THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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GET IT? RED SEAS. DAMN, I'M FUNNY. |
Hey do y'all remember my episode of a few months back when I asked a guy out and he stood me up? Well, he and his boyfriend have just moved in together. They invited me over for dinner Friday -- and to stay the night. Just my damn luck. Finally get to sleep over with this guy, in separate beds though. And for whatever sick reason, I'm gonna do it. In all actuallity, he's a really sweet person, as is his boyfriend. I guess one of these days, I'll find someone other than old Lefty. |
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In my experience, gay men are not any more promiscuous than straight men. In fact, most of the polyamorous or anti-relationship men I know are straight. However, my friends and relatives do not constitute a statistically meaningful sample. And I know I'll get flamed for asking, even though it was intended as just a question... as you are an oppressed white male and feel that it is your sacred right to stereotype everyone else and anyone who tells you otherwise is just an evil "white-male-bashing...PC thug"(Simpsons quote) |
CUT IT OUT!!! Why do you keep syaing this, what good is it doing you, what good is it doing me? what in the hell does it have to do with anything you have said here? I Self fulfilling prophecy by Frued, call me a bitch enough i will begin to think I am one. I didn't say anything about promiscuity. I said "prowess" Perhaps I would have been more accurate if I said "power" . I was referring to gay sex in general. Sex betwen men in general is more honest and straight forward. How do I know? Becasue I just do and you will have to trust me on that one (jesus!?>!?!?!). Secondly I work around gay men, and i have for many years, I have close gay male friends. Jim, am I far off base? gay sex is more honest simply becasue men can be men. straight men have more in common with gay men than most choose to accept. gay or straight, we are still men, we all have peckers that long to be diddled with. Where as with women, we often have to contort or hide true sexual selves to appease the woman. To not appear like a "beast" or a "pig". My comment to Jim was unrealted to the text that followed as far as promiscuity goes. I made no mention of gay male promiscuity, just the openess that two men can have. In a straight relationship, women have all of the sexual control, they decide when and where and how. Usually the man will be accepting. personally I can't recall the last time I turned my wife down for sex, but I can tell you the last time she turned me down. And I suspect I am not alone in this type of situation. Do you see what i am saying? Do you understand? Please say yes,. because I don't want to get into it with you |
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patrick- can you kind of explain this? i mean, i'm wondering if it's also part of the drama where women have to act a certain way so as not to be seen as sluts. |
because of the proliferation of feminism in the 70s and 80s, men were taught to feel ashamed of their sexual desires. Many young boys today were raised in single parent homes, usually by their mother, i am one of them. I have strong feminist instincts, simply because I was raised by three women, mom, sis, grandma. Ask my wife, I am a totally pussy at times. i grew up hearing my mom talk shit about my dad and i grew up not knowing to be a man a times, instead I learned to be a child to get my ways. SO NOW......in the 90s, many men are starting to accept the way we are sexually, some women realized the backlash the feminist ways and what effect they may have had on the contemporary man, we are on the virge or even in the midst of another sexual revolution. Many women are disapproving of the sexual uptightness feminism of the 70s and 80s. The best example of this would be strip clubs and the rise in female patronage. Women stopped blaming men for the "objectivication" of women in these environments. Women of the 90s have realized their inherent balance of power in that type of environment and many are getting rich from it. ROCK ON! Pornography is more accepted then it ever was. People are more honest with themselves and each other. Women aren't as critical of men and their pornography and in fact many are involved with their men and their personal porn collection. Straight men are taking it up the ass in record numbers by their girls, anal sex and the openess about it has sort of been the catlyst for this new sexual liberty. Men are no longer being called "perverts" as much because we are coming to terms with our sexuality on the whole. am I making sense? I realize when i get on one of these rants I often mispell and leave words out wholly which can deter from my point...... anyway |
YES! exactly. I always feared being deemed a "pervert", so i often hid my sexual desires from various partners along the way......this has since changed after being married, but yes you have the correct line of thinking |
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no surprise |
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want to end up like that picture Nate showed us of a girl with an apple up her ass. |
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fuck her in the ass and then wipe your dick on the curtains |
J....you are one hell of a wife |
true story. |
