Charlie

It sounds like he accidentally used the text he had written for an ad on Silverdaddies.

That's sort of funny: I lived half my life in Philly. But that background did remind me of old places I have been in there.

George Nader, BTW, was a hunky B-level movie actor in the 1950s, whose photos in the movie mags always turned me on at that time. I later learned that he was gay.

I thought, "Well, that's a book by Ralph Nader about corruption in the auto industry that I didn't know about," and then I saw the cover.

What a grim-looking setting, almost like a prison.

He was using some of those same photos when I met him in NYC 14 years ago. He had a professional academic career at that time and escorted only for extra money and kicks, which probably explains why he disappears from the scene for long periods. I would at least ask for current photos before making a commitment, though he is the type of person who is likely to have taken good care of himself physically. He was an active member of this site at one time, and may still be on here.

I only take the things that my doctor says my most recent tests show that I need, such as Vitamin B complex and testosterone. My need for Vitamin D fluctuates according to how much time I spend outdoors in the sun (e.g., when I am playing a lot of tennis and swimming outdoors, my level is well into the normal range, so I don't take the supplement).

I rode once with friends in their new BMW from a small town in central New Jersey to Philadelphia. Although I knew the best and fastest route, the GPS kept telling the driver to take a different route, and then kept telling him how to get back to the route it wanted him to take. It drove both of us crazy. We don't have GPS in either of our cars; we always carry good maps, which unfortunately are getting harder and harder to find.

If the guy in the photos is 5'11", he certainly doesn't look like he weighs 210 lbs as advertised (though that appendage does look rather heavy).

I haven't activated Siri. In fact, I completely forgot she is an option on my phone.

I entered the texting world only a few months ago when I finally got an iPhone, but I rarely do it because I have such a difficult time typing anything on those tiny keys, so I have done it only when the message is very short and I have no other communication choice. I have had a tablet for several years, but I bought it for use only when I am traveling, because I don't like typing on a touchscreen--I prefer a real clackety keyboard like the one I use on my computer. What finally pushed me into at least having the option for texting was an experience of waiting for an electrician who hadn't shown up for an appointment. When he finally arrived, he explained, "But I texted your number a couple of times to let you know why I was going to be late?" I said, "That number is a landline!! It doesn't get texts." He looked at me in wonderment, like, "Dude, this is the 21st century."

Scene from a Busby Berkeley musical?

I remember being driven around in the Swiss Alps in a 2CV many years ago by a friend who was very upset and had been drinking; it had no seat belts, and I seriously considered trying to jump out.

There are three reviews of him on Daddy's under "Chris" in L.A.

Ernests Gulbis, who was a flash in the pan on the tennis courts (he got to the semis once at Roland Garros).

Any dog on a plane that is not in a carrier should be muzzled--it is just common sense.

Glad to know you are still above ground.

That one was scarier when I was on the beach than on the plane.

I used to the think that Kai Tak was the most unnerving airport to fly into, until I flew into Juneau.

Happens to me all the time.

No, but I assume I will be once the researchers start to mine them. I am sure the scholars will be clamoring for access to this site when my biography is written.

Well, all new guys are a gamble, so the venue is metaphorically appropriate.

Although souls are immaterial, there would obviously be trillions of them wandering around in the afterlife, so finding the one you want to connect with would probably be pretty difficult, unless each one has its own ID number in an accessible data base. I tend to think of it like moving around in a dark back room of a sex club in which I would occasionally run into someone I used to know, and we could have a conversation about what happened to us in our life/afterlife since the last time we met. That's all I really want to find in the afterlife, if there is one.

I have made arrangements with my alma mater to receive and archive all my personal papers when I die, rather than leave them to any individual. They were happy to do it, since I also left them a financial bequest.

I suppose they are both blindfolded so they can fantasize that they are actually having sex with someone different (you know: some hot young stud).