occupy - christmas is just around the corner

engrish.com

occupy - stupid bears are full of stupid

earlier i mentioned how so many homos are dissin' the Occupy movement. dismissing them as a bunch of hippies with no focus in their message even though very similar thoughts would have arisen over the early protest of gay rights. 

gay rights? decriminalisation of butt sex? marriage? transgender equality? they no longer want homosexuality to be thought of as mentally illness? fuck! what more do these hippy faggots want!?!

i expect more from the guy who posted the pic and made comments about them being smelly and looking rubbish tip. not because he's a doctor and should have some social responsibility, but he was after all a model with full sleeve tattoos and used for a recent campaign to stop people judging others by their appearance

as for the stupid cub. stupid cub is naive and stupid if he believes the occupy protest has no relevance in Australia. like many of the others, he thinks economic situation in the USA does not affect him, just because this country if one of a handful that has avoided a severe economic collaspe... so far. 

there's only on sensible voice here. fiona, whoever you are, i love you. clearly she understands and supports people's right to protest. even if it becomes a inconvenience to their delicate sensibilities. just because their message appears fragmented (probably because you haven't paid that much attention to it) doesn't mean they don't have a point

grindring

i thought you said it gets better?

it doesn't get better

look at those fucking cupboards. of course he is straight!

but listen to him anyway

asian muscle tops

opposites attract. you know it. i know it. paula abdul knows it.

i was born a blonde. as a toddler, my hair was blinding white, and as a boy it darkened to a bearable blonde. on a school excursion in the late 1980s, our school bus parked up on the hill that looked out over our fine nation's capital, Canberra. this was a popular spot for tourists, fuck knows why, all you could see it the uninspired nothingness Canberra has to offer. another bus pulled up beside our school troop and a sea of overjoyed asian tourists spilled out. for some reason they were impressed with the view of this shitty city, but not as impressed as they were by blonde hair. my classmate, Sarah, and i were quickly snatched by the group and forced to pose in their photos. our supervising teacher gave in to the sheer abundance of smiles that grew on the faces of the tourists. once they had two bright blonde aussie children posing as little defiant rowboats in their tsunami of shiny black hair. i was a little traumatised and ran away after a few pictures. Sarah was not so lucky. not only did she have blonde hair but she had sparkling blue eyes. she was worth so much more than me with my dirty green peepers. 

i hated being blonde. as i got into my late teens, i just shaved the fucking shit off. thankfully the hair that grew on my body was darker. when my chest hair sprouted in my early 20s it was mousey brown. ahh, sweet relief! 

but the hair that had grown on my arms and legs was cursed to stay blonde. as was the hair that grew on my arse (i had a furry arse by the age of 13). it never darkened. most of the time i can slip by unnoticed, but if ever i'm caught in full sunlight my blonde hairs sparkle and shimmer like golden fleece blowing in the breeze. since i live in Australia, that means i'm in full sunlight 365 fucking days a year! i love the beach so when ever i run to the surf i have a haze of glitter twinkling all around my limbs. 

it's sickening! what was even scarier, when i grew a beard, it turned ginger. i was an undercover 'ranga after all

some people love blondes. so throw in a bit of a ginger beard and some men go crazy! in particular asian, mediterranian, arab and middle eastern men. so i get a fair few clients of that description. it's mostly asian clients that i have. more often than not want to be dominated, bullied, savaged and rammed by white bread aussie cock. white bread or in-bred? - i often confuse the two personas. 

generally, i'm not really sexually attracted to asian guys. so there you go. i'm a sexual racist. but you already knew that from my anti-douchebags of grindr rant. i'm also not attracted to blonde guys either so most scandinavian races are out too (but that's okay to hate them from my 'position of privilege' because they're white, right?), apparently to many people who target sexual racism, it seems to be okay if you aren't attracted to certain races, you just aren't allowed to publicise it. that makes no sense to me at all.

