While the site is long gone, the dream continues with an adventure to Rockport for the weekend.
I’ll return with pictures on Monday.
1. I got an unexpected phone call this afternoon from a Long Island number. The man on the other end introduced himself but I could barely hear him. However, we did agree to get lunch at 12:30 tomorrow afternoon by my office. I’m hoping mystery man turns out to be the guido of my dreams. Or, it might end up being Fratboy calling from another number.
2. While ordering a sandwich today, a guy I fucked around with once ran into me. We talked for a little before parting ways. He sent me a text later in the afternoon saying that we should hang out sometime. I was reminded of the text he sent me earlier this year asking me to come fuck him. He wanted it so bad that he was willing to pay the cab fare to get me to his place. As enticing as that sounded (not really), I declined by ignoring all incoming messages–because that is the mature thing to do.
How am I friends with anyone?
The weeks are dwindling down until I make the trip towards Syracuse for a (hopefully) enjoyable July 4th weekend with the boyfriend and his family. I say “hopefully” because last year’s trip to the New York lakehouse wasn’t exactly the dream weekend I pictured. Granted, meeting your significant other’s family for the first time has to be interesting. But I wish my boyfriend had prepared me for what I was getting myself into.
I’m convinced his father was born in the 1400s, frozen in time and then re-awakened within the past century. Aside from the typical, religiously-tied-to indifference towards homosexuality, his view of women is deplorable. Sadly, my boyfriend’s mom cannot divorce from the loveless marriage without causing significant financial damage to the family.
My boyfriend mentioned to me a few weeks ago that his father threatened to disown him if he were to get a divorce. Them being together is “the only reason why [he] is tolerating [my boyfriend's] behavior.” While I was speechless, my boyfriend bottled up his emotions and continued on–an emotionally violent resurgence, I’m sure, will occur down the line.
Meanwhile, the times I’ve been around his father, he’s proven to be pleasant to me–aside from the awkward death threat or two. He’s hugged me, included me in family activities, etc. All of this to gather data for my impending doom? Perhaps. I choose to play optimistic and hope he’s learning to change his ways before he permanently damages his children.
Luckily, the majority of my boyfriend’s extended family (as well as his mom and three brothers) supports our relationship and his homosexuality. Thus, I won’t have to keep a blunt object to protect myself at all times/the times I’ll be shit-faced out of my mind. I know having my boyfriend, his brothers and cousins there will make for a good time.
Drunk tubing, you say? Count me in.
S and I were supposed to bro it up by making a pact to “get jacked” by the end of the summer. He’s bailed out because the girl he’s seeing likes his frame now. I, on the other hand, will not be satisfied till my muscles do this:
Insert shameless me-pulling-my-shirt-up-look-at-my-pecs picture here:
Progress. Have to start somewhere, nawmean?
I’m irrationally angry that the guy I want to mess around with just went home with another guy.
I workout. What the hell?
While sitting around the dining room table last night with a few of my friends and a pot full of sangria, a guy I met last week said to me, “Sorry if I creeped you out at the barbecue.” I laughed and reassured him that I hadn’t been. “I’m almost positive that all the guys on campus know or know of each other. It’s a pretty small crew.” The guy’s friend chimed in, “Yeah! I agree with that. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you around, too.” I was slightly taken aback but laughed again. The only reason that gay guys on campus know each other is because they all fuck each other.
When I started college, the guys I met had promiscuous reputations. One of them, Muscles, probably had the worst reputation out of all of them. However, I quickly learned that this couldn’t have been further from the truth. He was a virgin when I first met him. Regardless, I could see how the rumor could’ve started since he had plenty of gay friends (strangely unheard of for me). The majority of them seemed familiar and I realized it was because I either saw them on campus or Facebook. And after meeting them a few more times, I saw how each of them were connected to one another. This guy dated that guy. This guy dated the other guy’s ex. The ex now dates the other guy’s best friend.
It makes you wonder if this is just a Boston-regional thing or if this happens all over the place.
Part of the deal of working on campus this summer is getting free housing. I’m currently living in a brownstone apartment with three of my school friends. I’m proud to say that none of us have picked up homicidal tendencies after being in this living situation for the past month. With that said, I must admit that my roommate situations over the past few years at college have been pretty dismal. I’ve lived with a guy who started college with an overprotective, racist girlfriend (who was still a junior in high school at the time)–this means he never left the dorm, hardly made any friends and always smelled like mold. Sophomore year, I lived with a Linux-programmer turned computer hacker, drug addict.
I remember one night coming back to my room only to find an empty box of Lertus CD on his desk. If you don’t know what Lertus CD is, it’s a painkiller that was sold exclusively in Mexico but was recalled in mid-2009. This drug had to be recalled. In Mexico. It contained 50mg of codeine–which, if you don’t know your drugs (for shame), is a lot and could cause liver damage. Oddly enough, I never saw any harmful side-effects in my roommate except for his increasing paranoia (believing that I stole his drugs) and inability to wash himself or his clothing.
