tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52873668892494857402024-02-19T04:02:20.596+00:00Eighty Eight to Present The happenings in a gay engineer's lifeEthanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.comBlogger96125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-69275639758283791442014-06-02T23:24:00.001+01:002014-06-02T23:30:50.941+01:00It's not the end...yet<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was surprised by how much blood was gushing out of my heart. I kept waking up in the middle of the night, like when you try to wake up from a nightmare except that I was waking up to the nightmare. Three o'clock. I decided to get up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I found a note pad and started writing. It took a while to get my thoughts in order but I only wrote down what absolutely had to be said. Seven o'clock. I headed out with the letter in an old, unused envelope. I wanted to get something from the store. A flower maybe (yes, cheesy but I was going all out on this). But I forgot the stores didn't open until ten on a Sunday...and I didn't want to wait.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The sun was shining but the residential street was still empty. Rob's bedroom curtains were still drawn so I knew he was still in bed. I walked up to the door as quietly as possible but his dog heard the footsteps and started barking. So I left the envelope in front of the door and walked away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I got home I tried to get some sleep again. There was nothing else to do. Church was definitely out of the question. My stomach was growling but I didn't want to eat. I felt like a zombie without purpose. I was ready to call in sick at work. I had never imagined that at the age of 25, I could still be in such a state because of someone. I was close to having a breakdown. What the fuck.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was drifting in and out of sleep and making meaningless groaning noises like a proper psychiatric patient. He should have read it by now. He is not going to talk to me. Every minute felt like an hour because of the pain. At midday, my phone buzzed. I jumped up to read his message.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hey Ethan, you are so sweet. This is nothing to do with anything you have said or anything you might have done. The L word as you put it came as a surprise but I'm old enough to deal with that :) You are a wonderful person well mannered, clever, polite, and bring a smile to my face every time I see you. Apologies for ignoring you. Please don't worry. I have a lot going on and I just need a little time to deal with some issues. I will explain soon. I'm probably going to go up to Scotland for a few days later in the week but will keep in touch. I hope that is ok. Feel free to message and I promise I will reply. Rob x</span></i></div>
Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-4284999608483126432014-06-01T01:05:00.000+01:002014-06-01T01:05:29.160+01:00I was going to post about a hook-up<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8Y45OfWhm8S9l50ysGZFSK5N3HcP6Lf4Go1yWZwXII2fCoSTYT3oHzzO4whthxinrrdnSGas4K7SVuDYfJe6ABofdiFk7a0JDiataZ2aZ6SOTnGXLe-oPbDGBoi8eSAkz9eVaVEE6i0C/s1600/202768D815E2EAABFA235212A404D51D_702_1053.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8Y45OfWhm8S9l50ysGZFSK5N3HcP6Lf4Go1yWZwXII2fCoSTYT3oHzzO4whthxinrrdnSGas4K7SVuDYfJe6ABofdiFk7a0JDiataZ2aZ6SOTnGXLe-oPbDGBoi8eSAkz9eVaVEE6i0C/s1600/202768D815E2EAABFA235212A404D51D_702_1053.JPEG" height="400" width="266" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">but I just realised I have messed up, when Rob ignored my fourth text in five days, and diverted my call to voicemail. It feels like my heart is being crushed by a ton of bricks. It feels like I have no strength in any of my bones.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't even know why I'm being ignored. His last text was "<a href="http://88topresent.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/when-is-it-right-to-say-l-word.html" target="_blank">see you tomorrow night x</a>".</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I think he is scared of entering another relationship with a much younger guy, who will one day leave him for someone else, or a life somewhere else. But he can't find the courage to tell me to go away either. He is far too nice to do that. I don't know what happened in his previous relationship except that they were together for seven years. I can only imagine the feeling of being single again after seven years. Can I promise that it would never happen again if we were together? No. But I would try my hardest, given the chance. I am not just saying.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All because I texted the fucking L word. I wish I hadn't done it. I wish after twenty minutes of looking at the words I had pressed "delete" instead of "send", though every word was genuine.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1M3mrFBSwHx686Vqvv1ji6shFXnAMFI3iUIC8SOHPlHbrRY6wqg-kM5VccsoV0NWIOtd4aNSy71IDrXN2QU894iAVSKBkmQBtbrNMBZpFi7xZXIEhE8OuqPYfmbpHerL9TlPmHNfb3FSm/s1600/blondbum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1M3mrFBSwHx686Vqvv1ji6shFXnAMFI3iUIC8SOHPlHbrRY6wqg-kM5VccsoV0NWIOtd4aNSy71IDrXN2QU894iAVSKBkmQBtbrNMBZpFi7xZXIEhE8OuqPYfmbpHerL9TlPmHNfb3FSm/s1600/blondbum.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's not fair to end everything like this, even if it is to end. Not after he has stared into my eyes and told me not to feel lonely again. A few months after we first met I tried to stop seeing him. But he pleaded for me to stay. Is this fair?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm not ready to give up. Not until he tells me he never wants to see me again. I will leave him a card tomorrow - that's the least confrontational way I can think of to let him know how I feel. Dear anyone reading this - if you think I'm being stupid, please post a comment! If you think I'm going about it the wrong way, please post a comment! I am so lost and deflated I don't know how I am going to sleep tonight.</span></div>
Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-73879643029434681542014-05-30T16:18:00.000+01:002014-05-30T16:18:59.454+01:00Look away. This post is GAY!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He said "see you tomorrow night" but I was once again let down by his promise. It seems to be a recurring theme and it always happens like this.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2z-Ue8lG73McpXYpcCub8NfwHkIjNHfawUucnyJbSPatcZXHpq3oJdcHUgAmq11IE7YVyWHqDDv1_D0iBzgZV0jlU54Led3D6Zw-tQVRaR3fr37wE08j_UYODt2rQ7_HcyN9G8r5_FZni/s1600/daddyontop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2z-Ue8lG73McpXYpcCub8NfwHkIjNHfawUucnyJbSPatcZXHpq3oJdcHUgAmq11IE7YVyWHqDDv1_D0iBzgZV0jlU54Led3D6Zw-tQVRaR3fr37wE08j_UYODt2rQ7_HcyN9G8r5_FZni/s1600/daddyontop.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I text him to say I'm coming over. He doesn't respond. I get annoyed. We don't speak/text for a week. I give up and say hi. He acts like nothing's happened.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I always find excuses for him like <i>he's just useless at texting</i>, or <i>he's busy with his friend staying over</i>. But the elephant in the room is that he couldn't care less about some kid who is only good for his physical needs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't like writing about this because I don't like to come across as the nagging, clingy type. I'm not. I just need to adjust my expectations from an older man who doesn't want to deal with dating either.</span></div>
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Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-10942486336296563472014-05-27T00:33:00.001+01:002014-05-27T00:38:08.191+01:00When is it right to say the L word?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyE_lgwooRnukcAkU1_nGFNbgJW42aLjl11kn0d0l7yOTG-mqF8iRa5RKPgTBQiaiUy0Jde9Gg53b-C0O-uLvzhPAdd4qoUdCXYTLnq5fW6h5r5DkSQ0cXmahINEbk99Y0HYB5leJL1iiG/s1600/michaelleonard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyE_lgwooRnukcAkU1_nGFNbgJW42aLjl11kn0d0l7yOTG-mqF8iRa5RKPgTBQiaiUy0Jde9Gg53b-C0O-uLvzhPAdd4qoUdCXYTLnq5fW6h5r5DkSQ0cXmahINEbk99Y0HYB5leJL1iiG/s1600/michaelleonard.jpg" height="297" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am terrified of saying the word "love", or "I love you". It's almost like popping the question with a knee down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At which point in a relationship should (or can) the L word be used? Is it when two people go from dating to a couple? Or not until you have had a few fights and you have accepted their flaws and the things they do that drive you insane but they will keep doing? Or only before you are about to propose something big like moving in together, getting married (or a threesome)?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Does it even need to be said anymore? I don't hear it that often in films, unless one of them is about to fall off a cliff and they just need to let the other one know, "that I love you. AHHhhhhhh..."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have been seeing Rob regularly, about once a week (only because his shift times make it difficult). He is getting better at returning my texts. But we still haven't talked about the whole "being together" thing, or what we are supposed to be. We are as noncommittal as it gets. If we were not more than twenty years apart, we could be celebrating our one year anniversary now. I would have met more than just one of his friends and he would have sat next to me at the annual company do last month. Yes, I worry about what my friends and everyone else would think. But I still want to be with him all the time, do things for him and make him happy. I think that roughly matches the description of "love". I don't just "fancy" him, as they say. Fair?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was going to see him tonight after his shift. He cancelled at the very last minute and suggested tomorrow night instead. "Tomorrow definitely :) xxxxxx" he texted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Xxx love you"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yes it was my cowardly way. I cringed as I typed it because it felt so cliched and *serious* (serious voice). It still took me twenty minutes to finally put my finger on the "send" button. Fuck.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Wow wasn't expecting that... Thanks:))) . See u tomorrow night x"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fuck...Ok you know what, that's fine. At least now he knows.</span></div>
Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-21481321718062839722014-05-12T23:48:00.000+01:002014-05-12T23:48:10.668+01:00Rocking the boat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It is safe to say that I have never been intimate with anyone for as long as I have with Rob. By intimate I mean fucking and spooning. No we don't fuck every time.</span><div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOT2OCcucEBmUYs0aAF9M4d2yPpaA7X9MFnkD1lN_vLaJwt3e75F3xJnxR1RgDzFuRf3wgLNyNXNyA9Jlx74m5TodrLLPOvyWgwbX7Gs-YKmTPktgw2w4D0vIj-G-Mxdg9TrI5CovIYRn/s1600/MetPS_26022012_0330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOT2OCcucEBmUYs0aAF9M4d2yPpaA7X9MFnkD1lN_vLaJwt3e75F3xJnxR1RgDzFuRf3wgLNyNXNyA9Jlx74m5TodrLLPOvyWgwbX7Gs-YKmTPktgw2w4D0vIj-G-Mxdg9TrI5CovIYRn/s1600/MetPS_26022012_0330.jpg" height="320" width="211" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A month ago I heard a 50 year old lady caller on the radio telling the host about her and her 25 year old boyfriend. I cringed and texted Rob about it as a joke. He asked, <i>does that mean you want to be my bf?</i> We toy with the idea from time to time but I always change the subject because I am scared of making commitments that could one day be false.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Earlier this month when I heard there was a chance I might have to relocate to Birmingham for work with my company, I realised that it would be difficult to leave Rob. He didn't say anything about it over dinner. <i>Birmingham is nice. You'd like it.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I think I have made the common young men's mistake and grown a bit attached. When I get to Rob's age, maybe I, too, will have accepted a way of life on my own with a couple of small animals and no one is indispensable. That's the difference between a 25 year old and a 40+ man.<br />
