Men weren't designed to read things. Period. Be it a road sign, a book of assembly instructions, or even how to operate the washing machine, men don't like to read. Most men will just dive right into something with all guns blazing, and only after several failed attempts will they sheepishly say "Hmm..okay just pass me the instructions - maybe they're doing it differently". To me, instructions for assembling furniture are the worst. There's always a rod, socket, pole, or screw involved, and frankly by the time you go through the damn thing, you feel like you've just read a chapter of the Karma Sutra - "Insert rod C firmly into hole D and screw tightly" Can you possibly read that sentence with a straight face?

Today I hooked up with this chap who had sent me a few photographs last week to see if I wanted to meet him. He seemed reasonably intelligent and was actually quite cute, with a slim figure to boot. So I said yes, and made my way over to his place. This is kind of where the twilight zone kicked in - once I actually got to his place and he opened the door, I was greeted by a man in his mid 30s, with protruding belly, wearing a singlet and grey spotted VIP Frenchie underwear. If there ever was a time where I wished God would hate me for being gay and strike me with a lightning bolt, this was it. And going back to my previous post about how I loathe body hair, when this guy actually took his kit off, I felt like I was going down on freaking Diana Ross.

I think I've died and gone to gay heaven. - I'm totally excited about a new store that I've discovered, called dklozet. Talk about some saucy stuff!

Oh btw, I've added a fancy new rotating header image thingy to the site - do you likey my kittens?

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