"i get a lot of 'rice queens' who want me to play the submissive giggly asian boy. but… ew…" said an asian* friend of mine said many years ago, "all you white guys smell like egg and sour milk to me!" it was great to hear things from his side. he had an unbiased view of the posturing and politics gay men play into. an very smart man with an enviable wit that would have you having on every wise ass comment he said

yet, in the work situation my attractions aren't important. a hole is a hole and every hole is a goal… or a paycheque. so when it comes to asian clients, personally, i love it! they're short. they're generally fit, thin and light. they're strongly built little dudes that you can just pick up with one hand and fuck the guts out of them. little asses so tight you can almost hear that ass-ring of muscle pop as your slip big white cock in. like a good ol' toyota hilux, you can fuck the guts out them and they don't break like so many of them sissy white boys do. 

plus, they love the act. 'oh, me so horny!' unfortunately can be a pretty accurate representation of how many behave. is it for their benefit? is it for mine? is it even real? who cares. all verbal is good and it's great fun to watch!

"oh, ready Shirley? this one like the act!"

so now with my new beefy hairy blonde arse i had become a magnet for asian tops. thankfully for my tight ass these guys generally aren't overly hung, but they sure make up for it and really put on a show. it's like they are trying to impress me. i was twice the size of many of them, so it was a bit like getting fucked by a jack russell (i would imagine… 

…and, oh my, have i imagined that scenario. lost and lonely on a dark and stormy night, a fair gent like myself wanders into the lost dogs home and having to rely on the kindness of strangers. one by one they take me into their kennel. sharing their kibble with me. together we gnaw on a bone. ever nibbling closer until his wet nose touches my dry cheeks. his meaty breath on my neck. his paw lovingly caresses my face. we embrace…

ahem… i imagine….)

all these asian muscle tops seemed to appear from everywhere. one guy came around late on a sunday night. a little wired and wanted to pound some white hairy ass. pausing every now and then to suck on his crack pipe while i knocked back a few beers

bang! bang! bang! rubbing the blonde hair on my arms

it's 1 am. "can we go another hour?"

"sure"

bang! bang! bang! rubbing the blonde hair on my legs

it's 2 am. "can we go another hour?"

"mmm sure"

bang! bang! bang! rubbing the blonde hair on my ass

it's 3am "can we go another hour?"

"ummm.. okay"

bang! bang! bang! grabbing my ginger beard

it's 3:59am "can we go another hour?"

"no. "

i see that same guy a lot. he's a great guy. often stops in the middle of the night and orders a huge steak each from room service, i usually end up eating both. i'm like his big chia pet for the night, he keeps me feed and watered to keep that blonde hair sprouting. 

i saw a new guy just a few weeks back. in an enormous house on Sydney Harbour. it was a stressful day and did not trust my equipment to function at it's best. so i viagra-ed myself up so much my cock could have knock a glory hole through the inch thick glass wall of his shower recess. i was ready to fuck anything, then WHAM the little guy throws me face down. i get a lovely view of the harbour bridge and opera house while he rammed the shit out of me.

is it opposites attract? or is there a touch of racial revenge in fucking the ass off a white guy? i reckon i would enjoy it if they smacked me around, spat on me shouting "fucking take it, you white cunt!" 

who gives a fuck. you're reading too much into it. it's just sex. and it's fun

scruffin'

oh, you sweet talker

mix tape - track zero

mix tape - track zero

Bjork : mutual core

this is what NOT to play when entertaining clients. any Bjork track is a bad idea for sexy times

"i shuffle around the tectonic plates..."

fuck, bitch so do i! but i don't go writing a song about it...

shopping V - this changes everything

i was happy to come back to melbourne. though, i now knew where i wanted to be and this city wasn't it. i was happy to be back home. happy to see my housemates and my friends. back at a real gym (really? that's number 3 on my list? that's fucking sad). happy to see my bed (after being ass raped my lower back hurt so much i was in bed for 3 days.)

"you got shagger's back," the Irish Elk quipped

"what?"

"shagger's back. from too much shagging."

"what!?! no! i don't! i wasn't…! i don't know what you're talking about!… hmm.. oh yeah, well maybe…"

and i was happy to see… to see… 

nothing else really

oh yeah, my personal shopper. he was itching to go shopping again. i have seen him nearly every 2 weeks for the last 5 months. he has helped out a lot with all the things i probably do need but can't be fucked buying because i don't think i really need those shoes, or those jeans that make my ass look hot, or that new bag... 

"so are you excited about the iphone 5?" he would ask almost every time we went shopping. 

