arrowinflight

Stillness and distance

Sun, 03 May 2026 19:13:41 GMT

No hookups here. Just May's call to the relative. Go back one post for some fucking of the good sort.

I laid it out to begin. That I lost the plot, which was seeing if I had somebody I could trust when what's going on in the world gets where it's going, instead getting stuck on the things that were being used as signs of being able to trust. Specifically the two in play were having her admit to the truth which has been clear forever about the 24 years of one hobby or the now 11 years about the state of the world, though the family's refusal to go to family therapy and the manipulation behind that when we were told by a professional that we had one of the most toxic family dynamics he had ever seen- and he had absolutely seen some shit over the years- was starting to come into play as well and that got in the way of the fact that I had gotten my answer long ago. When it comes down to it I won't even have that last one.

Baudrillard, "Simulation and Simulacrum" is having its day in the sun but we've been doing those things unconsciously in countless forms forever. No, I haven't read it. I've just gone through the synopses and the simplified version is enough for most purposes.

A lot of denial. My favorite line was "all I did was say hello" as if nothing before the thing immediately before my laying it out mattered, one that came up again later. That said there was less disengagement than hoped for. Many things along the lines of "we both know what's going on here and I'm not engaging with it", but never going into the anger. Always with a tired, detached voice since that's where we are right now.

She did manage to get a few little pieces of information out of me which hasn't happened at all lately so there is a failure there. Things like I have a mattress now, the roommate's pets are leading to itching in certain areas constantly plus I know it's the pets since it goes away when out of town, and that a colonoscopy is the plan. It ended with an attempt to get me calling on Sundays which isn't going to happen but my response was put in terms of noncommittal.

It will be another still day. Later in the week I hope to do a clean and head into town to find random hookups.

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This is a beginning

Sat, 02 May 2026 23:41:58 GMT

I did forget to say that the guy at Steamworks that Berkeley bear got for me while I was blindfolded did breed me. Proof did leave my body later.

I'm back in Arcata. Two more rounds of train issues along the way: first, a four-hour stop north of Everett due to a bridge having issues, then we had to go back and take a bus down. We got in six hours late so my choice was get an Uber to Eugene, which Amtrak did offer which is surprising service as I always expect heavy enshittification, like when Flixbus more or less told me to fuck off after getting stuck in San Bernardino and there was no refund of any kind given. I stayed in Portland and slept, making no effort to do anything fun since sleeping on trains somehow works less well than sleeping on buses. The next day was heading down to visit Berkeley bear who was up for me staying a few more days. No fucking since I'm a weirdly domestic ho. Having someone where there's some sort of connection even if it's not full relationship does so much. After spending an extra day I attempted to head back up. My train was delayed and while on with support I watched the next train that was going through Martinez, the last one on the board, change to "delayed" which we all know is a euphemism for "not happening". That meant calling Berkeley bear and asking to stay another night. At least I caught up on sleep. Also it is a terrible feeling when a stripped ball from a tongue barbell comes out on a bus and you have to spend five hours making sure the rest stays in.

Last night housewarmer bear got in touch about meeting up with me tagging along for errands as a possibility today. Meeting with the pair from before also came up as a possibility which did end up happening, me doing a quick cleanout instead of the usual, and so it was back to the place where I had been before with the same crew. Clothes came off and there were four gay men sitting around, porn on the TV which had unfortunate use of condoms, two naked tops and two bottoms, one in underwear and me in the white jockstrap.

There is something awkward about a situation with two bottoms. It felt like I hogged loads last time and my take on all of that is not normal. It feels like in one of these situations it's an asshole move to hog tops no matter who you are but so many guys will only feel bad about it if they're not the one getting all the dick. As someone who wants to be better than that there's always trying to figure out what's appropriate. Not at the level of social acceptability since, as someone who is fundamentally not socially acceptable, that doesn't matter much to me anymore. So my thought was, as someone who didn't cum for the entire trip, it would be an idea to have the bottom get me off. Give him that two-week load. That meant putting time into trying to get off and failing. So less being a piece of the action. But I did work on the new bear who may need a name, taking his dick down my throat until I got on all fours. He didn't want me on all fours. He wanted me on my back and it is amazing to see a man with a handsome face and furry chest above you going inside and using you. He got in quickly and asked if it was okay, then didn't take long before there were all the signs of reaching the edge. Turns out he was about ready to blow before he got in there so now his seed has become part of me. Always a good feeling though hooking up with him again is a must.

Things didn't stop then. Various chat, still going at it, talking about adding cameras to the mix complete with bringing up that there is video of me up on a friend's sex blog, more tries getting off for the other bottom. I did later take it upon myself to head back to the new furry bear and bury my face in his chest, play with his nipples a bit, and make out, then more burying my face in his chest. Highly recommended.

The other bottom got his second load and I did spend time sucking on housewarmer bear. Eventually he said he did want me to ride him since he's a fan of seconds and I obliged, taking a moment to get ready since he's thick. While I put my fingers in the other top, who was leaving, took time to come back and stick his tongue in my ass. He left soon after and I started riding housewarmer bear, then got on all fours to get him off. He stopped eventually and the other bottom got the load, but some was dripping off the end of his dick and I was sure to wipe it off with my finger and get it. The other bottom did get some footage of the poundings.

I'm excited to think that there's the beginning of a Humboldt sex life here. Sometime I'll do a mid-clean, head into Eureka or Arcata some night, and go from one top to the next.

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Consider this a footnote

Sun, 26 Apr 2026 02:59:16 GMT

The plan was to get laid sometime tonight but it didn't happen so none to talk about here.

I went to hit downtown Bellingham then maybe find guys tonight. I was worried given the one guy but eventually stuffed all my things under the bed and walked out. Then a sketchy-looking guy standing in a corner in the parking lot got out his phone and took a picture of me coming out.

I went back in, got all of my stuff from under the bed, and brought it with me, going full homeless chic with bringing a large backpack around. The sense of dread never went away.

The Filipino place is still my favorite from going from Bellingham down to San Diego so it sucks that it's 650 miles from home, 1200 if you account for the route that has to be taken. The fact that the guy who runs it is very cute and very nice doesn't enter the equation there. There was a bit of chatting with him and some guys at another table. Friendly people. The art vending machine at one store ate my five bucks but don't care. The Granny and the Gators at the comic store was a rental, it seems, so it wasn't there. Downtown Bellingham is still fun to walk around. Overall the thing that killed the trip here was the motel, the guy not telling me he wouldn't be available until I got here not being that important. Bellingham is still a nice town. Way less insular than other places in the Pacific Northwest and one I'd still be happy living in. One where there is this likely goodbye, one which did not go as planned, but it's fine.

I went to clean out but being tired and forgetting the Imodium and Metamucil meant horrible things kept coming out, things that had no business being in there. That meant not trying tonight either but with the worries about the people at this motel it may have been for the best. Tomorrow is the train to Eugene and after talking to Berkeley bear we'll see what the trip back to Humboldt looks like.

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Peace in goodbyes

Sat, 25 Apr 2026 03:20:40 GMT

No sex here. Just ruminations on the trip.

Eugene was Eugene. I did what I dropped by to do, the thing I don't talk about which went very well, and almost hit the gloryhole but it and catching up on sleep after a late-night train ride was most important. Apologies to Berkeley bear for having to leave early but he understands. Had a jianbing which I haven't had since Brooklyn and which joins the list with mapo tofu (the real version with pork) and okonomiyaki as things that should be everywhere. Maybe the good hot chicken there is possible on the way back. But again, Eugene is Eugene. If you say you're from California people's faces instantly turn to hatred and it has to be noted that, when I was on Sniffies the previous time I was there, bringing up California instantly ended every conversation. They hate the entire California crew despite the fact that California is at least five states in a trench coat (Lower Cascadia, Jefferson, Bay Area, Central Valley, and Southern California) and Lower Cascadia, going through Del Norte, Humboldt, and upper Mendocino is culturally more the Pacific Northwest than the rest of California. Maybe Jefferson is also if you're considering the shitty parts of the Pacific Northwest. There is a Cascadian independence movement that has flyers up in Eugene but they notably talk about Washington and Oregon being this new nation, the unspoken ideology getting in the way of what is real.

You can get flavored Zyns in Oregon and Washington. In California you can only get those, along with menthol cigarettes, from the vending machines at the Indian casinos. Washington does it best, allowing the flavored ones but charging out the ass for them.

I was telling the guy I've talked to a few times up here in Bellingham, including several times this week, that I was coming by. Just got the "we're busy" now. But I did say I'd come back. I fulfilled my piece of it and that's enough. Word kept and that's what matters. No anger. That sounds like a good way to close the door. This is my goodbye to Bellingham and it should be complete, much like how never hearing back from the top from Brooklyn kept that break clean. I'll try being a ho a little bit anyway and do what was planned for tomorrow.

That said I don't feel exactly safe here. I checked in and the guy at the front desk said that it was my lucky day and I could get a discount if I paid in cash. I said I didn't have enough on me and he said it was okay and there was an ATM nearby. That didn't sound like something to trust so card it was. He made the remark that if I do any drugs he'll be sure to kick me out. The first room I was put into was one where the card didn't work at all. The second, according to the tablet on the front desk, was a pet room and dirty, which I was not meant to see. The results of a good day at the red flag factory and several people have agreed that that sounds like somebody who wanted to pocket the cash. Maybe I'll invite guys over tonight and tomorrow is hitting other things in town, then it's time to head back but there is always wondering if anything else is going to happen with the asshole. All of this should be fine for a goodbye and saying goodbye is sometimes all that matters.

Now for a family thing. You can skip this.

I've been thinking. I've been trying to get truth for so long, admission to what has been there all along, but it has never come. I've been too honest at times, gotten angry, stopped calling for extended periods, and nothing has worked. But I understand now. I've lost the plot. A big piece of that was about the state of the world now. That I need allies. A way to stay safe in the overwhelming chance that what looks like is coming does. But you get lost in the sauce. Trying to make everything okay. Repair things. Have it where I can trust the one blood relative I still talk to again. But that isn't going to happen. There is no refuge. No safety there and I understand that. So for the next call there will be no anger. Just saying this. There's no more engaging with the games since there's nothing to gain, but that's something that comes up in life so often. Nothing to gain so it's time to walk away and there's peace in that.

There is peace in giving up.

Persistence works sometimes but you have to know what things need to be given up on. My next call will be much calmer and there will be no playing the game.

I miss the one bird the family has. Or had. He may be dead. But even six years after leaving home he would hear my voice on the phone and chirp happily for me. But the rest, including all the property still there, is gone forever. The economic tether will go soon and then that break is clean. There are those that care for you. Those who love you. And here there's Berkeley bear and Mark.

Maybe someday there will be more.

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Making it quick

Tue, 21 Apr 2026 03:55:05 GMT

You know how it went. Short full version: going or not depended on two things. Berkeley bear: if the steam room is open. Me: if cleaning worked, mid-clean not full. Steam room open, cleaning successful. Fuck. I felt increasingly queasy as we got closer figuring it would go badly. First bad sign: it was supposed to be lights out but there was more light than most times I've been there. Got my ass ready though it was more painful than usual since I have a tear, got ignored in the sling with my blindfold and earplugs except a trans girl or crossdresser complimented my look and later asked if I wanted them to dance for me the answer to which you would not be surprised by, tried getting guys on the apps, put my ass up in my room and other locations to no avail, listened to the rain hammering the roof, got brought to one of the fuck benches by Berkeley bear so he took a turn then one other guy did though another had me jerk him off for about ten seconds before leaving, other guy may or may not have finished, noticed a smell that was not a sign of failure to clean but you always worry when a smell is around, sat there while clusters fucked around me, back to my room, guy who was supposed to come by and fuck me decided to not come after learning the lights were in fact more or less normal, hot tub, left throwing my membership card in the trash along the way.

Honestly it was slightly better than the average night in the last six months of my time living in the Bay Area most likely entirely due to Berkeley bear selling me. It's safe to assume without him I'd have been untouched but there were fewer "why are you here" looks from strangers than usual. You get the idea. Each place has its own taste and I am not to the taste of Bay Area gay, hence swearing it off. You go where people are interested in you, hence the motel rooms and Sac Buddies in Sacramento, CCBC during certain events but not Palm Springs proper, and the odd motel room elsewhere. Some of the Humboldt boys seem promising too but the locations there aren't set so it's hard to fit that into that sentence. I've gotten in touch with one guy I met up with several times in Bellingham and am looking forward to seeing him later this week. But first tomorrow here, a night in Eugene where the choice is the thing I don't talk about or the back room that's even closer to the hotel and the back room already loses, and then it's a few days in Bellingham. Take the trip before it's impossible.

