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Dark Passenger: A Funeral I Did Not Attend

Dark Passengers Series
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I did not go to a funeral this weekend.

My molester finally kicked the bucket and finds himself in descent to hell or whatever suffering in afterlife the asshole deserves. Truth is, I’m not sure I believe in much of an afterlife anymore. But nonetheless, he’s gone.

The funeral was yesterday and family friends attempted to pressure both me and my sister to attend.

Now you must realize most people do not know what this man did to us — more especially, what he did to me,

Today I was speaking with a friend who said he was “floored” by what my sister told him about this wonderful outstanding citizen of the community. My sister refused to attend the funeral because of inappropriate touching of her. This came from the friend as to scold me for not attending the funeral, not in an understanding way.

I then went ahead and gave a brief overview of my abuse. At first, there was disbelief, but I think the margarine incident clinched it.

He broke down into tears and asked me to stop talking. And I was forgiven for not attending the funeral.

But tell me why I cannot sleep tonight. Tell me why it is on my mind?

 

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Fifteen Things

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I think I’m having a mid-life crisis. I guess you’re allowed at 43, although it seems to me it’s a little beyond midlife because I’m not sure I want to live until I’m 86. Late 70s seems appropriate enough for me. Nonetheless, here’s my 15 things I’ve been considering…

15. I want to begin an exercise regiment, possibly including yoga. I would prefer a personal trainer, one who is rather good looking and who might use a bit of sexual harassment in order to whip me into shape. In particular, I think this aspect might be required for me to maintain my interest since I don’t normally experience to ever-lovin’ “runner’s high” or any level of satisfaction from working out. At least, I don’t recall ever experiencing anything remotely pleasurable. As for yoga, the fascination seems unusual I know. A little too touchie feelie with the third eye probably somewhere looking at my crotch. But I want to try something a little lower impact to see if I can find some enjoyment in the so-called “working out” arts.

14. I want someone to ask me out on a date. It’s strange the number of people who’ve inquired about me settling down lately has been unusually high and I’ll admit a certain appeal. That said, I don’t think monogamy is necessarily on the table although I’ll discuss it. I welcome such a discussion. I was, in fact, invited on two dates this weekend but had to decline for business reasons — largely my travel. Additionally, though, the two men were bottoms and did expect me to make decisions on the date as to what we would be doing. I make decisions all week. I need my date to make decisions for me. By the way, if he decides on a movie, I will automatically decline. It says he’s not confident enough to carry a conversation through an entire evening.

13. Where’s the goddamned porn star? I keep getting closer and closer to meeting one. Now for the fucking to begin. And I’d sorry, just cause you were on film with a nine-inch dildo up your ass in the early 2000s doesn’t make you a porn star. I mean a real porn star, recognized as such today. And I still want to write and direct one. I have two or three ideas that I think will make th porn industry take notice.

12. I want someone legitimately to follow through on meeting me. I get so many people who express an interest but now that I’m willing to actually meet people, no one seems to want to follow through and meet. I corresponded with  a youthful man and he seemed quite the person worth getting to know but when I called him out on some potential bullshit, he folded and disappeared. So many men do that. That seems to happen a lot on my travels.

11. In a related wish, I’m going to take a week off in August. I wish someone wanted to meet me then. Legitimately. I’ve been hoping for a few destinations I could plan on visiting but no one really seems to want to meet me, even at their own home. So it looks like my vacation will be a “stay-cation.”

10. A porn series I want to make: Hairy Otter and the Porn Producer’s Bone Dildo, Hairy Otter and the Chamber of Secret Torture, Hairy Otter and the Prisoner of Banned from Arizona, Hairy Otter and the Goblet of Fire Water, Hairy Otter and the City of Phoenix, Hairy Otter and the Half-Black/Half-Arab Prince, and finally, Hairy Otter and the Deaf Leif Howler.