"meh… i guess." his eyes would sparkle and i'd rethink my answer, "yeah would be great to get one."

the excitement didn't die down when the iphone 5 was downgraded to just the 4S

"so do you want one?"

"yeah sure," i said never thinking he would really get me one until i got a text asking what colour i wanted. i said 'white' because it's getting a bit annoying confusing a friends phone for my own. or even worse, as i did once, accidentally walking out from a job and turning up to the next job with the previous client's iphone in my hand instead of my own. 

"white?" Elk sniggered inwardly in that subdued disapproving way. it's a face that reveals nothing of his true opinion. but if you put a little pressure on him (i.e. remain silent and raise an suspicious eyebrow) he will crack. he did. he laughed. "white. hmm.. okay…"

"yeah. fuck what am i? a 16 year old asian girl?" i quickly texted my shopper back and asked for black. 

i saw him 2 days later. he excitedly handed it over. i was excited to get it (partly because i had been such a fucking smug little cunt the last 24 hours declaring, "oh is a new iphone coming out? well guess who's getting one tomorrow?" and i would point to me if they were too dumb to figure out that i meant me)

he had taken the day off work and cued at the apple store at 5am to get one. just one. for me. not for himself. 

"now you wanna go shopping for iphone accessories?"

"fuck yeah i do!"

David 'Wolfman' Williams - planking

the wolfman planking. i'm in love

watch through to the end

david 'wolfman' williams - not gay

the wolfman molesting ballin. adorable

the man who taught his asshole to talk

"Did I ever tell you about the man who taught his asshole to talk?"

i wish i had spoken to more than one gay man about the side effects of steroids before using them. everybody has heard of 'roid rage. thankfully, i never got that. if anything it made me calmer, happier and less aggressive. 

appetite increased also. and with that so did flatulence. that started with a bang. many bangs. not polite squeakers, mind you, explosions every few minutes. they were nothing you could suppress or release on the sly should you be trapped in the company of others. these were farts were loud and musical. an orchestra. my bowels were a walking brass section - bronzed, polished and proud. they seemed harmless at first and were mostly humorous, if only to me. little did i know these were not farts as all, but the first breaths of a new life...

"…His whole abdomen would move up and down, you dig. farting out the words. It was unlike anything I ever heard. This ass talk had sort of a gut frequency. It hit you right down there like you gotta go. You know when the old colon gives you the elbow and it feels sorta cold inside, and you know all you have to do is turn loose? Well this talking hit you right down there, a bubbly, thick stagnant sound, a sound you could smell…"

the third new side effect of the cycle was sex drive

"your libido will be out of control." was what my trainer said

my libido already was out of control. it's been out of control since my mid 20s. so initially the hormones seemed to make little difference. now i'm in Darlinghurst for 3 weeks where there is available cock strutting up and down the streets 24/7 i can finally be satisfied. but something happened that i was not aware of - i'm normally, and mostly, a top but now i just wanted to get fucked up the ass. all the time. non-stop. cocks. every angle. the harder the better. pounding my guts. splitting me in two

"...to start with it was like a novelty…"

the feeling crept up on me so slowly i didn't notice. it was my second weekend in Sydney. i was at this guy's apartment. he lived in the building i used to live in 4 years ago. identical apartment only a few floors up so the situation was weird to begin with. the man had a big weekend and this was his way to finished it. we were getting nasty in the bedroom and i was fucking him pretty hard so it came as no surprise when things got a little fudgey. we cleaned up and showered and continued

"i wanna eat your arse," he said. who am i to deny? i rolled on all fours and with the right contrast of smooth tongue and rough stubble i was pushing back like a battering ram busting through the castle gates - ass first. "i wanna fuck you," he said

"then fuckin' do it already!" i growled. "woah, where did that come from?"i thought for a moment. anyway, he did fuck me and i was loving it… to a point. he was plodding away. i was on my back while he holding my legs in the air by the ankles. "harder," i said. maybe i didn't say it loud enough. "harder!"

he looked at me but nothing changed. he was looking down at me and was just enjoying the view, i guess. don't get me wrong. it was good. i just wanted more. and i wanted it now!

