Fleekin Floygn

Manhunt is giving me an eating disorder. Am I first? No. Am I the first that is me? Absolutely. It was bad enough in Winnipeg but now that I'm in the land that carbs forgot, I don't have a shot. Well, unless it's a shot to the face from some 46 year old amateur massage therapist/photographer. I don't even message people any more for fear of the right-out-of-the-gate concessions they'll be making in responding to someone with a waist size of more than 31 (It's 32.5. I should be shot). Also, to all of you 8+ guys, some of you are lying. Seriously. It can't just be that the Asians bring down the average that much. They would require President's Choice Savoury Cocktail Sausage Rolls-sized junk to come close to that making mathematical sense. And is not Manhunt, above all other things, about making mathematical sense?

Hanging out with the gay Jews on Friday was kinda fun. My contact guy, ie the only one that I knew somewhat, was very nice, babysitting me the whole night. I find him strangely attractive. Not in a I-want-to-bang-that-like-metal-siding kinda way, but more that he was very charismatic. I was surprised by how the more he talked the much more pleasant he became to look at. That's probably just what as known as 'having a good personality', but clearly that is something I encounter so infrequently that it was a real treat. I am, at this point, of course, beyond tired of meeting new people, but these guys were pretty sweet from what I gathered. Some of them were not half-bad looking either, although even the ones that looked like Jewish Moby extemporized on their gym regimens at one point or another. Maybe I'll just stop eating altogether, existing on coffee and fear that no man will ever love me. After drinks at someone's townhouse (I hate my apartment), we went to this 'party', which is a word Torontonians use for any sort of rented-space event, as opposed to the Winnipeg definition of 'a rave'. This was almost an anti-village party, with very few muscle boys or Hollister douches. These were American Apparel douches. Well, maybe AA meets Value Village douches. But minus the douches, as most of the people there seemed pretty cool, including my chaperone who disclosed that he had been "really into black guys for, like, 6 weeks last summer and hooked up with one of them pretty much every week." (Well, suck on that neo-Nazis and KKK members of the world.) There was one couple (not in our group) who were really creepy, a bisexual male and female couple who go to these parties to pick up young gay things for a night of pleasure with them. This sparked a debate about whether bisexuality was a viable option. One fellow in our group, upon asserting that he felt it is simply a form of closeting, remarked of his own closed-mindedness, "If I was straight, I would totally be homophobic." The bi couple was also strangely paired. He kinda looked like a craggy Christian Bale. She kinda looked like a transexual. Incidentally, and I'm sure completely unrelated, it was around this time that my stomach, which had experienced irregular amounts of meat and completely regular amounts of alcohol, decided that I'd made a foolish decision and would be required to leave as soon as possible. I cabbed home, spent the entire night fitfully tossing, skipped Temple the next morning (buh-bye $85) and did nothing yesterday except eat pasta, sit on my bed and talk to losers on Manhunt.

Really glad I'm honing those full-circle skills for this blog.