WORK, HOME, WORK, HOME: When does it end?

Poor Felix. He works with computers all day, then comes home and has to face computer problems here. How many plumbers would like to come home and fix their toilets every day? I know, I wouldn't. How about an auto mechanic coming home and spending his evening under the hood of his wife's car? Not me; I would probably stick a dynamite up it's tailpipe and blow it up. I couldn't handle the constant pressure.

Why am I talking about this? Because today, Felix came home, had supper, watched an hour of TV; then came into my computer room to work on my computer. I had two problems that I had been battling for some time. The stupid back-up program kept faulting oun on certain files that really were not esential to being backed up. All I need to back-up is this blog. ONLY KIDDING.

Then the cute fish bowl screen saver kept messing with the icons and wallpaper on the computer. He knows more about these things than I do. I taught him his basic knowledge of computers many years ago; he took that knowledge and built upon it to make a very good career in the computer industry. Now, Felix knows more about computers than I do. Not a problem. He has half his life to share his knowledge about computers with the world and I will be content to sit back and watch.

Whatever happened the the effort from a number of years ago that was trying to cut the work week to 32 hours? I was all for that; but nothing ever came of it. In fact, many men are working into their late 60s and even 70s now. Is that becasue they need the money? Well, probably is.

I hate seeing Felix go off to work every day. I feel guilty being able to sit at home or even stay in bed; while he trods off to work. Not only does he have to work 8 hours a day; but he drives almost an hour to get there and another hour to get home. It just isn't fair. Why can't he have the winning lottery ticket? He certainly deserves it.

I hope this weekend provides him a couple of gormet meals, enough time to sleep well and the opportunity to get his rocks off a couple of times. From my standpoint, he deserves every bit of it.

Do you know that I love Felix? Well, I do.

Wasted Day?

I have spent over half of my waking hours today reading other people's blogs. Some are very serious and discuss topics that are over my head. Some are quite funny and have caused me to nearly fall out of my chair laughing. I won't give out the names of the blogs that I read; but I will say that YATTA was the bit that caused both Felix and I to break up.

I looked at a lot of gay blogs. How can a blog be gay? I will correct that to say that I looked at a lot of blogs written by gay guys. It is nice to see how the rest of the world thinks once in a while. Since I am couped up in this damn house all day, I like to see what other gay men are thinking and doing. I know they are fucking; but that is not what I mean by "what they are doing". Well, from what I read, not all of them are getting that much sex, either. I guess I am not the only unfortunate out there. At least, they aren't handicapped physically.

Felix and I ate supper at a Chinese Restaurant Tuesday evening. I love their Szechwan Shrimp. I hope I spelled that correctly. Anyway, I love it. The hot seasonings are just right for me. They could even be hotter. Speaking of hot, they have a couple of cute boys serving there, too. Our waiter was sure to keep our glasses filled with Pepsi and he brought me more white rice. This kid was working hard for his tip. I am sure that Felix and I, would like to work on his hard tip, too. That is the hard tip of his hard dick. I don't usually tell of the eye candy I look at; but Felix likes to tell the world about his wondering eyes.

My memoirs are coming along well. I am up to age 20 and telling the all about a young man named Richard. Richard was a nice, skinny and somewhat cute boi who lived a block away from me. He was 3 or 4 years younger than me. I am sure he was abused by his older brothers. He told me that one of them, I don't remember which one, used to fuck him in the ass. I felt sorry for him; because I knew all of his brothers and I knew how "out-of-control" they could get when they were angry or drunk. One of his brothers used to come home drunk almost every night. Booze was a very popular drink, when I was in high school. I am not talking about beer, I am talking about the hard stuff. I don't know how it is today.

Anyway, to make a long story short; Richard is now dead. I think he may have been one of the first cases of AIDS in the United States. His mother told of how Richard was constantly sick during the last few years of his life. He almost kept a doctor in business all by himself. Richard was quite despondant over his illnesses and the inability to recover from them. He finally gave up and threw in the towel. He ended his life by driving his car into Lake Michigan. Cars don't float.

My experience of knowing Richard was a number of years before his death. He was quite a lively kid in high school. Too bad that he took the initiave to end his own life.

Porn, not necessarily.

Have you ever noticed how much time you spend at the keyboard? Do you know what the most looked web sites are? Porn, of course. I hate the word "porn". I don't think of the sites, the pictures I like to view as "porn". I like to look at cute boys with big dicks; but that is not necessarily pornographic. I mean, if that boy were changing clothes in his bedroom, would that be considered pornographic? Of course not.

If that boy were laying on his bed stroking his big hard dick; would that be considered as pornographic? I think porn, just like beauty, is in the mind of the beholder.

Is sex pornographic? Were Adam and Eve pornographic? Did God create porn? NO to each of these questions. Sex is normal. All kinds of sex is normal. The male/female missionary position has been for years considered as the only acceptable method for a married couple to have sex. Nonsense. There are many ways for a couple to enjoy sex. If it makes you hard, happy and horny, go for it. As long as your partner does not object, I see no reason to not do what pleases the two of you.

Is male sex pornographic? You would be surprised at how many people think it is. Why? Because many people think the only way two guys can get it on is by anal intercourse. That turns them off, therefore they think it is porn. Have you any idea at the number of married couples (male/female) who engage in anal intercourse? I know of at least three. The main reason people claim they butt fuck is that there is no way for the female to get pregnant. Duh. When was the last time you overheard a girl telling her mother that she was pregnant; that she was going to have a baby turd? Or, hey mom, I gotta shit. I wonder if it will be a boy or a girl shit?

NO. The reason guys like to butt fuck their ladies is because it feels good. It feels good to the guy and the gal. Do it properly and carefully. That's all.

However, anal sex is not the only way a gay couple has sex. In fact, it is not even the most popular way. Have you ever heard of plain old "frottage"? It works, and it works well. The guys lay together, face to fact, dick to dick and simply fuck. I'll bet most guys didn't even know the word "frottage". Well, now you do. Grab your partner and have at it. It feels good. It is one of the most loving ways for two guys to have sex and express their love for each other. It leaves you face to face with your lover. You can kiss, talk, kiss and kiss some more. Hey, I must tell you that my precious Felix is a wonderful kisser. When he kisses me, I melt. He knows I will do his bidding anytime for a long loving kiss.

Ok, what got me started on this subject. I have just spent 3 or 4 hours reading other gay guy's blogs. Some guys have gotten graphic and some even show full frontal nudity. OK, that may be graphic, it may even offend some people; it is just showing the normal body of a male human in a state of full sexual arousal. That is not pornographic. In fact, some are quite beautiful.

Memoirs

I am in the process of writing my memoirs. An accounting of my sexual exploits from the beginning at age 8, up to the present. Writing about what has happened so long ago is not as easy as it may seem. I am trying to tell the story in cronological order and be as accurate as I can about my feelings, what actually happened and how it happened.

The story begins when I was 7 years old. No, I am not going to publish it here on the blog. That may not be appropriate. Besides, my story is quite graphic and describes male to male sex between boys, yourn goys and teenagers and teens. Later in life it begins to talk about sex between men.

Right now, I am still in my teen years. It will probably be 4 to 6 weeks before I am done. That isn't because I have had that many sexual partners; it is because I want to tell each story in a way that is arousing to the reader. At least, I hope it will be arousing to the reader. I may send it to Nifty and see if they will put it in there list of hot male gay stories. First, and naturally, I will let Felix read it. Somehow, I think he will be bored stiff; but not the kind of stiff I like He has heard most of these stories over the years; some may be new to him; but he knows me well enough to know most of what I have done and how I have done it.

Damn. it sure would be nice to write something that could get him rock hard and ready to fuck. I doubt that I am that good of a writer. I am keeping the stories as close to the real facts as I can remember them. No one gets butt fucked unless they got butt fucked in real life and that bit of information will be kept secret until the stories are read.

I am writing it in chapters, each chapter dealing with a certain age. The chapters are broken into segments that tell the story of a specific person that I have had sex with. Do you think I have had that much sex? Well, not really. My most sexual activity occurred during my high school years. You really can't hold that against me. I didn't know my Felix until 15 years ago. I was long out of high school when that happened.

Yes, I will recount some of our sexual experiences in my memoirs. I will tell about our first sex in Chicago, our sex during out Tennessee trip (ooh, that one makes my mouth water. I wish we had saved the movies we made of ourselves); and I will tell about our sex at home.

No details will be held back. Now, ask me why I am telling all. I really don't know, I just felt like telling the story of my sex life. I have done a lot of fucking and I am proud of every bit of it, from my first sex with my 16-year old male sitter, through my fucking the guys in high school, up to my love of my precious life partner and soul mate, Felix.

Watch for it in your neighborhood pornographic bookstore. Yeah, right.

Good Food, Good Wine and Thou

Another day, another nickel. Well, not really. Today was Easter and we had baked ham and a roast Turkey breast, with potato salad and Cole Slaw. It was good, even if I do have to say so myself. After all, I did the cooking; so I should know.

