Homeboi's Diary

Just got off the phone with Mart. We spoke briefly last night about me wanting to go out and get wasted over the weekend. It is a Bank Holiday weekend, after all. Mart was suprised that I wasn't out already, but I told him I'd only just got in from work. So we arranged our little outing.

This ties in with the previous post. Neither of us (Mart and Me) has much money to play with, so it will have to be done on the cheap. Arsehole, who we don't want arround is not invited, as a) he went out yesterday, b) he'll bring us all down, c) he'll make me feel uncomfortable, and d) he's got no fucking money anyway!! We picked Sunday night due to Mart's work committments. The idea being to have couple of drinks, couple of pills, end up in a club and take it from there. He phones this morning, due to the finance situation going clubbing is out. So, the revised plan is: go out and have couple of drinks, couple of pills, back to Marts to chill later.

'And this time we'll try and keep our clothes on!' he says.
Yes, honey, we'll try, but I know that neither of us are making any promises.

I was working yesterday in Stockport with my manager. Arsehole had been at mine waiting for some workmen to replace a window that had been broken over the weekend. Not sure how it happened - we did have an argument and he did throw the phone around in my work room, but didn't notice it until Sunday afternoon.

Anyway, due to Arsehole getting pissed a few weeks back and losing his keys, he had to borrow my set while he was there. The idea being that he'd lock up and get the keys to me. He'd also been paid that day - he owes me big money but that's another story. So, he calls to Stockport to get money out of the bank and they calls to return my keys. He also gave me some money. I don't look how much it is, but he says that I should look after some for him. No problem with that. I've looked after money for people before. The day continues...

I'm just about to leave (6.15pm) when he rings up asking if I can bring down £20 to the station for him. I'm not very impressed by this. I've had a hard day, I'm tired, hungry and want to get home. I also note that he's pissed and I never interact well with him when he's pissed. Grudgingly I agree and make my way to a local station to get a train to meet him. I have to wait a half-hour before the next train comes. I take the time to look at how much money he gave me:- £70. Now this is good. He was supposed to pay me back the £50 that I leant him last weekend, so if I give him the £20 that's his then we're straight, aren't we?

We eventually meet, I'm 3 minutes late and he's apparently jumping up and down. I do the hand off - making sure not to show him all the money I gave him - he didn't ask, he got pissed, he won't remember - and I notice just how arseholed he really is. I quickly make excuses to leave. Well, not really excuses. I got cold waiting for the train, I was gonna be desperate for the loo shortly (not immediately), I was tired and hungry. The loo thing is funny. I can't hold on as long as I used to - when I need to go that means I need to GO!!.

I'm home about an hour and a half when the phone goes again. "Talk me down!!" he says. "Pardon?", "Talk me down, that fuckin' Paul has spiked me." he responds. Knowing what he's like is a bad thing (for him) as he can't get anything over on me. "So you've not taken anything?" I enquire. Sheepishly he answers that he's done two lines of 'K' with Paul. "Ah, I see." I say.

Now Paul is a funny bugger. If you start doing drugs with him, he'll keep slipping you them. Sometimes you notice, sometimes you don't. Arsehole has been caught like that before. Arsehole is also like a kid in a candy store when it comes to alcohol and drugs. I think you probably get the picture, I don't need to say anymore. I don't have a problem with drugs, or with people taking drugs. hypocriticalcrytical. While I don't condone the spiking of peoples drinks - I had it done to me at a party once and ended up in hospital - Arsehole knows what Paul is like and should know better. But then, did Paul spike or did Arsehole ask (read: beg)? I'll never get to the bottom of it. Arsehole has a memory like a goldfish in a sieve (how did I get here?) when he's intoxicated. He won't even remember phoning me.

Anyway, I've digressed. Moral dilemmal dilema: Do I use his toxicated state to get one (ok, a dozen) over on him or do I be honest and tell him what an arsehol how much money he really gave me?

I forgot to mention, but I went to the Hospital on Monday for more blood to be taken. Kyle and Mart stayed over on Sunday night. They saw how jumpy and aggitated I got. They're not worried, just a little concerned as it's out of character for me. Mart came to the hospital with me. He wanted to, he'd never done it with James (as he never felt like going), I think he wanted to be there for me and also see the experience I go through.

Fortunately, it was a quick in an out: appointment 12.30 (ok, so we did arrive at 12.00 so I could have a coffee and something to eat so I didn't go into shock), called in at 12.35, and finished by 12.40. Margaret's little exercise worked, to a fashion. I didn't panic or worry about going to the hospital until that morning, and I'm guessing that's fairly normal. It all depends on now whether I can keep it up. I have to go back in a fortnight (yesterday) for the results.

I'm getting better at giving the blood - either that or they're getting used to getting out of me. I couldn't watch Grace put the needle in (still not quite that brave) but I could watch her drawing it out. All vials filled, no marks, no problems. This is the appointment that can hurt (still very allergic to pain) but it's the other one that I get really nervous about. Not because of Margaret, she's lovely, just because of what that appointment means. I always have a fear of a sudden change in the numbers, and that could spell bad news.

I've just got in from a shit day at work. I mean really shit day. Started with EMail this morning: can you sort out a, b, c, d, ..... x, y, z? Oh, and while you're at it Friday's meeting is cancelled, but there's one today at 2pm that you didn't know about and you're seeing me on Thursday... Needless to say I could have quite easily told them where to stick their job this morning, but I resisted. I love my job, I really do (ok, so I'm a freak as well as all the other complications), I just wish I had the time to do it!!

So I get back home after two meetings and being stuck for an hour on a bus that had one gear - CRAAAAAAWWWWWWL! - get on the computer, and look at what's happening in the lives of the blogs I've taken a fancy to. I start out at 'From The Ashes', as it's a new one to me, to find I've been mentioned. And in a very sweet way too. It all started from one of these HaloScan comment thingies where I left a message.

He'd had some unfavourable responses to an advert he'd found where a cat gets decapitated by a Ford Ka sunroof. I am a cat lover but out of interest, despite the warning, I followed the link. Yes, I was shocked. But, of course, it couldn't be a real cat - not enough blood left dribbling down the windscreen (sorry for the graphics!). I read Tom's response and thought, whoa, I like the way this guy defends himself. Hence I left a comment, never expecting anything else... So thank you, again, Tom for your lovely comments and really putting a smile on my face today.

While I was about it, I thought I'd see what other comments had been posted on this blog. Must admit, I've not checked while I've been doing the blog so I was pleased that HaloScan could combine them for me.

In no specific order:-
Stevo (rubbish gays) thinks I have style. He's not met me which is probably why he thinks I have it. Even though we both live in Manchester.
And jaymaster likes shaving 'down stairs' as well. I'd done balls, arse and base (of dick) for some years and always liked the look and feel. Yes, there is something about eating hairless balls (for both users). And now I have another reason for wanting to get myself a set of electric clippers...

'Ask Jeeves' the popular search engine that I used to think was very good until it decided that interpreting questions was too much like hard work and that it should become keyword-based like any other search engine is in the process of rebranding itself as a 'find' engine according to some billboards I've noticed on my travels.

