Nice. So after finishing the reconciliation of the GMSMA check book (only bank statements and the general ledger remain), I headed into Manhattan to do the gym thing. Today was legs and forearms day. It's sort of an easy day, in that there's not much you can do with legs and forearms, so I always do my best to blast both of them. My other two gym days (arms and chest day and back day) tend to get the attention, and when I go irregularly as I've been doing lately, legs and forearms day can suffer. So, I haven't done l. and f. in weeks. So tonight I really went to town.

After the gym, I was mad hungry. I went to Bennie's Burritos for a quesadilla grande with black beans. (No one I know will ever see me eat a quesadilla grande at Bennie's. I am so unbelievably obsessive-compulsive about it. Every forkful has to have a heap of the quesadilla, with a glob of guacomole, and surmounted by a half of a jalapeno pepper. Every one. When I run out of either jalapenos or guacamole, I stop eating. I wonder if as I age that will creep up on me and those weird dining rituals will take over every meal. Hope not. I like sharing a meal with a friend. I'd hate to have to eat alone always so people don't find out what a freak I can be.

Anyway, I'm sitting there eating and reading my book (the Seven Pillars of Wisdom by T.E. Lawrence, aka Lawrence of Arabia). Sometime I'll have to quote at length from the book. Every chapter seems to include some description of the unnatural vices of the Turkish Army or the Arabs or someone, and I loved the part about how the Arab troops were so starved for the adrenaline rush of battle that they'd whip each other for fun.

Lawrence, in case you didn't know, was a huge masochist and whipping bottom. Somewhere once I saw a photograph of him astride a motorcycle wearing leather, looking for all the world like James Dean in the Wild One, only the photo was taken in 1924 or something. He's probably the historical personage I'd most like to whip, just because he is beyond a doubt the historical personage that I am sure would enjoy it the most.

Anyway, so I'm eating and reading about how the Turkish troops gave each other syphillus in the ass when this hot man walks by and catches my eye. And then he walks by again. And then I was done eating (the jalapenos gave out), paid my check, and there he was on Greenwich Avenue talking on his cell phone. I walked by him, smiling as I did so. He caught up to me and said I was a really hot man, and he had seen me several times before, notably shopping for whips at the Leatherman.

Well, that was kind of all he needed to say. But he went on to tell me that he lived in Jersey City. So I gave him a ride home. And he asked me upstairs. He explained that he thought it would be hot to be 'told what to do' and that I looked like I would be up for that. So I told him what to do. Then, using my web belt, I bound his hands behind his back. Then gave him some more orders. I came. Then I jerked him off, his hands still tied, while I spit in his mouth. He told me that that was the first time in three years that he had sex without partying first. So, I felt pretty good about that, especially after he told me that he worked at party central, namely a certain sex club run by a certain gay cable television personality. I refer to the place as the House of the Rising Sun, as it's been the ruin of many a poor boy, and I'm glad not to be one.

And now I'm back home. Tomorrow, I'm headed up to Rindge, New Hampshire ("Rindge: not just another pretty name"). There are these two very hot men who I've had an email correspondence with for a while now. They've invited me up--with my whips and my dog in tow. Just an overnighter. One guy is Native American. He flagged me down as I mention my 'Shamanistic approach to S/M' in one of my profiles. He's all about that. Should be verrrry interesting. Mebbe we'll do a sweat lodge.

Oh. And it was sunny and warm today. Finally.

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