Narcissus Confessionals: The Chase

Aah, I revel in the joys of anonymous blogging. See I get to open up and disclose fairly personal details of my life to a whole bunch of strangers without having to worry about any kind of repercussions. Such is the beauty of the internet one I intend to utilise with reckless abandon. So, the chase. You know, boy meets boy, boy likes boy and proceeds on this chase to win the affection of boy. See the thing about the chase is that it betrays this inherent and fundamental human need to be wanted or desired. The chase becomes interesting, mildly convoluted even, when the object of the chase, that is, the chassee, does not seem to reciprocate the advances that are made toward him by the chaser. This becomes especially difficult for anyone conducting the chase, and two outcomes are likely to arise out of this scenario. The chaser may give up or abandon the chase in the hope of finding more suited subjects to chase, or as often happens in my case, the chaser hardens his resolve to win the affection of the chasee.

Ladies and gentlemen, such is the situation yours truly finds himself in. I bet y’all have heard of ‘easy come easy go’ right? This holds especially true for me. See a lot of blokes tend to literally throw themselves at me..and yes, I insist, literally. Many of these blokes will be easy on the eye, potentially great in bed, and possibly good lovers. And whereas I may give in to the advances of said blokes every once in a while, I’ve reached a point in my life where I appreciate something that’s worked for as opposed to one that’s handed to you on a silver platter. What I mean is, I hope to work to get my ideal man as opposed to having him chase after me like a horny rabbit. The easy types tend to end up at best as flings, if not one night stands. Thus I advocate for the process of dating. What many people fail to realize about dating is that it’s not a binding kind of arrangement. The whole idea of dating is to learn about each other so as to determine if both of you are suited to each other, enough to get into a relationship.

So back to my dilemma. I happened to chance upon this gorgeous man the other day. He’s the stuff dreams are made of, smart, incredibly good looking, high flying career, ambitious, funny, cool, considerate and a very ‘straight’ kinda guy. Don’t chance upon those everyday do we? The thing about him that’s most endearing though is how cool and level headed he is. See, you’re probably waiting for me to pour the illicit details of randy sex with him and what not right? Well, wrong. The guy, let’s call him Matt, is involved with someone and was honest about this right from the beginning. He’s taken to my advances with an air of cool that’s almost intimidating. I’m not one that’s had to try very hard to get me a man, and Matt’s unavailability has only served to make him even more desirable. I do try to honour and respect the sanctity of relationships, really, I do. However, I also tend to be a go getter, and what I want, I go after. The thing about relationships is that if one were to leave their lover for another, that would only be symptomatic of a strained relationship that was probably not going to work right? If the relationship is strong enough, then it should be able to weather ‘the other man’ without a problem. I’m possibly getting to a place where I’ll appreciate a friendship with Matt. As a friend I’d be obligated to want nothing but the best for him, which would include among others, a happy relationship with his man. However this will be a bit difficult for me because unbeknownst to Matt, I have it on good authority, by chance, that his bf is not good for him, and is not in anyway deserving of him! I’d hate to be the one to break the two up, and with my crush on Matt, I don’t see how it wouldn’t be construed as some underhanded agenda to break the two up so I could have Matt to myself, but failure to do it could come back to bite a big chunk off my ass in the future. What to do..what to do..* sigh *

Run in with love

What is love ? I find myself asking this on the odd occasion. One can easily set the mood of a post from the first line and whereas this post will touch on this phenomenon, it will dwell specifically on how my brief encounter with it as well as how it has eluded me for the longest time. I have only ever been truly in love once in my life. It was a blissful six months that forever remain etched in my memory. See this was a feat on several levels. Firstly, as is mentioned before, it was the first time I was truly and happily and in love. Prior to this, I was averse to the very concept of monogamy, and up to this day, still shudder at the mere mention of it. See it has never been too difficult to get a lay, many are those that have lusted over yours truly and I’ve only had, in most cases, to select possible suitors that looked like they could put up a decent to mind blowing performance in, and not limited to, the bedroom. I revelled in my ability to remain emotionally unattached to anyone I had physical relations with, and where such emotional attachment presented itself, it was only up to levels of mere fondness, at most.

Then along came the man of my dreams who literally swept me off my feet. A whirlwind romance from the day we laid eyes on each other, and quite possibly, love at first sight. Everything about that brief romance was near perfect, I dare say. Handsome lad just about my age with ambition and  a high flying career, intelligence that turned me on to the core of my being, a great sense of humour, sweet, kind, caring and with an ego the size of Texas that I was fortunately able to keep in check. The thing about being in love, that struck me at the time, is that you live, eat and breathe your lover. I thought about him constantly, dreading times we’d spend too long apart. We had constant, daily even, phone conversations that lasted for an hour at least at times. The sex was out of this world, further enhanced by the fact that we were both spiritually elevated in the realm of sex, which meant that we could hump in the car in the parking lot on a random night out, perform sexual acts that would scar the average prude for life, or make the prolific porn actor blush, among others.  We’d even developed a secret code of communication that we’d use in situations that required our utmost discretion, such as when we’d hang out with his siblings or other straight friends. And even in such situations, anyone with the discerning eye would quickly pick out the chemistry between us. The most amazing thing of all, at least personally, is the fact that despite my lecherous past, not once did I conceive thoughts of infidelity. I mean, I’d fancy the random hot guy that I encountered, perhaps give credit where it was due in his presence even, but that’s just as far as it went. It was then that I realised that I was capable of committing to a man without the incessant need to lay the next hot as hell #maafaka (twitter habit) on the street. The breakup then happened, something I choose not to dwell on because I’d rather remember the pleasant times we shared.

