Really Now?

"If U got a long dick like my man, God has blessed U with a special tool U can't get in the stores. Anyone know what I'm talking about? Holla!"


A friend of mine posted this to his Facebook page. Bemused at first, seriousness crept in, and I began to not laugh so much. I mean really? Is that all that there is to gay life for my friend, just a big dick attached to a body. So you don't care about deep convos before fallin' asleep? No humor? No laughs? No time enjoyin' one another's company? All that matters is inches in his pants? Huh.

Now don't get me wrong. I do believe a dick is a beautiful thang, in any shape or size. My question is what do you do when not using the salami? Burp it and put it bed? Maybe I'm having one of those uppity mid-life moments again. LOL Been having those a lot lately. Staring youth in the face and shaking my head, not necessarily in disgust, but in disbelief. Then again, I wonder... Was I ever that conceited at his age (22) ????

Naaaaah. I bet I was worse! LOL

Wakey, Wakey

I'm having one those mornings today. Just getting up. LOL I'm so late. I needed to be outta this joint two hours ago, but it's rare I have the luxury to sleep in...or not. I'm jus' saying. Good Morning!

Prince - Dirty Mind

Ye Olde Internet Crush

Poking fun at myself, but sharing a piece of wisdom in return...being candid and frank, as only I can be, I decided to pen my thoughts on a few of mine...

At the behest of Della, I finally "grew a pair" and confronted one of my Internet crushes on my Jonsing on him. It was more than a lil humbling, but was cathartic at the same time.

Now I say "one" of my Internet crushes because I have about four or five running concurrently. I shall not give name to any of my crushes, save for Mr. Lonzie, who er'ryone across the Blogosphere must know I had "the vapors" for that man. LOL.

Naw! No names here. Let's refer to the remaining as Crush #1, Crush #2, Crush #3, and Crush #4. Some of my blogging buds know about my attractions, some don't. I think only Corey knows about #4, because I had tell somebody, but on a whole I WILL NOT speak on #4 because, well as the saying goes, "What Happens In Vegas, Stays In Vegas." I'm not even sure #4 knows. Well, duh, actually...he should. But I digress.

Moving On...

OK. So. Crush #1 is a brother I've been drawn towards for a looooong time. Long time. I was definitely afraid to make a play for him cause I perceived myself being outta his league. And even though we've talked a few times, I found myself painfully shy to say shiite to this cat. But I did confess my interest to Della and Gayte-Keeper. Keeper's been prompting me for months to talk to #1, but I wasn't having it. I knew how the outcome would go down, blah blah blah. But it wasn't until I spoke with the wise and venerable Miss Della, [M.A.L.E.]'s newest author, that I said to myself "why not."

Let's interject the rationale behind my hesitance. It's not that I'm not cute, for I AM. In fact, I'm FAAAAABULOUSLY cute, thick, and delicious in my own respect. However, surmising what I put together on #1 personae, writing, and image, I knew I wasn't his type. Knew I didn't fit the profile. My trepidations stem in my experience that generally bruhs I'm attracted to don't find me attractive. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.Oh yeah, I'm fine for friendship, but their nevah weak in the knees over me. Not crying woe, just an observation. But young and refreshing Della raised a wonderful point. Wise and true, nothing ventured is nothing gained.

Tonight the moment allowed for #1 and I to talk through Instant Messenger and graduate to a phone call. The convo was rich, warm, and interesting. The good brother has a deliciously smooth voice, a bravado, and I can "conversate" well. (Yes, I know conversate isn't a word. It's "irregardless."Oops that's not a word either, huh?) Crush #1 has swag. Damn good swag (think T.J. Holmes and President Obama swag). Very down to Earth. His ease made it relaxing for me to confess my "sins" and we dished on a variety of topics, including him getting nekkid. (Oh Lawd! Had to really push past that part. I think bruh is Phoine. Not fine. Or Phine. But PHHHHHOINE. And yes, we discussed opinion on that too.)

