Fried Catfish

Three things have made me reconsider my decision to quit this fucking blog.

1) JADED referred to JACK in her post today. And I kinda wondered how the hell she was going to refer to me if I killed off JACK. And I'm too big a part of her life to just be ousted. So I can't oust me, can I?

2) A recent blog follower explained that his bouts with accepting his sexuality are prevalent right now - he's a young man and in that confused/how will society accept me/does god really want this, etc. phase of a young gay man's life and he said that he appreciates my blog and I wonder if there are other people out there who actually appreciate my blog ...

3) I had further dealings with this mother fucker and I'm sitting here stewing about my own stupidity. And really, why miss an opportunity to showcase my own stupidity.

The short version: we made plans to hook up tonight and he's communicated erratically with me all day. At 9:30 pm he tells me that his momma is hangin gout at his place and that she's just about to leave. Then *dead air*

Seriously - no WONDER it's going on 2 months since I've gotten laid. And even THEN it was some nigga I had to tap out - I didn't even bother to make sure he finished; he so wasn't worth the energy to just lay there.

I aim low - I've got a propensity to reach way down into the bottom of society's barrel - I manage to select fuckers who swim down near the bottom of the sea ... there're plenty of fish in the sea, yes - but it appears I'm attracted to catfish.

And dirty rice.

(Damn, I so want me some [andouille] sausage right now)