A Man Of A Certain Age.

Hey Kids,

There comes a time in a man’s life when he realises that perhaps he isn’t quite as young as he once was – not to say that the gentleman in question doesn’t still have a youthful appearance and healthy vitality, mind you. He could even be said to have a childlike innocence and…OK, I’m not even fooling myself now and yes I am guilty of that most heinous sin – talking about my good self in the third person.

As I approach the end of my thirties, it has understandably led to a certain amount of introspection, although strangely I’m not anywhere near as freaked out by it as I thought I would be. Granted, I have had a mini-meltdown every birthday since my 25th but have just hidden it with increasingly elaborate celebrations…I’m sure nobody noticed.

I do believe, however – possibly as a result of massive self-delusion – that I’ve managed to artfully conceal the ravages of time with good grooming and the occasional adjustment from my faithful beauty consultant. At the very least I’m appreciative of all those wonderful people who humour me by steadfastly refusing to believe my real age when it is reluctantly revealed to them.

Thank the Gods…

In honour of my American readers, I thought that I’d take the opportunity to express my gratitude on this most sacred turkey day. Not that I’ve ever actually celebrated Thanksgiving myself, mind you, but any holiday where you test a body to its very limits – by seeing how much you could stuff inside of it – certainly has appeal. Besides, I’ve always been a fan on getting down on my knees to show how very thankful I am for the gifts bestowed upon me, regardless of the season.

After much time spent in the pursuit of manly pleasure, I have quite a good deal for which to be grateful. Of course, there is the overall awesomeness of gay sex itself, and my good fortune to have been accompanied by many strapping specimens of manhood in my adventures, but today I thought I’d try to be a little more precise. So, without further ado, it’s time to thank and acknowledge those certain wonderful qualities that have made my masculine romps extremely enjoyable over the years.

Good Lip Work – Nothing beats an expertly executed, passionate kiss. I’ve often found that if the gent in question is talented in this regard, then it’s a good indicator as to their prowess in general. Sadly, the inverse tends to hold true as well – if he can’t master this act it’s unlikely he’s able to use his mouth correctly anywhere else.

The Twink Whisperer…

Comment diable cela est-il arrivé ? Franchement, je suis encore tout retourné par la situation. Contre toute attente je suis devenu une sorte de modèle de sagesse et de tact. Ne vous inquiétez pas, je sens votre incrédulité, et je la partage. Mais c’est hélas vrai ! Forget ghosts, horses and dogs… I’m the  « Twink Whisperer».

Comment cela a-t-il commencé ? Vous vous souvenez de mon addiction pour Twitter ? Alors que je suis plus obsédé que jamais, je subis une évolution assez surprenante. Il semble que je sois devenu un guide pour des mecs plus jeunes  – une sorte de gourou les aidant à naviguer dans un monde gay déroutant.