I’ve never felt so…
Out-of-control, impatient, ridiculous — imperfect. Even out-of-touch. Humiliated… of course, HOMOPHOBIC at times, irrational; exhibiting dual-personality and utterly masochistic tendencies.
Now, you have to remember that I was an early Internet adopter (I was hooking-up through my BBS [if you don’t know what this is, good for you] in the early 90s) but this new-fangled Internet hook-up is so…degrading, demoralizing, dehumanizing, debasing, de- this, and de- that! And fucking time-consuming!
When did sex stop being about fun? Is this the best $25 will buy me on the Internet? (for the membership you whack-jobs…)
My fantasy is to meet some people who I don’t fear going out for a beer with (at the corner bar not the gay bar). Or taking to a hockey game. Maybe that’s coming of age and finding that hooking up in Vegas or LA is the hardest thing to do.
Case in point, I was propositioned for some action recently. Guy seemed cool at first. Then comes the 50-questions: are you partying? What do you like doing? You get into wrestling? You get into 3-ways? You ever done it in the shower? You traveling or staying in? You want to fuck me? You want to cum on my chest or in my butt? You like your nipples played with? And on. And on.
And I don’t mean all in one message – in many successive messages spanning more than an hour and a half. By that time I’d jacked off and was in bed, woke up to additional messages after I’d finally called it quits and took matters into my own hands. (literally)
So I ask you sane people once again, when did sex stop being about fun? And I mean fun with people you want to have fun with not the troll we all laugh at when he passes.
End of rant…
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