Pipecleaner Glasses

If ever you needed confirmation that my friends and I have the maturity of a perverted 9 year old, here it is.

Oh, the amazing things one can create with only pipe cleaners.

Completely unfair - she looks so much better with them than me.

I resign to either touching my nipple erotically or fake masturbating

Oh, the magical things one can make with popsicle sticks and laughter.

Pick a number to get your fortune.
(I hadn't seen one of those for years and years!)

Xav: I must choose carefully, because it will be my destiny...

Oh wow, he lucked out.

"You banged 42 dwarves (and they were hermaphrodite dwarves)"

On my attempt: I'm either being a little humble (ONLY 27 inches?) or my Mom has a big fan-base.

THE END

(I promise a real post tomorrow)

Boobies

Every so often, when I drink a huge amount of alcohol, I get inappropriate. I don't mean the normal verbally-rude or blatant shit-talker, nor the inconsiderate guest or flash-everyone-my-privates-inappropriate. Those are all quite fun and, by my friends' and my own standard's pretty normal. The type of inappropriate I'm talking about is when I start to molest my female friends' boobies.

It starts off innocuously: We're all laughing and drinking. One of my lady friends is sitting next to me or on me. Maybe I'm practicing my gangs signs (below). Everything is normal.


Then, when she least expects it, WHABAM - Hands all over boobs!


At first, it's all just a funny joke. Someone takes a picture and my friend isn't offended because she knows I'm gay so it's not like I'm getting off on all of this.

But, then my wandering hands keep going....And this is when everything gets fuzzy. I never remember fondling my friend's boobs. The alcohol and my poor inhibition control can be blamed for this. Typically, it's only the next day that someone informs me:
"You were going pretty wild all over her chest yesterday."

Of course, I feel bad when I hear this because if I can't remember ever doing it I wonder what else I can't remember, such as maybe the owner of said breasts yelling "Stop fucking molesting me!". I'm lucky, because that's never happened. Why hasn't it happened? Well I consistently always fondle 2 women's chests: the girl in the above picture and Liz. Liz tells me she has had to slap my hands away because I get too "investigative", but the other (nameless) girl seems to just go with it. Since we all know each other well, no police are called!

Naturally, I always do this with a crowd around. My straight guy and lady friends are always watching. Tim likes to remind me that he has even yelled out:
"God, why does he get to touch your boobs and not me!? I'm ssooooo good at it!"

Ironically, my friend in the picture above says plenty of straight guys can't touch her as well as I can, which honestly unsettles me a bit.

Kieran likes to remind me that most of the time when I start fondling the boobies, I use the line:
"This is only for empirical research!"

Forgetting about the potentially unfortunate molestation charges I could receive one day, I wonder why I do this? It's not like I want to experiment with women. When I figured out I was gay a long time ago, regardless of how closeted I was I didn't want to even try to fool around with the opposite sex. I don't think I get off on it - of course I'm also drunk enough that I never remember this happening. But honestly, I really doubt I'm looking for a titty-fuck...

For the time being, I've kind of reasoned that I do it just to entertain everyone else, since I love to get attention (in my situation of choosing) and I always want everyone to have fun. Hopefully I'll grow out of it or grow out of getting hammered, but really I doubt that second one will be happening soon.

Purple Man

I'm sure you all remember the YouTube video "Shoes", with the main character named Kelly right? It was hit a huge hit a little over a year ago. The main actor/director guy also made a bunch of other videos, using the same character, called "Text Message Break-Up" and "Let me Borrow that Top".

OK, I'll give you a few minutes to jump on over to YouTube to check out the video again. No, I'm not going to post those up here...

No really, I don't mind waiting, I'm not hurt at all...

...I'll still be here....

...waiting...

...all on my lonesome...

...

OK! You're back now, perfect.
Alright, so do you remember that purple-leotard, with a cape guy? He liked to gyrate his hips when he appears in the videos?