Sugar buns and I, Felix and Oscar, got it on this afternoon and I know he enjoyed it because he rose to the occasion. That made a very good day for me. I fixed him a good meal and then he gave me a good meal. Good food and good sex, what more can a person ask for?

Yesterday and today, I went through some old photographs I had taken on past vacations Felix and I have been on. There were some pictures of Branson, Missouri, the shows there and the train ride that goes through the Ozark Mountains of Missouri and Arkansas. Those were much better days for me. I even had a picture of the log flume ride at Si8lver Dollar City where Felix did his now famous “Oh Shit” yell. You see, we were on this ride going around a log chute and Felix had never seen it before. He had no idea of what was going to happen. We got to the end of the chute and the log began to go up this incline. He still didn’t guess what was coming until we reached the top of the incline and the log tipped forward and we went down the flume. Right at the top, he realized what was going to happen. He gave out with the loudest yell, “OH SHIT”. Down the flume we went, right into a large pond of water. There were two Catholic nuns standing at the bottom, in the observation area. I laughed so hard I nearly fell out of the log. Needless to say, we both were drenched when we got off the ride.

I culled out some pics for him to scan and give back to me in digital form. I will use some for screen savers on my computer. Those are memories I never want to forget. Those were some of the best times of my life. I, also, had pics of some motels we have stayed in on various trips. We took pictures of each room and bed. Proof positive that we. . … well, they don’t show anyone naked, so I guess the conclusion is still open. Only Felix and I know the truth. Want to see the big smile on our faces? We have pictures of everything but the toys we bought in Nashville. Hey, that town has some very large stores that deal in sex toys. We spent quite a few bucks in one. and we have yielded a lot of pleasure from that expenditure.

For those that don’t know; a guy can get a lot of pleasure from the use of a dildo in the butt. If you are stuck home alone, just whip out the dildo and stick it in. As the anal sphincter closes tightly on the dildo, the penile sphincter closes even more and pushes more blood into your dick. In other words, you get a harder and bigger dick. And the ejaculation will be stronger. At least, it has been for us. That is something else that I miss greatly.

The one picture that I have always wanted; but do not have is when Felix and I stay at the Hilton in Springfield, Illinois. We usually get a room on the 19^th or 20^th floor. The first thing Felix used to do was run over to the large floor to ceiling window, drop his pants and moon Springfield. No one ever sees him; but he does it anyway. Why? Just to be able to say that he did it. Why else?

OK, we have had a lot of fun and kinky times. That is part of what makes our relationship so special. We love each other, and we love to do things together. Yep, that does or did include things in bed. Now, I do the best I can to bring those feelings back to him. I hope this summer will bring us the opportunity to go places and do some of those things again.

Felix, I love you with all my heart. God has brought you into my life and I owe Him many thanks for that present He gave me. I owe you so much, too. I love you.

How now, Brown Cow?

I feel like I have been put through the mill a couple of hundred times. I have run out of energy and the desire to continue. Last night my darling and I had a long discussion about my bouts of depression and fear to continue. I worry about losing him and he continues to assure me that he will not leave unless I drive him off with a club. I am not about to do that. I love him more than words can tell.

My doubts and fears are unnatural. He says he loves me as much as ever. I love him the same. In fact, I think I love him more than I have ever loved him. I know that I need him more than ever. I need him in many ways. Sexual need is only a small part of my need for my Felix. It is very difficult for me to allow him to make mistakes; but that is what he wants to do. He does not want to be led around by me and shown which way to turn, to think, to act. I understand that; but it is difficult for me to see him make mistakes. After all, I made a promise to him, about 15 years ago, to love, to honor and to cherish him in every way. Every way. I know what that means to me; but I can’t let my way dictate to him his every move.

I have not worked at his place of employment and admit I do not know the people he works with. I have worked with people like he works with; but not the same people. I know how people do take advantage of others. I try to encourage him to not let the ones he works with, take advantage of him. I want the best for him. I want him to have a better life than I had. I would rather die than see him come down with disease and afflictions as I have. Of course, there isn’t a damn thing that I can do to prevent that.

Today we had a pretty good day. We kept busy shopping for groceries for ourselves and the pets. He bought a new kitchen gadget for me. I keep reminding him that he shouldn’t spend his money like that; but he keeps on doing it. I am worried that he will wind up in debt up to his little short hair on top of his cute little head. No, the one on his shoulders; he hasn’t got hair on the little head. I know, I have seen it up close. We had a good meal out and we had fun today. That means a lot to me. I am feeling older, with this retirement and problems of recovering from the stroke. My days are not long enough. My nights are not long enough. What does this mean?

Am I trying to cram too much into too little time? Am I going nuts? Lately I have been talking about past experiences that we have had. I looked through a pile of photos that we took on vacations over the last 14 years; they mean a lot to me. I showed them to Felix and he didn’t get as much a kick out of them as I did. I know he has a lot on his mind. Last night he told me that he worries a lot about me. I worry a lot about him, so I guess we are even on that. My health is not the best; but I have no intention of kicking the bucket anyway soon. In fact, I am going to see the doctor about these times of depression that I have been having. I want to be my old self, I want to have fun like I used to. Well, you already know I want to fuck like I used to; but that isn’t going to happen.

I have thought about having a penile implant to take care of the erection problem. They took out the little valve that holds the blood in my penis. The only way I can get a hard-on is by way of a penile implant. I am worried about that because I am afraid of undergoing another surgery. I don’t know if it can be done under a local anesthetic or not; but I would be much more comfortable if it could. Now, I also would like to have a new asshole; but there is no way that can be done. I am not aware that anyone has ever done that. If it could be done, it would be a major breakthrough for rectal cancer patients. I am not willing to be the guinea pig for that one.

I am feeling better right now than I have in days. I will close this post and promise to give you readers, yeah, right, more information tomorrow. If anyone besides Felix were to read this, I would be in for a major surprise. BTW, I am not intending to write a how-to lesson in masturbation. I am just writing my experiences to get them off my chest. It helps to talk about some past experiences.

Going down for the last time.

Sometimes I really do not know how to act. I know what I want and so does he; but what I want is not forthcoming. Have you ever been stuck in one of those situations. You want the gold Bulova watch the person who is in charge of buying your watch wants to buy a Timex. Well if you know what is good for you, you take the Timex and shut up.

I am stuck in one of those situations. He knows what I want; but he doesn’t want to give it to me. I do not understand why. If I am that unappealing, why not just tell me so and move on? Find someone who trips your trigger big time. I know we have a somewhat unique situation here. I provide a roof over his head, food for his mouth and other things. Now, don’t misunderstand, he does contribute a lot; but without me, he would be living in very different surroundings. Well, that is, unless he could find someone else that would do what I have done.

I am quite aware that there are other people who would love to fill the bill for him. That is what upsets me so. I am not a “prime catch”. My days at that are over. Maybe I need to accept that and just forget about living this life. Maybe I need to move into the next phase of my life. I don’t want to. Don’t my feelings here matter at all? Am I still talking loud enough to be heard?

I can’t do this, I can’t do that, I am not wanted for this or that. What the hell use am I good for. Who the fuck needs me. I said, WHO THE FUCK NEEDS ME. Does anyone NEED me. I don’t want to be passed over, set aside, made a piece of furniture; I want to be accepted as a person, with the same needs and wants as everybody else. There is nothing else I can say on this subject. Everything that needs to be said, has been said right here.

Another sleepless night

This stupid blogger wouldn't take my post. I am ready to throw up my hands and quit.

What to do, What to do

Ever have one of those days when nothing you do is satisfying? No matter what you eat, no matter where you go, who you talk to; no matter WHAT, you are bored. Well, most of my days are like that. I am retired and I wish I wasn't. The retirement wasn't exactly my idea, I was forced out because of my health.

Don't get me wrong, I admit that working was beginning to be more than I could do. My employer wanted a 40 hour work week and I had gotten to the point that I just couldn't do it. Ok, I am now home, considered as disabled and I really don't want to be. My mind says I should be out there doing something productive. Something to make money. Isn't that why we work in the first place? We go where the money is. I made decent money while I worked, I am comfortable in retirement; but I am not satisfied. Money isn't everything.

I agree, money isn't everything and it can't buy happiness, health, satisfaction, can't eliminate desire and many other things. It can help, only help, to provide comfort. Tonight we ate out, Felix the neatnik and I, Oscar the grouch. I had my first whole lobster. It was delicious. I have had many lobster tails; but never had eaten the claw meat. Man, that is the best part of the lobster. Yep, a two pound lobster did cost a bit; but it was worth it. That is, if you are trying to drown your sorrows in food, which is what I did. I know I shouldn't eat like that; but eating is about the only pleasure that I can partake of on a regular basis.

As I have said here before, when I was a teenager, I pulled my pud 5 times a day. Actually, I am telling you the truth. I jacked off once before school, usually went home for lunch and did it again. My mom worked, so I had the home to myself until about 4:45 PM each day. I got out of school at 3:00 PM, and got home by 3:10. It didn't take me long to shuck my clothes and whack off, either on the couch or in my bedroom. By 3:30 I was all done and ready for thenext session. Once again about 4:15 and then at bedtime I had a long delayed session in bed.