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Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-53088051110475170802014-05-11T11:24:00.002+01:002014-05-11T11:24:42.148+01:00All you cock experts out there<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">can you tell me whether this is a cut cock or uncut but with not much hood?</span></div>
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<br />Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-3488472000472573772014-04-12T12:03:00.000+01:002014-04-12T12:03:50.726+01:00I can ride any size, motherfuckers.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguagdiyehXF2bfRqNmBkTnV-SAECnh56l-Z7Htj1HGU5Pl0LpWeyUrpkRnqwGJfrBMWrhSGdRCRObFQJHbfXoY7w1k5s_7P1soom-7K4mukKEAK3lqNvCbsavhptUL1RaVvu0AGuxT6UM8/s1600/Biker+Max+Emerson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguagdiyehXF2bfRqNmBkTnV-SAECnh56l-Z7Htj1HGU5Pl0LpWeyUrpkRnqwGJfrBMWrhSGdRCRObFQJHbfXoY7w1k5s_7P1soom-7K4mukKEAK3lqNvCbsavhptUL1RaVvu0AGuxT6UM8/s1600/Biker+Max+Emerson.jpg" height="258" width="320" /></a>Finally passed my motorbike test this week so now I can legally ride on any two-wheeled machines! It is not easy to pass the test here, especially when you look like a racer boy. The examiner failed me the first time on something he could have marked as a minor. But hey, when you come across a dickhead and you are in a powerless position, you just have to learn to swallow (your pride) and have another go.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The muscles on my arms tensed in excitement as I peeled the L plates off my little Honda 125. But to be honest I am bored of it now and I am hungry for power. The black bike is a YZF-R6. It gives me a boner every time but I wouldn't be able to afford the insurance at the moment. Rob is dead against the lime green but I think Kawasaki's are sweet - even their smaller bikes look hot. My search continues...</span></div>
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Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-82477473030687332772014-04-02T23:13:00.002+01:002014-04-02T23:13:40.734+01:00The way he looked at me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHzNN9qJ7UBtvjBVBHFi35mIM4izWBolYZLXEfD6jy1IM_Aqw0_dzUcG9No1TTdaNeapEyq352TdceQj8ezrXwOhoV39sq1dG_2kiXPsSvUp6LHTuS_MxqFSnrUK1JSHyNe2WwO5y5U5MT/s1600/cockinasock.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHzNN9qJ7UBtvjBVBHFi35mIM4izWBolYZLXEfD6jy1IM_Aqw0_dzUcG9No1TTdaNeapEyq352TdceQj8ezrXwOhoV39sq1dG_2kiXPsSvUp6LHTuS_MxqFSnrUK1JSHyNe2WwO5y5U5MT/s1600/cockinasock.png" height="396" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">when I went the whole way and it was against the back of my throat.</span></div>
Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-82473281290747842952014-03-31T23:04:00.001+01:002014-04-12T12:13:50.563+01:00The most macho men on earth<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Gentlemen and gentlemen, I present to you the All Blacks Sevens team (who practically fucked us raw in the finals of the Hong Kong Sevens tournament)...</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">before they took their shirts off for the haka in torrential tropical rain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I think they like potatoes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm going to stand in the shower and imagine myself in a kiwi scrum after the haka.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">More: </span></div>
<h1 class="heading" style="background-color: #f8f8f5; box-sizing: border-box; letter-spacing: -2px; line-height: 38.4px; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.couriermail.com.au/sport/rugby/new-zealands-all-blacks-sevens-impress-on-and-off-the-field-with-shirtsoff-haka/story-fnii0ksb-1226869621207" target="_blank">New Zealand’s All Blacks Sevens impress on and off the field with shirts-off Haka</a></span></span></h1>
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Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-7423950693929733442014-03-23T22:44:00.001+00:002014-03-23T22:44:46.101+00:00Flight Lieutenant Dreamboat<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(via <a href="http://www.news.com.au/entertainment/celebrity-life/royal-australian-air-force-flight-lieutenant-russell-adams-is-the-talk-of-the-internet-after-leading-the-search-for-malaysia-airlines-mh370/story-fn907478-1226862359007" target="_blank">news.com.au</a>)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Royal Australian Air Force Flight Lieutenant Russell Adams became an instant internet celebrity after his image was broadcast around the world late last week during the search for Malaysia Airlines flight MH370.</span><br />
