The usual Saturday. Laundry, loafing. I’m comfortable with it. Ran some errands as well. So it was somewhat productive, but with as little exertion as possible. Didn’t write yesterday, Julio was here with Rand working on the computer trying to free up space which seemed almost impossible. So now it seems I need a new hard drive.

Which is fine since Rand was able to find and purchase a new one within minutes, at a good price and it should be here in a day or two. The three of us just hung out as I played DVD’s and cd’s, Julio and I drinking Heineken, and Rand drinking Guinness.

I realized that I wasn’t going to be writing and it was confirmed by around 11PM when I was sort of really buzzed and just zoned out listening to the two of them talk computer innards.

Bill came over last night after Rand and Julio split around 1AM. I knew Bill was coming over since he was driving for Academy Bus Lines and would get in late. I don’t mind. We do enjoy each other’s company. I was talking online to my friend Song the other day and it dawned on me that Bill and I are both catchers.

We have everything going for us, but in sexual compatibility we are batting zero. I thought it was funny. Bill took umbrage. I used the term ‘bottoms’. There are tops who do the screwing, and bottoms who get screwed. Only Bill doesn’t get screwed. Likes to kneel if you know what I mean.

Me? Well, do the math.

I used to be such a slut, for lack of a better word. I had a lot of sex. Really, a LOT of sex. No names please, cause I never asked for any. That brings to mind the reason why a lot of straight men don’t like gay men. Jealousy. Subconscious. Two gay men, can pick up a vibe off each other, just walking down the street, and if the vibe is strong enough, they will get at it.

No names, no questions, no ‘will he call me tomorrow?’. And sometimes it’s fast, 15 minutes, sometimes in an hour. Sometimes it’s an alley, bathroom or office. Sometimes it’s an apartment or a hotel. Men are dogs. Gay men are really dogs.

Straight men, I think, wish they could get a vibe from a woman on the street, and hook up much the same way gay men do. But women aren’t like that. Most women aren’t. As far as I know. Many strings attached, where 99% of the time, a very liberal estimate, gay men are without strings.

When I met Bill I thought that I wouldn’t have to look anywhere else. I had two or three potentials, but they never went anywhere. Just couldn’t do it.

Now, I can. I’ve come to terms with the situation between Bill and I. I can get mine, and be sexually appreciated, and can do things that I wanted to do, or have done to me. Though in the past few weeks, it’s only happened once. I said it before, I was so much more active before the internet.

There is a game of emails going back and forth for quite a while, and I do have problems traveling a distance of more than 3 miles to meet someone. And it is to meet someone in a public place. I’ve met one or two other guys since my rendezvous, but it was just meeting and talking on the street. Fleeting and pleasant, and discussion of meeting up at a later date. I don’t have much faith in it, but I am willing to be surprised.

Another thing is that the guys I’d like to have, the fuck buddies, are hundreds or thousands of miles away, which makes for some very safe sex and my cock isn’t THAT big anyway. Couldn’t make the distance.

These are real, perfect matches, or at least a real and as perfect as the Internet allows. And you probably know what that means. But I am going thru a sexual reawakening. And I’m enjoying it. Wish there was someone to enjoy it with, though I feel there will be sometime soon.

I have to put myself out there. I’ve taken a step in what hopefully is the right direction.

I just got off the phone with RoDa. He was telling me that the guy in the Jaguar was his cousin Tony. Tony, I think is hot. The other day when I got off the PATH train this hot looking guy in a Jaguar is honking his horn at me, and I couldn’t figure it out who it was, just that he was cute. I curse my Ipod. I should’ve taken off my headphones and said hello.

He’s a good looking cigar smoking guy, which as you probably know is a real plus in my book. Of course, he’s straight. Of course I don’t make any moves or overtures. But I can admire.

Now I just walked through the door after having dinner with Connie and Jennifer Poulakos. I’ve known Connie for what seems like ages, and Jennifer for almost as long. Jennifer is a Geneticist and Connie is Connie. Connie’s been ill lately so I haven’t had many opportunities to see her. It was a major event for her to drive up to New York City with her sister. They had gone to MoMA. I thought I was going to a show at the Time Warner Center.

Turns out the show is next month. Connie, Jennifer and I were able to meet for sandwiches at the Grey Dog on Carmine Street. They both really enjoyed the atmosphere and the food. Then we went over to the Anti Imperialist Bookstore where Jennifer bought a Fillmore East book and I bought a Man Ray biography.

We strolled around the village where Jennifer bought some Cannoli’s and Connie and I stood outside and smoked. Of course Connie runs into someone she knows. Everywhere you go with Connie, chances are she’ll run into someone she knows. And this was Gabrielle who’s boyfriend is Tony Shanahan who is in the Patti Smith Group and used to play with Jim Mastro who is married to my friend Meghan Taylor.

The world cinches it belt once more.