Jason Rimbaud

Hahaah. Thank you mr Merkin

This is my third day of being off, and I’m not feeling that good right now. I think my liver is mad at me and/or dying. Either way, I’m feeling poopy so I decided to sit down and type out a blog entry. Let me start off by saying, my life is going pretty well for the last few years. And since “N” came into my life back in January, I really have nothing to complain about. I have an amazing boyfriend who I love insanely, a job that doesn’t suck and pays a ridiculous amount of money even before I get my quarterly bonus. And thus far, since January, I’ve hit my bonus every quarter. I bought an amazing condo this year, on a hill overlooking the ocean. And on a clear day, I can just make out some of the taller buildings in downtown San Francisco. And a month ago, I bought a brand new car, my first since 2005. Two months ago, on my way to work at 5:40am, heading northbound on 101 into San Francisco, my car engine blew up and I was stranded on the highway in line number one. I’m not scared to admit that I was pretty scared as cars flew by me doing 70 plus miles an hour. Seeing that tow truck pull up behind me was an amazing feeling let me tell you. But let me again repeat, my life isn’t even remotely bad or stressful. So I can hear you asking, why am I typing this blog entry today? What could have possibly happened in my almost perfect life that would get me off the couch and share something dark and twisted with all of you? Maybe it as because Cole told me that he missed my writing. Or maybe because I feel like things are going a bit too well and I’m waiting for the other boot to drop. And trust me, that is a very real fear of mine, because lately it seems the only thing falling from the sky is fuzzy bunny slippers. Could it be that though “N” is almost a perfect boyfriend, maybe not everything is working out in the bedroom? Is that what you are thinking? Are you really wondering about my sex life with “N”? All the dirty details of naked bodies under the sheets. Because I think that is asking way too much of me and I might stop typing this if you are going to be asking those kind of things. My sex life with “N” is none of your business thank you very much. If I actually would take the time to research this, I’d know the exact date I am referring too but if you are that interested you can look it up yourself. A few days/weeks/months ago, the crazy inhabitants of San Francisco suffered through a record breaking heat wave that rose to 106 on that Saturday. And trust me, the normal weather conditions here have no call for air conditioning. Just stop and think about that for a moment. 106 degrees without any air conditioning in city that is almost always covered in fog and mist. Trust me, I have never had so many complaints ranging from this beer isn’t cold enough to my salad is hot. After a few hours of dealing with bitchy guests due to the heat, I started saying at least your not back in that kitchen, where the temperature was soaring to 110 plus. That shut up most of the guests. During the hottest part of the day, guests would come into our restaurant, feel the heat, and turn around and walk right back out. It was so miserable, and I kept changing shirts as every few hours I would completely sweat through my shirt. Nothing worse than having a person serving you food that is dripping sweat into your hot salad. After it was all said and done, I had changed shirts three times. On a separate note, I did write a thank you note to Old Spice deodorant, cause I still smelled fresh after that blistering day. (I actually don’t wear Old Spice deodorant but I can’t remember the brand I actually do wear and the bathroom is all the way across the house and I don’t want to get up and look) Don’t judge me, I’m hung-over. Have you ever been so miserably hot that you can barely think straight? We all know, the heat does crazy things to our brains and after spending hours trying to calm down all the metaphorically fires that erupted due to the heat, that I was completely spent by the time I crawled inside my car and cranked the air conditioning to full blast. People don’t realize how hard running a restaurant can be. No matter what happens, I have to keep calm and always put the good of the restaurant above anything else. So the amount of abuse I often take from rude guests leaves me somewhat silent when I’m not at work. Being happy and cheery for eight hours a day, that usually by the time I’m finished with work, my give-a-shitter is completely empty. Add all that usual bullshit but compound it by 11, and I was in a pretty foul mood. Those of you that are from our hotter states and who are accustom to those kind of temperature might not sympathize with me, so all I can say to you, fuck off, we all can’t be as tough as you. It was so fucking hot outside, that my poor little car couldn’t keep up with the temperature I was demanding of it that my car started overheating. So for parts of the commute home, I had to turn off the air so my car wouldn’t stop working. So after giving all my kindness at work that day, I didn’t have much left for anyone, much less my boyfriend, by the time I made it back to my house. Now, before you ask, “N” and I have maintained separate apartments, mainly because I’m not happy about the neighborhood he lives in. Seriously, my car has been broken into three times in two months in his place. Plus, his place his pretty small, and as I have mentioned in the past, he is not the cleanest person I have met. And he doesn’t like my place only because I live in Daly city, on a hill, overlooking the ocean, and it’s a bit far for him to commute to work. He doesn’t drive and I’m not that close to our underground, and the nearest bus stop is half mile away, but on the way back, it’s a half mile up a hill, and I can’t blame him for not wanting to walk up that hill after working all day. And before you start yelling at me that I’m a bad boyfriend for not driving him around. We work completely different schedules most of the time and its not that easy. Jeesh, get off my back, I try to pick him up or drop him off at work as much as I can but sometimes I need to get my beauty sleep. So needless to say, we spend most of our time at his place, and he rarely comes to my place unless we both have the day off. My condo has air conditioner, and “N’s” does not. Matter of fact, he only has one window that opens so all of us can imagine how hot his apartment must have been that day. So on that hot day a few days/weeks/months ago, I texted him while I was heading home and informed him in no uncertain terms that I would not be staying at his house like we had originally planned. And again before you yell at me, of course I offered for him to come back to my place and enjoy the cold on that stupidly hot day. Its not my fault he didn’t want to make that journey up that long hill after his shift ended. I even offered to get a lyft for him but he refused. So there. This is the part in this story when I tell you that both of us run highly successful restaurants so our schedules rarely match up and its something of a juggling act to coordinate time together that doesn’t involve us watching the other sleep. I know its weird, but we actually like spending time together in or out of the sheets. But relationships are better when both parties are awake at other times than just sex. And really, stop asking about our sex lives. It doesn’t matter who tops or bottoms. We are in a loving committed relationship and its not your concern. Have I mentioned that “N” is an Indian that was born in Malaysia. He has just a hint of an accent that makes my heart skip a beat each time he talks. And he’s been here for years so he’s pretty much Americanized. Let me set the stage for you, I’m at my house, taken a cold shower, and am now sitting in my living room naked, watching season five of 24. Its been about three hours since I’ve gotten home and im finally starting to feel normal again. So he texts me and demands that I pick him up at work. Now think about this, I get up usually around 4am and leave work around 2pm. He goes to work at 4pm and gets home around midnight. So when he demands that I come get him, it means that I would only get four hours of sleep. And maybe I would have, if it wouldn’t have been Saturday night, and the next morning I would have to deal with Sunday brunch again, another heat wave, and more bitchy guests. So I tell him that I can’t but that I would see him the next day. I was planning on seeing him at work and having dinner. But he gets really mad and starts a barrage of angry texts. I’ve had a few hours up to this point to cool off and get my head back on straight. I know he’s still in the middle of the heat and his mind isn’t in the right frame to have a logical discussion about the merits of sleep or my lack of love for him. And for a while, I keep that fact in my mind and ignore some of the more hurtful things he said/typed to me. You know those kind of comments that only someone who love you can make that send you right around the twist. They know all your faults and fears, and can use them in the most horrible ways when they are mad at you. After more than a few insults, I started firing back with both barrels blazing. And for an hour or so, we go back and forth, calling each other horrible names, brining up old argurments, basically being awful to each other. What got my blood really boiling though, was he said I didn’t love him since I didn’t want to come pick him up and that I was selfish that I wanted to sleep instead of picking him up in my air conditioned car. I throw my phone across the room and storm around my apartment waiting for 11pm. That’s the time when I am going to go to his work and tell him off face to face. There was no way I was going to wait until I see him the next day. And while I’m waiting, I’m rehearsing all the things I want to say to him, I’m not going to hold anything back. I plan on bringing up past things that I let go but never really forgotten about. It’s going to be epic, I’m actually looking forward to yelling at him, maybe because I’m so nice during my day job that I can get out all my aggression on him. Or maybe its because I’m a baby but I’m not going to tell him any of that. Fuck no, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. It’s after 11 and I’m driving like a mad man all the way across San Francisco to his restaurant which has the most lovely view of the Bay Bridge. I arrive right at 11:30 and just wait outside, seething the entire time I’m waiting. About 11:45, he comes out of the restuarnt and locks the front door. After he locks the door, he picks up a bag and looks around until he sees my car across the street. The moment he sees me, he smiles and starts walking to the car unhurriedly. I’m not going to lie, when he smiled at me a bunch of my anger went away. But I wasn’t going to let this go and he had no right to say/type some of those things to me. I opened the car door and stood up, ready to give him a good tongue lashing. The last four steps he runs and jumps into my arms and kisses me until I can’t think straight. After a few minutes, he stops and hands me the bag, saying, “I got you your favorite.” “Why” I’m a bit shocked. “Because I knew you wouldn’t eat dinner because you were mad at me.” Fuck him, though he was right. I hadn’t eaten dinner. “How’d you know I would even be here tonight? This whole thing started because I refused to pick you up tonight.” He looks at me, smiles the biggest brightest smile I’ve even seen and says, “Babe, I know you better than anyone, why do you think I said all those thing to you, I had to make you come here somehow, dumbass.” It was late, around 2am, and we are in his bed, a hot sweaty mess on his bed with one fan blowing around hot stagnant air. He’s snuggled up to me, gently snoring into my shoulder. And I have to been at work in two hours to struggle through another hot day with bitchy guests. Life could not be better and one day, I swear, we are going to be exchanging “I do’s” before our friends. After all, the sex is simply amazing.

