Normally I wouldn’t mind and swoon about for a couple of days thinking about him until something else catches my eye like a blue car for example. And I would totally forget about him and just hope that he would contact me when he got back. But the problem is that he’s been in constant contact while travelling around the world which has raised my expectations to a phenomenal height. And this can only be a bad thing.
I absolutely hate dating. I hate the not knowing if the other person is interested and reading into everything that’s said and done. It’s hard enough when you’re face to face and seeing each other regularly, but when it’s all text messaging it’s all about working out the context.
I’ve been trying to work out why I’m a bit nervous about the whole thing. I should be happy and content. The timeline has been pretty simple. I met a guy. We went on two dates. And he’s been in constant contact since he’s been away. So what the fuck is my problem, and just writing this now I’m asking myself that same question. But there is something on my mind and it’s quite silly, but it’s been niggling away at me.
The problem is that the text messages have turned quite sexual, so sexual in fact that it could see me unable to walk for a week (which is good, it’s been a looooong time). I just have this thing about when the conversation turn all sexual because it usually ends pretty quickly afterwards. The guy has his fix, hopefully he has his fix again and then he moves on. Leaving me in a pool of sweat wondering where he’s gone.
I can hear you all saying, there’s not much point worrying about things you have no control over. But when you really like someone it really hurts when they’ve shown a real interest only to piss off as fast as they came onto the scene.
Howdy Diary, hope you’re well. Sorry, I shouldn’t write with my hands full so please excuse me for a minute while I polish off this box of BBQ Shapes. Ok done! Sorry about that, for some reason I’ve been so hungry today that nothing’s past my mouth without being sucked in.
Now where was I? I think last time I wrote in you I said I was going to write about boys in the next entry, so let’s get into it.
Boys: I’m not sure why or how, but for the majority of the year I had no interest in meeting guys, romantically or for sexual purposes. I was totally motivated with my running and work. Well ok not work, but I was definitely pre-occupied with running. I even went gay camping with about 20 other guys and still even then I had no thoughts of jumping into someone sleeping bag and pitching their tent.
However the urge to meet a guy soon became strong so I began the search. I hadn’t been out of the game for that long, eight months (yes eight months) at best, but in that time the dating/hookup game had changed. I mean, who the fuck knew finding a root in this city was so hard.
I thought I was on a roll, within a couple of weeks I had meet four guys. Each different, each hot in their own way, and as it turns out each flawed beyond belief. The first guy made contact with me. His profile read quite well, we had a lot in common, sport, music etc. And not to mention he was hot, with muscles that begged to be hung on to. We chatted for about a week, probing each other with questions. We soon started chatting via Webcam and I found it odd that he wore next to nothing. I just thought it was him showing off the muscles, but when he started to dodge the question about where he lived I soon became suspicious. While at the footy was I chatting to a friend about Mr Muscles and told her about all the Tank tops he wore. It was the end of Winter, so wearing Tank tops wasn’t really the right attire. Then she said “You better make sure he lives in Victoria”. As it turned out, Mr Muscles and I chatted that night and he told me where he lived. Although it was technically still in the State it might as well not of been. Although I love the Murray River, Mildura was just a little too far away for a hook up. We’re not in contact.
Then came guy number two. Guy number two didn’t have the muscles of the first, but he was really nice and quite cute. We started chatting and thankfully he told me on the first or second chat that he was moving back to Adelaide. We still kept chatting and got on really well. We met up for a drink and then two nights later I headed over to his house to stay the night. Unfortunately we got on to well. We got on that well that he couldn’t have sex with me. He said that he found it hard to mix sex and friendship and said that with me it couldn’t just be about sex. I found it sweet but at the same time it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I so desperately wanted him. Sitting next to all night was excruciating, I did everything in my power from not jumping him. It was hard, in more ways than one. In the end I didn’t even get a kiss. We’re still in contact.
