You Like?...

I had a day of beauty.

First, a 30 minute massage which is just not enough time for me to rid myself of my over-active thinking disorder. I'm lying there naked, for the most part, on an unnaturally soft and unaturally warm table trying my best to focus on the soothing sounds of trickling water and asian chimes. Not happening.... Instead, I found myself concentrated on her every swallow and even the slighest rumble of her stomach. I could practically hear her blink. So pronounced were these sounds that I now envisioned a human perculator. It was about 25 minutes into my massage when my butt finally unclenched only to realize that I now had to pee.

Off to my next body assignment... Nail World. Unlike the aforementioned awkwardness- I love pedicures! My girlfriend hates them only to realize this after I insisted she try it. There are not words to describe that car ride home. Needless to say I now acquire all the Nail World gift certificates given to her by her boss. Not long into my pedicure the lovely nail world lady asked me a question. I don't know why I'm compelled to nod in acknowledgement when I either don't hear or understand someone. Before I knew it there were 2 jars under my nose and I was choosing the scent best suited for my legs. No less than 15 minutes did she rub each leg with the course, smelly goo. Just when I thought she was going to stop rubbing, she would rub and rub some more. Once my legs and feet were suffeciently rubbed per "spa" pedicure standards, she rinsed them and applied a thick eucalyptus mud. She excused herself only to return with steaming hot towels that she wrappped around my muddy legs and feet. Now bound from the knee down - I was left there to enjoy. The longer I sat there, the more intense the sensation she had created beneath the towels. She returned. Knowing that this had been the climax of the experience she asked, "You like?..." I nodded, feeling a little dirty, too afraid to express any more enthusiasm.

listen: manicurist meets poet

Lesbians with Red Drinks

Yes, you know who you are...
You, are why you will find me and my girlfriend out at night with the boys. It is over...no longer will the lesbians spill their drinks on me, jab me in the boob with their elbows, or slam into us on the dance floor. You would expect an "I'm so sorry, excuse me"...some sort of recognition of please forgive me - I'm drunk. Nope. Nothing. So, blame the red drinks, blame the lesbians, blame the booty music, I don't care. Because when we want to spend a night out on the town and be treated like ladies we'll call our true "girlfriends", the gay boys.

Disco Nap

Gay Boys and Lesbians alike will be sharing the dance floor to this one... Word of caution: Stay away from the lesbians with red drinks!!

Lost & Found

stories worth sharing

Kanzi the Bonobo