Fret for your figure and
Fret for your latte and
Fret for your lawsuit and
Fret for your hairpiece and
Fret for your Prozac and
Fret for your pilot and
Fret for your contract and
Fret for your car
It’s a bullshit, three-ring circus, sideshow of freaks
Learn to swim
“Aenima,” Tool ‘96
Wednesday, 6/25/14 9:12 PM
Note that Pride Sunday 6/29 will be our last party until the following Sunday, 7/6. We will not have these three parties: Tues 7/1, Thurs 7/3, Fri 7/4. Pride Sunday is always the biggest day of the year, but that week (including July 4th), is the worst week of the year. So this is the one week I’ll be taking off.
Ö Ö Ö
The VÏSCERA party on Friday 6/20 was tremendous. It brought the second most guys ever to one of my parties (last year’s Pride Sunday was the most, sure to be exceeded by this year’s Pride Sunday). The music created an urgency and mood that lent itself well to a hot, sexual experience.
Only one guy said the music was too loud for him (I turned it down), so he hung out near me for a little while, before leaving. Everyone else seemed to really get into it.
But it ain’t for the weak-of-ear!
Coming up with the setlist got me to delve into the rock music I’d been missing out on for almost 20 years, since I’d stopped listening. I used to get my fill of new music from the radio, while driving my car; I gave up the car (and hence, the radio), when I moved to Manhattan in 1997. I use iTunes, these days, and have been checking out a lot of that music, including “nu metal” and even “death metal.”
I love being progressive. There are always new things to enjoy.
I hadn’t thought of breaking out the fog machine until a few minutes before the party, so I didn’t have time to find it. We’ll use it next time.
We’ll have another VÏSCERA orgy on Friday, July 18th.
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Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve been attracted to middle-aged men. While young gay boys were into other young gay boys, I was fantasizing about men like Lee Majors and Bill Bixby. I didn’t care about my classmates; I was dreaming about my teachers.
In my early/mid-20s, I recall wondering what I’d be like, look like, sound like when I got to be in my 40s. I’d look at 40-somethings and know that there were differences between them and me, but I couldn’t pinpoint what they actually were. Other than looking older, of course. I’d wonder, what will I have then that I don’t have now? I figured the obvious: confidence.
But confidence is more of a biproduct of getting older, than something primary. It’s more about naturally assuming power over oneself and one’s situation. That power is very slowly gained over time. More than confidence, it’s a matter of having been through enough experiences, having them to cross-reference, and cooly dealing with things which may have been much more dramatic, at a younger age.
Managing one’s highs and lows.
Being in a space full of this type of personality is hot and empowering, and relaxed.
I think men peak at 50 years old, regarding one’s personal power. We may start noticeably losing muscle mass at 40, but we noticeably gain “life mass” and a quiet knowledge of what it’s all about. Left behind is the penchant for drama, replaced by a more existential outlook and approach to life.
Men over 35 also typically walk on the right-hand side of the sidewalk, responsibly letting traffic flow freely, as opposed those who feel entitled, drifting to the center, making others have to get out of the way. Most men are responsible, that way, and aware of doing the right thing.
This, to me, is very sexy.
Younger guys are usually still tethered to their teen years, where grown-ups are “required” to help them along. Most (American) women are like this, too, whereby they expect men to do for them.
I love folks who do for themselves, regardless of age, and regardless of gender. Truly independent people are sexy to me.
For instance, if I were at dinner with a large group of people, I would want to be with those who each try to get the check. Anyone who’d conveniently go use the bathroom when the check comes, or merely feels like they’re too entitled to contribute, is someone I’d rather not spend my time with. Kids, sure, but anyone who’s considered to be an adult ought to act like one, as much as they’re able to.
I’ve never wanted to take care of anyone, nor have I ever wanted to be taken care of. In my 20s, or at any point in my life, if I couldn’t afford something, I didn’t do it. I wanted to be considered a man, so I acted like one.
Those are usually the types of 20-somethings who come here: young men, as opposed to old boys. They contribute to their situation, being responsible for their situation, without trying to come off as entitled or otherwise too special.
I like those young guys. I respect them. I even comp them when I realize they’re like this, expecting to fully contribute even if they have less than the next, older guy. They are men, albeit young, but well on their way to being “fully formed,” while others continually seek to maintain their “but I’m only...” status.
To me, that is part of the New Effeminate – not speaking with a fruity lisp or whatever, but using their looks, age, or other status to gain something from someone else. May as well put on make-up.
Just yesterday, I saw a young guy (obviously gay, but whatever) wearing a shirt, which read, “Buy me things.”
So these are the types of people I gravitate toward: responsible, thoughtful, existential. These are also the types of men I look for when screening for parties.
Know that, my friend.
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PRIDE WEEKEND, our biggest of the year. ‘nuff said.
The Örgy Guy