9. Okay, so the porn series is a bit of a joke (although it’s actually got a true story line that begins in San Diego and travels through New Mexico (I mean, where would a prisoner “banned from Arizona” go?) travels through the wilds (meeting a Native American who provides “fire water”) and shows up in Phoenix. Then we take a twist back toward California and the opulence of Las Vegas (to meet a “Prince of Persia”) and then the road trip tragically ends with a deaf guy who’s hunting a down-and-out former teen star (but he can’t hear just how awful he really sounds). That all said, I do want to try my hand at porn. I find several gaps in the industry that still needs filling — and a fist or even two won’t cut it. There’s a reason why Xtube.com, PornTube.com, etc. is so popular. It’s not just amateur. It’s not just regular people. It’s a formula no one had tried to tap into. I can.

8. Speaking of porn, I want to really step into something bizarre. I was sharing with an online buddy that I think there’s potential for truly some twisted shit out there. Straight torture video. Yes. Gay for pay? You’ll do it for money, but really how far does it go? I think Bait Bus is fake but that’s part of the fun. So let’s get guys to line up and see how far they’ll take it.

7. I know I just moved this damn blog, but I am questioning whether it needs to continue. I’ve found several of my recent activities have met with disappointing results — not one t-shirt sold, GASMM isn’t garnering much attention and fuck if anyone lately wants to meet me in person. Maybe it’s time to hang it up. What do you think men? Is the magic of the blog gone?

6. Speaking of the magic being gone, while I’ve enjoyed some fun lately, the last few fucks haven’t held for me a lot of fun. In fact, they’ve been sort of boring. With exception of the DP in DC, which I have yet to write about, fucking has left me a little limp. Where’s the excitement men? Where are all the good fucks? I had a typo. I had typed, “Where are the god fucks?” Truth is, that’s a good typo. Where are you?

5. Where should I move? I’m looking for my next home and my next career change. I’ve only scratched the surface of what’s been happening at work but I want a new job. Anyone looking for a marketing executive, go out on a limb and drop me a note. I’m worth it.

4. Don’t take me so goddamn seriously. Some asswipe the other day got all bent out of shape when I made a joke. I will make inappropriate jokes about religions, retards, fags, abortion, patriotism and everything else holy. Expect it. But in this case, I took on love. He lost it.

3. I hate you and love you all at once.

2. I’m looking for a new love baby. A new love baby. Yea, yea, YEA! Yes, it’s a song, but it’s also a mantra for me. I’m stepping into some more experimentation well beyond just porn. Photography, art, working out, sex. It’s beyond all these. Yes, relationships too. I want to try some new things. I am looking for new things to love. Do I mean people? Yes. In fact, my heart has begun to flutter again. Fuck, it’s been a long time since I felt the damn thing beat.

1. Confirmation. I am having a midlife crisis. Welcome to it. Now where’s my sports car and 21 year old?

Forty-Three Arbitrary Things

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So here’s 43 things that have nothing to do with anything. Random thoughts, off the top of my head. Some are explicit. Some are wishes. Some have no fucking reason to exist.

1. I want to fuck a porn star. I’ve defined a porn star. I’ve chatted with a lot of people about favorite porn stars and more. The most interesting aspect is no fucking porn stars even bat an eyelash — virtual or otherwise — at me. I did have a brief discussion with a web-only actor who explained that even the hint of association with a barebacker just labels you and hurts your chances within the condom world (even though most bareback in the private world).

2. I want to write, cast and direct a porn “adventure.” While making this list, might as well get the porn stuff out of the way. Calling it a porn film isn’t quite correct and expounding on the idea might give someone too much information to steal it away. Ideas, you see, can’t be copyrighted or patented. A space exists where porn can explore. A market exists between amateur and web and DVD and everywhere else.

3. Porn, sex and fantasy doesn’t have to be stupid or lack a plot. My fantasy fuck fiction proves that. Believe me, there’s sex. Readers needed to get through a few chapters before finding a single fuck. Urged on to write more, I do. Not everyone loves it and some even criticize it, but somehow, the words continue to flow.

4. Asians are hot. Early, as you jerk off to videos or photos, this ideal of the perfect man develops and you go for smooth, white, tan, muscular, lactose-intolerant, twinks, 23 to 24½ years old with dirty blond hair and cut cocks no more than 7¾ inches long. But then one drunken horny night, you venture forth and try a Latino, African American or Asian on for size. I think I’ve tried every nationality and, I must say, each has an open invitation. As the exploration has continued and I’ve met more (and fucked more), I’ve found Asians to be among the most enjoyable experiences. More to come on this one, I hope.