The next guy owned a dog. A big dog. A scary dog that never once said hello. The dog thought he was to cool for school and had no reason to be. It was big and dopey. They say dogs are like their owners, so you can see where that date went. We’re still in contact. (God knows why)
That brings me to guy number four. After the “success” of the previous guys, I wasn’t really in the mood to muck around. By now I wanted sex, just sex, nothing else, absolutely nothing but sex. Thankfully that’s all this guy wanted. He had all the right qualities for good sex. He was bloody hot, well educated (a Doctor) and knew how to talk dirty. So dirty in fact that he loved phone sex. I’m not a fan of phone sex, I like to touch and feel my way around a body, but I was willing to do it for him. So I pretended to get off, while he actually did get off. Then one Mild Sunday afternoon, he came over. And boy was he mighty fine in person. We pretty much got to business. He was a great kisser. We kissed while we removed each other’s clothes. We kissed as we stumbled into the bedroom. We kissed while exploring each other’s bodies, just like we had spoken about on the phone. Then without warning he virtually stopped. He wanted me to continue but it’s a little off putting when the other person isn’t really into it. In the end we just laid on the bed chatting. Although it was nice, it wasn’t what I wanted. It turned out to be like his dick, full of expectations but delivered absolutely nothing. We’re not in contact.
G’day Diary, it’s been a long time since I’ve written in you, in fact it’s been over a year, so it’s a little hard to know where to start. I guess I’ll start off with a quick synopsis on the last six months.
Work: Work has been going well, in fact it’s still plain sailing really. In most work places it’s best if you’re on top of your work, but not in mine. During the midst of Winter I found it hard to get motivated with all the shitty weather. So I slacked off and fell a bit behind, well so I thought. The boss didn’t say anything so I stayed lazy. I went to 13 sessions at the Melbourne International Film Festival, caught up with friends and even trained for Half Marathon’s all during work hours. (Well most of the films were after work hours, but a lot were during) So about a month ago I decided to pull my finger out and do some work. And what a big mistake that was. For a week I worked my butt off and put in the hours. Well when I say hours I mean actually do a full days work, ie 9 to 5, instead of 10 till 3. As a result of my hard work ethic I had nothing to do for the following week. The boss didn’t know what to do and just sent me out driving around all day making notes of when the new estates would potentially be ready. He never asked for my notes, which is good because I never did it lol. I just stayed at home watching DVDs.
Running: Well during the last year I’ve gotten into running like no ones business. In fact I’ve gotten into that much that I now prefer to go running early in the mornings instead of getting on the piss at nights. I know it’s a weird concept but it’s true. Take last weekend for instance. I had a cocktail party to go to but I just couldn’t get into it. The cocktails were flowing, and then the beer. It was a perfect situation to be in to get shit faced, but I just couldn’t get in to it because I wanted to go running the next morning. At the start of the year I completed my first half marathon which was a huge milestone for me since I could barely run 10kms two years ago without walking and looking around for an oxygen tank. In three weeks I have another one which I’m really looking forward to and I hope I smash my previous time to pieces.
Boys: Well this subject is quite lengthy and is going to have to wait for my next entry. So until next time Diary, Ciao for now.
How cool is this. It's taken early two years, and a lot of hours of research, but I've finally made it. I've finally made it into the porn industry baby!!
Now someone out there thinks that the content on this blog is "objectionable". Well if they think that naked drunk boys is "objectionable" just wait until they see the posts I've got lined up!! Mmmmmhahahahahahahaha
Enjoy the weekend everybody.... oh and the boys will be back on Monday ;-)
High above the planet of Zondor, the imperial fleet were orbiting the Dearth Star IV. Inside one of the ships, He-Man, Orko and Battle Cat were looking for Teela who was in the clutches of the Vagina of Death.
Teela: “Heeeeeee-Maaan, Heeeeeeeelp.”
He-Man: “Can you hear that Orko? It sounds like Teela, quick this way.”
He-Man sets off down one of the corridors in the direction of where the screams were coming from. They run down a narrow hallway and come up against a thick metal door.
He-Man: “Ah fuck it, it’s locked. Orko, quick go over to the controls and open it.”
Orko: “What? Who do you think I am, bloody R2D2 or something?”
He-Man: “Oh for fuck sakes!”
Sick of Orko’s stupidity, He-Man picks up Orko by his hat and throws him into the control panel smashing it into thousands of pieces. The door begins to open slowly but stops about a metre above the ground. He picks up Orko and throws him under the door. Cringer then follows, and He-Man goes in last.
