Thursday, December 20, 2007

Oh please, like there needs to be a reason.






Get it or get out


One interesting thing I've noticed, as homosexuality becomes more and more mainstream, is that almost all straight people still don't "get" it. Whether they're on the conservative or progressive end of the spctrum, or somewhere in between, they still don't understand what it is to be gay.

After years of being told "you don't choose homosexuality; it chooses you", only a few people still admit to thinking that it's a lifestyle choice. However, there's a certain disconnect between what they're told and what their hearts tell them. You can tell them "it's not something gay men choose" until you're blue in the face, and they'll accept that as a logical proposition, but deep inside there's a little voice that says, "okay, so they don't think they have a choice in the matter, but really, it can't be quite like that."

I've met otherwise intelligent, thoughtful, wise people who just can't shake off the idea that a gay man could go straight if only the right incentive could be discovered. They don't say it out loud, and they couch it in acceptable terms, but you can tell that under the surface they're clinging to some sort of free will escape clause. They believe, even if they don't admit it, that there must be some way your could reframe your life and/or your worldview to suddenly become attracted to women.

I think it all comes down to something I mentioned a few posts ago: straight people simply can't empathise with gay people, because the idea of wanting to have sex solely with your own gender, to the complete exclusion of the opposite gender, is just too alien to their own drives.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Not that I'm pessimistic or anything

My computer has finally been fixed, and I celebrated last night by playing a few rounds of Doom III, checking a few favourite blogs, and seeing if anyone new and interesting had signed up with GMM.

You know, it's weird, but scanning through gay personals and looking at pictures of hot, half-naked men actually makes me feel better about my complete lack of a love life. When I don't have the internet I can come to feel as if I'm missing out on possibilities. But with the internet, I can see with my own eyes that I'm not. Although there might be the occasional chance for romantic happiness, there are innumerable chances for something far sadder and less fulfilling than being alone.

On GMM, you see page after page of desperate, freaky, unhappy men who fight like seagulls over the occasional normal man who signs up. It feels like a competition rather than a community, with the latest halfway presentable newbie as the weekly prize.

On the blogs, you see page after page of sculpted young hunks being paid varying sums of money to bare their good stuff to any lonely weirdo with an internet connection. If I was one of them, I'm sure I'd think to myself, "I spend two hours at the gym every day and avoid carbs like the plague just so some greasy obese 50 year old can jerk off to my picture?" No wonder so many porn stars get into drugs.

By comparison, at least going to bed alone every night has a degree of dignity.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

It's very hard to live up to loyalty

Nothing much has been happening lately; my computer has been broken for nearly a month so I haven't been on GMM or anything else. However I do have one small thought to recount.

I was watching a movie last night with one of my oldest and dearest friends, and in the course of our conversation he made a dismissive gay joke.

I wasn't offended - taking offense is a sign of a narrow mind, in my opinion - but it did make me sad. It drove home the realisation I've held for a while, that there's no way I'm ever going to be able to come out to him without it completely destroying our friendship. Not because he's especially homophobic, but because he'd be so devastatingly embarassed that he never knew, even after being one of my closest friends for decades.

I'm also pretty sure that he's defended me when I'm not around, if a more casual acquaintance asks "So is GTR gay or what?" I know from my own experiences how humiliating it feels to defend someone's honour against a perceived slight, only to later discover that the slight was in fact completely true and justified. You feel like a fool. You feel betrayed. You feel like everyone's laughing at your naïveté. Humiliation is a catastrophically powerful emotion, and never more so than with this particular person.

For all our closeness and reliance on each other, we interact on a very specific level. Once, a few months ago, I pushed harder than normal and forced him to reveal more of himself than he usually does, and to be honest it was a little alarming to see how emotionally messy things were beneath the calm and convivial outer shell. It's not as if he shares every single thing about his life with me. He's mentioned certain areas of his life but not really gone into the details of why these areas are as they are, and I've learned not to push him. So really, he has no objective reason to be upset if I've kept parts of my life hidden from him.

But people aren't objective, not when their feelings are on the line.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

All this story needs is for Andre to be a prince-in-disguise

Via ninemsn, your one stop shop for all the news that's too subliterate to print:

One weekend, when Terry and the boys were away on a camping trip, I was at the local hairdressers for my weekly shampoo and blow-dry. I was browsing through one of their magazines and spotted a small, intriguing advertisement: "Discreet male escorts, available for dinners, parties or anything." I quickly checked no one was looking, tore out the advertisement and slipped it into my purse.

That evening, I dialled the advertised number. A deep, sexy male voice answered. He was called Andre. We arranged to meet in an hour at a nearby hotel. He gave me a room number and said he would be there waiting for me.

At the hotel, a gorgeous, dark-haired young man greeted me at the door, elegantly robed in a luxurious, red silk kimono. The room was softly aglow with candlelight, sensual Spanish guitar music played in the background. Andre smiled into my eyes and handed me a glass of chilled pink champagne. He was absolutely gorgeous!

Together we toasted the evening then Andre gently put my glass down on the table, took my hand and led me into an enormous, marble bathroom, where a steaming, bubbling spa bath awaited us. For starters, I was massaged and bathed in exotic scented oils ... and I'll never forget the rest! For one night only, I was a cherished and desirable woman.

I don't know which is funnier; the ridiculous "true" story that ticks all of the Harlequin romance plot point boxes, or the moronic commenters who actually think that any of this is real.

Actually, I do know which is funnier. Yay commenters!

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

I feel pressure'd

From a GMM member with the subtly evocative handle 'ICUMLOTS':

I'LL MAKE YOUR'E BLOOD PRESSURE RISE!

Indeed you will. Bad spelling does that to me.

Monday, October 8, 2007

Two wrongs make my night


I'm not very active on GMM these days, so I don't get winked very often. But the drought broke on Friday... although I kind of wish it hadn't. I looked up my winker's profile to see what kind of guy he was.

