Tooshie Tuesdays
This week, we have Tooshies In Water!
POLT
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
THe back of your hand, somewhere on my behind (Part 321)...
This week, we have Tooshies In Water!
POLT
Monday, June 13, 2016
Only when I'm dancing, can I feel this free....
They just wanted to dance.
This is what I keep coming back to. I don't know how coherent this is gonna be, I'm just gonna start typing, but I just keep going back to the fact they went there because they just wanted to dance.
The victims that I've seen have been as young as 20 and as old as 50. There were men and women. There were nursing students, financial planners, business owners, college kids, and others. They were black, white, Latino, and for all I know, Asian as well. There's no statement yet that all of them were in fact gay, although surely, the majority of them were.
And they all just wanted to dance.
Twenty five, twenty six years ago, I came out to myself, finally, because of Madonna and the local gay bar, Deer Park. Had it not been for both of them, who knows when I would have come out to myself. It took me a few tries before I actually went into the bar. And once I did, even though I knew no one else (cause I went in alone), even though I stood against the wall and clutched my beer bottle like it was a life preserver, I felt....at home. Safe. Accepted.
There was music I liked. There were people dancing, both alone and with each other. There were people laughing, talking, holding hands, and even kissing. And no one cared. No one batted and eye at the two hot guys kissing at that table, or the two girls holding hands, with one's head on the other's shoulder. A few drag queens circulated around the bar, like royalty, with the masses, parting like the Red Sea to let them though. No one looked at me (not that I noticed) and judged me, or laughed at me, or called me names, or threatened me. And thankfully none of that stuff has ever happened to me in real life, that I know of. yeah, sure someone's judged me, and probably laughed at me, but whatever, they've not done it around me, or to my face.
But at the bar, I was home. Despite the thumping music, and the darkness sliced through with the lights reflected off the swirling disco ball. Despite the way it smelled of sweat, cologne, alcohol, and probably pot and poppers too, although at that time, I didn't really know what they smelled like. Despite the crowds that weren't talking to me because I was new and despite me being afraid to talk to anyone myself, this was home. This was where I belonged. I knew it almost immediately. This is where my people, my tribe were. And I was with them.
And as I went back over the ensuing weekends, months, and years, to a second bar when the first one closed, and back to Deer Park, but now called The Lodge, when it reopened, all those times, I made friends, and acquaintances, dance partners, laughing friends, and sometimes fuckbuddies or just hookups, Mostly we were there because we wanted to feel like we belonged.
And we just wanted to dance.
If you weren't a young gay man, alone (or so it seemed), the only one in a small rural town, you probably can't know what your first, what the only, gay bar 45 minute drive from your home, means to someone who IS a young gay man from a small rural town. It was home, haven, funhouse, fraternity, and school. It was, I've read someone call it, sacred. And while that's possibly an overstatement, I think it's also quite correct.
The gay bar was were I could go to get away from the hypocrites, the haters, the judgers, the instigators, the homophobes, and the holier-than-thous. At the gay bar, I didn't have to worry about my safety and security, other than possibly having too much to drink and getting a hangover.
I just want to dance.
I haven't been to a gay bar since...well probably last year when Louis was up to visit sometime. From the mid-90s until probably 2008 or so, for that decade, I could count on one hand perhaps, certainly on both hands, the number of Saturdays nights I was NOT at whichever local gay club was open. Anymore, on Saturday nights, I'm ready for bed by 10:30 or 11:00. When I was going to the bars, I rarely got there before 11:00, but now, I'm happy just to be in a warm, comfy bed, relaxing, reading, or sleeping. But back when I was going, oh man, did I dance.
Probably not well. Certainly not as well as others there. Sometimes with someone else, usually alone. And none of that mattered. I heard the music, I felt the music. I let it flow through me and move my arms, shoulders, hips and legs. And I didn't give a shit what anyone else thought. Most people there, I knew, wouldn't be judging the way I was dancing and those who did, they meant nothing to me anyway. I was lost in the music and the dancing.
"Only when I'm dancing, can I feel this free" - Madonna, Into The Groove
So that's why I went, to feel free, to feel accepted unconditionally, and to feel like I belonged, if not in some way loved.
I just went to dance.
How many of those poor people slaughtered Saturday night just went there to dance? To lose themselves? Have fun with friends or by themselves? And how many will never dance again. how many families will have a hole ripped in them? How many.....