It was worth going out tonight. This probably marks the last time somebody suggests Steamworks Berkeley.

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Snow coming out of season

Mon, 20 Apr 2026 04:25:14 GMT

So I'm hanging out with Berkeley bear. I was supposed to leave tomorrow but he wants me to stay a little longer so heading out on Wednesday. During those extra days he wants me to hit the bathhouse with him for a specific event. You may recall that I have sworn off Bay Area gay entirely and have said no to his bathhouse recommendations several times but he might have me despite the fact that several things this trip have gone catastrophically enough where I'm not doing too great. I'm quietly freaking out and the freakout if that goes badly may be very not quiet. But at least the thing I don't talk about went well in a sense. It feels tempting to talk about that in an abstract sense, in terms of the social aspects of it and letting go, shedding all the baggage attached to it, but it feels like saying that much is enough. Oh, plus good food of course, which works against fucking.

After all of this I will head up. Berkeley bear wants me to hit a specific gloryhole in Portland if I go by there so the plan, if I go there, is to hit that one and the second despite distance between the two. Both in the same day, mind you, one after another. But that requires spending two nights in Portland so we'll see if that's realistic after Bellingham, which has a friendly, homey feel to it so even if things go badly it's a place I miss. To hit Bellingham it requires spending a night somewhere between Eugene and Seattle so the current thought is Eugene. That's the sort of place to go to and leave the next morning without feeling like I missed anything. Maybe even do the thing I don't talk about there. Eugene, during my visit, felt crushingly insular. I remember some of those places in Eugene where you can feel there is so much love and community if you're a part of it. You will not be a part of it. So it's Eugene, Bellingham for the actual trip, and let's see where I stop on the way back. I'll need to talk to a certain guy from Bellingham before heading up.

Then there's trying to figure out if I can see Mark in Sacramento somehow.

There was no response from the guy from Brooklyn. Guess it was a simple mistake and there was no catching up or thought involved. But then some of the guys in Humboldt have talked to me along the way. Sure, it can't happen this weekend but I'm looking forward to more once I get back.

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A memory can remain

Wed, 15 Apr 2026 05:11:23 GMT

I got a call early today. It was a New York number that I didn't recognize so I didn't pick up. As I tend to do when I get one of these numbers I googled it fully expecting to see something associated with a scam or some company I don't want to do business with. Instead a name came up. The first name was familiar. Someone I knew back in NYC. One of the dudes that used to double-team me with this other top. The dudes who blew some of the biggest loads I've ever taken and could go several rounds. So I looked at more. There was an address associated with it.

The street in Brooklyn was familiar too.

It was the street that he had lived on.

It's him. I'm certain.

Back in the day I stopped talking to the two of them. Avoided them due to the shame. One time I'd gone over there they'd blown their massive loads into me and one of them took another turn. I think it was the time when the guy who called had, for his second load, gone for my mouth, but that's lost to memory, but even then this is a good story so may as well tell it. I was lying with my head on the pillow and as always the sperm just kept coming. My mouth kept filling up and I felt it get to the point where I had to take shallow breaths since I could feel, whenever I'd inhale too deeply, that it was starting to get into my sinuses. His orgasm ended right before there would have been no avoiding it regardless of how breathing went. At that point mid-cleans were foreign to me and deep cleans were and still are a bit sketchy so during getting fucked hard for another round by the other guy there was a problem. A bit of a mess. A failure as a bottom. I apologized, felt horrible, and figured that was fucking up too hard to have the nerve to contact them again. They'd find a bottom that wouldn't fuck up like that.

Later on, after moving to San Francisco, I'd gotten a call from the other one looking to hook up. It had been a long time since we'd spoken and he didn't know about the move. But this is over four years later and for some reason he wanted to get in touch. Knowing who it was there was the urge to call back but also the nerves. It has been so long. After a few hours I got the nerve to try. No answer. To voicemail we go and of course I left a painfully awkward message. After all, phones are weird. It's abstracted one level from interacting with someone in person and voicemail, losing any sense of a dialogue, gives a second level of abstraction. But I left the message and will probably try calling again early tomorrow.

It felt like the break from NYC was total. Complete. A place that was but could never again be and in a sense it is. But here he is and there's a gladness that comes from the possibility of maintaining a connection. It could have been an attempt at a booty call, going deep into history to find somebody willing to take some raw dick, but maybe there was something else in the memory. Hopefully we'll find out.

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They who know not dentistry

Mon, 13 Apr 2026 19:28:13 GMT

I set up a meeting with housewarmer bear on Saturday. Hope that name works. He wanted to head down to look at a certain antique shop but had a few errands to do along the way with some lunch in play also. I'm not opposed to the whole "have somebody around while you get stuff done" thing. It's underrated and whether getting stuff done is mutual, just mine, or just someone else's it works. Peace in camaraderie. Companionship in silent and noisy ways. I understand that's not uncommon in a lot of Europe and it's becoming a Gen Z thing here.

This was after Thursday when the intention was to head down and do karaoke after doing a full cleanout. Between songs I would get on Sniffies and find tops hosting nearby. The assumed result was that I'd end up getting drunker and drunker well past the realm of the appropriate, as tends to be the case when I'm in positions involving alcohol but not sufficiently good human interactions. It's like how I'll get way too stoned at night when I'm alone at home but not when doing actual things. The rain was heavy enough to get in the way.

As a final note before getting to the story I came across a comedian on youtube who also does skits where there's autism, ADHD, and AuDHD talking about how they deal with certain situations. I am painfully the AuDHD guy which I knew before but hadn't quite realized that you would not even know that the one is the sum of the other two based on behavior so it's best to switch the descriptor. But, and I say this not having ADHD meds, a big fuck you to the one idiot who refused to give me the diagnosis since I did not fail in elementary school despite ticking every other box. Bitch, this is America. If you can chickenscratch your name and count on your fingers they pass you unless they don't like you.

He arrived so we could head to that first chore. Along the way an aside and the phone with Grindr came out. Turns out he was also heading to a session that would involve blowjobs and two other guys, a top and a bottom, the top being one I had spoken to while staying at the motel but never ended up meeting, and wondered if I'd be up for coming by. I said yes despite my rarely looking to explicitly suck dick so he asked them and got the thumbs-up. The bottom I did not get a picture of but there was the remark that he doesn't think the guy has all his teeth. That one feels a bit weird given my tongue ring leading to a ton of damage including two that are bad and two more where you do have to reconsider what it means to have a tooth. After four stops including his place it came time to head down to visit the two.

There was a series of small cabins. The sort of thing most people would hate but it'd totally be my shit. As I walked in the two were waiting. There was the jockstrapped bottom who was in weight loss mode and indeed needed to see a dentist on his knees then the one I had spoken to before sitting back on the couch, porn on the television. Clothes started coming off, me going to my boxers since no jockstrap, and I waited a minute before giving a taste to the new top and the other bottom moved to housewarmer bear. Salt and pepper beard, chest hair that was dense but not very long, definitely as handsome as he was in his profile pic, a little extra weight but in a good way. Then a satisfying dick. Gets very hard, the sort where I can get it all the way down my throat without gagging much. I did my normal approach and got the normal positive reaction. Keep things a little mixed-up. Sometimes going partway down, sometimes all the way, sometimes spend time on the tip, giving extra tongue ring attention. Try the balls, hands can come into play if wanted though he did move my hands away when I did that so safe to assume it wasn't wanted, play with a nipple and enjoy the furry chest. I did switch over and work on housewarmer bear but spent most of the time with the new guy, complete with bringing him to the edge and swallowing him. I sat back for awhile. There was talking about random things to do, mostly what would be expected when you have four naked or close to naked gay men around. It must be noted that the tweaker I sort of want to meet out of morbid curiosity is well-known among the gays which is to be expected. What people say is also what would be expected.

Of course during all of this they saw my dick, way harder than expected, and it got attention. Of course the other bottom wanted to give it a try and did but I was at full mast after having a dick in my mouth and having my dick in another mouth wasn't enough to keep it going. You have to feel bad about that. Jerking off in the morning also hadn't helped though he was good at what he did.

A second round was in play and I was mainly working on the new guy, though the idea that the other bottom needed to get the second load stayed in my head. I was informed that it was fine but didn't buy it, which may have been a good reading of the situation given something said later. He sat up and I put my face up. I stared into his eyes and we kissed. He then put his hand in my boxers, felt my ass, and had me bend over and let him get a good look at my ass. My boxers were down and face almost in the carpet. Plenty of feeling and stroking. He wanted to breed it. He jerked off over it and even put his dick in my crack and did a few thrusts, not going in the hole despite wanting to since he had been informed that I, not knowing about this until getting in the car, was most likely not ready. There was that part of me that was hoping he'd take the risk and accept that he fucked up if there was a problem but you don't say that and he wasn't going to. Thanks to that it ended up again with him rock-hard, me working on him on my knees, and as he got close to shooting a second load housewarmer bear went for one of his nipples. The other bottom went for the other. Three of us working on him and soon enough I swallowed that second load, feeling a bit weird about hogging it but it feels like I was the novelty this time. We sat around for a bit, my dick coming out sometimes, some random touching happening before we had to head out.

As we left I got on Sniffies. The new guy sent a message and he is now pinned. He's looking forward to breeding me sometime and I'm looking forward to taking it. Next was the antique shop then back up to the casino near town and their little food court for the saddest burrito I've had in this state but I wasn't saying that to the guy who was paying. It must be noted that you can smoke in there plus they have tobacco vending machines complete with menthols and flavored Zyns, both of which you can't get in the state normally. But that was the day. I headed back and this morning got more messages from housewarmer bear. Hopefully we can do all of this again sometime.

I keep thinking about how much I'd like to be vers bottom in groups but there is the issue. I wonder if some setup that includes a guy or two in me and me in a third would do the trick. It's not entirely out of the question. It feels like that would make me a vers bottom bottom but position does not require the equivalent of south by southeast. Maybe I'll get more fun in before heading down to visit Berkeley bear and if not there's fun to have there. I wonder what I'll do with the trip?

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The depths are close

Sun, 29 Mar 2026 22:41:46 GMT

As usual I'm not doing anything here for getting laid. When I have a place to stay for too long and nobody to be around things quickly go to static. There are many things to do and some of them get done eventually.

Maybe that means the borderline vagabond sort of thing I had going between home bases was the idea and I just needed to find a way to keep it going indefinitely. Indulge in the restlessness that is as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be. Wander forever. I'm not sure. I do miss it.

In the static I throw out messages for meetups and sometimes they happen though hookups are hard to set up and usually spend nights getting stoned or less often crossfaded and watching videos. No surprise that there's a lot of porn involved, often playing while something that is far from porn is running on a second monitor while a third monitor has something else going on. As a recent example, a lengthy video of making pure cesium. And so last night I was watching some old favorites. Lately I've been spending more time paying attention to some of the dirty talk along the way since that is hot as fuck. So I did that with one of the scenes I've been having fun with lately. Great stuff. College boy has had seven guys fire up inside of him and he's on number eight.

"You're not on PrEP?" "Unh-uh." So I went back. Make sure I heard it right.

[indistinct, I think it ended in "cum"] "Uh-huh." "You're not on PrEP?" "Unh-uh." "No?"

Now that I'm listening, full volume and going back as needed, I'm hearing all the key words. Knocked up, pregnant, pozzed. The bottom begging for it. Give it to me. A lot of indistinct whispers. And I'm stuck between the scene that was quite hot before I listened to the words and what has been said. And the fact that the bottom was so excited about this load more than the others. And then the cumshot, starting outside to show it's happening then going in, and the cameraman's enthusiasm for this top to knock up that ass.

You wonder if it's real or a piece of the fantasy but you're pretty sure you know which it is since it tracks.

I wonder what was said in the parts where the audio got cut. But there are a bunch of takeaways here.

The first one is something I've said before. There's the language in certain cases. Knocked up, pregnant. Those. I've heard those from a ton of guys and know full well that that isn't always bugchasing or gift-giving talk. It's an analogy and goes with terms like breeding, pussy, cunt, all of that. Nothing is supposed to happen to the bottom in this case other than getting filled up. Though you always wonder how often the times you've heard it were the more innocuous version versus how many times somebody had other things in mind.

Then there's proximity. Frequency. Just how close the world I'm in is to these other worlds. And how many people in mine are also in those. And this is where we're getting to the disturbing shit. The parts of my posts that give a special flavor to all of it. But I've hit plenty of gay clubs and parties and more importantly gotten into being a cumdump and especially the latter is right next to so much. All sorts of cruelty and self-annihilation. A knife's edge and the dom doesn't care if you get cut. I keep learning that all these things are closer than we want to think. In this, politics, workplaces, any kind of recreation, our communities, it always comes out that terrible things aren't only at a distance. There's something to be afraid of right next to you. But usually the depths are intentionally obscured while in this case it had just never come up, as far as I know.

