September 29, 2008

September 28, 2008

Positively Confident

Dream Hangout

I dream of a place where my buddy and I and our good friends can hang out and play like boys. A place with an outdoor area for shooting hoops, tossing the football, wrestling in the mud, grillin' on the deck, drinking beer and shooting the shit about life. A place with an indoor area for lounging, video games, foosball, pool, poker, a bar and big screen entertainment.

I dream of place for buddies to unite. A place where a man's scents—his funky pits, his sweaty crotch, his ripe ass—are all a good thing because that's how men smell. A place where sex on the brain is a good thing because that's how men think. A place where buddies can be buddies like only men can. A place where men can act like ... men. That's my dream hangout for me and my buddy and our buds. Any buddies wanna share my dream?

In Search of a Better Nut

I thought about going to a bar tonight to look for my buddy. Or at least to get some ass since it's been awhile. I even got dressed, jeans and a collared shirt—a rarity for such a "casual" dresser like myself. Another rarity is me stepping foot inside a bar. But to coin a phrase from my novel, The Devil Inside, once in a while, “a man needs to shoot his wad on something besides his stomach or the good sheets.”

So tonight I psyched myself up enough to go out. Then ... ten minutes later ... my enthusiasm waned like a deflating balloon. Simply put, I didn't believe the psych. I got undressed, relieved I hadn't worked up the dog by telling him “be back.”

I didn't go out because I came to the realization: mingling in the neighborhood gay bar is mingling with the same men who ignore me on the Internet because—in their own words, not mine—I'm not what they prefer, which is men who are WHITES and LATINS ONLY and CLEAN and DISEASE FREE.

The jig is up. I don't need to stand in a bar to be rejected by the majority of gay men of America. They've already voted me off online.

So much for going to a gay bar tonight.

Instead, I decided to do something productive, like art therapy. That way, I'll have a better shot at working up a good nut before falling asleep to sweeter dreams.

September 27, 2008

The Funky Truth

Attention Sapien Homos

My Whole Other Life

Man don't live by nut alone and that includes me. When I'm not dreaming of eating my buddy's ass, or him eating mine, I make other dreams come true. What makes all those other dreams sweeter is being able to share them with a buddy. I wonder what my buddy is dreaming of right now.

September 26, 2008


The funky blog represents my body. But I also got a brain and I get paid. Doing what? Click here to find out about my funky creative career. Click here to see how my brain blogs.

September 25, 2008

Positively Brainy

After attending USC for two years, I transferred and graduated from UCLA in 1985, becoming the only male in my family to earn a college degree. College was full of fun times and tough times. I had never even stepped foot in the Golden State before my first week at Southern Cal. Coming from Indianapolis, Indiana, I had lived a relatively sheltered life, but a few weeks in LA LA land took care of that.

During registration week, while I was walking on fraternity row, an anonymous voice from inside the Sigma Chi house at USC called me nigger. This was around the same time I learned that the all-white fraternities didn't let black students like me rush. It was all a crushing blow to my young soul. I came to California to start anew and find a place to fit in. A few days after landing at LAX, the rich white boys who ruled the school had put me in my place.

That night, I borrowed a friend's bike, rode to the nearby LA Memorial Coliseum, and cried my broken heart out. I also vowed to eventually get the hell out of USC. Two years later, I found a friendlier school in UCLA. I also found I was more the public education type. Most of all, I'm glad I persevered and got my diploma, one of my greatest feats. And I'm glad I took the message to heart when my parents emphasized the importance of a good education. Thanks, mom, for the love and support, and the cookies!

The Details

As far as love, sex, romance and all that goes—for me, the only things worth pursuing with a man are gonna involve eating ass and/or falling in love. The rest is details at this point.

Neg Dudes: Show Me Some Love

What hurts the most about being HIV-positive in 2008? Seeing all the men online who would never dream of falling in love and having sex with a poz person, even though “neg people” can have all kinds of great, joyous sex with “poz people” and walk away “disease-free.”

A few fortunate men understand they can have sex with a person regardless of one's HIV status without acquiring the virus. These are usually men who in the 1980s and 90s experienced safer sex with poz males, oftentimes, their lovers. These few wise men possess the knowledge that HIV/AIDS doesn't rub off when you kiss a man or suck his dick or lick his ass, or let him do the same to you. These men are educated about how the virus is transmitted and not transmitted, and have lived through and survived having sex with the Poz People. These men understand that they don't have to eliminate an entire species, so to speak, in the hunt for love and sex.

I've kissed neg men. Neg men have kissed me. I've sucked neg dick. Neg dudes have sucked my dick. I've licked neg ass. Neg tongues have eaten my ass. Rimming, fucking, making out, cuddling, making love—a neg person and a poz person can do all those things safely.

But most men don't know this or don't care. Most HIV-negative gay men treat men HIV-positive gay men like vampires or monsters. Many neg men use online phrases such as, “neg here, so you be too so we can bareback,” and “neg for neg.” Oftentimes, even men looking to simply masturbate will specify “neg only,” apparently so the only disease present will be in their minds.