As anticipated, Crush gently lemme know he wasn't interested, and I can't say I blame him given individual circumstances. Yet, dude has a clearer picture of me and my situations than anyone I know, including my circle of brothers (Toddy, Scott, Corey, Gayte-Keeper, Mike, etc etc.) so I can see us becoming fast friends and even "Brothers of the Q-hood."

Overall, I'm grateful for #1 kindness. Unlike an earlier situation in the week when another crush, #3 put me on blast, blurting out "Ew" at the suggestion I might like him (it's all good, he explained why). That was one my lower moments when I really wanted to bury myself in the dirt. Rest assured, I think Crushes #1, #3, and # 4 and I have/will have stronger bonds in the coming days, weeks, and months. As for Crush # 2? He's off the radar somewhere...I haven't spoken to #2 in possibly 3, 4, or 5 months. And Thaddeus was a pipe dream, but I can take comfort I wasn't the only man captured under Thaddy-Daddy's spell. No names. "Vapors," though.

So the point of confessing my shame? Well, guess most of all, I come away from this feeling a little better confronting fear. In real life I tend to be very shy. While my good brother Thomas has ascribed me being rather "in-your-face" at times, I'm not. Oft times I'm reserved. Although I can speak my mind, share intimate details others would find quite embarrassing, when it comes to finding a mate? Oh, I'm just a big ole gay neophyte.

"Totally unprepared am I,
to face a world of men....
Timid and shy and scared am I,
of things beyond my ken"

Yes, boys and girls, Ian finds himself unworthy of the fellas who've caught his eye. Whether because he feels inadequate due to financial status, wealth, maturity, common sense, experience, weight, mental health, what have you, without the aid of alcohol or other substances to take him to level of "brass balls," he get caught up in his own defeatist notions. Perhaps he creates a self-fulling prophecy, and probably so, but tonight I summoned courage to go with it, laid my cards on the table, and see where would things go. Taking the chance is the learning experience, not the outcome.

While the outcome didn't to my favor, I'm that much closer to feeling more relaxed in my own skin. The lesson is an infinitesimally small one, but still a lesson nevertheless. Maybe I'm not in the position to dole out advice, given how I'm fighting emotions of humiliation at the moment, but I will say take a chance on a situation. If you personally are presented with an opportunity, go for it. It's better to speak your mind and know what happened, then to never have and NOT know what COULD HAVE happened.

So take a good laugh at my shame, I am, and then apply this in whatever means are at your disposal right now. How's it go again? Carpe Diem? Seize the Day. The possibility may just work to your advantage, it may not, but you'll never know unless you take the chance...

How Do You "Do It?"

It astonishes me, really, how reserved I can be sometimes. Or at least, I should say, how much I pretend to be "hip" with things folks do, that is certainly not in my nature. Hmm. Bear with me as I ramble. It's the wee hours of the morning and I got woken up, still sleepy.

I dunno. Phone sex, camming, all those things I normal would keep private, seem to be prevalent with folks these days. I guess I'm too old school, too modest, but I prefer to have my encounters up close and personal, not on the phone. To me it just makes me more in the "amorous mood" and without you here, and I have is myself (quite boring)!

Corey shared with me a lil tip the other week to remember these folks are not my peers, don't think of them as such, but I must admit I stand mystified and in awe. Shocked, yet titillated be the freedom of expression people have. I doubt you will ever be seeing Ian in the all-together on the 'Net (Lord, let's hope not). I do appreciate those who do however. I just wonder how do you get the balls to put yourself out for public display?

Perhaps, I'm too hung up on shit. Then again, I'm almost 40 and we all know I have my issues...

Hot Summer Night

I watched Kyle again tonight, but he got boring when he had his old stalker and I couldn't hang.