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<a href="http://resources0.news.com.au/images/2014/03/23/1226862/357640-4a4e113a-b1bc-11e3-8ffb-bdc84c71056c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://resources0.news.com.au/images/2014/03/23/1226862/357640-4a4e113a-b1bc-11e3-8ffb-bdc84c71056c.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Adams led the team aboard the RAAF P3 Orion that set out across the southern Indian Ocean to find the debris that could possibly belong to the missing plane.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But instead of finding the debris, he found himself a whole new legion of fans.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here are some of the things that have been said about Flight Lieutenant Russell Adams online in the past few days:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="s1">“Can we just take a moment to</span> appreciate Captain Russell Adams from the Australian MH370 search team.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I wonder when LEGO will release an exclusive minifig of Flight Lieutenant Russell Adams, AP-3C<span class="s1"> Orion SAR superstar”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="s1">“</span>Gosh that Australian Air Force guy Russell Adams on the news is a hottay mallottay!!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Captain Russell Adams from the Australian MH370 search team serving up Top Gun realness”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“In another country, he’d be a model. In Australia, he’s just Russell Adams ... pilot.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I’d like to debrief Russell Adams.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Not to detract from the search effort, but Flight Lieutenant Russell Adams is a hottie.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“If that Russell Adams from the Australian Airforce came to save my life I’d be one very happy bunny.”</span></div>
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Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-41167548914575395442014-03-16T01:10:00.000+00:002014-03-16T01:15:51.844+00:00Could have been my Facebook status<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jist of the story is, </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I went to fuck a lad (31) from Grindr. I wouldn't let him kiss my ears because it's too intimate. He took offence and I bolted. He slammed the door behind me. What the fuck is the deal with these gay boys.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunhv62g7BAGHKJJTDfO_ycrDaNetpsu8WaVpgpsuTzgr6Pcu-RkDgNiVdWQmcmrtArbc_wG1Kp-aMCffBSCUpVxfjzhAO2hAr44Sd2SDYoN1LcmvD9c4VboW2vBFEpUnc9d5CkI4e8WQX/s1600/gunbehind.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunhv62g7BAGHKJJTDfO_ycrDaNetpsu8WaVpgpsuTzgr6Pcu-RkDgNiVdWQmcmrtArbc_wG1Kp-aMCffBSCUpVxfjzhAO2hAr44Sd2SDYoN1LcmvD9c4VboW2vBFEpUnc9d5CkI4e8WQX/s1600/gunbehind.jpg" height="332" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Maybe I could have explained it in a more diplomatic way but he should have stopped trying to kiss my ears when I told him to stop for the third fucking time.</span></div>
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Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-84019063318016459272014-03-11T01:34:00.001+00:002014-03-11T01:34:44.415+00:00It's always someone's other half<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZycaGvqy0IjFjtHmwJ_-CgbQ9itIKm-U8-oZXvlJXMUUY5U9vUQYYiLty2T-QQgT80oym5gf18y-6YOXZAuDphqOrPpDl8ZE_7oCQ1p4IwqfAWiOkjYtZMCOtxvEEKiJmw-Vx_g0xzUBA/s1600/tumblr_meewj7mOVT1rosqkjo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZycaGvqy0IjFjtHmwJ_-CgbQ9itIKm-U8-oZXvlJXMUUY5U9vUQYYiLty2T-QQgT80oym5gf18y-6YOXZAuDphqOrPpDl8ZE_7oCQ1p4IwqfAWiOkjYtZMCOtxvEEKiJmw-Vx_g0xzUBA/s1600/tumblr_meewj7mOVT1rosqkjo1_500_large.jpg" height="320" width="228" /></span></a><i></i><br />
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<i><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hello mr. Did u get home safe on Saturday? On Sunday we went to Sheffield park. Lovely place</span></i></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just received this text from Mateo. The "we" refers to him and his partner.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's Saturday night. I am at a gay club with a friend. I have never been here before. A few more guys I know are coming too. Mateo and his partner James are here with their friends. I've known Mateo for nearly two years. He's an artist and he always makes me laugh with his Spanish ways. He is friendly and welcoming to everyone - he even invites his Grindr fucks to his birthday parties. All acceptable because he has a big, warm Spanish heart. I see Mateo every week but we are just friends. He is an attractive man (around 40, my height, groomed and VERY fit) but I never had any fantasies about him because he is with James who is also a nice, sweet man.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway, my friend and I head down from the bar to the dance floor. Mateo is already a bit drunk and sweating under his black shirt. James has gone home. I start getting warm and I am sweating too. The floor is all sticky from spilt drinks. Mateo is a dance machine. He dances with guys he knows and guys he doesn't know, swaying and thrusting. Then he comes to me, going down and up with the music, which makes me laugh. And he keeps coming around but I like it because he's a joker and a good dancer. Under the flashing lights and deafening music, he takes his shirt off and ties it around his waist. I cheer him on but he grabs the bottom of my T-shirt and takes it off too. I am dancing shirtless. I have never felt so gay. Mateo and I begin to fuse together. I feel him having a taste of the sweat on my neck. I run my tongue along his tricep when he dances with his arms up and he keeps them up for a bit longer, enjoying it. He gets very close to my face a few times and I think, whoa, is he trying to kiss me? To me, kissing means real attraction rather than just fun and games. Later on, when we have our clothes back on, we are still dancing and sweating. Mateo comes close again, with a big smile as usual. Very close. So close our noses touch. I approach slowly to give him a chance to back away but he doesn't. Our lips touch. We kiss and the kiss turns into a little snog - only very little like we are testing each other. Then he backs away and smiles and carries on dancing. I go to the bar for a drink with my friend, who tells me Mateo and James are in an open relationship and that I shouldn't feel guilty. Ok well, I never take him seriously anyway. I know he's having fun in his Spanish way. I just never knew he wanted to do that with me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We leave the club before the music stops and everyone starts leaving. I am getting a taxi with my friend and Mateo is walking back to his house. We say bye and Mateo looks at me, smiling. And he waits. I know what he wants so I walk up and we kiss again next to the taxi rank.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I think Mateo really likes you," says my friend.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"He just likes to have fun. I know him well enough."</span></div>
