Diplomatic Immunity

Onward into the fog -- italmex sez of himself, "Very successful,single, well-grounded, fit and stable, ex-jock, ex-military masculine man enjoys the company of other fit masculine guys who are into sports, outdoors and simple fun. The pic is recent and accurate. I'm buddhist, which means low stress, never been drunk and never done drugs. These factors, plus genetics, has kept me looking and feeling young. I have no medical, or mental issues I have to deal with at this stage in my life, (or i'm too crazy to know any better!). Nothing is more attractive to me than to see a mature man, over 40, who is in great shape physically and has a strong mental, physical and spiritual foundation."

I'm always interested in conversing with other former service types, so I opened with a customary query --

BigDumbDawg
(01/27 12:08 am)
Which branch of the service were you in?

Deke

italmex
(01/27 08:54 am)
Navy!

Jim

BigDumbDawg
(01/27 01:08 pm)
I am certain that despite that small lapse in good judgment, you are a good man. Where were you stationed?

Spent most of my time at Camp Pendleton with a couple TDY to Stumps (and a week at Lejeune). Swore I'd never return here of my own free will, yet here I am, and the longer I stay, the more it feels like home.

Deke

italmex
(01/27 04:39 pm)

My last duty station was in alameda, but many years ago (mid 70's), i was an enlisted grunt corpman in Camp Pendleton; stationed at camp margarita...had fun..
29 palms is not what i'd call shangrila, but if you're happy there, more power to ya bud..

BigDumbDawg
(01/27 04:48 pm)
Holy shit -- they had you in the fooken sticks at Pen. I was mainside, but would spend the occasional night at Margarita or Horno.

Stumps is indeed a pit. The base, that is, heh heh. Okay, the town isn't much better, but the longer I stay, the more it feels like home. I like having other devildawgs around me; they are my people.

Corpsman? I owe you beer on general principle.

Deke

italmex
(01/27 04:56 pm)
thas right...little respect around here is much appreciated...retired as an "O'...LCDR...surface warfare officer..

BigDumbDawg
(01/27 06:17 pm)
Fook, now I'm conflicted. I'd have to piss in yer coffee for being SWO, but must ply you with beer for being a corpsman. We'll go with the beer.

Exited as GySGT. Have all the warmth of the rank, too, heh heh.

Deke

italmex
(01/27 06:20 pm)
you must be very popular at the tool shed in Palm springs...

BigDumbDawg
(01/27 06:33 pm)
I wouldn't know; I don't go there. Too damn loud, don't care for the crowd.

italmex
(01/27 07:13 pm)
hmm, totally understand...are u poz bud?

BigDumbDawg
(01/27 07:34 pm)
Am I poz? That's a helluva question to ask a stranger. What's your interest?

Deke

italmex
(01/27 07:37 pm)
just curious...are u offended by that? if so, why?

BigDumbDawg
(01/27 07:43 pm)
Bucko, if you are unable to respect a man's boundaries on face value, I do not feel compelled to justify mine. As I said, it's a helluva question to ask a stranger.

My opinion regarding HIV status is in my profile.

italmex
(01/27 07:46 pm)
sounds like you got some issues bro...
maybe your profile shoulda said BigDumbAss..

BigDumbDawg
(01/27 08:49 pm)
Maybe yours shoulda said SWO_Syndrome.

-------------

"I'm a Buddhist, which means low stress, never been drunk and never done drugs." That's gotta be the strangest post-hoc reasoning I've come across. I guess it also means, "I'm a pompous cockbite who recognizes the validity of his own feelings above those of others, which means I'm allowed to ask loaded questions for small talk."

My line on HIV in the profile? "If HIV status is an issue, I'm not you're man; this is not a circuitous way of revealing my sero-status, rather it is a direct way of saying I don't tolerate the petty bullshit associated with twats who demand I be one or the other before they'll acknowledge my humanity or desirability."

When did making boundaries clear come to mean "having issues"?