But this one is especially haunting. Finding that there are more than expected who are into doing this kind of permanent damage to others. Either have them on meds forever or on the clock. And then those who are seeking this. You wonder especially when you find some young kid going there. What happened? And this was just what was said but what has been unsaid? And why am I torn in the sense that part of me just wants to ignore the issue and try keeping my enjoyment of all of it? Having been told more than once and accepted that I've been on the edge forever does that mean it's only a matter of time before I jump?

I wonder what happened to him. Though if it was real I have the feeling if that didn't do the trick he'll be back to trying again soon and eventually will succeed.

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Eggplant emoji ruined

Tue, 24 Mar 2026 02:05:21 GMT

It has been a few days since I got back to Arcata. I didn't get a response back from the guy I hooked up with before so no new stories there. Not a big deal anyway since there's plenty to talk about from Sacramento.

When I enter Sacramento for one of my sessions there's a routine that works for me. Walk up to the motel, check in, start getting my resources for the next day's session at Target and a specific local convenience stores. Then sit around in the motel room and only try getting in touch with regulars since advertising the session or trying to get randos only seems to work during the event. There were a few changes in the routine this time. This time Mark came by for a little chat also and it's always great to see him but that is one of the things that is always on the table. It was just the chat here and the realization that he was interested in the thing Berkeley bear did which should have been obvious in the first place but didn't come to mind at the moment. Something to feel terrible about there. Then there was doing a deep clean the night before as well as the day of. It's effective even if cumbersome.

When I went to say hello to Mark for some reason my brain just stopped working. I couldn't come up with "Mark" or any other words. I'm not sure if it's weed detox or something like a tumor or aneurysm but the facts that the low-grade headache that went with all of it went away after smoking here and it hasn't happened since makes the worse possibilities seem less likely. It must be noted that while doing other things I didn't miss smoking. Seven days a week while in Humboldt doing little, trips where there are things happening can immediately bring that down to zero.

The lamp flickers when there's any sort of vibration at all. The bathroom light flickers constantly with the annoying clicks you get from broken lights. The door does more than just stick. But at least the cockroaches weren't having a convention this time.

The day of there is also a routine. More resources, which always includes the water bottle, caffeine, and some sort of boner enhancer if not bought previously, get the chicken sandwich for after the session, and do fuck all until it's time to do the full clean and get ready. It still takes time to do a full clean when you've already done a preliminary partial one the day before which is why I still need to invent something to make the process quicker and more foolproof. They say that necessity is the mother of invention but it isn't. Necessity isn't closely related to invention and spends most of its time in the cuck chair.

Before the session there were all the normal worries plus the pup said he'd be dropping by at 5 or 6 to drop a few loads into me. That later turned to 6 or 7 which I responded to with saying I'd be starting at 7. No way in hell was I going to let that get pushed further and further up then probably canceled. He said we'd meet the next day instead. Sure. One of the normal worries is smell. My sense of smell doesn't work like everyone else's. I'll notice some smells nobody else does which means there's always a whiff of something awful after cleanup, but then again there are random whiffs of strange things nobody else notices all the time in public. But it got to about 6:30 and it all began after putting a Bang energy drink into myself, having had the 5-Hour Energy Extra Strength in the morning. You may notice that the latter has 230 mg caffeine and the former has 300 mg caffeine.

I decided to try something different for advertising. Different wording. This time it was short with "ass up" to start it. I've tried many things. Looking for tops, taking loads, no loads refused, and as a spoiler it doesn't feel like the wording matters. So now I know that trying to find guys days before doesn't matter, apps other than Sniffies don't matter, and now wording of the ads doesn't matter. So just Sniffies, day of, say it however and send out tons of unsolicited messages. That includes Grindr not mattering for this. The only thing I got off of Grindr was a dude advertising a BBC for oral who sent a message asking if I was gen for monster dick. Every other message there was just as fruitful but less memorable.

You always find certain types on Sniffies. I am aware that I am one of the types and there were a few of me around. Then there were the ones which appear to be more common nowadays, with two of them being on that night, that ask you to subscribe to their Onlyfans if you want to fuck. That is some cheap fucking prostitution there. Like I get cheap. In a world where there are way more attractive dudes than me willing to give it out for free, all those under-30 no loads refused cumdumps that would swear they're on TRT but 750 of Test plus tren per week doesn't count as TRT, the price will be driven down. Maybe the money comes if you take your time. But I say that as the person who has that sanitized prostitution fantasy which, at the end, still usually ends with me putting a fifty in my wallet. Maybe a hundred for a lengthier session or a few hundred if there was a whole party. A cheap whore even in fantasy. Then you get the dudes who enhanced their pics, definitely, and I'm not even talking about the ones where you know it's AI. I mean when you see an eleven-inch minimum dick, real inches not Grindr inches, guess the color. Special shoutout to the white trans girl who probably also did not have the massive schlong in the picture, but that was back around nine. Then the one with "kindly pass" conditions. Kindly pass if: not white, not gen, under 28...wait a minute. So the beggar and the worst kind of chooser, together at last? The only thing that would be worse than dealing with these people would be being straight and having to deal with the increasingly high-key gender war.

It was one of those nights that started to feel hopeless before anything went well. When you're shooting your shot over and over again and nothing comes from it, then you get one of those dudes that gives a dick pic and within three messages he's on his way. The perfect sort for a night like this. Probably his late forties or early fifties but not gray, some extra weight, an aesthetic layer of fur. I was on my knees almost instantly to get him ready and gave the normal "you can tell me when you want my other hole" talk. I kept myself open with the dilator and he didn't want me to waste much time. I ended up on all fours which worked well enough though some up or down adjustment was needed, as always. Then he wanted me to get further up on the bed, just shy of on my stomach, so he could do the job from there. It always feels terrible when I have to make a top stop for a moment since my leg is at an angle where cramping begins. That happens often and happened this time, but he was fine with it, it took five seconds to adjust, and we got back to action. It couldn't have been much over five minutes since he walked in when he told me he was going to cum and as always I went to begging for him to bury it. He pumped deep into me, then there was the classic making sure it was in me, putting in the plug, then cleaning him off. A little was still coming out so I knew he'd loaded me up well. He left after which I noticed that despite the effort a glob had fallen out.

It took me until about that night to realize how extremely AuDHD, that is autistic and ADHD, this whole cumdump thing can be. There's that amount of structure I need and that amount of freedom I need. A line that's elusive but these sessions land right on it when things go well. It also recently struck me that it's probably best to more accurately refer to myself as AuDHD since neither the autistic nor ADHD crews seem to like one another or people in both, but then again autistics have a kind of self-hatred and infighting that's only rivaled by hardcore leftists no matter how much they pretend otherwise.

I got a second dick pic only minutes later and thought I recognized it. Was this the Asian guy I hadn't heard from since full disclosure? Guess he's okay with it. Come on by. Of course. No problem. It turned out it was not him. Similar body, dick bigger than in the picture, I am on my knees immediately. Thick, got hard quickly, grabbed my head to keep me from doing the work. He wanted to do the work. Pound my face while I make sure no teeth touch. Don't gag. Resist it. Fail at times and have to pull my head back, stop the gag reflex from doing its thing, and let him take charge again. Again, I ended up on all fours, ass hanging off the end of the bed, and as always some adjustments were needed along the way. Go lower, as usual. From here it was a normal, satisfying pump-and-dump. Quick fuck with a nice dick, long orgasm feeling some of the pumps as I add pressure at the end mainly since it makes the pumps more noticeable, and it started coming out at the end. Plug goes in, he doesn't want to get cleaned off, he leaves.

There was a lull in the action but I kept looking. There was one of them that had gotten the full disclosure long ago. The one with hyperspermia. The one I had been blindfolded for every time so, though he has pictures of his body up, his face isn't in the pictures meaning I have never seen his face. But there was something different in his profile this time. He's a porn model? That would make a minimum of two dudes that do porn I've been loaded up by and this second one? No idea who he is. But he seemed enthusiastic about meeting me again and we set a time.

I almost missed him thanks to Sniffies. For some reason that app picks the worst time to eat messages for a few minutes and this time it was right when he was arriving. It did work eventually and so he opened the door as I laid on the bed on my stomach, blindfold on and dilator in my ass. He had me sit on the edge of the bed and bury my face in his chest, sucking a nipple. I played with his left, specifically the barbell going through it, while sucking his right, sometimes bringing one hand down to his dick and balls. He called me boy in a sir/boy sort which was responded to with probably too much "yes sir" and "thank you sir" but when you melt that happens. When it was time for him to fuck me he did something that always feels good: he wanted me on my back, meaning he wanted to see me while it happened. He went in at less than full mast but felt great. When he mentioned the cum in me I asked if it felt like two or more, mainly since I was certain it felt like more. Turns out it definitely felt like more than two. Hell yes. He took his poppers and eventually I felt the warmth as the bit that got into the air started to affect me, but strangely my lungs didn't decide they hated me afterward. He spit on me suddenly which got an immediate, enthusiastic, surprising "thank you sir". The dirty talk was amazing and he had me flip over. His beard rubbed against my cheeks as he ate my flooded hole, taking the poppers again, and jerked off. He took his time on my ass before shoving his dick back in, this time fully hard, and pounded away. He gave me that warning that he was going to cum, I begged for it deep as if that was ever necessary, and started to feel pump after pump deep in me. It stopped and I was in ecstasy, mentioning how many pumps there had been. Something like ten seconds later he said, "One more..." after which there was one final huge one out of absolutely nowhere. I laughed, plugged myself up, and cleaned him off. We talked briefly. It turns out he did videos for Bear Films and Pantheon. About ten of them. We had a little conversation including some about the Horsemarket-likes since he's bringing his boy to Mount. He seems genuinely nice. I'm nowhere near his league but somehow we've still hooked up several times. And still I don't know what his face looks like.

That was it for the night. Average numbers but a lot up there. The chicken sandwich was nuclear enough where after eating I took a picture of myself with eyes watering and wide open, dripping sweat, mouth agape, and sent it around.

You may remember my having a Bang energy drink before the session plus the 5-Hour Energy Extra Strength earlier in the day. That is 530 mg of caffeine. Coincidentally I was lying in bed without falling asleep until 5:30. The idea was to meet with the pup then hang out with him, then hang with Mark and him, so my alarm was set for 8:30. I tried having more caffeine in the morning but you know how that goes. You can't hide the excess stupid that comes from a bad night of sleep.

The pup arrived a little after 11 and was up to fuck immediately. He had told me that he was up for a few rounds the night before. We hadn't seen each other for awhile so we did kiss, get close, enjoy each other, and chat. I sucked his dick as he laid back, going down to the base, and there was a slight something to it but not what he was worried about. He wanted me to put the pup hood on and I obliged. No harness, though. The harness didn't come out for the entire trip. He had me ride him and there was some of the pup stuff that still doesn't click with me but I tolerate it. Rubbing the ears of the hood, asking who's a good boy. Good boy works in the sir or daddy sense but not in the pup sense. Not the voice you use with your dog. I had to ask him: what am I supposed to do with that? Am I supposed to use my words to answer or am I supposed to bark? He had me hold his wrists above his head while riding him which gives ideas for future hookups, most likely only using the bandana since it may require working up to the handcuffs. Then it went to him in charge, me on my back. That meant first he had to pull out and I had to flip over, revealing a glob of what had been left in me the night before. He asked if I was sure about the status of the guys who had come before and that was not a good sign. I never check the status of the dudes I hook up with and more importantly did he forget that he was the first person I gave full disclosure to? I hope not. But we continued with me on my back so my feet, or paws as he said, could be in his face and he could lick the soles, suck toes, and pound, after getting the wet wipes out to make sure no residue from the floor was on my feet. He's got way more of a thing for that than I do but it makes him happy and isn't crossing any lines. He got into it. Having me put my feet together in front of his face, pounding harder with a thick dick, and soon he reached the edge and finished inside. Fourth load since the three from the night before were still up there.

He was not up for a second round but he has said he would be up for several rounds several times and never been up for another round after the first. That's fine. We headed over to the chicken place, so he has finally been introduced to that, and had a small lunch before heading into Old Sacramento. He seems to be a fan of it but gave the whole "you know I am actually enjoying myself" thing. He probably was but it always feels weird to get that. Usually that means the exact opposite but then again most things people say have no connection to reality. The talk was a good one. It turns out he got his diagnosis and was a bit surprised that I hadn't figured it out beforehand given that we got along plus he's a furry and all of them are neurodivergent. It went from there to fucking up the bus schedule and apologizing, after which the consequences of a lack of sleep became apparent, then Old Sacramento and a restaurant there while waiting for Mark to come by.