He listed himself as "attractive". After having a good look at his photos, I can fairly safely offer this advice to everyone writing a personal ad: not having any major physical disfigurements does NOT mean you're attractive!

He listed himself as "38". Many people tell little fibs about their age on GMM, but if you're 38, pal, then I'm 16.

He listed himself as "just a normal guy". But the face in the pictures suggested otherwise. You know how sometimes you can see right down deep into a person just from the way they hold themselves in photographs? His posture and expression spoke volumes about a life of self-delusion, denial and social disappointment.

So I sent him the templated 'Thanks, but no thanks' message.

Moments later I got a wink from someone else! Wow, two in one night! This new guy only had one photo... in which he wore one of those "I still live with my mother... who died in 1997" expressions.

Needless to say, he got the same response.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

My car is flamin', which makes me a flamer!

On the way home from work last night I was briefly behind a car with personalised numberplates. The numberplates read FLAYMIN.

I actually laughed out loud. Ah, the hilarious tragedy of young Asian men with an incomplete grasp of English slang. I felt like pulling up beside him and calling out, "Honey, I hate to disappoint you, but "flaming" doesn't mean what you think it means."

Of course it could be that he was gay. But I doubt it. I've yet to meet a gay man who would be caught dead behind the wheel of a Mitsubishi Lancer Evo.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Nudity on the Bounty

Via Paul Up Late, I had a look at Mutiny on the Bounty's blog. It's a unique mix of Greek travelogue and gay porn, so if you're interested in either of those things (or, even better, both) it's well worth a look.

However I'm having a hard time getting over the name. I keep envisioning the father and son from the Telstra broadband ads...

Dad: What do we need to look up on the broadband for your homework, son?

Son: The teacher says we need to find out about Fletcher Christian and the mutiny on the Bounty.

Dad: Okay, well, we'll just type "mutiny on the bounty" into the search engine, and... ooh, look, there's an entire blog about it! I'll just click on the link and... AAARRRRGGGG!!!!

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Still no good at being gay



Everyone else's caption: Hot boys asleep in the sun.

My caption: The scene of the St Valentine's Day Twink Massacre of 1929.

Friday, July 27, 2007

It needed to be said


I totally love this guy. Possibly because I'm not a fag hag.

Hi there. I am a gay man living in Los Angeles. Let me just say that I have many women friends. And I applaud the open-minded, progressive attitudes most straight women seem to have nowadays.

However, I have noticed that we've crossed over into a place where some women are just a little too comfortable with homosexuality. "Too much tolerance" you say? I'll explain.

Honestly, I am flattered when a woman says something along the lines of "you're cute. Too bad you're not straight." That's nice to hear. I'm not going into some PC tirade over a compliment. You know what though? I only need to hear it once. My friend's friend says it every time I see her. She does the rubbing my upper back back, hands in my hair shit. And you know what I want to say? "LISTEN. My being gay isn't the only reason it would never happen." Like, back the fuck up. And she's also volunteered to be my beard at events. "Great, we'll time travel to the 1950s when people in LA last did that."

I think "Will and Grace" has instructed an entire generation of women that gay men are dying - DYING! - to be your friend and indulge your every co-dependent and neurotic whim. We'll be there in a clinch with a "you go girl!" or "you look fierce!" Because we all love to say that stuff and many other quippy zingers.

...

As far as the shopping thing goes: I love saying "I'm not really into shopping" and I just stand back and wait for their heads to explode. Their precious "Will and Grace" never prepared them for that possibility!

...


Also, please refrain from referring to your gay friend as "my Will" or yourself as "Grace." That's totally queer. It was an okay show that's been off the air for over a year. Move on.

...

In closing, I am a friendly guy and like knowing people from all walks of life. But straight girls, just dial down the desperation level a couple of notches and find a more constructive way to deal with the void that the cancellation of "Sex and the City" has left in your life. (Full disclosure: I'm a total Miranda!) If we're meant to be friends, you'll let me breathe and know me for me, not as the hot urban accessory of the gay male friend. Thank you. I feel so much better.


It's a great man who can be so wise and yet so bitchy at the same time.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

The Gospel According to St. Doofus


People take their taglines on gaymatchmaker.com.au from a variety of sources - advertising catchphrases, movie dialogue, popular cliches or even Shakespeare.

However it takes a certain kind of man to quote The Bible in the tagline for his personal ad seeking casual gay sex... and a fellow named tristar is such a man:

Man can't live on bread alone.

Somehow I suspect that he might have misunderstood
the rest of the quote.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Humour versus Hotness

I'm really not very good at this whole gay thing.

I see photos like the ones below, taken from All Aussie Beef, and I know my first reaction is supposed to be to swoon over the model's youth and beauty and hotness. But my first reaction isn't that. My first reaction is to laugh.



Standard gay reaction: Ooh, check out those bedroom eyes.

My reaction: Is he smouldering, or has he just been whacked across the back of the head with a cricket bat?



Standard gay reaction: Hmmm... nice.

My reaction: Hello. I got dressed this morning by walking into my closet and jumping around for ten minutes.



Standard gay reaction: Ooh yeah!

My reaction: I see he has just as much trouble undressing as he does dressing.



Standard gay reaction: Oh baby!

My reaction: Grrr! Hulk hate tighty-whiteys! Hulk rip!


And then just when I start to think that maybe I must be straight after all, I see a photo like this:



And I'm so overwhelmed with hopeless, devastating lust that my higher brain functions shut down entirely, and the next thing I know I'm regaining consciousness, my tongue feels kinda dusty and my computer monitor has been licked clean.


So, yeah, I'm totally gay after all. Go figure.

Sorry, but dating someone young enough to be your kid is weird


Just under a year ago veteran Times journalist Matthew Parrish "married" Julian Glover, his boyfriend of eleven years, in a town hall in England.