Teela: “He-Man is that you?”
He-Man : “Yes, where are you?”
Teela: “I’m down here, quick I can’t hold on for much longer.”
He-Man looks down into the Vagina of Death. He grabs Teela by the wrist and lifts her up onto the platform.
He-Man: “Are you ok?”
Teela: “Yes I’m fine, I do smell a bit fishy from being down there for that long, but I’ll be fine. But that’s not important, we need to get out of here.
He-Man: “I agree. Ok Orko, we need you to concentrate and get us out of here. If you don’t you’ll be going down there.” He looks down into the Vagina of Death.
Still feeling quite dizzy, Orko gets up and starts to cast the Stomping Tree spell that produced the Wormhole which got them into this situation in the first place.
Teela: “Nothing’s happening, great we’re going to be stuck here for ever.”
He-Man: “Well Orko, you know what this means. It means I’m going to have to kill you.”
He-Man walks towards Orko with his hands in the choking position. Orko moves backwards until he’s at the edge of the Vagina of Death. He looks down into the hole and to his delights see’s the wormhole.
Orko: “Wait.. wait! The wormhole. It’s down there!”
They all stand at the edge of the Vagina of Death and peer in.
Teela: “Ok everybody, on the count of three, we’ll all jump in. Oh, and just remember, cover your nose!”
Everyone held hands and on the count of three they all jumped into the Vagina of Death falling towards the wormhole. On the otherside of the wormhole the four of them fall from the ceiling of Greyskull where The Sorceress was waiting to greet them.
The Sorceress: “Heeeeeelooooooo:”
To be continued.........
Previously on Time of your Life Episode VI
John and Henry just stood there looking at each other not knowing what to do. If anything they were both very embarrassed. John felt like he should say something. “Ahhhh ahh hello, ummmmmm how are you?”
“Bonsoir John, here, let me help you up.”
“What were you doing on the floor, did you slip?” enquired Henry inquisitively.
“Well, ahhh that’s a good question. I dropped some money!” John replied with raised eyebrows, he eyed off Henry to see if he had bought it.
“You were spying on me weren’t you?” Henry asked with a slight smile on his face.
“Yes, I mean no… no I wasn’t spying on you, well I didn’t know it was you. Trust me I don’t normally purve on people having sex in public toilets, honestly I don’t!!” stated John who by now was red raw in the face.
“That’s ok I don’t normally have sex in public toilets”
“So I guess we’re both purverts.”
“Ha, speak for yourself. I wasn’t the one looking through the toilet door!!”
John sensed that he had offended Henry with his pervert comment and quickly tried to resolve the issue. “Can I buy you a beer, oh that’s unless you’re with that other guy.”
“No I’m not with that other guy and yes I would love a beer, but on one condition!”
“Yes what’s that?” asked John a little nervous.
“You wash your hands first!” stated Henry smiling.
“I’ll meet you at the bar” said Henry making his way to the door. “Don’t be too long!”
John stood in front of the washroom mirror totally embarrassed from what just took place. He really wanted to see Henry again but not like this, he wanted it to be a little more special, maybe a little more on the romantic side. John quickly washed his hands and turned to face the dryer, as he did so the door to the toilet swung open collected John in the side of the head. He hit the floor with a thud, he was out cold.
Now for Episode VII
Henry sat at the bar with a huge smile on this face. The pub was packed, and the music was blearing from the band who were playing at the back on the joint, but Henry didn’t notice any of it. He was lost in thought, just rerunning what just happened in the toilets over and over again, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He wasn’t sure if it was the coke he just scored off his last trick or the fact he bumped into John, either way he was on a massive high.
Henry was from the village of La Ciotat, a small and picturesque village in the south of France. Situated between Marseille and Toulon, the village swelled during the summer months with tourists and holiday makers. In La Ciotat, Henry worked in a cafe called Cap Canaille Cafe, which Henry never really understood, because Cap Canaille, a magnificent cliff jutting out from the coastline, was actually about 20kms down the road in Cassis. Henry had once asked the owner, Madame Roche why she had called it that. She stated that it was where she had met her first love. A young Spanish Fisherman who went by the name of Rico. Although lovely, but absolutely ugly and quite insane, Henry was mortified when Madame Roche went into extraordinary detail about their brief love affair. Although possible, Henry didn’t believe the story and thought it was more likely that Madame Roche had called the cafe after the cliff because she had wanted to jump off it.