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Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-11800127144826692982014-03-04T01:03:00.001+00:002014-03-04T01:03:14.660+00:00Just happened to have a reason for posting this video<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Friend from work is leaving. He has remarried to a German wife and is moving to Germany. I will miss him because he is one of the few men who's really got his head screwed on but is never too serious. He is also a biker and one of the bikes he has is the same as mine in a different colour. Best of luck to him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/82741038" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(This video is from the facebook page of <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Baller-Boyz/524792640942354" target="_blank">Baller Boyz</a>)</span>Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-17075299332677873132014-03-04T00:46:00.000+00:002014-03-04T00:46:19.904+00:00A bit of pretentious, cultural blogging <div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTS3KKEO5bhsDCpPfd4TchZHeQ10iqeHtFsZwyGx_jxCNSo2UtPpjP86xTMFEvxOFKwfiQMHSbPuYpnibF0B8DcBLU-z9WFM-rzPVH2qXtAdKQg3nDOGYGPWbh-4jfCZbL78_2Zy2ArBX/s1600/tdm2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTS3KKEO5bhsDCpPfd4TchZHeQ10iqeHtFsZwyGx_jxCNSo2UtPpjP86xTMFEvxOFKwfiQMHSbPuYpnibF0B8DcBLU-z9WFM-rzPVH2qXtAdKQg3nDOGYGPWbh-4jfCZbL78_2Zy2ArBX/s1600/tdm2.jpg" height="320" width="214" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Punchdrunk's theatre production called "<a href="http://punchdrunk.com/current-shows" target="_blank">The Drowned Man: A Hollywood Fable</a>" is an adaptation of Woyzeck but is not like normal theatre. You physically follow the actors/dancers from one scene to another, from the bedroom to the bar and one floor to the next within the building. There is no stage - or you are with them on the stage. You can choose whichever character to follow and switch whenever you want, or just explore the sets yourself. There is no dialogue. Everything is expressed through dance, body movement, music and lighting.</span></div>
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It's been running since June last year so it's not news to any regular theatre goers. When I went to London to see it last Friday I was blown away by the details of the sets, the genius of different characters' own stories and the powerful body movements. It was set in the 1950's and all the decorations and props were real and solid. All dancers, male and female, were professionally trained and incredibly fit like gymnasts. This guy rolled down backwards from the roof of a car and made it look like a walk in the park. Another moved among poles (that were supposed to be trees) like a dance in mid air.</div>
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They don't mind showing off their perfect bodies either. One of the main characters was played by a hot red head and he was in a white vest throughout, except when he went to see the doctor and was ordered to take it off and to stretch his arms out sideways. Then the creepy doctor (who was also hot by the way) started teasing him by running the end of a stick from his hand to his chest and drawing on his abs. At the time I had no idea what the fuck was going on but I was loving it and wished he would keep doing it.</div>
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I have bought another ticket to go again because there are so many sets and characters I didn't even know existed until the final scene. I really recommend it if you get a chance to go (but do some research first so you don't end up still being in a state of lost and confusion after the first hour like I did). It's not too late!</div>
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Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-58815486352534481042014-02-23T21:36:00.001+00:002014-02-23T21:36:06.771+00:00He polishes well<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sochi's concluded. But I'm still catching up on the replays. I have to say snowboard cross is by far the best event to watch. And the bobsleigh is at the opposite end of the scale because you can't see what they are doing at all - they might as well be having a wank in the giant toy car. I still have a million questions about curling. Like, why are they always in such a hurry to clear the stones at the end? Anyhow, here are a couple of men curlers I enjoyed looking at.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Niklas Edin, 28 years of age, is the Swedish skip. He is not the tallest Olympian but littler guys tend to have more power packed into it. I want him to model for H&M, not Beckham.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Scott Andrews, 24, is the British second. He is engaged/married (BITCH!) but he can still come around to clean my floor.</span></div>