But it's hot as fuck and I'm typing this shit it the dark. Just finished reading a post on Pi's blog that made me even more horny than I was earlier...fighting down them urges earlier, but it hot and sticky. I won't get into my lengthy chat with another Blogger, cause yall would either start being embarrassed or knocking at my door! Huh! And my brothers in bloggers, Pharaoh and Thaddeus Works ain't did nothing but stoke the flames with their blog posts.

I am NOT commenting on either post. Nope. Keeping my innocent image intact. But Lawdhavmercy, but does the expression, "Turn a nigga out" mean anything to you? Yeah it's one of them nights fo sho..

I Bit Into The Apple...

Earlier I spoke of the serpent in the garden.

Well temptation offered me a bite of his apple and I admit, I took a nibble. No comments on what I'd like to do with Mr. Serpent....he has piqued my interest... but gonna save that story for a more appropriate (translation: lusty) time. Probably by tonight when I'm sitting here in the dark, alone, and horny as hell...hehehe.

But I got an email asking we what went down with A since I hadn't discussed it on the blog. Simple, our time apart provided more than just physical space. Returning home, I realized there was too much indecision in my own heart to invest in anything, so we split up. Still friends, and I mean just that, friends. No friends with benefits, just friends.

In A's defense, he's got bridges to cross. I made the venture over some of my own when I was home, now it's his turn. He'll need a good friend to turn to for support when all the drama hits the fan, and I wanna be that person. That pretty much sums up the story. Nothing dramatic. Lord know my name isn't Kendall, although I wish I had some of his problems, but what's a fat bitch like me gonna do?!?! LOL.

Whatever

One of my favorite songs by Queen Jill...

A Letter To Marcus

A Weilding The Axe/MALE/ChocolateSalsa Cross Blog Post!

Dear Marcus,

I don' know about everybody else, but speaking for myself, Marcus would you stop being a cock tease and just friggin' give a good display of the goods already.

No more teasing, bruh. We all know you're packing heat. We all know you got the ass chiseled by the hands of God, we all know you probably swing both ways (ain't no thang but a chicken wang brutha). Yeah I know you gotta keep us wantin' more, but its so frustrating.

When are you gonna do another video, huh? The B. Scott video was enticing, but I'm ready for the action. Some of us don't have the luxury or the good fortune living in the big city. Let's face it, those of us tied down by this try economic times can't afford to cross the street, let alone cross country to one of your performances. But we too want our share of your Tastykakes!

Marcus, you got the following. People would come out in droves to purchase a copy.Why not team up with your good buddy and friend, Alex Castro, and make that adult video? My light-skinned brutha, you'd be a hit. People would say "Matthew (Rush) who?"

Your only problem is figuring out which of you is gonna go where. Betcha I know you know. Yeah boy, Marcus you know the deal. Big ole boy like you, uh-huh. You wanna be top dog. Then again, as much ass shakin' I've watched you do on the Internet, maybe not. ((Ian gets guidy at the thought!))

OK, so now that you got the impetus from a loyal fan, go on, take the jump. Get nekkid already.
So, whachusay Brother Patrick? Don't make me beg...(but if necessary, I will.)

Deus Ex Machina

Ever since I was a young child, I've been fascinated with carpentry and home repair. The mechanics amaze me how things come together. Not so much interested in interior design, but the framings, wiring, and pumbling of home renovation. Let's all rebuild, turn it around, and "flip that house, baby!"

I'm addicted to HGTV's "Designed To Sell." Now if you're not familiar with the show, "Design to Sell" takes unsellable homes, fix up and retool them so that they are more presentable for sale. "Design to Sell" has several incarnations. It's filmed in Los Angeles, Chicago, Atlanta, and the metropolitan Washington, D.C. area. By far, my favorite location??? Why, Los Angeles, of course. That particular venue features uber sexy carpenter Deus Xavier Scott.

You'll haveta forgive me! I've been on a hormonal trip these last few weeks. But Deus is one fellow who could bend me over a desk a 1,000 times over! (Not that you needed to know that info) He's hot as hell. Maybe not, but I think so. He reminds me of one of my high school classmates all grow'd p. Check out Deus' arms....mmph! And he has a gentle demeanor about him, genial and friendly. He's masculine and he works with his hands. Oh yeah, he's fulfilling some fantasies here.