There's nothing particularly remarkable about this - if an old feeb like Elton John can do it, so can anyone - but I was slightly taken aback by the age difference between Parrish, 57, and Glover, 35.

Twenty two years is a big difference... but I've noticed that cross-generational romances aren't uncommon in gay circles.

Personally I find it a little freaky. They started going out when Parrish was 46 and Glover was 24. If I think back to when I was 24, the idea of going out with a 46 year old would have been laughable, not to mention gross. Even at the age I am now it'd be a stretch.


What would they even have in common to talk about? I find it a little difficult talking to guys 10 years younger than me, never mind 22 years: I make an offhand allusion to the Ronald Reagan's jelly beans or witnessing Halley's Comet, and all I get in response is a politely baffled stare.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

A matter of perspective


This article in the Philadelphia Inquirer, 'Are Gays Icky?', is rather shallow and facetious but at its core it does recognise a certain truth that gays too easily forget.

That truth is that most straight men find the whole idea of homosexuality (and homosex specificially) disgusting. And this isn't necessarily due to any personal failing, or because straight men are homophobic per se.

It's simply that the idea of regarding another man with sexual desire is completely at odds with a straight man's core drives.

When a straight man considers a gay man, in an attempt to understand him, his first impulse is to put himself in the gay man's position, and "walk a mile in his shoes", as the saying goes. As a result, he asks himself, "What would my mindset need to be in order for me to want to have sex with another guy? What would I need to feel to make me want to do that?"

As a result, he comes up with the only reasons he can imagine for prefering men over women: catastrophic childhood sexual abuse, severe moral perversion, and so on. This is understandable, since these are the things that would need to happen to make HIM want to have sex with another man.

Unfortunately, that's not relevant. What's relevant is what makes A GAY MAN want to have sex with another man. And in this case, the reason is exactly the same as what makes a straight man want to have sex with a woman: natural drives.

So it's perfectly understandable that a straight man will find homosexuality disgusting, since catastrophic childhood sexual abuse and severe moral perversion are disgusting things. The only reasons they can imagine are negative ones, not because they're ignorant, but because their attempts at empathy are misguided. No straight man can, at his core, feel what it's like to be gay.


The somewhat counterintuitive upshot of this is that simple tolerance might be more important than empathy.

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

More shaven headed goodness

I haven't got much goin' on at the moment.



Luis, on the other hand, has got it all goin' on at the moment.

Or at least at the moment when this photo was taken. Since then he may have lost a limb or something. Who knows?

We're better than this


I haven't spent much time logged in to gaymatchmaker.com.au in recent weeks. I created a profile there a couple of years ago in the hope that I might meet some interesting gay guys, but lately the place seems to be overrun with married men, who are basically trying to turn their lives into their own personal porn films. It seems that every second profile is "bisexual" or "bicurious", and on the lookout for a specific piece of hot dirty action.

I'm not at all au fait with the gay scene, but it seems to me that the gay guys who respond to these men are subjecting themselves to a kind of voluntary exploitation. They are making themselves into tools for someone else's self-gratification, not being complete, complex and dare I say proud individuals.

I'm not sure why I was put on this earth, but I'm pretty certain it wasn't to provide a passing, anonymous thrill to some married lowlife.

Friday, June 29, 2007

Levels of Discretion



Further to my recent bitch about men on gaymatchmaker.com.au who can't tell the difference between "discreet" and "discrete", I read one the other night who was looking for "a discreate relationship."

It sort of puts the others in perspective.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Yet another man to sigh over



One of the byproducts of tracking my little crushes and infatuations through this blog is that I've come to realise just how quickly they change.

For the last few days I've been fantasising about a friend of mine. Last week he was just a reasonably attractive guy I know. This week he's at the centre of most of my intimate thoughts. Next week he'll probably be back to just being a guy I know.

He's okay to look at (pleasant face, decent body), but the most captivating thing about him is not on the outside. Put simply, he is one of the most selfless, compassionate and just plain nice people I know. Since I tend to be selfish, callous and intolerant of idiots, I think he's a good balance for me. Plus it's always good to have someone around upon whom one can model better behaviour...

You want me to take you to the airport? Well, you can just take your passport and ram it right up your... no, wait a minute. Mr Nice would take you to the airport. He'd put himself in your shoes, appreciate your need and selflessly avail himself to help. I want to be more like Mr Nice. Emulating Mr Nice is a good thing, and let's face it, it's the only way I'll ever learn how NOT to be a selfish bastard.

On the downside, Mr Nice does have a rather serious mental illness. It's not an issue when he takes his meds, but if he goes off them, trust me, all hell breaks loose. I suspect that this, and not homosexuality, explains why he's in this 30s and unattached. Women are pragmatic creatures; they'd look at him and think, "Nice guy (with a great ass!), but mad and stuck in a crappy job, so he's never going to be able to buy me a BMW convertible. Pass."

Whereas I just see the nice guy (with a great ass!).

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

On feeling good


Has this ever happened to you?



(c) www.sinfest.net

It happens to me all the time. Stupid mercurial personality.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Eight things you neither knew nor cared about



I've been tagged by Paul at Paul Up Late to reveal eight things about myself that nobody in the Wide Wide World of Web knows. It's pretty hard, not because my life is such an open book, but because my life is such a long, dull, boring book. I think if my life were a book, it'd be an owners manual for a complicated stereo system that's been broken since 1997.

But I have to write something, so here goes...


1. I don't own any porn. No books, no magazines, no DVDs. I don't even have any stored on my computer - the closest I get are the four fairly chaste images on this blog. I do look at it occasionally on the internet, but I think that if you use it too regularly it corrodes something inside you.

2. Shameful confession #1: I still haven't seen Brokeback Mountain.

3. Shameful confession #2: I have a secret hankering to buy a Kylie Minogue CD. But I don't, partly because it's such a gay cliche, but mostly because I can't see her without being reminded of her 'Locomotion'-era horror perm.

