Luv2play

Maybe those baguettes peaking out from the bags are supposed to suggest something.

Or French

He appears to like baguettes.

It’s called ‘reductio ad absurdem’.

Actually no. I’ve had fabulous experiences with both. Of course the main difference is with a masseur you end up having sex on a table and with an escort the massage is on a bed. At least that is how it has happened with me. With one regular masseur I engaged years ago over a several year period, his excellent massage on a table always progressed to me giving him oral and then him fucking me bent over the end of the table. And he was so hot, young and athletic. He never charged me more than the usual $100 at that time (20 years ago). But he never invited me into his bedroom, which was just in the adjoining room in his apartment. It was all very professional! With an escort, I only get a massage if they are good at it and it is an extended session at least two hours or more. Then it’s nice to get one and occasionally I will give one although I am just an amateur. They seem to appreciate it nonetheless.

Depending on the provider, it could stir romantic impulses. I know some who love to eat good stuff as I have gone shopping with them when doing an overnight or longer session such as a weekend. Their eyes light up when you go in the gourmet section of a food store such as they have in Montreal or Toronto.

It just came to me. Sir John Guilgud.

It must have been a lovely moment though.

I didn’t find any of them sexy.

I would find that somewhat extravagant. Here stamps cost a dollar and cards typically about 5 dollars. 150 would set me back a thousand. I can hire an escort for an overnight for that.

I send and receive a small number of cards each year. Either with family who I don’t see often or ever and a few friends from decades ago that I have kept in touch with but see only infrequently. It’s nice having these links and Christmas is the only occasion we correspond this way. And I have a few cards I can put on display in the living room.

Hot and friendly go a long way. Even if the interaction is somewhat limited.

IMO, there’s something between ending “VERY BADLY” and working out. Sometimes things just end, and while the moment it happens and you realize it’s over, is not a happy one for sure, quite soon you realize life goes on and you pick up the pieces and move forward. I actually can’t think of cases I know where things ended so badly that a person’s life was ruined. Obviously I’ve read of cases where someone committed suicide but that’s only something I’ve read about in novels or the classics like Romeo and Juliet.

Just to one-up you, a couple of weeeks ago I got a refund check for $50 on my house insurance from Allstate, which also insures my cars. On those they have been issuing me rebates since mid-summer each couple of months, since we are all driving less. And I didn’t even ask them for these rebates. Of course the cynical part of me noted that the house insurance rebate was mailed out just a couple of weeks before my policy was set for renewal.

For quite a few years around the turn of the century, I lived in close proximity to the gay dancer bars in Montreal, at least for part of the year, the rest being in South Florida where I also went to the bars in Miami and Ft. Lauderdale. I got to know quite a few dancers and had sex with many of them. Some I took home. One I fell for and we were together a lot of the time for over 4 years. With the latter our interests were broader than the bedroom as he was quite a good artist and I helped promote his work. In the end it didn’t work out as he developed an addiction problem which he couldn’t overcome and which made it impossible to live with him. The last I heard he was living in his mother’s basement. I still live his art, as I have a half dozen or so, two of which are major pieces, one in my living room and one in my bedroom. I watched him painting both pieces and they mean a lot to me.

Looking at the dimensions, I can visualize it, as my library at home is almost the exact same size as the room measures 13.5 x 10 feet. My room feels like a museum too, filled with art and treasures of a lifetime of accumulations. They all have a story to tell. Which they remind me of every time I look at something.

It was interesting that Giuliani was offered a trial participation for the treatment but turned it down because he was afraid of getting the placebo. He asked for Trump’s help in getting the drug, which is in short supply. Some hospitals are using a lottery system to make allocations of their limited supplies. If Trump likes you, you go to the head of the line.

What about the treatment with monocanol (sp?) antibodies? I read today in the NYT that it was producing good results (Trump and Giuliani both received it).

Love it. I’m connected with a small museum and I thought we were small. Hah.

Much worse.

How many casts were made of the Burghers of Calais? I saw the whole group in Calais (naturally) years ago. I think they were in the town square. We had one in Montreal on Sherbrooke Street for many years when I was going to university there but not sure if it is still there. It was outside the Dominion Gallery, owned by Max Stern, whose advice to me, a young collector when he was still alive, was to buy a masterpiece of a second or third tier artist if that was all you could afford, rather than an inferior piece of a master painter (all master painters have second or third rate works). Today, when a lot of art has become commodified, that advice may not always hold when people are prepared to pay for the name, not the actual merits of the work. But if you intend to keep the work and live with it daily, then his advice still holds, IMO.

While I am familiar with quite a few of the museums cited in this thread, one that has not been mentioned is the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, where I studied for 5 years as a young child. It will always be my favourite as it gave me an appreciation for fine art at a young age and an interest that has endured, both as an amateur artist and a collector. When travelling I always try to fit in a visit to a museum but also art galleries selling works. The Montreal Museum is Canada’s oldest (founded in 1860) and has a nice collection of Canadian and international art. In the last twenty years, the museum has greatly expanded and now encompasses a small campus of 5 buildings at the corner of Sherbrooke Street and Ave. de Musee, including a former church which has over 20 Tiffany windows and houses Canadian art. Not having the financial resources of some of the American museums (it is only the 18th largest in North America), they have to be nimble in acquiring contemporary works that are still reasonably priced before prices hit the stratosphere, such as the two J-M Basquiat’s that they purchased when they were priced in the thousands of dollars and not the millions like today. The museum itself is situated in the heart of Montreal, the so-called Golden Mile, a square mile which once housed most of Canada’s millionaires in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Some of those mansions, many of which still exist, housed fabulous art collections but on the death’s of their owners were dispersed (Cornelius Van Horne) or otherwise lost (the J. W. McConnell collection of old masters went up in flames in the 1960’s). Still, a lot remains.

On my visit there over 50 years ago a friend and I got locked in after closing time as we had wandered out into the gardens. As I recall the place was surrounded by high walls and fences. So we had to find a guard to let us out.

As a client, I have stayed in a couple of B&B’s which were gay owned and here I was able to bring escorts in to see me. Usually I stay in large hotels where I can do the same with privacy assured. As a guest in a gay/gay escort owned lodging, I wouldn’t mind sharing common spaces with either other escorts or clients as I am pretty relaxed in the scene. The only reason for wanting privacy in hotels is to avoid embarrassment to others and the awkwardness it could engender.