Ya, him!

Well, the same creator of Kelly decided to make 3 mini-videos, just featuring this guy. He's a super hero performing very unimpressive feats. I love the videos because the purple guy is so weird and the other characters give him such awkward looks. A little part of me wishes I owned a purple leotard and cape...

So in the spirit of my previous post on movies, I've linked the 3 Purple Man Superhero videos below. I doubt they've been over-featured on the net yet, so enjoy.

Good Things to Watch #2

Since the last "Good Things to Watch", I've seen a few movies that I definitely liked. So I thought I would post them up here.


Boy A, simultaneously found on my own, recommended by a blog reader and given high-praise by Liz, is a British movie that's been doing the circuit of film festivals. It's a really touching drama, about a 25 year old who has just been released out into the real world, after living a life confined away from anyone else. With a new identity and coach, he tries to adjust to the world around him, without ever having gotten all that experience socializing and growing up as a kid or a teenager. As with all movies like this, his past comes back to get him.


It's impossible not to fall for the main character - he's incredibly cute, shy and good-hearted. As with the other movies I've recommended on this blog, this one definitely has good underlying themes and raises some questions of about second chances and forgiveness.

The 2nd movie I'm giving a thumbs up to, since naturally I am the epitome of class and good-taste on this blog (....uh, ya....), is the recent Hollywood movie Into the Wild. It has gotten tons of media coverage already, since it was in all the movie theaters...or at least I assume so. Starring Emile Hirsh as the main character, it's the story of newly-graduated young adult in the sixties, who decides to follow the hippy mantra of traveling across the US, Mexico and eventually to Alaska, to find himself and experience the world.


This drama is based on a real person, from start to finish, as he runs into plenty of different people on his travels. The theme of the movie is about relationships, from the eyes of main character, although retold by his sister (the narrator).


Obviously this movie resounds with plenty of people, young and old, who just want to let go of their life and go on the road to see where life takes them. Although the beginning of the movie is a little slow, it does get going and the ending, like with Boy A, is very powerful.

If anyone has any good movie recommendations, please let me know.

I realize none of the above movies have any gay-themes in them. Most gay themed, in my opinion, are unfortunately pretty shitty. Of course, if you do feel like having a funny/lame/light/stupid movie-time, then just watch Not Another Gay Movie 2. I lol'ed plenty of times when I saw it last night.

Harder Better Faster Stronger

A few of my friends have separately mentioned that my arms and shoulders look bigger and I look more built as of late. They wondered if I had been working out. The answer to their question would be yes and they have no idea how good their comments make me feel, since I haven't told anyone that I'm working out again. That is the best kind of encouragement I could ask for.

I've always been active, but since this summer I've taken it up a notch. Normally I stick with playing hockey with friends, going running and rock-climbing when someone wants to partner up. Now though, I've expanded my frequency, range and intensity. Since I started biking everywhere, although not anymore because it's getting too cold, my leg muscles grew a lot. My normal jeans and tight-pants have both gotten noticeably tighter. I also got back into some mild-to-moderate weight training, hence the compliment for my arms. I even gave eating low-fat foods a try. It's surprising how my abs become so much more visible if I avoid milk and cheese, although it wasn't easy since I'm someone who was raised on the dairy. As my ex-roomie (the straight one, not the gay one; ya I have 2 ex-roomies) would say: T'es come un veau; which translates in English to You're like a baby cow. I would guzzle down litres of milk every day.
(Rereading that, I feel likes its quasi-sexual and pretty nasty. Oh well.)

I definitely notice the differences: my narcissistic moods seem to happen more often and I do linger a little too long in front of the mirror. Xav and Liz have also both yelled at me for losing focus on conversations with them, because I got lost while starring at myself in a mirror. God, what have I unleashed, hahaha.

