sync

They both have so much of the same things, I can't make a choice (nor would I want to).

I would love to have his legs (for about an hour or two a couple times a week).

I see what appears to be "about one foot."

Wow! I may have to put aside my fear of flying.

Number 28 to go, please.

"I believed that all of my interactions and relationships were always welcomed and consensual." I don't understand how he thought making that statement was a good move.

If the photo of himself in his employment uniform identifies his employer, his discretion needs work.

While I prefer first-sight squeaky-clean, this gentleman's potential is deliciously obvious.

Anyone here remember an awesome "negotiating" bar that was on Eighth Avenue at about 50th street in NYC named Haymarket? So much fun.

I was able to get it up just now (the Friendboy site, that is).

For me it was great to find a happy-hour after work for drinks and conversation. There was easy-listening music, perfect for happy-hour chat, then a change to club music for dancing later. It was sad to watch the death of happy-hour. The younger bartenders began to play club music at happy-hour, which made conversation next to impossible. The happy-hour crowd complained, but to no avail, and soon happy-hour was gone. That was back in the 1990's. I don't know if happy-hour survived somewhere, but I never found it again.

This image is the closest I've seen him to the all-together.

I'm not a cyclist, but are bike tires normally that flat? Great arms though.

Back in the 1990's a female coworker told me she worked part-time as a "receptionist" for an "agency" and that one client had recently paid $30,000 for an overnight with one of the girls, plus round-trip airfare NYC-London-NYC and the young woman's personal expenses. I also remember reading of a young Frenchman with an enormous attribute who was charging $1,000/hr and was continually hired by women for weekends and longer who raved about him rendering them "unbelievable orgasms." Ah, in my next life.

Hubba! Hubba!

Eons ago there was a bar on East 53rd Street at First Avenue in NYC named The GH Club. It catered to seniors and was a lot of fun. I was counting on that bar being there for my present age, but it closed quite a while ago. To the best of my knowledge there is presently no comparable bar in NYC. I occasionally drop by the Town House to visit with acquaintances, which comes as close to the GH Club that I am aware.

Blinded by the glare of other things perhaps?

I would never be heard from again, and I would want everyone to be happy for me.

My paranoia has been at work again. It seems suspicious and all too timely to me that, repeatedly, whenever the Dow tanks, money seems to come from somewhere. My suspicion is that Trump's dark-money cronies carefully watch the Dow, and whenever it seriously tanks, they pump it back up just enough to save Trump's ass. I would like to get opinions on two fronts: (1) how likely/possible is it that my suspicion could be valid; (2) have any of you had similar suspicions? Thanks.

Considering you are really attached to "Scratchnsnifff" and feel it fits you really well, I believe you should give it a reasonable test-time period to evaluate the quantity and quality of responses.

I would really like to be able to imagine an up side within these circumstances, but I just don't see any possibility for a soft landing within this flight plan. I wish you a safe and pleasant experience should you decide to participate.

I prefer one piece...at a time.

I guess I'm just too old for it. The roller-coaster restaurant does not appeal to me what-so-ever.