Hope

Look. I ain't Barack Obama. I got no audacity of hope or a hope chest or the Hope Diamond (though I did see the Hope Diamond at the Smithsonian...shhhhhinnnnyyyyy!). But tonight, I do have a slim sliver slight shaving shimmer of hope (yay alliterations!). David's ex...the Roommate of Darkness...declared openly that he is moving out on July 31st and that is his final answer (he IS the weakest link. goodbye).

As someone thoroughly trained in the scientific method (observation. empirical, and measurable), I am a fool to actually allow any itsy bitsy shadow of optimistic outlook to stain my cold, calculating hard science heart.

Pssssht.

I am a big old Renaissance softy that reads esoteric literature, speaks and reads several languages, believes in ghosts, fairies, and goblins, and jumps at any opportunity to believe that human beings are inherently good and ultimately redeemable. I spend a lot of time being disappointed. But golly gee I wear a smile while I pick up the pieces of my shattered expectations.

And poor David. He has been waiting almost two years to move on to the next part of his life. And, I have been waiting right along with him for most of that time. I am scared as hell to really embark on a fully open relationship, which I told my love had to wait until Lady GaDrama was no longer sleeping on the couch, and so the spectre of that life challenge is lickin' its lips and rearin' its Voldemort lookin' head at me. But, you know, I have seen enough perky asses from my window this evening to be willing to walk hand in hand with David down the path that ends with my penis firmly ensconsed in several of the aforementioned observed's booginas. How's that for a scientific method for ya.

Our beloved president, St. Barack Hussein "I Got a Fatty Dick" Obama commanded us all to hope, and let me not be the shmuck that fails to serve and obey the commandments of our Lord and Chief Executive. But, past precedent (sorry Mr. President) has taught me that crazy people that thrive on misery should not be trusted until one sees their bony behind walk out the door for the last time. So, I shall say I am cautiously hopefulmistic.

And you can bet a bitch is funna be chanting some nam-myoho-renge-kyo and prayin' to Jesus, Allah, Shakyamuni, Yaweh, and Scooby Fucking Doo to help this actually come to pass.

Amen.

Hot Daddy Part II: Here Comes Daddy

So, since there was quite a bit of interest in the saga of Hot Daddy, I thought I would provide all you voyeurs an update.

Today, I have basically been vibrating with extra energy. I couldn't sit still. I looked like an ADHD kid that had been given a shot of meth directly to the brain. I was in the laundromat with David this morning, and if you had hooked an electrode to my skin and touched it to the circuit breaker, I could have powered the entire damn place by myself.

David was folding laundry, and I was basically using all my will power to make him fold faster...as I was afraid that I was about to physically jump out of my skin and run screaming around the laundromat shreaking "WALOOLOO LOOO WALOOO LOO LOO" at the top of my lungs.

I ain't trying to get sent to the nut ward at Mt. Sinai.

Anywho, we got back in, ate lunch, and I decided that I would lay down. David decided to be off to the gym. I tried to fall asleep but at 3pm, at the time when the elementary school across the street gets done for the day, the damn ice cream man shows up with his ridiculous music.

If I had a shotgun, he would be a dead ice cream man right now. Hey kiddies...how about some Grey Matter Ice Cream. Delicious!

Anywho, so after about an hour, I decided to get up and go to the gym. I wasn't sure if David would still be there or not. I changed into my gym clothes, and no sign of that man of mine. I walk out of the locker room and there he is...HOT DADDY.

I got on the suicidal cardio machine, and Hot Daddy starts using a machine behind me. Of course the wall in front of me is ALL mirrors...and Hot Daddy is obviously not wearing any underwear and obviously half "cocked." Hot Daddy could also be called Very Very Big Daddy.

Anywho, I head downstairs to lift weights, and as I hit the first landing, I look back up and there is Hot Daddy lookin' down at me. I smile, and realize I had left my music making instruments in my locker, so I duck back inside and who should I run into the shower area but my baby boo. I give him a kiss, and wink, and grab my gear, and head back out.

On the floor, I see Hot Daddy seeing me. And after a few minutes, he turns and heads into the locker room. My Mama didn't raise no fool...so I followed on after. David is dressed and leaving, smiles, and says "Hot Daddy is back at the lockers. Have fun," and then giggles.

I will spare you the pornographic details, but, suffice it to say that I saw Hot Daddy in action, and sweet Jesus I was not disappointed. There were a few people in the steam today, and Hot Daddy clearly was interested in me. Enough said on that subject.

After showering, I get dressed and here comes His Royal Hottiness. He smiles and says, "You got left behind today."

I replied, "Oh, you saw my partner?"

He said, "Yes. Your boyfriend is a shy one."

I would not describe David as shy.

"Naw....he is just direct in a different way that I am."

"Awww...well by how I judge those things you are very direct. You always make eye contact."

"Well, that's because David and I both think you are adorable."

"Adorable?" He chuckled his pecs flexing, "I think you can only describe people under 30 as adorable."

"Well choose the adjective you like...we both think you are hot."

The man actually blushed. "Well thank you for the compliment."

I then introduced myself, and he introduced himself to me. We chatted for a few more minutes, and I explained the nature of my relationship to him...which made him smile even more broadly.

