Current Music Selection: Robbie Williams--Intensive Care

Current State: Sober (somewhat)

Current Mood: Relaxed

So now that its football season, every Sunday I hang out at the Old Pro. Its this really cool sports

bar in Palo Alto. They have fifteen flat screens, high def of course, that you can see from every seat

in the bar. Insert screaming like a little girl. And the best part, they have an outdoor patio with two flat screens and you can smoke, eat hot wings, drink beer and watch football all day. All this and heaven

to. There just might be a god, and if there is, its okay if he/she hates me for sucking cock. I mean,

football, cigarettes, beer, hot wngs. Yeeeeeaaaaaahhhhh

Over the course of the day, Daniel and I are joined by various friends who come to the bar to watch

me lose my mind. Though they leave after a while, I guess spending the entire day inside with

screaming breeders is to much for them.

Football season is something I take extremely serious. Not only do I wear my lucky 49'ers jersesy every Sunday but I have the cutest matching underwear with the team logo over the crotch. How butch is

that?

Over in the corner of the Old Pro, they have a bull riding machine thingy. But will get back to that later

on.

The day of football had its disappointments. The niners got spacked though they started coming together after the half. Anyway, being the loudest person in the bar and naturally fabulous, I began making

friends with the hot college guys sitting at the next table. When I want to, I can turn off camp and butch it

up with the best of the breeders. As long as they never see my underwear.

I'm sure they figured out I was gay by the hugging and kissing I did to each of my friends as they arrived and as they left. (Even my straight friends much to their chagrin. If thats the only way I can touch

then so be it) But they seemed cool with the chit and chat we were doing all day. I even bought them some

drinkie poos. Okay, they called it beer but whatever.

One of these hot college studs seemed to show me more attention then the others. Like maybe his closet door was opened a crack and he had convinced himself he was "bi" curious. Like they say, its still

experimenting as long as you're in college. After college, you're a big ole' queer. Where was I?

Hot college stud and I were doing a little chit and chat, discussing the niners chances at a winning season, musing over whether ketchup or musturd is the only condiment for a hotdog, which cheerleader was

the hottest. Hey, whatever it takes. He even joined me a few times for a smoke on the patio.

Okay, everytime he went for a smoke I followed. There, I admit it. Are you happy?

After the niners had lost, I was feeling pretty buzzed. And bored. Which is never a good combination for

people such as I. For weeks now, since the Old Pro re-opened, I have been staring at the bull riding machine thingy wanting to try it. But every time Daniel talked me out of it. So to get around the old queen,

I waited until he went into the bathroom and made my move.

By the time Daniel returned from the bathroom, I had already signed the waiver and paid my three

dollars. Much to my happiness, the bull riding machine thingy operator informed him there were no refunds.

And with his tight ass frugile saving money ways, he couldn't in good conscious let me waste three dollars.

So with a smile, i jumped into the padded area and climbed atop this fake bull.

Now the college guys were crowding around the bull riding machine thingy pen and joking around that I

could never stay on. So I offered them a challenge. I threw the gauntlet down as it were, though I had to use my hat i had forgotten my gauntlet in my other underwear.

My challenge came out sort of like this: "If I can stay on this bull riding machine thingy for longer than one minute then hot college stud had to give me his number." I pointed at the one I was smoking with all

afternoon.

Hot college stud immediately countered with, "Make it three minutes and you have a deal."

So the bull riding machine thingy operator asked if I was ready. I waved and raised my hand. Using the

same techniques I would on any other thing I ride, I gripped with my knees and held on tightly to the small handle right between my legs.

I must admit, it was easier than it looked. Yeah, for the first thirty seconds until the bull riding machine

thingy operator turned the knob to eleven (Spinal Tap reference number one) and that damn thing went one way and I went the other and I crushed my own nuts. But I was determined to last for the full three minutes. It would be nice to last for three minutes wouldn't it?

I'd love to say I made it the full three minutes. I'd like to say after I won and the bull riding machine thingy stopped, I ripped off my niners jersey and I showed the bar the shirt I was wearing under my lucky jersey. Which is a pink shirt with big black letters stating this phrase "I Fucked Your Brother" And that hot

college stud picked me up in his arms and we rode off into the sunset. As I read this paragraph back, I really wish I could say that.

But that didn't happen. When that damn thing went one way and I went the other smashing my own nuts with my arm, I fell off and landed on my head. Once my vision cleared, I looked around at everyone laughing at me and my eyes rested on hot college stud. I shrugged my shoulders as if to say, your loss.

After waving at my fans surrounding the pen area, I stumbled back to my table and nursed my bruised ego.

It wasn't long after my bull riding machine thingy adventure that the college guys paid they're tab and left the bar. I watched my hot college stud leave and thought, win some lose some.

Just when Daniel started consoling me, wouldn't you know it, hot college stud came back in the bar and shoved a piece of paper in my hand and said call me sometime. Yes, once again my charm and debonair attidtue worked on the breeders. Woo Hoo.

I guess what I'm trying to say to everyone, sometimes acting like a fool gets you the guy at the end of the day. As long as that guy isn't some crazy homophobe that waits for you outside the bar and kicks the crap out of you. But hey, what the hell. Life isn't living if you live in fear, right. That and I have been known to outrun even the most determined homophobes. Cheers everyone.

Jason R.