Yesterday, I was numb. Today, as I think about this, a lot, I'm starting to feel things. Anger, sadness, shock, depression...all the typical things I think. I hope to soon...well, not understand this exactly, but to wrap my head around it somehow, deal with it, somehow and just go on.
But I think when I'm finished typing this, I'm going to put on some music from the late 90s, some music that I first heard in one of the gay bars here, and I'm going to dance. For many reasons, but I'm doing to dance for those who can no longer do so.
For those who are now dead, just because they wanted to dance.
POLT
This is what I keep coming back to. I don't know how coherent this is gonna be, I'm just gonna start typing, but I just keep going back to the fact they went there because they just wanted to dance.
The victims that I've seen have been as young as 20 and as old as 50. There were men and women. There were nursing students, financial planners, business owners, college kids, and others. They were black, white, Latino, and for all I know, Asian as well. There's no statement yet that all of them were in fact gay, although surely, the majority of them were.
And they all just wanted to dance.
Twenty five, twenty six years ago, I came out to myself, finally, because of Madonna and the local gay bar, Deer Park. Had it not been for both of them, who knows when I would have come out to myself. It took me a few tries before I actually went into the bar. And once I did, even though I knew no one else (cause I went in alone), even though I stood against the wall and clutched my beer bottle like it was a life preserver, I felt....at home. Safe. Accepted.
There was music I liked. There were people dancing, both alone and with each other. There were people laughing, talking, holding hands, and even kissing. And no one cared. No one batted and eye at the two hot guys kissing at that table, or the two girls holding hands, with one's head on the other's shoulder. A few drag queens circulated around the bar, like royalty, with the masses, parting like the Red Sea to let them though. No one looked at me (not that I noticed) and judged me, or laughed at me, or called me names, or threatened me. And thankfully none of that stuff has ever happened to me in real life, that I know of. yeah, sure someone's judged me, and probably laughed at me, but whatever, they've not done it around me, or to my face.
But at the bar, I was home. Despite the thumping music, and the darkness sliced through with the lights reflected off the swirling disco ball. Despite the way it smelled of sweat, cologne, alcohol, and probably pot and poppers too, although at that time, I didn't really know what they smelled like. Despite the crowds that weren't talking to me because I was new and despite me being afraid to talk to anyone myself, this was home. This was where I belonged. I knew it almost immediately. This is where my people, my tribe were. And I was with them.
And as I went back over the ensuing weekends, months, and years, to a second bar when the first one closed, and back to Deer Park, but now called The Lodge, when it reopened, all those times, I made friends, and acquaintances, dance partners, laughing friends, and sometimes fuckbuddies or just hookups, Mostly we were there because we wanted to feel like we belonged.
And we just wanted to dance.
If you weren't a young gay man, alone (or so it seemed), the only one in a small rural town, you probably can't know what your first, what the only, gay bar 45 minute drive from your home, means to someone who IS a young gay man from a small rural town. It was home, haven, funhouse, fraternity, and school. It was, I've read someone call it, sacred. And while that's possibly an overstatement, I think it's also quite correct.
The gay bar was were I could go to get away from the hypocrites, the haters, the judgers, the instigators, the homophobes, and the holier-than-thous. At the gay bar, I didn't have to worry about my safety and security, other than possibly having too much to drink and getting a hangover.
I just want to dance.
I haven't been to a gay bar since...well probably last year when Louis was up to visit sometime. From the mid-90s until probably 2008 or so, for that decade, I could count on one hand perhaps, certainly on both hands, the number of Saturdays nights I was NOT at whichever local gay club was open. Anymore, on Saturday nights, I'm ready for bed by 10:30 or 11:00. When I was going to the bars, I rarely got there before 11:00, but now, I'm happy just to be in a warm, comfy bed, relaxing, reading, or sleeping. But back when I was going, oh man, did I dance.
Probably not well. Certainly not as well as others there. Sometimes with someone else, usually alone. And none of that mattered. I heard the music, I felt the music. I let it flow through me and move my arms, shoulders, hips and legs. And I didn't give a shit what anyone else thought. Most people there, I knew, wouldn't be judging the way I was dancing and those who did, they meant nothing to me anyway. I was lost in the music and the dancing.
"Only when I'm dancing, can I feel this free" - Madonna, Into The Groove
So that's why I went, to feel free, to feel accepted unconditionally, and to feel like I belonged, if not in some way loved.
I just went to dance.