Me too, but it was an entirely different type of bird. :P

Love Walked In BY: Jason Rimbaud So tired of waiting Using only my hand I am looking for someone To better understand And all these grindr hook-ups Are like sinking into sand I don't want a dumpster I'm looking for a heart to lend In search of somebody A lover and a friend I feel like loser When will it end In a sudden moment He danced into my life There something in his smile And it was more than all right After hanging out for hours We made love into the night From that moment on We've been more than having fun So many happy nights And glorious days in the sun I don't want to jinx it But to him I'll always run God I'm feeling goofy

I've found I have always loved boy things! :) I've seen similiar habits throughout my life. Gross on so many levels. You've always been so nice to me over the years. Once upon a time, back in my sluttier days, I once went home with this hot guy, which means for me he was tall and lanky and pretty much a nerd with glasses. His apartment wasnt too bad when we entered, didn't smell to awful, though there was a bunch of dirty dishes in the sink. After making out a bit in the kitchen area, we went to his bedroom. It was disgusting, the moment he opened the door I was hit with dirty clothes, probably sweaty gym shorts and the smell of dried cum. Like he had been cumming everyday for a year on his sheets and never washed them. Needless to say, he was completely confused when I just laughed and said i had to go. How can some people live in filth so casually? Anyway Jason

I have the day off, first one in a pretty long time that the Boyfriend is working. Not saying he isn't the cleanest person on the planet, but he's messy as fuck. So I really needed to clean the house while he's not around so he won't distract me by dancing around the house in his undies. Though that does make me feel like fuzzy bunny slippers when he does. So I needed some motivation to clean this filthy house. I searched through my almost one thousand movies and decided on re-watching Season 5 of 24. I made myself some tuna salad, toasted my artisan sweet batard bread, thinly sliced some sharp cheddar cheese, salt and vinagear chips on the side, sat down in my kitchen and switched on Hour number one. Five hours later, the house is not only still dirty, I haven't cleared the dishes from breakfast, so in fact, it is actually dirtier than it was when i started. And to make it even more upsetting, I think I fell in love with Keifer Sutherland's ass. So much for cleaning motivation. Though to be honest, I do have the urge to...err..polish something else entirely, thus making the house dirtier still. Having a great day off. J

Rest In Peace Jerry Lewis. You brought joy to so many and definitely got me through some rough times. No matter how much craziness in my life, pop in one of your movies and I could always forget for a while. Jasn

I don't need any more reasons to never want kids...just work in a restaurant for a week and thats all the ressons you'll ever need. Jason Rimbaud

Believe it or not, the whole reason I did this was to train my assistant to do inventory so I would no longer have too. My BF is not happy with me working so much. The other day he was so frisky and right in the middle of the act I fell asleep. Needless to say I'm still not forgiven for that. Luckily he loves my bald head. J

Very bad Cole...my buns are the perfect shade of workaholic white. I'd show you but I don't want you to become blind j

So waking up at 3am to go to work to complete inventory and payroll before working a ten hour day. Can life get any better I ask you? Seriously...please tell me life can be better.... TELL ME!!!!! Oh darn, I burned the muffins.

Thanks Cole. It's been an interesting past few years for me and while I needed to get my life path moving forward by focusing on my career I always missed the dudes. J

Thanks Cole, it was really strange where this story went/goes. But i'm having a blast though who knows how long it will be before its even close to posting online. Colin, you have know idea where this story goes. But I hope you will like it when I finally get it finished.

Okay, I will not look at it.

I tend to not put myself in the position where I am being chased by bloodhoods. Jason Rimbaud

Um, I did not give my consent for whoever recorded and posted me hunting. Despite what the video suggests, I was not trying to eat that animal, the Antelope actually paid me to train him for the upcoming 2017 animal Olympics. But thanks for the person who recorded that video, my business has dropped off and I am back to hunting those poor antelopes as I don't have any income flowing into my pride. If I find out who took that video, I will be seeing you in animal court. Broke and hungry Cheetah

Am I the only person on this site that is not only happy I was cut but also normally is not turned on by a "natural" peen? I am plenty sensitive and all things in that spot down there works beautifully and amazingly. And now it all makes sense as I do not enjoy or ever eat waffles or Maple syrup. You've heard it here first, those "regular normal" humans who are cut don't like Waffles. :) J

It's been a long time coming but this is what I have started working on. I have several more chapters written and for the first time in a long time I'm writing again. Feels like a comfortable old friend. J