It turned out he wasn't really up for the idea of meeting up with Mark. Absolutely misjudged that one so he went the opposite way to leave Old Sacramento while I headed up to meet Mark. We ended up hitting a place that wasn't as fun as expected but he had his awesome burger while I started to wonder why dirty soda ever left the containment zone that is known as Utah. Mark gives me that same feeling that Berkeley bear does in that hookups don't matter that much anymore. That's not the part that's most important. It's not quite domesticity like with Berkeley bear since that only comes into play when you've had extended stays with someone that start to feel like being together but it's as close as you can get without. If we did have extended stays certainly the feeling would turn into that. It's one of those things where we can talk about random shit and there's just a good feeling, even when you can't remember all the specifics later. I even stayed with him while he got his car washed just so we could talk about random shit a little longer. But apologies, Mark, for being dumber than usual. Three hours of sleep, you know?

A lot of sperm came out of me later. I do enjoy knowing that was all in me. There is that strange romanticism in thinking that there's some remnant of each guy that has ever bred me in there, even if it probably isn't biologically accurate.

So in a sense the session I had was normal. Not a good session, not a bad session by Sacramento standards. It was fine. Someone wanting to poz me being in play during two disappointing sessions after a sequence of amazing ones did get to me but being able to spend time with Mark and finding out the the pup did not actually ditch me, as is usually the case, has helped me get back into all of it, despite the issues.

The morning after, before I left, I finally jerked off, having not jerked off since Berkeley, and got a few pictures since I managed to shoot almost to my neck. Got some okay pictures but there were none where both the angle and shadows were right. Mark wanted to hang with me one more time also. It took him until slightly after checkout time to get there so he intercepted me near the convenience store. He brought me to a restaurant he had wanted to take me to for a long time and it is amazing stuff. We had another one of those times together that come just shy of the domestic.

So after some talk in the station it was time to go. Hawks to watch from the train on the way to Martinez, up to Ukiah where the ravens are clicky, a new game for travel since I am not getting Completionist++ in Balatro so Logan is you, Keke near joke is defeat, flag is win, and here in Arcata the swallows are back and the dragonflies are coming out. This circle begins again while our current jagged line makes its sharp, chaotic turns, but in truth all these circles are lines and all these lines are circles.

And Mark, sorry for ruining the eggplant emoji.

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To you for some you

Tue, 17 Mar 2026 06:17:04 GMT

I'm in Berkeley, having spent a few days with Berkeley bear. If not for being able to stay with him while in the Bay Area I wouldn't be able to do this much at all. We haven't fucked. We don't that much. It goes that way when I get to knowing somebody, being comfortable around them, all of that. The domesticity of it all is better than a few days of railings. Little touches, being close, the look and the feel and the smell of being there. The food, a show, hanging around some of the other gays that I am definitely not a part of, being near one another working on our own things, and tomorrow morning I head to Sacramento. Amtrak again due to not knowing other realistic methods of transit other than Flixbus or Greyhound and the former didn't get me even close to my destination and did not give any sort of refund for their negligence last time after trying to get in touch with support many times and the latter is a level of awful that goes past normal awful into funny awful and then past that into the kind of awful that shapes how you see others forever. It's tempting to try finding a path using public transit since it was fun going Arcata to Eureka to Ukiah to Santa Rosa to San Francisco to Berkeley that way. Tomorrow I get my room in Sacramento, get ready for Wednesday's session, and at some point hang out with Mark and the pup though the specifics are still in the air.

I have not been doing the training I should have been doing in order to take a bunch of dick but then again the chances of me getting double digits is about zero anyway. We'll see what happens when I'm there.

This is going to become one of those depressing posts shortly. Nothing about fucking, everything about the state of the world and family issues.

For anyone worried, I continue to live out of pure spite. Not letting the motherfuckers win. I've been doing that for decades. So don't worry.

I hope that Sacramento session goes well since every day it seems more and more likely that the trips are over soon and there's holing up at least until things get even worse and even that isn't an option. There are all those senses of finality. The slut life, the thing I do down here, seeing those I care about, things half-finished, and the last genetic relative I haven't said goodbye to, though our calls are shorter and further apart between as time goes on.

We talked for about two minutes after something like three weeks. The next call will be in May. It has gotten worse since I've been trying to warn them about the state of things for ten years and it has ten years of provable lies regarding believing me, getting plans together, and yet even after admission of some old ones there's doubling down over and over and over again on the same things recycled. This from the person who says "I'll always protect you".

As an aside it would be nice to find any allies at all for all of this.

But this is normal. The one has been trying to get me to quit the one hobby I don't talk about here for twenty-four years now. Most of my life. Lies, yelling, broken promises, keeping my property away from me, do the same things over and over and deny it. Turn on the sappy bullshit and the "the person I am talking to is retarded" voice while saying the dumbest shit possible then deny what's happening right in the middle of it. Then similar things through the years regarding mental health, living arrangements, education, and employment. Basically one thread weaves into another, continuously, going back over thirty years.

"I'm sorry you feel that way." Right. You're sorry that I feel this way but not for what you've done.

You look at all the things that make somebody up. All the thoughts, the needs, all the pieces. And sometimes it takes awhile to notice that among all the pieces there appears to be one missing. The ability to truly love another. And I've realized with that that the thing that has kept what I'm supposed to call my family metastable since stable is not a fitting word isn't love. It's mutually assured destruction.

I did a thing I always do while in the Bay Area today while Berkeley bear did something he had to do. It's the last place I go in San Francisco. I can order stuff online from Mr. S and it's not worth going into that part of the city to look. It's funny how you treat even trivial things when it may be the last time. There were those things you wanted to do, then stopped caring about, seemingly finding peace, then a near miss brings it back and with it a sense of incompleteness that follows you. An ache. A sort of sorrow. For all the things that never were and all the things that never could have been.

On the way back, on the train in San Francisco, I noticed that all four of the pairs of seats facing the direction you want to face had one person taking up both seats. Those people can all go fuck themselves. Some narcissistic, antisocial main character bullshit. I don't care about being the main character. I just want to be more than an extra. But you see the disregard in how they treated the seats on a train where people were standing up.

In an article I read earlier, according to a worldwide, cross-cultural survey, 62% of those surveyed more or less said that the future generations can go fuck themselves and deal with their own problems over making a better world for them. The philosophy of extinction. Also the philosophy of private equity, stripping the copper wire from the walls now and leaving a destroyed shell for the future. People complain when businesses do that sort of thing but how many would do the same if they had the chance? The same ideas, the same cycles, the same cruelty appearing over and over again in different forms.

The train was almost silent. Two friends spoke briefly, I think there were two or three words between two others, and with that full train that was it. The guy with the harness boots next to me got a "points for the harness boots" out of me but he had headphones on as he watched a video on his phone. Yes, it's strange to try saying things to random people nowadays but I can't stop. I did that while doing the thing I always do in the Bay Area too. We need to connect somehow but with our intersectional divisions not being enough we keep taking a hammer to the shards. I wonder if the future, if there is one, is perfect atomization short of the transactional.

I have seen a pair of pigeons on a specific security gate nearby several times. I would like to think they truly love one another. I wonder if they think of the rest of the flock too. If what is there or what is missing also exists in other parts of nature and, coming back, for what it tells us about one another. For all those I could never love and all those I could never love again.

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Housewarming or defiling the bed

Mon, 09 Mar 2026 22:37:26 GMT

It's always hard to know if you're in fuckable mode when you're in my world. As if that part of my current state is something other than inevitable for a cumdump, even a statistically unsuccessful one. If there's an itch of any kind you wonder if it means your ass is off-limits or if it's the allergens all over the house getting where they shouldn't. You also wonder if the toys not doing too well is since you're not in fuckable mode or since you've been putting off the whole "training" thing and haven't stuck anything up your ass in far too long.

I tried the shower shot today in the name of getting ready for the guy from Eureka that I've hung out with and who needs to be christened something. To be decided. Set it up in the bathroom, replaced it after I was done since it feels like a bit much to make the roommates put up with. Worked well enough, I think. It's hard to tell. It is tempting to ask the roommate I share the shower with if it's possible to install one of the junctions so I can keep the showerhead connected at all times and just connect the shower shot as needed, but without giving the details. I'm allowed to host, they all know I'm the gay one, and the dude came over and went into my room after I told the one roommate that the shower would be unusable for awhile so even without knowing all the details they all know what's going on mostly and the one could probably figure out what the junction is for. All on if he knows about shower shots.

He came by and we got to the talk. Passing stories back and forth, being close, no clothes coming off yet I did lay out the possibilities and get down to the jock quickly. One that hasn't been put to use in awhile since there are three groups for my jockstraps: "for intimate sessions", "for taking loads", and "for sleeping or room clothing". This felt like one of those times where I'd have to give some warning. Full disclosure, as opposed to those times where there is absolutely no sign of a problem and I'm with guys who are already taking the kind of risks where they probably picked something up long ago. I'm not sure if that take is sensible risk analysis or mildly sociopathic. The toy box was out and he asked if he could look through. There was demonstration of the new spreader bar, having to tell him that the 14 x 8 dildo has never even been anywhere near my ass while not wearing pants, showing off the handcuffs and leg irons, the latter of which has way too much give for my liking, demonstrating the hollow plug which he did find hot, modeling the pup hood, and him noticing the cock pump and remarking that he's never tried it. It would be fun to get him into it sometime. Some showing him some of the porn I'm into, mainly since he had to know what that hollow plug was about and he definitely enjoyed seeing the bottom get used condoms emptied into him. He also noticed the slickness on a few things including the doorknob since silicone lube goes everywhere as we all know full well.

I asked him if there was some sort of smell going on in my room. If I was noseblind since I always notice some things nobody else does in random places but there's still noseblindness. The main idea was to see if the place smelled like something horrible I've done to the room or weed because any house with multiple stoners has a good chance of going there. Turns out the whole place smells like my roommate's pets despite this room being off-limits to them.

He was up to fuck. Time close, time touching. Eventually I worked my way down to his dick. Last time he was definitely thick but wasn't getting hard due to jerking off too recently. He did this time. Grows, has a good feel to it, fun to work on, he had me take my time down there before it was time to switch holes. Plus huge balls. He wanted me to ride him first but he does have a bit of a stomach so it ended up as one of those diagonal rides which are hard to position yourself correctly for, but he was enjoying himself. A fan of the ass and he was good at what he did. I did try to keep the diagonal ride going as well as possible but extended diagonal rides are not in my wheelhouse. It doesn't go that well and soon it ended up with me on all fours yet again, him pounding me from behind on the bed, and finally on all fours on the edge of the bed with him standing up. He fucked me like that until he sat on the bed himself and I bounced on his dick with my feet on the floor. I felt pumping. Lots of it. So I made that offhand remark about him coming. No, he said. He said he had back in an earlier position which is still a little confusing since those were definite powerful pumps, one after another. But when I got off of him I noticed things had definitely happened earlier. The froth left on his balls was something to stare at. They were covered. I wasn't going to offer to clean that up since it was one of those times your brain is too busy trying to understand how any of this happened. This was not in the full service cumdump manual. Plug went in, of course.

I do wonder when he cleaned up since I never saw it.

We did keep talking later. He said he's wanted to have his dick in me since he first saw me. I responded I've wanted his load just as long. In retrospect getting that response from a cumdump doesn't mean much but he's into sluts so he probably isn't thinking of it that way plus we do seem to genuinely get along. He likes the idea of not being the first to use me, specifically using the term "sloppy seconds". I haven't heard the term "sloppy seconds" in a long time. It doesn't seem to be a term gay dudes use too often which makes sense. Probably since most of the guys that like "sloppy" aren't looking for just one before them. He has also been talking to some others about me and there seems to be interest, but we'll find out what that means later.

After that I had to give an example of the stuff I'd like to do sometime. I attached the handcuffs to one of my wrists, put them around a bar of the bedframe, put my other wrist in, and pushed slightly to make for a better demonstration.

Click.

Fucking damn it.

Since I have heard this one once before, yes, it was accidental. No quotation marks needed around that. The key was right there but, while it is easy to get handcuffs in front of you off while locked up if you have the key, the angle would have made it at least much harder. It took strategic moves in order for him to get the key in and unlock me.

