Charlie

For a sexcation I always used to prefer Amsterdam, but I haven't been there for that in almost 20 years, so I doin't know what it is like now.

Oliver must have an in with God, because as soon as the party ended, He turned on the wind machine again.

It was a beautiful afternoon for a "pool event."

I just saw his new post post about "Seattle vs. Denver vs. Vancouver" a couple of minutes ago.

YOU'RE Back!!! (I hope you weren't in locked up in a mental institution in Canada.)

sigh--"When is he going to stop posing and take me out?"

I have lived on both coasts, and I could compare them on lots of different topics, but I wouldn't know how to compare them in general, especially since I lived on them during very different periods of my life. If you are asking me about sexual experience, most of it was on the East coast when I was younger, and I had very little experience on the West at any age. If you are asking about higher education, all my academic experience as a student and as an instructor was on the East coast, so I know little about the West other than by reputation. I prefer city life in the East, but countryside in the West.

When I was 24, I was in my first year of college teaching, and on vacation that summer I decided to bleach my hair blond. When the Fall semester began, I was in the faculty men's room when one of the senior professors, a very conservative former German businessman in his 60s who always wore a well-tailored gray suit and tie, and looked like he ought to also be wearing a monocle on a black ribbon, entered the room. As I was washing my hands in front of the mirror, I realized that he was staring at me. Then he said, "Mister ______, did you do something to your hair?" I expected some sort of disapproving remark, so I brightly replied, "Yes, I was in the sun a lot this summer and I decided to just help it bleach for a change." He continued staring at me for several seconds, and then replied in his usual arch tone, "It's really very becoming." I was stunned, and decided I had better let it grow out to its natural brunette as quickly as possible. I still have the ID card with my photo on it from that semester, and I really did look rather hot as a blond.

Strange that the stat post says 30 yrs old, but his text says he is "mid thirties."

If he's "lean," I'm "skeletal."

My mother grew up a family of "double first cousins"--as explained in the OP, they all had the same four grandparents. A brother and sister pair married another sister and brother pair, and for several years they all lived together with their children in the same household for economic reasons. This was in a New York City suburb, not in Appalachia. My mother and one of her cousins the same age looked so much alike that schoolteachers often mistook them for twins, and didn't understand why they had different last names. None of them, however, married or had children with anyone to whom they were related.

Those old Mercedes coupes are so hard to get out of.

"HANDSOME, HUGE and FAT cock." I assume the "handsome" is a description of the cock, because it certainly doesn't fit his face. And what strange travel destinations: Fords and Harrison in New Jersey? He really must be straight.

Given the rather negative reputation that Palermo has in America as a Mafia haven, I was rather disappointed that my tour of Sicily was scheduled to end there, but in fact I found it charming. My favorite places, however, were on the east side of the island (Taormina and Siracusa).

Many years ago, a very attractive man told me he would like to chain me at the foot of the bed so he could use me as a urinal during the night. That killed all my romantic fantasies. I politely told him that I didn't think we were a good fit for one another. The older I get, the less sleep I get, because I need to use a urinal at night. I go to bed most nights at 9, and would like to sleep 8 hours, but I rarely manage to get more than 6, because once I get up to go, I have difficulty falling asleep again. To my surprise, one night last week I slept for ten hours straight, but then I felt lethargic for most of the day.

I always thought it was a class signal: upper class men crossed their legs, while working class men crossed their ankles.

I feel bad for the dogs, trying to find somewhere to go, because they usually work on scratch and smell. My dogs were always confused when it snowed in the city back east, and taking them out to do their business on a snowy night was always frustrating.

My best friend was a newspaper delivery boy, too. He was introduced to gay sex by the teenage son of one of the customers from whom he had to collect his fees, one day when the guy's parents were not at home when he came to collect. They continued to get together for several years afterwards. My friend brought me together once with the guy, who was in his twenties by then; it was more than sixty years ago, but I still remember the guy as having the largest cock I have ever tried to suck, and I have no idea how my friend managed to do it.

Dick's Sporting Goods

Damn! I forget I left that in the back when I got home from the store.

One of the women in a Bridge group I belonged to lived alone and had a a cell phone and a life alert button, but she took them off one night to take a bath, had a mini-stroke and couldn't get out of the tub. The next day a neighbor noticed that she hadn't taken in the morning paper, so he went over and found her in the tub, alive but very wrinkled. Another friend came home from a hospital stay, but the social worker at the hospital couldn't reach him on the phone the next day. She called the number of a neighbor whose number John had given her as a contact person. He went over to the house and found John sitting on a chair in front of his open refrigerator door: he had apparently been looking in the refrigerator for something to make for dinner the night before, had a heart attack and died sitting there. You can't always be prepared.

OMG. How old is this photo of Sir Andrew Murray?

Nothing about the language in the ad sounds Russian. "GingerBeard" is the kind of nickname I would expect from a Scot. If he has a fulltime day job in NY, he is unlikely to be Russian, unless he simply has Russian ancestry.

I have never encountered that. At the few nail salons I used to use, I was given the first employee who was available, regardless of gender. For several years I have had pedicures at a podiatrist's office, because MediCare pays for them, and person who usually works on me is a young (probably gay) male.

My father never wore a wedding ring. My mother decided to have a thin platinum wedding ring; I don't know her reason, but I suspect it was because they got married secretly at a time when her employer refused to employ married women, so she could pretend it wasn't a wedding ring. When I got married ten years ago, I still had my grandfather's wedding ring, which I had inherited when he died in 1959, but it still looked new, so I decided to re-purpose it as my own. It is 14 carat, but it was made with gold from a gold mine that my grandfather owned shares in during the 19th century, so it had sentimental value for me. I have never had any skin reaction to it.