All that aside, though, I looked up the search stats from NedStat and found the list of keywords rather intriguing. Here are the 24:

With which key words
1.	tits	13.	sister
2.	dimmock	14.	the
3.	charlie	15.	swing
4.	my	16.	scally
5.	does	17.	sx
6.	stand	18.	removed
7.	1.4sx	19.	emma
8.	for	20.	s
9.	+	21.	what
10.	stoned	22.	bunton
11.	top	23.	in
12.	out	24.	walkden

The Google searches are funny because they take bits of a page and put them out of context. As an example somebody put stoned +"removed my top" into Google. It's reponse: "... involved - I'd been good all day and only had one glass of wine - but we got stoned at Debbies. ... We then started the physical examination and I removed my top. ... ". But at the moment, what does the sx stand for in 1.4sx reveals:"... I stand where I am, dumbstruck. ... But if it does get pierced at least it will grow a little, apparently ... I got a P-reg 1.4sx Bravo with about 67k miles on the clock ... " has to be my favourite.

Now I'm not someone who generally pays much attention to soaps on TV. Basically my life doesn't have enough free time to keep up with them and my irregular workload means that I can't regularly watch them. But I caught sight of the above article in a newspaper that someone was reading on the bus I got coming home.



If 'Coronation Street', 'Todd', and 'gay kiss' mean nothing to you, then skip to another entry! The sweet young thing above is the afore mentioned Todd. 'Teenager Todd lives with pregnant fiancee Sarah Platt but has fallen for nurse Karl Foster. Viewers will see them romp in bed next week.', reports the Daily Mirror. The start of the story began in October last year when he drunkenly made a pass at his current girlfriend's brother Nick Tilsley, played by the icon that is many a queens wet dream, Adam Rickett.

Aparently he's not being killed off but the exit sometime in the autumn will be 'explosive'. So maybe he's gonna shack up with the gay nurse, get a big smack habit and become a rent boy in Blackpool [apologies to the many Blackpool escorts who don't have smack habits].

"I get a lot more attention from gay men," he said. "Even in the supermarket blokes come up for a chat." Yeah, and I'll bet the topic of conversation ranges from his acting to the size of the cucumber in his basket (with more interest at the basket end).

Despite the fact that the ITC over-ruled 21 complaints about the recent 'gay kiss' scene - didn't see it but it was supposed to be better than the one with Ms. Rickett - I find it a bit strange that CBBC Newsround don't even refer to him being gay. This can only mean one of three things:

• Whiter-than-white BBC has never heard/doesn't understand the term 'gay',


• Being a raging homo on screen is now politically correct and acceptable (well, look at kids TV, I mean...), or


• Social integration dictates that being gay is like having long hair - you don't need to mention it

I'll let you decided on that one.

Coming back from doing training this morning I turned my phone on on the bus. A text came through from Arsehole. The garage had been in contact with him, as they couldn't raise me.

Depression about the whole sorry state of affairs with that fucking car is now setting in - I was really looking forward to getting is back as a nice weekend has been forecast. I'm sick and tired of the unreliability of public transport in this shit hole of a town. I've not been shopping in over a fortnight, so there's fuck all in the house.

Can life get any worse? Will it ever get better?

Gonna ring the garage in a minute and see what can be done.

If I feel 'friendly' I might report about it later on.

Last night was fun. I can only remember bits of it. I met Ben at 8.45 in Prague and he said he'd been there since about 5.30. He was well off his box. We did the pleasantries and I bought him a drink. Another quick kiss and he slipped me a pill. I'd pop to the loo shortly to neck it.

As ever, Ben was his usual sexy self. He was wearing sun glasses and with his blond hair tied back he looked very ravishing. Tight jeans and tight sleeveless black T-shirt. Mmmm. He took the glasses off and I noticed his eye - it looked very pale. 'Is your eye ok?' I enquired. 'Yeah, contact lens.' he responded. It took me a while to get used to it, it did look odd, especially as he was only wearing one - I think he lost the other. Then I popped to the loo to pee and pill.

'You dropped yet?' he asked when I got back. 'Yeah, just now' I responded. 'Good'. I always look at my watch just after dropping, I don't know why. And I know that if you're waiting for the feeling to happen it never does. So we drank, chatted, sat in silence, went to the loo (because we could!!), kissed, etc. Then I came up. I don't usually feel myself coming up, I usually just realise I'm there.

At one point the music stopped. Why do people start talking louder when the music stops? Ben and I were looking around like startled bunnies, wondering what was going on. 'I'm waitin' for the fella with the broom.' I said. 'It can't be that late yet, can it?' Ben responded. Eventually music started again and we were both happy.

Change of venue. Churchills. Jamie and Vinny were there. Jamie spotted me, I went over. He could tell I was up. We had a brief kiss and Jamie gave me those eyes as only Jamie can. Bearing in mind he was cuddled up with a rather rancid little queen. Never mind. I went back to the bar and Ben and Vinny. We chatted a while and then sat down. Ben wasn't so much clingy as affectionate tonight. Jamie came over and said he was going cos he felt like shit (he wasn't pissed). So we finished our drinks and went to Hollywood. Straight up stairs to the piano bar. Ben wanted to see people making a fool of themselves on the karaoke. It was dead. Really dead. When the three of us arrived the audience doubled. Ben sat opposite me - I was gonna sit next to him and should have done really - and asked me if I was gonna sing. I've never sung while up so that will be an experience. I said that I might if I felt up to it, we'd have to see.

The rest becomes a blur. I know I had three pills, was a little sick on the second (I was coming up on the second pill and took poppers. The rush was not good, need to leave some time between the two). I saw Mart's ex James and his new boyf and Big Chris. Fuck knows what I said to them. Big Chris gave me a huge bear hug when he saw me and squashed my nipple piercing. I stood speechless for a few moments. Chris was beginning to panic, so I lifted my t-shirt and showed him.

And that is all I remember. I went back with Ben. James was stoned on the sofa. We had a grope. But he was stoned, I felt drained and Ben, well, went to bed (for a change). So no sex, unfortunately. Better luck next time. Will there be a next time? Like fuck you know there's gonna be a next time!!

Well what a fiasco today has turned out to be! Was working with Steve, my Manager this morning and we decided to go and get Gloria at lunch time, then continue working. That was the plan. I should know better. It's better to get a general game plan together than to plan with military precision - you can guarantee that someone or something is gonna fuck it up.

So we left at 1pm to go to the garage. I was able to show Steve where Gloria died on me near the garage. His reaction: "Fuckin' Hell!!!". I go into reception and Steve decides to wait outside. I can tell that they're busy, but the buy I had been dealing with recognises me and when he is free says that 'He's just gonna get the keys, bring her round, and then we'll sort out the paperwork'.

So I wait. And I wait. And I wait. And I wait...

... About twenty minutes pass before he comes back. 'I'm just getting the engineer to check it over. It died while I was bringing it round.' And off he pops again.

So I wait. And I wait. And I wait. And I wait some more...

