Santa Saturday Rocks!

This just in from the annual event hosted by the Bucks MC down in New Hope... me!

Okay. It was chilly. In years past, at the Cartwheel, it was pretty much contained by tents or downright indoors, so the only time the cold weather was a problem was waiting for the long, long, long line to get in to move you to the door. This year, at the Raven, it was more of an indoor/outdoor event.

My wardrobe inspiration was to wear the wetsuit singlet my Sir gave me. I had it on, and it looked great, but at the last minute I reconsidered. Instead, I opted for my neoprene uniform shirt and pants from Nasty Pig. Alas, neoprene does nothing in the way of heat retention, but I was slightly warmer than I would have been running around in a singlet. And I was cold most of the time. Even colder than I was at Dore Alley in SF. And that's cold!

But I kept a stiff upper lip, and solicited offers to 'keep me warm' from several of the hot men in attendance. Another thing to love about bears: they keep you warm!

And everybody was there. Great to see all those guys so much. At the risk of... ...whatever, I'm gonna go on record as saying that my exile here in the howling wilderness makes me realize that I love these men, my fellow travelers on this leather odyssey. Truly I do. I'm nourished and sustained by seeing them a few times a year, odd as that may be. Being greeted by a hot man decked out in leather by name, wearing a big welcoming smile on his face... it's the tonic I need to live.

But there was one tragic thing: no meatball sandwiches! Those amazing, amazing meatball sandwiches were not to be found this year. Just hotdogs and sausage sandwiches. I made do with hotdogs (of course the Bucks MC had saur kraut!), and when I asked, I was told that the meatball sandwiches were a bit too messy last year. I hearby offer to help with clean-up if it would mean their reappearance next year. But, hotdogs were only $2, so I had like five of them. With saur kraut and mustard, just the way I like'em.

All the action, though not much in the way of warmth, was in one big tent this year. By 'action,' I'm referring to the auction and drag show. I tend to tune this out. Having been reared in the midst of the East Village drag scene of the late '80s and early '90s, the whole glamorous show tunes thing doesn't move me much. Not demented and twisted enough for my tastes. And the auction items mostly seem to consist of granny afgans. There must be a crocheting fool in the ranks of the Bucks MC, who at this moment is working away at his granny afgan offerings for next year.

But at one point, I heard the MC announce that the next item up for auction was a set of irons, wrist and ankle, and the accompanying allen wrench. I think the last words I heard before I lost consciousness were, "and it looks like pretty good welding on these."

My sincere apologies to all the guys who were unfortunately In My Way as I made my way to the auction area. I hope your injuries weren't too severe, and that you received medical attention without too much of a delay.

The bidding started at $10. Ten dollars for a beautiful set of shackles and leg irons! I decided that my absolute limit would be $40. My bid of $45 almost held. But up it went. I walked away with them for $60. Now, that's $60 that I can't afford right now, but it seemed clear to me that A.) I was never again in my life going to have the opportunity to obtain a set of irons for $60, and B.) my father and I have plenty of leftover turkey so I won't be spending that much on groceries this week. So there!

And here's an interesting phenomenon: not sure what my horoscope read this week, but it seems to be the Time Of Men With Large Penises Taking A Strong Interest In Me. Last night, I got the jump on Santa Saturday (most out-of-towners arrive on Friday) and headed down to the Raven. And ended up having a great night in room 159 of the Best Western with a guy from Connecticutt who had one of the largest I've ever... uh... accommodated.

And then today, tit was brought to my attention (ahem) that two of the men who were "keeping me warm" at the event had just either unbelieveably substantial pieces on them, or they were doing the Spinal Tap thing with zucchini. And, one of the zucchini guys is local! So even if I don't run into him tonight during Round Two, I'll meet up with him again at some point. Hopefully.

I've never been much in the way of a size queen. All I have to offer is a standard issue six (same as John Dillinger, from what I've read). And since that hole of mine is tight as a snare drum, I've never paid much attention. To me, they're all big. But after last night's Olympic challenge, I'm sort of feeling as though I want to see just how far I can take this. Or, how deep I can take this might be a better way of putting it. No big deal. Not a convert to that particular cult. It's just a phase.

But here's the really great thing. The sex last night was just soooo pleasant. Not frought. Not anxiety producing. Just enjoyable. Just a sweet and sweaty time with another man. And it's been a really long time since I had that. Since I was able to just turn off all those clamoring voices of self-doubt and baseless fears in my head and enjoy it.

I think I probably have Horowitz to thank for some of that, after the scene he orchestrated for me at Inferno. Just let it all go and enjoy. I'll try to remember that.

And.. and... I totally fell in love with the guy. Not in a creepy Let's Be A Stalker way. Just letting my imagination envision a new future for myself. Cuz he is a great guy. In addition to being good in bed and verrrrry hot--and the zucchini situation--he was an absolute sweetheart. Lots of laughter punctuated our time together.

I decided that if I spent one more minute in those damn drafty, cold tents that it was time to go, so I headed to my jeep. I stopped on the way home at the Giant supermarket in New Hope to pick up leeks, carrots, and pot pie noodles to make turkey-leek stew for my father for dinner tonight. Only one person in the supermarket gave me a look to indicate that there was anything irregular about somebody shopping for produce dressed like a stormtrooper if stormtroopers wore neoprene.

Anyway. Gotta get that soup on. My turkey stock is absolutely sensational! Yesterday morning, the Baron and I chatted while I reduced it and clarified it with the Ol' Egg White Trick. It's so thick you could probably walk on it, and this wonderful rich brown color. Wish me luck tonight, both with dinner and with finding a hot man on a cold November night.

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