OK, now you got the basics of what I USED to do. I would do it again, if my body allowed me to. Since the cancer surgery, I can't. So what do I do in place of sex? EAT, of course. I eat a small breakfast, usually a piece of pastry, then drink a couple of sodas or diet iced teas during the day. I eat a large supper and snack the rest of the evening, as well as drink a couple more sodas. You add the calories; about twice what I should have. Because of my health, I am unable to do much exercize besides walk to the kitchen and back. I do nothing but gain weight.

That is the reason I want to make the weekends count more. I understand Felix has been working 5 days a week and drives a round trip of 90 miles every day. He wants to stay at home and relax, maybe even sleep all morning on both Saturday and Sunday. Hey, I completely understand that desire. I used to have the same desires. Now, I don't know how to reconcile our wants. I try not to be pushy; because I really don't have any special place to go or something to do. I wish I did. It is unfair to ask him to go riding around the coutryside with me looking at the same old things we both have seen a hundred times over.

We have to go grocery shopping for us and for the animals every weekend. If you throw in a shopping trip to Target, Home Depot or Sears once in a while, that should be enough to get me out of the house. Only problem is that I want to do something special. Now, all I need is for someone to tell me what that is. Until then, I will be as accomodating to my little neatnik as I can and let him sleep or vegetate as he wishes.

Who Do You Trust?

This is my sencond post for the day. Who do you trust? Or do you fully trust anyone? I worked with many men and just like women, men talk about families and even their intimate lives. My divorce was common knowledge among the people I worked with. Hell, they saw the tears in my eyes as my marriage was falling apart. They knew and they understood my feelings.

I worked with men who were on their second or even third marriages. I worked with men who were in the middle of going through the same thing I was. I remember one man, a supervisor friend of mine, who sat down at a table and sobbed that his wife was found in bed with his best friend. Yeah, the man who was supposed to be his best friend. This had to be a double hurt. Sorry folks, I do not understand how a man can betray another man like this.

Slowly I began to seek out how other men felt about theri wives. Did they trust them? One man, a very good friend of mine said that he did not have complete 100% trust of anyone. I can understand that; but I don't want to be like that. This fella said that he always kept an eye out for the kind of people they associated with. He liked to keep his group of friends small and be relatives. He liked to associate with relatives rather than other friends outside his and her families. He felt more secure. Security is what it is all about, you know. In order to be happy in life, we must feel secure in our surroundings.

This one fellow kept his income secret from his wife. He never allowed her to cash the paycheck, as I used to allow mine to do. She worked and her money had to be contributed to the running of the household, just as his was. They had three checking accounts, his, hers and theirs. He kept his account for his interests and she kept her account for her interests. Yes, she did take a vacation without him; but she was with her sister all the time. They drove together, got a room together, visited relatives together and he felt secure that he could knew what she was doing and was safe. He kepts tabs on her without her feeling that she was checking in with him every minute of the day.

To make a long story short, he felt secure in knowing what and where she was up to. I think everyone needs to feel secure that they know where their soul mate is and what they are doing is safe. Wives worry about their husband the policeman, the fireman, the military man, etc. They want to know that their mate will come home safely and in one piece. They want to know that their mate will come home to them wanting them just as much as when they were first married. They want to keep the sex fire alive in their relationship. That fire, to often, is allowed to die to a very small spark, not a raging fire. We all want our sex lives to be a raging fire. A fire that burns hot and bright until the day we die. No matter what we look like, we hope that our mate still loves us as much as ever and wants us, sexually, as much as ever.

When that fire begins to die, the relationship begins to die. One person begins to look for other sources to kindle the flame. You see, we all need sex. Whether it is masturbation or intercourse, hetro or homo; we all need sex. Sex is the driving force in our bodies, in our lives. Without it we are just a robot, moving about without ever achieving satisfaction. We go through the motions; but never achieve our goal. We all want to love someone and to be loved by tht someone.

Who do you love?

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

I am going to admit something that I don't think even Felix knows about me. Anyone who has read my posts from the very beginning knows that I had one failed marriage before finding the love of my life, Felix.

This goes way back in my life. I can remember coming home from school and not finding my mother in the basement doing ironing as she did almost 365 days a year. I looked upstairs, no mom. I went up to the bedrooms and bathroom; but still no mom. This was unlike my mother to not be home when I got home. Without a father, I depended on my mother for everything. I couldn't find my mother; where was she? I went next door and asked Ralph's mother if she knew where my mom was. No avail, no information. I was in a panic, I cried so loudly that everyone in the neighborhood knew, I screamed for my mommie. Now, remember, I was about 7 or 8 years. My help mate, the only person in the world that mattered to me, my mother was nowhere to be found.

After a minute or two, mom came running up to me wondering what was wrong; why was I crying so loudly, what had happened to me. I began to sob out my story that I couldn't find her and thought someone had kidnapped her. I was afraid to be alone in the world. Yep, that was my fear, that is what I was so afraid of; being alone.

Now, Felix, you may understand why I want to know where you are, what you are doing when I can not see you. I am always asking you for an accounting of your time because I couldn't find my mother. Does this make sense to you? I am writing this for everyone to read; because I know my Felix reads this and I want him to know this about me. I really don't care who else knows this, it is true and it is one of my character faults. I am afraid of being alone in life.

My marriage failed, because I tried to keep a close watch on my wife. I wanted to know where she was each and every minute of the day. She perceived this as my being abusive to her. Well, I guess that is one of her faults, I can forgive her just as I hope she has forgiven me. Well, I doubt that she has done that, and I guess I don't blame her as she had problems as a child and I am sure they carried over into her adult life just as mine did. We are a product of our environment and our childhood experiences help shape our adulthood. Whatever happened back then, no matter how many years ago that was, will always be with us and haunt us.

Many people allow those things to happen in our lives. Abused children become the abusers in adult life. I pray that chain is broken for everyone; however, from my own experience in having the fear of being alone, I can see how very difficult it is to break any chain in our lifes.

I was married for over 20 years and thought I had found my life's mate. I knew, after about 4 years that I had not. She had a mind of her own, she wanted to have friends of her own that did not have to meet my standards of apporval. We argued, we fought; the bottom line is that I was afraid of losing her to someone else. Well, after so many years, I did loose her to someone else. She grew out of love with me and fell in love with someone else. My reaction was as most people would expect, I was deeply hurt to think that she would turn on me like that. She wrote a letter, that I keep to this day. In it she said that she had hoped that we could remain friends. I so much wish that had happened. I probably would not be so afraid of losing Felix to someone else. Maybe I would understand how someone can look around at "eye candy"; but still go home to their soul mate for comfort.

As a man, I need to provide that comfort. That is part of my makeup. I need to know that someone needs me. Someone needs me to be their "knight in shining armor". OK, so I am not a knight in shining armor; but I want to be. I want to be that for someone. No one wants to be alone. No one, no matter who or in what condition, wants to be cast aside for someone else. I have had that happen to me once in life. It took me years to get over it and to begin to love again. I do not want, nor do I think I could live through it happening again.

SEX, how much do you need?

How much sex activity keeps you satisfied? Of course, that depends on your age. When I was a teenager I needed to jack off 5 times a day. When I turned 21 and had a regular job the sexual activity slowed down because of time constraints. Twice a day was enough. As I got older, the daily need turned into a weekly need, three times a week was enough. Sleep became more important.

My partner is battling his sexual needs right now. I am not able to satisfy him like I used to because of my physical condition; but then, he won't come to me and ask for sex as often as I wish he would, and that contributes to tense feelings between the two of us. I don't know if I am that bad at oral sex; but he just doesn't seem to want me to do it to him. Yet he fantasizes about other guys at work and seems to want to get in their pants.

This reminds me of a song that came out after the Vietnam war. I don't remember who recorded it; but I think the title was, "Ruby, don't take your love to town". It is about a guy who comes home from battle, all shot up, and is unable to fulfill his sexual obligations as a husband so his whore of a wife goes to the neighborhood tavern and drinks with guys and then goes home with different ones for sex. She shows up in the early morning hours and doesn't even try to hide what she has done. The bitch doesn't even have the guts to divorce her crippled up husband. That song used to make me very mad and partly contributed to my feelings toward some women who whore around on their husbands.

I can only imagine the anger, the hurt, the complete utter despair that man felt. I realize it was only a song; but I am very sure things like that did happen in real life. Somewhere, sometime, things like that do happen. I, personally, know of a lady who had her spine broken in an auto accident. Her, and her husbands lives changed in the twinkling of an eye. She was hospitalized for nearly two years and had more than one instance where she came very close to death. When they airlifted her from one hospital to another, her lungs collapsed in the helicopter. She lives in a wheel chair. She is unable to know, in advance, when her bowels want to move. She has no feeling below the waist. She finally went back to work to keep from going crazy in the house. She takes an enema every morning to prevent an accident at work. Her husband's sex life changed completely. She no longer is able to fulfill his desires in bed. However, I guess they have figured out other ways to satisfy that desire. They are still married.

