doctors says that smoking reduces your hard on. Well fuck them! J

"Not all those that wander are lost"

It’s Thursday, September 21st, 2017 and I’m in Daly City California. It’s my day off, nothing special about that except that “N” is working the morning shift and I have the whole day off to do whatever I want. If I want to stay in bed all day naked, watching YouTube videos, I can. Or if I want to do a marathon of jerking off to free porn on the whole interwebs, I can and no one can say anything about it. And don’t think I didn’t contemplate that last one this morning after waking up with a full on robot chubby that wouldn’t go away that defies all logic for a forty-two year old man. One of the reasons I was so happy with growing older was the mistaken thinking that my libido would diminish with the onset of old age. And yes, I know that forty-two isn’t old compared to some of the other humans that populate this planet nor am I saying that forty-two is old. All I’m saying is that I was really hoping that I wouldn’t be the horny man I was in my twenties. The man/boy that slept with the butt-crack of dawn for no other reason then I couldn’t think straight the moment things became erect. And to be truthful, that was the only reason I slept with a little person when I was 22. And because I wondered if his cock looked like a normal sized cock, for the record it did. Nor was it because I wanted to see how massive my cock would look like going in and out of his little butt. For the record he was a top…but that’s another story. Why at my age do I still wake up with a hard-on? And even more curiously, why am I still horny the moment my boyfriend walks into the room? When will I get the dreaded EDS the TV tells me happens to every man over forty? For Christ sakes, I’m in my forties, do I still have to contend with my cock boning up with every stiff breeze that comes along? My boyfriend left at 7:15 this morning to go to work. Apparently he had a few private parties and several larger groups for breakfast and needed to make sure he was there in plenty of time to oversee this madness. And right after he left, I lay in bed with my other head ready for some fun. So I did what every man/boy does when his penis is taking over…that’s right, I got up and turned on my X-Box 360 and started playing Assassins Creed 3. And if you are wondering, I did not feel like a pervert playing games at 7:30am with a boner. Nor did I have a brief/thirty minute fantasy what it would be like to have sex with Conner from the game. And I am talking about a full thirty minutes of constructing a complicated story of what point in the game we would meet, the details of our first awkward encounter that slowly builds over time until we climax on the grass overlooking the manor with Achilles somewhat reluctant approval as he looks on. Besides my raging hard-on, the only thing I wanted to do today on this glorious day off, was to get hot wings from Buffalo Wild Wings in Daly City, Ca in the Serramonte Centre. I believe that everyone who has been reading my Blog for any amount of time…mostly a few years ago when I actually updated my Blog more than once every few years, would know that I am quite addictive to all things hot…exclusively hot wings. I will go to any amount of trouble to acquire those artery clogging morsels of ecstasy. Lie to policeman, check, leave work early on a faulty pretense, check. I’m not saying I would kill a human for those tasty treats, but don’t be the asshole that makes my life difficult at work and then stand in between me and those chickens that are fried in fat and then tossed in hot deliciousness. Seriously, don’t do that because I’m not sure what or who I would choose. Better to error on the side of caution then test my morals when it comes to hot wings. When “N” left for work, I was horny and really needed to release but I started playing video games instead of taking things in hand as it were. Then after driving myself to the brink of madness wondering what it would be like to have sex with a 3-D construct, I really needed to curb my horniness with something tangible. I played Assassins Creed 3 until 11am. I know, that’s like three and half hours playing a game. But all I was doing was waiting until Buffalo Wild Wings opened so I could indulge in man’s simplest pleasures. Okay, seeing as I was talking about jerking off, I wanted to indulge in man’s second simplest pleasure, the consumption of Hot Wings. At 11:25, I called in my order to Buffalo Wild Wings. May I have a medium traditional wings, all hot BBQ extra extra extra extra wet, with a side of Blazing sauce, a Chili Queso Dip with no pico de guillo. I don’t really give a shit if I spelled that wrong. I’ve lived in the Bay Area for thirteen years. I started going to Buffalo Wild Wings sometime in the last three years. Just so I can give you full disclosure, I’ve ordered the exact same order at least once a week for the last three years. It might have been longer/shorter, but I’ve spent way too much fucking money on this addiction that will probably put me in an early grave. I arrived at Buffalo Wild Wings at 12:30pm, because I stopped at the grocery store to buy Fosters beer and Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey. But before I talk about my Buffalo Wild Wings experience, I stopped at the local Lucky Grocery Store to do two things. First, I wanted to exchange my bag full of coins, they have a coin star that you can exchange your coins into money. When I first walked into the store, can you believe there was a line to use the coin star machine. Three people in front of me and I joined the line as I was listening to Penn’s Sunday School Podcast and really not in a hurry. After about five minutes, the guy leaves and the next guy goes to the machine and places a paper bag on the counter. His actions was hidden with his body, but after a few minutes and I didn’t here the sounds of the machine counting the coins to convert into money, I peered to my left and noticed that he had a paper bag filled with already rolled and packaged coins. The type of packaging that looks like when you get coins from a bank. And he was slowly breaking open the rolled coins and putting them into the counting thingy. “Fuck this” I thought and walked back to my car to place my oversized container in my trunk. All I wanted to do was cash in my coins, it wasn’t like I needed the coins to buy my groceries. I then walked back into the store and grabbed two bottles of diet coke, three 24 ounces of Fosters beer, and a 750ml of Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey whiskey. I walked to the front of the store, and they only had two registers open, and they had to have at least ten people in each line. Of course, the self check-out lines was completely empty, but seeing as you can’t buy alcohol in the self check-out lines, that really didn’t help me. “Fuck this” I thought as I dropped my basket and walked out of the grocery store. After all, I had lots of places I could buy beer and whiskey without waiting in line on my day off. I drove to Serramonte Mall, where Buffalo Wild Wings opened a massive store. When I walked into the store, it was 12:30, almost forty minutes from the time I called in my order. I walked up to the counter and there was three younger girls behind it talking amongst themselves. It felt like five minutes before I was even greeted but it was probably less than a minute. But sixty seconds is a long fucking time to stand somewhere where three different people can see you and no one even says hello. Seriously, right now, just start counting to sixty in your head and imagine you standing at a counter with someone standing behind it yet not saying a single word to you. It feels like forever right. That’s how I felt. Finally after three hours/thirty seconds, someone says hello. I give my name, they read my order back to me, medium traditional wings, all hot BBQ extra extra extra wet, side of blazing sauce, chile queso dip no pico de guillo, that will be 30.92. I give them my card, I total it 35.00 dollars and she says, your order isn’t ready it will be another five minutes. I sit down on the bench and continue listening to Penn’s Sunday School podcast. After eight minutes, I walk back to the counter and inquire about the status of my order. This is when the girl behind the counter decided to tell me, “There was a mix up of your order and they are re-making it, it’s not that busy so it should only be another 15 minutes.” I’m not mad that they lost my order, I’ve worked in the restaurant industry for more than twenty years, I understand that mistakes happen and orders get lost. If they would have said something to me when I paid for my order, I would’ve sat there quietly while they figured it out. But they didn’t tell me that when I paid, what they said was it would be another five minutes. And yes, I was really enjoying Penn’s Sunday School podcast, but I was also watching them. It’s a habit I’ve picked up over my years of running restaurants, I always watch the staff members. And in my watching, I saw that they were talking amongst themselves, pointing at me, and pointing back at the kitchen. Then I also observed them getting on the phone, gesturing towards me again, and then a minute or two later, a manager walked up to the front and started looking at the computer while looking at me everyone moment or two. But I understand that things happen and though I knew deep down in my heart that something happened to my order, I was waiting patiently. But after waiting eight mintues, knowing that something was wrong, and rightly/wrongly waiting for them to explain what happened to my order, I walked up to the front only to be told off-handedly, that they were re-making the order and that something happened. No apology, no saying they are doing everything they can to fix it, no offering a soda while I wait for the order to be corrected, nothing from the manager at all. And I will be the first to admit, I was pissed. From 7:30 in the morning, all I could think about was getting Buffalo Wild Wings, getting beer and whiskey and watching the remake of Magnificent Seven. And once again, Buffalo Wild Wings fucks up my plans. Earlier I told you that I have been ordering from Buffalo Wild Wings for longer than I can remember. What I never admitted too, was that they screw up my order at least 1 out of 5 times. Now before you ask me why I continue to go back to the place that fucks up my order that often, I will point out that I have an addiction and I will always need hot wings in my life. Always. I am rather proud that I didn’t yell, or demand some kind of free stuff, all I said was I’ve been waiting for almost 50 minutes and I want my money back. I want to say again, that Buffalo Wild Wings have screwed up my order so many times that I am immune to their incompetency and always check my order before leaving the restaurant. Over the years, I’ve gotten to know the front of house staff, and have seen lots of staff and managers come and go. And usually all I do is smile and take whatever bad experience they throw at me because in the end I get what I need, Hot Wings. I’ve seen great FOH staff, who cares but mess up continually, bad FOH staff that can’t get an order right if there was a gun to their head. And everything in between. And before you say, the FOH staff can’t control the kitchen, I know that. But Buffalo Wild Wings put the ticket on the bag, and I’ve seen the ticket never mention that I want no pico de guillo in my Chili Queso Dip. I’ve seen tickets that never says extra extra extra wet on my Hot BBQ wings. That is not a kitchen error, that is a FOH mistake. And what really pissed me off today, when the manager told me they lost my ticket and was remaking the order, what pissed me off, she turned away and started talking to the girl next to her about the date she had the night before. And I will be the first to admit, I’m not a nice guy sometimes. I have a sharp wit and sometimes it can be extremely harsh when I’m not at work. That didn’t happen today. I was calm, and politely asked for my money back. The manager looked at me, and said okay. She processed my order, gave me the slip that said my order was voided and that my card would be credited for the amount. She then turned away from me again and resumed her story about the night before. For the first time in my life, and it has already been established that I am forty-two, I looked up the corporate office and sent an email detailing my experience. I didn’t demand my money back, nor did I swear and lose my mind which is what I would normally do. Instead I detailed my experience today, and asked for them to try and fix the issues that seem to happen at each and every Buffalo Wild Wing I have ever frequented. I said, “I wish I could quit you, because after giving you so much money over the years and having so many issues with your staff, I wish I could quit you, but I probably won’t because I love hot wings so much”. It’s been five hours and I haven’t heard anything back from their website complaint department and I wasn’t really surprised. When you are such a huge corporation, people are going to give you money no matter what and that they believe that with all the new guests they get each week, they really don’t care about existing guests. But that logic is flawed, and what they don’t seem to understand, sooner or later they are going to run out of new guests and there will be no one left to try their restaurant. I spend so much of my energy making sure that all my guests are taken care of, I sometimes have nothing left to give to my boyfriend after a long day at work. I left Buffalo Wild Wings with the idea that I would go to my local Hot Wing place that doesn’t really have spicy hot wings but have decent hot wings that I could purchase and then add my ghost pepper sauce to kick them to another level. But when I arrived at their establishment, they were closed for remodel. And then went to another hot wing place in Daly City and they were out of hot wings until 1pm because there shipment didn’t arrive on time. It’s now 5pm and I’m at home. I did get my beer, and my whiskey, and I’m rather drunk, which is why if this Blog entry has mistakes or a rambling feel to it, it’s not my fault I’m on an empty stomach and rather drunk. I still have a hard-on, I have no hot wings, and my boyfriend isn’t home yet from work. Sometimes life just sucks no matter how hard you try and maintain positivity.