That means when it came time to better demonstrate the sort of shit I'd love sometime in more detail there was no using the handcuffs. Just lie back, put on the blindfold and the ball gag, the latter so I'm entirely defenseless, put my wrists against the bedframe as if there were handcuffs, and whimper defenselessly. He couldn't help but to touch a little bit. There was no use of the leg irons or spreader bar here but it does feel that in order to be an entirely defenseless toy for men the spreader bar would be the play. The legs are spread and the bar makes the legs much easier to manipulate whether the boy wants it or not. Then again the handcuffs, blindfold, and gag combination feels right in the sense that adding the spreader bar feels like something that also requires adding earplugs.

There was no second round before he left but that's fine. This feels like a good start.

Later this week I'm off to Berkeley for a few days then Sacramento for a few more. There's Berkeley bear, some of the Bay Area food, the one thing I don't talk about here in the Bay Area, then Mark, the pup who turns out wasn't trying to ditch me, the Sacramento food, and putting my ass up in a motel room, probably putting "ass up" in the ad instead of my normal approach. It's an era for bad ideas, exponentially more so by the day, so giving out the location freely and being blindfolded more indiscriminately is the plan, but then again that has been the plan several times. We'll see what happens in a bit over a week.

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Stories to be written

Sat, 28 Feb 2026 00:02:08 GMT

So I did finally get in touch with RubMyButch and it must be said it's going pretty well. Fun to talk to, will not be bothered by the strangeness. Way more hardcore than I am though surprisingly there are things I'm way more comfortable with than he is. Passing various pictures and videos back and forth will be interesting also and no, you probably don't know what I mean by that.

I've been trying to do things in town also. Going out to try to interact with people when possible as always, talking with the one I met up with and he is up to meet again to fuck plus he has thought of sharing me with someone, and then there are the others I want to meet up with and get loaded up by, something that has not happened in Humboldt since Motel 6. Before I moved in. But I did finally get my mattress so I will start hosting some guys but not randos even though anonymous strangers make for the best hookups. Now I need to make up for the fact that there were no full comforters at Target so now I'm at a mattress on the bedframe with the sheets and a sleeping bag, which is a step up from cardboard on the bedframe with a sleeping bag.

I had been sleeping like that for awhile. I'm weirdly okay with certain types of discomfort since I absolutely picture myself sleeping under a bridge soon. That has been the assumption for a long time. That or simply being dead.

I ended up talking with Berkeley bear about my worries liking biohazard guy and a few scorpion guys and his take got me. Basically that he can't worry too much about me playing on the edge because I've been like that since long before we met.

He's not wrong.

That death drive comes through hard, doesn't it? In the Lacanian sense, not the Freudian sense. I can joke about my lack of a sense of self-preservation and penchant for bad ideas then say something like "I don't touch meth so it's not that bad" as if that's the only data point that matters. As if there aren't countless other things I would go hard on if given the chance.

But regarding chances I hope to have stories about guys soon enough. Mainly thinking about the ones from here but the trips to either Bellingham or Redding are possibilities plus heading back down to familiar territory.

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Hallways longer and shorter

Mon, 23 Feb 2026 04:51:21 GMT

There are signs of getting some action but it is hard to pull the trigger. There is distance in play which makes preparation harder, as I can't host yet plus don't want a guy here the first time, I haven't been training or remembering my fiber lately, then there's all the normal questions, just more so. I feel like a dick despite not actually flaking on anyone.

There are several that are much further away. Since I'm not driving the one in a town 30 miles away would be harder to reach, requiring a bus in the morning and hitting the return much late, but he sounds either fun or like somebody I will not return from visiting. He says the right things. Definitely into BDSM. Told me that he would tell me my role as soon as I'm on my rightful place in the world, on my knees in my uniform of a harness and jock. Talked about having read the master and slave guide. That does bother me. Daddy/son is one of those dynamics I could never get into; too on-the-nose for somebody who is waiting for his actual one to die already. Sir/boy feels like what I need. Master/slave would cross a line and I wonder if I'd find myself chained to a pipe in the basement until I'm no longer fun and need to get put in the burn pit in the woods. There are several others who seem like good bets for a simple fuck but there's something about bad ideas on top of my wanting to take just shy of all of it.

We will get back to bad ideas shortly.

I did go into town to meet this older guy I've been talking to. Hooking up was out of the question but we were able to hang at a few places in Eureka and around, talk gay slut shit, and get an idea of what we're about. He did drive me back and I had him come up to see exactly why I can't host just yet. Long story short my bed situation is a step above homeless chic at the moment since I have been dragging my feet on buying a mattress. Yes, I have been here for six months and have still not gotten a mattress. I did attempt to give him a blowjob but he'd been jerking off too often recently. My hope is that we do see each other again and it does sound promising.

Near the coast I did see some birds I hadn't seen before- marbled godwits according to an identification app- and in Old Town there was a massive puddle in a parking lot where the gulls were hanging out. One was floating and another was getting up and down, dipping himself repeatedly, which I have never seen before. But of course when cameras come out birds stop doing what they're doing.

It's strange having this feeling of potential combined with the constant feelings of things fading away. I distanced myself from some of the Humboldt queer community since there's that sense of "everything is problematic" and to people with that attitude I am always deeply problematic so may as well step away before I'm the problem. Then that gut punch when you get told by somebody you trust that your rejections in the gay community mainly didn't actually happen and it's just those old rejections clouding judgment. Then one I am tethered to by blood and money. Gave ten days without contact for that one to think about the state of things with all I've said and what is happening now, all the worries and how it's getting worse, made the call, hung up after 3¼ minutes almost in tears. Maybe two weeks before the next call. It's nice to know that people who are supposed to be your blood still don't believe a word you say and will provably lie directly to you about it repeatedly, using the same methods of lying sometimes to the word that they've done thousands of times before with no hyperbole in that number, no matter how often you're the one who knows what's going on. It's that reminder that there are no allies in one of those places where it feels like there should be. There never has been and there never will be and now is a time when people need allies.

Regarding problematic I have gone back and thought of the power dynamics that get into my sex life. Then about things like Interrogaytion. The whole idea of not being able to say no in a controlled environment. That's getting me thinking that maybe CNC is a kink of mine and that is one you don't admit to since people find that highly offensive. While not being offended by the ABDL crew, of course.

Tons of bad ideas lately. Getting stoned too often still, occasionally having too much to drink, remembered the guy from Long Beach and how his kiss burned so I bought a pack of Zyns to see if they were the thing that created the burning. Zyns do in fact burn within a few minutes of putting them in your upper lip then the burning liquid drips into the rest of your mouth. It is astonishing that people choose to make things like this a habit. And these were the weaker pouches. Burning from a Mexican or Thai or Ethiopian restaurant? Good burning. This? Not good burning. Zero stars will not buy again.

I still watch plenty of TravelBreeder and wish there were a Great Value version that would have video titles like "Logan Arrow turned out in [place]". During some of my recent watching I've found a guy who's a new favorite. One that was in exactly one session.

I have a folder of screenshots. Single frames I love. Guys I like in positions I like. Before now there was one guy in the folder, specifically Jason Collins AKA MasculineJason, where you can get a good view of his tats, usually while fucking, then some breeding pics as well. Huge load from a huge dick? The huge load part is always welcome but size has upsides and downsides. Huge deposits it deep but you can't feel any of the seed proper. Not as far in it won't stay in as long but you can feel the ropes, filling, and warmth. Barely in and you'll even see some but it won't stay there long. Still a yes overall.

Now there's a new one in the folder from a recent breeding compilation, one that comes from older videos. Hairy torso, bearish overall, strong arms, nice dick, tats including on his forearms and near the waist, gave three loads in a row. I went back to the original and watch the 9½ minutes over parts of two consecutive videos over and over now. I kept getting screenshots since the tattoo right over his dick looks so goddamn hot when he fucks. TravelBreeder says his tattoo is kinda hot too, so we're in agreement, and a comment with several upvotes including mine mentioned that he loves the guy.

It's a biohazard symbol.

I know what that means.

TravelBreeder also noted a scorpion tattoo another top had in a different video in the description with an "ikyky" so I'm wondering if one, the guy from Sacramento has gotten to me more than I thought or maybe there was always something latent, and two, if there is a pathway from where I was to pozzing through my current favorite porn. Lately I've been thinking that I'd consider doing something like the Sacramento guy wanted me to, just fewer days without PrEP before and after the act, but I'd probably bail and head straight to the pill bottle quickly. The idea of a taste of poison works that way.

I took so many screenshots of biohazard guy that at times, if you rhythmically tap the right arrow key in the image viewer in that folder, you get a flipbook.

I should try using the shower shot, since it is definitely possible to do that here, and get my ass into a better place for fucking, both via diet and toys. Then there's getting in touch with RubMyButch when I decide which method of contact is most appropriate.

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Quick notes before the silence

Mon, 09 Feb 2026 07:24:51 GMT

It'll be back to the normal amount of posting for Humboldt, most likely, so I'll give a few last notes for now.

I spent the weekend with Berkeley bear after his event. I'm happy for him. He ended up hitting Steamworks on Saturday but my going there would have required getting ready more quickly than I was feeling comfortable with. It's probably for the best since when the realization that I'd have been getting back into Bay Area gay for anything at all left me feeling sick. I did something else, something I'd like to talk about, but it's way too niche to be anything other than too revealing. Maybe to individuals privately. No time to hit Mr. S but there's always the possibility of ordering an eyeless hood and spreader bar on their site. Bringing a spreader bar on Amtrak would have been awkward at best anyway.

Maybe I'll be able to talk about getting used to the shower shot, trying some toys, and getting a hookup up there if the guy involved is the sort I'll hook up with. Otherwise see you next trip or when I remember something and edit this.

I do have to send a message to RubMyButch soon.

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Intuition meets abstraction

Thu, 05 Feb 2026 09:05:55 GMT

The days of my attempts to be a slut have a specific progression to them. Some kind of grocery store or gas station to get some kind of sandwich to get things moving, a drink, something high in caffeine, and possibly something for after the session though the days before are always light on the food. Falafel is often the food of the day before. Then doing nothing while spending several hours trying to get myself cleaned out. The whole time there's that wondering if there's any point to all of it. If it will go badly since there are several ways it can go badly.

I did talk with several guys who said they wanted to drop by the day before. I was especially excited for one of them except there's always the fact that usually it's talk and these dudes have no intention of actually showing up. This was the case for all of them even one I had a fun, lengthy conversation with.

There were plenty of people advertising their wares for sale on the chat. It's always tempting to hit one up but there are several ways in which that is a bad idea. The case of there being no bullshit and getting good substances of certain sorts is the good result but feels unrealistic. I note that there were several advertising DMT which is especially strange since that doesn't go well with sex. Sex requires you to not be conversing with the machine elves in a fractal world after ego death. No, I have not done DMT since having sources for substances usually requires knowing people.

I ended up getting one to come by out of many. He was looking for quick ass and I was there so he came by. He said a few minutes and didn't take any longer than he'd said. Black, cute, some nice tattoos, very friendly. Great smile. After he took a moment he stood in front of me and started working on getting his pants down while I kneeled hungrily in my black jockstrap and bandana, a bandana that came off soon after. Thick, good feel to it, one of them that grows and hardens quickly enough where you notice every last bit of the change in real time, and as usual I told him after a little sucking that he's in charge of when the hole that is being put to use changes. He wanted me to stay where I was. That he wanted to enjoy the mouth since it was great. And a few times, as I went down to the base, he put his hands behind my head and pounded. Made me choke. Didn't give much mercy, but in a good way, though during those moments there was always the worry that my teeth would be hitting his dick. It probably did a few times, especially when his dick started going in at an angle other than entirely straight. Even when not adding a little torque to all of it, which is one of the things dudes like about my giving blowjobs, it's a bit rough to keep teeth from touching when pounding comes into play.

After a few rounds of this he pulled his dick out and had me get on all fours on the bed. He started to pound and he pounded hard. I asked if he was going to breed me deep and he said he would. As he pounded he smacked my ass, also hard. Soon he asked me to shift back since he wasn't getting a great angle, and looking at the fact that later the mattress was several inches off of where it was meant to be only some of that was me. The rest was since beds where there's going to be fucking going on should probably have some way to lock the mattress in place. As I moaned he went from pounding to pounding even harder, getting closer to me, and I started to get more excited. Soon he buried himself in me and started getting louder which is the only accurate way to say it since at first it was just louder and I didn't feel his dick doing anything different. It took longer before I started to feel the pulsing. Starting with a little from the underside of his dick, then stronger and stronger until a lengthy finish where every inch pulsed powerfully. He was deep in there so it's safe to assume it was a huge load and it will be there for awhile. I plugged myself up soon after.