I know one other man, whose wife has now died; but she was bedfast for the last 10 or 12 years of their marriage. I don't know what her problem was; but she could not have sex with him, either. He found a girl friend; you can translate that as concubine, and his wife had full knowledge of the affair. He said he still loved his wife; but he fucked his girlfriend whenever he wanted sex. Is that love? You tell me. Could you life with your husband/wife/partner knowing they are going outside the relationship for sex? I really don't think I could.

Yet, I love my Felix the neatnik. I want him to be sexually satisfied. I will do anythign he asks; but he won't come to me and ask. I am ready to satisfy his every fantasy, if only he would ask. I welcome any comments from anyone. I really would like to know what others think about this.

My little Felix sure loves that water hose. And that is the end of that. If I talk about the subject any more he will get all puffed up and mad at me. But that would be normal for him, he gets mad at me at least once a day. In his defense, I must say that I loved that water hose too. To me it felt very good, even arousing. Only Felix knows what I really mean by that. The rest of the world can only guess.

I am glad we are coming up on a long weekend because I am going stir crazy in this house. I really need to get out of the house and go somewhere different. Maybe out for a good supper at a new restaurant, maybe for a nice night's stay at a nice hotel or motel. I really don't know exactly what I want, I just know that I need to get out of the house and do something different.

There was a day when I would say lets go to a dance club and look at all the nice hot boys. Now, all I can do is look and remember what it used to be like. I sure do wish I could partake of the action. There are a number of reasons why that doesn't happen any more. I will not bore you with the details.

I had a dream lsst night that I was back in school. The surroundings were as though it was junior high school and the teacher was the same hoom room teacher I had back then. What did not fit in place is that I was 47 years old. I even remember some of the students with me were those that I had been in Jr. HS with. Talk about odd. I have no idea what the whole dream was all about, why I was back in school or if it meant anything pertaining to today. I woke up late, about 3 hours late. It was raining outside (as if it was raining inside). The whole things sticks in my mind and I keep wondering what the dream meant. Some folks say that our dreams are supposed to mean something relevant to our life today. I can't figure out what this one was supposed to mean, or if it was supposed to mean anything at all.

I told my little fire hose boy about it at lunch and in talking about his workday, he used one of the words that referenced my dream. Now, that was really weird. Why would he use the word "Mesopotamia"? My dream had a sequence about Old World History and the Mesopotamia Region of the World.

I may post more on this subject later, if something new comes up. Until then, bye bye for now.

Bedtime is not always cozy.

Have you ever tried to put a fitted sheet on a king size bed? I have, and it isn't as easy as it seems. A fitted sheet and king size mattress is almost a square; but not quite. The width varies only a couple of inches from the length. So how can you tell which is which on the sheet? Trial and error? That is the method usually used by my partner and I. We have a 50% chance of being right, or to look at it from the other way, we have a 50% chance of being wrong. We usually get it wrong. Result, the damn sheet pops loose at the corners within a couple of days.

Now, put the flat sheet, electric blanket or plain blanket and comforter on the bed. Do you start from the bottom or the top in trying to get them lined up? I try to start from the top and line up all the covers evenly. Then lay them smoothly until the bottom hangs off the bed. Sound easy? Sound correct? Well then, why are they all mussed up and uneven within a few days. The middle blanket always seems to migrate down lower from the comforter and the sheet always seems to be pulled up higher than the other two. No matter how you look at it, the middle blanket is always about 3 inches shorter than the other two.

Does your bed have these problems? Mine does, no matter who makes up the bed. No matter how carefully we put the covers, sheets and blankets in place; they will be out of place within three nights. I would like to get a decent sleep every night; but with covers that keep migrating up and down like mine; I usually wake up about 4 AM trying to cover up with just one cover.

I like the temperature in my bedroom to be about 69 degrees F. To wake up at 4 AM with my back uncovered is quite a discomvort. I like the bed to be warm, the air to be cold or cool. I can breathe much easier with icecycles on my nose. I sleep with a CPAP machine and sleep much easier and have a deeper sleep; but I still need my covers to stay in line. Now, if I get in a little sex before I try to fall aseep, I promise you that I will sleep better. That always helps me sleep.

Ding Dong, the Bitch is Dead.

Bitch, bitch, bitch. All I do is bitch. Now the fucking Internet cable connection doesn’t work. This happened last Sunday night. I wonder if the friggin cable company knows what the hell they are doing? They are quick to take our money, they sure as hell know how to do that; but they can’t seem to keep the fucking connection going for seven days in a row. It’s up, it’s down. The damn connection goes up and down more than my dick.

I think public utilities need to be more reliable. After all, people depend on electricity to run breathing machines, to have lights in the dark, to hold a thermocouple open for gas to heat your home and much much more. Are you aware that your good old phone company does not depend upon your electric company to power the telephones. Nope, they have large batteries, nearly the size of a small automobile, to keep the telephone voice network powered in case the electricity fails. Even you and I have Uninterruptible Power Supplies to keep our computers powered in case of a failure in the electric grid. This allows us to complete our task or reach a shutdown point so our data isn’t lost.

Of course, that doesn’t do a damn bit of good when the cable line gets cut or their mail server goes south. Redundancy; redundancy is what they need. Do they have it? Of course not. That would cost a bit more. They would have to invest a couple of thousand bucks more to keep the system running. In my opinion, they don’t give a shit about providing a service to you and I. Don’t they make enough money? I won’t even address that bit of farce. You do the math for yourself.

All the cable company has to do is hire decent people, pay a livable wage, string the cable wires properly and provide reliable equipment at the head end of the system. Is that so damn hard to do? For some cable companies, I guess it is. I know a couple of cable installers in this area who are lucky to make $12 to $14 an hour. That is slave labor. Yeah, really it is. Why is it that the head of GM gets to sit on his ass, attend a couple of meetings and delegate authority for decisions to underlings; but still get $25,000,000 a year? That’s twenty-five MILLION bucks. For what? He hires other people to make the real decisions for him. I am sorry, no one EARNS that kind of remuneration. In fact, no one is worth that.

Well, besides that, is that little box on wheels that you drive worth the money you paid for it? Probably not; but how else can GM afford to give the big shot 25 mil. Someone has to get ripped off. It is you and I. And we didn’t even get kissed.

You have the wrong number, asshole

Do you have a telephone? Are you happy receiving all the telemarketing calls? If I could, I would shoot them. Yesterday, I got about 8 calls from “unknown name, unknown number”. Now, if the stupid ass doesn’t want me to know who the fuck he is, why is he/she calling me in the first place? If I could, I would have the damn wired telephone disconnected and live without the son of a bitch. However, there are times when I need a telephone. I am paying the damn bill, why isn’t the phone for my convenience? Why do I have to talk to people I don’t know and don’t want to talk to?

Get the idea? My phone bill is $35 bucks: $25 for service and $10 bucks for tax. That’s what I said, $10 bucks for tax. I have to pay for those who need a phone but can’t afford one. Why? I have to pay for my fucking phone; why can’t they pay for theirs? You say they don’t have enough money? Well, tough shit. When I was a kid we didn’t have a phone because we couldn’t afford one. We lived. So can those who I have to pay a surcharge for. Sorry folks, I do not have that much sympathy for them. Everybody wants something for nothing. I pay my way, so let them pay theirs. If not, fuck ‘em.

Telephones are a very sore spot with me. I get woke up in the middle of the night by some drunk who can’t see to dial his own phone number, so he bothers me. Bull shit. I get woke up at 9 AM on Saturday morning by some teenager who is trying to sell me siding for my brick house. Fuck her, too. Have they ever stopped to figure out that if I want new siding, I will call them? If I want new windows, I will call them. If I need new insurance or a new mortgage, I am not so damn fucking stupid that I can’t look in the phone book and call the proper agency or office.

The National “Do Not Call” list? Yeah, right. Hey, I got some land about 10 miles offshore that I want to sell; are you interested? That whole idea is a farce. Our lawmakers deemed that list to be unconstitutional. The telemarketers can’t make a living if we don’t allow them to pester the fuck out of us on Saturday morning when we are trying to get a couple of extra hours of sleep. Big business is doing their damnedest to try to block that list.

I have thought of just getting rid of the wired telephone and keeping my cell phone. The only problem with that is the fucking telemarketers will eventually get that number, too. Then I not only am pestered with their fucking shit telephone calls, I have to pay for the privilege of being pestered. Alexander Graham Bell, drop dead. Oh, you say he is already dead; good riddance.

When all is done, then what do we do?

Some days are better than others. Today didn’t start out to be that great; but as the day wore on, I began to feel a bit better. Late nite TV is more interesting than the crappy soaps and game shows that are on during the day. Problem is that I stay up and watch the History Channel, and others way too late. Last night I was up till 2 am watching the History Channel. I pay for that every morning with a dizzy head. Today, was no exception.

