Sorry sorry sorry… you can call off the search parties. I have not been kidnapped by a freak cult and subjected to the pains of listening to them rambling on about belly button lint or possibly trying to reproduce more freaks into the world. I have just been a bit busy and haven’t had a chance to write. I wish I could say that I was in the arms of a stud muffin, but alas that is not quite true. Well, that’s for another day and another blog…
Ahhh Mr CD No 2, it seems that there is a whole type of male species out there that are so confused that you have to wonder whether it has become an epidemic. Do I need to arrange for some sort of concert to fundraise for this plight? Help the Confused! Free their minds! Help them figure out what they actually want!
Mr CD No 2 (I am going to call him Mr Number 2 – seems so fitting for this story!) and I met online (where else!) and it started out normal. I did notice that he had a hobby of restoring gothic furniture; and yes some of them were made out of coffins. I should have realised there and then that this was no normal dude. But knowing me, I thought he may be slightly weird but handy with his tools, and what girl doesn’t like a guy who can handle his tools around her place?
Anyhoo… as we started to chat about how our weekend is going – the fun and exciting plans of being the domesticated goddess that cooks, cleans, mows lawns and cleans up after lazy cats and me who lays on the couch eating bon bons, dictating a chapter to my
plebe I mean Assistant ala Barbara Cartland style. He starts to tell me about what he got up to last night.
It started out quite normally, he met some friends for drinks, had a few laughs and then the story went on a different tangent… so different that it had a twist that even I did not see coming. Turns out that he met up with a man and proceeded to get a hand job from him… okay…no judgement here… So I ask “Oh are you Bi?” to which he responds “Oh God no, that is disgusting!” Um what? Have I said the wrong word here? Yeah… like you, I ended up being the Confused one. The convo continued like this:
B: “So let me get this straight… you are not Bi? are you Gay?”
Mr No2: “No… I am not Gay either”
B: “Ok I am confused – you say that you got a hand job from a guy but you are not Bi or Gay and think that it is disgusting. So did you accidently fall into this guy’s hand repeatedly while your pants fell down”
Mr No2: “Well I do like it, but it is not what you think?”
B: “Enlighten me” Meanwhile I am on Google searching for the definition of Gay and Bi, thinking am I so out of touch with the real world that they have changed the definitions and no one told me.
Mr No2: “Well I am quite well hung and I like to see other dude’s dicks – but I am not Gay!”
B: “Right.. so you like dicks but you are not Bi or Gay? I am still confused!”
Mr No2: “Well as I said I am well hung…” I am thinking to myself – what the fuck does that have to do with the price of fish.. am I supposed to think.. shit this dude has a huge wanger, so huge that I should be so impressed that I overlook everything else. Perhaps this huge schlong could be the one thing that eliminates World Hunger, promotes World Peace and gives the meaning of life. Am I missing something here?
B: “So you said…I still don’t understand”
Mr No2: “Well I like to see the looks on guy’s faces when they see my huge dick… it turns me on”
B: “Right, so it’s an ego thing rather than a sexual thing”
Mr No2: “Well I suppose you could say that”
Yep – give the Wanker of the Year Award to this guy!