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Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-7766448812632474032014-02-23T13:48:00.003+00:002014-02-23T21:36:25.401+00:00Moan, boy...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE4_WsDx4I4QMusxbAq89B6SuBG7EC3lHTucCwhz0wsrxNBHbuT6aGUt62gofeHK3iAl_L7zB6n4Dnog7QPsEnC2OV3XtofZr1Ptws0Q5KRC7sJiL9riUVs-RyiV9hkxqU9sB7iWfdK-Om/s1600/IMG_1005.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE4_WsDx4I4QMusxbAq89B6SuBG7EC3lHTucCwhz0wsrxNBHbuT6aGUt62gofeHK3iAl_L7zB6n4Dnog7QPsEnC2OV3XtofZr1Ptws0Q5KRC7sJiL9riUVs-RyiV9hkxqU9sB7iWfdK-Om/s1600/IMG_1005.PNG" height="320" width="223" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Came across this blog called <a href="http://moaningmen.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">MoaningMen</a> where you can find audio tracks of...well, moaning men! I found myself oozing stickiness uncontrollably listening to some of the tracks. It is not any less horny than watching porn (which is sometimes quite boring) because you have so much room for imagination - another reason why I like listening to talk shows on the radio when I drive. I am not as vocal though when I shag - heavy breathing yes but no moaning. Keeping the noise down is a habit I acquired from university and the surrounding wooded areas. But I haven't lost the ability to use my vocal cord when necessary (like when it's fucking big!). Is moaning a turn-on for you?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiLb537p0W27i42t9hmNyIJ6MyO-FhynQb-F6JQhYAcOQh5p3lWJX12ReZ7mLQuHhmF8Kn37wcquolv4Fme9n3l602K1e2QTpA76jB6a_Eq6K35aHNxGIG2YfJjCdeVkZWX0coWuB76_y/s1600/nikesock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiLb537p0W27i42t9hmNyIJ6MyO-FhynQb-F6JQhYAcOQh5p3lWJX12ReZ7mLQuHhmF8Kn37wcquolv4Fme9n3l602K1e2QTpA76jB6a_Eq6K35aHNxGIG2YfJjCdeVkZWX0coWuB76_y/s1600/nikesock.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-49662447224705162772014-02-16T00:19:00.000+00:002014-02-16T00:19:43.040+00:00Light bulb moment<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_6brEs6dXQY69yXyDvR7gHMjvNoaJAjH_udyF7S3pky43fFxVKP4FYixSD5Y2YOOdYbSSA30qbt8u-2WiNrxaMyAVze1KKK2bkmCIwtTs7BoaqmrE0rnqa0DJKFILjhWJE2suUMH2jrL/s1600/swimandplay.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_6brEs6dXQY69yXyDvR7gHMjvNoaJAjH_udyF7S3pky43fFxVKP4FYixSD5Y2YOOdYbSSA30qbt8u-2WiNrxaMyAVze1KKK2bkmCIwtTs7BoaqmrE0rnqa0DJKFILjhWJE2suUMH2jrL/s1600/swimandplay.png" height="320" width="316" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There was a new guy in my lane today at swimming. We get one or two new members every month on average and people come and go for different reasons so the group has never grown significantly since I've been there. The previous addition a few weeks ago was a university student who almost looked underage. He is smaller than me. Dark haired, cute, black stud in his ear; small tattoos on his lean and toned body. He has the most typical 18 year old twinky-skater-boy-porn-star looks (and name). His perky ass is easy on the eyes but other than that I'm not interested. I have seen him rolling a cigarette after a swim. I don't understand why he bothers. (Probably forced to come by his boyfriend.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today's hottie is a 30-something who is bigger than our little porn star but still slightly shorter than me. You can tell he works hard in the gym from his strong but perfectly proportioned body. His pecs are more bulgy than the other muscle groups but I find it a great turn on because, really, the chest is the best place on a tight body for a bit of extra softness. Swimmers just don't get puffy pecs. He doesn't have washboard abs - I'm not into it anyway - but there is no fat around his waist. He is not bad looking either. Not the centre-of-attention kind of face but if I saw him in the supermarket I would go back an aisle to have another look. I keep stealing looks at his chest, legs and ass whenever we stop to listen to Coach. If he had a deeper voice and let his facial hair grow I would have accidentally backed up against his crotch.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDzq8Vb4U262VqCyMG5LhFeor4PEkrpys4K1eAZuz9bR4i36NM6IcoXGKZCuVGOezqC-kvaC-DFpRlImd1HzOk4Qi4BAr5iLBwt8pi6vG71tp2unrJAXaC9veYuXCgdMJ2u0eDPgxfPC5/s1600/roundpecs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDzq8Vb4U262VqCyMG5LhFeor4PEkrpys4K1eAZuz9bR4i36NM6IcoXGKZCuVGOezqC-kvaC-DFpRlImd1HzOk4Qi4BAr5iLBwt8pi6vG71tp2unrJAXaC9veYuXCgdMJ2u0eDPgxfPC5/s1600/roundpecs.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway, after training a few of us head to the pub for a drink. I don't normally go but I want to know more about this guy, who seems to be quite easy to talk to. So we have a drink, chat about swimming and holidays and shit. He's cool. His tenor voice makes him sound a little camp but he's not. Then I notice - the bloody ring on his ring finger. For fuck sake. He must have put it back on after swimming. And he is saying "we" are going to Sydney for a few weeks. Damn. I guess he will just become like the other two men I used to fantasise about but turned into good friends after finding out they were both happily attached.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then there is a light bulb moment. I think the problem is I like men at least <strike>five</strike> ten years older than me. But all the good guys would have found someone by the time they are in their thirties. So how this ever going to work?</span></div>
Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-39125137911439595372014-02-14T23:00:00.000+00:002014-02-15T00:36:29.656+00:00Happy days?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uhaOM6XvhAjlPEuqjO-aljt4WS3Uhqt8snEv5Qpox7rwIq-fcOivk4UVFdgZriT9INBxJ8ms1w_X4SFuWzOYD0Z6tx_MAS7gwlGreALDjnhskml3CjusEHOcvJlZwZcm7S0poU8938LK/s1600/gym883652_491690470888466_1718134975_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uhaOM6XvhAjlPEuqjO-aljt4WS3Uhqt8snEv5Qpox7rwIq-fcOivk4UVFdgZriT9INBxJ8ms1w_X4SFuWzOYD0Z6tx_MAS7gwlGreALDjnhskml3CjusEHOcvJlZwZcm7S0poU8938LK/s1600/gym883652_491690470888466_1718134975_o.jpg" height="198" width="200" /></a></div>
I found myself in the gym again on Valentine's evening. No dates. So why not? I don't feel left out - or no more than the other 364 days.<br />