After I took a shower, I felt better. Then I had to hurry to change the colostomy appliance and I got dizzy again. Right in the middle of the procedure. What a fucking bad time to get dizzy or sick. Luckily it cleared up and I was able to get the procedure finished without falling over or making a mess. Then my partner, Felix the neatnik, came home and we trotted out for supper. He had the honor of buying me a steak at a local Italian restaurant. They do fix some pretty good grub there. We came home and he is sleeping his food off, or is it just going to his waistline, I dunno.

Here I sit on my fat tush writing a note for my blog, wondering what we are going to do for the rest of the night. I know we have to go shopping in the morning. He needs a new chair for his cute tush to plop in at his place of employment, and I could use one for my big fat ass to sit in to replace the one I am presently sitting in. My present chair is ready to fall apart because I have plopped my fat ass in mine for too long. I guess I need a very heavy-duty chair to hold my 300+ pounds. That will probably cost me very heavy-duty monies, too.

I wish I weighed about half of what I do weigh. Life would be easier to handle. My weight contributes to a lot of my discomfort; but not to the real underlying cause of my frustrations. The underlying cause is the stroke and the cancer; those things I am stuck with, and I think that is why I eat too fucking much. If only the clock could be turned back about 10 years; but with the good benefits I have today. We all wish that, I am sure. I think everyone would like to retain his or her youth; but have the wisdom of old age. I hate growing old. It sucks. Golden years, my ass.

Now, what do I do for the rest of the evening? Watch the boob tube? If only there were something interesting to watch. The interesting stuff doesn’t start till about midnight. Piddle on the computer? Is that what they call a computer whiz? LOL. That gets dull quickly. There is only so much you can get out of a rousing game of Solitaire. Look at pictures of nice naked guys? Hell, if you have seen one big dick, you have seen them all. I would prefer to see my loving partner naked, maybe then we could think of something a bit more interesting. How about talking on the radio? I have a question; talk about what? I hear some old guys on there talking about things that old men talk about. Shit, I am not ready for that. Lets keep the conversation more lively.

Well, I must pick one. See ya later, if I con’t bore myself to death.

Disconnected thoughts and good sex.

Felix wrote that I was a slob even before the stroke. I will admit to that; but I always wanted to be a neatnik. It is very hard to be a neatnik when you have to work for a living, come home fix supper, so the dishes and clean the fucking house all in one evening. Restaurants do help; but they get to be expensive. I can only stand Mickey D’s place once a month or so; I need a good sit down meal at a restaurant where they serve the food to me, not make me stand in line for a handout.

Lately, I have been having a series of misfortunate incidents. This goes bad, then that goes bad; or something else needs to be repaired or replaced. It seems the money is scheduled to go out even before it comes in. I think I need a vacation from all this. I sure would like to go somewhere this weekend that would take my mind off all the problems and bad experiences. Now, all I need is for someone to tell me where that is. I think I have almost done it all and been everywhere. I know that is not true; but I really have difficulty in thinking of something new. My mind is overwhelmed with the small problems at home.

I just had to ship off a piece of equipment to the repair shop for adjustment and reprogramming. The actual service may be cheap; but the shipping charges are what kills me. I really think I will have more involved in shipping charges than will be involved in the actual service. The latest electronic equipment has so many bells and whistles on them that it takes a programmer to know how to operate the damn things. Press button A and button one and you get one function. Press button A alone and you get another function. Now press button B and button 1 and something else happens. Damn, I am an old timer in electronics; but this new stuff is making me feel like a beginner. And that feeling, at my age, just makes me look silly or worse.

One nice thing just happened a few minutes ago. Felix, my lover, came to show me his new underwear that he thought to be a bit skimpy. After I felt of that projection in the front of his shorts, he really didn’t want to wear underwear at all. We had a very nice time, well, his was a bit better than mine; but I still enjoy sex with him even if I don’t have the opportunity to shoot a fountain of joy juice.

Is this a bunch of disconnected thoughts. Well, so what? Who says my mind operates in a prescribed fashion. I think, so I write, right? More to come. Lots more to cum, all he needs to do is keep those shorts off.

Try, Try again

Blogging has its pains, too. I tried two times to write a post and the stupid blogging program lost it before it got posted. Why? I understand there are hundreds of thousands of folks out there who write these things. Are they all experiencing these problems? Is that why so many blogs are there; but not active? Probably due to something like this.

I was going to write a post about Felix Ungar and Oscar Madison. You know, the Odd Couple. My partner and I are just like that. He is the Felix character. He is a neatnik. He has called me a slob. I don’t think that is a very nice thing to say, do you? I will admit that I am not one of the neatest persons; but I do have an excuse; the stroke has left me unable to bend over quickly. In fact, if I move my head quickly, I will become very dizzy. I move slowly. I can’t keep my radio room-computer room as neat as I would like. I get so damn much mail, magazines, etc that I have no place to put them. They pile up on the floor, in piles. I try to keep them in neat piles; but here come the cats or Felix who will push things aside so he can get through. Then, the next thing you know, the piles become a very large mess all over the floor.

In fact, yesterday he came in from work and had to make a mad rush to the bathroom. The next thing I knew I was looking at his naked ass going into my room with his pants around his ankles. He was heading for my closet to get toilet paper. Why doesn’t he keep a few spare rolls of the stuff in his bathroom? He threw some milk crates that were sitting in front of the closet doors across the room, making a larger mess than at first. If you ask me, he needs to learn to control his temper. There is no need to throw things around, no matter what your reason. If I were to go into his bedroom and move things, I catch all sorts of hell when he gets home. I can barely sit in his damn chair without hearing about it. Either the chair was moved, the TV was on the wrong channel or he sees my soda glass sitting on a coaster, that I forgot to remove. Anyway, I hear about it.

OK, I know all quuers are supposed to be neatniks; but that is not the real world. There are just as many of us that are not neatniks. Many of us blend in with Mr. and Mrs. Average Joe. What is so wrong with being yourself in your own home? Why does he come home, almost every night, in a bad mood? Does he need to find a new job or should he go into his workplace and shoot those who are irritating him? I don’t advocate that kind of behavior; but I wish he could do something to control his frustrations.

I used to use sex to get out my frustrations. A good wank usually solved my problem. I felt happy, got in a little nap, and all was well with the world. Shit, I am always ready to help him in that area, if only he would come and ask me.

Maybe I will feel more like being civil later. Ta ta for now.

errors

I have writen three posts that this fucking system does not post. They get lost somewhere in cyberspace. Right now, my font, and all settings are lost. fuck it. It just isn't worth the frustration.

Life is so damn confusing

As anyone who reads this blog knows, I am on AOL under this screen name and one other which is used as my main screen name. My partner is on AOL with only one screen name. Sometimes I wish I had never heard of the damn computer.

My partner was trying to buy filters for the air freshener machine in his bedroom this afternoon. He had to visit two home supply stores just to find the stupid filters (both should have carried them). When he found them in the second store; one fucking filter was more than half the price of the whole stupid machine. He threw up his arms and bought a new machine. Just two filters would have cost more than the whole new machine. What kind of product is that, when the replacement parts cost that much? Sounds like the American auto industry, doesn't it? Have you ever looked into the cost of repair parts for your auto? Don't.

A Nonnie Moose commented on my blog of this morning and said that I should hang in there, things will get better. OK, so why do I feel so much like crying? Yanno, I want my mommie; and I am not kidding. My mom died about 4 years ago and I miss her very much. Right now, I feel like a little kid who really needs to cry on mommie's lap. I don't care how old you are, nothing takes the place of MOM. I have no mom to cry on and that really makes me feel all alone.

I was telling my baby (my partner) this afternoon that the loneliest person in the world is an old fag with no friends. Sometimes I feel that way. Then I thought a bit on this subject and I think it is not a case of being lonely, it is a case of being stir crazy. I sit at home all damn day and wait for him to come home from work. Oh God, how I want him to come home all happy to be home with me, ready to go somewhere exciting, to do something exciting; something that will lift my spirits. Of course, that is not what happens when he gets home. He tells me about his day, which is what any normal person would do. He unloads and gets a large burden off his shoulders; but it does nothing to help me unload my feelings.

No, I don't want him to bottle up his feelings. He needs to let them out to me. That is part of what our love is supposed to do for each other, help by just being there and adsorb some of the frustration of working. Believe me, I know. I work for more years than I care to remember. I came home as frustrated as any man. Elmo (not his real name, or did you already guess that), I love you. I really do, from the bottom of my heart. I LOVE YOU. I want to help you solve some of those frustrations of your job. Please continue to share them with me and I will try to be of some help to you.

There are times when I need to share my frustrations with you. Did you really think that retirement is without frustrations? It isn't. The most worrisome thought is the knowledge that my income is fixed. There is no chance for overtime, for a raise, for another job or anything. There is no chance of any kind of change. My income is written in stone. If we want a new HDTV and audio surround system, we are going to have to save for it or figure out a way to pay for it on the good old credit system. I, as well as you, have too much fucking credit now. Now, couple all of that with the fact that the damn, greedy, IRS is going to get 4 grand from me in about three weeks and I am scared to death. I wish I could find a way to refigure the tax form; but TurboTax doesn't lie. Damnit.