The sun had long set behind the mountains of the town of Glacier Bay. The moon bathed the town in a soft light with a backdrop of twinkling stars in the October sky. The trees gently swayed in the offshore breeze that hinted at the bone chilling weather that was to come but for now, the air was crisp and refreshing. The leaves had changed giving the streets and parks a colorful facelift that brought in visitors from all around. The last influx of outsiders bringing their pocketbooks before the long winter brought snow and ice and all the winter games along with it. Some folks said that winter was gods way of testing the human spirit. Much like the grass and trees, humans tended to go into a hibernation mode throughout the winter. Surviving on the nutrients they had gathered in the spring and summer to get them through the harsh starving months of winter. The world seemed a bit sadder in the winter months, most of the habitants of Glacier Bay walked with their head down, their faces covered by scarves and bundled up in colorful hats, gloves, and bulky winter coats. In the summer, they would wave and shout out to their neighbors, most times stopping for moment to ask about families and goings on. But with the onset of winter, one was lucky to get a polite wave as they rushed by seeking indoors over the blistering cold. On this particular night, Scott Taylor was staring out at the glacier that gave the town its name. The glacier, brightly lit by the moon, reflected across the bay giving off the illusion the water was ice, calm and still. This illusion was ruined every few minutes when a gentle wave would crash into the bottom of the glacier echoing off the mountainside. Scott tucked his long blonde hair behind his ears and looked towards the town he had lived in all his life. Glacier Bay, nestled at the base of a range of mountains that almost saw snow on the peaks all year round. The glacier snaked its way down the mountain until it spilled out in the bay that was protected by a natural seawall. When the town was first settled in the late 1800’s, the townsfolk had carved a deep channel for boats to enter the bay safely in the natural wall. This was once upon time to protect the fishing vessels that were moored at the docks during the winter months. Nowadays there was not much commercial fishing anymore. All the boats moored at the dock were built more for pleasure and unused for most of the year except when their rich owners could get away from the city for a few short weeks and enjoy all the town had to offer. Many local boys like Scott, made really good money taking care of the boats for their absentee owners throughout the year as well as maintaining the carefully manicured lawns and removing the snow from their vacation homes throughout the year. It always amazed Scott how much someone was willing to pay to keep a house they would visit once or twice a year. It seemed like a waste of money that could be better spent in other ways. But Scott was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As he peered across the bay, he eyes drifted to the lighthouse. There was no need for a lighthouse since the 1950’s and it had long been turned into a tourist destination with daily tours during the summer months. A small gift shop in the base of the lighthouse offered those who had the need to buy souvenirs and keepsakes to remember their trip to Glacier Bay. It had been closed for weeks now, abandoned until the spring. Too many things in Glacier Bay seemed to be dormant for his liking. Scott glanced at his watch and wondered again what was keeping his friend. His eyes drifted back to the high school. Thirty minute ago the lights had all but been turned off, signaling the end of the play and the participants headed home for the night. Even if there was traffic leaving the parking lot, his friend should have arrived twenty minutes ago. He pulled his coat around him tighter, it wasn’t that cold yet. But sitting still on a bench for almost an hour had caused a chill to sink into his bones. For the hundredth time, he checked his phone to see if there were any texts. Since he had arrived, his sister had texted him three times about the ending of the play, his mom wanted to know what he was doing Saturday night and if he was free for dinner. And a few more from random friends, but there was nothing from Jake. Silent; much like the last week had been. The old saying was true; you almost never miss what you have until it is no longer there. And after a week of silence from his closest friend, he found that he missed him terribly. Scott reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. It was definitely a habit he was trying to quit but the craving was always worse when he was bored. He hadn’t so much taken his first drag when he heard footsteps on the gravel walkway below. Jake must have ridden his bike, otherwise he would have seen the headlights of his car as he drove around the lake. Though the moon was bright and the sky was clear, he couldn’t make out the face of the figure as it approached him. But he would have known that shape anywhere. He had seen that shape for eighteen years. He peered intently as the boy walked towards him. Once he was close enough to see, Scott could see his face was drawn, his eyes intent as he looked at the ground. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his breath steamed in the night with every exhale. He had ridden his bike. Jacob Rainer, his next door neighbor for most of his life. The one person that knew every secret, every prank, everything he had ever done in his life. They were together when Scott got the bright idea to jump off the roof with sheets tied around their necks; they were also together when Scott convinced his friend that crossing the bay in old man Thomas’s row boat was a good idea at 2am in the middle of winter. From the time they could walk, they had been inseparable. The two boys, both eighteen and heading into their final year of school, could not have been more different. Neither in looks nor in personality. Jake was average size, short cropped brown hair, and always seemed to ponder each decision carefully before acting. He was well liked by his peers and received mostly A’ and B’s in all of his classes. Being the middle child, at home he would disappear as his younger sister seemed to garnish all the attention and his older brother couldn’t keep from arguing with his parents about everything. Everyone who knew him would testify that out of all the kids, he was going to be the one that made it and made it in a big way. Scott took another drag from his cigarette and waited for his friend to sit down next to him on the bench. But that did not stop him from looking at his friend with an expectant look on his face. Jake moved his hand in front of his face, trying to avoid the cigarette smoke that lingered around Scott’s head like a halo. “I really wish you’d quit those.” Scott shrugged, “Everyone needs a bad habit.” Jake settled back into the bench, and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Nice night. Won’t be long until winter arrives though. I can smell the snow in the air.” Scott threw the cigarette on the ground and stamped it out with his