100 Men I Have Slept With (merged)

Now there's a situation that did *not* turn out the way I had thought it would. As a very general rule, men who kiss you and read their poetry to you are at least a little more sensitive to their partners than that....or was that all just a very skillful act?

All in all, another great read of the sort PD fans have come to expect.

 

SD, I think you just might be right about this one. The dude was TOTALLY skilled at seeming like a sensitive sort. But as soon as he got his rocks off, he couldn't wait to get me out of his Grandmother's house. Also, I bought two Heinekens for him at the bar (and those ain't cheap. LOL), so he was a little bit of a hustler. But damn: He sure had an original way to con unsuspecting folks, huh? I mean, T.S. Eliot, Dylan Thomas, Sylvia Plath, etc. Not exactly rough trade. Plus his own poetry was not all that bad. Way academic (which I don't especially care for), but he knew a thing or two about strict form. BTW, he thought my poems "showed promise." LOL. I wonder whatever became of him? I have never kissed anybody like him before. He really did not seem to have any lips or a tongue. A real cold fish...

Peace,

PD

 

That just doesn't seem to be good business sense. Thinking about the quickest I have been able to get a guy off that wouldnn't be a very profitable use of your time.

 

I have started to see them as character builders.

I haven't quite figured what I have been supposed to learn from some of the ones I have had but I do try to learn from my expereinces, especially the strange but although not bad but not necessarily good either.

Your poet sounds to me not to be fully able to give his feelngs with another person. Perhaps he wasn't able to give himself to his feelings either. At least that are my first thoughts on it.

 

Yes, Snowdancer, I think you are 100% on the money on this one. The cold poet was a brilliant man, and sorta cute too. If you are into the skinny geek type (which I sometimes find totally attractive). However, he was lacking the ability to give as good as he gets. For I feel I gave him something rather genuine, and he gave me nothing in return. His ego was the only thing that mattered to him. Which is a sad thing.

But like you so wisely put it: I learned something important from the wretched experience. Now when I run into eccentric poet/artist types, I always ask them a certain basic question: If I read you one of my poems, then give you the best blow job of your life--do you promise to do the same for me? Believe it or not, this is an excellent way to weed out all the selfish ones. LOL. I have never made the mistake of going home with such a cold fish ever again. Thanks for dropping by. It's always a pleasure to hear your spin on things. Because I tend to agree with most of what you think and say.

Peace,

PD

 

i liked this story 2 pd. i didn't think of it as a sad story: very evocative and authentic (i've been with this kind of man 2: in my uni days one guy woke me up at 3 in the morning, disturbed the whole household, got head, got up, dressed and went home in 3 minutes flat: oh and bludged a line of speed on his way out). some guys i'm q positive r meant 2 do nothing but look good, sit there and be worshipped. i think u r very lucky to have met so many represerntatives of the life's teeming masses, and to write about it with such skill.

 

Thank you. That is so kind of you to say. I still see most of my writing here as being "in the raw" but I hope to dress it up a bit as I get closer to the finish line. LOL. I am happy you enjoy reading my words. That gives me the strength to carry on....

Peace,

PD