Hirsutitude, No Extra Charge

Annent the troubling spread of crotch shaving among men:

Popular opinion sez shaving makes yer dick look bigger. It doesn't. It makes your dick look bald. It also makes open, running sores easier to spot.

'Nuff said.

Of course, that doesn't mean I'm above shaving a guy. It's kinda nice to remind a fella who's alpha and who's bravo.

(One time, when I was 19, I had occasion to visit the local STD clinic. Had an enormous, and I mean fooken gigantic pustule on my wang. Naturally, I freaked. After being interviewed by a 400-pound dyke with an east Texas accent, dressed in a Mickey Mouse T-shirt ("Yoo have a shanker on yer pay-nis?"), I was directed to a cubicle with a drawn curtain. The doc on staff came in, took a look, said, "Holy shit, that's the biggest ingrown hair I've ever seen. You can just express it." Whereupon he grabbed my member in his gloved hands, and squeezed the zit -- which promptly spewed the contents of Satan's own gall bladder all over the walls. I was instructed to dress it with triple-antibiotic ointment and discharged.)

The Whiffenpoof Song

I'm going blind. Macular degeneration. Fair eyes, fair skin; it happens, though docs are a little surprised to find it in me. No cure, little treatment. I deal poorly with this.

We're Having Much More Fun

Once again, an example of the glorious psychosis that is online profiles. BTW, for those who don't know, I'm BigDumbDawg; the profile in question is reprinted in the very first -- maybe second -- post of this very blog.

Are we all lit?

militaryrecruit
(01/07 12:22 am)

militaryrecruit sent you a grope.

militaryrecruit
(01/07 12:22 am)

militaryrecruit has unlocked his private photos for you.

BigDumbDawg
(01/07 12:47 am)

Something on yer mind, recruit?

militaryrecruit
(01/07 01:15 am)

Yes Sir............Something is on my mind. Would like to be dominated
by you SIR ?

john

---- Now, a little editorial: a "grope" here is a pre-fabricated message the website maintains; it's meant to encourage contact, but frankly, a man who can't express himself in his own words doesn't impress me.

BigDumbDawg
(01/07 01:42 am)

Fooken fags never bother reading my profile. Educate yourself before
making your move.

militaryrecruit
(01/07 05:02 pm)

BigDumbDawg...........Fuck Face..........I've read your pathetic
attempt at describing yourself and the type of realationship you are
trying to pursue. LoL's !!!

So you are a big, tough, old, alphamale ex marine.

You sound more like a whining, desperate, self loathing, cynical,
jaded, lonely, aging middle aged, aging old lady. Worrying about her
spent youth !!!

You sound more like a FUCK HEAD than a JARHEAD !!! I quess the USMC
doesn't teach their recruit's about interpersonal skills in dealing
with people.

So you think .......That you are the Big Brother Type !!!
........That's really laughable !!!

The truth is that you are an middled 45 year old guy who is scarred to
death that his time to find a partner and a LTR is running out.

As you know 45 years old is almost half a century year old. You are
pre-historic dinosour in the gay world where youth and masculinity and
virility is of prime importance to a potential life partner.

Marine like yourself are know to be arrogant, self centered, non
monogamous, promiscuous and sex pigs. I'm sure are no different.

Have you taked a good look in the mirror lately ????

You are getting older !!!
You are getting wrinkled.
You sexual virilty, arousal, and stamina are slowing down to a crawl

You have no personality
You are bitter
You are judgemental
You are jaded
You are cynical
You are narcissistic
You are self absorbed
You are selfish
You are self serving
You are sarcastic
You are arrogant


These are only a few of the adjectives that describe BIGDUMBDOG

I truth you are a lonely, pathetic, old ex-marine who is aging out and
frightened of spending the rest of his life alone.

DaddyHunt is the end of the line when someone over the hill is making
their last pitch to find sex

Conterary to your lilimited intelligence DaddtHunt is a SEX LINE........

Not a Dating Line

No Romanace
No Flowers
No Long Walks on the Beach
No LTR's
No Prince Charmings
No guys without baggage

Just pure unadulterated RAW SEX !!!