"fuck me harder!" and i threw my clenched fist into his chest. no reaction. "fuck me harder!" i growled. no change. my grunting had gotten out of control and now, so was i. my arm shot out and grabbed him by the throat. "i said FUCK ME HARDER!" still nothing changed. then my other hand reached out and grabbed him. with both my hands closed around his throat i boomed "fuck me harder, faggot! fuck me!!!" all i could see was the whites of his eyes as i choked him, pulling on his neck and thrusting my ass up into him. "fucking smash it, cunt! fucking…" i don't know what i was saying from here on. spitting out obscenities and frothing at the mouth. i was possessed by some ass demon. i was rabid. 

he froze as he watched me fuck myself up into him. i think he was in shock. i didn't care. i had reached boiling point. "oh fuck this!" and i threw him face down on the bed and used all my weight on the back of his neck to hold him still while i pulled a rubber on. "this is how it's done! fuck me like this, you fucking pussy!" and i slammed my cock into him. i was banging away like a madman

"what are you doing?" i said to myself, "this is a client." and i thought for a second. "oh shit! this is a client!  oh fuck!  calm down, boy. this isn't a hook up. this is a job!" and here i was raping some guys ass. i flipped him over and blew all over his face. he lay there choking on my load, rubbing his own load out. 

i collapsed on the bed. when the client caught his breath he gurgled, "that was intense. woah… and i think you might be a power bottom."

what was happening to me? what have i become? 

for the next week. i just wanted to be fucked. you endlessly hear about cities with a major gay population having nothing but bottoms. "where are all the tops!?!" the old queens shout. i don't know what they are talking about. i find them so easily. i think if you look like a bottom then many guys aren't interested. there's no challenge when they're screaming "i am the weakest baboon of all!" since guys want something they can't have, my ass gets hit on a lot because they assume i will say no. now i was saying yes. so i got banged left, right and centre. upside down. inside out. bashed in backrooms. slammed on staircases. i was spitting on them. throwing punches. demanding they fuck me harder. growling like the devil himself was inside me. it was inside me. it was part of me. my ass was becoming conscious

"oh yeah," said Grant, a wise old gay owl and regular customer at Signal, "for a drug that is supposed to make you more masculine, it totally feminises you. you just become one big bottom."

"why you didn't you tell me this a month ago?"

my ass was out of control. out of my control. it was controlling me. morning. afternoon. night. i wake up after a few hours sleep i'd wake up, turn on grindr and get another one. 

i was no longer human. i was just one big bottom. this terror from within had a grip on me. it was insatiable. my arse hairs grew like tentacoli. while i slept these blonde tentacles were sweeping the streets and back alleys. peeking through bedroom windows and over-turning garbage bins at night for lost and lonely erections. devouring the flesh of any man foolish to stay in their path

" ...Finally it talked all the time day and night, you could hear him for blocks screaming at it to shut up, and beating it with his fist, and sticking candles up it, but nothing did any good and the asshole said to him: “It’s you who will shut up in the end. Not me. Because we dont need you around here any more. I can talk and eat and shit.”…"

one poor sod had the life frightened out of him. he was one of those men blessed with a 10 inch dick but would endlessly complain about it being a curse and too big for many guys to take. "aww, my heart bleeds," i said, "suck it up princess if that's your biggest problem in life then you've a got a pretty sweet life." maybe that wasn't the best way to start a hook up, but i just wanted to get down to business. after some struggling and screaming i finally got that all the way to the base on that 10 inch dick.

it was intense. i was growling, laughing, crying and yelling indecipherable obscenities all at once. demons. running all through me. talking in tongues. then i snapped again. i was on top riding that damn bull when i grabbed him by the throat with one hand and drew back my other into a fist shouting "YOU MOTHERFUCKING CUNT!!!" all i saw was the terrified whites of his eye just before he tried to turn away his head to avoid my striking fist. luckily, i pulled my fist to a halt inches from his face. 

the rest of the afternoon involved his hand shoved over my frothing mouth, then him holding a pillow of my face. my growling climax was so loud the neighbours' dogs were barking back at me. "i'm in melbourne next month. i'll look you up," he said. thankfully, this was not a client, yet unsurprisingly, due to my bad manners, i have never heard back from him.