Thank you. It was a very hard point in my life when I wrote this. Seems miles away from the place I live in now. Thank you j

I have the day off, first one in a pretty long time that the Boyfriend is working. Not saying he isn't the cleanest person on the planet, but he's messy as fuck. So I really needed to clean the house while he's not around so he won't distract me by dancing around the house in his undies. Though that does make me feel like fuzzy bunny slippers when he does. So I needed some motivation to clean this filthy house. I searched through my almost one thousand movies and decided on re-watching Season 5 of 24. I made myself some tuna salad, toasted my artisan sweet batard bread, thinly sliced some sharp cheddar cheese, salt and vinagear chips on the side, sat down in my kitchen and switched on Hour number one. Five hours later, the house is not only still dirty, I haven't cleared the dishes from breakfast, so in fact, it is actually dirtier than it was when i started. And to make it even more upsetting, I think I fell in love with Keifer Sutherland's ass. So much for cleaning motivation. Though to be honest, I do have the urge to...err..polish something else entirely, thus making the house dirtier still. Having a great day off. J

I have played Mass Effect so many times I actually know where all the enemies arrive. I've also played the entire Assassins Creed games multiple times from start to finish. Though Black Flag and Rogue tend to be my favorites. Red dead redemption is also a favorite. Open world games with puzzles and different choices are what really keeps me coming back. J

I sit back and put my feet up on the bed And try to get as comfy as I can I write our name on the condensated window But he quickly wipes it away with the back of his hand He sighs as if he’s going to speak Like maybe something’s on his mind But he rolls over and faces the wall And I realize that our loves not blind So I open the window and let the cold air rush in It’s easy to be sleepy with this silence all night I rub my eyes and

Ecstasy was never my drug of choice. I had a love/hate relationship with cocaine and a straight boy named Mark. That being said, one of the reasons I love poetry so much that the reader can relate to it on a level that the author never intended. Thank you by the way, I had forgotten that I posted these two pieces here. All of my work is posted on the now defunct Author's Haunt. I think this link works if you are interested in checking them out. JasonLanc

