Bitch, Bitch, Whore

I'm both bemused and annoyed to realise that it's practically hump day. Where have the days gone?

I went into work on Monday morning thinking that I'd have a pretty lazy day ahead after a quick stint whipping arse and being a door bitch only to find that I wasn't only covering for one person, but two. Result: a 50-hour work week. I guess it's small potatoes to be complaining about but you see, I'm used to doing not more than thirty-five each week.

Anyway, enough whining. How was your weekend? Mine proved interesting.

The media conference that I attended on Friday blew out to an all day slash nighter event that I can now say with a bit of authority that as exciting as it may first sound, covering entertainment biz is not all that it's cracked up to be. In fact, it can really suck. I won't go on with the ordeal as I've already covered this in detail on my other blog. For those of you in the know, head over there now. The rest who don't... well, I've got something else for you. Keep reading.

The other thing I did on the weekend? My meet up with the 6'3" Air Force hunk. Yep, he's that tall and yes, he's associated with the armed services. The other crucial bit: this really was a meet up and not to be confused with a date.

Believe it or not, as much as I've acted like my blog's namesake in the past, I've never been one to meet potentials purely for sex. Sure, I've had the random casual encounters but these have often been spontaneous occurrences, mostly fueled by alcohol. So, the drinks with the boy on Saturday was a totally new experience.

The initial meet started at a quirky alternative pub 30 minutes away from where we both live. Despite the numerous messages and phone calls we've already exchanged I was still adamant about seeing personally before we did the deed under the sheets. In all fairness, I would feel weird being with a guy who would be willing to do so without first seeing me in person. Is that being too cerebral about something that should really be just plain animalistic?

I guess he sensed my apprehension since one of the first things he said when we finally shook hands was, "So ready to run away yet?". Self-deprecating humour, check. And that wasn't the only thing that got the boxes ticked. He looked as his photos did, he could carry a conversation, and more importantly, he found me yummy. In any case, we didn't stay at the venue long as after a few glasses of Jack's and coke, we were soon doing a combo back to his.

A few more drinks, a bit more chat and then our clothes were off and we were swapping spit. It's unusual for a guy to be so big but to be so gingerly sensitive at the same time. It wasn't mind-blowing sex but it was... nice. Scratch that. It was fucking sensual. Strange but not in the unpleasant kinda way.

But the strangest thing of all actually came from me. Soon as the whole deed was done, I made my excuse to leave. No after-glow cuddling, no sleeping over. It was goodbye, see you later and into car. As I drove into the night, back to the comforts of my own bed, I couldn't help but think that there's a whole new side of me that I'm about to discover.

Weekend To-Do-List

Hi Team,

Just a quick update before the weekend rolls around:

• Off to my first media conference early Friday morning to interview two A-list overseas male celebrities who are here for a concert that I'll also be reviewing and seeing for free later in the day.
  
• Weekend steak dinner with the family to celebrate Mum and Dad's 29th Wedding Anniversary.
• Watching the new Indy flick in Gold Class, courtesy of work's complimentary passes.
• And catching up with a 6'3" Air Force spunk for drinks - and whatever else that may happen. You'd probably remember him. His name is Nate.
  

So yes, as you can see, I'm going to be pretty busy.

See you after the wash-up.

The Day After The Night Before, or Drunk Texting Fallout

From: Nate <+61401555555>
To: Joshua <+61410555555>

Hey. How's the head today. I'm just checking to see that you remember how you offered yourself to me last night?



From: Joshua <+61410555555>
To: Nate <+61401555555>

The pounding's stopped. But need a bit more sleep to feel human again. I have the txt msgs to remind me of last nite, so yes i do remember... embarrassingly.



From: Nate <+61401555555>
To: Joshua <+61410555555>

I didn't mind tho. I wont keep you awake. Just wanted to make sure you weren't regretting calling me.



From: Joshua <+61410555555>
To: Nate <+61401555555>

Not at all... s'long that you don't. Now if only i could remember the whole conversation. Erm so yes, sorry.



From: Nate <+61401555555>
To: Joshua <+61410555555>

Not at all. I'm just spewing i had to say no. Would love to had know what could have happened.



From: Joshua <+61410555555>
To: Nate <+61401555555>

Haha. Yes, that would have been interesting.



From: Nate <+61401555555>
To: Joshua <+61410555555>

Well, here's hoping, hey.



From: Joshua <+61410555555>
To: Nate <+61401555555>

Sure.

Who the fuck is Nate???

Don't Throw Your Supermarket Plastic Bags Away...

...recycle it!

I Did It

It took most of the weekend and half a bottle of Southern Comfort, but I did it. Actually, I drank a bit more of the stuff that my mouth still feels like sarsaparilla overload. Nasty.

Anyway, here it is.

So much effort and stress for 10 cents per word - but fark, I'm loving it!

-----

Commercials, Movies and Relationships

We are a product of the times.

In this day and age of 24/7 consumerism and materialism, round-the-clock communication and constant access, we have become a society much too used to knowing that what we want and when we want it is usually but a click away. Instant gratification delivered straight to the door.