"….After that he began waking up in the morning with a transparent jelly like a tadpole’s tail all over his mouth. This jelly was what the scientists call un-D.T., Undifferentiated Tissue, which can grow into any kind of flesh on the human body. He would tear it off his mouth and the pieces would stick to his hands like burning gasoline jelly and grow there, grow anywhere on him a glob of it fell. So finally his mouth sealed over…"

at the end of the 3 weeks my ass had totally consumed me. i could not move. i could not walk. no gym. no movement. i could only lay on the couch and chat on grindr and scruff. my time was nearly up. Sydney had worn me down, hollowed me out, i was nothing but a shell of a man. not even a man. just a big hollow bottom. you could toss a penny inside my rectum and you never hear it reach the end. finally, on the last day as i packed my bags and prepared myself to return to melbourne and the mostly mediocre sex that happens there, i decided to have one final hook up

the Gorilla was a hot man in his 40s and a really cool guy too. i had fooled around a few times before in a back room toilet. that's not an easy feat when he is one huge hulk of lebanese muscle. now that there was the opportunity to meet at his place i was there in a heartbeat. we played around a little bit then he asked: "you don't take it, do you?"

"Gorilla," i said feeling the size of his huge cock in my hands. i'm sure we both heard the sound of the tiny bones in my hand being crushed under it's weight. i mustered the courage, i mustered up the courage? no, it wasn't me speaking anymore... and a voice from within me answered: "today. i will cop it." 

and i did. i got banged like the dirty whore i am. we were so rough rubber after rubber kept breaking

"i think i'm out of condoms,"

"i got more in my bag," i said neither of us moved, "it's all the way out in your hallway."

"you clean?" the Gorilla huffed

"yeah. you?"

"sure am."

"alright. let's go."

not the most in-depth discussion one could have about one's HIV status and making the decision to not use protection but the basics were covered. my ass was speaking for me now. i'm not even sure my lips moved, the ones on my face anyway.  now that we were fucking raw it turned even nastier. i was kicking. screaming. kicking and writhing underneath his patented 'helicopter' move. yelling "you fucking cunt! CUNT!!!!" while punching his chest. most of my behaviour he laughed off, but when i got too much and he wanted a five minute break he'd just throw his full weight on me and hold me there. i had no choice but to calm down. 120kg of muscle is very persuasive

"what's wrong, pussycat? did i wear you out?"

"no!" muffled face down in the bed i growled. the sheets wet with my spit, "i can take it!"

"what's that? awww… can't you take anymore?"

i lifted my head, "fuck off, i can take more," my hips were throwing back up into him. i was grunting like a wild boar and pushing back so hard it raised the bulk of him up off the bed, "and DON'T FUCKING CALL ME PUSSYCAT!" the violence started all over again

2 hours later we were an exhausted heap of sweaty meat. my hole had been bred twice. i lay face down on the Gorilla's chest. my ass in the air. abused and battered, so when the breeze from the window blew across the wide gaping chasm that was once my asshole it made a deep humming sound not unlike that of an oboe

hours later i was on the plane back to melbourne. i had said almost nothing the whole time. was it because my mouth had completely sealed over? was it because i was finally satisfied? i was well fed before the flight, both my stomach and my greedy ass, so either way, i was silent. 

well, almost. what was the third side effect again? flatulence. that's okay. i could let it rip. i was on a plane. the noisy engines would cover the sound and the air con will whisk away the stench before the people around me knew. so i did. i let a fart so forceful you may not have heard it, but the seat vibrated with such vigour the movement tickled my balls. the second it ripped out of me i knew i should not have let this one out. my eyes widened in terror. "that's not dry!"i gasped silently "that was wet! sweet jesus, that fart was wet!" i panicked but i could smell nothing. i soon calmed knowing that i did not shit myself. my pants were not full of poop. it was jizz. the Gorilla's load of manchowder from earlier today. i could do nothing but sit the rest of the flight while a bucket of white baby gravy thickened and congealed in my jocks. i would not go to the bathroom now. it's too late. i can cover the wet patches with my backpack when i disembark this aircraft. so i admitted defeat and rest my head against the window

i cried a little bit, but i mostly laughed. it was my baby's first word. that word may have been "ppffbloomp!" but my asshole had begun to talk. talk all on it's own. i felt a sense of pride and defeat as i pass my life onto my ass. as it grows and strengthens, soon it's speech will form sentences. it will sing songs, write and recite poetry all on it's own. it will be at the heart of many a dinner party conversation entertaining folk who have travelled far and wide just to dine with my talking ass. they won't come to see me. it has no use for me anymore. what will become of me?