... Thirty minutes later he comes back. 'They've put it on the diagnostic, and it's saying its fine. It looks like the clutch being too high is causing the problems.' He toddles off again.

More waiting...

... They decided to reset the ECU thingy to try and tell the car that it is alright and has no problems. They'll bring the keys out in a moment. I decide to pop outside and have a smoke, and tell Steve about the hillarity. I also apologise for the length of time this is taking. He comments that he'd seen them trying to reverse it so that the back was near the garage building. Even with full revs it kept dying.

Steve starts to get concerned about me getting home with the car being in such poor shape. He already knew that the clutch was next to be replaced. I was planning on getting that done closer to home, but it looked likely that it wasn't even going to get me out of Stockport!! Steve suggested that he go to Kwik Fit to see whether they did clutches. The idea being that we'd then continue working and I could collect it tomorrow. He popped off. I went back in, finally got my keys and settled up. I've even got the diagnostic report to say that it is fine.

I wait outside for Steve to come back. Kwik Fit is a no-no. They don't do clutches, but, he spotted a place round the corner that does, and it's all down hill to get there! He gives me the directions and so off we go. Me following Steve.

Gloria dies three times there and I have to pull in. The last pull in was just to the right of Mr Clutch, Stockport. Funny, I was going to take it to the Mr Clutch in the City Centre, but hey, I ain't gonna get there!

I park outside, 'cos I see the ramp and think that if I get it in and they can't do it, they'll be stuck with the car until they do! I go in, and enquire. £178.51 for the clutch including fitting. Much more reasonable than Reg Vardy!! As it's late they can't do it today, but they will get on to it tomorrow.

Steve offers to being the car in. She dies while he tries to move her. 'Christ she's like...', 'driving a tank through concrete.' I complete. He agrees. So Gloria spends another night in a garage.

Must dash. Meeting Ben in a while...

Got a phone call from the garage this afternoon. Gloria will be ready for collection tomorrow, they were just sorting out the paperwork.

However, they've informed me that something is wrong with the clutch - basically it needs replacing pretty soon. The total cost, for the the clutch and thermo sensor would come to over £600!!! I don't think they'll be doing the job, somehow. I know I can get it done much more cheaply.

It will be nice to get Glo back. I've missed her greatly. It's been fun getting around on buses - much more time and opportunity for scoping out talent - but it just takes too damn long.

Can't be long with this. With no Gloria I've got to get the bus to work, and I already know I'm gonna be late as there are things to do before I get there. Just wanted to put in part of a conversation with Ben last night...

Ben: avay, avay; zhou err alvayz avay
Me: just been eating and downstairs
Me: but now i'm back
Ben: why hey there terminator
Me: lol
Ben: spunkinator
Me: wel...
Ben: incubatir....maybe not lol
Me: no, not that one. there's no way i'm big enough
Me: and the mains lead would be really difficult
Ben: wasnt last nite.....
Ben: 240 v
Me: lol
Me: it was good
Ben: aww...only, good. not fucking 'A' dude.....
Me: no, not just good
Me: more like fucking-fantastic-split-me-in-two-ride-me-like-a-bitch
Me: way way way over fuckin 'a'
Ben: oh, you lil' 'ol propagandist you.....but i like you ....
Ben: so.........pill sesh on thur then....
Me: sounds good to me
Ben: koo-------ell....me too
Ben: i reckon i can manage bout 15-20, give james 1 and he's anyones.....
Me: aww
Me: i can't believe you took 22 the other week
Ben: no hunny get it right
Me: what!!!
Ben: 28 plus 1 gram of speed plus bout 40 pints and 15 shorts ....hic
Me: that wasn't one evening?
Ben: no course not...................tWO hehehehehe

So it looks like Thursday could turn into a good day after all...

Right. I'm outtahere!

from Positive Nation http://www.positivenation.co.uk/issue100/treatment/treatmentnews/hnewsnotes.htm

With injectable fusion inhibitor development halted (see story on right), one intriguing idea is to get the body to make its own equivalent of T-20. Scientists have made an artificial gene called C36. When introduced into cells via an infection with a harmless retrovirus it causes the cell to make its own version of a molecule like T-20 that stops HIV getting into the cell. The retrovirus-plus-gene package has passed animal safety studies and plans for human tests are afoot.

Well, I said I'd post a tit-pic. S'pose it makes a change from a dick-pic. Even though it's still a teeny bit sore I still think it's sexy. I ran down stairs just before without my top on and the ball bounced. Mmmmmm. Nice feeling. Ben ran his hand over it last night while he was fucking me. Turns me on something chronic. I want to play with it, but I know I can't. Anyways, the pic:


The picture doesn't really show it, but I've got a small amount of bruising, from the clamp, on the top. It's also pulled it out a significant amount - finally a tit to be noticed! I might just have to get the other one done in a few months...

The funny thing is that my heart is beating very strongly at the minute and due to my 'compact frame' its making the ball of the ring vibrate. So I look down and I can see the whole thing twitching. It's a very erotic feeling, believe me. That's my excuse for the out of focus picture. Well, I can't blame it all on the camera, can I?

I'd already told Arsehole that he could stay over on Sunday night, but I wouldn't be there as I was meeting with Ben and James to swap some software. He was a bit disapointed - like usual, as he's not foremost on my mind - but pretty ok with it. Mart had stayed over on the Saturday night so he decided he'd go back with Mart. We'd all got pretty stoned on the Saturday night and they left me, sometime on Sunday day with a tip for a house. Never mind, it'll get cleared up eventually.

I got a phone call from James earlier in the day to say that it was still ok for me to come over, 'but it's just to swap software' he dropped into the conversation. I was stoned whilst talking to him so didn't really say anything back, plus Mart and Arsehol were in the other room and I just knew that Arsehole would be straining to hear what I was saying. I was a little upset that it didn't look like I was gonna get sex from them but the weed kinda softened that.

It was my aim to get there early evening, about 7pm. As I didn't have the car I had no idea how long it was gonna take to get across town, but I managed to get there just before 7. I didn't want to arrive too late as, a., that would have been rude, and b., James was doing his radio show later on and we would have to prepare for that.

They were having tea when I arrived so I apologised. James told me not to be silly and to sit down. They finished tea, cleared up, we chatted and then James suggested I take a look at his computer and we do the software thing. So I went with James to look at his new computer. Nice machine. There were a couple of things - case wiring - that he wanted me to look at so I had an excuse to come round again, and again, and again...! We had a good talk about shit - as usual - installed some software and then set about copying some disks. While the disks were copying we went back to the living room and Ben.

James proceeded to roll a joint. There was some crap on the TV, it was funny but I couldn't tell you what it was. James and I smoked the joint, I offered it to Ben but he refused as it makes him sick. We were all lightly stoned from the fumes and really getting into the TV. James said something that neither Ben or I caught, but he waved his closed fingers back and forth next to his mouth and mentioned my name. On hearing my name I turned and went 'Whaaa?' Ben was laughing. Then we all started to laugh. James repeated what he said. Ben said something like 'oh, I thought you said about giving him a blow job.' I laughed and said that it wouldn't be the first time! We laughed some more, and Ben started pushing at his crotch. 'Oh, God, I'm starting to get hard on.'

