Reisr30

I don’t like Pizza Hut or Domino’s pizza but I grew up in Manhattan where you can get great pizza pretty much in any corner. I love pizza and remember having a hard time finding pizza I like when I moved to the Midwest for university; I guess I was spoiled by the options in NYC.

I don’t like Pizza Hut or Domino’s pizza but I grew up in Manhattan where you can get great pizza pretty much in any corner. I love pizza and remember having a hard time finding pizza I like when I moved to the Midwest for university; I guess I was spoiled by the options in NYC.

Wow that is one hot man and totally my type! Too bad he is straight but then again even if he was gay I wouldn’t have a chance in hell with him, sigh...

If you love pizza, then never ever move to Las Vegas. After living in Boston for so long (it's not all clam chowdah in Boston, they have some truly great pizza), I went into pizza deprivation here in Las Vegas. OMG, the pizza here is AWFUL!! It's like cardboard, ketchup, and Kraft American singles. Las Vegas is actually a great foodie town for almost every cuisine and taste, except pizza. After more than a decade here, I finally found a great pizzeria, run by a guy from New Jersey who knows what real pizza is. I don't miss the winters in Boston or the cost of living in NYC (lived in Manhattan for 3 years), but I sure as hell miss the almost limitless choices for great pizza.

Always hated Dominoes (and Uno’s).
 
Mass produced pizza....is just a bad idea.

Speaking from my own personal experience, I've definitely let people slip between the cracks. I'd say these instances were not intentional, but it can happen. For me, RM messages and personal emails seem to be the most common ways where someone can be lost in the shuffle. Maybe this info can add some insight from a provider perspective.

Something similar happened to me with a well reviewed escort other forum members rave about. I sent a polite email about setting up a time to speak, he responded positively and went silent when I tried to confirm. I just moved on; I decided in the end it’s his loss/issue and not mine. Plenty of other good guys out there who won’t flake.

I appreciate all the comments. I was not trying to be judgemental; I wanted to validate that I am interpreting what I read correctly.
 
I think adults are free to choose to do what they wish to. I just have no desire to have any association with PnP so I'll be looking at the smaller set of guys who don't.

I am seeing more and more adds include PNP. Is this a trend?
 
Perhaps I’m old fashioned but this automatically disqualifies the companion from being considered. Any association with drugs (even if they say it’s just their clients) for me is a non-starter no matter how attractive someone. So from my perspective the number of companions seem to be shrinking. Curious what others think.

http://78.media.tumblr.com/8c7141734fb3a2e5b0f5cd4a46aac7ed/tumblr_p3l2koDcfO1qgdh63o1_500.jpg

Ben was born in the hills of West Virginia where he roamed and survived on skills learned and honed, until he was brought into the throes of civilization, at about the time of his first birthday. Civilization, being what it is, placed him in a cage and handed down a death sentence to be performed within 10 days. Such is the fate of millions of domestic animals in the US each year. Ben, his captive name and the only one he would have, waited for the death knell. Given what I came to know of his nature, he likely lay peacefully in the back of the cage and stayed a fair distance from anyone who might have the notion to spare him from this fate. Despite this, a group came and took him from the cage and brought him to Castle of Dreams. Castle of Dreams is not a Castle and it is not something many would find dreamy, but they do offer "3 hots and a cot" or more accurately, 1 cold and a hold. And for several months, he ate the one cold and stayed in his hold and waited for something different, something better. At Castle of Dreams, each rescued animal gets a title long with with the captive name and so brown dog #73 as he was originally known, became Sir Ben, knighted by the sword of fate that smote the lock of his death row cell and brought him to this place. Reports are that he interacted well with other dogs, but his interactions with humans was guarded and skittish. He was hand shy and cowered at loud noises and loud voices, even if directed elsewhere. I hate to consider what manner of nature, beast or man could instill such fear into the what I came to know as a serene soul wrapped in long brown fur and with one of the coldest noses to ever wake a man from a sound sleep.
 
When I went to Castle of Dreams, it was to meet Princess Rose, a pretty lab mix puppy who caught my eye on a day I had the intestinal fortitude and the tissue supply necessary to go onto Petfinder. A phone call later and a marriage had been arranged. I was to meet the fair lady and whisk her off from her Castle to my Castle. The required two days passed and I arrived in my chariot to escort fair lady home. As fate would have it, another suitor suit her better and she was gone. However, Sir Ben was there, in the back of a cage which neighbored the cage that the Princess had vacated. He was offered as a sort of consolation prize and that is just what he was, a great prize of great consolation and just a bit unknowable.
 
In the 14 or so years we shared a home, Ben never got over his fear of loud noises, and a hand raised to get a glass or swat a fly might send him skittering off, sliding on the tile floors which were never his friend. He joined the two other dogs living with me and he apprenticed himself, or more accurately he became squire to Fred, a large black street dog, likely a Newfoundland/Lab mix, who like Ben, led a life out on his own and who eventually allowed himself to let down his guard enough to live with me in out home. Street royalty brought in to teach others what can be accomplished from humble beginnings.
 
