eh, jiggawhat?

in the past few days, i’ve:

woken up in zones 1, 2 and 3.
celebrated gregiño’s fabulous 21st birthday—several times.
gotten a very sexy [and very painful] tattoo on a whim—and nearly fainted.
ditched a french boy named clyde, somewhere in mile end.
screamed like a girl from a rickshaw bicycle taxi with atif and john.
chatted with stuart at 5am, in the midst of his fabulous travels, at a tokyo airport.
had brunch with random gay boys who, it would seem, had slept with all of my friends.
danced to beyoncé’s crazy in love 17 times, with aplomb.
rode on a gay bus to benjys.
pleasantly and recurringly mistaken .popstarz simon for my father.
chatted with russian roger [not really russian] while american jay [not really american] rode to his mum’s on his bicycle at 5am to get booze.
nearly peed myself watching bringing down the house
purposefully electro-shocked myself countless times during a sadistic drinking game.
shared a delicously impromptu meal with respectible tom and ben.
got frisky with several divas, including hannah jones singing i am what i am.
survived the [pleasant-i'm-not-complaining] london heat, and a [oh-well-it's-only-happened-once] power outage.

i haven’t been home in days, now, and really need to bathe. and sleep. and eat. and take care of my new tattoo.

after finishing smoking, drinking & screwing [the latest issue of xy] early monday morning, i’ve been, well, smoking, drinking & screwing!

on wednesday, i convinced respectible tom to join me for a pseudo date. he’s, erm, 19, and incredibly cute, funny, totally the gadget boy like me and a sweet kisser. he’s also living the student/unemployed lifestyle [a very typical problem with 19yo boys] and has some mysterious lurking sugardaddy-ish older boyfried-ish person in his life.

we managed to ignore discussing his sugardaddy as we shared some drinks and walked around covent garden, out gadget-ing each other, quoting .will & grace, and just being flirty fun, before joining manny and ben at satsuma for dinner. tom loves sushi as much as me, so we got kinky with some soy and fed each other some spicy tuna [if-you-know-what-i'm-sayin'].

around 130am, after dancing and drinking and flirting and smooching, tom declares things are getting too weird, and he has to go home to think about the sugardaddy conundrum. i’m flattered, to be honest, and view his sugardaddy not part of the eric + tom equation.

after he left, i found myself in that unique state that happens about once a year—alone in a club, perfectly awake and maybe slightly buzzing, with my ego, confidence and mojo all set to high after snogging a boy for a while, and brill chunes churning out of the hi-fi.

i was jigglin’ it all like beyoncé to crazy in love. i know all the breaks and hooks to the felix da housecat, rauhofer -and- my boy paul’s american life remixes, and, well, don’t even get me started about justin.

fending off all of the other lads, i eventually met up with barry, the cute boy i met in the .popstarz loo a few weeks prior, and keep seeing all over soho. he’s blonde, 6’4″, buff, maybe 23yo, and stunningly handsome [as opposed to tom's boyish cuteness]. spent a few hours dirty dancing with barry [boy's got moves!] and then a few more hours just chatting with him about life, love, london and so on, at balans café before swimming home [alone—c'mon, kids, i'm not that much of a player!] around 7am.

tom came over this evening to watch hairspray. i think we both had nothing but perfectly respectible intentions, but, well, boys will be boys. it was a similar experience to enjoying sushi the previous evening, for the first time in ages… he was just as delicious, just as cute and just as addictive as a few hand rolls of tikka maki. amazing—absolutely amazing. dem eyes. dem lips. dat smile. dat _______, wow! :shock:

tom is a lovely lad. i’m not an ageist, so i wouldn’t dismiss the possibility of something clicking with him. i’ve dated enough students, though, to know that lack of funds, and living far apart can cause troubles. and the mysterious boyfriend/sugardaddy character certainly can’t be a good thing.

barry is a wonderful boy as well. he’s a bit mysterious, and hinted to me several times that he’s never been with a guy before, or isn’t sure he’s gay. the look in his eyes as we shared tea at 5am this morning begged to differ, but, then again, i got nothing more than a goodbye smooch from him this morning.

either way, my mojo ain’t complaining. oh, look, the weekend’s here!

they come in all shapes and sizes

here’s a vivid encapsulation of what a monday night can be like:

i meet up with manny [my good friend and all-around scene queen], karl [a lovely friend that i don't see nearly enough of] for some drinkies. we slam a few back, i marvel at the 18yo boys and bartenders at ku, then we frolick over to .heaven.

in .heaven, we slither into the vip room, which is absolutely empty. eventually, the usual vip kiddies wander in. they are of one of three categories:

     1. incredibly cute 18yo [wannabe] rent boys
     2. incredibly famous/wealthy/important 35yo+ gentlemen, usually fairly unattractive
     3. sorta important, sorta well-off, sorta cute mid-20yo kiddies like myself

all three groups are preposterous, in my opinion, and on a monday night it’s ridiculous to thrive on the pretentiousness of a vip room. i flirted with the new bouncers for a bit, and paul the owner, as he’s always a hoot, before joining the plebs in the main club.

the music was stupendous, and i promptly got incredibly sweaty dancing to the usual .heaven repertoire: dj sammy-esque remixes of classic chunes, played very loudly with smoke and lasers to hypnomertize me. simon the biter and his trusty sidekick owen were there. i feel that i successfully put them in their place for once, while at the same time arranging a lunchtime shag date with simon. manchester rory was there, along with twinky robin, both of whom were strugging to flirt with me and remain loyal to their [respective] sugardaddies. bless.

i made the sad, ironic, gruesome mistake of getting quite intimate with respectible tom, a lovely young well-dressed boy who made it very clear he had a boyfriend, and [simultaneously] made it very clear that he fancied me. spent a few hours having respectible conversation and very irrespectible naughtiness with him.

as we left .heaven, i happened to pass tomer on the street, where he was waiting for a bus.

          how
             incredibly
                awkward.

this random boy, who i just shagged the previous night, and have been avoiding since, happens to be there. he’s a sweet boy, and the only reason i’m avoiding him is that he turned out [in the broad daylight] to not be my cup of tea. awful, i know, but it happens! here i am, walking hand-in-hand with respectible tom, as i see tomer, whose calls i had been avoiding all day. i’m a class act, yes i am.

so, yeah, so maybe respectible tom will leave his sugardaddy boyfriend to be with me. that would be a good thing, right? i mean, if it was meant to be, then it was meant to be? he was a delicious kisser—his lips were like tiny soft orange slices, sweet and juicy but a little bit firm. i absolutely could not stop myself from kissing him. he seemed sweet and genuine.

but, then again, so did i.

complete in total darkness empty space is where you’re left to dwell

i studied computer science for four excruciating years at caltech, one of the best [and most challenging] places to get an undergraduate engineering degree. i took some of the toughest undergrad physics and applied math courses, in addition to theoretical computer science and natural sciences.

one of my favorite courses was one i took both my freshman and senior years—a 4-unit silkscreening course. the underground silkscreening lab was filled with hundreds of buckets of paint, thousands of t-shirt design stencils from 20-years of silkscreening, boxes of shirts, waiting to be printed. the class was run by this really cool soft-spoken hippy dude named jim, with long-grey hair.

he was very flexible with what we printed, and when, and there were always good tunes booming out of the soundsystem. i’d sneak down to the lab at 2am, with my freshly-printed designs, but i’d always forget to bring any cd’s [the lab was underground and got no radio reception]. the one cd that was left there was dj shadow’s entroducing album. i’d listen to that album loudly, on repeat, as i burned my screens and screened my shirts.
Continue reading ‘midnight in a perfect world’