James started to take advantage of this and put his hands into Bens lap and rub his cock through his jeans. 'Stop it,' Ben told him. It was turning me on to see them playing like this. A few moments and James rubbed again. I had to re-arrange myself in my trackies and Ben noticed. 'Ah-haa' he laughed towards me. We all went back to watching the TV.

Ben got up to turn the lights down, sat back down and James started again on him. 'You don't mind do you?' Ben asked mne. 'No', I said, 'it's turning me on, actually'. So James unzipped Ben and began eating away at him. I tried hard not to look, but it was impossible and I began to kneed my own dick in my trackies. Ben offered his hand out to invite me in. I accepted and stood infront of Ben who started to slowly rub me through my trackies and underwear.

As I slid them down he leaned over and put my cock in his mouth. Mmm. I was stood up, so it was awkward but I tried to lean over to grab on to James's dick. I was successful, but this was difficult. They they both worshipped my tool for a while - I've always loved having two mouths on me. I decided it was time to get rid of the clothes so I got rid of my trainers, trackies and jumper and stood naked before them. They followed suit. Then James and I went down on ben together. He was loving it. I kissed up Bens body and snogged him deeply when I got to his mouth. As my cock got towards James's mouth he swallowed it. Boy, can that lad give a blow-job! I already knew he loved oral sex, but I always forget how good he is at it.

I pulled away from kissing Ben, and pulled my dick out of James's mouth. He didn't really want me to, but allowed it. It was time for me to go down on James. They were both on a leather couch, I was kneeling on the floor. As I toyed with James's manhood Ben eased me round so that I was parallel with the couch and proceeded to wank me, lick me and suck me. Then he got off the couch and went behind me. He attempted to suck me from behind but I was so turned on that it was difficult. Ben started lapping at my hole. Ohh, I love that. Call me a tart, call me a slut, but there's one thing I really do like - if it's done properly - and that is for a man to eat my cunt out. I began to moan. He started to finger me gently. I moaned some more. James was turned on by the vibrations on his cock and I could feel it flexing in my mouth.

Ben got back on the couch, I went back down on him and James went down on me. We blew each other for a little while longer then Ben said that he needed fucking. James said that he couldn't as he'd cum as soon as he put it in. I said that I'd give it a go. But I put the condom on, started fingering Ben (he just wanted cock and not fingers) but couldn't get hard enough for penetration. Ben was ok with this, he was actually busy finishing James off with his mouth. James exploded into Ben, got his breath back and then apologised that he had to go and do his show.

So that left Ben and I. Both very horny. It started with us both kneeling on the floor. Ben rubbered up, lubed me up and started to finger me. Our initial attempt at penetration failed - I was too dry inside and it hurt. I turned round and we began to kiss deeply while I wanked him through the condom. He suggested that I kneel on the couch while he tried to get in. It worked and he was soon balls deep in me. I was in heaven. Slow strokes at first just to get me going. I didn't want to touch myself as I knew I would cum if I did and I really wanted to enjoy this. Ben trully is a good fuck, a caring lover. He put his hands on my shoulders at one point and slid them gently down the side of my body. His left hand fingers went over my nipple ring. The pleasure was indescribable. It caused a reflex in my cunt that I knew Ben felt. 'Oh, Ben, ride me like a bitch!' I moaned. This was his cue, and he started slamming into me. I threw my head back and we kissed, Ben still pounding hard into me.

I wanted this to last. Oh, how I wanted this to last. But I wanted to make Ben cum and make him happy. I felt compelled to touch my own cock, stroking it while Ben pummelled my insides. 'I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that', I moaned. 'Then cum.' He replied. 'What, here? Over the couch?', 'Yeah...' Ben cooed without ever missing a beat.

Then I came. It was a huge load and I know I screamed. My contractions set Ben off and I could feel him swell behind me. Sweating and breathless we stayed motionless, Ben still inside me. He withdrew and we went to the bathroom to clean up. I'd exhausted him. We washed and wiped ourselves and kissed. Then went back to the living room to rest, watch TV, and float in the afterglow of a fucking good shag.

Ben tells me sometime later that spunk is a very good cleaner for leather upholstery!!

I eventually calm Arsehole down enough. We go to Stockport, primarily for something to eat but also to take a look around.

I awake to the strains of him screaming down the phone that he 'regrets the day he ever met that cunt'. Wow, what a wake up call? Needless to say, we have an argument. Just what I need when I feel so like shite. I ask him if I 'blanked' last night as I had a severe pain down the right-hand side of my head, my throat was sore and I felt really really off. He says that I did and kicked ten types of shit out of him walking home. Looks like we had an argument last night as well, and he wasn't listening to me.

Between him storming into the bedroom to verbally abuse me in the front bedroom, he was collecting clothes to put in a suitcase in the back bedroom. Yes, he was annoyed. But frankly, I don't think he knew what he was annoyed about and I just didn't care. I might have been bad last night, I might have done things that were inexcuseable, but if he wants to continue being a part of my life he needs to chill out, realise that we're no longer an item and prove that supporting me comes without question.

So how did I apologise? Well, a meal at Burger King (I don't need to be romantic, he's not my boyfriend) and bought him two Kangol tops. For the first time ever, I spend more on a top for myself than on a single item for him. Just goes to show that buying adult sized tops for me can prove expensive. I can't help being dinky. It is one advantage to having my body shape: I can easily buy clothes from the Childrens Section.

Last time I checked, I was gay. Proud of being gay and of my many achievements. So why did this night end up with me doing the usual 'straight' thing and getting pissed and having a fight with my ex? Only what's more, not only did we have a fight, but I blacked out and can't remember quite a bit of what happened.

Eventually we made it out. With the stress I needed a drink. We started in Churchills and met with Kyle and Shayla. Shayla had two blokes on the roll (but apparently made it home with neither of them, ahh!). I was able to show Kyle my nipple this evening. I think he's secretly thinking about it and I know that Mart is. We got to talking about piercings.

We fancied a change of pace and moved from Churchills to downstairs at Via Fossa. Normally I find Via a little too far up its own rectal cavity, but on Thursdays they can play some really good music downstairs. We had two drinks and quite a bop. Then we realised that we were all gonna run out of money if we stayed too long. Also, I wanted Dana Dawson and both Kyle and I were horrified that the DJ didn't have it. 'I don't do thursdays, i'm doing this as a favour' the DJ told Kyle. Definate cause to move. So we went to Hollywood.

Arsehole's at the bar getting the first drinks as Kyle pulls me to the dance floor. It's quite a sexy r'n'b song that Kyle really loves. I try dancing prevocatively with him (as is the nature of the record), but can't for laughing. 'White men can't dance to this type of music'. I laugh at Kyle. He grins and grabs me and continues to grind into my behind.