At 25 when you were at your sexual and physical peak .........You were
promiscuous and fucking every guy that walked.

You should have been looking to settle down with MR Right when you
were 25. Unfortunately, you are far too narcissistic and hedonistic
too settle down with one guy.

Your ad says that you are looking for a redhead, with muscles, ink,
former AD, Military, Brains, and a heart younger than yourself.

BigDumbDog........I'm sure you've got a long list of perfect guys
fitting your precise. pre-qualifying, narrowly defined guy banging
down your door ...............

Just waiting to date and serve a Jewish American Princess like you........LOL's

You are so irresistible !!!! .......Huh ???

BigDumbDog.........If you really live in 29 Palms as you say you do............

Then why are you so desperate to advertise for a relationship on a web
site that caters to men at least 45 years old and older ????

Twenty Nine Palms is crawling you young handsome buffed USMC guys
pratically living in your backyard.

If you as hot as you say you are.........Why haven't you met a hot
muscular USMC dude in a gym of bar ????

There is no doubt that you have issues questioning your manliness and
masculinity.

You say you would rather punch a guys face in and blacken his eyes or
split his lips rather than kiss a MAN

Sounds like you are still questioning and fearful of your
homosexuality and sexual orientation.

You sound like a a certain percentage of Marines who are sexually
conflicted and sexually confused about your homosexuality

You are constantly trying to prove to the world the you are
BIG.....BAD ......and BUTCH .........and you think it makes the world
believe that you are straight .......As well as yourself

The fact os that you are the opposite of the smoke and mirror image
you try to project to the world.

You are really fearful of aging
Fearful of being old and alone
Fearful of Rejection of your
HIV + status
Fearful of losing your sexual
virilty and stamina with aging.

PS..............If so many women are chasing you ..........It's
because you are so insecure that you are flirting with them pretending
that you are straight to reinforce your poor self image and shame
about being a HOMO.

Needless to say .......You have probably been a promiscuous whore
throughtout your life that has resulted in your HIV + status.

Apparently you seem to indicate that you have matured and sex is no
longer your primary interest.......

You now want a LTR !!!

Your ad says that you have desirablity and humanity. You sure had me
fooled. I haven't seen it

You need to take a good look in the mirror BIGDUMBDOG

You think you are perfect !!! But your not

We all have baggage ......Dude.........

Going through life produces baggage for all of us.


BigDumbDawg
(01/07 08:44 pm)

The lady doth protest too much.

Reader, I blocked him.

The Mundane World

I could say my shrink made me write this, but what the fook. He's encouraged me to simply write down and spew, get shit off my chest so that it doesn't gather, and in the gathering, gain power. So I'll do my damnedest to simply write this entry. Pretend I'm Jack Kerouac -- had the worst high school crush on him in, well, high school. C'mon, we know what went on between him and Cassaday.

Over the summer, I was involved with a guy. At first, he said he didn't want a long-term relationship (having just gotten out of a three-way LTR, and having an ex-wife made it clear to him, he said, that he didn't want such a thing). Three weeks later, he said he loved me and wanted me to collar him. He had a nickname I gave him inked across his shoulders, on his back. He was the only man I played with during that time; truly the only man I was interested in. He said he wanted a monogamous relationship, that he wanted to be the only man who got my load (in so many words).

We played rough. I whipped him, I pierced him, I shoved my hand deep in his pussy and made him shoot hard. I stuck sounds in his cock, I electrocuted parts of him, I made him bleed and got his blood on my chest and belly, and goddamn did I fook him. I fooked him with my cock and balls full up in him. I fooked him good and goddamn I fooken liked it.

I started noticing certain changes in myself. I'd find myself thinking of him and I'd cuss. I'd hear a song and think of him. I'd see a pair of shorts he gave me and think of him, and goddamn I'd cuss. I'd cuss him, but mostly I cussed me. Because I could feel an attraction to him increasing. I could feel my own feelings for him develop; I am not always comfortable with this.