My hesitation or laziness for going into all-out workout/active mode, over the last few years, wasn't unfounded. Being tall and based on my Dad's history, I'm prone to injuries. Specifically, pulling muscles and those ultra-shitty lower back mishaps. Even with all the tips from friends, weight training in university got me hurt a few times. Hockey with the guys also put me out pretty bad with a serious lower back fuck-up, 3 years ago. A few months of physio helped, but it took a good year and a half before I became confident enough to pick up a stick again. Even today, I always do stretches almost everyday in the morning because the same part of my lower can ache.

Part of this improved active attitude is thanks to Xav, but a much larger part is because I have this innate need to do something physical now. In becoming a little less patient with my work that keeps me bound to a chair, table and laptop, I feel restless and don't really sleep well if I don't burn this excess energy. During the summer, this led to plenty of midnight bike runs, zooming around downtown for an hour. Trying-out yoga (and still going) is the cold-weather extension of my "treatment" for this need to keep moving. With snow coming soon, I hope to add skiing/snowboarding to mix, assuming I can cover the cost of heading up north and paying for the lift ticket.

So what was the point of this post? Well, there was none. I'm just using this as a boost in my own self-confidence, since I feel great about myself right now, but in a week I'm sure I'll be back to normal or maybe feeling down and thinking I'm hideous. Whatever.

Yes, I also remember that I said I would post a no-shirt picture of myself a while ago. Well, today is not that day.
But soon.

Ha, I'm such a tease.

Reminisce

My ex and I met up a while ago, to "have coffee and talk". Neither of us drinks coffee but we both like using the saying. It was really enjoyable: catching up on each others' happenings and reminiscing. We dated about a year and a half ago, and our break-up was more due to circumstance than one of us losing interest in the other. There were no hurt feelings in the end, so that didn't dampen the situation. We had a happy 3.5 months together.


Talking with him then, I realize that our personalities, lives and interests are so incredibly different. It was probably one of the points of why we were so into each other, but realistically it would probably have been a reason why we would later break up, if he had not moved away. He came from a hippy-family, all grown-up. By comparison, my family was the Anglo-Saxon stereotype. We sparked each others' interests because we found each other radical different. Openly out to his friends and family since 14 (!), queer people had been a normal family topic for him. For myself, I had never even gotten accustomed to my brothers even mentioning they had girlfriends in front of my parents, so when my ex wasn't bothered by public displays of affection (PDA), clearly I had something to learn and get used to.

Anyway, our conversation showed me that it was obvious to me we had little in common as friends. All his friends were very much gay, queer or some division under that umbrella. You should all realize by now that my own friends are pretty much all straight men and women. It was an actual utmost reminder that I've never personally understood people who have been able to remain friends with people they've had relationships with. I would love to still hangout with my ex, but we really have nothing to even talk about in terms of mutual likes. It wasn't like that when we were dating but now it was all different. By the end of our 50 minute talk, we were just done. Nothing else to share.


I do admire those people, especially the gay ones. I've said this once before: dating all the gay guys you know leads to never having any gay friends. It's true, although I wish it weren't so. Apart from being both guys and gay, my ex and I really had nothing else in common. Our interest, hangouts, ideas of good times don't overlap at all. It's unfortunate really, but at least I accept it.

With my previous group of gay friends, including my gay ex-roomie, we slowly stopped hanging out. I didn't get it at the time but it slowly became obvious. Beyond being gay, we just had nothing to say to each other (or at least that was true for me). As fun as it was to go to bars, drink and dance, if you have nothing to talk about it gets boring.

There are still a lot of fond memories of my ex and I, in my mind. I would love to post pictures of him, unfortunately I only have a handful and none of them do justice to his hotness. Shaved head with brown hair, green eyes, stubble if he chose to let it grow and a body that he didn't even realize was super fit and muscly. Really, a guy who doesn't realize how sexy, cute and perfect they are is the best kind. I would be lying if I didn't say I liked the sex, but also the general physical contact too. Just normal touching, hugging and physical contact makes me really happy.