foot. “It is almost November. Hell, Halloween is just around the corner.” Jake looked at his friend sideways. “What are you going as this year?” Scott turned his head and looked at his friend, “Are we really doing this? Small talk, like you haven’t said a word to me in a week, and you want to know what I’m dressing for Halloween.” Jake ignored the outburst, something he did often. “I’m going as a father,” he said quietly. Scott’s eyes widened at the declaration. “Well shit.” Jake stared at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with Scott. Instead he dug his toe around in the dirt. “Remember the fall dance at the club back in August.” Scott couldn’t help but chuckle as he remembered that night. That was the night he dumped two bottles of whiskey in the punch, one hour before he puked on Mrs. Turners shoes. As much trouble as he received for ruining her shoes, it would have been worse if they would have known he was the culprit that spiked the punch. “What about it?” “Christine and I…” “Christine?” Scott interrupted. “Blankenship.” “Remember, Becky and I got into that fight. She was mad at you for spiking the punch,” Jake explained. “Becky went home with Julie and Christine was pretty drunk, so I offered to give her a ride.” “Yeah you did,” Scott said, laughing. Jake stood up, and spat out angrily, “This is why I can’t talk to you sometimes. Not everything is a joke.” Scott stared up at his friend for a moment. Then he said in a quiet tone, “You’re serious.” “I’m gonna be a father Scott. And I’m scared shitless.” Jake stated before turning around to face the glacier. “Wait a minute,” Scott said, shaking his head. “You slept with Christine the night of the dance and didn’t tell me?” Jake glared at his friend. “Not everything is about you. And no, I didn’t.” Scott pulled out another cigarette. “Okay, lets start at the beginning.” Jake rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Christine was hammered that night. I would never take advantage of someone like that. But she was all over me, and managed to kiss me before I kicked her out of the car.” Jake sat back down next to his friend and grabbed the cigarette and took a long drag before exhaling the smoke upwards. “That’s how you do it. Not in your friends face.” “Rodger,” Scott said with a grin. “Continue.” “Becky and I were having problems. She was so worried about what would happen at the end of the year when we go off to college. It was so frustrating, I mean, why couldn’t we just be happy now, and worry about next year, next year.” Jake stated with a sigh. “A few days later, Christine showed up at work, being all flirty. Wondering if I wanted to get coffee after I was finished. It was nice, hanging out with her, just being in the moment, not worried about college, and how many kids we needed to have, where we were going to live, you know. Just two people enjoying each other.” Jake stopped for a moment and eyeing the cigarette before taking it again. “So we hung out off and on for the next few weeks. And I swear, nothing happened. We were just talking.” “When did Becky find out?” Scott asked as he lit up another cigarette. Jake took a another drag, looked at the cigarette in his fingers, and threw it on the ground. He stated with a frown, “You sure seem to smoke a lot nowadays.” “What can I say, I’m an addict.” “Three weeks ago, Becky saw us at the coffee shop, she went crazy. She wouldn’t let me explain, she started accusing me of cheating on her with her best friend, calling us all sorts of names. It was in the middle of the coffee shop. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it.” Scott shrugged. “I’ve been busy.” “That was the night it happened. Right over there,” Jake gestured at the end of the walkway. He grabbed the cigarette again and took a long drag. “Look Jake, I don’t mind if you smoke my cigarettes but you have to stop putting them out after one drag, their expensive,” Scott said with a frown. “Are you sure she’s pregnant?” “She was pretty sure after a week because she missed her period. Three tests later, and I’m gonna be a father,” Jake sighed. “At eighteen, just like my father.” “That’s heavy,” Scott stated with a grimace. “And the really messed up thing,” Jake said quietly. “I don’t love her. I love Becky.” “Does she know?” Jake shook his head. “No one knows. Just Christine, me, and now you. Not even her parents.” “No wonder you’ve been avoiding me all week,” Scott said, his eyes wide in disbelief. Jake stared off into the distance as he said, “I told her. That I didn’t love her and that I wanted to be with Becky.” “How did she take that?” “She just starting crying,” Jake said, rubbing his hands through his hair. “I can’t seem to do anything right lately.” “There is one thing you did perfectly,” Scott blurted out. Jake stared at him flatly. “Don’t be an ass.” “I’m just saying maybe you should’ve tried for that ass and you wouldn’t be in this situation.” Jake couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not a pervert like you.” Scott laughed. “I’m not a pervert anymore; it’s legal now in almost all fifty states. We can get married and everything.” Jake shoved his friend playfully. “What you do I wouldn’t call it legal in any state.” “They have all been consensual,” Scott said, pausing before adding with a grin, “except that one time but we won’t talk about him. He deserved what he got anyway.” “Gross,” Jake stated dryly. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” “Is she going to keep it?” Scott asked carefully. “I’m not sure. I didn’t know how to bring that up. Fuck, I already told her I don’t want to be with her, I didn’t think asking about abortion was appropriate.” Jake admitted. “I’m such an asshole aren’t I.” “Best thing to do is talk to your dad.” Scott offered. “He’s going to kill me,” Jake said with a frown. “He always told me not to do what he did.” “Look on the bright side,” Scott stated as he stood up. “You didn’t, you’re not going to marry the girl you knocked up.” “Oh, you are so dead,” Jake snorted and started chasing his friend who had starting running towards his truck parked in the lot down the path. “You could never catch me slowpoke,” Scott called out over his shoulder before really turning on the speed. His long legs made running seem effortlessly, and he had been running his entire life. On his best day, Jake couldn’t keep up with him unless he slowed to a jog and this time was no different. By the time Jake caught up to him, he was leaning against his truck and the motor was already warming up. He did notice that Jake’s bike was already in the bed of his blue pick-up. Riding out to the glacier in the middle of the night might be fun but no one wanted to make the long ride back. Jake half-jogged the last ten yards, his chest heaving as he took large gasps of air. He held his side and winced. “I don’t know how you run that fast and still smoke that many cigarettes.” “Genetics,” Scott said with a smile. He smoothed down his long blonde hair and jumped in the truck. “Get in before you fall over.” “I was built for short bursts,” Jake explained as he climbed inside the 4X4 truck with a grunt. “I’m much better on the wrestling floor.” Scott turned on the heat full blast as he spoke, “And