And this modern day affliction seems to have manifested itself in surprising ways.

Pete Burns has recently commented that "gay relationships are a commercial break, not a whole movie."

The bisexual, cross-dressing Dead Or Alive singer observed that when it comes to gay men and their capacity to have any form of long-lasting and meaningful relationships, we are a lot to be lambasted. "The relationships I'm aware of...," he goes on, "it's as though there's some kind of emotional inadequacy or narcissism, where they feel emotionally inadequate and need more validation."

Burns definitely has reasons to be resentful, having split with his husband of 10 months due to infidelity. But forget for a moment that these bitter words are coming from a man scorned. Is he right? Are gay men simply too emotionally-stunted, too self-serving to be capable of being faithful and exclusive? Is the sexual liberty that we enjoy dooming that very thing that we so desperately want?

There seems to be a generally held cynicism within the community at large when it comes to the integrity and durability of gay relationships. That old joke that for every year of a gay relationship equals seven is one that gets plenty of mileage. Why is it that some gay men out there hoping for an Affair To Remember are getting a Sean Cody snippet instead? Do we all have a debilitating short attention span quicker than a New York minute?

I only have to look at my friend and his partner to think otherwise.

"The reason why most relationships don't work – gay or straight – is because the people involved in it don't want to make it work," Scotti explained. "If we gays, no, correction – if we men tried keeping our dicks in our pants and only getting it out for our partners, relationships might just work."

Scotti and Trevor should know. Meeting in their teens, the two have been together for close to ten years. Both have been through plenty; what began as an adolescent kind of romance has developed into something mature and nurturing and still going strong.

"Ours may be an exceptional relationship, but it isn't rare," Trevor continues, "and it still needs the same things now that it did before: trust and respect – and plenty of patience."

So sure, there may be the bit part players out there who are making short stints in the relationship reel, but there are also the enduring stars, like Scotti and Trevor, who are proving that gay relationships can last longer than a flick of Titanic proportions.

After all, it's not in the length of the movie that ultimately dictates its success; it's in the strength of the characters and the parts that they play.

Just don't ask Pete.

Fraud And Fluff

I feel like such a fraud.

For the last two days, I've sat in front of this notebook *trying* very hard to type out my next article for the magazine I write for. Still, I'm yet to come up with anything remotely thought-provoking, entertaining, let alone, coherent for print.

My biggest problem is that I'm really not that opinionated. My laid back and open nature - which I normally think of as one of my strongest trait - doesn't lend itself very well to being an "Opinion" columnist. Whilst the other scribes in the same publication often write about current issues and events, such as gay marriage, legislation changes and human rights issues, in a witty and pointed manner, I'm penning articles on personal experiences and reflections that may not necessarily have any particular relevance to the readers and the community at large.

And so, I feel that not only am I failing to come up with the goods but that I'm increasingly pigeon-holing myself as a writer of no impact or significance. Like the very last piece on a weeknight news broadcast, full of fluff. If so, I'd rather not write at all.

So, now it's Saturday night and for the last two days, I've been trying to come up with something not only worth reading, but something fresh and something new. I don't really want to be digging again into my back-catalogue of blog posts.

There are two topics I've been toying with: the brevity of gay relationships OR scat and dating. Which would you choose?

The column is due Monday, before 9am. Wish me luck.

Holy Shit!

Fletcher Says

Fletcher left for Sydney yesterday. He'd been staying at mine for a whole week while organising his move down south. In all honesty, I couldn't wait for him to go back home. It sounds terribly harsh, but I found living with him very difficult.

I've never met anyone so self-assured at the same time so conflicted with their self-identity as much as Fletcher. He makes this worse by eschewing strong opinions about things that totally contradicts himself. I think that's what I found most frustrating about him: the things that he says. Oh, and the fact that he is a constant name-dropper.

On Dating:
Fletcher: I'd never date an Asian guy. I'm more into the rough, white dudes.
Joshua: Why, what's wrong with Asians?
Fletcher: I dunno. I just want a real guy.
Joshua: Erm, you're Asian, Fletcher, and you're a real guy.
Fletcher: Yeah, but you know what I mean.

On Picking Up:
F: I don't understand why I never get picked up at clubs. It's so frustrating. Maybe it's because I'm Asian. I hate that.
J: Yeah, but didn't you also say that you wouldn't even date your own? So, why are you pissed off?
F: Well, that's different. I'm different.

On Friends:
F: I don't like adding too many Asians on my Facebook friends list. I try to get away from that whole thing.
J: What's wrong with having lots of Asian friends?
F: You know, I want a bit of variety.

On Employment:
F: I work for X Fashion Label on the weekends.
J: That's cool. You design clothes for them?
F: No, I sell their couture.
J: So, it's clothes retail?
F: No, it's Fashion.

On Synergy:
F: I love my soon-to-be housemates. We had this really awesome synergy.
J: Good to hear.
F: Yeah, and they work in the industry, too.
J: What industry?
F: The Fashion industry. They work for Y & Z labels.
J: They design their clothes?
F: No, they sell them.