With me, cussing is always a sign I'm letting my guard down. A buddy of mine once said, "The tenderest hearts have the toughest armor," and fook, there it was, coming down, opening up, piece by piece. And this man kept saying he wanted to be the only man in my life, the only one for me and I was right there with him. I wanted him to be the only one.

I set aside a time to tell him my feelings. I said when I wanted to see him, that I had to get something off my chest. He asked if it was anything bad; I said no, it's all good, that I just need to say some stuff and I want to do it to his face.

I am not always comfortable being a passionate man. I enlisted in the USMC cuz I needed a job; I ended up fighting beside my buddies because I fooken loved them, not for love of country or sense of patriotic duty. I would not stand to let them come to harm, either in the field or in the mundane world. Marines wear our hearts on our sleeves, for all the world to see, although the world usually does not like to see it.

The world prefers its icons to remain iconic.

Early Saturday morning, around 0400, a message came to me via yahoo messsenger. A URL, a newspaper story, in which I had been quoted. A reporter came to the tattoo place when the man was getting my nickname for him inked on his back; wanted to do a story about Marines and tattoos.

I fooken hate reporters. I fooken HATE reporters, probably cuz I've worked in journalism, but more likely because of another part of my history I will not discuss here. Suffice it to say, I know how reporters are: they will write what they will, they will cant the story how they will, no matter how much nuance and subtlety a source may give them. So I had no trouble giving him a fake name, and letting him believe a particular scar on my body was due to a roadside bomb. I told a story to a storyteller. What I happily gave him were insights into why Marines ink their bodies; how Marines are, contrary to the popular myth, very open about why they do what they do, open about their love of their brothers. How Marines are feeling men, passionate men. It may get sloppy -- I'm not denying that -- but it is undeniable.

Suddenly, to this man, this man who wanted to be the only man for me, who wanted to wear my collar, I was a liar. And this reflected poorly on him, for he had little kids, 10-year-olds, who looked up to him in martial arts classes. HE TRUSTED ME!!! he said. And I lied. He did not look at the situation; anything I said in my defense, even as I spoke my piece to him -- online, which I fooken hate doing because it seems cowardly -- did not matter. Nothing mattered to him except the vehemence of his own feelings. He said he no longer wanted to talk to me, ever.

Three days later, I got an email from him, in which he said he did not wish to burn bridges. While any opportunities for a deeper relationship were gone, he wished to be friends. I thanked him for his grace. He wrote back saying I shouldn't thank him, that it was a mutual friend of ours who convinced him to forgive me. And wasn't this mutual friend a "hot little fucker."

Two days after that, he told me he was flying cross-country to meet this other man face to face. One week after that, he wrote to tell me what a great time he had in the sack, what a wonderfully kinky little fucker this little fucker is.

As for me, my heart was broken each time he told me about this new guy. One week, he loved me, wanted to be the only man who got my cock, my load, my intimacy. The next, he was off and away. Had I even existed? He had previously complained of how his own ex put him in the position of being relationship counselor for the third who had entered their relationship; and here I was, being put in the same position. This new man was active-duty military. "My feelings tell me my husband has deployed and I may never see him again," not even three weeks after he had said he loved me, my hand buried up in him, up his ass, feeling his heartbeat with my fingers, my lips pressed against his, grease and mucous dripping on my tattooed arm, my own heart quickly falling after his.

And I'm supposed to be open. How do I get any more open? My feelings are there for all to see; whose fault is it when those who see them do not acknowledge them, do not recognize them?

Emerging

At long last, it's winter. So I'm coming out of my little hiatus. Live in fear.

I've been busying myself reading this book, 'Party Monster'. It purports to be "a fabulous but true story of murder in Clubland". Hoo-boy, one can hardly wait.

Now, I enjoy a good melodramatic and steamy story as much as anyone. But there is a conceit these days with memoir: one must portray oneself as having some flaw in order to make oneself believable. And the author here, James St James, has flaws aplenty, and they're not confined to his writing and story-telling skills.