yet, oddly enough, I turned out to be the gay one.” “That is true. I’ve probably had my face in more boy crotches than you have. If I’m not gay by now, I’ll never be,” Jake said proudly. “You are one of the few on the wrestling team that could honestly say that,” Scott said, moving his eyebrows up and down suggestively. “Those are my teammates, I don’t want to hear about what they might do with you behind closed doors,” Jake complained half-heartedly. Scott laughed, loud and deep. “Remember that time we went to that away game in Hillersville, now that was a wrestler that knew which end of a boy was what.” For the rest of the ride back to town, Scott told one outlandish tale after another about his many conquests and crazy exploits. Like most boys do of a certain age, there was a large amount of exaggeration and all out lies. Jake knew that Scott was far from being a virgin, and he did have a more active sex life than most boys in the school ever dared dream. Most times he just hoped that most of Scott’s stories were fanciful tales designed to get a rise out of his listeners. Scott was well known around the school at having the weirdest sense of humor. No matter what the circumstance, he could always be counted on to say the most offensive thing at any given time. It was something that Jake actually respected him for. It took a very confident person to say whatever and not care what everyone else thought. Scott truly marched to a different drum than anyone else. He was never sure which boy was the good influence on the other. All he knew, Scott was someone he could count on to always be there. No matter what. For his part, Scott was at a complete loss of words. He couldn’t even begin to understand what his friend was going through. So he did the only thing he could do, try to take Jake’s mind off his problem, even if it was only for twenty minutes on the ride home. Jake was almost smiling by the time the blue truck pulled up to 803 Campus Circle at 11:53pm. Scott put the truck in park and stared ahead. “Talk to your dad.” “I’d rather talk to your dad,” Jake stated with a grin. Scott laughed again. “He’d be so happy to talk about sex with girls with someone. You’d make his day.” “How’s he been the last few weeks?” Jake asked, looking at his friend intently. “He’s getting use to it,” Scott said with a shrug. “Mom said it was okay for me to come to dinner tomorrow night. So that’s a good thing.” Jake reached over and put his hand on Scott’s arm. “Look Scott, I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately. It’s not because…you’re gay. I don’t care about that. And truthfully, I kind of always suspected.” “Really?” Scott asked. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “Why didn’t you tell me?” Jake countered. Scott turned his head for a moment and looked out the drivers window. “I guess I was scared.” “Of what?” Scott turned to face his friend. “I think I knew that you wouldn’t care, deep down. But I didn’t want to lose you. You are one of the most important things in my life. And I was scared to take a chance that you wouldn’t accept me. Or worse.” “Or worse?” Jake asked. “Like, if you thought I was hitting on you on those times we would wrestle around. Or the showers, or sleeping together,” Scott said honestly. Jake made a face and said quickly, “That’s gross.” Scott’s eyes widened as Jake continued thoughtfully, “One of the reasons I always thought you were gay was when we wrestled and you’d get a boner.” “I so did not,” Scott denied laughing. Jake laughed, for the first time that night, a deep belly laugh. “Exactly my point. You are more like my brother than my own brother.” Scott stated through his laughter, “Truth.” “I didn’t know what to say about this Christine thing, I was avoiding you because it’s got my head all twisted,” Jake admitted. “But I realized that you might think it was because you came out. And it’s not. Honest.” Scott sighed. “Thank you. I will admit I was wondering if that was it. It was weird not being able to talk to you about this stuff.” “Hey, you can always talk to me, I might not understand it all, but I’ll listen,” Jake said with a small grin. “Thanks. And you’re not worried what everyone will say at school about you,” Scott asked. He had already heard some of the things that have been said. For the time being, nothing had been said to his face but he figured it was just a matter of time. Jake laughed again. “Scott, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I wasn’t the only one that suspected.” Scott was truly stunned. “Really.” “Becky and even Julie told me that years ago. Mike mentioned it in passing,” Jake said through his laughter. “I think everyone knew and probably no one really cares.” “Well shit, I could’ve saved all that stress,” Scott said thoughtfully. “If only my father would’ve suspected.” “He’ll come around,” Jake said confidently. “He just always wanted a grandson.” “Well, maybe he can adopt Christine’s baby,” Scott snorted out, not being able to stop himself. “You really are an asshole,” Jake said, shaking his head. “Really, a big asshole.” “You could come over and visit him, bring him presents,” Scott said more enthusiastically, gesturing wildly. “Take naps with me in my bed.” “Just keep laughing,” Jake warned, but the corner of his mouth was curling up in a grin. “Though, you are a great napping partner. You like to cuddle.” “One time,” Scott admonished. “Best nap I ever had,” Jake said laughing. “That’s when you’re father should’ve suspected. When he walked in on us that day, you had even drooled a bit on my shoulder.” “You’re laughing now,” Scott replied. “But Mom asked me if you were my boyfriend.” Jake stopped laughing and asked, “Seriously? What did you say?” Scott put his hands behind his head and said, “I told her it wasn’t my place to out other people and if she wanted to know she should ask you.” Jake smacked him right in the stomach, hard. Scott made a sound, and grabbed his stomach, though he didn’t stop laughing. “It doesn’t help that you stopped coming around these last few weeks. No telling what they are thinking.” “Well, I can bet they aren’t thinking I got some girl pregnant,” Jake said wistfully. “No, can’t say that they are,” Scott agreed. “Anything you need, just ask.” “Thanks. But it’s time for me to go inside,” Jake stated as he stared at his darkened house, a lone porch light shining a light on the walkway. “I’ll see you.” Jake opened the door and headed towards the front of the house. Scott stared at him until he disappeared inside and the door closed. Scott checked his phone and read a text that brought a grin to his face. He replied, “I’m on my way.” He started up his truck and headed across town whistling. He had wanted to tell Jake about the reason he came out but didn’t think it was the right time. Not when Jake was worried about being a father to a girl he didn’t want to be with. Not to mention that when Becky found out she would probably break up with him. No seventeen year old girl wants to be a girlfriend of an eighteen year old that is having a baby with her best friend. But that was for a later time to worry about. For now, he was going to see the reason he came out. And for now, that was all that mattered.