I couldn't find many pictures of this brother, so I included a video for those not familiar with him. The clip below includes another hot carpenter, Greg Plitt, who I think most of you should be familiar with. Anyway, enjoy Deus in his Easter finery, and if you can, browse on over to HGTV to spot "Design to Sell: LA." That ole' Easter Bunny sho' nuff didn't put him in a basket for me this morning.

Maybe some of you guys living out there on the Coast might know a thing or two about Deus? I've Googled him like crazy and found very little information. Don't know if brother is gay, straight, bi....blah, blah, blah. Doesn't matter. Just a middle aged man here, having a mid-life crisis, experiencing lusty cravings, and missing my man (or a man, depending on where Arturo and I stand right now...that explanation post is coming).

Ian's Inquiry: Who did you want in your Easter basket this morning? Did you receive your gift(s)???

Sexyeroticamatic

You know it's rare for me to discuss my sex life on the blog. I dunno. There's someting a tad gauche writing about the ebb and flow of my hormones. Then again, I figure the major of my blogging audience is either gay/bisexual or friends who know the severity of my sexual Love Jones to know the real deal. Oh yes, I'm a horny bastard!

So this morning, I'm kinda revelling in a comment my good brutha Real left yesterday for my birthday post. I won't repeat it, you can find it yourself, but it got me to thinking. Lemme do some 'splanning...

After the oh-so-nasty break up with Mr. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but often is, I put myself on the celibacy bandwagon and unfortunately it's been...ahem...some time since yours truly has laid up next to somebody. Make no mistake. I could have. There have been and are opportunities, but at this time, I'm searching for substance. Plus, to be forever honest, casual sexual encounters have never proven wise in my life. Not that Napoleon was a casual thang, but our relationship started out as such and my crazy ass tried to build upon that. Sometimes, Dear Ian, a fuck is just a fuck.

So, after eight months (damn! really???) of abstinence and now a new age, I sit here wondering "what's next?" Do I continue this journey into self-purification, wanting a life mate, not just a release for hormonal angst? Hm. And for those out you out there doing your thing, I'm not knockin' it. Hot, steamy, sweaty, energy draining, exhausting, earth movin', life changing sex is a TREMENDOUS, wonderful thang! For me though, I'm ready to exchange it all for the balm to my heart and soul. I deserve my mate in this venture.

Reviewing the laundry list of failed relationships, I have a failed marriage, too many crappy man on man sitches, and enough laughable female relations than a l'il bit. Now it's time for the solid anchor. The resounding person who'll be in my corner, who has my back. Don't we all need a few months, if not years, of love? But let me digress cause I still want the sex.

Do I really compromise, give in to my primal urges? Oh Real made me seriously ponder yesterday...my body had that reaction reading his words. Then the laugh erupted from the pit o' my stomach. See, I kinda forgot I'm still a healthy man. As long as the blood flows to where it needs to go, oh yeah, it's on. To answer my own question, I'll own up and say I made a phone call last night after hours to a certain hunky Puerto Rican-Dominican man. Yeah, I made the decision to jump off the wagon. Call it a gift to myself for my birthday.

So what happened? Ah...I'm not telling. Let me play the incorrigible tease this morning. Ha! I'll say this, I've been "awake" for some time now {insert sinister laughter here}....And Real? Brotha you got my response to your comment, right? Your day is on its way. Of course I worded it differently in your e-mail...

-Ian

Cry Me A Rivah...Then Get Yo'sef Together

Believe me. I am not intentionally having a pity party. I'm not. Well, maybe a little one.

"Negro Please! Get ovah yourself! Do what you do and keep insprining others!" says the voice of reason through cyberspace.