"...the whole head would have have amputated spontaneous except for the eyes, you dig. Thats one thing the asshole couldn’t do was see. It needed the eyes. But nerve connections were blocked and infiltrated and atrophied so the brain couldn’t give orders any more. It was trapped in the skull, sealed off. For a while you could see the silent, helpless suffering of the brain behind the eyes, then finally the brain must have died, because the eyes went out, and there was no more feeling in them than a crab’s eyes on the end of a stalk."

scruffing

from the nokia vault II

breaking the rules - redrum

you know how i've said before to say nothing? no. well, i did. don't express an opinion. you don't want to have an argument

Sam is a burly little cub in Sydney. he's the modern geek - shy nerdy quiet type but extremely set in his opinions on unimportant things. things like the free flowing analogue recording of an LP is far superior the digital recording of a cd. yeah it may be true but who gives a fuck. 

i'm pretty much the same. i'm an opinonated fuck.  i just don't have the IT job during the day. 

i've seen Sam many times over the last couple of years and it's always good to catch up with him. i like them meaty and hairy so he's a good looking kid. i was pleased to see he cropped his greasy hipster hair and grew a beard. "i've just been too lazy to shave." he said. the sex is good. he's learning to relax and enjoy the moment and not worry about the other person. it's good to be attentive but always enjoy your end of the deal, i can take care of myself. he's got a big cock and loves to fuck. he's going to make some man very happy one day

we usually chat afterwards and this night i was extra chatty after a boring 8 hour shift at work. we tend to agree or agree to disagree on most music, books and films. then he said this: "Eyes Wide Shut was my no means his worst film. it was pretty good. much better than that Stephen King thing he did."

my lips shrank, tightened and they turned white "what?"

"um… what was it. with Jack Nicholson. terrible."

my pupils flared as my eyes squinted, "what!?!"

"The Shining. that was awful. awful movie."

that was it. i'd heard enough. "get the fuck out of my apartment!"

"did you like it? it was shit. over acted. hammy. boring! nothing happened just a kid wheeling around on ugly carpet"

"oh fuck off!" gone was my rule of expressing an opinion. tonight i was shouting them. "the tension. the creepy building. that triply carpet. the symmetry of every frame! and it was not over acted! Jack was a perfect portrayal of my father in one of his weekly violent schizo explosions! and before you say anything else you better hope those schizo explosions aren't hereditary."

"King wrote a brilliant novel-"

"King is a fucking no talent hack! he uses the same characters in every book. the writer! the recovering whatever needing redemption! the slut! the cotton picking' black guy! a retard! the wise old black woman or man! a freaky psychic kid-"

"and Kubrik stripped it down to nothing and it made no sense. nothing happened. shit is happening all through the book but the film. nothing!"

"Kubrik stripped it down to the important elements-"

"he took out the gangsters. the blah blah blah…" i stopped listening. then he said it. "the tv movie was better!"

"OH!" i spat, "YOU ARE FUCKING KIDDING ME!!! the only good thing about that 6 hour slice of shit was Rebecca DeMornay getting punch in the guts. that version was fucking woeful! now get out. seriously! get the fuck out! now!"

i threw him out and pretended i was making a joke of it. but i was dead fucking serious! no praising of Stephen King. not under my roof! ever!

amen (in the bathroom)

are you here to screw or are you here to screw me over?

it was like any other job. a nice sweet guy in an inner city suburb. he just wants a hot blokey man. nothing too heavy. no anal. he just wanted to suck a nice big dick ...fuck knows why he called me

he just wanted me to lie back on the bed while he sucked my dick. he'd rub the hair on my chest and look up, smile and say stuff like "you're a beautiful man."

