Awnry. Again.

Ran into Farmer Guy at Starbucks. He really is easy on the eyes. He was scruffy today. Loved that. He's soon gonna be busy putting in peas. Then cabbage, radishes, and all of those early Spring crops.

Fuck man. I want him.

Thinking about the weird gay cruise thing at work today. Just sort of wondering 'now where did that come from?' I think it has something to do with turning forty.

This is odd. I've never minded getting older. I've welcomed it. I feel, truly, that I get better as I get older. But perhaps for the first time, I'm hearing Time's wing'd chariot drawing near.

"The gave is a cool and pleasant place, but none, I believe, do there embrace."

Mebbe that's why I'm so horny lately. Just what all did I glimpse during the scene with PunchPig last Wednesday? Perhaps it was a reminder of what really good play is, and how I'm not getting a lot of that out here in the hinterlands. Hell, when was the last time I whipped a man? I don't remember. No whipping this year at Inferno, so it must have been before then.

Out of my musings on the Big 4-0 at work today came a decision. I've gotta sit down with my father and have a talk. He's starting to get whiney when I head out on my various adventures on the weekends. And that's gotta stop. My message to him: Dad, I'm not getting any younger. I'll have plenty of time to sit home on Friday nights and watch television in a decade or two, but not now. Not yet.

After I took their Personality Test, I signed onto match.com. (Spurred on, no doubt, by the verrrry flattering portrait painted by the results of my personality test.) The site is geared towards relationships. I thought I did a nice job on my profile, but I received email yesterday that it was rejected. I talked about leather, I talked about favoring whipping, flogging, chain bondage, piss, and fisting in my S/M play. Probably had something to do with it.

When I received their email, my gut was, 'well fuck'em.' But now, I'm reconsidering. Maybe I should work up a more carefully worded profile, more palatable to vanilla perusers of match.com.

No no no. Wrong wrong wrong. Dumb move. Bad to even think that.

*sigh*

And I've been thinking a lot about Special Guy lately. I wonder how he's doing in San Francisco. I wonder if his cell phone number still works. I guess I could call his parents and ask for his contact information. Track him down. Maybe for the week I'm off in July I could head to San Francisco instead of San Diego.

Yeah, I know I've always had an aversion to san Francisco. San Fried Psycho. So many annoying people over the years have done me a big favor by getting out of my hair and moving there. Yeah yeah yeah. But I could spend some time with my buddy Hooved Goose, and see Special Guy. And check out the city. That cold, gay, leftist, Tina-feuled city.

Geez it would be great to see Special Guy again. I don't doubt that I've been replaced.

I'd like to tell him, well... I already have actually... that there's never been anyone like him in my life. And I'm coming to believe that there never will be again.

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