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Speaking of people who love me, the Map Library Boy is slowly but surely falling under my spell. He wants me. I can feel it. I went in there early to look for a map I didn't really need. I pretended to look for it for a few minutes and then went to ask him for help. He's so pretty when he smiles. He helped me find it, asked me questions, expressed an interest in my life ("Why do you need a map?" see?? see????) and just kept flashing his fantastic back at me. I would really like to touch him. Then later when I was working I stopped to talk to him. I made a joke, he made a joke, it was good stuff. One of my co-workers kept gushing that she hopes things work out for us. I don't think she realizes that at this point it's all Me worshiping Him from Afar. At least he knows my name now, though. I'll get him. Soon. But first I need to finish moving that rubbertree plant. |
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Um.. Since I have nothing to compare gay sex to, having never dabbled in un-gay sex, I'm not sure if I can back up what you said. But I'm gonna try: "I admire the sexual prowess of gay men, gay sexuality is the most honest i believe." -- God. Honesty in gay men is something I have seen VERY few times. Unfortunately. "gay men do not have to contort their sexuality like straight me do to appeal to their female counterpart." -- Hmmm... well with gay men, you have that whole top/bottom thing, and if you're a top/bottom, and attracted to someone who is the same as you, yet you still want them, there is a significant contortion done to achieve a goal. "There is little manipulation, gay man A understands Gay man B so they fuck and can walk away if they want. Assuming the said gay man is out and comfortable and living happily free of blatent discrimination." -- I agree. There are some instances when men you have sex with fall immediately in love and want to spend forever with you. Sometimes you just want sex. Once. Never again with that person. And usually that's mutually agreeable. Now, to address J's comment: "Jimbo,am I a sick fuck or what?Why do you think they invited you to spend the night? I think you might be shy,they probably both wanted you,you just didn,t charge into their room with a woody." -- Well see it's just an odd situation all around. The guy I had it bad for, has stated -- in no uncertain terms -- to other friends, that he does not "like" big men (translation, overweight) in that way. So I don't see an attraction there. Same with his boyfriend. Last night, however, I hung out with them at our usual Thursday Happy Hour/Karaoke night, and I got a weird vibe. I truly hope that they aren't planning anything, because I would view it as pity, even if that isn't their intent. I also, have no desire to sleep with either of them while they are a couple. So, Patrick, being gay is just as complicated, as apparently being straight is. |
That, and my experience led me to the conclusion that gay sex is alot more straight forward. I didn't mean honesty in terms of everyday honesty, but i think can be more themselves in bed with men.......well i could cite personal examples from both sides of the spectrum but i will spare everyone thanks anyway jim, I hope nothing was misunderstood ro misconstrued in a negative way |
Not at all. You're one of the more positive persons in Sorabjiiland. :-) |
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I have a big crush on the Map Library Boy, and at this point my biggest daydream about him involves touching him in some innocent way in some normal place. That's the way it goes with boys I like. It starts out very innocent. I think he's shy. I really like boys who are shy. When I get the feeling that it was difficult for them to muster up the courage to talk to me, but they did it anyway because they really wanted to...that's the best. Boys who are bold turn me on and scare me. I have a hard time relaxing around them. |
No offense, but I totally understand Patricks "catty" comment in another thread now, after reading Lucy's here. She sure seems to like to provoke him. I agree with nate, she seems to have big shiny buttons that are easy to push, and so would patrick, it seems. Maybe we can keep our fingers to ourselves for a while. Having no experienc ewith gay sex, but based on my interactions with all sorts of people, It seems to me that sex be sex, and it can be as honest or as dishonest as the two or more folks want it to be. Jim- post more. I like reading your stuff. |
Ok. So Friday afternoon came, and I departed work to meet my former crush's new boyfriend on the subway. Got back to their place, watched some TV, then a delicious dinner. We decided to go see "Sleepy Hollow," which had me jumping the whole time. They liked it but it didn't scare them. Back to their place, where we watched some more TV and then to bed. Thankfully my concerns about "something happening," were unfounded. *WHEW* They have the sweetest little dog too. Saturday morning, homemade pancakes, followed by a trip to a local megamall. They were sweethearts and drove me home, vs. subwaying home. So I did have a great time with them. :) Stay tuned for the next chapter of "As PajamaBoy Turns." |
