Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Sex Party Etiquette: I Hit YOU Up, NOT You & THAT!

How many times have you went online for a hook-up, and when a guy you've wanted responds, especially after a number of miss chances, you get a message saying, "I'm here with 'so-and-so'. Come join..."?

Burying your annoyance deep inside because truth be told, when you hit the person up, you wanted him...alone.

So playing along with this makes you have to go to that other person's profile and see if they are of interests to you. And sometimes they're not. However, whether it's out of extreme horniness or you felt a connection beyond sexual that's so strong in your interaction with that initial person, that in spite of that voice in your head saying that other person is a bad idea, you agree to meet up. That is actually how my last "Sex Party Etiquette" post started out.

Me and the host spoke a few times before, but nothing came to fruition. Then we had an exchange before I went out the door that night. On my way home, out of boredom, I went to the website on my phone, and saw he finally responded to the message I sent after a couple of hours later. Don't you fuckin' hate that? So like too many guys, he dragged his feet in replying. And they wonder why they end up alone when they don't respect someone else's time. I mean, just because someone is a one-night stand, that doesn't make them any less human, or their time any less valuable.

Anyway, when I replied back to that message, he replied telling me in the body of the message that he had the other guy there --- the guy who would later become the ill-mannered, popper-addicted asswipe of "Mi Casa AIN'T Su Casa, Bitch!"

Why is this wrong?

Because when you hit someone up online, unless it is a couple's profile, you are looking for that one single person ALONE. Not that person and somebody else. When you open up an email to read its body all to discover that somebody else is already there, even if we don't want to admit it to them or ourselves, we feel cheated. And we have every right to feel as such. 

The reason we won't admit to feeling cheated is because this degree of self-loathing by accommodating those invitations to 3-ways without question has become a sad degree of normal. With that said, before I continue, let me include calling out myself as a perpetrator of this self-loathing, ignorant behavior. So when the opportunity presents itself, we and the hosts both continue the chain of selfishness and self-loathing in ourselves, and we enable the selfishness of these hosts.

This is especially true if you and/or the host is drunk/high on something. Be it alcohol, marijuana, poppers, or harder drugs, because your brains are not right. So if you have a normal code of decency that makes you think about your self-worth, as well as the feelings of other people involved, lust plus that chemical(s) are going to impair your judgment.

Some might be quick to say that this post was written out of spite, because of the bad experience from my last "Sex Party Etiquette" post. Well, let me tell you how you're quite wrong. If anything, that bad experience opened my eyes to look at the root of that situation, and how far back that bad root dated. It made me see how I've always felt slighted by someone offering me an invitation when there's already someone else there. For proper etiquette would be to indicate that other person's presence beforehand by the host telling it in his profile, or in the subject line of his email.  However, due to their mishandling, I always felt that all of those hosts snuck that information about that other person in the body of the email because subconsciously they knew they were being selfish at my (and maybe the other person's) expense.

These hosts know they're trying to trap you. They knew you really want only them. But they want to have their cake and eat it too. So they feel if they build your anticipation up enough, when they spring that other person on you, you'll want them so much that you won't say "No"...like you should. And that is how I ended up in that fix. Me led by a person with a weak and selfish mind to show myself having a moment of a weaker mind. Well, those days are gone. Hence why I am writing this post.

This post is meant to let you know that such a person is looking to boost their sexual ego at your expense. And for that, their ego needs to be deflated. So the next time you receive an invitation where another party is not told to you beforehand by the person's profile, or subject line of their message, drop them like a hot potato. For they deserve to be taught that lesson of how you are a human being. One who also has a craving for intimacy. Intimacy where you should not be tricked into the idea of "three's company". Intimacy where, at least for the initial encounter, the old saying still applies...of how "Two's company, and three's a crowd."

Friday, September 12, 2014

Diversity Rules Talks To Me

In the May 2013 issue of Diversity Rules Magazine, they published my poem, "Seeing Me Before I". Well, this September they are back with their podcast on BlogTalkRadio called Diversity Rules Magazine On The Air. And its host and magazine editor, Jim Koury has invited me to be a guest.