We go and get Arsehole and bring him nearer to the dancefloor. A bottle of poppers is bought and we really start going for it. Nearly time to hit the dancefloor. It was just like our old Saturday nights out: getting very pissed, having a good dance and generally making complete tits out of ourselves. Then Vinny turns up. I'd not seen Vinny for quite a few weeks and so was my usual flirty self with him. He stands and chats with us for a while and then wants me to go upstairs with him. I don't know what for, but we get up there and he starts chatting with someone. He gives me his mobile to put my number in - he's changed mobiles YET AGAIN!! I need a drink so I tell him that I've got beer going warm downstairs, I'll see him in a bit, and go and meet the others.

I dance again, and then we move on to the dancefloor. Arsehole goes off to the toilet so it's just me an Kyle. We like dancing with each other. He's a complete extrovert when pissed and I can be just as bad. Arsehole comes back and says that 'my presence has been requested upstairs'. I say that yes I will go upstairs, but, after this next record. The next record just happened to be Madonna's Don't Cry For Me Argentina. It was the Spanish version Arsehole and I heard on our first jaunt to Blackpool. I love latin rhythms in music. So it started with the three of us dancing, then Arsehole sat down. Then Kyle picked me up in his arms (cradle style) and spun me round - didn't hit anyone this time. We start getting all manner of looks - probably of the 'what the fuck are they on?' variety, but who cares? - and I start flirting with some of them.

The record ends, so Arsehole and I make apologies to Kyle and say we're going upstairs, but we'll not leave without him. Upstairs we locate Vinny and he reintroduces me to his youngest brother Jeff. Our initial 'hello' kiss was a bit ligering. Ok, it was a mini-snog. I've always thought Jeff was cute but that's as far as it went. Realising what I'd done I apologised to Arsehole. Only fair, I had promised that I wouldn't trap off in front of him.

Time passes and I know I flirt with a friend of a friend of Kyles. To be honest, I'm too pissed to do anything anyway. Plus with Arsehole being with me, staying at mine, and there only being one functional bedroom my options for getting up to anything were like zero.

It's karaoke upstairs and I begin to feel the need to put a song in. I do. Arsehole is stood talking with Vinny, Jeff is talking to a lad in a wheelchair when I join them. Arsehole goes to get a drink for Vinny and Jeff comes over to me. We start snogging and I can feel his hardness in his crotch. I realise that I want him but that I can't have him. So I tell Jeff that it is difficult for me and explain that it's because Arsehole is around - there will be other times for Jeff. Arsehole then flies past me thanking me for a wonderful night (he's being sarcastic). I stand where I am, dumbstruck. He comes back and tries talking at me (never a good move). I retaliate by asking for my house keys as I want to go home.

I make my apologies to Vinny, and ask him to tell Jeff that I'll be in touch. Arsehole and I then leave. And it's from about here that I can't remember anything. I don't even remember how I got home.

The plan for tonight was originally that I was going out with Kyle and that we'd pay a visit to Mcdonalds. But as part of my reconciliation with Arsehole last night I had to give up my usual Thursday night freedom and take him out with me. I'd told Kyle about this earlier while I was in Stockport and he was ok with it, but a little disappointed. No worries, though, he'll get his Big Mac Meal there with me soon.

After I got back from Stockport I explained to Arsehole what the garage had said. We were both knackered so after having something to eat we decided to get a nap in. That would give us an hour or so to get ready before meeting Kyle.

I'd just drifted off - I was downstair, Arsehole was upstairs in bed - when he shouts to me to bring a bucket up. 'It's under the sink in the bathroom' I tell him. He then asks me to bring him up another bucket. 'I've only got the one!!' I go upstairs to see what the fuss is. I have water pouring through my bedroom ceiling.

I move the bucket from where he puts it to somewhere more useful - like near the wall where most of the water is coming through. Water is getting on to the clothes on top of the wardrobe so I move them. I take this opportunity, now I've been disturbed, to figure out what I'm gonna wear tonight. I've got a light brown top by Diesel which looks pretty good and I fancied wearing it. It wasn't in the usual places so I had to dig in the wardrobe. It was then I noticed that my wardrobe was being flooded. So I proceeded to empty it - I found the top, though.

What scared me about this was the amount of water. I really thought the ceiling was gonna come through. I stood in the middle of the bedroom and started to fill up. 'What have I done to deserve this?' I cried. Arsehole came in and tried to console me. Then started the ring-around to try and sort the problem.

And what was it? Daniel, upstairs had put some washing in before he went out with his sister. Something had caught in the door so it wasn't closed properly. So when it filled, it emptied all over his kitchen, his hall, my bedroom and upstairs bathroom. Fortunately, nothing got damaged. But it would be a couple of days before I could sleep in my own bed again.

So, what else could possibly round off today? I have a Charlie Dimmock water feature in my bedroom - one bucket, four towels, a duvet cover and a pillow case (no sticky-back plastic in sight), now all I need is Alan Soapy-Tit-Wank to come and sort my garden out for me.

I had to get Gloria to the garage in Stockport for 9.20. Arsehole said that we could leave about 9 o'clock and should get there ok. I pointed out to him that if she dies then it's not going to be an easy journey and that I'd much rather set out earlier rather than later. We left at 8.30. Arsehole was complaining that we had no cigarettes, so I pulled into a garage on Stockport Road. The entrance was bumpy and I could feel a change in Gloria. 'She'd gonna start dying soon.' His response was to keep the engine reving and she'd be ok.

Cigs bought and we were on our way. She died twice before we got to Stockport. So, I cause chaos on a busy road in rush-hour traffic. Then she seems to get a little better. Then not far from the garage, as I go across a busy t-junction she decides she's gonna die in a big way. This time, no hazard lights. I've got big juggernaughts behind me and on the right of me, and I'm stranded in the middle of a fucking t-junction. I start to panic. I was very scared. I was also still a little wishy-washy after last night. After what seemed like hours she eventually started and I was able to get here metres from the entrance to the garage before she conked out again. Arsehole had to push here onto the forecourt and into a parking space. Fuck does she handle like a tank in concrete without the engine running. So we booked her in and informed them that she'd died a number of times on the way in. They said it would be a couple of hours so we went to Stockport. I needed a coffee. I could have done with a vodka, but I was already stressed and the pubs wouldn't have been open at 9.30.

Arsehole had to got to Bury today to get his wages, so after walking around Stockport for a while he made his way off. He wanted me to come, but I wanted to stay in Stockport it just felt right that I should. Two hours pass and I've not heard anything from the garage - I've got Arsehole's phone as I didn't think to pick mine up!

I decide that I should make a move back to the garage. I'm knackered, feeling like crap and dry as anything. So I get a bottle of water and sit at a bus stop for a while. Oh, that's feels better. This bus stop only serves one bus route and two of them come a long as I wait. You could see the confusion on the faces of the old dears when the bus stopped but I didn't get on. I started walking again.

Just around the corner from the garage I get a phone call. Gloria is ready for collection. I'm about five minutes away.

