g.b.d.

Two of my favorite boys, Jack and Greg, posted last night, so I supposed I oughta. The three of us used to have a thing, you know, back in the day. And by back in the day I mean last year when we all started this craziness. And by craziness I mean blogging.

Our relationships have changed. Oh, Jack and I still enjoy the usual jibes from, and dalliances with, one another, but he's older now and he just doesn't need my particular brand of mommy-cum-fuckme anymore. That's ok, PHF has quit travelling and I get a lot more of the real thing.

Greg; well, he and I share a special bond, which includes long discussions of our boring days and lengthy bouts of internet shopping. We're like an old married couple: comfortable. I used to wonder what it would be like if we met--how exciting, how nerve-racking. Now I think we'd hug, sit close to each other, buy each other beers, compare tans, and discuss the latest fashions at Urban Outfitters and laugh at the people around us. Pretty much just like our IM convos.

Boys abounded at Target today. The guy who handled my returns was quite gay, but cute. Muscled and tight and young. Another young one was applying for a job. He's a future rock star, with Michael Hutchins hair and blue eyes you could see from the back of a concert hall. Handsome Mountain Man came down to stock up for the Big Snow. Rugged, slight creases around his eyes, dirty jeans, and a beautiful smile. Think Marlboro Man, only not taking himself so seriously. The hot Coke delivery guy, on what he likely hopes is a temporary gig, gave me a once over. I always appreciate that sort of attention, especially on bad hair days (BHD).

But then there's The Boy. The one who is my complete package. The boy who tolerates me all day and lets me lay on him all night. I saw him this morning, and bonus! I get to see him tonight.

It was a good boy day.