4. On the other hand, I own CDs by Eartha Kitt, Peggy Lee, Shirley Bassey, Abba, St Etienne, The Pet Shop Boys and TWO by Marilyn Monroe. How anyone can look at my CD collection and not immediately know that I'm gay is a mystery.

5. I despise Rob Schneider and all that he stands for.

6. Nobody I know in real life, gay or straight, knows about this blog. At least as far as I can tell.

7. Call me a cynic, but I don't believe in soulmates. I suspect that anyone who claims to have found theirs is merely redefining their soul to match the partner they've got.

8. Shameful confession #3: I have two degrees and an IQ over 150, but I get a huge turn on from really, really dumb men. Providing they're hot, of course ;)

Sadly I don't know anyone to tag with this meme, but if you follow the link back to Paul's blog, there's some interesting stuff going on there. I don't think he's going to be able to resist the demands of readers wanting to know the full story of the "orgasm on the train" episode.

Friday, June 22, 2007

You lefthanded, anticlockwise whorling, dense thumbprinted fag you



If you've been wondering about the current state of sexual orientation research, this article in the New York magazine condenses it down to a few succinct pages. I'm not exaggerating when I say that every single word is fascinating.

It's been suggesting it for years, but now science is proving that "homosexuality", as most of us understand it, is not a lifestyle choice or even a product of inadequate parenting, but a fundamental physiological condition. To argue otherwise is the equivalent of positing that eating bread crusts makes your hair curly.

The article notes that there are some odd aspects of the body, such as the direction your hair whorls and the density of ridges on your thumbprint, that are more prevalent in gay men than straight. For the record, I am right handed, my hair whorls clockwise, I'm the first son of my mother and my thumbprint density seems pretty standard - all of which are heteronormal.


However my ring-to-index finger ratio is as gay as they come. Damn you, ring and index fingers! This is all your fault!

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Time for some light relief



I've been a little negative in my recent posts, so I think it's about time I did what every gay blogger does when he needs to lift the tone: post a picture of The Rustmeister!






What is it about Rusty that makes him so ubiquitous? Obviously the answer is "Well duh... look at him". But there are plenty of hardbodied hunks on the internet. Why do we all flock after this particular slab 'o man?


I think it's his face, or more specifically, his perpetual expression of mild bewilderment. Rusty gives the impression that, if you just could just find the right words and the right tone of voice, you could trick him into doing anything.


"Sorry? You want me to do what to you? Here? Now? With my what? Aw, I dunno. No, it's not that I'm scared. I'm just don't know. Do you really think it's a good idea? Really? Well, if you're really sure about it..."

It's okay to kill if you're cute

It's a sad reflection on myself, homosexuality and society in general that I look at this man and, instead of thinking "You're gonna pay for what you did, you evil sonofabitch", I think "Whoa, what a hottie!"



Are all gay men this shallow?

Personally I blame Hudson himself. If he had the decency to wear a proper Hell's Angels biker beard (you know, one that looks like he's got a lhasa apso stapled onto his face) this wouldn't be an issue.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

The dangers of a sub-contracted social life



Over the last couple of days I've been considering my relationships with a few platonic male friends. Or at least, I've been considering my relationships with their wives.

I have a number of friends who are basically big, friendly dogs trapped in human male bodies. They're bumbling, gregarious, fun-loving and loyal. They see the best in every person they meet, and they don't have a mean bone in their bodies.

Their wives, on the other hand, are pleasant enough - even friendly on a superficial level - but they're not as easygoing as their husbands. Perhaps because they're married to anthropomorphised Golden Retrievers, they're... well, let's be charitable and say "protective".

When I talk to these wives at parties, they tend to fix me with the same shrewd stare. This stare says, "I don't understand you. You get on well with my husband but you don't have a wife, therefore something is wrong. I don't like my husband being around wrongness, and I'm not sure I approve of you."


It's not actual antagonism; merely a sort of un-preference. But since wives generally control the social lives of couples, I'm pushed down low on the priority list for dinner parties or intimate gatherings. She feels more comfortable with other couples who are following the same Life Script. Before you know it, my friend's cry of "Hey, come over and have a beer tonight!" has become "Hey, we really should get together sometime."

This has been in my mind lately because one of my good friends is getting married in a few weeks. Perhaps I'm being overdramatic, but his fiance's position seems to be, "He used to belong to you, his gaggle of friends. Now he belongs to me. I will decide his activites from now on, and if you want to see him you'd better remain in my good books."

I see this guy at least once a week, and I've met her maybe four times, total, since they started dating. She tolerates his life rather than embracing it. I fear that she's found a good man, she's snagged him, and she can't wait to dump all of his social baggage and remake their circle to her own tastes.

A year from now, I'll probably be struggling to remember what he looks like.

Saturday, June 16, 2007

Don't sleep with the drummer

I got winked by a guy on gaymatchmaker.com.au a couple of days ago. He wasn’t bad looking, but he seemed primarily interested in meaningless sex, so I’m not sure he and I are much of a match.

He’s also middle eastern, and judging by his writing skills he’s not a native English speaker. While I do admit to finding middle eastern men rather sexy, I know from experience that they tend to be… well… less than stable. They’re either convinced that you are the greatest gift to humanity since penicillin, or they desire nothing more than to kill you and wipe your name from the pages of history. Often they can hold both of these opinions about the same person on the same day, depending on circumstances, mood and/or changes in barometric pressure.

So after a little consideration, I sent him the automated, “Thanks, but you’re not what I’m looking for” response.

Then I turned my attention to another guy. At the risk of sounding like a complete fag, he was dreamy: a rugged, uncomplicated face, a great body (well built but not too toned), a professional background and a comprehensible writing style. In short he was attractive, but no so much that he’d be out of my league. I gave him a wink of my own.

The next day, I checked GMM and found a message waiting for me. Needless to say, I felt a little thrill! Mr Dreamy was writing back!