Maybe I'm getting a bit to explicit for my own comfort, but I loved walking up to him and hugging his from behind. I would get an instant hard-on as I pressed my chest against his back, wrapping my arms around him and holding him close. My dick would be at the perfect height to slide up and down, between the curves of his ass. I could also kiss him on the shoulder and neck - starting from lower down and then moving up. That would always make him give this little moan that was so cute and such a turn on. He would turn his head around and I could kiss him on the lips, pushing my groin a little harder into his ass. Oh, that felt so good.
When lying down though, the feeling would be 10 times better.


He is the number 1 reason why I got comfortable with guys I am romantically linked to (the few at least). Public touching, kissing and talking about "gay things" were huge no-nos in my mind before. I would go into my "state of alert" when he used to kiss me on the cheek in public, just in case there was a potential threats nearby. I would always feel anxious when walking with him, as if people could see I was gay. After all, I definitely didn't want people to identify me as gay. But now...I just don't care. It's become normalized and relaxed with me, for the most part. There's no need to care (at least in this city). It's so much better now. As Alicia once told me:

"I'm so happy to be back in Montreal! In my first hour of being back in town, I got offered a free shot of tequila, had some guy offer my weed and then saw two guys making out on the street corner. Oh Montreal...

Eventually, my ex and I hugged and went our separate ways. He's a good person. I have no doubt he'll find someone good for him.

From Zero to Rage

I like to think of myself as a cool-headed person - not a lot of things can bother me.

Wait, actually there's a whole lot of shit that can piss me off. The key, however, is that I very rarely get riled up over something that annoys me. I guess I could say that I take bad news and irritating people pretty damn well. There's no need to get angry or explosive, because in the end I consider the antagonizing thing, person or situation as something that probably doesn't matter or that I'm just too above to care about.
Someone being rude to me? That's fine, I just assume they're in a bad mood and move on. Some dickface insults me? I just laugh it off, turn it into a joke about him and then ignore him. I make dinner, serve it all onto my plate and then trip, launching my delicious meal against the kitchen wall? Well that's just hilarious and sad... but mostly hilarious.

That being said, only one thing pisses me off more than anything else, which I can't just forget, ignore or correct and move on: IF ANYONE, WHETHER ACQUAINTANCE, DATE, FRIEND OR BOYFRIEND CALLS ME A FUCKING PET-NAME, I WILL EITHER NEVER SPEAK TO YOU, DROP YOUR ASS, OR MURDER YOUR EXTENDED FAMILY.

No, this is not an over proportioned response! I have absolutely no idea why I hate being called a pet name so much, but I sure as hell know that I hate it. This one girl used to call me Sweety and Honey, probably because she hoped her overweight and depressive life could become some episode of Will&Grace. I just wanted to fucking push her down a flight of stairs, yelling "I AM NOT YOUR FUCKING SWEETY." I even corrected her once but she still did it. I held myself back from driving her head through a window and did my best to ignore her completely from then on.

Once on a date, the guy called me Baby. Instantly, I lost all interest in him. Actually, when I think about it, it was this guy. Haha, maybe that's why when I think about him now I get completely disgusted.

Using pet names as well established jokes between friends is "OK", but a little part of me still even feels some hatred. That means the ha ha ha of giving a friend names like Sugar-Plum, Poopsie and Honey-Pumpkin eventually degrades into "loving" names such as Bitch-Tits, D.P. and Breakfast-Handjob. I would always say I was joking, but really I wasn't so much... Even my friend Tim calling me Buddy pulls a little at the inside of me.

So internet people out there, should you ever discover my real identity and choose to stalk me and surprise me on the street, please avoid me shoving you into traffic by only referring to me using one of my 3 most common names:
Thomas, *** or ****.

Thank you.

Clear Mind & Song

Nothing clears your mind better than a good run outside, while its snowing at 11pm.



This song also help: Kings of Leon - Lykke Li vs Rodeo Remix .

