Beet Root Juice! Beet Root Juice! Beet Root Juice!
Last night I went and stayed with a guy that I met Saturday night at this place that pretends to be a club. He is MOST DEFINITELY a guy. Not that I went over there and went to whoring or anything, but I do know for sure that he does, in fact, have a penis. I guess that he could have just had a dildo in his pants. If it was a dildo and he turns out to be a chick, fuck it! I'll just go with it.
I have decided that I am losing my faggot super powers from lack of exposure. That is the only logical explanation for why I could not tell that Miranda was not a Martin. Still a bit thrown off by that whole thing.
So the guy I saw last night, his name will be beer bottle boy or Triple B, is extremely sweet. Not swooning over him by any means, but he has alot of potential. I found out last night that he is actually very intelligent for a hung, 21 year old, southern queer. Pleasant surprise. Less of a pleasant surprise, more of a complete shock. I told him how I feel about Mississippi gay men. All plastic drug addicted sex queens. He sort of laughed and said something like, "Obviously not all are. I mean, I met you." It was kind of a Dawson's Creekie type moment. Kept waiting on some chick to climb through his window or something. Dawson's Creek...who the hell still makes references to that show? I do, BITCH!
Anyway, he is a nice guy. Compliments me too much though. I hate being complimented. I do not know why. Well, yes I think I do know why, but that is neither here nor there. I just hate compliments. I don't take them well. Oh and if you read my entry Jaded Mandarin (How the hell do I link this shit!?), you will see some of the qualities which I am trying to find in a potential mate. Mate...? Making it sound like I am in a documentary on Animal Planet or something. Maybe have that crocodile hunter guy following my ass around saying shit like, "Let's watch the majestic Preston Faggie as he tries to lure a mate. Note the showoffy dance he does while rustling his Banana Republican plummage. Now let's see what happens when i shove my whole head up his arse and sing 'God Save the Queen.'" Mate?! I mean really! If you read Jaded Mandarin, you will see some qualities I am looking for in a potential boyfriend. One of them is the ability to talk to him for 26 hours straight without ever getting bored. We stayed up until 6:30 or 7 this morning talking. He had to work at 2, otherwise, we would have continued our conversation.
So to all of my hundreds of millions of regular readers out there who are wondering about military boy, here is the deal. Basically, he told me up front that he does not believe in monogomy in gay relationships. His words were, "Hey, we are gay men afterall. We have needs. I don't mind my boyfriend fucking around on me as long as it is not behind my back. When it is behind my back, that is when the problem starts." I am the exact opposite. I believe that it is supposed to be two people. Not two people, and two of their friends, and two of THEIR friends, and the guy who runs the register at the Dairy Queen. No ma'am. So that was sort of a strike against him. Plus, he kind of made it clear that we would be nothing more than "friends with benefits." As I am not into casual sex, this was another strike. Then, there is the fact that in five to seven months, he will be moving to Kansas or maybe Kentucky. Strike three. He's out. Still swooning? Hell yes. Actually have a date with him tonight. I have to make sure we don't kiss. If we do, it is over for me. He is sooo damned passionate.
Flaws that Triple B has are his age. Granted, I am 22 and he is 21, but as I am "sick" the yungins sometimes freak out about it. Although, I did tell him when I met him Saturday night. And he did call ME back on Sunday instead of me having to call him. I guess his age is only a flaw because it will take some time to get used to a 21 year old poofter having a mind of his own. His other flaw is that he JUST got out of a four month relationship (that is equal to about 14 years in Hetero Standard Time) like last Wednesday. I do not want to be a rebound. Thought about taking things short bus slow with him so as to let him get thru the 'I need a rebound' phase without me falling victim. Plus, once out of it, we will be so close that we will end up together and make babies which we can turn around and sell on Ebay. Both of us can quit our fulltime jobs and we will live happily evruh afta...or some such shit. I don't know Triple B is pretty cool. Not to be confused with "kewl." I hate seeing it written like that.
Now for today's aimless rant.
As I was washing my right ass cheek a couple of hours ago, it hit me. Why the hell do I want to smell like Kiwi Mango Tropical Breeze Fruit Punch Misty Hawaiian Grapefruit Pear Body Scrub? What is the deal with wanting to smell like a goddamned piece of fruit? I don't get it. I mean, if I worked in an orchard or something, yes, let me smell like an orange. I mean one cannot help it in that instance. But why would anyone want to smell like Peachy Apple Melon? Also if you are crushing grapes in a vineyard you have a reason to smell like fruit. Otherwise, there is no reason to smell like your food fetish took control of you, and you could not help but fuck a banana while pouring orange juice over your head. Don't get me wrong, I do use them and I do think they smell great, but who the hell decided that it is great to smell like a Vanilla Pumpkin? And since I mentioned it, why vanilla? Why not just go to the kitchen and pour vanilla and fruit salad into your bath and wallow around in that? And where does it end? Personally I think that fried chicken smells good. Will Herbal Essence come out with a new line of shampoo or body wash. I don't know Fried Fantasies. Yes you too can smell like...Sensual Spam. Or Liver and Onion s Lagoon. Perhaps Bologna Breeze is for you. They always have some shit thrown in there too that makes no sense with it. Like Arctic Cactus Flower. Jamaican Green Tea Honeydew. Sundried Moonbeam Sweet Nipple Nectar Passions. Victoria, what the fuck is the goddamned secret behind these names? Are they supposed to mean something? Is it a secret form of communication used by the US government? Misty Cabbage Nectar.
And what in the fucking shit hell is a goddamned Cucumber Melon?!?