It had almost been 15 minutes since Henry had left the bathroom and still no sign of John. Hmmmmm, he’s either a very clean boy washing his hands or he’s fled thought Henry. He turned his stool around to face the bathroom and watched the comings and goings. Each time the door swung open, he sat at the edge of his seat hoping it was him. On closer inspection of the doorway he noticed that there were a few people gathering around the entrance peering in. He watched wondering what was going on, and hoped that it wasn’t John putting on some kind of show in there. Then, with quite some force, the door swung open and a guy, dressed in jeans, a light blue t-shirt and a very fetching jacket, came racing over to the bar. “Vous appelle une ambulance s'il vous plait!!!” yelled the guy, “Maintenant... maintenant!”
An ambulance thought Henry, what the hell is going on in there? He got up from the stool and made his way over to the bathroom door. The crowd hanging around had grown even more, so he could only peer over people’s heads. He asked the person next to him if they knew what was going on, and found out some guy had passed out in there and wasn’t waking up. Within minutes the Paramedic’s had arrived and were escorted into the bathroom. As the door swung open Henry stood on his tippy toes trying to look in, but it was no use.
It had felt like hours since the Paramedic’s had entered the toilets, and there was still no sign of John. “mouvement, move back” said the guy who had first ran over to the bar to notify the bartender exiting the bathroom. All Henry could do was stand there as the Paramedic’s wheeled the trolley past the onlookers. The bar was now completely quiet, apart from a drunk few who were completely oblivious to what was happening. As the trolley rolled past Henry, his heart sank as he looked at the face of the guy laying on it. It was of course John.
You thought that there would be no more drunken straight boys.
You thought that you would have to remove your favourite link to porn, hot boys,nudity and of course Vivian.
Well think again.... coming soon to a blog near you (this one!!) D.U.P will be back for another season of D.U.P; pants still down.
Until then...... it's time for another episode of Drunk, Bored, Horny boys all with cameras.
I guess the reason why I haven’t brought myself to end Downunderpants sooner, is because this Blog has meant so much to me. It sounds silly, I mean it’s just a blog, but to be honest I’m not sure where I would be without having started it. Downunderpants has been my outlet, my place in the world where I could let it all hang out. It’s been my place to laugh and cry. My place to rant and rave and just be plain silly, but most of all, it’s been a place where I could just be me.
I remember quite clearly how it all started. And at the time I had no idea what I wanted to say or do with it, all I knew was that I had an overwhelming urge to connect. To connect with people who I thought I would never meet, and have no interaction with other than written text. Well so I thought.
As the months went on, and as it all unravelled, it turned out that I would get to meet some of these people. Some would turn out to be people who I would occasionally see out at certain venues. These people would, and continue to make the night fun and exciting. Others would become close friends, friends not only here in Melbourne, but also in other cities. And one would become a close and trusted friend, in fact, he became a best friend. Something that grew out of a drunken night out, on my part, and turned into something organic and easy. And then there were the people who just stopped by to read.
And it is you all now that I now reluctantly say goodbye to. Although it’s not really a final goodbye, I’ll still be around, reading Blogs and lurking in the background. So thank you for making the last two years fun and enjoyable, and thank you for helping me connect. But most of all, thank you for stopping by.
Playing to a packed house, the Comedy Theatre proved to be the perfect setting for the musical. With only a long black box, a six piece band and some blinking party lights for the set, the cast created a fast moving and thoroughly entertaining show.
With so many songs, all show stoppers, it’s hard to pick out a favourite. There’s Ruler of the Land, The Mateship, The John Hewson Rap and so many others. But my favourite was the Alexander Downer drag song, He’s a Freak. If only I had an isle seat so I could slap his arse. Oh well, next time maybe.