He pulled out and as I turned around I noticed seed dripping from his dick. The fact that it was still coming out of him is why I said "huge" and not "big" in the last paragraph. I asked if he was up to get cleaned off. He was so I did, going all the way to the base, up and down a few times, him happy with the work I was doing and telling me that my mouth is amazing. After I pulled my head back I noticed some running down his balls. "Let me get that." I lifted his dick and went for the balls then noticed a bit under his dick at the base. I got it all in the name of thoroughness. He laughed.

We talked a bit afterward. About where we came from, about what SoCal gay is since I honestly do not understand why that other motel is the cumdump motel instead of this one, and it turns out he's not even from Long Beach. The one I pulled wasn't even a local and has some fun thoughts on SoCal gay, but then again he was also from the east coast. It was a friendly chat after which he left.

That much was fun. Dick plus more conversation than I get most days since typing in a fucking online chat doesn't count for shit. But as much as that guy was cool and I will enjoy the idea of his seed being up in me for days the session was still a total bust and doesn't help. As I have said many times there's a lot about feeling wanted by someone for some vaguely good reason and this was another session that didn't do the trick. I walked around trying to find food after all the restaurants were closed but wasn't in the mood for what was open. And I looked at everything closed and thought...there were so many cool things I could have done instead. So much missed.

Then the worst thought.

Was there?

Was there truly a better way to spend the day?

When these sessions fail how often was there a better thing that could have been done?

There's that existential boredom. Where all the things don't mean a goddamn thing without other people so is there really anything in downtown Long Beach by that standard? Not just Long Beach. Is it wasteland to wasteland? The frosted glass of Berkeley bear's social group is something that contains less of a sense of distance than all of this.

A derealization pump.

But I've gone into all of this before. The world that is mine and the world that is not. The cast, the extras, and those who see it all on the screen.

I don't think there's a reason to go south of about the Bay Area short of maybe hitting Palm Springs and CCBC sometime during the summer. Without Berkeley bear the only really good reason to go to the Bay Area would be to reach Martinez to get to Sacramento and without Mark and possibly some of the others who haven't been accessible lately there wouldn't be much of a reason to as much as enter Mendocino County at all.

Maybe I need to take a trip up. Find a way to Eugene using public transit then take Amtrak to Bellingham. I sent a message to a guy up there I hooked up with a few times in my previous trips and he seemed happy to hear from me.

And then there's the guy in Eureka I haven't been able to meet yet.

Back to beating my head against the wall.

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Never seeing the ocean

Thu, 05 Feb 2026 01:04:20 GMT

I'm getting ready for a session in Long Beach right now. I'm hoping to be ready by 6 or 7 and if not things may not happen. Like always there's uncertainty to the end.

Humboldt has been Humboldt. A lot of getting stoned, a lot of losing faith, got to meet up with a friend who has been unavailable recently a few times, went to an event twice but met exactly one new person, that person being one I have no intention of speaking to again. You know the people who are obviously testing the waters with certain comments regarding people protesting the regime to see if you're one of them. No, I am not, and your skin is darker than a mozzarella stick so I don't think the people you stand by think as positively of you as you want to think. Then the guy I may be able to hook up with. There have been messages sent back and forth and we seem to be genuinely interested in meeting up sometime so that's something to continue to pursue.

Earlier this week I left my place at 6:20 to get on the bus in Arcata to Martinez then the train to Bakersfield then the bus to Los Angeles then get picked up by Berkeley bear who wanted me to stay with him for the night instead of my original plan of sleeping in the station until the line to Long Beach opened in the morning then walking around until early check-in at the motel. Lengthy but uneventful but with my being done with Balatro I spent some of that time finally reading Live from Golgotha, meaning after several months Berkeley bear is getting it back. As a note, when I went to get more of the complimentary snacks on the train near the end of the trip, there were no Flamin Hot Cheetos, nacho cheese Doritos, or Cheez-Its left. Just the entire basket of Chex Mix basically untouched. Not surprised but it's not bad. It does deserve a bit more respect than that. I got to my destination a little before 12:30 so that was 18 hours right there. The motel in Long Beach happened the next day.

I am not at the cumdump motel. It's a different one that's cheap since the proper cumdump motel sounded beyond the sketchy that I tend to go for. Beyond sleazy. People talked about bedbugs, roaches, holes in the wall, and I did walk by it randomly yesterday. I took a picture to show Berkeley bear and Mark since it's the kind of place where just looking at it from the outside you know there's a problem. Actual blight as opposed to the NIMBY definition. It looks like if you open a random door you'll probably find one of three things: six people with open sores shivering in random positions with broken syringes strewn around, a dead body surrounded by containers of rotting takeout and feces all in a dense cloud of flies, or somebody actively making a snuff film.

Mark said that place looked "pure skank" and Berkeley bear gave "extra points for the crunched car in the parking lot".

Last notes before getting to a story: it hit almost 90 here today, certain companies that do TRT will be offering injectables soon so that removal of a zero from the price will put it into my range, I did hear some of the parrots in town, and a place in Humboldt proudly has its awards for being voted best pawn shop in the area on the wall which is darkly comic. It was only until 2022 so I'm not sure if the paper decided that having a category of "best pawn shop" was not the best look for the area or if there's another that took the crown. It's also darkly comic to see a new dispensary open up directly next to one that just went out of business. Who'd have thought that having a dispensary every few thousand people would be unsustainable in an area. Even Humboldt County can't pull that.

Also the Sacramento pup did send a message saying he was sorry he wasn't in touch. I was surprised and happy to see it since usually when people back away from you like he did they're trying to get rid of you but don't want to say it directly. We do need to hang in town sometime which gives me another reason to head back.

There are gay bars near here. Several on one stretch. Of course I had to hit them last night. See what it's all like. What it's all about. So I put on somewhat of a leather boy getup with my jacket, harness boots, and camo pants then went to one after another. One was closed for plumbing issues, one was rather normal and I didn't stay there long, by the third I was getting drunk and trying to not ruin today but talking happened for what it's worth, and the fourth was the one where things started. The third notably had "gaymer night", that term being one I hate since gamer as an identity has always felt ridiculous, which meant that the demo for the Switch Smash Bros. was playing on one of the screens over and over again.

In the last location I started to drink more and started getting looks. I moved next to the guy doing all of it and we began to talk. He said I was cute and all the discussions began. Philosophy things, where we are and where we've been, and the fact that his boyfriend just broke up with him. Boyfriend of under two months, but I get it. Sometimes you just need somebody to talk to and I made it clear I was up to try being the person he needed right then. No ulterior motives there.

Sometimes it's a good thing to try being the person somebody needs at the moment. People-pleaser? Being genuine? That therapy bullshit can fuck all the way off though with luck and effort by the time it gets there "all the way off" will be even further than it is today. Basically what it all comes down to is that you are supposed to people-please but there can't be any sign at all that you're putting any effort into it. We're just supposed to naturally know what everyone else is about and what to do in any given circumstance, a universal ishin denshin, more far-reaching and impossible than the original, with the addition of pathologizing not having it.

I will spare you my much lengthier rants about therapy culture.

I bought him a shot like he wanted and had one myself and we went to another location as I worried that today would be destroyed by too much alcohol. He said he wanted to fuck me and that he wanted to head back to his place. It was at this point that I noticed he was forgetting weird things and occasionally stumbling, so clearly he had been hammered beforehand. Even being hammered myself it felt like him shoving it in would be taking advantage of him but he did get the Uber and we headed back to his place anyway.

It took awhile for me to get his name since it was one of those I don't hear too often. Not in the wild, at least. Last time I came across it was a character in an indie game years ago. But I kept talking to him there. Shirts came off but it didn't go far since that didn't seem to be what he needed at the time. A lot of random talking, plenty of me reminding him that it's all about what he needs right about now, random music including a bit of Dolly Parton and some K-pop though he did not like my taste in K-pop, and he did kiss me more than a few times. Turns out when you kiss somebody chewing on a Zyn your lips burn. He did, along the way, say he was trying to figure me out. Like if I was some sort of Nazi or something with the look I had going. I can't blame him. Leather and punk have definite overlaps with fascist iconography and the buzzcut I've been forced into doesn't help. But it did end up with us in bed to some degree, though I intentionally kept it away from any fucking. He needed somebody to spend time with him. Talk to him. All of that. And he did end up wrapping himself around me in bed while he went to sleep, leaving me with the task of untangling myself from something that was a borderline submission hold without waking him up in the middle of the night. I left around 1:45 and got back to the motel around 2:30.

Now it's writing and cleaning myself out. It's not going well. Hell clean territory. Tomorrow is the thing I came down here for even if this doesn't happen, but here's hoping it does.

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The Conversion of Logan Arrow

Thu, 15 Jan 2026 06:35:44 GMT

So I had some hidden posts talking about the possible sir. It looked like it would end up a series at first so I started with a part 1. There were a grand total of two parts to it. Unexpectedly short.

No, I have not converted. That was just the name of the series.

Those of you who did not see the hidden posts, that meaning anyone other than Mark or Berkeley bear who are reading this so somewhere between zero and maybe three of you, may have noticed that I said he had a thing for a boy taking poz loads despite being neg himself. You then may have had a red flag large enough to be visible from space go up.

He talked dirty to me in addition to all the sweet parts. The thing he wants to do with his boy. Talk about whoring me out. About me being blindfolded and taking any load he tells me to. No loads refused. I have no choice in the matter. I will accept their seed from men I don't know and probably will never be permitted to know. That turns me the fuck on. That put me in heat even more than I already was since I want to have that night. I asked if he'd set up things like that before. He said he had for a few boys.

He told me he has dark fantasies. Things he likes doing with them. He wants his boy controlled entirely by him in the bedroom. Outside be the couple that is close, know each other well, go on dates, but sexually, in semi-private, he wants to dominate. The boy will take any load he says. An insatiable, poppered-up piggy sex addict under his total control. Other than the poppers I'm on board and if not for my body taking poppers horribly I'd be on board there too.

He asked if I was neg, poz, or neg on PrEP. I said I was neg on PrEP. Good boy, he said.

He called me that a lot.

"I want to whore you out one night. You take all loads I tell you to, no questions. All poz men, all night long. No loads refused. But first we've gotta get you off PrEP."

That gave me a slight chill through the ecstasy. He had used the phrase "conversion party" also but it all seemed surreal. Was it serious or the fantasy that some dudes have but won't do? On one bareback forum I used to go on before noping the fuck out there was a section where guys talked about some of these fantasies. Pozzing and some unimaginably fucked-up shit, usually involving meth. That portion of the forum was basically quarantine and the majority that were not a part of that scene thought it and everyone associated with it had to be purged. The admin gave the whole mealy-mouthed not judging fantasies kind of bullshit.

To those of you who say don't kinkshame: fuck you. You kinkshame the motherfucking hell out of this one.

That said Mark ended up commenting that there's a difference between kinkshaming and sounding the alarm. The difference between our takes is entirely semantic so that doesn't get a fuck you.

He said he was neg not on PrEP or Doxy. He talked about saving up the load to better corrupt me. There was the possibility that he just meant corrupt me in the sense of getting me more and more addicted to the huge amounts of spunk he gives but I doubt that now much as I doubt his status.

There were so many things he said that were fucked. That on a future trip I'd bring my PrEP bottle and we'd flush it. Eventually I'd be nice and "fertile" and get "pregnant". I've had dudes talk about getting me pregnant before but my guess and hope is that the ones before now were not talking about this sort of thing.

"Someday you'll be getting fucked not on PrEP, I'll whisper in your ear, 'he's positive', and you'll know that I control your body."

I was thinking of bringing a few of my expired pills to play along while having the real ones somewhere else. Give him the fantasy if he wanted to play it, though I wasn't sure how far he wanted to go with the fantasy or if it was genuine. There was a lot of wanting to play along. A bit wanting to get whored out, a bit curiosity, a bit the companionship. Bail if it goes too far.

One thing that haunted me was that he said he'd set up sessions for other boys before. I was originally thinking he meant "no loads refused cumdump", not "conversion party", the word "poz" being flavor for his fantasy, but thinking it may have been genuine got me thinking: did he get boys to stop taking PrEP and do those all-night poz gangbangs? And what happened to them after?

We talked a lot afterward. How he'd have me do a session with a blindfold and noise-canceling headphones with a hypno track about how I am to take all loads. How I would be nervous and it would take work and "grooming", building trust with me one session at a time, taking his loads off of PrEP, to get me where he wants me. And how I'd love it. And someday he'd whisper in my ear during a cumdump session: how many days have you been off of PrEP? And I'd make him happy with my answer. Giving him the control. And soon after I would end up converted for him.

I told him that I think I'm already corrupted in a sense. Already the absolute whore. It's just not out fully, mostly due to a lack of interest by tops. And I do believe that.