In short, it's the story of a young man with borderline personality disorder who, in the course of building his reputation and 'power', did a lot of drugs, excused any and all damaging behaviors around him, and killed a man. Very titillating, to be sure. But St James never sees the obvious; he begs us, as we read, to "understand" why his pals made the choices they did. And understanding means 'look at us, we're all fabulous and high on ketamine and heroin and crack and cocaine and we made such a splash, we put downtown New York ON THE MAP and, oh, did I mention we were fabulous?'

The reader is meant to open his heart to these poor drug-addled folk cuz, well, they're drug-addled and they just can't help themselves. They can't see themselves for the messes they are, and this is meant to evoke our pity. But hey, everyone was doing it (and they were fabulous, too).

Never at any time does St James apologize for his behavior. He writes, now and then, that he is ashamed of what he does, but clearly glories in his tales of debauchery. All along, he eschews any sort of judgment, any sort of attempt at real understanding of what he's involved with, just how damaging it is, not just for him but for the community around him. It is a book peopled with those who forgot they ever left high school. Indeed, revenge on his school tormentors seems to be part of the motivation for writing the book: 'Look who's the cool kid now!'

Curiously, this story was made into a movie twice, both times by the same producers. First it was a documentary, then it was a dramatization of St James' book. One wonders why the producers would feel so strongly about presenting the material twice: money? fame? success? glamor? the sheer ability to bring to the screen the same story twice, each within years of each other?

Why would one wish to 'understand' the exploits of a man with borderline personality disorder? There is no understanding to such a thing; it simply is. We've all had the boss from hell, the aggressively needy but somehow charming friend or parent. There's nothing new here, and yet it gets lavished with attention, even when it says it does not wish to call attention to itself.

And this, at long last, is our topic: the oft-quoted line that 'drag is the mask that tells the truth'. I submit it is not. Drag -- typically gay men dressing outlandishly in order to get away with obnoxious behavior they wouldn't ordinarily manifest, but anyone may dress or behave so -- calls attention to oneself, not one's ideas. One *wears* drag; one is *not* drag itself. It is in this way that gay men (okay, fags) and fundamentalist Christians find themselves in common practice: fundies say 'marriage is an institution which must remain unsullied', and fags say, 'drag is the mask that tells the truth', when the flaw both commit is reification. (Oh, look it up.) Essentially, they hold some thing in such esteem that it becomes something more than the thing itself, more than the concept itself. It is on some high pedestal, unreachable by mere mortals, having been put there by god himself.

Ack.

Sure, we'll always have an abundance of intellectual rubbish. But dammit, this shit gets to me sometimes.

Calling Dr Howard, Dr Fein, Dr Howard

dr._bear
Hi Guy, I'm sorry that you don't find men in general to your taste but every one has there own taste. I would like to know about all of your tattoo's what they are and what they mean to you? If I could just say you have a great looking body and I like your hairy body and I like your tattoo's. Thanks and have a great day.
Roger

BigDumbDawg
Yours is the oddest message I've ever received.

dr._bear
Why because I didn't want to jump your bones and because I wanted to know about your tattoo's and that I like your muscles and hairy body why is that odd? My name is Roger what is yours?
Roger

BigDumbDawg
The weird part: that you opened with "I'm sorry that you don't find men in general to your taste but every one has there own taste." It is not my place to tell you what is phenomenally off-putting in that remark, let alone its placement in your message to me. I'm astonished that a 57-year-old man actually believes it possible to make an apology that includes the word 'but'. You want my name? Read my profile.

Just so we're clear on the concept, I inserted a warning in my profiles: if you say something ridiculous, it's likely to end up on my blog. Kinda detracts a little from the creepy Candid Camera-esque fun we like to have, but what the fook. Here, we have a textbook example of how to alienate someone you're interested in.

My favorite part: the apology that isn't an apology. An apology doesn't contain the words "if" or "but". And why the hell would anyone, in the hopes of catching the interest of another, say, "You only have yourself to blame for being disappointed in the caliber of potential mates." Yeah, I'm responsible for guys being jerks.

Ever onward.