How many of those poor people slaughtered Saturday night just went there to dance? To lose themselves? Have fun with friends or by themselves? And how many will never dance again. how many families will have a hole ripped in them? How many.....
Yesterday, I was numb. Today, as I think about this, a lot, I'm starting to feel things. Anger, sadness, shock, depression...all the typical things I think. I hope to soon...well, not understand this exactly, but to wrap my head around it somehow, deal with it, somehow and just go on.
But I think when I'm finished typing this, I'm going to put on some music from the late 90s, some music that I first heard in one of the gay bars here, and I'm going to dance. For many reasons, but I'm doing to dance for those who can no longer do so.
For those who are now dead, just because they wanted to dance.
POLT
I have to be Rainbow High, in magical colors (Part 13)...
Gay Pride Month!
Today we have a Rainbow Giraffe!
(obviously photoshopped, but still very pretty nonetheless)
POLT
You're wantin my body, I don't mind (Part 541)...
MONDAY'S HOT SHIRTLESS GUY PHOTOS
This week, we have Hot Shirtless Guys With Glasses!
POLT
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Yesterday, as you should know already, we went to DC Gay Pride Parade. We had a fun time, I took some pics, etc, etc, etc.
I cannot post them or talk about it at this time.
As you should also know, a vile person with a legally obtained automatic fire arm, entered a gay nightclub in Orlando last night and shot 103 people, 50 of which died.
Today is no time to take about fun, frivolous, silly things.
It saddens me, but I know nothing will change. I realized that a few years ago when a room full of school kids were slaughtered by a firearm welding maniac. And NOTHING CHANGED.
When we, as a nation, have decided that it's more important for some person to be able to get almost ANY kinda of firearm in almost ANY amount he wishes...when that's more important than the lives of a group innocent children...I knew nothing would ever change.
And the religion of the shooter is irrelevant. There will always be hate, there should never be a way to kill 50 people in a minuscule amount of time. But nothing will change.
Not until a white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant walks into meeting of the NRA and blows a batch of their members away, nothing will change. And maybe not even then.
So I'll post about the Pride Parade, and the fun we had. But not today. Today is for thought, reflection, and prayer.
And for dealing with the anger, depression, fear and sadness I'm currently dealing with.
POLT
I cannot post them or talk about it at this time.
As you should also know, a vile person with a legally obtained automatic fire arm, entered a gay nightclub in Orlando last night and shot 103 people, 50 of which died.
Today is no time to take about fun, frivolous, silly things.
It saddens me, but I know nothing will change. I realized that a few years ago when a room full of school kids were slaughtered by a firearm welding maniac. And NOTHING CHANGED.
When we, as a nation, have decided that it's more important for some person to be able to get almost ANY kinda of firearm in almost ANY amount he wishes...when that's more important than the lives of a group innocent children...I knew nothing would ever change.
And the religion of the shooter is irrelevant. There will always be hate, there should never be a way to kill 50 people in a minuscule amount of time. But nothing will change.
Not until a white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant walks into meeting of the NRA and blows a batch of their members away, nothing will change. And maybe not even then.
So I'll post about the Pride Parade, and the fun we had. But not today. Today is for thought, reflection, and prayer.
And for dealing with the anger, depression, fear and sadness I'm currently dealing with.
POLT
I have to be Rainbow High, in magical colors (Part 12)...
Gay Pride Month!
Today, a rainbow escalator!
POLT
Saturday, June 11, 2016
I have to be Rainbow High, in magical colors (Part 11)...
Gay Pride Month!
Today is Gay Pride in DC! I'll be down there enjoying the Parade! Today we have rainbow drag queens marching in some Gay Pride Parade! I won't see them in DC, but I'd be cheering and clapping if I did!
POLT
My baby's got a secret (Part 370)...
Secret Saturdays
Today, since it's the DC Gay Pride Parade, we have Gay Secrets!
POLT
Friday, June 10, 2016
So I'm posting this from the new computer! Whoo-hoo.
The Carbonite backup is complete, I restarted it, and everything seems to be working as it's supposed to! YAY!
Now, I'm off to bed, so I can get up tomorrow for the Pride Parade.
But now, I should be back to doing all the normal stuff here.
Yay squared.
POLT
The Carbonite backup is complete, I restarted it, and everything seems to be working as it's supposed to! YAY!
Now, I'm off to bed, so I can get up tomorrow for the Pride Parade.
But now, I should be back to doing all the normal stuff here.