I wonder if the other boys thought like I did.

Early in the week of my trip we talked more. He had me in heat like he always did. About making me that insatiable sex pig and the setup we'd have down there. All the whoring out, no loads refused, single-minded toward taking more and more. How he knows he's already in my head and the grooming has already begun. I loved it but ignored the parts about getting me pregnant since saying it in that sense doesn't work for me.

Then he said he wanted me to stop taking PrEP for the rest of the week and we would have fun over the weekend.

Going all-in immediately.

Having me off of PrEP for six days before we even have our meetup.

I was reluctant and inquiring but still planning to play the game. Maybe work him down to three days just for this first session but lie and take the stuff anyway.

He ended up saying that he thinks he's too nasty for me. That it wouldn't work out. That I can keep doing my PrEP and he won't be available to play that weekend.

So it was real.

He did want to poz me.

I was thinking he might come back during the week as part of the game. You know if you really want...and start up again. He didn't. I even sent a message myself. No response so I assume he blocked my number but he was sure to send a message on Sniffies mocking me when I was in the motel in Sacramento. About how there's a hot muscled cumdump there today so good luck with your session.

I blocked him.

The funny thing is that I found myself regretting not playing along better. Getting some of that action and attention. Maybe even taking a few days off of PrEP, though fewer than promised, just as part of the game. Be his boy. Transgress.

He picked a good target. An irredeemable slut who craves not just cock but that sir who is okay with a strange boy and will give him the attention he would die for.

But he flew too close to the sun.

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Vacation needed in a sense

Thu, 15 Jan 2026 05:14:17 GMT

Back in Humboldt.

At least the bus ride means I now have eleven gold stakes in Balatro.

There is another event with Berkeley bear in a few weeks. Part of me needs a vacation to make up for the last one except this was possibly my most expensive one ever on top of being one of the worst. San Diego got to hand its medal, a bronze turd, off to Fresno, which in turn turned its silver turd over to this last trip. One of those trips where you feel far more alone and drained when you get back home than you did when you left. Gear Up still has the gold though due to the Berkeley bear event, which was nice and I'm so happy for him, plus there was that little amount of Mark time. Guess two hot chicken sandwiches and nam khao should get points too. Though all of those events always have me feeling like the pups at Gear Up. The pups that clearly only had a place because the handler, who genuinely had a place, was there. Berkeley bear is the handler, I am the pup, and I will do my best to avoid whimpering in a corner. It's one of those things where there's the feeling of love and community but that's their world that I observe through frosted glass.

There were refreshments there. Some were those Hershey's miniatures. The Special Dark bars were almost entirely untouched. As they should be.

One of the things I like doing down there also didn't go too well. Depressing in its own right and more points off. Though any urban birds are always a delight. Avian mallrats have a special place in my heart.

It feels like the future play may be to head to Sacramento whenever Mark has a few hours to spare- I would take the eight hours each way and get a room for two nights to get a block of like three hours to hang with him in a second- and Berkeley bear when I can stay with him but go somewhere else for dick. The idea is to try finding a route north to Bellingham since otherwise it would require heading down to Martinez and back up. Maybe finally try Redding even though I assume that one would not happen twice. That seems like the play. At least until the total collapse around us makes the triviality of this darkly comic.

The hope is that until then the life things that haven't been panning out start to. There are a few hopeful possibilities of which one is relevant here.

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Rumination over action

Tue, 13 Jan 2026 06:25:32 GMT

Sacramento was a bust.

Sacramento is the place I've tended to take regular trips to to feel a bit less lonely. I'm perfectly open about the fact that I know I take success being a slut as seriously as I do since you need something to pretend you have human interactions of any meaning at all. Usually I'll be back in Humboldt trying to interact with people online mainly since people don't seem to hang out, that is in general but with me even less, and pretend that online interactions mean much at all.

They really don't.

A lot of getting stoned as fuck up there too mainly due to not interacting with others but overall loneliness up there isn't as painful since there isn't an entire goddamn world around you you're not welcome in when you're nowhere. Of course maybe Humboldt isn't nowhere enough and the next step is being one of those dudes who goes into a random town in Alaska saying, yeah, I'm heading into the woods for a new beginning with just me and nature and everybody in town knows dude's dead as soon as winter comes.

In case you're wondering the reason I don't do other things to meet people that often is since they're somehow even worse for human interaction than putting my ass up. Interest groups of all kinds often get overly hardcore and bitchy, neurodivergent groups especially autistic are into that therapy culture shit that ignores neuroscience, psychology, sociology, and material conditions instead getting its stuff directly from the Journal of Trendy-Ass Woo-Woo Bullshit, and random people are terrifyingly fucked-up, as illustrated by more or less everything around us right about now.

But yes, I do know my coping mechanisms aren't good. I see the parallel with that lady who was face-down who went through some shit and turned to meth and fentanyl to mask it all later. Hookups are one of my drugs and weed is the one to take the edge off when the first isn't around. You get people doing that a lot. Do that stupid project or work too many hours or find meaning in a cult to keep their minds off of reality as much as possible. It's all on what the coping mechanisms in reach are.

I started the session early afternoon, got a lot of interest, nobody showed up, tapped out of the first part of my session three hours in, and decided to get some food. They had nam khao at a great local Thai place. Fuck yeah. While I was there like three guys wanted to fuck me right then, one of which loved fucking me blindfolded previously and shot big loads. Goddamnit. I tried again about three hours after that and pulled a grand total of one at the end. I put on my blindfold for him, he turned off the light when he got in, and he did his thing. Only guy to come by and only load of the night. It was a surprise that he dropped by since he was one of them asking for load counts and usually that means if you say a single-digit number you're not getting any. That said he acted surprised when there was none in me. What the fuck did he expect? I said I hadn't pulled anyone.

After he left I did plug myself up. A few hours later he sent me another message. He's vers so he was talking about sharing tops. One top he had in mind specifically. One with an eleven-inch dick. With no information at all I can be sure dude does not have an eleven-inch dick. Maybe eleven Grindr inches but not eleven actual inches. He is not a centaur. We could split the dick, he said. What the fuck does that even mean? Does one of us get the front half and the other the back half? Do we split it down the middle lengthwise like a baguette? Sure, it refers to taking turns but weird way to say it plus probably an awful idea.

He also talked about the possibility of a two-bottom cumdump session. The two of us seeing how many loads we can get. He talked about being DL/discrete [sic] which is a red flag but he also said no loads refused which means we are dealing with mixed messages here. I've spoken to him since about it since it does sound fun to give it a shot during a future trip. I did mention the idea of him getting a hood of some sort if he wants to be discreet, avoiding using the word "discreet" since it would sound like an attempt to correct him.

Other than that Sacramento gave me a second hot chicken sandwich, a bodega cat which I have rarely seen since NYC, the realizations that the burning smell following me around is the damage from bleaching my hair and that I've got almost an aging skater sort of aesthetic going right now, and in the morning Mark got in touch with me while I was heading out. He ended up intercepting me on the way to the station and we talked until boarding time. It's hard to overstate how much it means to me that he was up to do that. He's got a lot of shit going on and it's interesting comparing family situations. One tendency autistics have is to try comparing our situations to those others are having since it's like then we find common ground and are hence closer. Many people interpret that as trying to make it about us but that's not what it's about. The narcissistic relative thing he has brought up in his blog. There are a hell of a lot of parallels between the stuff he talks about with one of his relatives and mine, which came to mind since earlier in the trip there was another one of those awful phone conversations. It feels like we totally get each other's situations there. Wish we could bond over not having manipulative narcissists in the family instead.

The trip as a whole cost me basically a month's rent after including heading to the Bay Area to go to Berkeley bear's thing since the motels are way pricier than usual this time and staying with him is not an option this time. It was be in places I don't trust at all or be down 340 for two nights in a crappy place I know. They tried charging me 430 at first, later claiming they'd mixed up reservations, which seems like a feat since the reservations are all done online. Getting put into a better room than I'd reserved did seem too good to be true. Probably should have gone with one of the cheap places in El Cerrito or Oakland. Would have cost half as much but been hard enough to get there that it would have nuked the other thing I want to do in the area plus the possibility of roaches, bedbugs, or getting the bag stolen was too much.

There was mapo tofu with Berkeley bear today then tomorrow there's one thing I love doing in the Bay Area and later on the Berkeley bear event. A bit to look forward to then back up to Humboldt. No trying to get laid, though. That will have to happen some other trip. Before then you'll get a condensed version of the hidden posts about the one who sounded like a possible sir.

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The null update

Sun, 11 Jan 2026 06:55:50 GMT

Last night I got a tallboy of Steel Reserve. Just some 8% malt liquor. One of them. And somehow it gave me a hangover that is now at about 14 hours after sleeping most of the day. Something like four guys got in touch with me earlier, three to fuck me a fourth who was doing his own session in another room, but with how things were I didn't even try getting ready. A multi-hour session getting ready while throwing up doesn't work so I hope to make it happen tomorrow. Otherwise this trip is a bust already.

Mark did drop by for a few. I wasn't a great conversationalist especially while puking into a garbage can. He did like the hair, I think, and one of the little Berkeley bear things I had to show him. Here's hoping he can hang out tomorrow for a minute.

I did have the hot chicken sandwich today. It probably won't be doing anything to me by the afternoon, when I intend to get some dick. If anything it will help since I was in panic mode over nothing coming out of me for the longest time, which is one of the things that happens when somebody like me is trying to keep things in any sort of condition where sex is a possibility.

I officially deleted my BBRT account. Finally. Realtime in what sense? Geologically?

Here's hoping for things to talk about tomorrow. Things with the "it looked like he could have been sir but he was just a psycho", which are currently in hidden posts, will be rewritten and posted soon enough.

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Kinship

Sat, 10 Jan 2026 07:11:54 GMT

I am currently in my motel room in Sacramento. I'll be a ho tomorrow if all goes well, go around town Sunday, then it's off to the Bay Area for the event with Berkeley bear.

I'm so happy for him.

I bleached my hair earlier this week since if I'm stuck with a buzzcut at most from now on I'm at least going to have fun with it. I hope that Mark can see it in person this weekend. Berkeley bear will like it and hopefully he will like future fun with hair.

The ads are up on a few sites but no takers, of course. Unless there's some miracle the BBRT profile is getting deleted finally. The last one from there seemed good with the exception of liking when neg boys take poz loads but we haven't spoken since Sunday, my assumption is that we won't speak again, and sometime the specifics of that one will go up for general viewing.

There is currently a cumdump here that I can hear getting great action. Hope it goes well for me tomorrow.

Upon getting here I hit the motel then walked down to the porn shop on Broadway to look for the plug I want after seeing one in a TravelBreeder video, specifically a video where CumFilledAss got used rubbers emptied into it. A just as important purpose was to see if there were any of those used condoms around to empty into me but no back room there. I headed back up to the motel then the sex shop with arcade to the north of here but again, no plug and nothing to put into it anyway. Several hollow plugs, not the sort I'd like. Also the arcade has always sucked and will always suck. As for my present hollow plugs the Pighole is too large for my tastes and the new one from back in Arcata is too small plus neither is clear.

On the way to the sex shop with arcade, if you're walking from here, you hit the largest homeless encampment I know of in this town excluding the one by the river. There's that connection I've got there. The kinship, specifically the sort of detached kinship that's part of the zeitgeist. The knowledge, revelation, longing, horror.

Just got a message from I think the one who talked to me on Sunday. Basically mocked me coming by when there's someone hot around. Hope muscle dude is gone tomorrow.

But back to the homeless encampment and homeless in general. I bounced around motels for a long time and have hooked up with more than a few dudes who ended up not having places either. Pretty sure one of them last time had no place since I think he recognized me on the way in. Would still hook up with him. Sort of like the blonde dude back in Eureka who I had guessed worked a physical job hence mild funk until he took his boots off and if we ever have another quick fuck since he was great at getting in there and shooting a huge load quickly the boots stay on. I know a lot of guys would be freaked out by some of that. How that must be some fucked fetish or the wrong kind of being a whore. But I feel I am fundamentally them and that's what's going on here. There's money to work with now but it's clear how it's all going to go. Soon enough, and with the speed at which the world is collapsing it looks like sooner than later, that's my reality. Those who have no place in the world end up like that since there are few options. Paths are closed off now but as a consolation it's becoming apparent that they always were. The options that are available, short of ones requiring extreme luck, are worse than finding random places to sleep for the night. And so I'm waiting for that inevitability. It's hard to call them my people but it is my place.

I won't have burned twice as bright for half as long. The burning would be more akin to that first time you get gonorrhea since who the fuck asked for that but at least it's over quick.