LUNCH WITH MY MOTHER sunday, nov. 22, 1999. "where you gonna go, nordstrom cafe?" my friend knew about the history that my mother and I had there, how she used to take me there all the time in junior high and high school, how when I went to college she gave me her nordstrom card so I would never go hungry, so I could always charge a nice cranberry turkey salad. "no. it's right by the cashmere sweaters. she'd know it was a ruse. besides, we have to eat somewhere in her coupon book." "the entertainment book?" "yeah, that goddamn thing." "all the restaurants in there suck." "yeah. the ones that have, you know, customer bases don't need the book. I think we're going to hamburger mary's. I don't get to do the bouillabaisse for thanksgiving, so I'll get the crab salad. she said the coupon was good for $11. anyway, I have to go, I'll call you later." my mother only gave herself half an hour to get ready and come out to get me, but she was right on time. she honked the horn, and I opened the curtain and waved, thinking, ok, at least she won't do that again. a few seconds later, as I was turning the lights and heat off, she honked again, and I yelled, "OK, MOM, I'M COMING!" I got in the car and she told me that I shouldn't be outside with wet hair. some things never change. a lot of things never change. her hair was dry and curled and colored and styled and perfect. she said the hairdresser, who also used to do my hair, had asked about me. I used to get my long hair curled with elaborate spiral perms when I was in high school. I was told that the curl lasted longer if you let the perm solution dry in your hair overnight, so every couple months I would go home with my hair in tight plastic rods, smelling of chemicals. "yeah, cynthia hasn't changed a bit," my mother told me. when she did my hair, cynthia, a pretty and chatty woman with fake hair and tan, was probably the age I am now. I remembered her telling a story about how she met some guy and they went to the pendleton roundup, a rodeo way out near the idaho border, and I had wondered if she had been obliged to sleep with him since it was a weekend trip. I was about 16, I thought it was a big deal. "did she ever get married?" "no." after we drove around for 15 minutes looking for a parking space, I talked her into paying for a space in a garage. as we walked down the stairs, I saw a toothbrush on one of the steps and thought, "I know my mother is going to say something about this toothbrush." "oh, it looks like someone left their toothbrush here." we started walking and my mother fretted about my wet head ("mom, I never get sick. you know that."). we got there and found out the restaurant was closed. forever. I should have known. our coupon-book lunches never work out. last time the place we wanted to go was closed so we had to drive around to other places. but since we'd already parked in a garage, I told her I wanted to stay downtown. "we could just go to nordstrom cafe," I said. "just like the good old days." the old days were sort of good. we went shopping most weekends. in french class on monday, mme. holden would ask us what we did that weekend, and I'd usually say, "j'ai fait du shopping." I'd try on millions of esprit outfits while any of the shopgirls who didn't already know us would ask my mother if I were a model. I had no idea what I was going to be when I grew up, but I knew it was going to be spectacular. then I'd go home with my new pretty thing to wear and try it on, wishing I had somewhere to wear it to besides the mall. we both got the ginger beef stir-fry. and my mother asked when nordstrom raised their coffee prices up from 25 cents to a dollar. the sign by the condiment bar put a positive spin on it. something about competitive prices and high quality and "as always, refills are complimentary." the 16-year-old cashier pointed at another sign. "august 16. a lot of people have asked about it." this kid obviously had no idea about the quarter-coffee nordstrom tradition. my mother and I probably started having lunch and coffee at nordstrom before he was born. "I thought they'd keep their quarter cup of coffee forever," my mother said. I decided not to tell her about my recent observation that some things do change, generally for the worse. I had thought about that the day before, all stoned in a really expensive matinee, while watching a bunch of long, boring pepsi and car commercials before the previews started. there were other things I didn't tell her. downstairs I'd almost pointed out the tall boots I'd bought there. I knew she'd be really pleased to hear that I didn't have to pay for them. but then I remembered that she would ask me who had bought them and why. no. I would tell my father things ("dad, the real reason he's given me so much money is because he likes me."), but I didn't want my mom to hear them. I tried to cheer her up. "I think it might just be a downtown thing. it's understandable. they don't want riffraff coming in here and just ordering a 25-cent cup of coffee and hogging the view. I think it's still a quarter at lloyd center." "yeah, I think it is at washington square too." she complained about the food. the rice and snow peas were mushy. before she took it back, she whispered to me, "do you want a piece of my meat?" I said no. an old woman came up to our table and asked about my food. I looked at my mom. "well, I like it. it's good," I told the woman. "I thought it was just awful," my mother countered. "it was so bad that I took mine back." "well, I guess I won't get it then," she said. "thank you." the new meal came, a barbequed pork sandwich with mashed potatoes. "do you think these potatoes are supposed to be