After dealing with him, I wondered why I had such odd roommate experiences. Was it them? Was this normal? Was it me? I don’t think of myself as a terrible roommate–I shower regularly, do my laundry and keep my things tidy (for the most part)–what else could it be? I came to the conclusion that it’s unnatural for two people to share a bedroom. It’s too close and you learn things about one another that you wish you hadn’t. This past year, after living with seven of my friends in a suite, I realized that I needed my own space. Though I was lucky enough to have my own bedroom, the walls were still thin and it was tough falling asleep to six guys heavily drinking at 2am on a school night.
This summer, on the other hand, has been a blessing compared to past experiences. I have three roommates: Z, S and M.
Z: I’ve known him since freshman year when he was my neighbor. He’s a genuinely sweet guy who wants to be a teacher for inner-city schools when he graduates. He’s had two, long-term relationships since I’ve met him. Though, he did date a girl early on for a week who ended up sending her friends to physically attack him when they broke up. Z was left with scratches on his chest and a grim reminder to not cross paths with English majors who find existential meaning in Sufjan Stevens songs. Currently, two of our friends (Rei and Meg) have a crush on him.
S: For the past year, he was the roommate of my friend who recently came out, Princess. His experiences with Princess have built a solid foundation for our friendship. Mainly, the two of us analyze Princess’ behavior and realize we’re better people than him. S dated one of my friends towards the end of this past semester. However, my friend became afraid of commitment and ended their relationship. The two of them work in the same area this summer so awkward encounters have been plentiful. Luckily for him, S and another friend of mine (great) have become interested in one another and are hanging out more frequently.
M: Only met him when I moved in to the apartment a month ago but he’s a very independent guy. He’s barely at the apartment but when he is, he’s fun to be around. His girlfriend has stayed over a few times. Z, S and I have agreed to only be in our underwear when she’s over. Just for funsies.
It’s guys like these who remind me that I’m not the weird one. It’s the codeine-snorting, Linux users who are.
Manhunt.net: the epitome of everything that’s wrong with the gay community. It’s a terrific combination of awkward, sexual tension and uncomfortable, social interaction. I should be smart enough now to know I shouldn’t logon to the site. But, like a moth to a dirty flame covered in cum (what does that even mean?), I find myself coming back to it.
Let me just be straight (HAR) with you guys and say that I am in a relationship with an extraordinarily, well-built guy. However, he’s moving away to New York City until next year for an internship and we agreed to keep our options open. More for his sake than mine since I find myself making more sexual advances towards my bro friends than gay men. But, when I start feeling insecure about my physical appearance, there’s nothing like a good Manhunt session to bring me back to feeling fresh.
“Looking for an ass to dump your load in?” Sorry, not today, BiGMUSCL69, but I’ll take that as a compliment.
I am not sure if Fratboy is strictly a Manhunt hookup, though. While we initially started our conversation (“Hey what’s up?” “Nm. u?”) on the site, he later told me that he worked around my campus and saw me frequently. “I didn’t know you were gay. You’re lookin real hot, bro” he IMed me one drunken night. “Thanks! You too” was my tequila-induced response.
He admitted to me that he was only bi-curious and wasn’t looking for anything serious. Perfect, I thought, since I’m not looking for anything more than cumming on some dude’s face. It was hard to tell from his pictures if I had seen him around before like he had seen me. But I figured since he was in a fraternity and his main photo showed him playing baseball, he must have a decent body, if not jacked.
Turns out I was wrong.
Maybe this is a good point to also mention that I can be really shallow when it comes to hooking up. But I feel like I have the right to be since I work really hard for my body. I feel like the person I’m with should do the same.
He came over to my apartment around three in the morning after a night of vodka shots and yelling at my friends for not drinking fast enough. The rational side of me wanted to pass out to [adult swim] but the drunk side of me wanted to touch anything 12″ in front of me. He had a bear-like quality to him–I don’t think I’ve ever gotten with someone with so much chest hair–and it was kind of fun to hold onto him but he didn’t know how to suck dick and I had to pee so I knew this wasn’t going anywhere.
He stayed over–I’m not so soulless that I would kick someone out at 4am when he lives on the opposite side of the city–but I made sure to wake up extra early so I didn’t have to make any awkward conversation while I tended to my work and hangover. He texted me later in the day asking if I wanted to get dinner sometime soon.
“My boyfriend’s coming into town this week but maybe next week.” I wrote back. “You have a bf?” He said. “Yeah. I thought I told you that a few weeks ago online.” “Oh. Yeah, maybe”, he replied, “That’s a shame.”
This coming from a guy who told me that he doesn’t mind being fucked by a dude but has no desire to date one.
I owe these mixed signals to Manhunt.
-
RSS FEEDS
-