5. I don’t know why incest turns me on. A forbidden taboo, perhaps, but part hopes to experience it as the third in a three way. Two brothers, a father-son, even the far-fetched cousins or uncle-nephew works. Documented proof would be needed, just to satisfy the doubting Thomas in me. Sometimes these porns claiming brothers, no matter the promises don’t convince me. Even the twins and triples are worry-some since I know how well Photoshop can work. Still, I get a lot of pleasure from watching. I just want to exist between two (or more) someday.

6. What’s love got to do with it? I’ve decided absolutely nothing.

7. Glory holes aren’t always anonymous. I will not stick my cock into any glory hole. I need to see who is on the other side before pushing my cock through. No matter if an ass is backed up to the hole, I need to get a glimpse of the man on the other side. So I may not know his name, but it’s not entirely anonymous if I’ve seen his face, is it. Which leads us to the next one…

8. I am picky. Sometimes it reads like I’ll fuck it if it’s got a pre-lubed ass. I’ve actually had people just say send directions and they’ll come running. I have got to have a photo and some basic stats before I’ll invite anyone to my hotel room. Sorry gents. I really do need something more than that. I know, your mama think’s you’re one hot potato, but I sure as hell might be disappointed.

9. I believe every massage should end with a happy ending. Sorry, I don’t care if you’re a straight massage therapist, but your hand better end up on my cock with a whacka-whacka at the end of my hour or 90 minutes. It’s a dirty little secret of a massage therapist, but I really think most of them do it but just don’t like to admit it.

10. The only thing headless should should be horsemen. At Halloween. Seriously, I see the hot-as-shit photos of these guys all over the place but it stops at the neck.

11. Stop lurking, start commenting. I know a lot of people read this blog and don’t say a goddamn word. At some point, my friends, stop it and start writing! I want to hear from you!

12. Why do bottoms expect the top to make all the decisions? Just because I want to stick a cock in an ass doesn’t mean I always want to drive to the market or want to choose what’s for dinner.

13. Men break down into four categories: gay, six-pack gay, straight-bottoms and straight. Now subcategories exist, but I do believe those are the major categories of men. I do not count “situationally gay” men (as in, men in prison). I don’t care what you claim to be or how you live your life or what your lifestyle claims or whatever your religious beliefs might put you. And the Kinsey Report can attempt its gray area numbers all it wants (I honestly respect that report). Six-pack gays are men who claim to be straight but with a little alcohol (or other substance) and persuasion, they suck cock, get fucked or otherwise have sex with men. Call them bi or they have some sort of selective memory about their sexual encounters, they’re leaning heavily on the gay side of the fence. Now straight bottoms are men who likely are straight but, for whatever reason, like the butt-sex and a warm cock is much preferred over a cold strap-on any day.

14. Is is really possible for a man who’s 35 years old or younger to date a man who’s 40 years or older without the older man being a sugar daddy? Just a question. If you’re less than 35 years old, legitimately interested, hit me up with an answer.

15. Do we ever really want Tom Cruise to come out of the closet? No. No we don’t. Please stay in. Thank you.

16. If Lady Gaga is this generation’s Madonna, Adam Lambert is this generation’s Liberace. Snap.

17. Funny thing, I don’t usually get to fuck on my birthday. Even when I was in a relationship, it never seemed to work out. Or we went out and I got to drink so much and I came home fucked up enough that I passed out.

18. Why won’t bareback hook-up sites let me promote my blog? Maybe I could promote their hook-up sites? Are you listening BarebackRT.com? A little quid-pro-quo? Might even help me with my out-of-town hook-ups! Or maybe another site might take me on… anyone listening?

19. I’m bi. Bi-platform that is. I love Macs but I can’t completely convert over, as much as Mac-lovers want. I must keep one foot firmly planted in the Windows world. So, please allow me just a little Windows in my life.

