Big Fat Hairy Living

I’ve been at home sick the past two days with a high fever. I feel a little better today, so I’m probably going to go back to work tomorrow. Why is it more fun being at home sick than being at work healthy?

Tomorrow is also the RSVP deadline for telling the virgin who’s marrying a virgin that I’m not coming to his wedding. I wish I didn’t have to talk to him.

The weather outside is beautiful, my cold is finally starting to go away, and thanks to some support from a few friends, I’m in a better mood now. Good weather always helps.

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I’ve written before about how the guy who doesn’t know what mono is never seems to tire of talking on the phone with his Iranian friends, including during the Remembrance Day moment of silence. Today he came into work with some kind of laryngitis, and has been speaking in a hoarse croak all morning. That hasn’t stopped him from having three separate personal phone conversations totalling over half an hour since he got in.

As I was writing this entry, I was about to write that I didn’t feel sorry for him. I thought about it a bit, then decided that was too harsh and that I shouldn’t take joy in his suffering. Just at that moment, he picked up the phone to talk to some other friend, and I realized that I was more right the first time. I don’t wish any suffering on him, but I’m not exactly oozing sympathy for him either.

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I like guys who look masculine but are just a little bit queeny, which is why I totally love bears. I love the way bears can take a physical appearance that’s stereotypically masculine and heterosexual and turn it into something completely and utterly gay. Case in point: this morning at Wellesley Station, I saw a 6′ 5″ tall, 300-plus pound bear and his only slightly less big boyfriend carrying matching hot pink La Senza Girl shopping bags.

A 21-year old gay man writes to sexual advice columnist Dan Savage:

I met this guy on a gay chat line. I’m 21, he’s 42, a big, hairy daddy type. I’ve had a daddy fetish forever but never acted on it. He’s sweet on the phone, and we have explosive phone sex. My friends would be weirded out by this. Should I meet him? Can affairs with such a large age gap work out?

Dan Savage replies:

It depends on how you define “work out,” DAD. If by “work out” you mean, “We will fall hopelessly in love and be together for ever,” then the answer is no, it’s unlikely to “work out.” But if by “work out” you mean, “I’ll meet a good guy, have some great sex, and even if we don’t wind up together I’ll do my best to make sure we wind up friends,” then the answer is yes, it could work out.

As for your friends, I don’t see how their feelings factor in–not unless you’re planning to ask them to watch.

I wrote a letter to him:

Mr. Savage:

I was disappointed to read your response to DAD, the 21 year-old man in your March 17 “Kids Today” column who wanted to know whether an affair with a 42 year-old daddy could “work out.” While you wisely told him that his friends’ feelings about the large age difference shouldn’t matter, you also told him that it’s unlikely that they’ll fall hopelessly in love and be together forever. You don’t explain why you think that, leaving me to guess that you think that it’s the large difference in ages that’s an issue.

Age isn’t any more a barrier to forming a loving, lasting relationship than ethnicity, culture, religion, or even sex. In the same way that two people of opposite sexes can bring different perspectives, experiences, wants, and needs to a relationship, so can two people of widely differing ages. An older man can bring wisdom, experience, and patience to a relationship, and a young man can bring energy and an un-jaded perspective. Despite what you hint at further down in your response to III, I don’t think older men are any more likely to be creepy and manipulative than young men. In fact, my experience has been the opposite.

I have many friends and acquaintances my age who are in relationships with men who are much older. They have the same ups and downs as any other kind of relationship. It’s very possible, and I’d argue very likely, that relationships between older and younger men can work out just as well as any other relationship.

When I was 27 years old, I met a wonderful man 20 years older than me. After three years, we’re still together and we’re even more in love. I hope you’ll reconsider your advice to DAD.

Sincerely,
Obviously Loves Daddies

I wonder if he’ll reply.

In another boring Terri Schiavo article at CBC News, this picture:

That’s what right-wing extremist Christianity looks like up close, folks: old, male, balding, and contorted. With gaudy accessories.

Meanwhile, this man needs to let me lick his earlobes. So cute.

Mark is in Ottawa right now visiting his parents for the long weekend. I realise that I’m not exactly someone who has much to complain about when it comes to the loneliness department, but I feel really alone right now. I could use one of his hugs. Soft and squishy with solid bulk underneath, and all warm and furry.

At the pharmacy on a mission to pick up cough, cold and flu caplets (Thanks, bitch), I run into Claude in the pain relief aisle. “I have something to show you,” I say, pulling out the issue of Macleans magazine I had just purchased. “You’ll really like it. It’s the latest issue of Maclean’s magazine.” He looks at the cover. “Oh, did you get it because JE$US is on the cover?” It’s a story about how the Royal Ontario Museum got fooled into buying that fake James ossuary. “Yes, I got it because JE$US is on the cover.” I flip to page 46 and show him this:

Sorry for the quality of the scan, but I don’t really know what I’m doing when it comes to scanning. My apologies as well for the watermark, which I added only to prevent other people from uploading it to that site that works on the credit system. The stud in the picture is Mike Mihelic, a 29-year old, 6′ 5″ tall, 310 pound former Hamilton Tiger-Cats lineman, who apparently was charged a few years ago for posessing steroids. I want him to fuck my mouth, beat the shit out of me, and tell me he loves me.

I honestly don’t understand why anyone cares about steroid use in professional sports. Since the beginning of organized sporting competitions, athletes have been doing whatever they can to get the slightest advantage. What’s more, people use all sorts of drugs to enhance their performance all the time — I use caffeine, the socially approved stimulant, to stay awake at work. Baseball and football players are all adults, and every one of them is able to make his own decision ast to what to put in his body. And if the result of steroid use is more guys who look like Mike Mihelic, I say bring ‘em on!

While surfing today, I stumbled across a web site entitled CuteLittleBlokes.com. Martin, the proprietor, draws cute little … bear caricatures, and at a decent price. I like David’s cute little bloke.

The apartment across the hall from me is empty, and workmen have been there every day completely ripping it apart. The floors have been pulled up, tiles lifted, cabinets ripped off, and appliances removed. I’ve gone in and taken a peek at it, and it looks like the landlord is giving the apartment a complete renovation from head to toe. As if new kitchen cabinetry isn’t enough to get me hard, the workmen are hot too. For the last two days, I’ve gotten close-up looks at one of the contractors, a hot short Italian-looking guy in overalls and with a dark black goatee and hair popping out of the top of his shirt. He looks so cute in his Carhartts.

Yesterday at the gym, a hot guy was shaving naked in front of the mirror. I used to see that at the YMCA all the time when I was going there years ago. Strangely, it was always the straight guys who shaved naked. Not that I minded.

Fox Sports has a photo gallery of the NFL’s fattest players. My favourite: Ryan Diem is the hottest one of them all at a svelte 331 pounds. Derrick Dockery, 345 pounds, is a close second in hotness. (Bonus picture from another gallery: miscellaneous big dudes.)