Yay squared.
POLT
Back in 2004, I contributed to the Howard Dean campaign, sending him $100. I was not a fan of John Kerry, although I did indeed vote for him. But I didn't give him any money.
Back in 2008, when Obama became the presumptive nominee, I donated money to his campaign. I think it was $500, although it might have been $250. And then, at the convention, once he because the actual Democratic Nominee, I donated again. Again, I'm not sure if it was $500 each time, or if it was $500 total. At any rate, I donated to him because I supported him and wanted him to win.
In 2012, I was less impressed with Obama, a bit disappointed even. I knew I'd be voting for him in both the primary and the general election, but I didn't feel I should donate, so I didn't.
Now that Hillary has become the presumptive nominee, I've gone ahead and donated to her today. And once she becomes the nominee at the convention, I'll give her some more.
I MIGHT even give her some more at or around Labor Day. It is THAT imperative that I do all I can to help keep Donald Trump from getting ANYWHERE near the Oval Office.
POLT
Back in 2008, when Obama became the presumptive nominee, I donated money to his campaign. I think it was $500, although it might have been $250. And then, at the convention, once he because the actual Democratic Nominee, I donated again. Again, I'm not sure if it was $500 each time, or if it was $500 total. At any rate, I donated to him because I supported him and wanted him to win.
In 2012, I was less impressed with Obama, a bit disappointed even. I knew I'd be voting for him in both the primary and the general election, but I didn't feel I should donate, so I didn't.
Now that Hillary has become the presumptive nominee, I've gone ahead and donated to her today. And once she becomes the nominee at the convention, I'll give her some more.
I MIGHT even give her some more at or around Labor Day. It is THAT imperative that I do all I can to help keep Donald Trump from getting ANYWHERE near the Oval Office.
POLT
A people, a tongue, and a nation (Part 249)...
Luscious Licks
Today, we have an Outside Tongue!
And check out those abs and pecs while you're at it!
POLT
Rita Hayworth, gave good face (Part 208)...
Fetching Faces
Today, we have a VERY fetching face, outside.
But geez, check out those eyes!
POLT
I have to be Rainbow High, in magical colors (Part 10)...
Gay Pride Month!
Oh look! Anyone hungry! Rainbow Doritos!
POLT
Some boys kiss me, some boys hug me (Part 427)...
Frenching Fridays
This week, we have Outside Kisses!
POLT
Thursday, June 09, 2016
SO....
Well earlier in the year, I was trolling around Facebook (as you do), and looked him up there. Luckily, he's got an unusual last name. I sent him a friend request. It took a few days but he accepted it. We chatted there, then exchanged email addresses, and conversed that way.
And ohmygosh, the sex was so good! I dont remember him being that....enthusiastic before!
Some stuff.
Right now, the Carbonite backup is at 89%. Hopefully when I get home tomorrow night, it'll be done and I can start using the new computer. After 5 days, we're 9/10ths of way done.
************************
Yesterday, after work, I had my dentist appointment to get my crown put on. They took the impression back before i went to Toronto in early April. They probably had the crown back before now, but never called me to get it put on. And I could have called earlier, but I knew I had an appointment this past Monday for a cleaning, and I'd just ask them then. So he put it on today.
Had no problems with it. I was afraid it wouldn't really fit right, cause the old one didn't really fit right for a little bit. But this one fits perfectly! YAY!
************************
Ten to twelve years ago, I had a few hookups with this guy named Jason (see a bit about him HERE). We hadn't played together for years, at least seven for sure, because I've been in this house for seven years, and he's never been here.
Well earlier in the year, I was trolling around Facebook (as you do), and looked him up there. Luckily, he's got an unusual last name. I sent him a friend request. It took a few days but he accepted it. We chatted there, then exchanged email addresses, and conversed that way.
Well, Tuesday evening, he stopped by.
And ohmygosh, the sex was so good! I dont remember him being that....enthusiastic before!
Anyway, he doesn't live terribly closeby, but he has family near me. So hopefully, he'll be visiting that family more, so we can have a few repeat encounters!
*************************
So let's see what happened politically this week. Hillary officially wrapped up the Democratic nominee (#Imwithher). Bernie met with Obama, he said he'd work with her to defeat Trump. Obama endorses Hillary. Elizabeth Warren is set to endorse her later tonight. A pretty good week for her.
