Let's Laugh Our Asses Off!

Soldier of Love

That Special Feeling

How does one man make another man feel special? By asking about his dick size? By fucking his brains out? By worshiping him like some kind of god?

Most heterosexual men learn early on that a man must make a woman feel special if he wants anything from her other than blue balls and lonely nights. The men might fail, but they understand they gotta keep at it until they get it right because, generally speaking, no woman worth more than a mindless sexual encounter is gonna give it up unless she feels special.

But what about two men? Does a man need to feel special to have sex? Generally speaking, no.

Maybe that's why it's easy for gay men to treat one another like disposable products. As if love and sex should be approached like buying meat at the store. You see what's available, inspect the quality, see if it's up to your pre-determined standards, then you decide whether or not to make the transaction, knowing the meat is gonna be in and out of your life like all the other meat you've consumed over the years.

The meat you buy today is no more or less special than the meat you bought the last time you went shopping; it's just something to keep you going. After all, we've all got biological needs, right? And a tasty piece of meat can be a great thing, right?

Or maybe gay men seem expendable to one another because many gay men were never made to feel special by their families, their peers in school or the world at large. Hard to make someone else feel special when you yourself haven't experienced being valued for who you are.

My ultimate dream is to experience something beyond disposable meat. Men have felt me, but few have taken the time to feel me, to find out what makes me feel special or shared with me what makes them feel special.

What makes me feel special? Someone asking me about my dreams and goals in life, then taking a vested interest in those dreams and goals. Someone who listens. Someone who opens up and shares his own hopes and dreams. Someone who values me when he's horny and when he's not. Someone who responds with kindness when I'm hurting, no matter the source of the hurt. Someone who wants to get to know me in and out of bed. Someone open to creating new ways to make us both feel special.

I may be dreaming, but I wanna feel special. And I deserve more than disposable meat. I deserve food for my soul. To be sure, I deserve great sex. But I also deserve a man who can be a male sexual dawg without cutting off the circulation to his brain and his heart. I deserve that kind of buddy and that kind of relationship. My buddy and--we both deserve that special feeling a man gets when his buddy does something that makes him feel like one very special man among men.

You out there, buddy?

A Boy's First Promise

When you were a little boy, what was your deepest dream?

Mine was ... there has to be one other boy in this whole wide world who feels exactly like me, and when we find each other, we're gonna be together forever. I promise.

Buddy Ball

“Hey, buddy, let's shoot hoops.” That's how it gets started. We pull up our shorts over our jocks, grab the ball and head to the court. We shoot around, play some one-on-one, maybe some HORSE. We probably make some kind of bet, just 'cause we like to play games that way. Winner gets? Loser gets? We might even run with other ballers, but we never take it too seriously (yeah, right). Either way, when it's over, we got some good exercise, spent some quality time together, and best of all, my buddy and me had a ball.

Why Am I Single?

What's a nice guy like me doing on a blog like this? Why am I peddling my wares, and my ass, on my own space on the net in hopes of finding a man who stays in my life longer than seven minutes?

If there are plenty of fish in the sea, why can't I land a good catch? Better still, why hasn't a good catch hunted me down, reeled me in and gobbled me up?

Let's take a deeper look at the fishes and the sea ...

-Most creatures aren't hunting for men in black.

Personal experience dictates: 85% of all gay men, regardless of race, don't date black men, which means 85% of all gay men, regardless of race, have pre-judged every black man alive, sight-unseen, as not worthy of love or sex, which means 85% of all gay men have already pre-determined my worth before knowing I even exist.

To 85% of all available males, I'm neither a good catch nor a bad catch. I'm black, which in their minds means I don't even warrant consideration. I'm an invisible man living an invisible life. Most of the men around me refuse to even look my way.

Quite visible, however, is the blatant prejudice of 85% of all gay men, regardless of race. Thanks to the digital world, that hatred is preserved in countless online profiles that reveal a truth many black men have known for decades: most gay men, regardless of race, are racists against blacks.

Log on and behold the evidence: the infinite variations of phrases such as WHITES AND LATINS ONLY, NO BLACKS, NO ASIANS--it's all there for anyone to witness, quantify and study. The river of hatred runs deep. De facto segregation is alive and well in the hearts and minds of many a gay man.

-Most creatures avoid men who are HIV-Positive.

