Thursday, January 1, 2009

Yeah ! 2009 !


Okay, so I had all day to think about it. Here are my 2009 New Year’s resolutions:

1. Find a different job. Find a job that I enjoy. Find a job that pays real money. Not that I don't sometimes enjoy my work at Barnes & Noble. But let's face it; I've never worked so hard for so little money in all my life. I was making more in 1990 and that was almost 20 years ago. LOL...damn, I'm stupid.

2. Start being more sociable and not take work so seriously. I've become a bit of a hermit since I moved back to North Carolina. I pretty much just go to work, come home, get back up and do it all again. The nearest gay bar is 30 miles away, so driving 30 miles each way to watch a bunch of old-washed queens cruise each other for a couple of hours really isn't my idea of a fun evening. I've got to start accepting the invitations I get from co-workers to go out do shit even if I do have to get up at 5 am the next morning for work. Hell, remember when I was in college and lived on pep pills and black coffee? Maybe I need to do that again so I can have some fun and not always end up being Mr. Sensible.

3. Remember to never give in to the current gay fad of shaving all your pubes off (i.e. giving yourself a baldy). I did this several days ago and hate it. I'm a hairy fucker and now I look like I have a scalded weasel dangling between my legs, plus let's not forget the milions of razor bumps and wait...it itches like a motherfucker as it starts growing back in. Imagine someone stuffing your underwear with old rusty brillo pads and making you walk around all day like that. I swear I'll never complain about my pubes again should they ever grow back (please, Jesus, please).

4. Work on being more empathic to other people's problems. Work on being more patient with people. Work on drawing people out, getting them to open up and talk.

5. Practice smiling without involving the eyes. The other day Kaleo gave me a picture that someone had taken of us Halloween night at work. Kaleo looks exotic and wonderful as usual, but there I am with a really huge smile on my face and yes, OMG... I can't believe I'm going to admit it...fuckin' crow's feet! I wanted to rip the picture in a million pieces but Kaleo said it wasn't crow's feet, my eyes were merely crinkling. Crinkling? Isn't that what Santa Claus's eye does in T'was The Night before Christmas? I'm thirty-something, not nearly Santa Claus age! So, from now on my smile will stay on the bottom half of my face and leave my goddamn eyes alone.

6. I will be kind the scores and scores of bottoms that just love me. I have this problem; I seem to only attract other bottoms. When I go out they flirt with me and buy me drinks. When I go to a cruising spot, they constantly ask to suck my dick. When I go online, they constantly email me and want to hook up even though my profile states that I'm a bottom (That's okay, they tell me. I'll fuck you and then you can fuck me). By now, you must be sticking your fingers down your throat and making gagging sounds by now. You wonder just who the fuck do I think I am. I don’t blame you. Trust me, I say all this without any sense of pride or vanity. I don’t want all this attention they heap on me. For some reason, I strike most people as a top that’s packing a “big one” and lookin’ for some butt to tear up. It might be that it’s my military look or the fact that I’m masculine or the fact that I have a pretty hairy chest (if you like that sort of thing) or it might be my big feet and big nose or it might be the mean look on my face but the bottoms love me and tops won’t even look my way. I love other bottoms, as friends…if fact I prefer them as friends to top guys because there’s no sexual tension to ruin it and we can relate to each other better. I get very angry and frustrated with these boys sometimes. I intend to be nicer to them in 2009. Hell, maybe I'll fuck one of them (just kidding).

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