test

So all good things must end.

It was fun.  I had a lot of traffic here at one point.  Which gave me another idea… which means I won’t be adding any more posts into this.

It was fun while it lasted n’est-ce pas?  Thanks for reading.  Bye

Size matters?  I frankly don’t care.  As long as it’s not less than three inches (I mean come on less than that how exactly are we supposed to have fun?  although If forced to I guess I can figure something out).

I know all the available porn out there in the free world deifies the hung guys but in reality, you’ll get a mix.  That’s reality.  Don’t be too disappointed though.

As long as it’s proportionate to height, weight, etc etc. I’m happy.  There’s a lot more to sex than just the actual intercourse.

I’ve had very small, small, average, big, horrifyingly big, and the bigger it gets, the more “challenging” it is.  WIth that kind of partner, it’s like you have to meditate two hours before the act to mentally prepare yourself for the ordeal.  Or maybe go to a happy place when you’re doing it (maybe somewhere with rainbows or rolling valleys and stuff).  I dunno.  Whatever.  My point is, it doesn’t really matter.  Whatever I end up with is fine.

I have the best time when men who are sexually confident and who know their pros and cons physically. 

If you’re a guy.  Just be proud to have one.  It’s that simple.  Everyone’ll be happier.  All this taboo fuss is irritating sometimes.

And hey, if you happen to be “supersized” there’s an org called.  Large Penis Support Group.  Click on the link to discuss about it all.  It’s pretty supportive (pun intended).

I think I did.

So.  This is what rejection feels like.  It’s not the most pleasant of experiences, but I think this is a little overrated.  Other than some mild pain in the ego part, that’s all to it.

Cool. No really.  Cool.

You have to understand.  I’m going through this entire process with something like innocence.  I was “happily” tucked away in the safe comforts of being in a relationship for years and it’s just now that I’m going through this “growing up” phase of the gay real life.

Listening to the bitching and complaining of two dozen gay friends in the past had helped.  I mean, you just sort of think about it while listening to them and you can get all the answers you need in this endless quest for the perfect partner.  You have expectations, they have expectations.  Fake it through the first few days, you just play to a fantasy.  Do that and you’ll end up in a relationship that won’t last.

So.  I find it so much better to find that things have ended in as little as two days or so.  Because I’m really not up to the task of sustaining some sort of fantasy role that I have to play as someone’s partner.  I’m comfortable with the concept that I’m just a piece of ass too.  

My requirement?  Just be real, honest, sexy (doesn’t mean you have to look great), and open minded.  And a little crazy.  I don’t have a lot of expectations.  I know that.  And that means more often than not, I’m gonna be the one who gets dismissed.  No shame in that I think.  Besides I like meeting new people.  My curiousity is limitless.  The pros outweighs the cons.  Pride never was an issue for me.

By the way, I changed my mind about the be-single-for-five-years thing.  If it happens.  Great.  If not, fantastic.  Either way I win.

I heard that the police are starting to crack down on those “unnatural” acting men in the streets of Dubai.

I heard that a group of friends got kicked out of their flat because they were probably “offending the family centered sensibilities of their neighbors.”

Can’t help but feel like the inquisition has started all over again.  The burning of the divas instead of the witches.

Is the fact that this is only focused on effeminate men supposed to make me feel better?  No.  Because probably, had I been exposed differently, had it been some other way other than what it was like when I grew up, I may have become effeminate.  What I’m saying is that, there’s no difference.  The expression of this identity may differ among people, but why are some condemned more than others?  Why is there condemnation at all?

The focus is an idealistic goal of making this place a family-centric place where children are brought up in some kind of desert pleasantville.

But that is not reality.  It’s a strictly enforced fantasy (or enforcement of agreed to moral codes).

A friend of mine, a cabin crew guy, nearly got arrested once for “offending families nearby” while in Jumeirah beach.  He gets effeminate sometimes and had started walking around his group of friends pretending to be a model in high heels.  They were dragged all the way to the police station.

Did gay people just pop out of nowhere sans families?  Hey we came from families.  I was raised by parents who spoiled me and sent me to the best schools and was exposed to cultural shit and had the best upbringing my parents could do.  They steered me clear of any of this “unnaturalness” and it didn’t change the fact that I was gay.  So I find this reason of “offensive to families” a candy coated insult.  It gives the insinuation that MY family didn’t raise me right.  That, oh i dunno, I was raised by hedonistic homosexual baboon lovers from some circus who fed me milk and poppers.

Human societies.  Oh what fun.

I love comic books.  Yes.  I’m part geek, part adorable boy, part man-whore.  But yeah, I love comic books.  That’s one addiction I wasn’t able to kick.  My ex, who was my boyfriend for seven years, also loved them.  We had a combined collection of over 20 years worth of comic books in our flat back home.  

And no, I don’t have a fetish for spandex and capes.