But no. Mr Dreamy was not writing back. Mr Middle East was writing back, to say thanks for the wink, you seem interesting, I’d like to get to know you better.

You want to get to know me better? How about actually reading the message that was attached in large, bolded letters next to the wink… which wasn’t even a wink but a reply to your wink! Damn it!

Yet again Cupid’s arrow misses my heart and pokes me in the eye instead.

All this might be immaterial – just part of the ebb and flow of internet personals – but against my better judgement I feel myself being tempted to give Mr Middle East a second chance. He really is sort of cute, in a lumpy, swarthy kinda way…

But damn it, that’s just the loneliness talking! I can tell it as soon as the thought drifts across my mind. I’ve spent the last 24 hours daydreaming about Mr Dreamy, so of course I’m in a romantic mood (not to mention as horny as hell). It’s a classic case of lusting after the lead singer of the band but ending up sleeping with the drummer.

Note to self: do NOT sleep with the drummer. I don’t care how desperate you are.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Only one of them is the better part of valour



Why doesn't anybody on gaymatchmaker.com.au know how to spell?

Look and learn, guys...

discrete - constituting a separate entity : individually distinct, or, consisting of distinct or unconnected elements.

discreet - prudent; especially : capable of preserving prudent silence: unobtrusive: unnoticeable.

If you are looking to keep your activities on the downlow, you are not looking for a discrete relationship. You are looking for a discreet relationship. Get it right!

I'm sure people can have discrete relationships, but there wouldn't necessarily be any element of discretion about them. In fact, juggling several discrete relationships would probably be about as discreet as a roomful of Lucille Ball impersonators.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

In any relationship, there is the one who quotes, and the one who consents to be quoted

After my last post about the nature of love, or more specifically the nature of being "in love", I remembered a quote that goes something like this:

In any relationship, there is the one who loves, and the one who consents to be loved.

As with all misanthropic pessimism, it's not quite true, but it contains just enough truth to be poisonously effective. I think the quote sticks with me because it casts those who love as suckers, so I can excuse my own lack of love as "enlightenment".

Ah, the things we tell ourselves in the pursuit of self-justification.

I'd recalled it as being a quote from Rosseau, but of course that name was just one that I more or less completely pulled out of my ass. So I tried googling it. The internet, in its infinite wisdom, suggested that the quote was from Thackeray, Jerome K. Jerome or Somerset Maugham. None of the sources were particularly scholarly, so without any further evidence, I'm going to attribute it to Maugham. It is, after all, exactly the sort of thing that bitter old queen would have said.

Monday, May 28, 2007

What is love?

What is love? Have you ever been in love? I mean genuinely in love, as opposed to lusting after some guy at the gym or sighing over a straight friend.

To love someone, in the sense of being "in love", I suppose there's a mixture of admiration, attraction, agreeableness and value:

  • If you love someone, you respect him - you look at his character, or his motivations, and you see traits that you wish you had more strongly in yourself.
  • If you love someone, you like him - you think he's fun to be around, you enjoy talking to him, and he takes you in directions that you enjoy.
  • If you love someone, you're attracted to him - you find that even if he's ugly or fat or under-endowed, there's still something about him that draws you in and makes you crave intimacy with him, physically as well as emotionally.
  • If you love someone, you're valued by him - your feelings are in some way reciprocated, even if the reasons behind his feelings differ from yours.
If you don't experience all four of these things, can you really be said to be "in love"? If any one of them is missing, you merely have a good friend, an infatuation, or a fuck buddy.

I've never been in love, and I can't imagine ever saying "I love you" to anyone. While I can imagine that such a person might exist, I haven't met him yet and I doubt I ever will. Experience suggests that no one will ever manage to fill all four criteria, even though the criteria aren't that specific.

It doesn't seem fair. All around me I see people in love, even if something goes wrong and they fall out of love after a time. Why is it that I've never met a man whom I can admire, like, be attracted to and be valued by? It doesn't seem all that remote a possibility, but after 20 years of adulthood I still haven't met anyone who even temporarily fits the bill. Or, to utilise a cliche, it's not that I haven't met Mr Right... I haven't even met Mr Right Now!

One of these days I'm going to quiz my friends on what being "in love" means to them. I'll ask them about their partners past and present, and try to dig through the inevitable gush and platitudes to see what it really looks (or looked) like. Either "being in love" is a very rare thing and they're all deluding themselves, or there's something desperately wrong with me.

Friday, May 25, 2007

So much for my own grand designs



Maybe it's just because I'm not getting any, but watching Grand Designs last night I noticed, not for the first time, that Kevin McCloud is kinda hot. A little on the elderly side, maybe, but still good looking, passionate about his field of interest, and rather obviously gay.

So of course when I read a little about him on the internet, in order to find out what sort of boytoy he's shacked up with, I discovered that he's straight. And married. And father to five children.

A gay man with a wife might be simply maintaining a convincing beard. But a man with a wife and five kids? Nobody is that closeted.

Did I mention that I have the worst gaydar in human history?

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

I told you shaven headed guys were irresistible






The scary thing is that he sort of looks a little like my crush guy. Well, from the neck up, anyway.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

They're called "crushes" because they hurt. Especially if you drop one on your foot.


I unexpectedly bumped into one of my crush guys on Saturday, at a party thrown by a mutual friend.

He really is too good to be true. He's friendly, gentle and engaging, but also tall, lean, strong and good looking. In addition he shaves his head, leaving just a bit of stubble, which I always find irresistible - you know that a guy who chooses to shave his head isn't going to be the sort of man who fusses about silly affectations like tinted highlights or fauxhawks or bad bleached tips.

We got chatting, and this was the first time I've actually had an opportunity to talk to him for more than just a few exchanges. We talked about football and jazz, the environment and coffee culture, and he seemed to be enjoying himself. He certainly wasn't trying to disengage and find another conversation. When we moved off in search of food, we kept talking. I was sensitive to any sign that he might want to end our conversation and move on, but I didn't detect any.