cold?" my mother asked me in a mock whisper. "I don't know. let me try." I had a bite, they were barely warm. "no, I think they're supposed to be hot. but I think you should just eat them." "yeah." I was glad. she would take anything back for any reason. when I went out with my friends, we were always the pleasant customers who tipped well. but when I was with my mom, I always ended up being part of the problem customers. when I lived in kiev, a male friend of mine started going out with this beautiful russian girl for whom nothing was ever good enough. she turned her nose up at everything, was always sending things back. after I started calling her "kitty princess" behind her back, I started calling her "kitty princess" in front of her too. she had no idea what I was saying. and one day I started feeling bad about criticizing her because I realized, "she reminds me of my mother!" the mashed potatoes were really good. I asked my mom if she was going to finish them. "well, it's not like I have to rush. I mean, they were already cold." |
My God... you have learned Nate's knack for writing! Congrats! :) |
I'm trying to write every day, and I'm glad to have somewhere to put some of it. there are many good writers here. they're as common as suvs are on the streets of portland. it's good not to feel special. |
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my friend once said he was severely tempted by a gorgeous teenager he'd been buying drinks all night at a fancy mafia billiards club. he was new to town and hadn't figured out that not every woman was necessarily after an american boyfriend but maybe just a one night pay-per-view sort of thing. so after she'd been hanging out with him for a couple hours, she told him she was his for the night for $100. he freaked and said no, then she got really pissed at him for wasting her time. he saisd he almost said yes. maybe he did say yes. that was just the story I got. I knew a woman who had been a prostitute in soviet times, but I never talked about it with her. |
Fucking pigs all. Futhering the spread of disease and vermin. And they have loose pussies to boot. Like to hit em in the head with a shovel. Oh yeah, the same for the vodka swilling commies too. Ain't it funny. All the comisars daughters now suck dick for a living. Wearing American jeans no less. |
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Didn't know my mother Pat. Maybe it was yours. |
and if you gonna rag on my mother at least be funny about it in my experience the guys who use the term "faggot" seriously and seriously resent gays were usually fighting the urge to eat a dick themselves, so on behalf of the others around, i envite you to swallow the big one, it's ok, homosexuality is alright, it's a personal choice.....REALLY it's ok!!! and how can such a fucker use the name of one of the greatest sabbath songs as a handle...i don't think ozzy would promote your bullshit...on the contrary |
Homophobe, nah. Some good friends were that way. I never took the plunge though. Men are dirtbags. Pussy is sweet. Always wanted to fuck a pretty TS though. FYI, The SABBATH song was warpig(s) with an S. If you don't know what a warpig is, please ask a local biker. Don't take it so personal. I only shoot at generic targets and small animals. Words don't hurt, now do they. My thoughts, as nihilistic as they maybe, are a bit of a catharsis my donkey friend. So go in peace to love and serve the Lord. FTW |
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man. |
If I were a gay man, I probably would get pretty tired of all the guys who wanted to suck my dick but just called me a fag because they were too gutless to face themselves for what they are. yeah, i pick more creative stuff than that out of my ass every time I shower. |
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And I'm out of vodka. Damnit! |
just a theory. |
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he's no homophobe. he's just a big dumb jerk! :) And I only meant that in the kindest, gentlest way. |
I knew Chaka Chan had noble lineage. Love and kisses there PJB. Thanks for sticking up for me. You do recognize true anarchic hate when you see it. You're OK even if...well ya' know. And all because I stepped in dog doo-doo on my way to work yesterday and ruined my new penny loafers. Oh well, back to tending the flower garden. Anyone for tea and krumpets. Gasoline..duct tape..metal container..cigarette.. pack of chidren's jacks.... And a touch of oregano. Peace from MLK's mountaintop in Memphis. Blessed be to you all and good bye. FTW for good, Over and out from the KON. |
Damn dyslexia |
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saturday I am going back to the volcano. I am going to go underground. I am going to eat pork tenderloin with gravy. |
hydroza, i have to honestly say i assume they measured the reactions by the neuron activitiy, they could have had other means for their testing, but's it's over a year since i read it, i think you are right to a certain extent, |
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For the record, the scent that caused the most blood flow was the scent of cinnamon buns. Vanilla was second. My brain is too full. |
I live in a world that's surreal I cry and I lie and I wonder why I'm not touching the things that I feel (Captain Tractor) |
i wear vanilla extract sometimes. so, that's what it was. |
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