It's been a long time coming but I am finally writing again. I have several more chapters complete and having a blast creating this world. It's like a comfortable old blanket and I wrapped myself tightly with it. Hope you like it. The sun had long set behind the mountains of the town of Glacier Bay. The moon bathed the town in a soft light with a backdrop of twinkling stars in the October sky. The trees gently swayed in the offshore breeze that hinted at the bone chilling weather that was to come but for now, the air was crisp and refreshing. The leaves had changed giving the streets and parks a colorful facelift that brought in visitors from all around. The last influx of outsiders bringing their pocketbooks before the long winter brought snow and ice and all the winter games along with it. Some folks said that winter was gods way of testing the human spirit. Much like the grass and trees, humans tended to go into a hibernation mode throughout the winter. Surviving on the nutrients they had gathered in the spring and summer to get them through the harsh starving months of winter. The world seemed a bit sadder in the winter months, most of the habitants of Glacier Bay walked with their head down, their faces covered by scarves and bundled up in colorful hats, gloves, and bulky winter coats. In the summer, they would wave and shout out to their neighbors, most times stopping for moment to ask about families and goings on. But with the onset of winter, one was lucky to get a polite wave as they rushed by seeking indoors over the blistering cold. On this particular night, Scott Taylor was staring out at the glacier that gave the town its name. The glacier, brightly lit by the moon, reflected across the bay giving off the illusion the water was ice, calm and still. This illusion was ruined every few minutes when a gentle wave would crash into the bottom of the glacier echoing off the mountainside. Scott tucked his long blonde hair behind his ears and looked towards the town he had lived in all his life. Glacier Bay, nestled at the base of a range of mountains that almost saw snow on the peaks all year round. The glacier snaked its way down the mountain until it spilled out in the bay that was protected by a natural seawall. When the town was first settled in the late 1800’s, the townsfolk had carved a deep channel for boats to enter the bay safely in the natural wall. This was once upon time to protect the fishing vessels that were moored at the docks during the winter months. Nowadays there was not much commercial fishing anymore. All the boats moored at the dock were built more for pleasure and unused for most of the year except when their rich owners could get away from the city for a few short weeks and enjoy all the town had to offer. Many local boys like Scott, made really good money taking care of the boats for their absentee owners throughout the year as well as maintaining the carefully manicured lawns and removing the snow from their vacation homes throughout the year. It always amazed Scott how much someone was willing to pay to keep a house they would visit once or twice a year. It seemed like a waste of money that could be better spent in other ways. But Scott was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As he peered across the bay, he eyes drifted to the lighthouse. There was no need for a lighthouse since the 1950’s and it had long been turned into a tourist destination with daily tours during the summer months. A small gift shop in the base of the lighthouse offered those who had the need to buy souvenirs and keepsakes to remember their trip to Glacier Bay. It had been closed for weeks now, abandoned until the spring. Too many things in Glacier Bay seemed to be dormant for his liking. Scott glanced at his watch and wondered again what was keeping his friend. His eyes drifted back to the high school. Thirty minute ago the lights had all but been turned off, signaling the end of the play and the participants headed home for the night. Even if there was traffic leaving the parking lot, his friend should have arrived twenty minutes ago. He pulled his coat around him tighter, it wasn’t that cold yet. But sitting still on a bench for almost an hour had caused a chill to sink into his bones. For the hundredth time, he checked his phone to see if there were any texts. Since he had arrived, his sister had texted him three times about the ending of the play, his mom wanted to know what he was doing Saturday night and if he was free for dinner. And a few more from random friends, but there was nothing from Jake. Silent; much like the last week had been. The old saying was true; you almost never miss what you have until it is no longer there. And after a week of silence from his closest friend, he found that he missed him terribly. Scott reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. It was definitely a habit he was trying to quit but the craving was always worse when he was bored. He hadn’t so much taken his first drag when he heard footsteps on the gravel walkway below. Jake must have ridden his bike, otherwise he would have seen the headlights of his car as he drove around the lake. Though the moon was bright and the sky was clear, he couldn’t make out the face of the figure as it approached him. But he would have known that shape anywhere. He had seen that shape for eighteen years. He peered intently as the boy walked towards him. Once he was close enough to see, Scott could see his face was drawn, his eyes intent as he looked at the ground. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his breath steamed in the night with every exhale. He had ridden his bike. Jacob Rainer, his next door neighbor for most of his life. The one person that knew every secret, every prank, everything he had ever done in his life. They were together when Scott got the bright idea to jump off the roof with sheets tied around their necks; they were also together when Scott convinced his friend that crossing the bay in old man Thomas’s row boat was a good idea at 2am in the middle of winter. From the time they could walk, they had been inseparable. The two boys, both eighteen and heading into their final year of school, could not have been more different. Neither in looks nor in personality. Jake was average size, short cropped brown hair, and always seemed to ponder each decision carefully before acting. He was well liked by his peers and received mostly A’ and B’s in all of his classes. Being the middle child, at home he would disappear as his younger sister seemed to garnish all the attention and his older brother couldn’t keep from arguing with his parents about everything. Everyone who knew him would testify that out of all the kids, he was going to be the one that made it and made it in a big way. Scott took another drag from his cigarette and waited for his friend to sit down next to him on the bench. But that did not stop him from looking at his friend with an expectant look on his face. Jake moved his hand in front of his face, trying to avoid the cigarette smoke that lingered around Scott’s head like a halo. “I really wish you’d quit those.” Scott shrugged, “Everyone needs a bad habit.” Jake settled back into the bench, and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Nice night. Won’t be long until winter arrives though. I can smell the snow in the air.” Scott threw the cigarette on the ground and stamped it out with his foot. “It is almost November. Hell, Halloween is just around the corner.” Jake looked at his friend sideways. “What are you going as this year?” Scott turned his head and looked at his friend, “Are we really doing this? Small talk, like you haven’t said a word to me in a week, and you want to know what I’m dressing for Halloween.” Jake ignored the outburst, something he did often. “I’m going as a father,” he said quietly. Scott’s eyes widened at the declaration. “Well shit.” Jake stared at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with Scott. Instead he dug his toe around in the dirt. “Remember the fall dance at the club back in August.” Scott couldn’t help but chuckle as he remembered that night. That was the night he dumped two bottles of whiskey in the punch, one hour before he puked on Mrs. Turners shoes. As much trouble as he received for ruining her shoes, it would have been worse if they would have known he was the culprit that spiked the punch. “What about it?” “Christine and I…” “Christine?” Scott interrupted. “Blankenship.” “Remember, Becky and I got into that fight. She was mad at you for spiking the punch,” Jake explained. “Becky went home with Julie and Christine was pretty drunk, so I offered to give her a ride.” “Yeah you did,” Scott said, laughing. Jake stood up, and spat out angrily, “This is why I can’t talk to you sometimes. Not everything is a joke.” Scott stared up at his friend for a moment. Then he said in a quiet tone, “You’re serious.” “I’m gonna be a father Scott. And I’m scared shitless.” Jake stated before turning around to face the glacier. “Wait a minute,” Scott said, shaking his head. “You slept with Christine the night of the dance and didn’t tell me?” Jake glared at his friend. “Not everything is about you. And no, I didn’t.” Scott pulled out another cigarette. “Okay, lets start at the beginning.” Jake rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Christine was hammered that night. I would never take advantage of someone like that. But she was all over me, and managed to kiss me before I kicked her out of the car.” Jake sat back down next to his friend and grabbed the cigarette and took a long drag before exhaling the smoke upwards. “That’s how you do it. Not in your friends face.” “Rodger,” Scott said with a grin. “Continue.” “Becky and I were having problems. She was so worried about what would happen at the end of the year when we go off to college. It was so frustrating, I mean, why couldn’t we just be happy now, and worry about next year, next year.” Jake stated with a sigh. “A few days later, Christine showed up at work, being all flirty. Wondering if I wanted to get coffee after I was finished. It was nice, hanging out with her, just being in the moment, not worried about college, and how many kids we needed to have, where we were going to live, you know. Just two people enjoying each other.” Jake stopped for a moment and eyeing the cigarette before taking it again. “So we hung out off and on for the next few weeks. And I swear, nothing happened. We were just talking.” “When did Becky find out?” Scott asked as he lit up another cigarette. Jake took a another drag, looked at the cigarette in his fingers, and threw it on the ground. He stated with a frown, “You sure seem to smoke a lot nowadays.” “What can I say, I’m an addict.” “Three weeks ago, Becky saw us at the coffee shop, she went crazy. She wouldn’t let me explain, she started accusing me of cheating on her with her best friend, calling us all sorts of names. It was in the middle of the coffee shop. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it.” Scott shrugged. “I’ve been busy.” “That was the night it happened. Right over there,” Jake gestured at the end of the walkway. He grabbed the cigarette again and took a long drag. “Look Jake, I don’t mind if you smoke my cigarettes but you have to stop putting them out after one drag, their expensive,” Scott said with a frown. “Are you sure she’s pregnant?” “She was pretty sure after a week because she missed her period. Three tests later, and I’m gonna be a father,” Jake sighed. “At eighteen, just like my father.” “That’s heavy,” Scott stated with a grimace. “And the really messed up thing,” Jake said quietly. “I don’t love her. I love Becky.” “Does she know?” Jake shook his head. “No one knows. Just Christine, me, and now you. Not even her parents.” “No wonder you’ve been avoiding me all week,” Scott said, his eyes wide in disbelief. Jake stared off into the distance as he said, “I told her. That I didn’t love her and that I wanted to be with Becky.” “How did she take that?” “She just starting crying,” Jake said, rubbing his hands through his hair. “I can’t seem to do anything right lately.” “There is one thing you did perfectly,” Scott blurted out. Jake stared at him flatly. “Don’t be an ass.” “I’m just saying maybe you should’ve tried for that ass and you wouldn’t be in this situation.” Jake couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not a pervert like you.” Scott laughed. “I’m not a pervert anymore; it’s legal now in almost all fifty states. We can get married and everything.” Jake shoved his friend playfully. “What you do I wouldn’t call it legal in any state.” “They have all been consensual,” Scott said, pausing before adding with a grin, “except that one time but we won’t talk about him. He deserved what he got anyway.” “Gross,” Jake stated dryly. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” “Is she going to keep it?” Scott asked carefully. “I’m not sure. I didn’t know how to bring that up. Fuck, I already told her I don’t want to be with her, I didn’t think asking about abortion was appropriate.” Jake admitted. “I’m such an asshole aren’t I.” “Best thing to do is talk to your dad.” Scott offered. “He’s going to kill me,” Jake said with a frown. “He always told me not to do what he did.” “Look on the bright side,” Scott stated as he stood up. “You didn’t, you’re not going to marry the girl you knocked up.” “Oh, you are so dead,” Jake snorted and started chasing his friend who had starting running towards his truck parked in the lot down the path. “You could never catch me slowpoke,” Scott called out over his shoulder before really turning on the speed. His long legs made running seem effortlessly, and he had been running his entire life. On his best day, Jake couldn’t keep up with him unless he slowed to a jog and this time was no different. By the time Jake caught up to him, he was leaning against his truck and the motor was already warming up. He did notice that Jake’s bike was already in the bed of his blue pick-up. Riding out to the glacier in the middle of the night might be fun but no one wanted to make the long ride back. Jake half-jogged the last ten yards, his chest heaving as he took large gasps of air. He held his side and winced. “I don’t know how you run that fast and still smoke that many cigarettes.” “Genetics,” Scott said with a smile. He smoothed down his long blonde hair and jumped in the truck. “Get in before you fall over.” “I was built for short bursts,” Jake explained as he climbed inside the 4X4 truck with a grunt. “I’m much better on the wrestling floor.” Scott turned on the heat full blast as he spoke, “And yet, oddly enough, I turned out to be the gay one.” “That is true. I’ve probably had my face in more boy crotches than you have. If I’m not gay by now, I’ll never be,” Jake said proudly. “You are one of the few on the wrestling team that could honestly say that,” Scott said, moving his eyebrows up and down suggestively. “Those are my teammates, I don’t want to hear about what they might do with you behind closed doors,” Jake complained half-heartedly. Scott laughed, loud and deep. “Remember that time we went to that away game in Hillersville, now that was a wrestler that knew which end of a boy was what.” For the rest of the ride back to town, Scott told one outlandish tale after another about his many conquests and crazy exploits. Like most boys do of a certain age, there was a large amount of exaggeration and all out lies. Jake knew that Scott was far from being a virgin, and he did have a more active sex life than most boys in the school ever dared dream. Most times he just hoped that most of Scott’s stories were fanciful tales designed to get a rise out of his listeners. Scott was well known around the school at having the weirdest sense of humor. No matter what the circumstance, he could always be counted on to say the most offensive thing at any given time. It was something that Jake actually respected him for. It took a very confident person to say whatever and not care what everyone else thought. Scott truly marched to a different drum than anyone else. He was never sure which boy was the good influence on the other. All he knew, Scott was someone he could count on to always be there. No matter what. For his part, Scott was at a complete loss of words. He couldn’t even begin to understand what his friend was going through. So he did the only thing he could do, try to take Jake’s mind off his problem, even if it was only for twenty minutes on the ride home. Jake was almost smiling by the time the blue truck pulled up to 803 Campus Circle at 11:53pm. Scott put the truck in park and stared ahead. “Talk to your dad.” “I’d rather talk to your dad,” Jake stated with a grin. Scott laughed again. “He’d be so happy to talk about sex with girls with someone. You’d make his day.” “How’s he been the last few weeks?” Jake asked, looking at his friend intently. “He’s getting use to it,” Scott said with a shrug. “Mom said it was okay for me to come to dinner tomorrow night. So that’s a good thing.” Jake reached over and put his hand on Scott’s arm. “Look Scott, I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately. It’s not because…you’re gay. I don’t care about that. And truthfully, I kind of always suspected.” “Really?” Scott asked. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “Why didn’t you tell me?” Jake countered. Scott turned his head for a moment and looked out the drivers window. “I guess I was scared.” “Of what?” Scott turned to face his friend. “I think I knew that you wouldn’t care, deep down. But I didn’t want to lose you. You are one of the most important things in my life. And I was scared to take a chance that you wouldn’t accept me. Or worse.” “Or worse?” Jake asked. “Like, if you thought I was hitting on you on those times we would wrestle around. Or the showers, or sleeping together,” Scott said honestly. Jake made a face and said quickly, “That’s gross.” Scott’s eyes widened as Jake continued thoughtfully, “One of the reasons I always thought you were gay was when we wrestled and you’d get a boner.” “I so did not,” Scott denied laughing. Jake laughed, for the first time that night, a deep belly laugh. “Exactly my point. You are more like my brother than my own brother.” Scott stated through his laughter, “Truth.” “I didn’t know what to say about this Christine thing, I was avoiding you because it’s got my head all twisted,” Jake admitted. “But I realized that you might think it was because you came out. And it’s not. Honest.” Scott sighed. “Thank you. I will admit I was wondering if that was it. It was weird not being able to talk to you about this stuff.” “Hey, you can always talk to me, I might not understand it all, but I’ll listen,” Jake said with a small grin. “Thanks. And you’re not worried what everyone will say at school about you,” Scott asked. He had already heard some of the things that have been said. For the time being, nothing had been said to his face but he figured it was just a matter of time. Jake laughed again. “Scott, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I wasn’t the only one that suspected.” Scott was truly stunned. “Really.” “Becky and even Julie told me that years ago. Mike mentioned it in passing,” Jake said through his laughter. “I think everyone knew and probably no one really cares.” “Well shit, I could’ve saved all that stress,” Scott said thoughtfully. “If only my father would’ve suspected.” “He’ll come around,” Jake said confidently. “He just always wanted a grandson.” “Well, maybe he can adopt Christine’s baby,” Scott snorted out, not being able to stop himself. “You really are an asshole,” Jake said, shaking his head. “Really, a big asshole.” “You could come over and visit him, bring him presents,” Scott said more enthusiastically, gesturing wildly. “Take naps with me in my bed.” “Just keep laughing,” Jake warned, but the corner of his mouth was curling up in a grin. “Though, you are a great napping partner. You like to cuddle.” “One time,” Scott admonished. “Best nap I ever had,” Jake said laughing. “That’s when you’re father should’ve suspected. When he walked in on us that day, you had even drooled a bit on my shoulder.” “You’re laughing now,” Scott replied. “But Mom asked me if you were my boyfriend.” Jake stopped laughing and asked, “Seriously? What did you say?” Scott put his hands behind his head and said, “I told her it wasn’t my place to out other people and if she wanted to know she should ask you.” Jake smacked him right in the stomach, hard. Scott made a sound, and grabbed his stomach, though he didn’t stop laughing. “It doesn’t help that you stopped coming around these last few weeks. No telling what they are thinking.” “Well, I can bet they aren’t thinking I got some girl pregnant,” Jake said wistfully. “No, can’t say that they are,” Scott agreed. “Anything you need, just ask.” “Thanks. But it’s time for me to go inside,” Jake stated as he stared at his darkened house, a lone porch light shining a light on the walkway. “I’ll see you.” Jake opened the door and headed towards the front of the house. Scott stared at him until he disappeared inside and the door closed. Scott checked his phone and read a text that brought a grin to his face. He replied, “I’m on my way.” He started up his truck and headed across town whistling. He had wanted to tell Jake about the reason he came out but didn’t think it was the right time. Not when Jake was worried about being a father to a girl he didn’t want to be with. Not to mention that when Becky found out she would probably break up with him. No seventeen year old girl wants to be a girlfriend of an eighteen year old that is having a baby with her best friend. But that was for a later time to worry about. For now, he was going to see the reason he came out. And for now, that was all that mattered.