20. My nipples do nothing for me, but my balls are a different story. I know men whose nipples are hardwired to their cock (or their brain, since that’s truly the biggest sex organ). But any talented bottom can find multiple spots on and around my balls that send shivers down me timbers in the most amazing ways.

21. It’s 420 somewhere, but believe it or not, it’s never been 420 for me. I’ve never smoked anything. Not pot or anything. And I’m very anti-smoking but very non-judgmental, which seems sort of like an oxymoron. But the truth is it’s smoking for 40-plus years that shortened my Mother’s life and therefore why I cannot stand the smell, even for a short duration fuck. Sorry smokers.

22. If you read this, include a 22 at the conclusion of your comments even if you comment nothing. Or are you a scanner like me and miss the details of what people are really writing?

23. The Wish List remains open. Just because my birthday has past doesn’t mean gift giving season is over. You can see the most recent Amazon Wish List at http://amzn.com/w/7O8PS2941J38.

24. I cried on my birthday. Now explaining this one away might be tough. It came after I wrote my birthday entry, which might make my gray-day explanation seem a little more gray than I thought. Indeed. As I sat and thought about it, I realized one thing. As many people are there are who care about me in my life, my mother was the last one who truly cared for me. That little distinction disturbed me, rattling me to the core, which allowed a moment of grief to pour out. That and every where I went, every single retail outlet encouraged me to purchase my Mother something to commemorate her day. The last thing I need to purchase for my mother is the date of her death for her marker.

25. Just because you have muscles doesn’t make you God’s gift to humanity or gaymanity so get a clue. Still, I’d fuck the attitude out of you.

26. Do I want a boyfriend? Maybe. Would I stop fucking around if I had a boyfriend? No. Would I expect him to stop fucking around? Uh, no. In fact, I’d hope he’d show up with a loaded ass, thankyouverymuch.

27. I’d like to sponsor a giant Twitter/Blogger Meet-Up in Fall 2010. Anyone interested? I’ll only do it if 27 people respond to this posting in the comments section. Other bloggers willing to participate should also respond and encourage. We would need a sponsor to help make it happen, too. And don’t forget to notice the appropriate response to 22.

28. Yes, I really love Diet Coke that much. When I met someone this past trip to Denver, that was one of his curiosities. Thought I’d clear that up.

29. Still hoping to mentor a young top. Only one young man seemed semi-serious about pursuing this option and I’m patiently awaiting to see if he continues that effort (will he get all the way to 29 to see this?). I wonder if anyone would seriously want to make that effort and continue to ask me questions, seek my advice and ask me more?

30. If you don’t send gift or donations, I really enjoy e-mails, especially with photo attachments. Seriously. Some of the best things I receive are note with hot photos and wishes. Personal notes that don’t include anything other than, “wish you were here.” My Montana buddy gets a special shout out for just that.

31. I’m traveling so much this year, I want to earn Delta Medallion status. I’ve never flown first class. I hope to some day. Maybe I will if I can ever get to Medallion status. I need to fly 10 more round-trip flights this year to get silver status, so I just might get it. I hope so. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll get an upgrade someday. I tried to get one to Denver, but a little screw-up cost me a chance to get it.

32. I live seven miles from the house I grew up in. It’s not really by choice, but it happened. I lived away from Georgia for 18 years before returning here about seven years ago, but now I’m back. Who knows, now that both my parents are gone, how much longer I will be here.

33. If you’re stupid, please stop reading here and kill yourself. Gun. Bullet. Aim. Trigger. At head. Shit, you missed again. Please reload. Not to go off on a rant here (but I will) if I get another asshole who asks me for a fucking photograph (and doesn’t bother to look at the “about me” picture with the “iBi” right next to my face) I’m going to personally purchase the gun, load it and send it to him with instructions on how to blow his pretty little head off. Dumb ass bottoms. Smart bottoms, it’s the dumb ones that give you a bad name.

34. Thunderstorm enthrall me. Something about the power of the wind, rain and static in the air make them enjoyable. So I listen, watch and enjoy them. Spring is upon us and I enjoy them. Of course, the tornado side effect is not something that I’d enjoy experiencing. Stay just this side of dangerous. My geekiness extends to watching the weather radar and seeing the track of the storms.