Last night I went and stayed with a guy that I met Saturday night at this place that pretends to be a club. He is MOST DEFINITELY a guy. Not that I went over there and went to whoring or anything, but I do know for sure that he does, in fact, have a penis. I guess that he could have just had a dildo in his pants. If it was a dildo and he turns out to be a chick, fuck it! I'll just go with it.
I have decided that I am losing my faggot super powers from lack of exposure. That is the only logical explanation for why I could not tell that Miranda was not a Martin. Still a bit thrown off by that whole thing.
So the guy I saw last night, his name will be beer bottle boy or Triple B, is extremely sweet. Not swooning over him by any means, but he has alot of potential. I found out last night that he is actually very intelligent for a hung, 21 year old, southern queer. Pleasant surprise. Less of a pleasant surprise, more of a complete shock. I told him how I feel about Mississippi gay men. All plastic drug addicted sex queens. He sort of laughed and said something like, "Obviously not all are. I mean, I met you." It was kind of a Dawson's Creekie type moment. Kept waiting on some chick to climb through his window or something. Dawson's Creek...who the hell still makes references to that show? I do, BITCH!
Anyway, he is a nice guy. Compliments me too much though. I hate being complimented. I do not know why. Well, yes I think I do know why, but that is neither here nor there. I just hate compliments. I don't take them well. Oh and if you read my entry Jaded Mandarin (How the hell do I link this shit!?), you will see some of the qualities which I am trying to find in a potential mate. Mate...? Making it sound like I am in a documentary on Animal Planet or something. Maybe have that crocodile hunter guy following my ass around saying shit like, "Let's watch the majestic Preston Faggie as he tries to lure a mate. Note the showoffy dance he does while rustling his Banana Republican plummage. Now let's see what happens when i shove my whole head up his arse and sing 'God Save the Queen.'" Mate?! I mean really! If you read Jaded Mandarin, you will see some qualities I am looking for in a potential boyfriend. One of them is the ability to talk to him for 26 hours straight without ever getting bored. We stayed up until 6:30 or 7 this morning talking. He had to work at 2, otherwise, we would have continued our conversation.
So to all of my hundreds of millions of regular readers out there who are wondering about military boy, here is the deal. Basically, he told me up front that he does not believe in monogomy in gay relationships. His words were, "Hey, we are gay men afterall. We have needs. I don't mind my boyfriend fucking around on me as long as it is not behind my back. When it is behind my back, that is when the problem starts." I am the exact opposite. I believe that it is supposed to be two people. Not two people, and two of their friends, and two of THEIR friends, and the guy who runs the register at the Dairy Queen. No ma'am. So that was sort of a strike against him. Plus, he kind of made it clear that we would be nothing more than "friends with benefits." As I am not into casual sex, this was another strike. Then, there is the fact that in five to seven months, he will be moving to Kansas or maybe Kentucky. Strike three. He's out. Still swooning? Hell yes. Actually have a date with him tonight. I have to make sure we don't kiss. If we do, it is over for me. He is sooo damned passionate.
Flaws that Triple B has are his age. Granted, I am 22 and he is 21, but as I am "sick" the yungins sometimes freak out about it. Although, I did tell him when I met him Saturday night. And he did call ME back on Sunday instead of me having to call him. I guess his age is only a flaw because it will take some time to get used to a 21 year old poofter having a mind of his own. His other flaw is that he JUST got out of a four month relationship (that is equal to about 14 years in Hetero Standard Time) like last Wednesday. I do not want to be a rebound. Thought about taking things short bus slow with him so as to let him get thru the 'I need a rebound' phase without me falling victim. Plus, once out of it, we will be so close that we will end up together and make babies which we can turn around and sell on Ebay. Both of us can quit our fulltime jobs and we will live happily evruh afta...or some such shit. I don't know Triple B is pretty cool. Not to be confused with "kewl." I hate seeing it written like that.
Now for today's aimless rant.
As I was washing my right ass cheek a couple of hours ago, it hit me. Why the hell do I want to smell like Kiwi Mango Tropical Breeze Fruit Punch Misty Hawaiian Grapefruit Pear Body Scrub? What is the deal with wanting to smell like a goddamned piece of fruit? I don't get it. I mean, if I worked in an orchard or something, yes, let me smell like an orange. I mean one cannot help it in that instance. But why would anyone want to smell like Peachy Apple Melon? Also if you are crushing grapes in a vineyard you have a reason to smell like fruit. Otherwise, there is no reason to smell like your food fetish took control of you, and you could not help but fuck a banana while pouring orange juice over your head. Don't get me wrong, I do use them and I do think they smell great, but who the hell decided that it is great to smell like a Vanilla Pumpkin? And since I mentioned it, why vanilla? Why not just go to the kitchen and pour vanilla and fruit salad into your bath and wallow around in that? And where does it end? Personally I think that fried chicken smells good. Will Herbal Essence come out with a new line of shampoo or body wash. I don't know Fried Fantasies. Yes you too can smell like...Sensual Spam. Or Liver and Onion s Lagoon. Perhaps Bologna Breeze is for you. They always have some shit thrown in there too that makes no sense with it. Like Arctic Cactus Flower. Jamaican Green Tea Honeydew. Sundried Moonbeam Sweet Nipple Nectar Passions. Victoria, what the fuck is the goddamned secret behind these names? Are they supposed to mean something? Is it a secret form of communication used by the US government? Misty Cabbage Nectar.
And what in the fucking shit hell is a goddamned Cucumber Melon?!?
posted by Preston at 3:54 PM
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