Babe, and I don't call you that because I am calling a movie star, work on it, folks; I hope things do get better for both of us. It would be nice to come into big bucks; but you know the chances of that happening are about as much as pigs sprouting wings and flying. Why do I feel like my name is Flo? We have each other; I know that I got the better bargain. You are stuck with me and my illnesses. I am so sorry for that, words do not explain how I feel. I love you more than anything on this earth. If A Nonnie Mouse wants me to "hang in there"; I need you to be by my side and we will do it together.

Ever have one of those days

I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. Forgot my password. Damn, why do we have to have those frigging passwords? Is it becasue there are so many dishonest people out there? I guess that does have something to do with it. Why won't this stupid blogger start a new paragraph? Shit, this is really going to be one of those days. When I hit enter so the cursor can go down two lines, the fucking cursor disappears. I guess there is no need to continue. See ya.

HELLO, IS ANYBODY OUT THERE

Why is it that we have so many days when we seem to be ignored? I think it was Shakespear who said, "No man is an island". I reaized that everything we do and say has an impact on people around us; but there are days when it seems nobody is listening or cares. I have had days when two or three cars have pulled out in front of me without looking; people have bumped into me without saying theywere sorry and I have held doors for women who walked right past me and didn't say a simple "Thank You". Know my answer to them? "Screw you". I demand a simple thank you when I accomodate someone like that.

Another thing that pisses me off is when a group of people reach the end of a escalator and congregate around the end of the thing without moving aside for the rest of the folks on the escalator. I have to try to back peddle because there is no place to go. People have been killed in similar situations. Some days I feel like shouting, "Damn stupid ass people, get the fuck out of my goddamned way". But, of course, I don't. I just go online and bore the hell out of you with my rantings.

OK, I just returned from a meeting of a fraternal organization that I have belonged to for the last 22 years. I am on the board of the organization and that puts me right in the middle of every argument that comes along. The board must solve every situation that is brought to it. We don't always solve it in a timely fashion; but we do reach some kind of decision. That, in and of itself, usually results in another argument amoungst the board members.

I am so damned sick of arguing. Every step of the way of my career was an argument. I climbed the ladder of success and was quite satisfied with where I ended up. I turned down a couple of promotions because I did not want that job; even then, I had to argue with higher management as to why I was turning it down. My individual feelings were being discounted. Hey, fuck them, I have feelings and ideals and if I don't want to comprimise them, that is my fucking business. Not theirs. Sometimes I feel like walking away from this organization and never looking back; but I do believe that the organization can do some good in the overall scheme of things. That is why I continue to put myself in harm's way.

Well, it is Saturday morning. What are your plans for the weekend? I really have none, after having to attend the special meeting of the board of directors. Now, I am free to do and go as I please. My only concern will be for my precious partner, who right now is sacked out in a lazyboy chair sleeping. I hope we can do something today that will break the doldrums for both of us. He is still working a 40 hour work week and I try to make the weekends fun for him. That is not always easy. Sometimes he is hard to read as to what he would like to do. Other times he just wants to be left alone, and after me spending 5 days being home alone, I relish the interaction between the two of us.

I love driving. My dad was a Greyhound bus driver. He drove hundreds of thousands of miles every year. He was a safe driver, too. In his many years of driving a big bus, he had only one accident. Some guy pulled out in front of the bus and was killed. Other passengers on the bus said that dad had no way of avoiding the accident. Too bad; because my dad really never got over that experience. Thank God, I have never been involved in an accident where someone was killed or permanently injured. I think, I would be a basket case. Hell, I cry at watching a TV show. I even cried the other night while watchint the History Channel. They did a show on railroad crossing accidents and one of the accidents was a shcool bus that did not clear the crossing. I think 9 kids were killed. They saw the train coming and knew it was going to kill them. That had to be agony. To know you were going to die and there was absolutely no way of getting out of the way of that train. The fault was a poorly designed railroad crossing and adjacent intersection. The bus was stopped at a red light; but the rear of the bus had not cleared the railroad tracks. Now, who do you blame for those deaths? Big, conjested cities are not alway as safe as they may seem.

I wrote a post a couple of days ago that I was going to post here; but decided it may be too raw to post. It detailed my introduction to sex and after reading it, I thought it was more of a "how to set of instructions" than I inteneded it to be so I did not post it. I do not want to put ideas into other people's heads, especially ideas about how to have sex. Yanno, I always hated that phrase, "have sex". Sex, the word, can be used so many ways. It can be a noun, a verb, an adverb and an adjective; and still, many variations of those four. The phrase, "have sex" seems silly to me. It is like saying, "have automobile". We think our language is so simple. Well, for us, it is; but for someone from another country trying to learn and understand American English, it is very difficult. Our sentence structure makes no sense. Our use of some words makes no sense. Take the talking car safety feature, "The door is ajar". Yeah, right.

Laugh, that was as funny as it gets.

Into the Night

Into the night, that is where I am headed. Much quicker than I ever intended. I feel like I am going downhill energy wise and health wise. Way too quick. I intended to stick around for many years; but I feel the energy slipping away.

When I had the stroke, the doctors and nurses were preparing me for life in a wheelchair. I told tham that was not acceptable. I had too much energy. Well, I walked out of that hospital, on crutches, mind you, but I did walk out under my own power in only three weeks. I do not want to sit by and watch the rest of the world go by. I want to be out there participating in things.

Now, the effects of the stroke are coming back. My energy fails quickly. My ability to stand for any period over 3 minutes is just not there. I used to be a walker, I loved to walk. I loved to take long walks in the countryside, stop for a few minutes and rest, and then start waking another mile or so. Now, if I can walk 200 feet without stopping to rest, it is a miracle. My partner used to have a hard time keeping up with me on these walks; now it is no contest. He, sometimes takes my arm and helps me walk.

This must be quite a burden on him. It must be embarrassing for him to have to be helping me out of the reataurant ot up or down the steps. Steps are hell for me. He does these things for me and I almost cry; because I know without him, I couldn't do them. I am so grateful for my precious, loving, partner. In a way, it is embarrassing for me, too. Even five years ago, I was not in this condition. They tell me the cancer I had five years ago should have had no affect on me like this. OK, then I can only attribute it to the stroke and the fact that I am going downhill fast. Not exactly a pleasant place to be in life. They say we will never know the day of our death; then why do I feel like mine is approaching so damn quickly?

I used to enjoy life, I used to enjoy sex, I used to enjoy eating a good meal, seeing a good movie, having a good time. Now life has become a chore, sex is non-existant because of the cancer; I eat too damn much, seldom see a movie; because I will eat through the fucking thing and don't laugh nearly as much as I used to. Is my life winding down. I think if I were to take a poll, the majority would say, "yes". Know what? I really don't want it to. I don't want to laeave my parther, I love him. I love life, I love people, I love seeing and doing new things; but, I can do half of what I want to do. The body just will not do what it used to do and I don't have enough money to do it all. There are times when I think I don't have enough time left to do them.

Sometimes writing a blog can be theraputic. Other times it is a fucking drag.

Questions and Answers

Questions, we all have questions. Questions about you, about me, about ourselves. I will even give you one right here. Are we satisified with the answers we get? Many times, no.

We are looking for the Leave it to Beaver life. Beaver had it easy, didn't he? All Beaver had to do was ask Wally, or Ward (Dad) and he could be assured of having the answer that solved all his problems. Know what? Life ain't that east. I wish it were. If only we could see into the future to know if this or that will occur; or if we should do this or that. Real life just isn't like that. Only God knows the future and He seldom tells us. However, He does lead us, if we seek His guidance. The key phrase here is "seek His guidance". Many times when we are puzzled, we mutter a short prayer and say something like, "God, help me". Is that really enough ?

What does it take to really receive an answer from God? Well, sometimes it takes more than we are willing to give to the situation. In fact, do we really, honestly, want God's answer or are we looking to have our own feelings justified so we can feel filified, whether properly or not. Seeking the "face of God" as some call attempting to find the will of God; is not something that can be taken lightly, nor is it usually done overnight. I have been privileged, from time to time, to feel that I knew what God wanted me to do or say. Trust me, it took years of prayer and supplication to get to the point in life where I could say that. There are certain things that lead me to stop and listen and look around. Sort of like crossing a RR track, remember, Stop, Look and Listen.

I recently had a 4 year checkup screen for cancer. I knew the day before the PET scan what the results would be. I saw God's pure white. I knew. I have never mentioned this to anyone before. Even my partner does not know this, until now, when he reads it.

Life has many times we question which road to take. Should I go left, should I go right? Should I tell this "secret" or should I keep quiet? When you arrive at the fork in the road may be too late to stop and ask God. You may be travelling on the highway at 65 miles per hour; you certainly can't come to a stop in the middle of the Interstate and begin to pray. You must be "prayed up" as the fundies call it You must be in such a frame of mine that split decision answers come freely. AND THEY MUST BE THE RIGHT ONES.

