tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52378255169072954732012-01-25T16:59:58.212+01:00Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.comBlogger4121100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-36224183739228170592012-01-18T00:57:00.003+01:002012-01-18T18:44:24.257+01:00

Three years ago I wrote on my blog that when arranging a date, young guys often stress in advance that it will be just for sex and one time only, no strings attached, but then after the date they immediately want to arrange a second date, and the focus quickly shifts from 'sex only' to dinner, cinema, city trips and summer vacations. It's not that I didn't want that; it's just that my mind

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-74826537328610688562012-01-06T13:23:00.009+01:002012-01-06T15:00:01.689+01:00

I've never really liked celebrating my birthday. When I was in grade school I did like the fact that in the evening most of my relatives would come over and give me lots of presents, but then on the Saturday that followed I got a party with friends. I didn't want my parents to know that I didn't have any friends, so I invited the kids that bullied me least. When we'd go to a swimming pool, a

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-85238630520387650312011-12-20T17:48:00.001+01:002011-12-20T17:49:10.724+01:00

In addition to his phobias and fears, Aaron suffers from depressions. He avoids contact with other people as much as possible and tries to hide his condition from this family, hence his best friend and Will are the only people he can express his frustration to, which he does by acting extremely hostile and controlling. Recently his best friend couldn't take his aggression anymore and then Will

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-70077298475300316542011-12-06T22:09:00.001+01:002011-12-06T22:10:03.054+01:00

In the week that followed (see The lakeside couple [3 of 4]) Will and Aaron each contacted me several times and each told me that if they wouldn't have had a boyfriend, they'd try and make me theirs. They went on and on about my bed skills, but added that I was also a handsome, nice, social and intelligent guy who had become much more to them than just a fuck buddy. I cannot deny that I was

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-31185444299322129122011-11-23T19:17:00.002+01:002011-11-24T10:16:45.729+01:00

After my night with Will and Aaron (see The lakeside couple [2 of 4]) we kept in contact through Aaron's number. He said he wanted to meet up again but that they had other plans on Friday night. It turned out that the other plan was to have a quiet evening on the sofa and watch a popular tv show together and not stay up late. When they heard it was a tv show I also watched, they invited me over

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-21950829514331557072011-11-07T23:37:00.001+01:002011-11-07T23:38:44.734+01:00

It was early morning on a working day. In the packed metro that transferred me between from the bus from home and the train to work, I was playing listening to Bach's double violin concerto while checking Facebook on my phone. At the other end of the car sat a girl in her early twenties with long blond hair, smartly dressed for work. She had all the qualities that make a girl pretty, but somehow

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-28298861468090257002011-11-02T19:23:00.001+01:002011-11-02T19:24:45.993+01:00

Friday night, the day after the wedding party (see The wedding) I suddenly felt like having sex again. I logged onto a chat site and after a few hours I found a guy that I liked enough to meet up with. He just gave me the address I needed to cycle to and we were wrapping up the conversation so I could leave when I saw a nice looking guy sit in front of a web cam. Behind him stood another nice guy

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-3707141145508215502011-10-30T19:40:00.001+01:002011-10-30T19:41:44.597+01:00

Being part of a crowd of people that don't fit together, being forced to dance, listening to amateurs giving bad speeches and one professional who doesn't really know the people his speech is about: I just don't like weddings. However, when my best friend from college, Victor (see Butt buddies) got married to his girlfriend Sharon recently, I was very happy for them and took a day off from work

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-40501125484381982432011-10-24T21:08:00.006+02:002011-10-25T07:21:40.452+02:00

On a Sunday in my summer vacation the weather was exceptionally good and I chose to get a bit of a tan for a change (see Vacation). Since I didn't want to have any ugly colour differences I decided to go to a nude beach. The lakeside one I looked up on the internet turned out to be moderately popular. The water looked like pure green paint because of the algae but fortunately refreshing dips

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-42823878486001688562011-10-17T19:51:00.002+02:002011-10-27T19:18:51.855+02:00

I had a Friday off and that morning I slept three hours longer than I do on a work day. It's amazing how much fitter that extra bit of sleep makes you feel. The weather was beautiful: it was one of the few hot, sunny days of an otherwise miserable year and I was set to catch my fair share of sun rays. It had been eighteen days since I had been intimate with a sexy guy (see Pinch me: I'm dreaming)

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-3795298007645129632011-10-14T13:49:00.000+02:002011-10-14T13:49:49.141+02:00

Earlier this summer I had asked my boss if I could have two-and-a-half weeks off in September after the schools would start again but before autumn would set in. This translates to relatively cheap vacations with pretty weather. I planned this when I was still with Edward. He was dreaming about us travelling by car through the United States, while I was having doubts if he would be able to afford

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-61639018284840097062011-10-10T19:06:00.013+02:002011-10-12T18:40:49.831+02:00