Well, I'm thinking I should be able to have more time now. My new promotion has offered me quite a bit spare time and I've been writing again. I had forgotten how exciting it is to sit down and see the words start filling up the screen. I think I'm far away from completing anything but I'm moving forward four or five days a week now. I'm really enjoying it. I'll do my best to come on here more. I really miss being conected to my writing and this site. J

This reminds me of a time I had some muddled bedroom romps...oh the days when things stayed hard and could recharge at a rate that makes me sleepy nowadays just to think about it. Love the world play Cole... J

For some reason this reminds me of the passing of Leonard Cohen a few weeks ago. It brings back fond memories of my youth when we use to sit/stand around in parking lots late at night blasting music from our car stereos and enjoying just being alive. I like this Desilu. J

Usually I am pretty silent on speaking my views outside the safety of my Blog, where I can speak with my tongue firmly pressed against my cheek. But I can't help myself now as I watch what has been happening the last few weeks and the things that are starting to trickle down from Trumps camp and the overwhelming racism that has reared its ugly head again. Speaking as a gay male, now more than ever we need to stand up and let out voices be heard. Now is not the time to run away, move to another country, or pretend that just because those of us that live on the two coasts will be relatively unaffected the next four years. And don't be too quick to judge our fellow countrymen who voted for Trump. Remember in the middle of the country, they have not bounced back as well as we have. They have no jobs, no future, and nothing in the present but anger at the DNC for ignoring them and the RNC who has blocked every measure the President tried to pass on infrastructure to create new jobs. It wasn't too long ago that we, the gay community was standing up and giving the world a big fuck you as we fought for our equality. And though I didn't vote for President Elect Donald Trump, he is our President and we need to make sure he doesn't forget about us. We are here, we are Americans, and we are going to be so fucking loud he won't be able to pretend that we don't matter. And like Isoroku Yamamoto stated at the conclusion of the attack on Pearl Harbor, "I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve". Trump supporters were angry and they allowed their voice to be heard, for good or for ill. We need to let our voice be heard. Mr. Trump you are our president too, and you have to listen to what the will of the people dictate. Lets just be louder than those others. My two cents.

