Running out of Material


I’m running out of material for this blog.  I think I am done with those funky ads. I mean really? How many times can you ask a straight man to be your friends and then have him tell you that he’s curious. Cliche.

Or how about those young ones that want my money. Really? I write articles about that. Get a job. Wikinut.

So I’m changing my modus operndum.

I need a blind date. Yes. A Blind Date. Come on people, you’re my friends, my family, my coworkers, my enemies (this should be fun), you know enough about me to set me up with a blind date. I’ll write all about it. That is if he’s the right one, then No. I will not write about it. Okay, maybe on a different blog.

So please, make him a nice guy. I really don’t care about age, race, or anything like that. I do however want him to be able to drink in public, breath, and have a nice job. I’m not picky anymore. LOL.

Thank you.

I went on a date…

So, I went on a date.

No. I didn’t. I don’t know what the hell it was.  We spoke on the phone for a few minutes. I show up at his house because he didn’t have a car (first clue that something was not right). I go to the back of the house to his room, (he has many roommates, second clue).

We talk a bit in his large room, he works out, plays guitar and works on cars. A true cholo, short, thin, well defined, cholo haircut, goatee, and the accent (mix of English and Spanglish, no real Spanish). I never really liked dating Mexicans or Latinos. They are all very machistas (men who think they’re all that). This one in particular was very nice, caring, and new what he was doing.

He said he had a charlie horse, so I gave him a massage. And did I mention that he knew what he was doing. OMG. No freaking way, I never had a lover like that, ever. Not before, not after. I mean the earth moved (probably an earthquake, it was California after all), and it was the best hour and a half ever. I couldn’t get enough and neither could he.

Anyway.  Long story short because I’m supposed to keep this PG. We did’t go to dinner. I went home satisfied. I called him a few days later and no answer. I guess no more dating him.

That'll be $70

I answered a personal and hoped for the best. He answered back and we started a dialog. It was nice getting to know him on paper. So we decided to meet.

I drove 30 miles for this date. His car had broken down and we could swim in the pool. I get there, he’s better looking than the photo, he compliments me and we hang out.

We had drinks, some food, and enjoyed the pool and each others company on a lazy summer afternoon.  As we were making plans for next date he asks me for his $70.

I was confused. What am I paying $70 dollars for? We didn’t have sex, at least I don’t remember. I did see more than most on a date. He claimed that it was on the email he sent me. I checked my phone and sure enough it was there. How the hell did I miss that.

Lesson. Look carefully at the emails before you committ or you’ll pay for a good view and no sex.

How Big Are You?

That’s your first question after asking for a snuggle? Do we have no shame? When I say we, I mean you. Yes you. The guy in front of this screen looking at the hot dog.

Anyway, I’m getting pretty tired at some of these fools asking for size. Whatever happened to let’s meet. Let’s see how compatible we are. Maybe go to dinner. A movie. A drink. Something other than what size I carry.

I’ve never gotten any complaints and I’ve never complained.  It’s not the size of the rocket, is the propulsion and guidance system. Guys, learn that. Not all guys are size queens, unfortunately I run into most of them.

Here’s what I’m asking for.  Someone that wants to know my mind, my heart and my soul. A tall, semi-dark, masculine, mature man, with blue eyes, salt and pepper hair, toned body, family oriented, with kids, a career, a car, educated, cultured, worldly, friendly, honest, loyal, caring, a good listener, a good friend, free will to do as he pleases, and above all a good, no I mean, great lover.

Okay. I’m dreaming. I know I’m not going to get it all. But, at least give me something from the list. I’m not going to settle for the first guy either. What I don’t want is someone who is a recluse, selfish, jobless (not because of the economy, but because he’s lazy), uneducated, a car that breaks down, living with four other guys or the ex, uncultured, deceitful, and not a good friend. I already have friends like that.

If I talk to you for the first time and we want to meet. Please, don’t ask me to snuggle and how big I am.