My mother's husband, Paul, prefers to spend his life in the village where they live and has no appreciation for anything new. My mother adjusts well to that, even though she loves new influences. I feel it's my duty to introduce these influences every now and then, and so I had planned a trip with her to the other side of the country on the first day of my summer vacation. The trip included a

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-69260597058467826962011-10-07T01:52:00.012+02:002011-10-08T09:55:23.392+02:00

It was Monday evening three weeks ago in the middle of a fortnight off from work. I turned on my Grindr application and as usual on free weekday mornings and evenings businessmen and airline personnel staying in the nearby airport hotels sent me messages. One message was from an Arab with a nice build. His face was also okay but not that amazing, I had some doubts but then decided that the total

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-76710962421501438882011-10-01T09:39:00.004+02:002011-10-12T18:37:36.261+02:00

I was brought up to think that tattoos marked someone as 'lower class'. On my mother's side of the family many men had themselves inked, while on my father's side that would be unthinkable. I had studied the butterflies and anchors in faded colours that decorated my uncles forearms and the ribbons that carried the names of my aunts and cousins and decided that I would never have a tattoo ruin the

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-91242313993865522632011-09-28T21:35:00.006+02:002011-10-18T00:12:15.031+02:00

Two months ago I was at the birthday party of a guy from the friends group that I'm now also part of since the night I met Edward (see It's a small, small world). The party was in the bar where generally on evenings and weekend some of this group can be found drinking something together. At the party some people arrived who, I learned, also belonged to this group, but who lived outside the city.

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-76878403506129367882011-09-24T00:47:00.016+02:002011-09-25T11:42:03.966+02:00

Every now and then I write a post that I know doesn't show my best side, but this one makes me feel particularly embarrassed. Before I would use a Viagra pill (see Pills, powders and liquids) for my next encounter with C. (see Starfucker on third base) I wanted to try out if it really worked as it was supposed to. And what better occasion to do that than at a sex party. In one of the clubs in

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-6008164156263647892011-09-11T19:27:00.016+02:002011-09-24T00:53:05.308+02:00

I've always disliked medication. I believe that one should not unnecessarily distort the chemical balance in the body, and that the possible adverse effects of pills are hardly ever worth taking them in the first place. Older people often even take medication to counter those effects. The horror! I even avoid painkillers unless I have a migraine and it's still morning on a workday, or that time

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-24794348731340725712011-09-03T08:26:00.004+02:002011-09-03T08:45:30.838+02:00

A few months ago I wrote about a sexy celebrity who wanted to have a sex date with me, who longed to be fucked by me on my motorcycle, but who didn't show up when I was at his street corner to pick him up (see Starfucker). When saw him on Skype a few weeks later and said hi, he went off-line immediately. I figured he had probably blocked me and never expected to hear from him again; I was wrong.

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-60573336048071007332011-08-30T07:07:00.005+02:002011-09-01T01:38:17.088+02:00

I believe that psychological problems are nurtured my people focussing on them. That's why I don't believe psychologists can really help anyone, except in the rare cases where they can find a deeper cause and take that away. Unfortunately, some psychological problems -- a clinical depression for example -- are impossible for the patient to ignore so then the problem nurtures itself. In that case

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-51570480684426067922011-08-28T08:56:00.009+02:002011-08-28T13:47:55.653+02:00

As it seems, nowadays taking phone calls at a restaurant table is not considered rude anymore, nor is texting a friend while in a real life conversation with someone else. I was out with this large gay group (see It's a small, small world) recently and I noticed how most of them frequently checked their Facebook wall and Grindr messages. After some alcohol had been flowing two guys even started

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-56741444469953095412011-08-26T07:18:00.002+02:002011-08-27T08:38:09.448+02:00

I went out several times in the last few weeks and met many new people. However, in groups I'm too fucking to shy to say anything, and when I finally think of something to say that actually adds something to the conversation I stutter or clumsily say the opposite of what I wanted to say. So, I usually just keep my mouth shut, feeling like a geeky observer. In those larger groups usually the

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-5713949899104375832011-08-24T07:32:00.006+02:002011-08-25T23:08:44.501+02:00

Ever since I entered secondary school my parents wanted me to work during the summer holidays. I didn't feel much like working, but when forced to I looked for heavy and dirty work in particular. This had three advantages: those jobs paid better, I built some muscles, and I would work close together with people whom I would otherwise never meet in my current and future social circle. I loved

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-45291865153585630922011-08-19T08:48:00.004+02:002011-08-19T23:24:05.644+02:00

After a week without any contact I received a Facebook message from Edward (see A credible liar's incredible truth) and decided to give him a call. He sounded like the Edward I had known in the first two months (see Kissing outside in broad daylight), the Edward everyone liked so much. He said he was happy now. He was glad to be out of the city, away from the gossiping gay circle, and finally had