My gaydar is possibly the worst in existence, but I did pick up a few interesting details:

  • He's in his late 20s and doesn't have a girlfriend, despite his agreeable personality and extreme hunkiness.
  • He lives alone, in an apartment in one of the city's gayest suburbs.
  • He works in a traditionally female job.
  • He dresses better than most men his age.

These are all good signs of gayitude, and he's the sort of guy who would be closeted if he was indeed gay, but all that doesn't prove anything. Human beings have an vast capacity for projection, so I'm well aware that I might only see what I want to see.

When he left the party I invited him to a gathering I was having the following night. He didn't show, and although that can be readily explained, it certainly doesn't suggest that he's as smitten with me as I am with him. So for the moment I can't do anything more than sigh, pine, and remember the way a few of his chest hairs peeped over the top of his T-shirt, just below the hollow of his throat, and imagine the thrill of exploring downwards from there.

I know, I know, all of this is a total non-event, but since it's been two weeks since I posted anything, I thought I should make an effort to say something, even if it is just recounting an episode of unrequited lust.

Friday, May 4, 2007

We gays are all about tolerance and diversity


I pulled this out of an otherwise reasonable profile on GMM:

For the remaining person still reading, heres a quick way to see if we would be compatible: If you vote Labor, Democrat, or Green your probably in. If you vote Liberal, CDP, FF or One Nation -I'm probably not interested.

It's nice to see a man with an open mind. He'd probably get along well with another newbie whose tagline reads:

America visiting Perth (I hate George Bush)

Hopefully the two of them can get together, and end up snuggling on the couch before a roaring fire, gazing into each other's eyes and talking wistfully of Bob Brown and Hillary Clinton.

Thursday, May 3, 2007

More internet filth!




Homosexuality is not the only love that dares not speak its name.

Tuesday, May 1, 2007

I'm not as together as I think I am

I've been lucky to have made a lot of close male friends over the years to whom I am not even remotely attracted. There are some others for whom I've had short, transitory attraction, which has calmed down over time and become something more realistic, comfortable and unerotic. I find that if you're patient the yearning dies down and you can get along on a satisfying platonic level. After all, there's no point in sighing over someone who is straight. There's no future in it. It's better to just be friends and save your interest for other gay men.

However there are some guys for whom the attraction just won't stop, no matter how hard you try.

I have a friend. He's single and in his late twenties. He has a good heart and a kind nature, and he smiles so much that he's developed early crows' feet around his eyes. He's cute rather than handsome, but that just means that his inner beauty has more opportunity to make itself visible. He's generous and patient, serious when he needs to be and fun-loving when he doesn't.

He's also as dumb as a bag of hammers, forever being taken advantage of by people who are smarter than him... which is most people. Perhaps because there's so little going on inside his skull, he's compensated by devoting himself to physical acuity. He's superbly fit, with the sort of amazing body that comes from endless training. Shave his chest and he could be one of the boys from the underwear packets.

So, he's a dumb, muscular, sweet-natured hunk... and every time I think I've managed to control my feelings for him I bump into him at a party and I instantly feel like I've been belted over the head with The 4x2 of Lust. I find excuses to touch him in acceptable ways, like a clap on the shoulder or a friendly nudge, and it takes all my will to let go and not let my hands slide down. It also takes me a day or two to get over him every time I see him, which fortunately isn't too often.

If it were just physical, it wouldn't be so bad, but he's such a nice person that I could easily fall in love with him. I could imagine being with him, living together, sharing everything, caring for him and being cared for by him... and then of course retiring to the bedroom for long, long nights of sweaty, wild, wake-up-the-neighbours sex.

But it's not going to happen, because he's as straight as they come. I know him well enough to know that. I'd love it to be otherwise, and I could pretend that it was, but that's the way it is. Yearning for people to be something other than what they are will not make them so, and that's something that everyone, gay or straight, male or female, needs to learn eventually

It's just really, really hard.



(No, that's not him. That's just someone who causes a similar amount of wistful sighing.)

Monday, April 30, 2007

What makes a man gay?

What makes a man gay? Part of the reason why I started taking a few little peeks outside my closet was to learn more in an attempt to answer this question.

As an introduction, I like the metaphor that homosexuality is like coughing - one cough sounds a lot like any other, but the causes can be many and varied. You might cough because you're in a dusty room, or because you have a cold, or because you have tuberculosis, or perhaps just because you want to catch someone's attention. It's not a disease in itself, but a symptom of something else.

Similarly, all homosexual activity may look the same on the surface, but the root causes differ wildly. Some men have sex with other men because their sexual identity was screwed up by some trauma in their childhood. Some men have sex with other men because they're locked away with no female company and their sex drive overwhelms their natural inclinations. Some men have sex with other men to assert their power and dominance over them. And some men have sex with other men because they're perverts who will do anything (and I mean DO anything) to get a new kick. None of these men are really homosexuals in the pure sense... although ironically they're getting more action than me (Bastards!).

And then there are men like me, who are sexually attracted to other men for reasons that aren't really understood and don't fit into any of the catagories above. The only theory that seems to mesh with my own experience is the theory that a man is made gay in uetero, possibly by his mother's body rejecting the alien rush of testosterone being injected into the embryo. As a result, a part of the male feotus' brain that controls sexual attraction remains in a default female state, while all around it other parts of the brain and body develop normally as male.

Of course, this basic flaw in the architecture of the brain has a cascading effect throughout the whole structure, both of the brain itself and the psychology that grows from it. The brain struggles to accomodate the conflicting drives, trying to reconcile within itself a male identity and a contradictory male sexual attraction.

Thus gay men aren't screwed up because a homophobic society detests them (although I'm sure that hasn't helped). Gay men are screwed up because they're screwed up. At the very core of their idenity there is a basic contradiction, and although the brain finds ingenious ways to live with it, it's always there, and we are incapable of finding a sense of "rightness" in ourselves because of it. I'm yet to meet a gay man with a calm, sane, sensible relationship with himself, even though I meet men like that all the time in the straight world. Society can endorse male homosexuality all it wants, but gay men will always have to live with, and be tortured by, this deep, intrinsic sense of wrongness.