I do not consider myself a preacher by any means. You already know that I am a gay middle aged man. No preacher. But, I do know God. I know who He is, and I know who and what I am. I know that I am standing on solid ground, I know that He loves me. I knew that the minute the nurses woke me up in recovery 4 years ago. I was ready to die, the doctors had already prepared me for that. The had told me what a difficult operation this was going to be. Know what? I never had pain or discomfort. The only thing that hurt was when I sat on the stitches in my butt. God was there. He guided the surgeon's hand and He led the way for me. No, He didn't change me I am still gay, I still love to look at a cute boy. I still like to look at movies of boys having sex and making love. Not the porn that some guys like, I like the loving sex because I believe God is Love and I do not see wrong in a man loving a man.

Ok, you know wher I stand. Where do you stand? Jesus said, "You are either for me, or you are against me". There is no middle ground. Why not be FOR Him? Where do you stand?

Sick

Well, last night I didn't post anything because I just got too busy. Now, today, I am sick. I feel like crap. For one thing, I overate for supper. Now I have a pain in my stomach.

I alluded to posting a story from my past in my post of Monday. I will get around to that; but right now all I want to do is get this bloated feeling out of my belly. One of our male cats went to bed with me last night and one of the little girls curled up on the floor beside the bed. I read for a while and the little guy played with my feet under the covers. In fact, he bit my toes. I almost hollered out loud when he did it. It hurt. The little girl was the one who is so skittish and doesn't want to be touched, except when she is concentrating on eating. At that point, she doesn't give a crap about what you do, just put the food down so she can eat. Nope, she isn't overeating; her sister is the one who is getting fat. Her sister will son the edge of the table when we are eating and look so pitiful until you give her a small bite to eat. I know that isn't healthy for the cat or for us to have her on the table; but since they don't go outside, I seriously doubt we are going to die from infection received from a kitty.

Today, I just sat in my partner's lazyboy chair and watched a little TV and slept. That may be contributing to my not feeling so good. Maybe I need to get up and do more; but I just don't have the energy or the inclination to do so. Since retirement, I have really become a couch potato. Yep, I am ashamed of that fact; but, at least, I admit it. Because of the stroke a number of years ago, I find it difficult to bend over or to make any sudden movements of my head at all. Life sucks when you don't feel good. I want to go on vacation so badly; but my partner doesn't have the ability to take off willy-nilly on a whim. So, I guess I am going to have to tough it out for a couple more months until his scheduled vacation time comes around.

I watched a show on TV today ($40.00 a Day) where the host tries to hold her eating expenses to $40 bucks in any city in the nation. That is not always an easy task to do. Today she was in Chatanooga, Tennessee. My partner and I have been there twice. If I remember correctly, the first time we were there was the first time we had taken any trip together. Boy, that was a fun trip. Anything I wanted to do, any place I wanted to vist or eat, he was willing to try. We went up the side of Lookout Mountain in a cable car, then went inside Lookout Mountain to see Ruby Falls. Nothing special there; but the cable car ride was really an experience. You start out at the bottom of the mountain, sitting in the seat. By the time the car is up to the top, you are standing on your feet, leaning back in the seat and looking out at the river and terrain below through the top of the cable car. Quite an experience.

We had a few other experiences on that trip. Maybe someday I will relate our fun times at the motel. Of course, that is none of your business; but they were a nice fun experience for us. Let's just say we became very well acquainted with each other.

I said that we tried a number of restaurants. We drove up to Knoxville, stayed at a Best Western there and visited the Oak Ridge Reactor at Oak Ridge, TN. When I saw how little monitoring equipment they had back then, I am surprised they hadn't blown themselves off the face of the planet. I am sure glad that nuclear reactors of today have more protection and monitoring instrumentation. The entire Oak Ridge facility is interesting. Some fcilities are open to the public; but most are top sevret and closed to the public. When in Oak Ridge we ate at a place called Quincy's. Man they had some great food.

We made it down to Gattlinburg and intended to go into the Blue Ridge Mountains; but my stupid vehicle began to overheat when I climbed up to Ober Gattlinburg. Since it was the next to the last afternoon of the time we had alloted to the vacation, we drove down, went back to the motel and watched TV. The next day we drove the long trip back home. I will never forget those experiences with the two of us. I think we fell in love on that trip; but didn't know it till a few months later.

Tomorrow is another day, stick around.

Does anyone have a hobby anymore

What ever happened to hobbies? Do people have hobbies anymore? I can recall the time when people used to sit in their living rooms or on the back porch in good weather and whittle things out of wood. I can recall the times when people used to knit things for decorations in the house. Many other constructive hobbies used to occupy folks time and resulted in something tangible to save over the years. Today, we got the boob tube. I think television , CDs, DVDs, video tape and such has contributed to the dumbing down of society.

People want to sit and be entertined rather than do something that could be kept for generations as a rememberance of themselves. I would give anything to have the cornet that my father used to play in small dance bands; but I have no idea where it could be. I like to operate ham radio or build and operate a small HO railroad; but there is no one else who cares. If I spent hours building a locomotive or weeks building a railroad layout, there is no one who will care if it is there after I kick the bucket.

Either people are very lazy or they are too tired to do anything but sit on thier fat assses and watch the TV. I can remember weekly poker or canasta games that went from player's houses to another player's house each week. When I was a toddler, I can remember that poker game at my dining room table. I remember mom taking me to a few of the houses when it was at another house, and I can remember being baby sit when she didn't take me. Baby sit, boy that brings up another whole subject. Maybe some day I will get into that. Prepare for an XXX rated post if I do.

Why have people abandoned relationships with other people just to sit in front of an electron tube and watch the same show they watched 3 years ago. Nothing really changes on TV, you know. Lucy is dead. When you watch "I Love Lucy", you are watching the same show you have seen 10 times before. Even the news is almost a repet from day to day, only the names and places are different. Auto accident, murder, rape, government misdeeds, social security is going bankrupt. Fuck, Social Security has been going bankrupt for my entire life and it still hasn't hit that point. It is all hype, all lies; and the gullible American public is buying into it hook, line and sinker for about the third or fourth time.

What we need are more hobbies to take us away from the boob tube. Then we can have purpose to our lives and maybe the doomsday sayers on TV will go away. Oh, BTW, why do you think they call it the "boob tube"? Because if you watch enough of it, your intelligence will go down and you will be considered a BOOB, a dunce.

Sunday, is that the end of the week or the first

I hate Sundays. Even though I have retired from working for someone, I still have the feeling that I must hurry thourgh Sunday and get ready for Monday and the trip back to the salt mine. Silly, isn't it? Well, I have spent over half of my life doing this and it is a hard feeling to shake. I guess I will not go into retirement quietly. I will be dragged into it kicking and screaming. I would, so much, like to retire, sit back and feel that my struggle is done; but that just isn't the way I feel. Who do I blame for this? Is it the corporate thinking? Is it a feeling that I can't quit? I dunno, it is still a nagging feeling I get every Sunday. I think the way to get rid of this feeling is to move to Hawaii. Yeah, that is what I should do.

Of course, that is not what I will do. I will continue to live here and feel this way for the next 60 years. That should give me the opportunity to piss on a lot of former bosses graves. Hey, if I drink a lot of soda, I can water their funeral flowers quite well and all the flowers will be dead in two days, just like they are. I shouldn't talk that way; I am not a very nice person. However, I am quite realistic.

OK, for you voyuers out there, I will tell you that my partner and I got it on again today. He is giving me a workout and I love it. He knows I will do anything he asks of me and I want it just that way. That is the way a marriage should be. Besides, he squeals so cute. The moans aren't bad, either. I love the way he does it. It just makes me want to smother him with kisses and sqeeze him till he pops again. I wonder if there is that much love juice in him?

We went out for breakfast this morning and both ate more than we should have. I didn't really feel like eating supper; but we did stop at a local custard stand and fill the hollow spots in our tummies with nice freshly made ice cream custard. This place has been in business for 14 years and always has a long line waiting for ice cream of some kind. I swear, if they were open 365 days a year, there would be a line every day, including Christmas day, right after the turkey dinner. This is another food place that I would drive miles to get to; but thankfully, it is only about 3 miles down the road.

I have many emails to write and I really don't want to start. Some days it comes easy to write to people, other days, I would rather write once and send it to hundreds just to get it over with. Well, since that isn't the way it is going to be, I guess I will just call this post done and open the email program and start working into the night Hmmm, that sounds familiar.

Later dudes and dudesses. Maybe a few duds.

HAPPY DAYS

Well folks, if you read the past two posts of mine you would think that my sex life was done for. Not so, at least, not the way I look at it. My precious partner and I took a two hour drive into the Southern part of the state for a good meal. There is this buffet place where we really like the food; but absolutely love the bread pudding with lemon sauce. It was about an 80 mile drive. During this time we talked about my childhood, my relatives and a very little about sex. Apparently something along the way got to my lover; because he got turned on. More than once he mentioned that we would do something when we got home.