I have always been a reader and tend to gravitate towards Sci-Fi/Fantasy though as I get older I've noticed I read most anything, fiction or non-fiction if the topic is interesting. I have actually never read any of the LOTR books and read the Hobbit only once. As much as I love Fantasy/Middle Earth, (definately a fan of the LOTR movies VS the Hobbit installments but that is another post), I always found Tolkien writing to be pretty boring and not enough story progression to keep my mind interested. I guess when I was younger Sci-Fi was captured my imagination more, Heinlein was a favorite along with Jules Verne, its wasn't until I was 15 when I first fell in love with Fantasy. Much like you James, I was always getting in trouble in my English class, mostly due to the fact that I always finished my work long before the other students and I was bored. After countless trips to the office and serving detention, my teacher gave me a book to read one day in class to keep me from distracting the other the students. It was Pawn of Prophecy by David Eddings. From the opening line, "The first thing the boy Garion remembered was the kitchens at Faldor's Farm." I was hooked. It was book one of the Belgariad and it started my journey of fantasy. Filled with magic and centuries long war with gods and men, and love, love between family and friends. It has one of my all time favorite characters, Silk, a prince that is also an assassin and spy, befriending a young boy. It was amazing, so much so that once class was finished, I begged her to let me bring home the book, she said I would have to wait until the next class to continue the story. I was rather upset upon reaching the end of that book to find out that it was only one book in a series that would eventually grow into 12 books starring the young Garion as he learns his destiny. Not sure what this post means, but this reminded me of a great memory that I figured to share. J