I’m back...and this blog entry is sponsored by “wingtip shoes” and candy apple cigarettes. I could look this up but I’m a bit too much on the lazy side to figure out how long it’s been since I last posted a blog entry. But I’m sure it’s so long ago that even my one loyal reader has given up on checking my outdated blog and has disappeared into the ether. Unfortunately I am regulated to posting to those that have no idea who I am or realize the sheer boredom the next few minutes will bring them as they read this blog entry called Bottom(less) Tales in Vegas 2016. So let me be the first to apologize to all of you for wasting your time. But I am a gentleman so just to avoid all the confusion, let me tell you who I use to be a long time ago, twenty-pounds smaller, and a few thousand hair follicles ago. I was a rather prolific poet, blogger, and part-time storyteller known as Jason Rimbaud. That was a long time ago when I was still messed up on pills, alcohol and a straight boy named Mark. Do you remember now? Just in case you were wondering, I have put all three of those things firmly in my rear-view view. And if I were to be honest, the main reason I stopped blogging all those years ago , I really didn’t have much drama in my life and what little drama I had was a bit on the boring side to share with my loyal reader. Trust me, no one wants to read anything remotely about me getting up to work, working all day, going home and sleeping only to rise and repeat. That should be the title of my life, Rise and Repeat (trademark pending). Literally nothing was going on in my life. Okay, so judging from the title of this blog post, I’m sure a few of you are expecting something interesting happened to me one blistering hot day in Las Vegas. I met a boy. Not really a boy, more like an amazing wonderful guy that from here on out, I will call “G” to preserve his identity. “G” is an Indian, his family comes from Goa but he was born here in San Francisco. Lets go back to the beginning, a perfect place to start for this fuzzy bunny slippers kind of a tale. I am currently sitting at the Luxor Casino in the quaint little dessert town of Nevada known as “Sin City”. This town is aptly named because I definitely found some sin in that city. Well, two sins to be precise. It has been just over a year since I broke up with “G”. Matter of fact, almost in the exact spot I was when I first realized that we were no longer an “us”. Have you ever been in a relationship and one day you wake up and realize that what you think was perfect was actually flawed and nowhere near the vicinity of perfect? “G” and I were together for well over two years and I must say, it was the most adult relationship I have had to date. It’s been long enough that I can look back and see it for what it was…perfect for me and just average for him. Before you go and think we had epic battles and tears were shed and bodily fluids were shared with other partners, you would be wrong. In the weeks before the break-up, we went about our daily lives in a comfortable routine. A routine that I guess worked for me but left him wanting something else. I don’t believe there was another boy that took him away. I believed he came to the same conclusion I did on that fateful day in Vegas, but he came to that much sooner than I. I went to Vegas in March, last year, after a long stretch of long hours and missed days off. I had been texting him off and on all day, sharing with him my wins and my losses, when I started getting the sinking feeling that something was extremely wrong Have you had the moment via text, when you can feel the mood shift? That’s what I felt from him that day. I could almost feel he was just replying back to me because we were together and not because he really was enjoying talking to me. We always had the most fun together, we enjoyed each other and spent most of our time laughing and joking and referencing all the inside jokes we had developed. Our texts were playful and flirty and were seldom one word replies. But that day, the replies were coming slower and slower and the words became fewer and fewer. I remember vividly sitting there at the slot machine, staring at the screen and then down to my phone, and the sudden clarity moment when I knew we were over. Matter of fact, six days later, we would be over and my life would be forever changed. I’ll be honest, mainly because he will never read this and partly because I have always been honest in these blog posts, I was lucky to have him in my life for as long as I did. “G” is a great guy and though I believe I am over him, I still think about him often and wonder how he’s doing. I am currently, as I type this, sitting at the Luxor Casino in a bar called Aura trying to get my head around the events that happened just a few minutes ago. I’m exhausted, and not in I need to pass out for twelve hours kind of way, but more like a contented exhaustion. I awoke this morning and decided I needed to clear my head and work out the memories that have been haunting me for a year. While it had been a year since “G” and I broke up, I had yet to throw my ass into the dating world. I might have been a bit too glib earlier when I acted like it was a mutual thing. It was the saddest break-up of my life. And that hurt, for a long time, and I was devastated. I couldn’t even as much look at another penis without a crippling feeling of loss. Don’t get me wrong, I joined Jacked and Grindr but no one I met even came close to “G” nor did I really feel like getting someone else fluids anywhere near me. But that was then, and this is very much right now. This morning I woke up and felt a horniness that I haven’t felt in a long time. So intense was this mental erection, I jumped on a plane and headed to my favorite vacation destination. And I did it right. I flew first class, I booked a two bedroom suite that came with a hot tub in front of the window so I could look out on the Vegas strip while soaking naked. So here I was, freshly mended heart, looking out across the dessert in one of the greatest cities in the world and I needed human contact. It was so overwhelming, I knew it was an itch only a guy could feel. What was a boy to do? Damn right! I opened Grindr. Twenty minutes later I’m sitting at the very bar I’m sitting now, chatting up this guy from Wisconsin. One drink after that, we were back in my room. He was a bit younger than me, late thirties, tall and rail thin. His name was Adam. A fitting name I thought as I was about to be partaking of the forbidden fruit for the first time in a year. I believe Adam was married and only played with men on his business outing. But he was horned up and for some reason, I was the reason. He kissed like a straight man. So like a true reformed slut, I put a condom on his peen and sat down. When I