Coming Out to Mike

And then there was one: Mike.

Over the last two posts, I wrote how I came out (or how I was outed) to Tim and Xav. They both took it better than any of my expectations. I'll admit, I tend to be pessimistic with regards to queerness and acceptance of others, but anyway...

When talking about how Tim and Xav found out, I (hopefully) conveyed that I felt let-down by myself. Instead of actually being pro-active and facing my fear of coming-out, I just kept hiding it when it was obvious that they would both find out sooner rather than later. A friend outed me to Tim, by accident, and I didn't even bother being up-front with Xav when I was almost sure he knew. I preferred to let them deal with the confusion and wait for their reactions, instead of just going directly to them and saying it.

Neither of those situation compare to how I acted with regards to Mike. Mike finding out I was gay was the real disappointment in myself. When it happened, Tim had already known I was gay for 1 year and I had confirmed my sexuality with Xav 6 months before. Although we were all really close, I kept Mike in the dark for 6 months longer, even with Tim and Xav on my back to go through with it. Although Mike is one of my closest friends, he was effectively the last friend of mine to not know I was gay. All the insignificant acquaintances and even friends I didn't like so much knew before him. To top it off, like Tim's situation, I waited for Mike to find out from someone else's mouth.

Pole dancing in the metro

From how the conversation was retold to me, it went something like this:

Mike: I think Thomas and Liz might be dating.

Mutual Friend: Haha! Are you joking!?

Mike's Girlfriend: No, really. They're always hanging out alone...

Mutual Friend: He's gay!

Mike: No he's not.

Mutual Friend: Ha, yes he is!

Mike: No.....?

Mutual Friend:....OH SHIT.

Later that night, we were all at a party. Mike and his girlfriend arrived separately from Tim, Xav and I. Mike's girlfriend came and found me almost straight away. She told me that Mike knew I was gay and explained how it happened. She said I needed to talk with him because he was really confused about it all, especially since he had asked a few of our other mutual friends about me maybe being gay. Mike found out that all our friends already knew I was gay but they had just never talked about it (again, the unsaid taboo of talking about my sexuality back then).

Mike and Girlfriend (now ex)

And what did I do when Mike's girlfriend told me this?

Nothing.

I just pretended as if everything was normal, although I did speak a little less to Mike that night. I did care, but I decided to fuck all that and let the situation sort itself out.

And I kept that up for 2 or 3 weeks.

Fast forward to Mike's birthday party at a club 737, on top of one of the downtown skyscrapers. Great night. Really warm outside on the roof, looking out at the city. Lots of booze. We were all super drunk.


Toward the end of the night, Mike sits next to me, plastered out of his mind. He then looks at me and says:

Mike: I know...and I don't understand why you didn't tell me. Everyone knew but me, and... even then you didn't care. I'm OK with you being this...but you should have told me.

Likelihood dictates that he doesn't even remember telling me this since about 20 minutes later he was vomiting everywhere and then passed out.

What he said stuck with me though. The next day, when I could process it all, I felt like shit. I had kept one of my best friends in the dark until he was the last one to know. Mike, the one friend I've known longer than any other friend, was the last. And by at least last by 6 months, to boot.

He's never been the type of person to care much about me being gay or straight. He didn't really have any questions, like Tim and Mike had. He just accepted me as I was and moved on.

It's sad to say that our friendship did suffer. It suffered because he felt like I didn't trust him. I didn't tell him soon after Tim or Xav and even for those 2 or 3 weeks when he wasn't sure what to think, I remained silent. We grew apart for a good year. We still hung out in our gangs, but we never saw each other 1-on-1. We stopped talking my messenger and didn't call each other. Mike is the classic straight guy in that respect - if he's hurt by you, he won't say it. He'll just deal with it and pretend everything is alright, even when it's not.