Fred was old by this time and his time was short and so he quickly taught Ben the essentials. This is how we guard the perimeter. This is we mark our territory. This is our area for exercise and this is the area of hygienic purpose. Ben learned quickly. He slept with Fred, usually in a different room than I, while Rusty, the other dog sought solace in my bed and at my foot. They ate together, they played together. They huddled together in thunderstorms and then they said goodbye as I carried Fred out, an old soldier who had just no more life left.
 
Ben became the pater familias to the other dogs that came into my home, and three of them have been lying silently in canine grief, near his spot on the couch. Anyone who has ever witnessed the loss of a pack member from a pack of dogs knows the real grief these animals feel and I think if dogs could cry, my home would be flooded and washed out to sea in the torrent of canine tears that these three would be shedding. As it is, my tears will have to be the outward sign of their inner angst and sadness.
 
I will not go into great detail about Ben's life as a dog in my home. Suffice it to say, he was the most difficult of the pack to know. He would never take a treat first, even as four dogs looked up waiting to hear their name called, he would not take his first. If he name was called first, he would gently nuzzle away the offered treat until another name was called. After that, he was ready. It seemed he wanted to be sure that he was not being singled out for some special reward. That he wanted to be part of a team and that he would be assured that others were reaping rewards.
 
Friday night I returned from work. I am dogsitting a friend's dog and when I came in, Ben did not get off the couch. I opened the door and let the others our and I patted him on the head and moved on the change my clothing. I came out and he was lying by the front door. He preferred the front area, but I usually did not indulge him in this foray around the main entrance area. This day, I did and upon opening the door he did get up to look and smell and guard and dig and do all manner of his usual activities. He stood up and then sat and then laid down again. He did not seem to be in pain, but he seemed tired. I thought, too much instruction for the guest puppy had tuckered him out. Later, he walked a few steps and again seemingly without pain, stopped and then lay down. Working on the theory that this was just old age muscles, I escorted him to my bed, gave him a non steroidal medication and a treat and left him lying there. Later, he left the bed and in the middle of the night, I saw him sitting by his water bowl, by water bowl I mean the bathroom toilet bowl. Though there were always plenty of water bowls around, Ben loved cold water. In the winter, a water bowl outside would be assiduously licked to unleash its cold refreshing liquid and at other times, the cold toilet water was his beverage of choice. He could not be dissuaded from this. This fount of cold water was his fount of life. That fateful night, he stood and took a few laps of water and then lay down on the bathroom rug. I pet his head and went to bed and two hours later I awoke and walked to check on him. I found him lying peacefully at that same spot. I stroked his head, there was barely a motion of the tail and then a sigh and then no more. I took some of the cold toiler water and swathed his lips. My only hope is that last drink was really cold and really refreshing. That the cold water brought to his mind the cold streams of the mountains of West Virginia and a puppyhood that shaped the dog that shared my life. I hope those last drops quenched the fires of fear that had slowly faded over the years and that in that final pet on the head, he was able to fully accept that he was worthy of a special reward.
 
Thanks for sharing your life with me Ben. Last night I had a dream and this song played in it, and I think this was meant for you. I wont bore you all with the details of a golf game with donald trump which played a role in that same dream.
 

When I've had people ask if I party I like to be a smart ass I say yes. I then tell them I love a good party with some cake, ice cream, funny hats and games. That usually makes the crack heads go away.
 
Hugs,
Greg

When I receive a PM, I try to be helpful. But if it is an intrusive question coming from a newbie or a novice, I feign ignorance.

When I PM someone I am courteous and friendly - and I assume others will be the same. The overwhelming majority of PMs I've received, from both new and long-time members fit in that category. On the few occasions where a PM has not been friendly/courteous/etc I don't respond. I was one of the recipients of a message sent to a large group by a new member. The whole thing was odd, from the notion of sending a group message to the tone. I didn't reply.

That miniature pony is adorable! Yeah, we might see more and more of this. Apparently miniature ponies can be trained to do everything that a seeing-eye guide dog does. It's not much larger than a Labrador Retriever or the other breeds commonly trained to be guide dogs, and the miniature ponies can be house-trained. The big advantage is that miniature ponies live to about 25 whereas dogs live only to 10-15. Since the cost of a guide dog can be quite substantial, the greater life expectancy of the ponies is a significant advantage.

"IT rubs the lotion on itself and then places the lotion back into the basket"

Pretty CAN be crazy too !

God, dont any of you guys have a "caution gene" ??? You know, there ARE people out there that prey on Gays. You couldn't pay me to meet him one on one in a private place.
 
Cock and ass cant be more important to you than your Life ?

I wouldnt go to anyones place that I didnt know. If you are interested, suggest meeting in a public place and then play it by ear. There are alot of predators out there, Instagram or otherwise.

I mostly fly United so there goes my plan to get an emotional support cock...

I mostly fly United so there goes my plan to get an emotional support cock...

I mostly fly United so there goes my plan to get an emotional support cock...

I like how she tied a green ribbon on the pig.

Not trying to stir the pot or throw anyone under the bus which why I did not and will not name the companion.
 
As I said I appreciate the common sense responses and will ASK him.

Thank you for the common sense advice. In the end my protection is up to me so that helps me make up my mind...