first met “G”, he was in a tragic relationship with a guy I really believe broke his heart. So much so, I don’t think there was ever a chance for us to work. He was coming off a relationship he thought was going to last forever, there was a ring and everything. Moving into my little world of craziness, he never really had the time to heal from that. I’m not the most emotional guy in the world and with just a hint of clarity in my pretty bald head, we were probably doomed from the start. But fuck me did I try, more than I ever tried before. At least I know when I do meet the right guy, I will have no trouble diving head first and doubling down. Adam had a great body, smooth and a perfect sized penis. You know the kind I mean, not so big that you can’t fit it in anywhere but not so small that makes you looked down and go “no thanks”. Looking out over the Vegas strip, pressed up against the window, I realized that was something I had been missing for a long time. As I gazed out at the twinkling lights of Mandalay Bay, I actually let out a sigh. I won’t describe the sex I had with “G”, that is for me and I won’t cheapen the memory by sharing it with you. But he was little, and I’m not talking about his down there parts, that was as close to perfect as you could get, but it had been a while since I was with someone that could really manhandle me around. I was so horned up and ready for Adam to stop kissing me, I didn’t even use lube, I just pushed back and took the pain. One, two, three, maybe five thrusts and he collapses against my back, shaking. As we kind of stood there, his weird breath on my back, silent for a moment before I said, “That was disappointing.” Think about it, it had been over a year since I had any action and fifteen seconds into it, right when it just started to feel amazing, he finishes with a grunt. I’m not sure what he was expecting nor the look that must have crossed his face when I said that. All I know is I felt him tense up, and he pushed off me and started walking over to his clothes. The condom dropped to the floor and without a word, he got dressed and left the room. I was still standing by the window, still excited and wondering what the fuck just happened and what the fuck was I going to do now. I could have taken it in hand as it were, but now I was like a man possessed. When you’ve gone a year without sex, fifteen seconds is nowhere near long enough to come close to satisfying me. No hand job in a poorly lit movie theatre, no wink wink nudge nudge, not even boom goes the dynamite. I needed dick, and for longer than fifteen seconds. I stood there kind of confused, all my blood still pooling far away from my bald head, when I heard that magic sound every Grindr user recognizes. I opened the APP, and the first thing I see is a bare stomach, two brown nipples winking at me, no face but that wasn’t what sent my stomach doing back flips. “G” was probably the first guy I ever took without a condom. And I can remember that first time we did it, like we were connected in ways that all homophobes will never understand. I don’t want to get too graphic, but fuck me, it’s an amazing feeling. Remember, it has been a year since I bottomed for anyone. An entire year, needless to say, it was a really tight fit. So maybe I can’t blame Adam for shooting so quick…maybe! So I open Grindr, and under ethnicity, I see Native American, Navaho to be precise. He was hot, 6 foot tall, runner build, amazing smile and let’s not even mention the glasses, because fuck I do like my men in glasses. What was a guy to do? I had never been with a Native American, the excitement was there, and that need to be fulfilled was still there, pounding in my brain. I told him my room number and promptly jumped into the shower to wash off Adam’s stink. After all it has been only ten minutes since Adam was all up in my business. I really hoped that Sonni, yes his name is Sonni, couldn’t tell that I just had someone else ten minutes earlier, but I really didn’t care. I was definitely seeing red at this point. Sonni was completely opposite of Adam. He was shy, so much so I also wondered how much experience he had with guys. That fear was quickly put to rest at the expert way he handled certain parts of my anatomy. But I am getting ahead of myself. While Sonni and I were chatting by the window, he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to have sex, he was a bit more interested in oral pleasure at first. But luckily for me, he took one look at my willingness and threw those plans out of the window. We made out for a while, doing a little bit of this and some dirty that, and I get another condom and in no time I am ready to go. He was bigger than Adam, one of the biggest I have been with on that end of things. But I was up for the challenge and slowly sat down. One, two, three, eight and wammo, his toes curl and he lets out a whimper and I’m back right where I started. Horned up and still not properly topped. The first time “G” topped me, the same thing happened. It was over long before it really began and after these two guys tonight, I am starting to believe I just might have a magic ass. Which might be quite difficult to accomplish at forty-one years old? But I am sitting here in this bar, a bit sore back there, but content that I was still attractive enough that two different guys in a matter of an hour, shot off because of the sensations I caused them. And for those of you that say that isn’t me as much as it has to do with them, don’t rain on my parade. I needed a confidence booster. The real difference between Adam and Sonni, Sonni isn’t leaving until Friday, that’s three days away. Who knows, maybe I can get him in my bed again for round one and half. I think I would take “G” back if he would offer. I still love him. But I also know that we grew apart in ways that neither of us can recover the distance. And just because my track record is being the king of looking back and diving headfirst into past boyfriends and all that tangled shit over and over again doesn’t mean I have to wash rinse and repeat. I miss “G” in certain moments, the fun we had, the times we shared, and all the moments that we created as an “us”. But then, for the first time in years, I was with two different guys in a matter of an hour. And yes I understand what that might make me, but after a year I think I deserved a bit of safe fun. Me and my magic ass deserve it. I’ve been in town seven hours and I already used up all my towels. What will the maid think of me when she cleans my room tomorrow? As usual, I’ve rambled on for too long to disclose the remainder of my Bottom(less) Tales in Vegas or the time when Sonni came to San Francisco and we spent nine amazing hours in bed for his birthday. But those tales are for another time and some other when.