I have never commented on your Blog before, though I have read every entry. I tend to be shy, unless I am writing my own blog, and rarely think I have anything to offer but ramblings about days that I no longer want to relive. The reason I am commenting now, is because of the clarity that rings true in the words above. The realization that no one in that scenario is special, due to the fact that that scenario only brings "O" faces and stories to tell your friends over dinner. Lasting relationships are more fulfilling and breeds the special-ness that deep down inside I believe most humans need, strive for, even through endless one night stands and drug/alcohol fueled release into willing receptacle. It means nothing if you are the receptacle or the depositor into said receptacle. The end result is the same. I don't have sage advice as I continue to make mistakes over and over again. All I can say, is realization brings us all to crossroads...continue down the same shallow path, or look inward and allow maturity to reign. I like your life and your words regarding your life. J

Sometimes it's easy in that situation to be bitter, looking back its rose colored tints and a bunch of what-ifs and supposes. But deep inside you know that looking backwards only causes pain and blurry could've been so. Today you are strong, secure in your place in life gay man with a partner and that is only because of your past experiences. Don't look to trade your past for a rosy present...that accomplishes nothing and more than likely hinders future you from growing. Each generation builds upon the previous, give a helping hand to those after you, knowing in two generations, even your struggle will be regulated to myths. We are winning, and in lots of instances, we have won.

Thanks! I think I'm out of practice though. It did make me miss sitting down and writing. I might jump back in a tie at a time. Thanks for reading. Some of my older posts are definitely better.