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The wind is howling outside. The headlines this week have all been about the ongoing storms and floods in the country. The States is also covered in snow and it's so hot in Australia you could spontaneously combust. This climate change thing is getting down to business.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZUC3TpUupnGUuzUEof2TLlj7ohV9g_NcDc2t7jjqSRsO_2OeJ6rp1dF_1CWcEDQIKC4MqZG30dNLypPp08RnBxGVzl7le03Z_eQnJUFxArntr0XsrW3M8jRqroXxoGC117ig7XpDGibU/s1600/lockerroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZUC3TpUupnGUuzUEof2TLlj7ohV9g_NcDc2t7jjqSRsO_2OeJ6rp1dF_1CWcEDQIKC4MqZG30dNLypPp08RnBxGVzl7le03Z_eQnJUFxArntr0XsrW3M8jRqroXxoGC117ig7XpDGibU/s1600/lockerroom.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-88710087445524125032014-02-11T10:22:00.000+00:002014-02-11T10:22:28.226+00:00"Hi."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfDexNF_OqYthqOIv0Hn0gsjqNlJfEr63Vn_skEYWpDg3xWTuV3BwGjl_BkA76kbXwU4mF_MdBnbmMvLy59jKgum_8Tv1T1NFRoyTRtK-5DChQDZStxZD_xvEM8uX0udBYTovZD3a45s0V/s1600/blue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfDexNF_OqYthqOIv0Hn0gsjqNlJfEr63Vn_skEYWpDg3xWTuV3BwGjl_BkA76kbXwU4mF_MdBnbmMvLy59jKgum_8Tv1T1NFRoyTRtK-5DChQDZStxZD_xvEM8uX0udBYTovZD3a45s0V/s1600/blue.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hi Brad,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How are you? :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I saw you last night, in my sleep. You were only a few feet away but you didn't see me. I stood there, wanting to call but there were people around you. I was a bit scared.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am doing great. It's good in a way to be back to the work routine and work is actually not too routine. You are on my mind every day. I don't think about it - but there is always something that makes me think of you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Take care</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yours</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ethan xxx</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">*</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He never replied. He wants me to just forget about him.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgeNWgYFDRg3LQV6Sa5GPXU1QPflT0htfrvB2qFwMZOIuDNJc1y3mtCMOFEKuRd7KA3OIR3hBlDIu38E-8kmTOQsVZAwACwRStQek9TKFAQhOoNa3smxw_LyvR-fWDq_8cAdDr9tnB3iGr/s1600/smooth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgeNWgYFDRg3LQV6Sa5GPXU1QPflT0htfrvB2qFwMZOIuDNJc1y3mtCMOFEKuRd7KA3OIR3hBlDIu38E-8kmTOQsVZAwACwRStQek9TKFAQhOoNa3smxw_LyvR-fWDq_8cAdDr9tnB3iGr/s1600/smooth.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have come to terms with the fact that our week together was just...a moment when two parallel lives intersected. My feelings were real but I was not in a position to ask for anything more. I only sent the email to provoke a response. He couldn't even reply to tell me what's been going on in his life - like I were a healing wound that he knew not to touch. He is a softie. I will leave him alone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Or did it happen the other way round?</span></div>
Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-56406362269513377102014-02-09T01:58:00.003+00:002014-02-09T02:13:23.815+00:00I am not ageist but...<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This guy is about a year younger. He spoke to me on Grindr first but he only goes online once or twice during the week. Then we start chatting on Whatsapp. His profile picture on there is even cuter - makes me want to park my cock in his ass. But our conversations never touch on that - all I know is he wants to go down on me.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij5OhU4paVQN3tfxUjbmC8srOsgFHfu07hMl6F0tJxPpaDgZ2w3vJK61AdHTvCk3Yp58RMAxzI0Ccjs_jhzSFE4D0tCy_GFN8Vp2waEf0MoWlQLKrv8KGwQfmLUtvFYEeklAVYpPEhm8Ld/s1600/IMG_0936.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij5OhU4paVQN3tfxUjbmC8srOsgFHfu07hMl6F0tJxPpaDgZ2w3vJK61AdHTvCk3Yp58RMAxzI0Ccjs_jhzSFE4D0tCy_GFN8Vp2waEf0MoWlQLKrv8KGwQfmLUtvFYEeklAVYpPEhm8Ld/s1600/IMG_0936.jpg" height="320" width="232" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He works in the office block next to mine. We have checked each other out at the gym down the road. He is about my height, with a bit more weight on (which is cute and makes him more approachable). A week later when I see him at the gym again, I say hi on the way out. He is on the legs machine. Later on, he texts me to say he had a boner when I talked to him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few days later, we finally meet up after work, at mine. He is the typical boy next door - a PS3 gamer, smokes a bit after a few drinks, ear piercing, a bit young and reckless. We start feeling each other up. We kiss and undo each other's work trousers. He has a nice hard cock about the same size. Then Cock play, stripping, sucking. You know the dance. I quite enjoy the kissing just because he's nice to look at. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8aKZ0rc8Ktr3j58W2bUNQYXfDCRLeUOF2g3jK1nk2bhvH6IJ3NfaBq_aeC0uHLePEivxK_O_VyOiGd8sqoBgKh__7IkjmYtAKMmITv4KBCB0OmbJoEqv33vYvnZ467rlizQReCAMxv_a/s1600/IMG_0937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He is keen on sucking and stroking, sometimes both at the same time. I thought I was good with my mouth but I don't seem to be giving him the same level of pleasure. "Tickle my balls," he says. I follow the instructions with the other hand that is not on his cock, and he approves, laying on his back. He gets me closer to the tipping point and I go faster on his - I want to make him cum first. He must be close too. He takes over from me but I keep the tips of my fingers on his balls. He warns that he is going to make a mess. He blows and it all landed safely on his stomach. White, average load. I wipe a bit off to put on my cock as lube and I am pumping away again. My ab muscles tense and I shoot. I get his neck and there are a few more wet trails on his body. "I think you win, mate" he almost chuckles. Yeah well, I probably had a better angle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I throw him a towel. We get dressed and get out of the flat together. I feel a little light headed but I still have to go back to the office to sit in a presentation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He seems fun to play with but that's it, unfortunately. I have already looked past the fact that he smokes (though only socially). But I still can't connect with him like I connected with <a href="http://88topresent.blogspot.com/2013/12/to-be-continued.html" target="_blank">Brad</a>. The age gap is much wider than the difference in time between when we came into the world.</span></div>