There are no comic book stores in Dubai.  So what I’ve done is I’ve subscribed to Marvel.com’s online comics to get in touch with my pre pubescent roots.

Anyway, Here’s a funny panel (to me anyway) I just came across.

How straight men react

Lesson: Some men prefer to accept your admiration from afar.

It’s that time of the year when I’m plagued with all kinds of “mishaps.”  They have a term for this in the office.  They call it Pungis.  Pungi means “ass.”  I dont’ know which language it came from but it has a nice ripe sound to it.  Everyone starts laughing when I say it but it’s one of those filthy words apparently so I only use it when the bosses aren’t around.  But let me fly back to the topic here…

I’m an atheist.  And I’m not superstitious either.  But I do believe in the laws of physics, and that things balance out eventually.  I sure f*cking hope it balances out because I’m tired of problem after problem.

I haven’t posted anything new over the last few days because I’ve been busy stamping out those little fires that keep on popping up everyday.  A lot of frustrating things, really.

This is about my bank.  The rent.  Moving Out.  Teacher Guy.  And my female friend’s romantic life (which I got dragged into).  That bank problem is still a mess, the rent has just increased by 30% (WTF RIGHT?), Teacher guy decided to get off my radar for four days (causing some mild distress), female friend’s romantic life, which is really worthy of a movie at this point, took two interesting twists in the last three days, twists that I was involved in.

I’d like to believe after the “shit hits the fan” there are a whole lot of better things that follow.  So I’ve been girding my loins every day and just tackling anything that comes my way.

This better be worth it.

So.  Life Status as of now.  I sometimes do this to convince myself my life isn’t plunging down into some dark hole.  You feel that way sometimes especially when you start to believe someone cursed you.

RELATIONSHIP: quasi-relationship, open

CURRENT MOOD: chilling every moment I get.  Otherwise tired as hell

CAREER:  pretty good. and overworked.

SOCIAL LIFE: active and stable.

HEALTH: still good. hamdulillah.

GAY SELF ESTEEM: pretty damn good.

I met someone yesterday.  And man, he’s amazing.  He’s a young intellectual, romantic, honest, and adorable.  He speaks impeccable English.

I haven’t broken this stupid vow yet, but let’s see where this leads.  If there’s someone I’d break it for, it would be him I guess.

He’s down to earth and is just fucking intelligent.  We talked about physicists, and djinns, and all sorts of stuff.  No obscure formulas and stuff of course.  Total turn on.

Naturally 20 minutes later we ended up in bed because of that.  (Something about talking excitedly about Stephen Hawkins turns me on).

We also ended up watching grey’s anatomy after the sex and laughing at it.

I really like Dubai now.

Anyway we talked about a lot of things.  Since he was a local I figured this was my chance to really find out things I’ve always wanted to know.  Like what’s underneath the Khandouris (and I like what I found out)?  Or how are things run by the goverment?  Or what the locals did about the internet ban?

Here’s the Guggenheim in Abu Dhabi by Frank Gehry the deconstructionist lover:

Hang on there’s more.  The Louvre is also being constructed.  But you probably know that already.  Abu Dhabi is another emirate close to Dubai.  30 minutes away from where I work in Sheikh Zayed.  Read the full story with architect summaries here.

A big rich city needs a big expensive bridge project going on.  And speaking of Festival City, I remembered these old newspaper images I found sometime ago.  Just thought I’d share.

Gents (and Ladies), the 6th Crossing:

At night

I love Ikea.  I love Ikea stuff.  Everything I own is from Ikea.

You go in their stores and end up buying everything (at least I do).  And no it’s not a cruising place.

There’s a big ass Ikea store in Dubai Festival City.  HUGE.  I could spend hours just getting all sorts of things off the shelves and ending up buying it.  Hangers, pillows, useless little plastic cups, chairs, metal stuff I still don’t know how to use or what it’s for….  And they got interesting names as well.  Something like “Morker,” – name of a lamp. “Fixhult” – name of a sofa.  “Svalbard” – name of the fork.  So I get a kick out of pestering my flatmates by questions on where they put the “Svalbards” cause I can’t find them in the “Takk” (fork tray) 3 a.m. in the morning.  That’s all probably a marketing strategy.  But hey, it works on me.  Anyway check out their site.  click. here for the Ikea Store Dubai Website.  Not sure if you can shop online, but look and find out.

The actual walking around is a little tiring but it doesn’t get any more comfortable than that.  The store layout is great.  The visual design of the store is great.  The catalog is great.  I used to be a graphic designer for environmental graphics so I knew that they really planned it out down to the nuts and bolts of that place.

Why am I talking about Ikea?

I was planning to go there today.  Was about to actually.  I decided on calling Dior guy first and he told me that I better wait till the weekend so he can come with me and we could look for furniture together.

He wouldn’t allow me to bring sheets that didn’t go well with the zen theme of his place so I guess I’ll also have to buy Japanese looking sheet (goodbye blue sheets).