There was a time when the gay community reacted to HIV/AIDS with compassion and a sense of togetherness. That time has passed. Gayworld 2008 is a place that treats men who are HIV-positive like AIDS Monsters lurking in dark alleys, ready to snatch up innocents who wander too close.

Never mind “safer sex with everyone” keeps one healthier than “unsafe sex with anyone.” Never mind bypassing judgment. Never mind a healthy attitude about sexual health. Never mind education over ignorance. Never mind compassion.

For the vast majority of available men, “safe sex” has evolved into a narrow-minded creed: steer clear of anyone who isn't “clean and disease-free.” Never mind the fallacy of such foolish notions. Never mind the great black guy who's "disease-ridden."

-Most creatures won't interact with non-Mandingos.

Of the gay men who are open to dating black men, 90% (or more) of those men are self-described “bottoms” looking to be “topped” by a big black Mandingo dick (attached human being optional).

The question most asked in my lifetime? How Big Is My Dick?.

As if the sole worth of a black man is his dick and its ability to morph into a dominant, mindless pummeling tool. Cultural implications of this near-sighted fantasy aside, that's not me. Simple as that.

None of the above factors make me single, they just make finding love all the more challenging. In the sea of life, very few creatures even consider dating and loving someone who's black, HIV-positive and not a Big Black Mandingo machine.

The pool of available men is miniature. The odds of finding a good catch are downright infinitesimal. And that's before getting to the compatibly round, where two people discover what, if anything, they have in common.

Why am I single? There's not one overwhelming reason, just stacked odds.

What's a guy like me is doing on a blog like this? Trying to be a better fisherman in the sea of life.

Somebody for Me?

Catch Me If You Can ...

Buddy Got Butt

Buddy, Lemme Smell Your Pits!

Whoa! Those are some ripe pits! Lemme get another whiff. Fuck, man, that's what you call funky. Now get a whiff of what my pits are cooking up in this summer heat.

Whew! Buddy, you are one funky ... ripe ... buddy. Come here, lemme smell that again ...

In my dreams, my buddy and me take pride in our pits and the scents that make us men.

Deodorant? Maybe once a decade. Cologne? Ha!

Yeah, me and my buddy wear cologne alright: Ode de Buddy, the scent that sends us both on a natural high. It's guaranteed to drive us wild and bring out the animal in each other. One whiff of Ode de Buddy and I'm reminded of all the things that make my buddy who he is.

No need for artificial scents. All me and my buddy need is any one of the many varieties of Ode de Buddy.

Buddy, can you smell what these pits are cooking up?

Summer Sweatin'

In my dreams, my buddy and I love smelling our ripe armpits and funked-up jockstraps. It's what makes us men!

Summertime is made for two buds in love, sweating together, shooting hoops, throwing the football or Frisbee, riding bikes, hiking in some wilderness, or just hanging outdoors with brewskies and each other.

Two boys in their jockstraps, inseparable while sweatin' the summer away.


Anybody out there dreaming of having a buddy like me?

This Blog Is For Who?

Imperfect Bodies, Perfect Match

I don't imagine me or my buddy ever had or will have so-called “perfect bodies.” More likely, we'll both have the bodies of men who have survived the jungle known as life, complete with physical manifestations of the ups and downs of a warrior's journey.

I know I got a gut! I also know how to wear it pretty well, thanks to a lifelong necessity. And now, thanks to Tyra Banks and America's Next Top Model, I know how to “model” it better. Thank you, Tyra, it's not just the girls you're helping to learn to love themselves.

Yep, that's right. I love America's Next Top Model, Broadway musicals and soap operas. Yep, I got that in me. I also got sports and “masculinity” in me, but in a relationship, I'm the bitch! Emotionally, that is. And the buddy of my dreams is not only cool with my “feminine” and “masculine" sides, both sides compliment his energy. Let's him be the full-time man and vicarious bitch, and let's me be the vice versa.

Moreover, it's a turn-on for my buddy to see the man inside of me, and a turn-on for me to see my buddy's vice versa. Don't understand? If you're my buddy, you will.

Is my buddy out there? Can you hear me, buddy? Is anyone in this great big universe dreaming of being with a guy exactly like me? Are any of our friends dreaming of hooking us up so we can finally find our perfect match? Buddy, are you out there?

If you dream of loving a very lovable guy like me, email me and let's start living our fantastic lives together.