What the F*&^. Are we online and making websites? Or are we putting up a shopping cart? Maybe we’re throwing a party and he can’t host the thing.
Really? You can’t host? Does that mean I can’t come over? Because I really wanted to. (Sarcasm).
Why would you host? We’re supposed to meet in a public place, pay for my dinner, take to a movie and get to know each other. Not go to your place or come to mine and we can cuddle. For heaven’s sake, is that all we want? Sex with no words?
I’m looking for love in all the wrong places. Apparently Craig did a very bad job of listing his website to real people. I only see guys that want a quickie and then another one. I swear, someone needs to give me a better lead on dating. Where do I go? 
Blind dates? Really? I don’t think so. Every time someone sets me up on a blind date, he ends up being Queen for the night. Not a man. We end up giving each other make up and shoe advice. I’m exaggerating about the makeup. 
I’m tired of meeting guys that only want to cuddle. be my date if i’m generous and men who do not post. I really do not want to go to parts of town that are too dangerous for a gay Mexican. Not that I would anyway. 
Somebody give me a lead on a good man.

A Smile A Poke

A Smile A Poke
Really? A smile and a poke?  How about a greeting or anything. Grab your balls and say hi for pete’s sake.  Don’t just sit there naked in front of the laptop and wait for something to happen.  Be proactive and go forth my friend.
On the other hand. Don’t just ignore pokes and smiles. Someone wants to talk to you. You’re obviously on line for a reason. MAN UP!
Whenever I am on these hook up sites, these guys just send silly quirks to me. Like the word hi is a magical spell and we are goin to know each other well.  
I want a real conversation, not endless emails that get no where fast.  
Oh? But wait. It gets better. These bad-ass guys get offended or think I’m too forward when I invite them for a cup of Java. I should invite them to cuddle and I’m sure they would be at my door within minutes.

Divorced Queen

I go out on a date with a divorced man. Hey, I’m all for a straight guy. I like them straight, mean and dirty. Okay, not like dirt dirty, mean manly. So we meet. Nice guy, nothing wrong with him. So I thought.

As the hours progressed I noticed something peculiar about this guy. He seemed off some way. Like he was hiding something. I wasn’t sure.

Then the truth comes out. He’s always been a queen and because of his job and his marriage he’s had to play it straight. Literally.

He tried to play it straight and was not succeeding. I don’t know how his wife didn’t know that he’s a flaming queen? As the end of the night approached he became more flamboyant than me. He looked at his watch and noticed how late he was to go pick up his children from after school activities. He straightened out and left. Never to be seen before.

The Chaser

The chasers are the kind of guys that like chubby and big men. They like to slap the fat and watch someone jiggle with love. Some guy decides to email me that he’s a chubby chaser and wants to sleep with me. The idea of feeding me candy, chocolate (have me wear it and him lick it up). He tells me all about him, his size, his favorite things to do to a chubby and so on and so forth. He left no mystery at all. Plus he lived two blocks from me and invited me to a big, chocolate covered, devil’s food cake with hot chocolate and smores.

Nope. Couldn’t do it, wouldn’t do it and not doing it.I’m not about to be chased. If that was the case I want a hottie chasing me until I was a hottie too.


I went on a date with this older gentleman. He was from some foriegn country in Europe. His English was hard to understand. Anyway, we spent three hours at the coffee shop, we went for a walk, talked about his kids and his work.

We said our goodbyes, but he invited me to dinner. How could I refuse? Sushi. I dropped my car at my apartment and rode in his. Well, he decided to tell me about his ex that lives in the apartments across the street. I mean he told me how he watches the apartment. I mean, he parks the car in my complex and walks across the street to look inside the window and watch how his ex is doing it with different guys every night. I don’t mean a different guy every night. I said different guys (plural) every night.

Then if that’s not bad enough. He tells me about how he follows him to work, to the gym, to other guys houses. He talked passionately about his stalking.

Weeks went by and he called me to say hi and invite me to dinner. I declined each time and he left me alone because he got back together with his ex. 

I remember when I was 26, and had my own stalker. I convinced him to move away from the city because his life was in danger. Someone would tell his dad that he’s gay. 

Good Vibe

I went on a date with this guy. Obviously. Anyway, we’re sitting drinking coffee and talk about how I write and he’s a screen writer. We talk about our projects and give each other some insight into the other’s world. We spent three and a half hours talking. We each had two more coffees. It was nice. We exchanged phone numbers and business cards.

Days went by and he didn’t call so I called him. I left him a message and never heard from him again. I mean seriously, why waste my time if you’re not interested. BE HONEST.

Damn men. I swear I am going to stop dating men. I don’t mean I’ll date women, they’re hard to understand. I think I’ll be a monk. Chances are I’ll have more sex at a monastery.  Just saying.