i would smile, giggle a bit as compliments from people i barely know make me nervous, and say "thanks"

after it was over we lay back on the bed. again, i awoke to the sound of my own snoring. he thought it was cute and laughed. i jumped up and went to shower

normally when using a clients bathroom there are three things to look out for:

a) even with some very clear directions, navigating yourself to the bathroom in someone else's home for the first time can be difficult. try not wander through their house opening random doors trying to find the fucking thing. you don't want them to think you're going to fleece them of their possessions, be casing the joint to burgle them at a later time or, even worse, have them think you're some dumb fuck who can't find the bathroom

b) once you are in the shower, if you have a problem with soap, you will find yourself foraging through the junk in that little enclosure to find the body wash amongst the sea of near-empty bottles of shampoo and conditioner. many guys stack so many bottles together that you second you grab one you accidentally knock that bottle against another. that bottle knocks another and before you know it you have triggered a domino effect. one by one the surrounding bottles tumble over making one hell of a racquet. soon you're kicking the damn things around the shower trying to pick the fuckers up and stack them without slipping over

c) if you are just using the toilet, try to avoid/ignore the not-quite-flushed poo lurking in the bottom of the toilet bowl. like a timid little mouse it just peeks around the s-bend up at you hiding in the brown halo that has formed during time it has sat there - usually 2 minutes before i arrived. don't be shocked by what may appear to be a lack of hygene, some shitters just don't flush very well and some turd are just stubborn little buggers. so just ignore it

i didn't run into any of these issues this time. but this man's bathroom was different. this room was full of handmade posters and signs he had made himself. on each sign he had written words and slogans of positive reinforcement. his strengths. his achievements. his goals. his dreams and his hopes for the future. 

although it's a very useful technique to reinforce something (while studying Russian language i painted one wall of my bedroom with the Cyrillic alphabet), but i found this a little creepy. a little brainwashing. a little cult-like. everywhere i looked i could't avoid it. it felt like this man's voice was constantly reaffirming the positive aspects of his life to drown out the negativities that nag him and overwhelm him.  one wall was a collage of pictures of cities and wonders of the world cut from magazines. scattered amongst the landmarks were pictures of fit and muscled underwear models. this was his ideal boyfriend. 

when he called to see me a second time. i had reservations, but i did the job anyway. he was overjoyed. but three days later he wanted to see me again on my days in Sydney. i declined. i didn't think it was healthy that he see me again so soon. i don't know his history but it seemed like there might be some instability there. i don't want to exploit someones vulnerability. 

people say a fool and his money are soon parted. though this man is not a fool and it would be a cunt of a person to take advantage of someone.

i'm just here to screw you. i'm not here to screw you over

falling joys : amen

thank god i'm a cuntry boy

while tramping it up between jobs i arranged a hook up with Kevin. a big solid lad. great guy. hot arse. a country boy. he's friendly. great to hang out with. always keen to hang out again. overly keen actually… way too keen… then annoyingly keen.

i've been here before. everything about his behaviour, mannerisms and even speech reminded me of my ex. he even looked a little like him. it scared the hell out of me

it sucks when you meet someone and suddenly so many things about them, from physical features to movement and speech, can remind you of someone else - someone you don't want to be reminded of. you don't even get to know this new person because when you look at them all you see is someone you already know. their faults. the hurdles. the issues

Remind Me from Röyksopp on Vimeo.

why am i saying 'you'? i have no idea if this happens to anyone else. does this happen to anyone else?

i tell Kevin nothing and keep him at a distance. we'd train together a few times but no more hanky panky

"that guy keeps staring at us," Kevin pointed out at the gym

"ahh yeah well...," i released the tricep pushdown with the usual grunt, "you're hot. you know what it's like being one of the beautiful people." i was more interested in massaging my own vanity with these pumped arms than whether some guy was staring at us

"i'm not hot."

i put my exhausted hands on my hips and screwed my sweaty face up in confusion, "eh?"

"i don't think i'm hot."

"but you think i am?" i asked. he nodded. "if i'm hot, you reckon i'd fuck an ugly cunt? no. i wouldn't." just as well were at the gym. we have some work to do on that self-image. "and i'm not hot. i'm ruggedly handsome," i said lifting up my sweaty wifebeater and pouted my lips while sensually rubbing my exposed hairy belly. 

i think i farted then too