I’m back...and this blog entry is sponsored by “wingtip shoes” and candy apple cigarettes. I could look this up but I’m a bit too much on the lazy side to figure out how long it’s been since I last posted a blog entry. But I’m sure it’s so long ago that even my one loyal reader has given up on checking my outdated blog and has disappeared into the ether. Unfortunately I am regulated to posting to those that have no idea who I am or realize the sheer boredom the next few minutes will bring them as they read this blog entry called Bottom(less) Tales in Vegas 2016. So let me be the first to apologize to all of you for wasting your time. But I am a gentleman so just to avoid all the confusion, let me tell you who I use to be a long time ago, twenty-pounds smaller, and a few thousand hair follicles ago. I was a rather prolific poet, blogger, and part-time storyteller known as Jason Rimbaud. That was a long time ago when I was still messed up on pills, alcohol and a straight boy named Mark. Do you remember now? Just in case you were wondering, I have put all three of those things firmly in my rear-view view. And if I were to be honest, the main reason I stopped blogging all those years ago , I really didn’t have much drama in my life and what little drama I had was a bit on the boring side to share with my loyal reader. Trust me, no one wants to read anything remotely about me getting up to work, working all day, going home and sleeping only to rise and repeat. That should be the title of my life, Rise and Repeat (trademark pending). Literally nothing was going on in my life. Okay, so judging from the title of this blog post, I’m sure a few of you are expecting something interesting happened to me one blistering hot day in Las Vegas. I met a boy. Not really a boy, more like an amazing wonderful guy that from here on out, I will call “G” to preserve his identity. “G” is an Indian, his family comes from Goa but he was born here in San Francisco. Lets go back to the beginning, a perfect place to start for this fuzzy bunny slippers kind of a tale. I am currently sitting at the Luxor Casino in the quaint little dessert town of Nevada known as “Sin City”. This town is aptly named because I definitely found some sin in that city. Well, two sins to be precise. It has been just over a year since I broke up with “G”. Matter of fact, almost in the exact spot I was when I first realized that we were no longer an “us”. Have you ever been in a relationship and one day you wake up and realize that what you think was perfect was actually flawed and nowhere near the vicinity of perfect? “G” and I were together for well over two years and I must say, it was the most adult relationship I have had to date. It’s been long enough that I can look back and see it for what it was…perfect for me and just average for him. Before you go and think we had epic battles and tears were shed and bodily fluids were shared with other partners, you would be wrong. In the weeks before the break-up, we went about our daily lives in a comfortable routine. A routine that I guess worked for me but left him wanting something else. I don’t believe there was another boy that took him away. I believed he came to the same conclusion I did on that fateful day in Vegas, but he came to that much sooner than I. I went to Vegas in March, last year, after a long stretch of long hours and missed days off. I had been texting him off and on all day, sharing with him my wins and my losses, when I started getting the sinking feeling that something was extremely wrong. Have you had the moment via text, when you can feel the mood shift? That’s what I felt from him that day. I could almost feel he was just replying back to me because we were together and not because he really was enjoying talking to me. We always had the most fun together, we enjoyed each other and spent most of our time laughing and joking and referencing all the inside jokes we had developed. Our texts were playful and flirty and were seldom one word replies. But that day, the replies were coming slower and slower and the words became fewer and fewer. I remember vividly sitting there at the slot machine, staring at the screen and then down to my phone, and the sudden clarity moment when I knew we were over. Matter of fact, six days later, we would be over and my life would be forever changed. I’ll be honest, mainly because he will never read this and partly because I have always been honest in these blog posts, I was lucky to have him in my life for as long as I did. “G” is a great guy and though I believe I am over him, I still think about him often and wonder how he’s doing. I am currently, as I type this, sitting at the Luxor Casino in a bar called Aura trying to get my head around the events that happened just a few minutes ago. I’m exhausted, and not in I need to pass out for twelve hours kind of way, but more like a contented exhaustion. I awoke this morning and decided I needed to clear my head and work out the memories that have been haunting me for a year. While it had been a year since “G” and I broke up, I had yet to throw my ass into the dating world. I might have been a bit too glib earlier when I acted like it was a mutual thing. It was the saddest break-up of my life. And that hurt, for a long time, and I was devastated. I couldn’t even as much look at another penis without a crippling feeling of loss. Don’t get me wrong, I joined Jacked and Grindr but no one I met even came close to “G” nor did I really feel like getting someone else fluids anywhere near me. But that was then, and this is very much right now. This morning I woke up and felt a horniness that I haven’t felt in a long time. So intense was this mental erection, I jumped on a plane and headed to my favorite vacation destination. And I did it right. I flew first class, I booked a two bedroom suite that came with a hot tub in front of the window so I could look out on the Vegas strip while soaking naked. So here I was, freshly mended heart, looking out across the dessert in one of the greatest cities in the world and I needed human contact. It was so overwhelming, I knew it was an itch only a guy could feel. What was a boy to do? Damn right! I opened Grindr. Twenty minutes later I’m sitting at the very bar I’m sitting now, chatting up this guy from Wisconsin. One drink after that, we were back in my room. He was a bit younger than me, late thirties, tall and rail thin. His name was Adam. A fitting name I thought as I was about to be partaking of the forbidden fruit for the first time in a year. I believe Adam was married and only played with men on his business outing. But he was horned up and for some reason, I was the reason. He kissed like a straight man. So like a true reformed slut, I put a condom on his peen and sat down. When I first met “G”, he was in a tragic relationship with a guy I really believe broke his heart. So much so, I don’t think there was ever a chance for us to work. He was coming off a relationship he thought was going to last forever, there was a ring and everything. Moving into my little world of craziness, he never really had the time to heal from that. I’m not the most emotional guy in the world and with just a hint of clarity in my pretty bald head, we were probably doomed from the start. But fuck me did I try, more than I ever tried before. At least I know when I do meet the right guy, I will have no trouble diving head first and doubling down. Adam had a great body, smooth and a perfect sized penis. You know the kind I mean, not so big that you can’t fit it in anywhere but not so small that makes you looked down and go “no thanks”. Looking out over the Vegas strip, pressed up against the window, I realized that was something I had been missing for a long time. As I gazed out at the twinkling lights of Mandalay Bay, I actually let out a sigh. I won’t describe the sex I had with “G”, that is for me and I won’t cheapen the memory by sharing it with you. But he was little, and I’m not talking about his down there parts, that was as close to perfect as you could get, but it had been a while since I was with someone that could really manhandle me around. I was so horned up and ready for Adam to stop kissing me, I didn’t even use lube, I just pushed back and took the pain. One, two, three, maybe five thrusts and he collapses against my back, shaking. As we kind of stood there, his weird breath on my back, silent for a moment before I said, “That was disappointing.” Think about it, it had been over a year since I had any action and fifteen seconds into it, right when it just started to feel amazing, he finishes with a grunt. I’m not sure what he was expecting nor the look that must have crossed his face when I said that. All I know is I felt him tense up, and he pushed off me and started walking over to his clothes. The condom dropped to the floor and without a word, he got dressed and left the room. I was still standing by the window, still excited and wondering what the fuck just happened and what the fuck was I going to do now. I could have taken it in hand as it were, but now I was like a man possessed. When you’ve gone a year without sex, fifteen seconds is nowhere near long enough to come close to satisfying me. No hand job in a poorly lit movie theatre, no wink wink nudge nudge, not even boom goes the dynamite. I needed dick, and for longer than fifteen seconds. I stood there kind of confused, all my blood still pooling far away from my bald head, when I heard that magic sound every Grindr user recognizes. I opened the APP, and the first thing I see is a bare stomach, two brown nipples winking at me, no face but that wasn’t what sent my stomach doing back flips. “G” was probably the first guy I ever took without a condom. And I can remember that first time we did it, like we were connected in ways that all homophobes will never understand. I don’t want to get too graphic, but fuck me, it’s an amazing feeling. Remember, it has been a year since I bottomed for anyone. An entire year, needless to say, it was a really tight fit. So maybe I can’t blame Adam for shooting so quick…maybe! So I open Grindr, and under ethnicity, I see Native American, Navaho to be precise. He was hot, 6 foot tall, runner build, amazing smile and let’s not even mention the glasses, because fuck I do like my men in glasses. What was a guy to do? I had never been with a Native American, the excitement was there, and that need to be fulfilled was still there, pounding in my brain. I told him my room number and promptly jumped into the shower to wash off Adam’s stink. After all it has been only ten minutes since Adam was all up in my business. I really hoped that Sonni, yes his name is Sonni, couldn’t tell that I just had someone else ten minutes earlier, but I really didn’t care. I was definitely seeing red at this point. Sonni was completely opposite of Adam. He was shy, so much so I also wondered how much experience he had with guys. That fear was quickly put to rest at the expert way he handled certain parts of my anatomy. But I am getting ahead of myself. While Sonni and I were chatting by the window, he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to have sex, he was a bit more interested in oral pleasure at first. But luckily for me, he took one look at my willingness and threw those plans out of the window. We made out for a while, doing a little bit of this and some dirty that, and I get another condom and in no time I am ready to go. He was bigger than Adam, one of the biggest I have been with on that end of things. But I was up for the challenge and slowly sat down. One, two, three, eight and wammo, his toes curl and he lets out a whimper and I’m back right where I started. Horned up and still not properly topped. The first time “G” topped me, the same thing happened. It was over long before it really began and after these two guys tonight, I am starting to believe I just might have a magic ass. Which might be quite difficult to accomplish at forty-one years old? But I am sitting here in this bar, a bit sore back there, but content that I was still attractive enough that two different guys in a matter of an hour, shot off because of the sensations I caused them. And for those of you that say that isn’t me as much as it has to do with them, don’t rain on my parade. I needed a confidence booster. The real difference between Adam and Sonni, Sonni isn’t leaving until Friday, that’s three days away. Who knows, maybe I can get him in my bed again for round one and half. I think I would take “G” back if he would offer. I still love him. But I also know that we grew apart in ways that neither of us can recover the distance. And just because my track record is being the king of looking back and diving headfirst into past boyfriends and all that tangled shit over and over again doesn’t mean I have to wash rinse and repeat. I miss “G” in certain moments, the fun we had, the times we shared, and all the moments that we created as an “us”. But then, for the first time in years, I was with two different guys in a matter of an hour. And yes I understand what that might make me, but after a year I think I deserved a bit of safe fun. Me and my magic ass deserve it. I’ve been in town seven hours and I already used up all my towels. What will the maid think of me when she cleans my room tomorrow? As usual, I’ve rambled on for too long to disclose the remainder of my Bottom(less) Tales in Vegas or the time when Sonni came to San Francisco and we spent nine amazing hours in bed for his birthday. But those tales are for another time and some other when.