35. Why is 35 considered the end of gay life as we know it? Even those my age look for those 35 or younger. What’s the deal?

36. Is it bad to admit you’re in therapy? For a while, Hollywood seemed to relish the status symbol of having a shrink. As I went through the painful experience of my Mother’s death (and some profound choices made to help her along that path), I knew seeking someone to vent my frustrations and emotional issues would be helpful to me later. So I have. It’s not a sign of weakness but one of wellness, in my opinion. But for some reason, some folks treat it as if I’ve admitted to being fitted for a straight jacket. I’m not crazy, although some in my life might beg to differ but not for reasons that have anything to do with this blog. Shortly after Mother’s passing, I recognized the stress in my life needed an outlet that I would not be able to fix on my own through any ordinary coping mechanism. So I chose to spend a little time exploring myself.

37. I’m thinking of dumping TiVo and cable and switching over to DirecTV. I think it will be cheaper, but I can’t find anyone offering BBC America in high-definition yet and I really want to see Doctor Who in HD. I’m truly embracing my geekiness.

38. Mountains over the beach. Believe me, I won’t turn down a trip to either but a cottage in the mountains seem so much more relaxing. Well, fuck, I’ll take a bungalow at the beach too. I’m a pale white boy and I don’t tan, so don’t expect me out at the pool all day with tan lines to prove later. And mountain rainbow trout over a nice conch fritter is fine with me anytime. Among the sexiest experiences I think I’ve ever had was sitting in the hot tub in the hills, the snow sizzling around us and our hair freezing into odd shapes. But the cabin fires were warm and we kept each other warm that evening in interesting ways. The beach had less clothing and, well, I did have a five-way on a B&B roof in Key West. Take me anywhere a bunch of gay men gather!

39. Are poppers really all that cool? Fuck yes.

40. I love roller coasters and amusement parks. Not crap stuff either; I’m an aficionado and can speak to parks and coasters as such. That said, I suffer from acrophobia with the exception of riding a coaster.

41. Speaking of dichotomies, I love sushi, but hate wasabi. Don’t ever take me to a crappy, all-you-can-eat, dollar dinner near a college. Take me to a nice, fresh sushi restaurant with delicious, amazing, overwhelming sushi.

42. Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything. But it’s a shitty year to live, if you ask me.

43. Admit the truth. You want me to breed a load into you, even if you’re slightly repulsed by the idea. You want it. That’s why you read to 43. That, or you skipped to the last one (shame on you if that’s what you did).

Travel Diary: What "Brotherly Love" Means to Me…

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Is it bad that I think incest is hot?

My next destination indicates it’s a place where sibling affection thrives and all I can think of are two hot brothers getting it on. Fuck, I’d take a cousin once removed with his great uncle. But brothers are the hottest. And I’m not talking about the fake porn with similar looking guys called “brother” or, even worse, the identical twins (or triples) from some Eastern European nation that avoid eye contact or any sexual contact.

Get away from the fake and let’s see something real.

Which brings me to my last destination before returning home. You can imagine, I’m tired as fuck. I just want to lay on the bed and have someone suck and then ride. After I cum, lick me clean and go.

P.S. On this leg of my cross-country trek, I might get to stop by the Sen. Larry Craig Memorial Stall. Maybe I should snap a photo. Which terminal is it in?

An Island of Haunting Beauty

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I am lucky enough to have many friends on this here blog-o-sphere and many blogs I follow and enjoy reading. But I must make sure everyone has visited Ryan Sullivan’s Island (available at http://www.ryansullivanisland.com/).

First, his video entries provide a certain cinéma vérité of life at the world’s most notorious bareback porn producers, Treasure Island Media. TIM is, by far, my favorite.

Second, recent movies cover the efforts of the filmmaker’s brother to appear in a TIM movie. The latest entry (which should be watched last) provides for one of the most delicate, incredible and beautiful moments I’ve ever seen on film. Yes, I’m even talking about so-called “real” movies.

Read him and watch this young filmmaker’s movies. I have no doubt that Ryan Sullivan (also known as Sully) will be someone we will watch in the future.