They recognise me at reception and go in the back to get the keys and paperwork. Apparently, Gloria's problem is with a 'thermo sensor'. It's a small thing, but expensive as they also need to replace a housing when it fails. It's a job that needs to be attended to sooner rather than later and will cost me £260. I enquire about whether she is safe to drive, and am told that yes, but I need to watch the 'coolant' level so she doesn't over heat.

So I write a cheque for the tests and book her in for Thursday. They couldn't do it there and then because they needed a part and with Easter that process would take longer. Story of my life. I go outside to find her. Start her up and ask her to please be a good girl and get me home. I've probably driven about 300 metres from the garage when she dies again. Fortunately, this was not a dramatic as earlier. I wait, then start her up again. A little further and then she conks again. I decide that she's not safe to get me home and plan to go to the garage as see if I can leave her there.

I get to the garage and go back to reception. 'Hi, I've just driven her around the corner and she's dies twice on me. Could I be really cheeky and leave her here as I don't feel safe enough to drive her back to Manchester.' I am assured that this is absolutely no problem. He also tells me that as they've already got the car, if they can do the work sooner they will. Yipee!!

So now I start the trek back home. Arsehole rings up to see where to meet me in Stockport. I tell him that I'm going home and would meet him there. I'm exhaused, but relieved to know that Gloria is in the best hands.

Got a taxi home. God I was pissed. Arsehole was there and moaning cos 'he'd walked an hour and a half to get here and I said I wasn't gonna be back late'. Well, it was his choice, I didn't force him to come over. We had a 'heated discussion' for a while.

Eventually, I calmed him down. I wanted to go to bed but knew I had to bathe my piercing. So, grabbing the base of my t-shirt I said to him. 'anyway, I've got a revelation for you.' 'You've had you're nipple done.' He said, grinning. 'Bastard!! Now you've spoilt it!' I responded. I took my t-shirt off anyway. He thinks it looks quite sexy, even though it was still a little swollen.

So I did the bathing and dried off. We got talking about me getting it done. I didn't tell him Carl's reaction when I took my t-shirt off! Since I've been single I've paid a lot more attention to my own body. I used to hate it as I used to think it was far too scrawny. Now, however, I think it's ok. I'm still not big, but slim and sexy easily describe me.

Bedtime. Well, I got to be up early to take Gloria to the doctors. Tomorrow's gonna be a bitch!

Well. Ended up going out. Surprise surprise!! Met up with Kyle in Churchills and we sat drinking and talking. Kyle was laughing telling me about a guy who was stood at the bar who was someone he used to throw himself at (literally) when he was a teenager. It was the person who introduced him to his foster parents and so he couldn't really respond, but as Kyle pointed out: would you really want a spotty teenager throwing themselves at you?

I told Kyle about my piercing. He started tugging at my t-shirt to take a look, but I told him it was still all wrapped up in gauze and that I'd not looked at it myself yet. He shot me a look as if to say 'bitch, I'm jealous' but it had the glint in his eye that said he didn't really mean it.

Mart finally arrived back from Sharons. Mart's broody. 'Oh, I want a baby.' he said at one point. 'So you really do want to make me feek old, then?' I giggled. 'He's gorgous.' Mart stated, refering to Cane, Sharons baby. 'You have to see him while he still so cute. You'll love him.' Then I stated that it would be at least twenty years before I'd find him attractive. You see we'd joked quite a bit about Sharons sprog being a brown baby, and knowing my fondness for black men.....

'Anyway,' Kyle chipped in, 'we don't need a baby' he said looking at me, 'we already got one!' and pointed at Mart. We all laughed and I put my arms around both of them. I really enjoy going out with my girls. They make me feel good when I'm feeling low and they make me laugh even if I feel that I can't.

Lena (Cross) started to play some really tacky music and we decided that it was probably best to make a move elsewhere. At this point, Marts friend Grace arrived. So we left and went to Thompsons. It was pretty quiet when we arrived. We soon changed that!

After a couple of vodka and cokes the three of us started to get frisky. We were perched at the corner of the bar near the dancefloor. There wasn't much talent to scope in there, so we had to make our own amusement. Two young 'playschool' types materialised down then end of the bar from us. One of them really had no dress sense. Now I know that we occasionally take the piss out of Mart for what he wears but the child does have some dress sense and just does silly things. This however, was a picture. Imagine: horizontally stripped t-shirt in lilac and blue (remember the lighting is dark), blue jeans, thick white plastic belt (bucked at the side???) with straw-blonde hair. The description may sound ok, the reality was vastly different. And his boyf was not much better, although all dressed in black which is something you can't go wrong with.

The DJ started playing a very slow mix of Kylies Locomotion. I'd never heard it before, but it was good. Kyle decided that we should dance to it. So there's me and Kyle up close and personal dancing very slowly (and badly on my part) to the Locomotion. And I think that's when it started: the long lingering looks with fire in the eyes. 'Oi,' I said, 'you're gonna get me horny'. Kyle laughed. Mart had seen it all and was with us. Kyle pointed out to Mart 'You know me an' him gonna be together in ten years, slut!' We laughed and had another group hug. Kyle pointed out earlier that if ever I needed him, he'd be there, even if that meant being a 'false boyfriend' for the evening. These looks don't worry me, hell, I actually quite like them. The fire has burned for a long time it's just getting stronger now.

Next up, two friends of Kyles arrive. Kyle fancies one and Mart fancies the other. One that I've seen before (in the cottage at Longsight, to be specific) decided he was going to take a shine to me. Now bearing in mind that I wasn't planning on being out too late and that I wasn't planning on dancing that much it was a bit of a surprise when Mark (I think that's his name) decided to get me on the dancefloor. Well, we weren't exactly dancing. He picked me up and got my legs around his waist and was bouncing me up and down. He was strong, and you know I like my strong men. This happened a couple of times. Then on one occasion be bounced me all the way over to his boyf who was sat at the bar, there I was bounced on his lap as well. 'We're playing two's-up!!' the boyf said. Mark and I laughed. Had the clothes not been in the way then that probably would have happened. More talk with my girls, then Mark grabbed me again. They went off to the loo in hysterics while me and Mark were cavorting. Then, as usually happens, we fell over: me on my back (shock, no) with Mark between my legs. Mart and Kyle return to see Mark simulating sex with me on the dancefloor.

We made our excuses and left, but not before telling Mark and boyf that we were going over to Hollywood and that it would be good to see them in there. I had one drink in Hollywood and decided that it was time for me to go home. But not before seeing two queens on the dancefloor, one explaining to the other how to dance to Madonna's Vogue. Then Kyle and Mart started doing it properly. They sat down in disgust!!

The alarm went off this morning ag 8.30. I turned it off and went back to sleep. The Mart rang at 10.15, I got up an answered. God, I felt like shite on a shitty stick. Mart revealed details of what happened after I left. He walked home and managed to trap off with an Indian lad who lived on the way from town to Marts. All Mart had on was a thin t-shirt so he was dithering - it was pretty cold last night - and this lad invited him in for a brew and to warm up. Needless to say, Mart got his box filled. It was the first time Mart had been with an Indian and he told him so. Well, not in those exact words. So we arranged to meet in town at 1pm. Mart had to get his wages from work and go up to Bury to cash them.