You may think, "That sounds tragic!", to which I would reply "Well duh." Life is tragedy, and we all have to get along with it the best we can. Conversely, you may think, "You're just a self-loathing closet case who needs to get some PRIDE!", to which I would reply "Bite me."

This in uetero theory of homosexuality has a lot of repercussions in behaviour, morality and psychology, but unless I want to make this post longer than a John Grisham novel (which I don't), I'll deal with them at a later date.

But I don't want to end on a downer, so here's a picture of a bunny.





Thursday, April 26, 2007

The internet is no place for pictures of your ass!


In my travels around the internet I've come across an article with the rather self-explanatory title, 'An Open Letter To Men Who Post Pictures Of Their Penis On The Internet From A Man Who Doesn't'.

And good for him, I say! I endorse any man who doesn't post pictures of his penis on the internet. Such men are to be encouraged!

On a similar theme, my own personal pet peeve is men who post pictures of their naked asses on gaymatchmaker.com.au.

I can understand it if they're just looking for meaningless sex, and if their asses are particularly spectacular examples of assdom. In those cases, a picture of their ass sends a pretty straightforward message: "Ass for hire - enquire within".

(Ewww. Sorry.)

But often these arse photos are attached to profiles that claim the guy is seeking "friendship" or a "committed relationship". Frankly, I don't get it. I don't see the connection between "I am looking for my soulmate" and "Here is a picture of my ass". Just imagine it...

Me: Hello, I like cycling, chocolate croissants and French cinema. What about you?

Assman: Well, I'm into swimming, Thai food and POSTING PICTURES OF MY NAKED ASS ON THE INTERNET.

Me: I see.

As if that wasn't bad enough, many of these asses are... well... not worth the bandwidth, to be honest. If the sight of someone's pale, flabby butt cheeks is supposed to make me horny, then I must not be very good at this whole 'gay' thing. What am I supposed to think? "Hey, you have an ass. I have an ass too! We must be meant for each other!"?

So, in conclusion, unless you are a professional underwear model with an ass of sublime perfection, keep it in your pants. Please.


Profundity from (gasp) Craigslist

hot guy with the faux hawk and straight 'tude at Crunch (YEAH YOU) - m4m

You: hot guy with the faux hawk, camos, and gonch undies with perfect tan line, 4% bodyfat, american apparel tri-blend track shirt, L7silvr phone, ipod nano on stairclimber reading DNA Magazine and drinking a Macchiato with nonfat foam.

Me: buzzed cut, ripped tatted guy with 501's with a flash of ice blue aussie bum undies and wife beater chillin on my nano with some Eminem and texting my bros on my sidekick and drinking Twinlab Extreme Ripped Force Drink.

We checked each other out for a millisecond there but I was too shy to appoach you. I definately felt there was some chemistry heating up and would like to take it to the next level. Hit me up if you wanna grab some coffee or a drink. Or dinner.

Or maybe we could go on an Atlantis Gay Cruise together and they can take photos of us for the brochure with you on my shoulders in matching awning striped speedos looking tan and in love.

Or maybe we could snap up a couple of French Bulldogs and name them Louis and Vuitton and have our portrait done with us in matching khakis and barefoot to send as a Christmas Card.

Or maybe we could do a shit load of Tina and K and E and GHB and feel really hot and go to White Party in outfits made by BCBG and dance shirtless in the glistening sweat of the other manboys around us.

Or maybe something about you can help me fill this desperate lonliness and emptiness that has been devouring me as I frantically chase an image and life of someone I will never be. Maybe I won't have to use words like "hit me up" and "grab coffee" and "bro" to mask the self loathing homophobia I possess, praying they will make me come across as butch and straight and hell, anything but the sad, starving, lonely, judgemental, bitter, cynical, poser, wannabe that I really am.

Seriously Dude. Hit me up, if you are interested.


Monday, April 23, 2007

Disconnect between fictional representations of homosexuality and actual gay men in the media.



Fictional representation: Consider anyone who dated one of the main characters on 'Queer as Folk'. Almost all of them were about as fairy-like as a bulldozer. Most of them behaved like ordinary men... who just happened to be gay.

Actual gay men: Have you seen the token gay couple on a new reality TV show called "Last Chance Learners"? They're both bitchy, shrieky, fussy fags with perma-tans and queeny sunglasses. If you dropped them into the middle of a sitcom they'd be widely decried as caricatures... but they're real people! Sure, reality TV is scripted and edited to hell and back, but I seriously doubt there was a producer standing next to them saying "Okay, let's do that scene again, but this time, instead of behaving like someone with a Y chromosome, I want you to shriek and flap your hands like a fat girl who just won a dishwasher on 'The Price Is Right'."

I don't know why this is. Are all TV writers sleeping with the same Pride PR boi?

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Users and Abusers

I've been reading about the case of Wheeler and Urquhart in the newspaper, and when I reflect on it, I feel my soul recoil inside me.

They exist in a place that disgusts me, and I don't make that judgement based on the sex or the drugs or kidnapping or the possible conspiracy to murder. I make it on the basis that two men in their forties approached a 14 year old in the street with a mindset of "Here is a boy; what can he offer us?"

14 year olds do not exist to offer adults anything. Normal people look at a boy that age and think, "Here is a person who needs nurturing, protection and encouragment to join us in the adult world". Normal people do not think "Here's a chance for some X-rated fun". There's a massive difference between a 16 year old looking at a 14 year old and seeing a prospective partner and lover, and a 46 year old looking at a 14 year old and seeing an object that might bring a bit of spice to his jaded sexual palate. The sheer selfishness of it all revolts me.