Leave it to your "big brother" to smack the shit outta you when your being morose an' stuck yourself Ian. A certain someone dropped the friendly prod through email, not using those exact words, but also gave me notice to quit the shit. Then he shared a wonderful community anecdote, that we all can identify with, to make me laugh my arse off. With his permission, I'll share it. Not his experience, but the overall one we'eve all faced. Thanks man. I owe you.

And you know I haven't heard the last of it. My French Fryin' Texan hasn't hit me. Oh boy! Has he sifted through the weekend's posts? Especially Friday night's? Prolly (probably) not. I'd have his tongue lashing fo' sho' if he did. Honestly though? Don't mind the tongue lashing as long Texan'll put in the right places (heh heh. There I called you out! UP me. Try to.)

I feel a little more awake now, but I'm cold as Hell! Just heard the weather man say it minus 1 outside. Minus 1?!?!?! Explains why my heat has been running nonstop. Happy Winter Solstice. Damn! Too cold, too cold....

Dyin' The Little Death

Ian's note on 12/9/2008:

Suffering from a little shame and embarrassment, I removed this blurb not long after posting.

Given some thought, plus a stern, but loving chastisement from {person I was referencing}, I decided to republish this little ditty.

Hey! We all get horned up and randy sometimes. No shame in that. Right?

Thanks to another certain someone, who shall remain nameless, I'm feelin' more than a little peculiar this afternoon.

Hm..I'm really hungry for some french fries too. Wonder why?

Need It, Want It, Gotta Have It!

*** While I gave this a label of *personal rant* label, this post is more a humorous poke at my state of being. Rest assured, I'm kewl. Just so my Fry Guy knows that. Yeah , I called you out again....read Brother, read.***
You know I love you brothers, right? Why is it the folks I know in Cyberspace can snap me outta my shit quicker than the folks I know in real time? Hm. I ask you?

My blogging brothers (and sisters) who've stopped by, left a comment, thanks goes out to you. Keep up with the comments. I do appreciate 'em.

Now I know I've been posting some finga snappin', witty-ass stuff lately, but believe me peeps, it's all a clever disguise. Lemme give you the inside scoop. Before I go off on my tangent, honorable mention thanks goes to Real for always, always, keepin' it real. He seems to be in tune with the ebbs and flow of my moods, reading in between the lines when I haven't said word the first! Cheeky monkey!Thanks brutha, you da man! Seriously.

Additional thanks also goes out ta Corey for listening to my side stories that don't get posted. A bastion of wisdom, Cor understands the triumphs, struggles, and ordeals I've been facing. Like I admitted to him recently, at 38, I thought I'd have arrived by now. Instead, well, I'm learning this is a process, learning you never really stop learning life's lessons. Your boy has been been backsliding. On the down escalator to gay adolescence. Never a good thing with me. Danger, danger, danger Will Robinson!

Make no mistake, I'm not sad. Far from it! Sexually frustrated is more like it. Rarely do I mention my sex life on the blog, save for the occasional instance on my celibacy. That doesn't mean I don't have burning, yearning, that's driving my ass crazy! Until this point, I've been reserved. Sexual discussion here seems a tad gauche. But my blog is about my life as I see fit to share and publish. Shouldn't be nothin but a thing to throw a few words atcha.

I wonder though, shouldn't I be reserved? For those who know me on the Outside, they know I'm frank, candid, and very forthcoming about sexual topics. I'm not nasty, but I have no problem discussing what do, have done, or wanna do. But here? My brothers, I didn'twant ya thinking I'm licentious, lascivious, and just plain damn oversexed. But you guys know I have that other blog, so you musta had some clue. Adina's Freak Like Me has been on my mind bad, LOL! "Freak in the morning, freak in the evening, rough neck brother that can satisfy me!" Indeed. That threshold was crossed months ago...

So what's your problem???