So we met on the Martket Street Metrolink platform at 1pm. I told Mart that I had to get something to eat and get some money. It was important for us both to have something solid in our systems before getting 'done'. We went to Burger King and got a meal. Sat upstairs, ate and chatted some. Mart had got himself a new phone - looks just like Arseholes!!

We we both a bit nervous about getting pierced. Strange as Mart's was a repeat of last summer and we'd both had a piercing done before so we knew kind of what to expect. As before, we went to InToSkin on Oldham Street in the city centre. The gorgeous Carl was to be our piercer - he'd done my tongue last summer and that had gone OK so I trusted him. Mart thought he was pretty hot as well. So we filled out the consent forms and then Carl squirted the aneasthetic solution into Marts mouth and told him to swish it around but not to swallow or spit it out. I then went into the back with Carl.

He asked if I'd had it done before so I told him that I hadn't. Carl is good because he tells you what he's doing and is really sweet with it all. I took my jacket off, my cap, and my t-shirt. As the t-shirt came off I was facing Carl and he was looking at me. "Oh, wow" he went. I like him even more now!!! He got me to sit sideways on the chair - a bit like a dentists chair - while he marked where he was going to pierce. He held a mirror so I could see to check that it was level. To be honest I couldn't even see the dots. 'It looks level to me' he said, 'well I trust your judgement' I responded. Then it was into the clamp - Mart said I was going to end up in a nipple clamp, but he made it sound kinky. The clamp wasn't painful, just more uncomfortable. While the clamp was in place he squirted some liquid over the area. It was fucking freezing. Carl moaned while he was doing this.

'Ok, I want you to take a big breath and hold it,' Carl said. This was going to be it. 'Now slowly let it out.' as he put the needle with the sheath through. To be honest, I hardly felt it. I'd seen the needle on the side as he was prepping me, but, despite my needlephobia it didn't disturb me in the slightest. I just though it was very big and very thick. He had to use some scissors to trim down the length of the sheath. Then it was 'another big big breath', 'now let it out slowly' while he pulled the sheath out and inserted the ring. The ball was popped in place and I was done. Now I started to feel it!

He put a gauze over it and said to keep that on for about 2 hours as it would probably bleed because I'd been drinking the night before. We talked a little about after care - no swimming in public pools for a month and he'd put after care instructions on a sheet for me. As I was getting dressed he asked me if I felt faint. I was a little shaky but alright. I knew that Mart still had to be done so I'd sit outside and wait for him. I thanked him, and asked him what his name was. He said it was Carl. 'Ah, I thought so,' I replied. He looked kind of shocked, but in a nice way.

Back out in the waiting room Mart was talking to a straight couple. The man was thinking of having his tongue done as well. It seems as though Mart had swallowed most of the anaesthetic. Silly thing. Carl appologised and said that he couldn't give him anymore as he'd had the maximum dose. Mart didn't seem to mind. I think he just wanted it doing. It didn't take long and Mart was saying that it didn't hurt anywhere near as much as last time. It took a few minutes before the lisping started, but he could talk quite normally. He's going up to see his friend Sharon and the new baby (Cane Martin, lovely name). I'm sure his tongue will have swollen by the time he gets back.

Well, it's been about two hours now since my piercing. I have to say it feels ok. The burning and tingling has stopped for the most part. Providing I don't reach too far I'm unaware of it. Though what I can probably feel is the gauze moving my skin. I'll take a pic of it in a few days when the swelling etc has gone down. Funny thing is that the right tit has now decide to hide itself. I think it's scared!!

Oh, may be going out later. Don't know yet, can't be a late night as I have to take Gloria to the dentist garage tomorrow morning. And I've not told Arsehole about it...

You'll have to excuse me. I'm very pissed, and can't type.

Got a phone call this afternoon. All plans have changed. Mart is getting his tongue done on Wednesday as he has the day off, and is getting paid, as he has to work on Thursday. So my presence was demanded for going out tonight.

Well, we ended up in Hollywood, me, Mart, Kyle and Kyle's trade (Andy). Andy is a very nice 'hard man' from Hull who has come down again to meet Kyle. He's actually a bookie and fuckin' loaded. How does he do it.

But anyway, earlier in the night I'd been talking with Mart in Thompsons. I said something like 'but at least on a bad night you end up with a man in your bed, it may be your mother so there's no sex, but at least you get a man'. Marts look and response was one of well ok, but I know you, and sex is not off the agenda. So we giggled a little. We both remembered what I can be like.

Later in Hollywood Mart was dancing all flirty with me, and I danced very flirty with him at one point - including drawing my nails down his back (a bit of a trademark) and also playing with his nips. We also did the 'lets snog and fuck everyone' in the middle of the dancefloor, again, though I could tell that Mart wasn't really into it once we started. Too much alcohol, I think. Kyle looked at us, aghast, from the edge of the dancefloor and shook his head. We both looked at each other and laughed - it worked. Not to worry, Kyle got a snog out of me as well later. Then we found out that Mart's coat had been nicked. Andy was looking after my top, and Kyle and Mart's coats. He says himself, fuck knows how it happened. I offered for Mart to come back to mine. Genuinely, I didn't mean anything by it. After all, a mother has to look after her youngsters. Mart was ok with it.

More dancing happened. Then at one point, in the midst of a dance, Kyle said to me the 'if you weren't my best friend I'd fuck you silly'. He realised what he'd said and was kind of embarassed. I told him that I already knew that, and that when it happens it happens. Not to lessen the moment Kyle and I have always had 'something' there. Maybe I knew it long ago. Indeed, Arsehole once accuse Kyle of having an affair with me, but this was only because we had so much musical history in common, and we'd talk about it until the small hours and he was left out.

Maybe Kyle's revelation was made without thinking - he was very pissed - but I know that many true things are said when the mind is not in full control. Anyway, he had a shag for that night and I didn't go out to cop. It did shock me. I went out for a good night. The revelation will probably colour a lot of things that Kyle says for a while, assuming he remembers. But one thing I do know: Kyle is a very good friend and he stated tonight that after all I've done for him he'll always be there for me. 'Despite my predicament' (Kyle using long words when pissed, hello!!) it's only made our relationship stronger. 'I loved you before, but...'. 'It's a different kind of love, now.' I added as Kyle was struggked for words. Arsehole has always been content with mollycodling me, Kyle has, in someways distanced himself but kept a sense of reality. I don't agree with some of Kyle's motives but I do know when he is expressing genuine emotion. And he did tonight.

As for Mart, well, we went to Company. Despite his claims that 'i won't cop in there', it appears that he did. I reached going-home point and went to the loo, when I came back it seems he'd got a man on the go. I don't mind - all we'd probably have done is sleep in the same bed anyway. But I told him to make sure he rings me tomorrow.

Anyway. Bo boes time. I get my tit done tomorrow... probably...

And, I mentioned before about meeting Ben and James on Saturday. Well, I sowed seeds this afternoon. Either way I'm going round there Sunday or Monday. But if I'm lucky (and we can get rid of arsehole) it might even be sooner.