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Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-76059768715625912122014-02-01T00:15:00.001+00:002014-02-01T00:15:51.777+00:00I am still a growing boy<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX-RuZNo2RXHtVM2iAThJRs_mDP3Ln4qlX4yaNEnECb9mFcV-aStqK87fBfWtLaBuCngPGS5B6V7_KoYITndda-VBsdlbiLclVHcDkHPSY9R4aE3m-3kiCeEGhG9vubYNeauUmEah5Fv5F/s1600/pit_brendenachtemichuk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX-RuZNo2RXHtVM2iAThJRs_mDP3Ln4qlX4yaNEnECb9mFcV-aStqK87fBfWtLaBuCngPGS5B6V7_KoYITndda-VBsdlbiLclVHcDkHPSY9R4aE3m-3kiCeEGhG9vubYNeauUmEah5Fv5F/s1600/pit_brendenachtemichuk.jpg" height="200" width="132" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">According to the weight tracking app I have gained around 10 lbs over the last six months. Is that a lot or not? I don't see any change physically although a few guys from the swimming club have commented. But now I believe because my shirts are becoming too tight and I need to get some new ones.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: center;">I have never gained weight like this for years. It's like a second growth spurt. My cat has bulked up a bit too. But he's young and he runs like mental all the time so he'll work it off.</span> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNtlqh3AVcAtQL44r33dsbdj4M_FIpqEj3AzCpaiV_w-H-zUEaw4cw37iWtvEmpJeOLmW1JG3DsTVw8klh2rP3AW8tjMU5WqdBa9hc79m57jviUZ00IvgCYiF23kE5kFNxEh0qHmC14_2/s1600/pepperoninipples.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNtlqh3AVcAtQL44r33dsbdj4M_FIpqEj3AzCpaiV_w-H-zUEaw4cw37iWtvEmpJeOLmW1JG3DsTVw8klh2rP3AW8tjMU5WqdBa9hc79m57jviUZ00IvgCYiF23kE5kFNxEh0qHmC14_2/s1600/pepperoninipples.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a></div>
Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-40408232314228756722014-01-28T17:58:00.003+00:002014-01-28T17:58:46.946+00:00Busted!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who would you go for, Dan or Tom?</span></div>
Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-77174642361558220452014-01-28T00:06:00.003+00:002014-01-28T00:06:23.527+00:00I am NOT turning into a gay whore<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAXQNTLKSgtqys6OnZWchGkjxRTdTStFGZquXJRJ57MybXa75zn5GYfHd3vHH9q5uJevt1hpcTicrSwDPO6CDhYPTi306MurN-H1Ht6GM9YRn5hX5ZbiOYsBV38L0KP10U5jbTPS179xmN/s1600/james.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAXQNTLKSgtqys6OnZWchGkjxRTdTStFGZquXJRJ57MybXa75zn5GYfHd3vHH9q5uJevt1hpcTicrSwDPO6CDhYPTi306MurN-H1Ht6GM9YRn5hX5ZbiOYsBV38L0KP10U5jbTPS179xmN/s1600/james.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I go to the high street area in town after work and need to go for a slash (honest). I end up in a cubicle with a silver fox. I reckon he is the BMW saloon type. His cock is smaller and softer than mine but thicker. I stroke, suck and stroke some more and he comes, hard. He takes a moment to catch his breath, to clean up the cum all over the toilet seat. Then I squirt all over it again.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKBFtBNVwNmW7azAa5ylNTkTR7bH0Tw7PgEhXUSowQtLZybJRIEQGeF98TMaQZyrQnUiA0QARLGqCn_23Wzs8GkHhyphenhyphen5-0mDjYHRPZczLyX82Zbt248_Y9owCIakgJAfGv2Vpp1WDUMmIRi/s1600/poppers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKBFtBNVwNmW7azAa5ylNTkTR7bH0Tw7PgEhXUSowQtLZybJRIEQGeF98TMaQZyrQnUiA0QARLGqCn_23Wzs8GkHhyphenhyphen5-0mDjYHRPZczLyX82Zbt248_Y9owCIakgJAfGv2Vpp1WDUMmIRi/s1600/poppers.jpg" height="112" width="200" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I finally decide to get myself some poppers (the five as shown). It's only for my private pleasure - I almost never invite guys around and if I do I would never reveal my popper-sniffing side.</span></div>
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Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-83639653280245779512014-01-17T23:00:00.000+00:002014-01-17T23:00:08.880+00:00Overseas perving<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Can I just draw your attention to these sizzling hot men please:</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.afc.com.au/gallery/2014-01-16/beach-session#c85f672c0b693410VgnVCM100000976bb70aRCRD" target="_blank"><img alt="AFC Beach Session" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioE4YCL8sQzkCKVKQk5f4jukiDGZIpjWjWe0tewCZxAi9v9gAsKs-4CbAHNqP0zjxcVfIvhAgDVq4ChRZzf9wlQzO7OOG6wYJiTAjnFIRMmyI9UcrqN3Rot05a_kYN9nUF2mN_Hng1JRJT/s1600/310836-tlsgallerylandscape.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They are the Adelaide Football Club, not playing a lot of football. But definitely giving me a stiffy. (Photo linked to the entire gallery for your perving pleasure. You're welcome.)</span>Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5287366889249485740.post-43880945935669753412014-01-01T00:31:00.001+00:002014-01-01T00:31:39.727+00:00Hey, you!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVojgbqx0c8hMAXFjeX0kkmyuil36nBIRVfTYtjoMhSbNZRmct4a19Mh6hHZaTDBvciXADaz22me-LWSuBC8Tx2MYCL5cq_OE9Ms8DWyXM7cSEDiRtuRRM3vsgdvAW_v9xzam5NvqkS-b4/s1600/you.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVojgbqx0c8hMAXFjeX0kkmyuil36nBIRVfTYtjoMhSbNZRmct4a19Mh6hHZaTDBvciXADaz22me-LWSuBC8Tx2MYCL5cq_OE9Ms8DWyXM7cSEDiRtuRRM3vsgdvAW_v9xzam5NvqkS-b4/s400/you.jpg" width="366" /></a></div>
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Happy New Year.</div>
Ethanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14618665420305083124noreply@blogger.com1