I have no idea what topics we're going to discuss. 
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/diversityrulesmagazine/2014/09/18/lenair-xavier-joins-diversity-rules-magazine-on-the-airAll I know is that I told Jim that NO TOPIC IS OFF LIMITS. However, I have made some suggestions of some under-discussed things in the gay community that I have named on this blog, my Facebook, and Twitter, but I will not name them here.

Also, PLEASE take advantage of the chance to call in to the show, or post questions and comments on the show's Facebook page. I know you have questions about the many positions I've been vocal about. So whether you agree, disagree, or simply want to know more, this will be your chance to have me give some level of a response.

I hope you'll tune in, and I also hope to hear from you. And if by chance you miss it live, don't worry. You will have a chance to hear it afterwards. Until Wednesday.... 

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Movie Review: PRIDE

This past Thursday, thanks to Leslie Lohman Museum of Gay & Lesbian Art, I attended a screening of a movie coming out in selected cities of September 26th entitled, PRIDE.

PRIDE is based on a true story that I must admit that knew nothing about. It's synopsis reads:

Realizing that they share common foes in Margaret Thatcher, the police and the conservative press, London-based gays and lesbians lend their support to striking miners in 1984 Wales.

When Mark Ashton (played by Ben Schnetzer) originally proposes the idea of Lesbians & Gays Supports the Miners, many gays in the room turned their backs and left. Feeling miners have done nothing for gays, so why should gays stand up for them. This gave me a sad moment thinking to how 30 years later, this is a lesson the gay community still needs to learn. For it brought to my mind how I quite recently addressed in a blog post where I called out gay media on how they demand acceptance from the mainstream media and arts, but when an all-inclusive event that should get gay support presents itself, 30 years later, gay media's actions still show the attitude of "why should we bother?". In short, the movie addresses how we all need to get over our "whoa is me" attitudes, by simply support one another. Thereby lessening the sadness of the woes. To the point that the woes may soon be gone. For whatever your community, you are never the only ones struggling.

This message was in my opinion very well-written by Stephen Beresford and directed by Matthew Warchus, with humor in just the right places to make a serious message, and under-discussed part of gay culture not create a downer of a movie.

Speaking of humor, a lot of the hilarity that ensues is when the London gays and lesbians are questioned by those in the mining town of Wales about whether or not many of the stories they've been told about gays and lesbians are actually true. Which makes for even greater laughs are times when this small group of gays & lesbians just happen to make some of the more positive theories seem like undeniable facts. Such as how at a gathering of the gays and miners, one of the more flamboyant gay characters, Jonathan (played by Dominic West) who was originally told to turn down his flamboyance, becomes such a hit with the ladies when he decides to get the party going with his dancing skills, that a couple of the straight miners decide they want to learn how to dance...A skill that works for them later on.

So with all that said, I highly recommend seeing PRIDE. It's almost 2 hours long, which for many movies these days creates a snooze-fest if it doesn't have action, explosions, and special effects to be used as filler. But in this case, PRIDE definitely holds your attention. Enough to the point that the action you might find because of this movie, might come after the movie. For this movie just might spark the activist in you.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Sex Party Etiquette - Mi Casa AIN'T Su Casa, Bitch!

Back in mid-June, those of you who are friends with me on Facebook might recall this update:
Then within 24 hours, that update led to this tweet on my Twitter:

So how does that Facebook update lead to that tweet from Twitter?

It's because the tweet is about one of the guys from the threesome,...who I came to regret inviting over to my place later that night. 

I started regretting giving this invitation early on. As you will see later, my regret started before his arrival to my apartment.

