Warning... this is an adult site. If reading or viewing things about what gay men do sexually with one another bothers you - you should not read this blog. This blog is a reflection of my adventures and thoughts. Some are fun, some not so pretty. I won't name names, or kiss and tell... but I will live to tell. And baby, trust me - I am gonna spill it all over your pretty little party dress. Enjoy!
When I think of an outlet for release, gardening is certainly not the first activity to spring to mind (well, not my mind). However, it served exactly that purpose this weekend. It was a great escape; digging in the dirt turns out to be a great way of venting anger, frustration, anxiety and fear. Not that I was strangling posies, no, far from it.
With chaos reigning down all around us this weekend, I found myself avoiding the newscasts, internet news outlets, social media and neighborhood sites. Still, news of what was happening found me. Well-meaning neighbors took it upon themselves to knock on doors and inform people of nearby issues, warning us to put our vehicles in garages, to pull our trash cans out of the alley (people were setting them on fire), and to keep our porch lights lit.
I was getting texts and calls from my ex (he tends to run on anxiety) and my youngest sister (very concerned about my mother's well-being). I did what I could to assure them that we were all doing our very best to keep everyone safe.
Word of phantom out-of-town cars sans licence plates being spotted in our hood (true) and additional looting (untrue) spread like tear gas in an angry crowd. Sorting out the truth from rumor was difficult.
I simply kept my head down... digging in a different kind of dirt.
Weeding gives one a great sense of power, especially when feeling powerless. Which is what we all were.
This grand scale drama continues to play itself out throughout the Twin Cities. I'm sure you've caught snippets on the news. The National Guard, military forces, the media, government officials, the MPD, the protesters, concerned citizens, community activists - all have their roles to play. But with the Covid-19 pandemic still playing itself out, and the death of George Floyd scarring our collective conscience, all the looting, instigating, inciting, arson, intrigue... it all seems a bridge too far; a brick of pathos dropped upon an already stacked dramatization.
Its far from over.
Even after the provocateurs have left the stage, the machinations of our legal system will work to keep this story front and center; yet another constant reminder of our failings as human beings. If only empathy came easily to all, perhaps this travesty could have been avoided.
But its here. Bleeding on our front walk. Every day.
And I'm glad.
It's time all of this bad energy had its day. Time for it to all be aired and vetted and dissected. While I deplore the events, I support the best intentions of the protesters. They represent change and transparency. It's unfortunate that their message is getting lost in the glut of media distortions, tainted by political hackery and opportunism, and sabotaged by those using George Floyd's death as an excuse to act out, exploit, profit or take advantage.
What to believe?
That truth will win out. I trust Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison. I trust Governor Tim Walz. Their hearts are in the right place. Their track records demonstrate the integrity needed.
In the meantime, I will be keeping my head down...
I bought my first dildo at the start of the pandemic, March 1st.
I bought my second dildo yesterday.
Here are some things I learned along the way:
l Careful what you buy. Your eyes may be bigger than your hole. Better start small and then move up in size later. Your hole will thank you.
l Careful what you buy. Buy silicone. My new one is platinum cured silicone, satin smooth. It cost more, but is worth it.
l Careful what you buy. Look for ones that say ‘phthalate free’. Phthalates are dangerously toxic and will make you sick.
l Careful what you buy. Does it say ‘For Novelty Use Only’. Then it should not go up your ass, dear.
l Careful what you buy. This is going in your body. This is not the time to look for a bargain or play Mr. Pennypincher. You get what you pay for. Buy safety.
l Douche. Nobody, including your dildo, likes a dirty bottom.
l Put a rubber on it. You won’t notice the difference and Mr. Dildo won’t mind. This is for your dildo’s protection as well as yours.
l Clean it with soap and water before and after use.
l Buy one with a suction cup on the end so you can stick it to the wall of your shower or floor. It really changes things up - and variety is the key to a happy life.
l Getting it all in? Not that important. This is not an all or nothing kind of scenario. More important? Comfort, safety and fun. Think about the health of your hole; present and future.
l Open yourself up with your fingers and some lube before attempting to insert your dildo. Your hole will thank you.
My first dildo. I thought, oh, yeah… 9”. Bring it on. It was $43 and there wasn’t a lot of info on the label. Missing? What it was made of. I asked the clerk for help. He was no help. Got it home. Opened it up. Phew. It smelled - a harsh chemical smell, like a plastic factory. I knew that was not a good sign, as I had read up on what to avoid before going shopping. The site said that it shouldn’t smell and that the smell generally indicated that the material it was made of was not something you wanted in your butt. I washed it with soap and water and hoped for the best.
I was really excited to try it out. My attitude in the past had been that toys were for losers. Well, strange how your opinions can change as you age and/or are forced to turn down all offers of sexual intimacy due to a pandemic. Paint me a loser!
Anyway, I was so excited, I opened up my tub of Elbow Grease, slicked that sucker up, stuck it to the wall in my shower and began to ease my twitching rosebud upon its vaguely fleshy looking head. So excited, I didn’t put a condom on it. Thankfully, I had douched!
The width was a real issue. After about 15 minutes I realized that I needed to pencil in more time in order to accomplish this particular task. No problem. We’ll circle back later and get better acquainted. I did a thorough clean up with soap and water and moved my new friend into his new home: my sock drawer.
Within 20 minutes I was sick to my stomach. I thought about that smell. Those fumes were in me. This spell lasted well into the evening. I decided I best air Mr. Dildo out for awhile before attempting anything more.
Three days later, I washed it up and started the whole process again. Again, I forgot to put a condom on it, but I did douche. It was fun and going better this time… lots of Elbow Grease. And a little poppers. Then a lot of poppers. Oh, my. Yes, my eyes were way bigger than my hole. It was not the length… it was the width. By the time I was done, my poor hole was destroyed. It would be two weeks before I could play down there.
As I was cleaning up, I noticed that the lube had taken on the color of the dildo. Again. Not a good sign. That meant that whatever dye that was, whatever chemical? That was leaking into me, too. Fortunately, I did not get sick.
I made a note: put a condom on it.
Two weeks went by. My hole got happy again. We went for round three. I douched. I put a rubber on it. I opened myself up with my fingers first, using a generous amount of Elbow Grease. Then, I took a lot more time with the dildo, I did less poppers, and used more Elbow Grease. I changed things up. I stuck it to the shower wall, then laid on my back and manually manipulated it, then I stuck it to the floor and straddled it. I had a lot of fun. But I also destroyed my hole again, although, not nearly as bad as the first time. I cleaned things up with plenty of soap and water and put my big buddy to bed in my sock drawer.
And then I started thinking… maybe the first one you bring home is not necessarily the one you want to make your one and only. Yep, I was thinking of downsizing and going upscale.
Which I did. This time, I read the backs of the packages. That’s when I noticed that little disclaimer - For Novelty Use Only. I know the dildo industry is rife with crappy vendors, but I cannot figure out why my little gay boutique would sell such garbage. That’s when I noticed a different area in the store. These dildos were better packaged and much more subtle in their marketing. They were also more demure in scale.
I tried out my new friend last night. No poppers needed. And I had fun. Not my kind of fun. But it was fun. What it wasn’t was work! It felt more natural and was simply easier to use. Plus, this morning there’s still a lot of spring to my pucker.
So buyer beware.
I have a feeling this topic will end up being an entry in the Acquired Tastes series. But this will do for now.