Thank you, it was the first thing I've written in years. J

Tell me about it...my BF is constantly telling me that I am a Straight guy trapped in a gay mans mouth J

“It’s not that I didn’t like the gift…” “You don’t,” Ron interrupted while flipping through a magazine. “Right, but he doesn’t have to know that.” “He will figure it out when you never wear it and it goes the way the rest of his gifts have gone, “Ron said gesturing towards the closet. “It’s our fifth year anniversary, that deserves something more romantic than a brown coat and an even plainer brown scarf,” Daniel exclaimed, pushing his hair off his forehead. “It could have been worse you know.” “Really. How?” “Remember the animal print top he bought you two years ago,” Ron said, putting the magazine down on his lap. “What kind of animal was that again?” “Zebra.” “See, that would have been worse. A zebra printed coat.” “Sometimes I have a hard time believing he is gay.” “I doubt that,” Ron said as he rolled his eyes and looked down at the pages again. “I see how you walk into the kitchen after date night.” “That’s what I mean,” Daniel stood up angrily. “You shouldn’t be privy to our love making sessions.” “And you shouldn’t be calling it ‘our love making sessions’ either.” “We use to stay out all night just talking. We’d go out for long walks on the beach under the moonlight. We’d hold hands and make out until the sun came up over the city.” “And I remember when you thought turtle necks hid your tremendously long neck.” Daniel ignored him and continued, “Now I cook dinner, he opens a bottle of wine. We snuggle on the couch while watching Alien Encounters before shuffling off to our bed promptly at nine pm where our love making sessions start and we are asleep by nine-thirty.” “Sounds pretty bad to me,” Ron said as he stood and looked at his watch. “You have a man that puts up with your craziness, you family issues, loves you so much there are times I get physically sick being in the same room with you two. It’s horrible.” “You know what I mean,” Daniel threw up his hands in frustration. “I think it’s over.” Ron rolled his eyes. He loved his brother more than anything but there were times it was exhausting listening to his insecurities. “Come on drama queen, we have to go. The movie starts at seven.” “I can’t believe he has to work late on our anniversary,” “Damn,” Ron stated as he looked at his shoe. “I think I have a broken shoelace. Why don’t you go get the car and I’ll change shoes and meet you down in a minute. “Okay.” The moment the door closed behind Daniel, Ron pulled out his phone and waited for the connection. “Is it set?” The voice on the other end asked. “Little miss drama queen is heading down as we speak.” “How mad is he?” “You know my brother, he doesn’t even know how he feels moment to moment.” “Thanks again for watching the house this week-end, you are my favorite brother in law.” “I’m your only brother in law weirdo,” Ron said with a laugh. “Have fun in Bermuda.” Ron returned his phone to his pocket and kicked off his shoes. He sat down on the sofa and put his hands behind his head and sighed loudly. “Finally some peace and quiet.”

I've always hated the terminology, gay book, gay actor, I'm gay, I don't live a gay lifestyle, I am human who happens to find gentleman of the same sex attractive. I am human. That being said, it is nice to be able to find characters that are the main plot focus that resemble the man I see when I look in the mirror. Luckily, in the last fifteen years or so, the talent of those writing gay themed stories have improved ten fold. It used to be ninety percent stroke stories, and now its more like sixty percent are written solely to stroke one out. I am looking forward to the day when I find an author that can capture my imagination like Jordan, Eddings, Brooks, Rimbaud, Thomas, Poe, just to name a few. So for now, I keep searching. J