All of this, I regret. I wish I had the balls to have said it myself, even if it was only as damage-control after my outing. I had 3 chances: I fucked up 2 of them and then I went and ruined the 3rd.

Clearly, there was and still is something I need to learn.

Coming Out to Xav

Continuing from the previous post of Coming Out to Tim, this post will focus on my coming out to Xav. I read over the Tim-post and decided to add some pictures of him - because pictures are fun and he's not exactly bad on the eyes. I'll include some pics here and in the future Mike post, again because they're pretty good looking guys (yes, I'm trying to word the compliment in the straight-guy-way-of-complimenting-other-guys) and pictures make it more fun to read the post.

The positive reaction from Tim, when I was outed to him, would probably encourage most people to then come-out to their other closest friends. They might feel that if one took it so well the others will probably follow suit. Well...I didn't really look at it like that. Even with Tim encouraging, or actually more like reminding me that I need to tell Xav and Mike, I didn't move forward. I was still stuck. Stuck just because I hadn't done anything before, when Tim found out I was gay.

Xav at the remnant of the bus graveyard

Xav, being the eclectic, open-minded, generally relaxed and cool kid that he is, should have been no problem for me to tell. In my conversations with Tim, I told him that I was 50-50 on the fence for whether Xav already thought or knew I was gay. I met Xav in CEGEP, a little before I was outed to my big group of CEGEP friends. Although Xav knew some of those friends from the start, he didn't like most of them. He easily could have heard the rumors, or more like truths, about my sexuality, but his character would automatically make it that he wouldn't be the first to talk about it since part of the rumour/truth is that I was indeed very uncomfortable with myself - he's cool like that.

Tim wondered why I didn't just get to balls to tell Xav. Well, I was afraid. Like with all three of them, I was afraid that things would change. They wouldn't treat me like before and we wouldn't be as close. Pretty much the standard theme of my being closeted.


Anyway, one day I just took the indirect plunge. When surrounded by Tim, Xav and a bunch of friends who already knew I was gay, I dropped obvious gay innuendos when I was sure Xav was listening:

Person: What do you think about [some Hollywood babe]?

Me: Why would I care about her?

I did that for one or two weeks actually. Yep, I took the "never say it directly and assume everything is OK" route. There's nothing particularly bad about that, but when it comes to one of your closest friends, I should have been able to directly say it all.

Anyway, one day when Tim, Xav and I were hanging out on our own, I just looked at Xav and asked:

Me: Did you know I was gay?

Without a pause, Xav just looks at me and responds in his normal relaxed voice.
Xav: Pretty much, ya.

Me: Since when?

Xav: Well, for 2 years whenever guys would talk about women you wouldn't say much. So I just assumed. You seemed pretty awkward about sex and sexuality anyway, so I decided it would be best if I just wait for you to talk to me first about it.

He was right. In highschool, I would bother with all the lying of "I think she's hot" and "Man, I love it when a girl licks right up the shaft", but in CEGEP I just stopped giving a fuck about that.

Me: Oh...OK...

Xav: Don't worry man, I love the gays....wait, I mean I'm not in love with the gays but I love the gays......uh, whatever. You know what I mean.

Me: heh, ya...

The background should be familiar

Obviously, we spent some time then going over the standard homosexuality questions. Tim joined in too, since he had a lot more things to ask. I know he didn't want me to know, but Tim was pretty happy that Xav now officially knew. He could now talk about me being gay with another person who also knew me. There's nothing wrong about it - everyone wants to be able to asks other peoples' opinions about things. I'm sure Tim needed to vent about certain things related to me, however he couldn't say it directly to me.

So another 1/3rd of my anxiety related to my friends reactions to me being gay was gone. Xav acted very much like himself around me and our friends straight from the start. For a time, like with Tim, he would become more comfortable with my queerness more than I would. Of all my friends today, he's also my biggest supporter and avid "Hey, I think you could score with that guy" wingman. As he has said many times since, "I love the gays".

Now only Mike was left.