When you first walk into my apartment, to your left is the stove and the sink. There is a light hanging over that area. A light that you won't see once you walk to your right, because their is a little wall coming down from the ceiling blocking that light. My bed is more than 6 feet away from that area. So any heat from that light is not going to affect the temperature of my room if we're on my bed. Now, the same can't be said for the light fixture that is over my bed. But I was smart enough to turn that light out. So what does this guy says?

"You should turn out that kitchen light. Makes less heat."

Hearing this reminded me how he did that same type of thing during the threesome at that host's apartment. I can't remember exactly over what, but his saying that to me jarred my memory to what I felt that host should say when this ill-mannered jerk did it to him. 

For while I maintained my calm during both instances, my first thought was to say something along the lines of what I thought that other host should have said, which was, "Look here, you Poindexter mutha fucka! Don't you dare come into my home trying to give me a science lesson, telling me what lights to turn out in my house! If your ass got here on time, instead of your missing brain cells from sniffing those mutha fuckin' poppers letting you go 11 stops pass your stop before realizing you're going the wrong way, this apartment wouldn't have gotten this hot! Furthermore, you're not a friend, you're just a trick. So mi casa ain't su casa, bitch! Don't get it twisted!!!"

And yes, that was the part where my regret before he actually arrived began. For while I was waiting for him, I initially had my fan on to cool the room. However, the wait got so long that I fell asleep. And what woke me up was him texting me about being 11 stops pass the stop he assumed he was supposed to get off of. But with that, the cool night air that the fan was blowing had made me cold. So I cut the fan off. Hence why by the time he got there, my apartment was hot again.

I was so angry by his telling me what to do with my lights that I did something I never do with sex. I used sex for revenge. We flip-fucked with the sole purpose of me giving him good ass and good dick that he would want again, but would be denied. And as the "sex" went on he solidified me sticking to that plan.

For he sniffed so much poppers that he made me get a headache in my own apartment. Much to my chagrin, I've had guys do poppers in my apartment before. In fact, it might surprise you, but the guy from my video "Why It's 'WE Fucked'" used poppers. But he or no other guy was such a popper-addict like this jerk that in order to survive them being in my home that I would have to hold my breath each time they took a huff. And since this is my home, why should I have to hold my breath? This is my place to be free.

So he decided that he was going to top me. He was good for a bit, then like a common popper-head, the poppers made his dick go limp. So he had me in missionary position, boring to death trying to make out with me. Because by this point, the muscle-relaxing effect that makes poppers moronic to take had taken effect on his dick. So he wasn't doing a bit of thrusting because his dick was getting more and more limp. Therefore, slowly slipping out of my tight hole.

After I got tired of his popper-addicted presence giving me a headache in my own home, I decided it was time for this pathetic charade to end. So it might have seemed like a tired line, but it was all too true. I told him that I had a headache, and that I had no Advil or anything in the apartment to take for it. Therefore, I had to go to the store. Do you know what this ill-mannered, socially inept fucktard said next?

"Can I stay here and wait for you?"

Was this mutha fucka for real?! Now, either he: a) sniffed so much poppers that his brain cells were truly gone, b) was that ill-mannered and socially inept, that he had no idea as to when the fuckin' party was over, or c) a combination of a & b! First of all, considering the direction from which I later discovered that he came to my place from, there is no open mini-marts except right outside the train station, which is about a 10 - 15 minute walk away. So did he really think that I was going to leave him - an uncommon trick, a stranger - alone in my apartment for 20 - 30 minutes???!!!

Again, I have to say "Mi casa ain't su casa, bitch!"

So I replied, "No, you've gotta go." So we got dressed and I walked him to the train station. However, I felt so accomplished in getting him out of my apartment, my headache lightened up enough that I almost forgot to buy my Advil.

If you recall, I did punch a fucker across the room for invading my personal space that is my body. And I treat my home with the same amount of protection. So this guy, after all of what he did, he's lucky that he walked out of my place in one piece...

Well, his outer body might have been in one piece. But his brain and common sense is obviously fuckin' falling apart at the seams. And due to no one else's fault but his ignorant ass own!