There is a secret you learn when you get close to muscle men. You have a hunch about this secret before venturing close to them, but only when you are accepted and taken into their family do you truly learn the magical wonderful intimate ultimate truth...
That they are assholes. My God - there are so many men (so many many many men) I would like to give you a detailed story about, but my mind is so mobbed with experiences of only the truest fuckedupedness that I cannot even focus. I'm going to have to create a detailed list of all the sociopathic muscle types. After I investigate them all. I know, I'm not done and I know it's sad but it's also SOHOT.
I can share with you that the last guy I got to know was so into himself that I wouldn't be surprised if he videotaped himself beating off in front of a mirror and then watched the tape later and beat off to it.
Something to warm the heart. This is some guys profile picture to hook up online. He kept mailing me "Come on, you're hot and I'm funny! We'll have the best time ever!" Well he said something like that. Should I go for it? Should I change my tastes and take refuge in the healthy loving fun of humorous nice guys! ...NEVER! I'm going to dash my body on the sharp pectoral rocks of the next self absorbed tan monster that grabs me by the elbow and showers me with compliments like "You'd look good with me!". You can't just change what you're into to suit your own personal well being. Desires don't work like that. They just don't budge.
1 comment:
i recall one muscle-y idiot who spent our whole time together looking at himself. made me sick. i was awful, because he asked me to watch a plant while he went away & i let it die, kind of on purpose.
the lower photo of the guy with the oar looks great.
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