And then, just before leaving he let on that he had been at the gym in the morning a couple of days before and hadn't seen us there (Ummmmmm he noticed we were missing...excellent)...

and then he asked...

"Will you boys be here in the morning?"

"Oh yes."

"I will see you then."

I smiled, nodded, and walked out.

I basically sprinted home to tell David the story. The rest of the conversation between David and I is privileged information...but...let it be known...that I was not the only happy one with today's events.

The rest of the details, though, are for participants only. Use your imagination, and then turn it up a notch...it's even better than that ;-)

Dorothy, We Ain't In Minneapolis Anymore!

So...there is a man at my gym I call “Hot Daddy.” He is about 6', well built, anti-gravity bubble booty, tanned, with a schlong that he could probably have classified as a weapon. And he's real pretty in the face.

Well, David and I had bumped into Hot Daddy in the past. On more than one occasion I caught him staring at David...like...bore a hole through your head sort of staring. If one of those red dots had shown up square on David's ass...like from the laser sight of an assault rifle...I would not have been surprised.

Now...I have been known...in my day...to be a little jealous. That jealousy goes up a notch when it involves someone I think is hot but doesn't give me the time of day. That's called Bruised Ego Jealousy Syndrome (BEJeesus Syndrome for short).

The last time we saw Hot Daddy, he had just come out of the steam room where it was obvious that his Johnson had been doing some steaming of its own. He walked past me, put his hand on David's waist, and moved him aside....but in a very sensual/possessive way (I AM NOT PROJECTING! Maybe a little)....basically....I wanted to gnaw off his arm that go around.

I have grown since that incident.

Today we saw Hot Daddy. And he, again, did the Cyclops eye laser deal wherever David managed to be. It was matched in hilarity only by my one time steam room jack off adventure buddy who got so excited that he couldn't finish the job and was basically shaking from excitement. Needless to say, David and I were both totally amused. Later on, after David and I had finished exercising, we hit the locker room for shower time, and Mr. Excitement was getting dressed behind us, and when I stripped, he got a full on woody. I was totally flattered ;-)

When we excited the shower...Hot Daddy was there talking to an older gentleman. David and I got dressed, and I was giggling and told David that as long as he let me watch video from a hook up between him and Hot Daddy, I would be cool. Then, Hot Daddy walks by and speaks!

“What's up guys?” He says...as he passes.

“Hey there.” I said.

And then I about jumped straight on top of the nearest locker as Hot Daddy runs his finger up my ass crack through my shorts as he walks by.

I can count the number of times in my life that I have been literally speechless. I felt my ears turn bright red, my eyes were so wide that any passing lemur would have mistaken me for one of its own kind, and I told David what happened. David, being Mister Cool, giggled. I didn't know whether to be angry or flattered...I was fighting a hard on and wanting to punch him in the face. David was tickled. MEN!

Now don't get me wrong. In a night club, I have been groped many a time...in the Midwest...we know that the gym is for cruising but touching is for the steamroom ;-). Good Midwestern boys don't just run their finger up other boys butts in the locker room...especially not in front of their boyfriends. We are good boys and do it on the sly. I am definitely not in Minneapolis anymore.

In the end I was flattered. I looked at my hottie man, and was thankful again for our relationship and the way we communicate. I also offered up a silent prayer that one day I would get to be the meat in a sex sandwhich between Hot Daddy and my hotter man. Thank you Jesus!

It Ain't Sunny in L.A.

Today has been somewhat of a challenge. I got up this morning in a dead panic when I received a text message from David. I thought I had overslept and missed my flight to Los Angeles. On top of that, I had gone to the movies the night before, and I could not find my cash card, so I wasn't sure if I could get out of Oakland to L.A.

I did find my cash card. Which was some relief. Went to the atm. Got cash out for the cab to the airport, and the damn card broke in half.

I had just enough money to get to the airport. But no money for food. David to the rescue with his credit card. Thank god. I ended up sitting next to a beautiful little girl and her Grandma, and I coached the peanut through her first flight. In exchange she taught me a game called "Picachu," which to someone over the age of 12 would be called Rocks, Paper, Scissors.

I arrived in Cali and got a solo van to Occidental College. That was awesome. The conference has been awesome so far. Though I am in a room surrounded by a bunch of media/media techies....which is always interesting. And, frankly, I am scared that at this point I actually understand most of the conversations.

In the interest of not spilling too many personal details of my relationship (you, my faithful readers know that I would normally tell all....but David is a bit more squeamish...such a lady). Today is one of those days that is totally challenging me. And to show mad love to my partner...he has been great. And I am saying publicly that though you are pushing every one of my insecurity buttons today....I am behind you (well not behind you,....ooooooooo holding back on the inappropriate comment...barely holding on......whew)...but I hope you have a blast...in my own selfish interest I hope it is a relatively quick blast.....and I love you.

GEEEEEEEEZZZUSS! Self censorship today is REALLY taxing my strength. Baby...we are going to have to talk about my blog....this is my outlet....and I am going to have to bust through and share sometimes...I am...yes I am...

but not today.

Damn.

Pray for me ya'll.