bj's gay porno-crazed ramblings
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
The last few posts haven't been as interesting or creative as I prefer (tired link to scarey 'escort'; recycled jockstrap pics that look almost identical to the ones posted on the 'auction' page; pic of some guy in my crotch - oh wait, that was good) - and this one will most likely be no more creative or interesting, but it will be longer, and longer is always better. Thursday met up with Mr CGM13 and he watched me book-shop, hemming and hawing over the purchase of some 27 AFTER DARK magazines (see pic below, and if you don't recognize the man on the cover, you are no longer allowed to read this page). After getting a good deal on them, and some gay mystery novels (no link; I try to limit linking to auctions to once every 10 days, so you'll have to find the auctions on your own), I carried the heavy load (who doesn't like a like heavy load?) as we hung out by the newish West Side Piers Park. That night, after an ungodly expensive cab ride, we discovered that we misread the Eagle's DRESS CODE - apparently leather is mandatory, and the other tidbits just tell you what can, and cannot be worn with your leather gear. So we didn't get to the 2nd and 3rd floor until it was late, and all the hot, swarthy, waiting leathermen had left. Their loss, right?
My guest was smart, and decided to head back to his hotel rather than spend more money on cabs; but alas, only a few feet from the Eagle, my cab hits his cab! Only a light tap, but an argument ensued, not between the cabbies, but between a doorman at one of the new scarey hetero bars on the same block as the Eagle (very, VERY scarey bars!) and the 'hit' cabbie. My cabbie calmed him down, but the poor guy was so flusterred by it, he took Mr Chas many many blocks out of his way.
My cabbie took me directly to HOUSE OF REGRETS, and man, that place hasn't looked scarier! Pacing around for several decades, I notice a nice looking, somewhat in the shadows, possibly furry boy. He moves in a 'c'mon in' manner, I 'c'mon in', zippers are undone, his face is beautiful, his mouth is warm and slurpacious, his chest hairy, and he even allows for some brief making out. But this doesn't last long; apparently, my reciprocation wasn't desired, he got bored fast, zipped up, looked uncomforatble until I got dressed, and another 30 decades of pacing later, I had bad sex with an uninteresting man.
Saturday was work, then cheap frozen margaritas at this cool Mexican restaurant I know in the East Village. Two 'grandes' later, we head to the dog run to pick out boyfriends. My weak bladder led us home, Mr. Guest looked at profiles on BIGMUSCLES4U.com, my head spun while I tried to relax, then he forced me to go out for beer. Or food. Oh yeah, food at Life Cafe - Mr Guest drooling over more local boys, lots of rain and people acting silly in the rain, then beer. and Bears. The Bear I wanted (curly hair, curly beard, and tons of curly hair poppin out from the back of his t-shirt's neckline - slurp!) seemed to lose interest in the place. Two beers later, we left; my guest in a cab (which apparently got hit - what is it with country boys not getting along with NYC cabs?) me on foot home. That Grace Jones songs pops into my head, thus the download for Sunday morning.