These poz-a-phobes are poor ignorant souls to me, and still it hurts. Sometimes I get so angry, I wish I had to power to infect them all, so they could see how it feels being on the other end of their ignorance and hate. Yes, it's hate. It sure ain't love. It sure ain't compassion. And it sure ain't fun being HIV positive in a world where people separate themselves from me and think that makes them better off.

Whenever my death occurs, whatever the reason, at least I'll be relieved of the pain and heartache that comes from living in world that doesn't want to like me, doesn't want to understand me, and to date, refuses to show me any love.

Any Buddy Out There?

September 24, 2008

An Unquiet Life of Desperation

Been poz for 23 years. Thought I was gonna die a lotta those years. Almost did once. Now I got nothing to hide. In addition to being poz and a stud ... lol ... I'm an author and a pretty good all around dude. I like sports, exercising at the beach, shooting hoops, science and tech stuff, and a whole lotta other things.

If you think you can fall in love with a man like me, get the fuck in touch! LOL

Note: Ain't got anywhere near a perfect body by today's standards. The pics are me. The one in this post was taken today, as a matter of fact. I was playing around with the camera. Oh, yeah, I like photography, and I like to make fun with the camera, modeling jock gear and whatever else comes to my twisted mind. I like to see all the ways I can come off on camera, even though deep down I'm just a sad and lonely little boy and a sad and lonely man trying to have fun. And maybe find a buddy so I won't be so sad and lonely anymore.

I keep thinking to myself: there's gotta be at least one other man on this planet who's perfect for me and I'm perfect for him. And since my everyday world is not a world full of men who even consider looking my way, I figure I'll blog my way through this journey, put myself out there, have some fun with it and make it worth my while. Otherwise, it's a quiet life of desperation.

September 22, 2008

September 21, 2008

September 20, 2008

Hoosier Buddy?

Yep, I was born 'n' raised there.

September 18, 2008

Let's Be Buddies

Nerd. Geek. Stud. Fighter. Lover. Brain. Sportsman. Raunchy dude. Survivor. Those are just a few of the words that come to mind when I think of myself.

I grew up a lonely boy who felt like a fag and just wanted one buddy for a life of love and adventure. Now I'm a lonely man who feels like a great guy and I still wanna find another great guy so we can be buddies for life.

We'll play like boys and love like men. Let's shoot hoops, toss the football around, go biking, and work up a manly sweat being buds in the great outdoors. Then we'll turn all our nasty, kinky, raunchy fantasies into reality. Dig each other's ripe pits. Rim each other's funky asses for hours on end. Love, love, love all our troubles away.

We're not gay, straight or even bi. Fuck all that. We're buddies, like the great buddy duos of movies and TV. Let's make our own kind of relationship. Let's define who we are for ourselves. Let's be buddies.

Funky Bunch

September 16, 2008

Positively Bass Ackwards

What's a nice guy like me doing looking for a buddy on a blog like this? Have I gone mad? Have I become desperate? Why can't my funky black poz jock ass find true love? Click here to read Why Am I Single?

Positively Sincere

Ripe for the Licking

September 15, 2008

I Get Clean

I Get Dirty

Do I Have a Big Black Dick?

My penis is a beautiful extension of my being. My dick provides me a whole lotta fun and comfort. I love it. I'm happy with it. To learn more, check out How Big Is My Dick?

September 13, 2008

Buddy Dreaming

I know you're out there somewhere
'Cause I've held you in my dreams
And I'm waitin' for the day it all comes true
So close and yet so far away
You'll be more than just a dream some day
I'll hold you in my arms but 'till I do

I'll get by
I'll wait until the rivers run dry
If it takes a million years well
I will know a million years can't come too soon
Somehow, somewhere our eyes will meet and then and there
The sparks will set a magic night on fire
And I'll lasso you the moon

—Lasso the Moon (Gary Morris)

September 12, 2008

Happy to Be Living with AIDS

In 1985, I was ready to die of AIDS at the age of 23. That was the only reality I knew and the only reality the world knew for someone in my condition: you've got this mysterious virus and you're going to die in 12-18 months, wasting away pound by pound until you look like the skeleton of a fading human spirit in a death camp. And the whole world understands why: because you're a homo.

That was a reality shared by myself and the entire world for more than a decade, for most of my twenties and thirties, with slight variations until the late 1990s, when the first class of new meds started proving what we now know today: yes, you can live with AIDS. You can dream beyond a guaranteed future of fading away in a death bed, turned away by society.

In 2008, I celebrated my 46th birthday. Twenty-three years after getting a “death by AIDS” sentence, I smile when I remember what a man once said at an HIV Information meeting in West Hollywood back in 1988: “You're not guaranteed to die of AIDS.”

What a sweet dream, then and now.

Funky Trinity

What kind of partner in life do I dream of? Check out The Man of My Dreams

September 11, 2008

September 9, 2008

September 8, 2008

Happily Ever After Living with AIDS

I once had a dream that while I was living with HIV/AIDS, I'd met a man who would fall so deeply in love with me, he'd "marry" me whether I was HIV-positive or HIV-negative. Could it still happen? I don't know, but this much is true: Dreams do come true. Miracles happen. Anything is possible. Either way: I'll be living with AIDS and living happily ever after.

Check out Charged Up: To Be or Not To Be HIV-Positive

Go for the Jockular

Positively Steamy

September 6, 2008