And Donald Trump? He makes racist comments about an American born and raised, Latino last named Federal Judge who is in charge of a civil case against The Donald. Showing his true colors and getting criticism from his OWN party members. Definitely NOT a good week.
I expect many many more weeks like this between now and November.
See, The Donald is VERY thin skinned, and he also just can't help blowing off at the mouth when he's in front of a microphone (which is nearly all the time). He over the next 5 months, he's going to have to guns trained on him of not only Hillary Clinton, but President Obama, Vice President Biden, Elizabeth Warren, Bill Clinton, and, come nest week after the DC primary and Bernie suspends his campaign, Senator Sanders as well.
Oh, it's going to be a thing of beauty. I've stocked up on the popcorn to enjoy the show.
**************************
Saturday is the DC Capitol Pride Parade! Yay!
I am traveling down for the day with my coworker StratCat and my fuckbuddy Derick. StratCat's cousin CC and her son Josh (who, I'm told, will be wearing crocheted booty shorts! Whaaa?) are getting a hotel room and spending the weekend there to enjoy not only the Parade, but the Festival on Sunday. Also, my friend (and cutie) Travis from Long Island (formerly known as Paul's Insanely Cute Boyfriend Travis) is coming down and getting a hotel room (in a different hotel) for the weekend as well. AND, it's possible my friend Diego, from NY (whom I've never met in person, but we've been talking on the phone since November) might be coming down from NYC for the Parade as well!
And somehow, I'm gonna try to get all the disparate people, in disparate locations around DC, all together at the same place and the same time, so we can watch the parade all at the same time, in the same place.
We'll see if I can pull all this off. It'll be a fun time regardless.
****************************
And so, hey, let's end this baby with some eye candy, eh?
UPDATE: Diego just called to confirm he's gonna be in DC for Pride this weekend! YAY!
POLT
POLT
You're the devil in disguise, that's why I'm dancing (Part 53)...
Cats Are Evil!
These Spawns Of Satan are evil even to the most loving animal on the face of the earth: a puppy!
EVIL!
POLT
Keeping it together, all in the family (Part 152)...
Gemini Guys
Today, we have a set of shirtless twins, and a puppy!
POLT
I have to be Rainbow High, in magical colors (Part 9)...
Gay Pride Month!
Today, we've got some rainbow puppies! Cuties!
POLT
You'll have to pay, which leg do you want (Part 105)...
Thursday Thighs
This week, we've got a nice set of wide open thighs, and a puppy.
POLT
Wednesday, June 08, 2016
What I need right now. is some good advice please (Part 15)...
Barker's Bits Of Puppy Philosophy!
POLT
Pink lemonade and elephants dear Jessie (Part 128)...
Real Men Wear Pink
They sometimes wear pink caps, when their lean and shirtless and looking away from the camera.
POLT
Rita Hayworth, gave good face (Part 207)...
Fetching Faces
Today, we've got a rather amazingly attractive face (check out that bone structure!) and a cap!
Very sultry....
POLT
Object of my desire, I'm walking on a wire (Part 39)...
Today I walked 3.33 miles in 55 minutes.
Seen on today's walk: 8th Street, towards the hill (for that view, see HERE).
POLT
Seen on today's walk: 8th Street, towards the hill (for that view, see HERE).
POLT
I have to be Rainbow High, in magical colors (Part 8)...
Gay Pride Month!
Today, we have a rainbow crosswalk.
This particular sidewalk is in Sweden, in front of the Russian Embassy. And it was colored in, supposedly, right after Putin had the vicious anti-gay laws passed a few years ago. Good move, Swedes, well played.
POLT
Cut their hair short, wear shirts, and boots (Part 432)...
Wife Beater Wednesdays
This week, we have Wife Beaters And Caps!
POLT
Tuesday, June 07, 2016
I used to live, in a tiny bubble (Part 1)...
SUDS
Today, we start a new segment: Suds. I've never been much of a fan of bubble baths, but after seeing some of these photos, it makes me reconsider. (for hot guys, even if not me)
Mmmmm, sudsy.....
POLT
A people, a tongue, and a nation (Part 248)...
Luscious Licks
Today, we have a totally naked tongue.
And a rather sexy batch of abs, pecs, nips and biceps too.
POLT
I have to be Rainbow High, in magical colors (Part 7)...
Gay Pride Month!
Today, we have a pair of rainbow undies....a pair that are rather tight and perhaps a size too small....although I am NOT complaining about the showing of the buns. Nope, not at all...
POLT
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