The 21st Century Gay Guy or Why The Blowjob Is the New Handshake

Why are the last two generations of gay men such absolute, unapologetic, ravenous whores?

I mean, these are groups of men who laugh at the notion of dating, calling it old fashioned. They've sped up the art of the 'meet andgreet' by replacing the customary handshake with a blowjob. And for some reason I wallow in the muck with these 20 and 30somethings who want nothing more than to be mercilessly fucked to within an inch of their lives.

And I'm like, "Before the appetizer?"

I have this horrible habit of falling in......fuck, I don't know.....infatuation with specific guys for reasons I create in my head. I like to think that along with the fact that they're typically beautiful guys who know how to balance just the right amount of 'bitchiness' with their gay maleness without it being ear splittingly queenie. Unfortunately, I paint unrealistic portraits of these guys. Every single time.

Willie in the early 90s. Kurt mid 90s. It's all the same. I'm beginning to think I should just hole up with this annoying Peruvian dude who won't stop calling and I balled him only twice. The upside, he speaks very poor English and is very submissive as most shallow gay men are when it comes to whatever it is that makes them tick. My ex's thing was feet. I'm turned on by intelligence. But there is no time to gauge whether he's intellignet or not when people like 'FuckLi*eMe' from one of the online fuck sites greets me with, "Fuck this ass." Every single time. Almost begging. Even as a gay man who has had his tongue in and out of some of the best looking guys in America (and some in Oklahoma), I find his approach a total dick softner. I can not and will not be rushed. What's the fucking hurry? And I'm not some egomaniac who says guys beg him for anything. Maybe to leave. Or to stop snoring, possibly.

I just can't get with this cold attitude. It makes the 'quickie' look like foreplay!

So for now, I'll endure the name calling. 'Prude'. 'Frigid'. It's typically from the gays who are so wrapped up in self confidence in knoiwing they're going to get what they want, they lash out like 16 year old ghetto girls when someone like myself says, "Nah. I'm good on that, playboy."

And then I turn and leave. I go home and resume mothballing anything that resembles a love life, then I turn on Amy because I still believe that even in death, Miss Winehouse's 'Love's a Losing Game' is like an anthem for the ages.