Well, there really isn't one. I informed Queen Hester, come Hell or High water, I'm not leaving 2008 without getting l-a-i-d. I plan on throwin celibacy out the damn window! Not that there haven't been opportunities recently, but after my oh-so-wonderful crash and burn break up with Napoleon back in August, my spirit need time to cleanse. Rid myself of all the negative energy. I was tired, am tired, of the meaningless casual sex (which is what sex with Naps amounted to). Yes, I wanna get my groove on, but I also want the love that's supposed to be attached with it. I want the real deal. Time to stop moanin' Keyshia's words 'bout love.

See here, I'll be totally honest, Napoleon took my heart when he left. But that nigga was no damn good. If I told you half the monkey shit I went through, your heads would be spinning. You'd wonder what took me until August to kick his sorry ass to the curb? Then again, you guys who have been entrenched in a man may you understand my sitch.

Love, even false love, is a powerful emotion. With Napolean, I loved him with every spare moment. Love worthy of self sacrifice love. Was willing to do things for this man I never thought I'd do. Make steps I thought I'd never take. But that relationship is gone.

Hell no! I don' miss his trifflin' ass. I could use every explicative I know in all three languages I speak and still wouldn't have enough. While I ask and pray God gives me the spirit to not speak ill of Napoleon, I personally hope I never lay eyes on mofo evah again. Eff that! Eff him! Whenever my resolve crumbles, I just remind myself of every bad habit he had, every ounce I poured into supporting him with little to no return, every tear I shed in vain, all the worry he caused when he'd disappear days on end with no contact, the shit he stole from me... I snap out of my illusion we had anything substantial. God bless him, but Napoleon is one sorry ass muthafucka!

So in August, after I slept with Naps for the last time... and I knew it was over cause the sex was just bad, I mean really, really, really, terrible...I put myself on that self-imposed celibacy wagon once more. Fast forward to now, December, and my libido is actin' out overtime. I've been handling my own, but a man can only stoke his own nut before the shit gets old.

Relief? I wanna creeeeeeeeeeeeeep! Yes, I said "No casual hook-ups. I'm waiting for the real deal," but damn fellas, tell how long you've stayed celibate in your adult life??? My hormones are itchin', time to scratch! Seeing my current straight crush, Gemini, every day don't help matters neither!

Solution? I'm three hours in any direction to Philly, DC, NYC, B-more, or Pittsburgh. All bets are off for the remainder of the year! You're dealing with a middle aged man in heat. Laugh if you wanna, but its soooo true. Besides, I know my body. I've never gone longer than six months without breaking down. At least not since I was 22 anyway. Dunno. Should be broadcasting my dirty laundry? Heh! I try to have some morals. Just because I'm a gay-, SGL-, whateverlabelyouwannagimme, man doesn't mean I need to be a heathen dawg.

The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Spiritual cleansing or no, I admit right here, right now, I need sex. My rational brain is shutting down; instinct is taking ovah! I need it, I want it, I gotta have it. And not the gentle lovemakin' kind. I mean the really dirty, sweaty, make you walk crooked the next day cause the-freak-was soooo-good kind.

Laugh with me. Part of this is in jest, part grounded in truth. In all practicality, I'm just ready to move on with this year. Ready for the Oh-Nine. 2008 licked my butt good. Time now to regroup, evaluate my past mistakes, and get my head on straight. The next few months the real adventure begins. I'll be going back to work. A decent man will step into my life. Gosh (Oh how Poindexter!) I might even marry again; have those obnoxious progeny my mum keeps wishing for me to have. With the end of this year, ends the Napoleonic Saga. Yes, Waterloo has arrived. I was so stuck. Mired down. I allowed that arsehole to take my glory.

The moral to my little story here? I'm ready for the next stage of life to begin. You know I miss going to the clubs. Miss traveling. Miss being my care free, sassy, but oh-so-wonderful self. I need only be patient. Yours truly don't need shagging the first man come along to find worth and happiness. I get too emotionally attached. Like my fave song says, "Take the time, do it right, we can do it, baby do it tonight." Well, maybe not tonight, but soon....LOL. Thanks for reading my humorous rant.

-Ian.