Huck to reside in cave.

WTF? Ok. So this entry is dedicated to the apparently obnoxious and horrific vibes I must give off to any male that is between the ages of 22-48. Since when is it so hard to find a hot guy who wants my sweet sweet boy love? Cue flashback.

This all started about 2 weeks ago when Shea and I were on the prowl for a few good men. Or anything easy that looked our way. Just testing our skills as two available, quite attractive(or so I thought)eager beavers lookin' for fun. WELL. Of course we hit the ever so coif 303 for a more sophisticated gay. The kind of gay that fucks you and then leaves you a $20...all the time knowing you aren't a hooker. You're a little ashamed but then realize that $20 just bought you dinner or at least another round of drinks. Only one of those fish bit what SHEA had to offer. Me, all the while, leaning against the large mirror wall trying to fall in love with myself all over again since no one else seemed to understand the multitude of cute in the room. NEXT!

We then find ourselves at the trash can of gay in Kansas City: Missie B's. Oh if those walls could talk, they'd garggle: due to the large amounts of semen caked on them. PERFECT. Just the atmosphere I need to strut and eye some potential love toys to stroke my ego and maybe a few other things. But alas, my dear, talented and apparently God amongst men friend Shea walks from the bar leaving with 4 numbers, a time-share in Malibu, a trust fund and a hard-on. And I, my stead-fast readers, leave with....is there anything less than nothing? The shame. Oh the shame. I firmly start considering a life of celibacy HAHAHA....there's just something about that word that just can't be taken seriously.

BACK TO PRESENT...or a few days ago.

Me and Tom/whore without a cause(jealousy is my fuel), decide to search up a gay bar in the very small college town of Harrisonburg, VA. The Artful Dodger sounded intriguing and insignificant all at the same time. Shea awakes from a 5 hour nap, swollen tooth and grumpy gus attitude. Nonetheless he was willing to humor my adventure and take a gander as well. We arrive at the A.D. to find an actual great looking bar. Inventive style, not too gay but Liberace wouldn't have shied away. Unfortunately crickets were the only thing you could hear after the terrible techno(is it really music?) coming from the speakers. We decide to stay for a drink, feeling the need for some kind of liver damage. LOW AND BEHOLD. An attractive gentleman is eyeing us? from across the room. He decides to look cool and takes a seat at our table. Balls are a good sign. He seems polite and although he knows nothing about theatre whatsoever, we easily make small-talk. I step out for a mo to have a quick smokey treat and what do I find upon my return? SHEA, goddess of easy, giving out his number to this small town Virginian. Shea, the one who didn't even really wanna go out. Shea, the one who wasn't very interested. Shea, the ego stealer from the black lagoon. Now we all know nothing will come of this cellular tryst but I must address the fact that all this cute on my end is going to waste. Am I unapproachable? Is karma out to get me? Is Shea a subconscious cock block? Only time will tell. But for now, I'll be entering any gay establishment in just my underwear. If that doesn't work, it's cave life for Huck.


KC

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