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Friday, a friend and I headed to Montreal for gay pride. We go at least once a year, but this was our first gay pride there. We'd been planning it for several weeks. The entire drive up, I began to get more and more excited about all the places we'd go and the things we'd do. I even remember saying on the way up how much I was expecting from the trip. I think my friend was surprised by my admission. For much of our relationship, I've held most of my feelings very close to my chest. It's just something I learned growing up and it's taken a long time to grow out of that. That's a story for another time but, suffice it to say, I was excited. What did we do when we got there: nothing associated with gay pride. What the...seriously. It's actually funny. I'm not disappointed at all really. We walked around during the day eating way too much fucking poutine. (Potatoes, cheese and meat covered in gravy? Uh, YES. I grew up in the south. I don't say no to gravy.) In the evening, we'd sit in the hotel room, smoke weed and listen to Kim Burrell go melodically in-fucking-sane here, here and here. I've been a fan of her gospel jazz since her first CD. I also got to see her Boston last month. I'm glad somebody videotaped it. I think I passed out when she riffed UP :)
That was a long way to drive to miss all of the DJs and events, but it wasn't all for naught. I met a few handsome men. One in particular was a super cute, salt and pepper haired, baby-faced beauty. One look in those blue-green eyes and I was very glad I agreed to meet. It looked like we weren't going to be able to, but he had been pleasantly persistant; I'm so glad he was. I also took notice (very good notice actually) of those hard pecs underneath that polo. My chest definitely does NOT sit up like that. Given our lack of time and suitable space to get acquainted, he took me to the only place he could: a secured storage unit inside a public parking garage. No details here, folks. I will say two things, though: 1) His ass was beautiful and 2) he was an amazing kisser. *Insert huge ass-eating grin here, here, here and definitely all up in here.*
Later when I met back up with my friend, he took one look at me and said, "You've got dirt all over your back and on the back of your head. Where the hell were you?"About an hour later at lunch, he looked across the table and told me I had something on my neck. (Yeah.) I couldn't seem to wipe it off. So he reached over and did it. You know, that's what a great friend will do: tell you when there's toilet paper stuck to your shoe, something hanging out of your nose, tell you when to "leave his sorry ass 'cuz he ain't no good anyway, gurl" and yes, even remove an opal necklace your clavicle. Good. Mother. Fucking. Times.
Don't watch this shit while high. Nobody warned my ass. So I'm warning you.
Milf banged by god. I said it.
I vote for this guy...with my dick :-D
My birthday is in two months. See what you can do about this.
Inspiration: The porn actor James Deen will be starring as a lead with Lindsay Lohan in The Canyons. Yeah, I probably won't watch it either. He's a funny guy with a sexy, very well-written blog of his own.
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