Hey, we did and it was wonderful. You already know that cancer prevents me from haveing an erection; but it sure didn't prevent my lover from getting a whopper. Again, I kept my pants on to shield the sight of the colostomy; but he laied on his bed totally naked and very turned on. After about 10 minutes of oral play and the use of a anal toy, he got turned off in quite a large way. I mean, he shot a load straight up in the air that must have gone 3 feet. I can say that; because it went up and up. I mean he had one of the best ejaculations in days and the most important part of that is that I was able to help him achieve it.

It is very difficult to love someone and not be able to participate in sex with that person. Of course, even that is better than the other choice I could have made. I chose to fight the rectal cancer agressively and it seems that, after 4 years I am heading in the right direction. I am alive and today I really felt alive for the first time in about a year. Is this too much information for you? Well, stop reading if that is the case. It was so uplifting for me to hear him squeal and moan and to hear him keep begging for more. Yeah, and I enjoyed giving it to him, too.

On the way home I tried to look up an old friend of mine that retired about 25 years ago. I had an address for him; but no phone number and no information if he is still active in communications. Actually, considering his age, I guess he is not active; but I was hopeing to find him still alive and kicking. I can not tell you the answer; because the home showed no signs of anyone being around. I enjoyed the side trip through the countryside and seeing the signs of where the old coal mines used to be. There are some mighty fine looking lakes, now. I am sure if they are stocked, the fishing must be great. Of course, neither one of us are big fisshermen. I will fish; but I am not one for standing on the shore for hours without talking as some avid fishermen are. Since I can not swim, I am not going out in a small boat to do the fishing, either.

For the next few days we will be on pins and needles awaiting an answer from a friend of ours that is incarcerated. We have been visiting him for a number of years; but have never come right out and told him that either of us are gay. He knows we live together and if he hasn't thought the possibility exists, he hasn't opened his eyes. After all, what kind of sex goes on in a prison? You know the answer. He has told us of the screams at night when a new man is brought into the cellhouse. Ok, this doesn't go on in every prison; but in some it does. However, if you think a man is going to go for years without masturbating, you are not looking at life with both eyes open. In prison, the men are housed two to a cell. There is no privacy, even when using the toilet. There is no way to keep anything from your cell mate.

Anyway, my partner wrote him a letter yesterday where he "came out" to our friend. I encouraged him to tell the total truth to our friend. Now we are waiting to receive a phone call or a letter from him. Will he still wish to be friends or will he dump us like a case of rabies? We stand to loose a friend; but lets face it, he should already know about us in his own mind. At least suspect it. This guy really shouldn't be too choosy about his friends. When you are in prison, your visitors are few and far between. Besides, the state likes to move the inmates between facilities about every 16 months. We have driven 250 miles many times for a short two hour visit. The state likes to make it difficult on the inmates to have visitors. Right now he is housed about 180 miles away and it would be a three to four hour drive to visit him.

I hope he takes the news well, without anger and can accept us for who we are and how we are to him Isn't that the way we are supposed to treat people. Treat them as they treat us and the way we want to be treated.

Well, time to close this one or I will soon run out of space. Thanks for reading. See ya tomorrow.

Revealed and Discussed

Well, my partner just read my first blog. We had just completed a heart to heart talk about my feelings. He says he understands my feelings and that I am blowing things out of proportion. That may very well be. If you only make love once a week or even less, I think you would be just as impatient as I am. There is no denial, I want him every moment of my life. I mean every bit of "until death do us part" or is it us do part. I dunno. Anyway I am his and he is mine until the very end.

I was happy that we had our conversation; because the longer these things go on, the more they build into something that is overblown. Like the preverbial molehill made into a mountain. We went out to supper this evening and began our talk at the table in the restaurant. Very much in control but anxious for us to get home so he could read an email that I wrote to him last night. BTW, we both enjoyed our Italian food. Service was lousy, so he only tipped a buck fifty.. Normally we like to leave the server three bucks. Three bucks, get it? Honestly, that is our normal tip for anything under $30.00. When the bill goes over that or the service is extra good, I have been known to leave 15%, which is normal these days. I guess you can tell that I am not a BIG tipper; but I do like to recognize good service especially if the guy is cute. What pisses me off about tipping is when the bill is $30.00 and you only have twenties in the wallet. You put $40.00 on the table and they ask if you want change. Well, of course I do. I am not going to give the server ten bucks just for doing their job. Fort Knox, I ain't.

I remember one time at another restaurant where the server made no attempt to hide the fact that he was gay. In fact, he flaunted it to us. Well, that didn't bother either one of us. We talked about putting him in a take out box and taking him home; but we didn't. The main problem with doing things like that is the possibility exists that the person could be offended and make a scene. We don't want that to happen.

My partner is right now working on a letter to a friend of ours in which he is going to tell that person that we are gay. I have known this person for about 20 years. The guy is in prison and due to get out in a few years; I am sure he knows something about the subject. My partner is worried about how the other guy will take the information. I guess there is only two ways he will take it. Either it will cause him to rebel and cut off our relationship or he will accept it and continue our relationship. There isn't any other way to go. Maybe I should tell you that my partner is a worry wart. He worries about things like this and totally sidesteps the issue of my concerns. Sometimes I want to whack him up the side of his head and scream. I love the little worry wart anyway.

When I write a ltter, I ramble. In this diary, I will ramble and ramble. I do promise to edit it and try not to repeat myself that much. It's like when I write a letter, I ramble. OK OK, I made my point. ROFLMAO. There are times when I become fixated on something and talk about it till the subject is dead of old age. I will try to not do that here. Whether I have readers, or am just writing a diary that only my partner and I will read, I have no idea. I will try to keep the language suitable for a "PG" raiting.

Short post this evening, I have more computing to do and many emails to read and answer. Take care, be thoughtful, and enjoy life.

Introduction

Allow me to introduce myself. I am a middle aged gay man who is rapidly approaching the night, the end of my journey here on earth. No, I am not planning to hasten it; but death comes to us all. I have been through a number of illnesses and surgeries; but am still alive and kicking. I do not know how much longer that is going to last, or even how much longer I can stand the present situation.

Because of my health and physical condition my love life has hit the bottom. My precious partner no longer wants to have relations with me. He tolerates me; but I can tell that his heart is not into it.

Now, let me go into more detail as to why I feel this way. A bit of background may be in order. My partner is a number of years younger than I. We moved in together 7 years ago, after knowing each other for eight years. In the beginning, we simply couldn't get enough of each other. Our love life flourished and we grew to become so close that either one of us could finish the other's sentence or thought. Our times together were too short, even if we were on an extended vacation, the time ended too quickly. It was so much fun to be together, go places, experience new things with someone I really loved. I would give my life for him and he knows it.

I purchased a home for the two of us 7 years ago. We moved in and were as happy as newlyweds could be. Then the big change hit me. I had cancer. The doctors did a great job; I am still alive after 4 years; but the surgery left me with a colostomy. I do not need to describe that, just imagine it in your mind's eye. Not a very appealing site. That was the beginning of the turn off for my partner. Well, I didn't blame him at first. I tried not to let him see me totally naked. Around the house I wear sweat pants all the time. Oh, BTW, my financial situation allowed me to retire early, so far, the finances are not a problem.

My only sex life is helping my partner. He knows I will do anything for him; but no matter what I offer, he declines. He says he still loves me as much as ever; but is beginning to think of me as a Grandfather figure, rather than as his partner. Do you have any idea how much that hurts? OK, so I can't preform the way I used to; but that doesn't mean that I can't help him. That doesn't mean that I don't want to help him. Maybe I am getting too graphic here. I am well aware of the feelings of some people towards gay men and women. I realized that I was different from other boys when I was 8 years old. Back then it was called queer.

I endured that label through high school and quickly retreated into the closed when I began working. Now, that I am retired, and no longer have to be what someone wants me to be, I can be more open and be myself.

My partner began blogging a couple of years ago and got close to a situation that appeared completely innocent. Later, in fact just last month, he found out that the whole thing was a sham. The people doing the posting were not who they said they were. In fact, it seems that one person, close to my own age; was posing as three young men and telling such a sad story that many people were taken in by their tale. He was hurt. Now he is back blogging; but this time does not want to share his blog with me. Do you have any idea what I am feeling by that? First, he no longer wants to make love, then he doesn't even want me to read what he posts for the rest of the world to read.

Is he going to try to run a sham of his own? Is he going to tell of his sexual exploits with others (I don't even know of any)? Is he going to tell you how some cute guy turns him on? Hell, a cute guy gives me ideas too; but I don't dwell on it because I consider myself married to my partner. What does he want to keep from me? Isn't it enough that the surgery is like a knife in my back; does he have to twist it by shunning me? He is my soul mate, he is the one I love.

That should be enough to get you up to speed on my trials and tribulations. There is much more to post.