Yep I have a serious porn problem. You know when you bump into someone you haven’t seen in years, and can’t recall where you know them from. Well normally you would rack your brain trying to think where you know them from. Well not me, well, not me anymore.
Last night while exiting the supermarket I ran into a friend who was with another guy who I faintly recognised. Then I remembered who he was, he was Logan from Corbin Fisher. Have you noticed my proplem yet? The next thing that came to my head was “what the fuck, Logan, Corbin Fisher Logan, you are a stupid mother fucker.”
In the end he turned out to be a Uni mate of mutual friend, and shock horror not a porn star. I wonder if it's to late to start Lent? If not, I think I may have to give up porn for a month!
Well I can officially say that us kids of the early 70's to late 80's that we were jibbed. After grabbing a quick bite to eat at my local shopping centre, I was shocked at what I stubbled upon. On the centre stage stood Dorothy the Dinosaur, dancing and singing away. Beside her stood a 50 inch plasma. A 50 inch fucking plasma people!! No shitty balloons, no lollies or crappy clowns making animal balloons, just a dirty big plasma.
Fucking jibbed i say, JIBBED!!
It was a perfect Saturday morning down at the lake. The Sun was shinning. Joggers were jogging. Rowers were doing their thing out in the lake. And 80 odd people were stretching their little legs before the 1st Asia Pacific Outgames running event kicked off. I’m not sure what everyone else was feeling, but boy was I nervous.
Then, after what felt like hours, we were off. First off were the people who were doing the 5km event. Five minute later the rest of us were off. Now as any one who has run in a fun run will know that you tend to dash off from the start line from all the excitement. I had told myself that I wouldn’t do it, and thank fuck I didn’t. As the gun went, we all headed off, but some of the guys must have thought it was a 100m sprint. Before long they were a little blur off in the distance.
After the first lap I was ready to die. It was that hot and humid and not ideal conditions to run in. As I ran past the start/finish line I watched as the 5km runners finished their race, and all I was thinking went a little something like this. “Fuckers! c*nts! mother fuckers! Why the fuck did I choose to run the fucking 10km event?? Fuck its hot!!” Thankfully on the second lap of the lake there was some temporary relief. Five physically perfect guys, all shirtless, exercising away on the parks exercise equipment, oh yeah.
Then finally, after what felt like hours, the finish line was in sight. And just like at the start, it felt like a fuzzy blur off in the distance that didn’t seem to get any closer. However there’s nothing like a clapping crowd to get you moving even though you feel like absolute shit. Thundering down the main straight looking like I had been running at this pace all race and trying to make it look like it was a walk in the park, I crossed the finish line in 47mins, a new PB!!
It was a great day, and a well organised event. But the best thing of all was when my name got called out for the Bronze Medal for my age group. Wooo Hooo!!
As a member of Frontrunners, the gay and lesbian running group, I will be running in the 10km race held at Albert Park Lake on Saturday. I’ve been putting in the hard yards training for the event, and so far I’ve been injury free, touch wood. However if I’m not doing very well, I’ll follow a few simple rules that have been rehearsed at Olympic Games since the 70’s.
The first one requires little effort and I’m sure it’s practiced by all athletes at a top level. If anyone laps you, simply push them into the lake. It’s a little heartless but it’s a shallow lake so I’m sure they’ll be fine. The main thing is that by the time they get out of the lake you’ll be well on your way to the finish line. The second one is more strategic and requires the help of your friends. All you do is get about half a dozen of your most attractive friends and place them around the course. All they had to do is stop the lead runners and pretend to ask for directions in a flirty nature, while you quickly run past to victory.
The final plan isn’t vindictive or heartless, and it probably won’t even get you to the finish line in a reasonable time. It’s more a plan to get you that man of your dreams or at the very least a root. It’s also simple and doesn’t require much effort. The plan is to watch who’s coming up behind you and if you like what you see, simple fall over in front of them and fall to the ground together. As you’re lying there on the ground, make out it’s his fault for tripping you. As you dust yourself off, look up and gaze into his eyes while romantic music plays in the background. If all goes well, you’ll be booking yourself into a hotel room across the way on Queens Road.
Now if all that fails I’ve still got my secret weapon, my very own Gummiberry juice!
See you at the games!