And now that they've been caught, Wheeler and Urquhart are discovering the end results of their mindset. Their whining, self-justification and terrified bargaining only makes the scenario more abhorrent. Their punishment will be worse than anything they can imagine --- we all know how child rapists are treated in prison.

Friday, April 6, 2007

When the stream of consciousness is more of a trickle

There's not much to admire about Soniq, a guy I noticed on GMM, but he is certainly direct. Under "About Myself" he writes:

i am a vergin who want sto be fucked hard by huge cock
fucked hard fucked hard fucked hard hard hard hard hard

It's almost poetry.

Wednesday, April 4, 2007

With 75% of your daily requirement of folate in every serve!

The tagline from GMM member hellohello6969:

I'm blessed with natural horniness!

And added vitamins!

I suppose it's a refreshing change from all that artificial horniness I've been seeing around the place. You know, from people who claim to be genuinely horny, but really they're just logging on to gaymatchmaker.com.au for the sparkling wit and conversation.

At least he knows how to spell 'horniness'. That's 10 Kudos Points right there.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

You're either Channing Tatum or Jabba the Hutt

One of the things I've discovered as I dip my toe into the big pink ocean of gayitude is that it's ruled by the principle of Hot or Not.

I like to think that there is a scale of acceptability when looking for prospective partners. At one end, the attractive, hot bodied sex god who is also charming, funny, good natured and kind hearted... and rich. At the other end, the ugly, smelly, disease-ridden mutant with an abrasive personality, countless neuroses and dangerously psychopathic tendencies... who has failed at everything he's ever done. Between these extremes lie everyone else. Finding the right partner involves recognising your place in the spectrum and looking around at others in a similar position.

But apparently this spectrum idea isn't popular. My experience suggests that while I'm bumbling along in analogue, every other gay man thinks in binary. Either you are The One or you are The Zero.

There appears to be a certain level of looks, personality and charisma that makes a man a One. If you are a One, then the world is your sexual and romantic oyster. If your relationship (or even your one night stand) falls apart for some reason, there are a hundred other men elbowing each other in the doorway trying to get your attention.

But if, for some reason, you fail to make the grade, then you are a Zero. Nobody wants you. Even other Zeros don't want you - they're all clamouring after the Ones. You're doomed to a lifetime of desperate loneliness and crushed hopes.

The weird thing is that there's no inbetween here. No one is "okay". You're either "great" or "terrible", and I'm pretty sure this isn't the case in the straight world.

At this point I don't know if I'm a One or a Zero. I do know that if I see an interesting-looking guy on GMM, or meet one at a party, I generally find myself being ignored. This would be understandable if these guys were Calvin Klein models, but they're just ordinary men with various pluses and minuses. That doesn't bode well.

I guess I just have to hope that I'm not the only one looking for someone who's "okay".

Monday, March 19, 2007

When good men make bad choices


Dear Mr Second From The Left,

Congratulations! You seem to have done very well for yourself, both in the genetic lottery and in the discipline to stick to a training regime. Your body is stunning; a work of homoerotic art. You could bounce a cannon ball off that stomach, and those arms look like they could bench press a Toyota. Even in a crowd of very hot men, the least of whom (Mr Plaid Shorts, I'm looking at you) would set gay hearts aflutter, you stand out as the hottest. You deserve all the attention that you no doubt get.

And yet I must point out that you are letting yourself down in your choice of clothing. There's nothing actually wrong with your dark blue board shorts, but they're not doing you any favours. By way of contrast, imagine what would happen if you stepped out in a pair of these:


Let's just say that you wouldn't have to travel to the beach any more. You could just go to a random patch of sand and swim in all the drool from any women and gay men in the general vicinity.

And if you think swimming in drool is gross... well, it is, but it's hardly the grossest thing gays have dreamt up to do with their bodily fluids.

Yours (I wish)

GTR

Friday, March 16, 2007

Another valued member of our team

Professionalism is creeping into many areas of life, even the world of sleazy anonymous gay sex. Witness this tagline from a bloke in Sydney calling himself man-lover on gaymatchmaker.com.au.

i have a profesional ass and am always horny

Note to self: create a Sex CV, then pull an excerpt from it to use as my tagline. Perhaps "I bring a sense of dedication and enthusiasm to every position" or "I am an effective team player".

What is a professional ass, anyway? Is it pin-striped? Is it more efficient than an amateur ass, or does it just get paid more? Is it required to hold to a higher Standard of Practice, or does it just have to be ISO-9000 certified? Does it have an enforcable Code of Ethics? Is it affected by anti-discrimination and equal opportunity legislation?

Personally, I question the professionalism of any ass that doesn't even know how to spell "professional".

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Re: Statement of Intent

Why am I starting this blog?

I dunno. I'm in my mid-30s, male, gay and in the closet - way, way back in the closet, so far back that it's snowing and there's a lamp post and I'm rappin' with Mr Tumnus. He says hey. It's quite nice here (Tumnus has a Playstation - woot!) and I'm in no hurry to step out. However, as I get older I feel the need to know more about what being gay means and what it's like for other people.

Before I made my first tentative steps outside my closet, I only knew a couple of gay men on the periphery of my social circle... and they were creeps. The only other gay men I knew were the obligatory gay characters on every groovy sitcom or drama show on TV, and I was beginning to suspect that they weren't really very accurate. Were all gay men really that straight-acting, good-looking and unsleazy?

So I set out to do some research. It turns out that the masculine, admirable sitcom gay from 2007 is about as realistic as the shrieking, feather boa'd sitcom gay from 1977. Thus the average person today is no better informed about what it really means to be gay than he was 30 years ago. All he's getting is the opposite extreme of PR.

But more of that in future entries.

On a lighter note, this blog is also a way for me to chronicle my adventures in that well-spring of unintentional humour, gaymatchmaker.com.au. There's nothing like horniness, desperation, poor communication skills and deep, deep vacuity for a really good laugh.