On the way back from the sex shop a guy with a GoPro helmet was next to this one lady who was face-down in the dirt by the sidewalk, their two bicycles on the ground. He told me that she had been taking some sort of drug, he asked if she was okay, and soon after she faceplanted into the ground and appeared unresponsive. I didn't know whether to call for an ambulance or what since I don't carry Narcan around. We observed her for awhile and soon the breathing became noticeable, then stronger, then the snoring started. The idea was to watch until we knew she was okay. Along the way this other dude probably on something and probably homeless came by. Not much talking. Then there was the other who walked by dragging his stuff in a Radio Flyer behind him. A plastic Radio Flyer. Something about it being a plastic Radio Flyer made it haunting. It's hard to explain why.

We ended up watching until she got up and started talking to us. She had gone through a ton of shit. You can see why things ended up that way for her but there are good signs for the immediate future. I ended up leaving when it looked like some of the drugs were coming out again. Should have stayed, was not staying when it looked like at least two people would be smoking some weird shit. And all of this while cars passed.

I hope at the moment that my world is more ass-up in this room instead of out there.

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Scattered notes from the last post

Thu, 01 Jan 2026 20:57:24 GMT

In my notes for the post about the session there were several things that didn't end up getting mentioned. That is mostly since my notes always end up in several places. Here they are, things that were meant to be in the narrative but got neglected.

One, there's always the worry after you've gotten fucked a bit that you messed up no matter what you do. When you're opened up you start to smell your actual insides and your insides sure as fuck don't smell like lavender. I've said it before but it has to be reiterated. Even knowing that it's coming it's hard to assume you didn't fuck up somewhere.

Two, regarding the hookups that never happened, specifically ones who have been saying they want to meet up for at least most of a year now, it does piss me off that dudes keep pretending they want to meet up when they're not that into the idea. There's nothing wrong with saying that. Just say it instead of playing games. Don't join my group if you don't fully intend to come. Don't pretend I'm the choice if I'm one of the backups. Just say where things stand and if you want to drop a quick load drop a message right then.

Three, ill repute has power to it. The different senses of transgression that sessions in different places give you. A cheap motel that you invite random guys to has a very different feel to it than a bathhouse which has a different feel to it than the back room at a bar and so forth. There's something about that cheap motel feel.

Four, I may have figured out why I was bleeding the last few times I cleaned out. The CBD anal serum I have which may or may not do anything but people vouch for it but people will vouch for anything CBD or associated with weed because of course has a glass eyedropper for dosing. I noticed that the tip is chipped. A little pointy. Given that I've gone as far as to put it in myself at the end to get it a little bit deeper that would cause a cut.

That's it for the extra notes. I have been texting back and forth with and talking on the phone with the guy I met. Daily. He has me in a sense. He's always fun to talk to, seems awesome except for one thing, and keeps me in heat. Sometime soon we'll meet up again in Sacramento and I'm looking forward to it.

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Reuniting ratio and L

Thu, 01 Jan 2026 04:44:05 GMT

This is one of those classics where the tense is off because I wrote at several different times.

I'm currently waking up to the hot chicken sandwich and a Bang energy drink I was going to have last night to keep the session going before I tapped out. My ass didn't get ruined. Things just went badly plus the joint didn't help me want to stay awake.

The sandwich is what I need right now. I didn't need to rub my eye with part of my hand that was not supposed to have any spice on it after taking a bite but it doesn't ruin the enjoyment in the large scale.

I don't need to kill another roach either. I spent a ton of time here while I was looking for a new place and during all of those times combined I killed I believe one roach. That means this session contained eight times the roach of all previous sessions combined. Maybe there were two but that's not much better. Having quadruple cumulative roach versus octuple cumulative roach in one stay is a smaller improvement than you would think. At least the guy at the counter was horrified when I told him that eight of the nine roaches I've killed here after many stays were during these two days.

The day before my session I had put out feelers. One guy had said he was coming to my session and another was supposed to, then there was at least one other that seemed like a good bet. There were hot guys doing sessions nearby so there was that red flag. Then cleaning hell where it keeps coming so you go from feeling normal to feeling messy to feeling unclean and you're not sure if you're done when it comes time. I had to try anyway. Messages out on Sniffies, post up and a few more out on BBRT.

The one on Sniffies who accepted the invitation the day before sent a message shortly after everything began and showed up quickly. Black, a bit scruffy, maybe a mild habit of some sort, took a lot of poppers. Enough where the poppers in the air did get to me briefly. He didn't get super-hard but was fun, a nice guy, and finished inside. He shifted back seemingly involuntarily when I cleaned him off due to the sensitivity. Got it. Too sensitive to get the full treatment. One down to the base softly and off. Later that night I got a message saying he had a great time and would be up for it when I drop by again.

There were a few messages going out. Nothing working including the ones sent out to guys who have said repeatedly that they want to meet up with me or meet up with me again. Not a good night.

Then the universe glitched. I shifted into another reality, one with rules foreign to our own.

Somebody responded meaningfully on BBRT.

I had responded to an oink earlier and quickly got a message back, then we started to go back and forth, then it went to texting. He wanted me to take loads. He said he wanted to whore me out sometime too. The problem was I couldn't get any loads before he came by but I made sure to be ass up, as he had requested. I asked if he was more the daddy or sir type.

He is sir.

I am boy.

He ate my ass and called it perfect. Plenty of dirty talk. He told me how he just moved here and was glad he found somebody who could be his boy so quickly. Somebody he could corrupt. Somebody he could whore out. No loads refused. He tells me who's going to breed me and I do what he says. Yet there's this sense of connection in there that isn't something entirely about control. It's everything I want modulo the fact that he seems to have a thing for a boy taking poz loads despite being neg himself. He moved over to my mouth and had me suck him. He had me kiss him and it felt right. He fucked me, continuing to talk dirty to me, and soon he said that he was breeding me. It was a surprise mostly since his tone of voice hadn't changed at any point from the beginning until after he left, including during the orgasm, when he still had things to say. Since I've been using the numbing lube lately I hadn't noticed but he was pulsing, as I learned when putting my hand back and felt his cock. The pulses were powerful. And they kept going. It was absolutely the sort of load where I'd have felt the ropes firing against my insides and felt myself filling up if not for the numbing lube.

Next time I'll have to not use that lube until things start to get uncomfortable.

We're going to meet up again sometime. I'm trying to find the right day to head back down and be his boy more.

It went back to shit after this but that encounter might make up for it.

Or it could be the beginning of a new end.

One guy was interested. Loved my ass. I said I was at Econolodge and he gave a "yikes" and that he doesn't touch that scene. I said that I totally get it. He had another response and I was all, no, seriously, I understand. Not holding it against you. He blocked me.

Fucker.

I get being turned down but the reality is I totally get it. That was not trying to get him despite the fact that it's Econolodge. There was not a single thought in my mind that even considered the idea that he might drop by if I said the right things. It's understanding that a lot of dudes don't want to touch my world.

My avoidance of men who aren't massive whores due to figuring I'm doing them a disservice should be clear to anyone who has read enough of my posts. He was another of those.

I get it.

Though I am often offended and hurt deeply by those who turn away my world this is not one of those cases.

I get it.

I started drinking around this point. Put down an Earthquake partially so I would worry less about what was happening.

Another sounded great. Anonymous, DL, great dick pic, fun profile. Asked for a face pic. I sent one while simultaneously getting his. It looked AI-generated or at best put through tons of filters. Like he wasn't real. I was afraid that something was up but thought it would be worth trying anyway. He asked if I had boner pills. Used capital letters in random places, as in not even just when there is a T but any given random noun. He said he was arriving in his Mercedes and asked if I'd come down or he'd come up.

Nothing is not suspicious about this. I waited for him with the door cracked nontheless.

He never came up. I blocked him soon after and closed the door.

I'm happy he didn't come up but wonder if my pics are getting a new usage now.

I went out and smoked one of the mini joints I bought later. It was $10 for five half-gram prerolls in a nice little glass jar. That means $14 an eighth, all rolled for your convenience and in said nice little glass jar, and smoking half of one knocked me on my ass. Those who don't think about the ramifications of anything might think that's a great price. It's fire sale prices which are not a positive economically.

One of the dudes who breeds me whenever I come by sent a message later, around 1, and came by later. He started to fuck me. He has pictures up but I put on the blindfold anyway since every time we've fucked I've been blindfolded. I had every intention of saying, hey, I know I've seen your pics but this is almost our thing now, but being stoned meant his cock felt fucking unreal. I kept trying to talk but the ecstasy (edit thanks to Mark: I mean the feeling. There was no E involved here. I don't even know where to get things since I don't trust the plugs on Sniffies and Kik. Probably for the best since I'd probably be on weird shit of the non-T variety during some of my sessions and on gear all the time) was ruining my ability to speak more than the weed. He suddenly stopped, got dressed, and left. I'm not sure if he'd gotten off or something had gone wrong. Maybe cleaning went wrong, maybe he was disturbed by my inability to speak. I sent a message and got no response later. Hoping to find out what the issue was and that this didn't kill anything in the future.

I went to sleep soon after blocking or deleting several dudes who clearly are not truly intending to meet up with me again unless they're desperate, including the pup who said he liked me at one point, which brings us to the hot chicken sandwich in the morning.

That sandwich is my single truly indispensable Sacramento food. Above the meatball sub and the Michelin-recommended Thai place.

Then it was onto the train, then a bus, and back to Arcata.

I've texted sir and spoken to him several times since. I'm looking forward to meeting up with him again. There are things I won't talk about here but have no idea where this is going modulo a few basic things.

Also there don't appear to be any roaches in my room so they probably didn't get into my stuff. We'll see about that.

The loads taken to cockroaches killed ratio should be at least 5:1 so it is still not acceptable.

My ass couldn't deal with the forty loads that would be needed to make up for eight roaches.

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A before within the after

Sun, 28 Dec 2025 06:12:05 GMT

I am in Sacramento. Tomorrow I'm having a session so today was travel and a bit of preparation in a sense. Lighter food today, the boner drink that I'm sure has "undeclared ingredients" since one with almost an identical bottle- the only difference being one letter in the name- got hit by the FDA for undeclared ingredients awhile back. That's how you know a boner drink is good. Also how you know you don't have much of a sense of self-preservation, as if planning to get crossfaded and take anonymous men blindfolded isn't a much larger sign. Here's hoping that food, Imodium, Metamucil, and boner drink timing make for a good session tomorrow.

This boner drink is a little different from last time in that now they have it in extra strength. That makes it an extra bad idea.

Of course nothing has been happening in Humboldt since it's hard to set things up but one guy I've met from a kink circle, or at least their chat since there haven't been many meetups and most were not my sort of thing, seems to be hellbent on hooking up with me despite our having little info about each other. I'm not sure what to do with that. Put that on the list of things I don't know how to deal with.

A few days ago I went down to Berkeley from Arcata to hang out with Berkeley bear and go to his Christmas party. Stayed with him until this morning. It is always odd when you have less connection with everyone else there than everyone else. With the ones I know there's the sort of distance that's akin to the distance I have with some of the guys who hit me up when I'm in Sacramento except without the dick and they're around longer. The concept of these "interact with people briefly every few months at most" relationships has always struck me as strange. It has all the hallmarks of something transactional like the Sacramento quasi-regulars but without actual transactions.

Other parts of my trips around the Bay Area were almost something out of Samuel Beckett. The broken and the used up, the familiar becoming foreign in the process. Then there was something in San Francisco that almost felt like something was being reformed, planting a new garden in the decay, but maybe given the state of the world it's more akin to terminal lucidity. I'm noticing that many of the places I go and things I do now have this feeling of fading away in them.

It has to be said that the specific thing in San Francisco had the feel of one of those times decades ago I will always cherish. Like it's being recreated in a sense and in better days it would need nourishment and care to return. A cultivar that has not been seen forever but now an old seed may be sprouting.

I have killed three roaches so far in this room. The usual number is zero. Not a good look but then again I now know there's no reason to feel bad if I end up making a disturbance tomorrow. The concept of a cumdump motel going downhill also seems vaguely Beckettian.

Hopefully it will be possible to see Mark tomorrow since he wasn't in the mood today due to things that are very "I totally get it". Get the hot chicken sandwich and put it in the fridge for after the session, get booze and other supplies, get ready. And here's hoping there are responses to what I put up on Sniffies and BBRT especially from the quasi-regulars.

Who am I kidding? It all comes down to tomorrow. Even if guys say they're coming on Sniffies tonight the ones who may show up are the ones who send messages like "can I come over and breed you" during the session. And BBRT? The only reason I'm trying there is since the month from the Los Angeles trip isn't over.

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