I love the intenet, you know. All these knowledgable people. All contradicting each other. I'm sure I once said that it was great for research to someone when I first got it. True, for some things it is, once you get past all the bullshit and misinformation.

Anyway, still thinking of the piercing on Thursday. In someways I'm scared shitless. I have a morbid fear of needles - that was part of the reason for the tongue piercing, but it didn't work. It's always funny when I have to have blood taken for my routine smears... But here's a picture of my tit:


Seems as though I may have to shop around to get a piercer to put a ring through it - some might say it's just too small. Well, most of the rest of my body comes in a neat compact package (and we're not talking cock here!!!)

Actually, on the picture it looks bigger than I thought. So maybe this is just my own perceptions of size. But if it does get pierced at least it will grow a little, apparently.

Mart is going to get his tongue re-pierced on Thursday of this week. He had it done before me last summer and kind of persuaded me to get it done. Well, persuaded is probably not quite right. In a drunken conversation he mentioned that I should be the next to get it done and I stated that no one would ever think of me doing it. I thought about it and the fact that no one would have expected it from me did make it seem like a good idea. But that's another story. There's confusion over what happened to Marts piercing: did he swallow the ball when it fell out, or did his ex make him take it out?? We'll probably never know

We got talking about it and arranged that I would go with Mart to get it done. Both of us had it done at the same place last year so that's where we're going. It kind of all started last summer in Blackpool. Kyle had wanted to get his eyebrow done and I said that if he did I'd get my nipple done but we'd all been drinking so the piercer wouldn't touch us. End of chapter. Kyle finally got his eyebrow done - looks ok, actually, though I'm still getting used to it - a few weeks back ready for his birthday last weekend. This brought up my idea about getting my nipple done.

Now I know the HIV can complicate things, I'm aware of that but I should be healthy enough to get it done without problems. My main problem is that I have very small nipples and they don't protrude very much (unless I'm feeling really horned up). Internet reading suggests that because I'm male that won't be an issue and indeed it might help to pull them out a little. Bear in mind that I'm only getting my left one done to start with as this is the shyest of the two! Mart is shocked and Kyle thinks its funny. Haven't told Arsehole as he wont like it but then he'll have to get his done.

Kyle is coming with Mart and I and we're gonna go for a drink later, though we're not sure whether Mart is working in the evening. I got the day off (shhh!!) so I'm alright.

Mart is going to demand that I go out next weekend [this is the plotting bit, pay attention]. This shouldn't have been a problem as Arsehole was supposed to be going away for the weekend with Shayla, but he was told that he had to work, and then a fuck-up with the rota meant he got the weekend off after all. Fucking stupid cunt wanker management at his place. How dare they fuck up my social and sex lives!!! TWATS!!!!

Mart is gonna try and get some Queer Candy for the night as that should make the night less expensive (Arsehole can buy his own beer). Have to make sure I don't come on to Mart in front of Arsehole, or on to Kyle if he comes out with us(yes, that has happened in the past). I get quite flirty, quite clingy, definately sexed-up and more outrageous on Vitamins, so the night could be interesting. Especially if (a) I trap off with an unknown, or (b) I happen to bump into Ben and/or James.

The things as well is that Mart fancies a Sunday lunch at Macdonalds and Kyle quite fancies a Big Mac (or two) as well. And me, well, ask a stupid question! But I need to get away from Arsehole as none of us want him around while we're up to whatevers [insert own terms here]. He'll get all judgemental, posessive and then complain that I'll shag other people but I won't shag him. Life's a bitch, hey, aren't I?

So, I'm looking forward to next weekend. It could be interesting. And it might even get noted here. If I remember enough of it!

Gloria, my pride and joy, is very poorly. Spoke to Mart on the phone today and he stated 'well, there is a bug going around..', I replied that I knew and she'd got it. Mart spoke to Kyle, Kyle spoke with his bf and they both agreed that I never have any luck with cars!

I got a P-reg 1.4sx Bravo with about 67k miles on the clock, bought second hand about a year ago. Love her to pieces but now she's testing my patience.

Last November the injector light started coming on while driving - usually after she'd been over rough roads or pot holes. I'd pull over, shut the engine off and then when I started the light would go away normally. The engine sounds rougher but not too bad. I'd read about using a petrol additive to clear crap out of the engine and this has helped somewhat. She runs a little smoother and the light hasn't come on as often.

Today I took a long trip on the motor way. Fine, no problems. Then I pulled into a small carpark at a local park. I tried to reverse into a parking space on a slight incline. Couple of inches moved, injector light comes on and engine dies. Tried a couple of times and same thing. Almost like stalling when pulling off without enough power (even with my foot nearly to the floor). Then the engine wont start at all. A fella helps push it out and says it sounds flooded (not very good with mechanical things so I believe him!!) Give it a few moments and then she's able to start (going forwards). Not happy, but mobile all the same.

Then I get near to home. Turn left off a main road into a side road and she dies mid way around. Fortunately I'm able to coast up the road a little. Try to restart. She ain't havin it!! Had to wait twenty minutes before I could restart her (and she died again a little further on) to do the rest of the 4 minute journey.

She needs a new exhaust, think the clutch is going and I'm sure the rear shocks want replacing too. Love the car and don't want to get rid, but if she's gonna start playing around like this...

I'd read on the Internet that when the injector light starts coming on that I need to take it to Fiat. That sounds expensive. Ah well, easter might have to be on a shoe string again but I need to get it sorted. I can't live without a car.

I decided, for some bizarre reason, to take a look at my Gaydar profile today. It's something I hardly use anyway - and I could get really into it, honest, it's not like I'm short of good offers for a decent shag from it. The text hadn't been updated since sometime last year so I thought it was due for revision. I still need to sort out some new pictures but that might need to wait a bit - I want to get my head shaved but am waiting for better weather (looks pretty much like rain for the next few weeks).

So anyway, with the findings of the report in the back of my head, I did a search for profiles - with pictures, of course - between the ages of 20 to 35. Thinking about the ones I really liked (and there were some really hotties) they all matched what was said in my survey results. One in particular towards the top end of the age range (32, actually) who I thought was completely stunning and I really fancied a ride with. Shaved head, muscular-, well, defined-body and it sounded like he had a personality - v rare on Gaydar. I looked at the face, there was a straight on picture and I though I saw 'that' look. It didn't stop me from marking the profile as 'hot'. I won't get anywhere with him, I'm not setting any hopes on it. We'll wait and see. Anyway, there's a queue forming and I really don't know who is gonne be the first to slide their way into my tight but willing malebox. I'm not going to name the profile. It doesn't mention his status and I've got very strong opinions on 'disclosure'. I could also be very wrong and don't want to embarass the bloke or myself, especially as he seems so nice and is so very very cute/shaggable.

Speaking of the profile, I mentioned that I'd just discovered being fucked on drugs. In hindsight this might have been a bad idea as I might have opened myself up for some wierdo abuse. Again, let's wait and see...