After a couple of years in the ‘game’ I have matured enough to know that it is actually impossible to sleep with every hot man in the world…apparently (lol) and that ideally I would actually prefer to be in a committed relationship with a man I’m madly in love with, as opposed to one I’d merely settle for until some’thing’ better came along, which is what I consider ‘flings’ to be.  And whereas my lecherous ways have since been subdued by this, among other factors including but not limited to STI’s, reputation and such, I still haven’t found me a man that that makes me go gaga. Sure there have been sexy ass blokes, ones great in the sac, others that have shown me the true meaning of earth shattering coitus, some with endearing wit, but sadly none that constitute a sufficient number of qualities that I’d like in my dream man. I’ve thought on occasion that my standards may possibly be too high, but I’ve come to the startling conclusion that I’d rather be single than settle for less. And if this means that ‘love’ shall be all the more elusive then so be it.

 

Blue Collar Brothers

Hey bloggers, how’re you doing? Been a bit of a while since my last post, but I’m still trying to get in the groove of this blogging thing. So what is it about blue collar brothers anyway? Y’all know what I’m talking about. That hella muscular skinhead bouncer at the club who mildly crosses the frisking line, much to your delight though;  that dark, freakishly toned construction worker dripping with sweat and pounding away at those quarry stones with a chisel and mallet; that ghetto brother from some eastlands neighbourhood who’s cute as hell, uses terms like ‘’noma/ngori/nare/gede’’ (they call it sheng, I hear, lol) and can only sustain an intelligent conversation in English for about as long as Usain Bolt (gorgeous man) takes to clear a 100m track, or mostly just can’t; and of course, there’s the brother from the country, phenomenally unpolished, recently moved to the city, fairly easy on the eye with a rock hard body and tricks in the sheets that would make Chi Chi LaRue/Taylor Hudson/Lawrence David (or whatever he calls himself nowadays) blush.

I’ve never quite understood the massive sex appeal that these brothers possess, that raw sexual energy that they seem to radiate, and it seems the more airheaded they are the sexier they become. Personally, I’ve given into my lust for some of them on the odd occassion, but that’s just as far as it goes. You see, I’d like to be able to hold a conversation with my ideal man, for longer than 9.34 seconds, much longer than that actually. He should be able to critique Obama’s Health Care policy, own a bathroom bag/grooming kit, keep up with the latest fashion trends without compromising on his individual style, tell the difference between brake horse power and torque; a turbo charger and a super charger, love German cars and be indifferent to rubbish American cars, be great in the sack, be worldly and well travelled, accept that he’ll always come 4^th in my list of chocolate ‘Greek’ gods; behind Taye Diggs and Tyson Beckford and the not so chocolate Matt Lauria, and have a bit of spare change in his pockets..but that’s just me.

It even gets more interesting where Caucasians domiciled locally are concerned. A good number of them actually spend a great deal of time with the aforementioned. Beyond the sex appeal, it’s completely lost on me why they’d actually hang out with BC brothers after the sex, considering conversation takes up 2.687% of the time. Some go as far as hanging out in joints where you’d typically find BC brothers, most notably, Tacos, et al. As for the brothers, they sure as hell don’t mind hanging out with Caucasian pensioners. Even camels with Givingitis have greater sex appeal.  I always look at the situation as one of ‘’scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours’’ sort of thing (you know what I’m on about). However, it’s not really my place to judge how one likes their eggs, and if they want the eggs for an entire weekend!

Give me a blue collar brother for a night, why not, they sure do light a ferocious fire in my loins ! Anything more and, well, I’ll pass J

Big Brother Africa 4

Did Big Brother Africa take ‘’brother’’ a bit too seriously? I don’t know about yall but I was thoroughly disappointed by the ‘’revolutionary’’ sausage fest that gathered down south last night. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was more than pleased by the fact that the BBA4 cast was entirely male (so gay !) well, until the rude shock, something about women ? I don’t know, didn’t pay too much attention to that.

So anyway, I crossed my fingers hoping for some motivation to watch BBA but alas, there’s absolutely no eyecandy in that house whatsoever! A shame really, but hey, still settled for two blokes who were pseudo-worthy of the attention of my roving eye. Jeremy Ndirangu from Kenya and yes, Itai Makumbe from Zimbabwe (the skinhead helped, A LOT).

 And speaking of, is it just me or is anyone else of the opinion Itai’s totally gay ? These little factlets sent my gaydar to full readings: One of his favourite shows is, wait for it, America’s Next Top Model (I know!). One of his bad habits include, stealing glances of himself in the mirror (helloo narcissism, ahem). Lastly, and by no means least, should he win the grand lotto, he intends to use it to finance trips to London, Paris, New York and LA, seriously? Come on!

These two are the only reason I ‘may’ watch the show. I do hope the house stocked up on plenty of lotion, and Geisha which ‘’lasts and lasts’’, coz it’s going to be a long week for the boys, lol. Quite frankly though, I did expect more of a ‘’revolution’’, and not a re-enactment of an idea already applied in Spain on their version of Big Brother. Fingers crossed, as some of them will not be living in the house past next week.

How to have great mindblowing sex..

..not. Now that I've got your attention, I'll proceed to actually apologize for my inability to blog at this moment in time. It's about 3 am in the night and one ought to be forgiven for not bubbling with many a blog post idea, right ?    Looking forward to my cathartic journey on the blogosphere..