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-1427534907668259952011-08-12T00:51:00.008+02:002011-08-14T00:04:20.833+02:00

In the evening after the car wash incident (see Scared of a big child) Edward seemed to have cooled down, so it was safe to raise the meta-topic of quarrelling. I told Edward that I was not happy with his extremely hot temper. I told him he tended to get furious at me for the most insignificant reasons and that his irrationality and violent behaviour scared me at those times. "So, now the fact

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-84821178652952338172011-08-08T23:25:00.006+02:002011-08-13T10:10:42.744+02:00

Edward and I borrowed my parents' car and started our eight-hour trip to the foreign city I wanted to show Edward. I had been there last year and was sure Edward would love the architecture. He was a bit uncomfortable about crossing the border because his former landlord still had his passport and hadn't agreed to return it yet. But since you don't really need a passport anymore to cross the

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-87214418816123658932011-07-27T23:23:00.002+02:002011-07-28T21:32:05.245+02:00

Things were moving in the wrong direction with Edward and I reviewed the choices I made with him.  - When I found out on the first evening that he bragged more than other people, should I still have kissed him? It was probably the alcohol that triggered this, but even if it was part of his personality, would it be a reason for me to consider him 'not good enough for me'? I think not. How could I

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-18881295603180623502011-07-13T18:54:00.004+02:002011-09-10T20:01:17.534+02:00

A few weeks after I met him, Edward became my boyfriend. Only a few days later his jealous roommate kicked him out by email and changed all the locks. Edward was too proud to collect his belongings or ask back the two months rent he had paid in advance. Almost simultaneously Edward turned jobless and depleted his savings. As a result he lives at my place now for free (see Love is blind). He

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-63208397573586421952011-07-02T09:47:00.003+02:002011-07-14T18:59:10.045+02:00

When I returned from a relaxing weekend in Madrid (see Catching a flight) I worked in the office for two days and then two days in one of our offices abroad. I decided to stay there for two more nights so I could visit an old friend and his wife and kids on Friday evening and Saturday, and go out in the city centre by myself on Saturday night and meet new people. But I didn't enjoy going out: I

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-20710086606628555782011-06-28T19:43:00.004+02:002011-07-14T18:59:48.378+02:00

It wasn't until late April when I realised that I needed to unwind a bit. Even though I can take fifty days off in 2011, I had taken only two and a half in the first four months but I didn't spent those on relaxation (see Stress!). My boss complains a lot when I try to take days off, so I decided to go away for a long weekend in May. That way I only needed to take a Monday off from work -- Friday

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-53987230219286272352011-06-22T19:49:00.004+02:002011-06-23T20:28:57.021+02:00

As a teenager I liked mathematics because it is so pure: it exists without context but applies to almost any (see Long ago: "And yet it moves"), and mathematical statements are either indisputably true or indisputably false. When I learned about statements that don't have a definite truth value, that there is not perfect system for elections, and that you can prove just about anything with

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-11963359169422044482011-06-10T21:19:00.001+02:002011-09-10T20:01:42.247+02:00

It was Sunday and Edward wanted to know what was troubling me. But I couldn't tell him. I couldn't tell him I was feeling guilty about fucking him with protection, but without informing him I was poz, on the previous night (see The predicted dilemma [1 of 2]). If I told him, he might tell his friends and the word would spread. On the other hand, if I wouldn't tell Edward, I was going to keep

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-75500614627962847452011-06-07T07:47:00.001+02:002011-09-10T20:02:17.310+02:00

In the week that followed Edward (see Kissing outside in broad daylight) visited me almost every day. I knew that the Official Dating Rule Book strongly advised against spending so much time together, but Edward and I couldn't care less.  The first night Edward and I had had sex. He had fucked me; the rest of the week we only cuddled and kissed. The most important reason for this was that we were

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-76053560095876176812011-06-04T10:48:00.000+02:002011-06-23T23:57:59.687+02:00

In early April I was still complaining that 2011 was not my year: during each weekend up until then I had had bad luck (see Good Samaritan) and this weekend was no different. Erdem took some very nice pictures of me on my motorcycle in exchange for me cooking him his favourite dish (see New photos). For the last five minutes I turned on the lights so it looked as if it were in motion rather than

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-30987494554041973092011-06-01T18:54:00.003+02:002011-09-10T20:03:13.545+02:00

Edward left in the afternoon (see Kissing outside in broad daylight) and I spent a few hours realising what had happened over the weekend.  The four main ways to meet guys are: sports or hobby clubs, night life, internet and through friends. I'm awful at sports and there is no hobby I'm fanatic enough about to fit in a club. Besides, guys who join a gay-only sports or hobby club are generally the

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-20507080265166487812011-05-29T01:18:00.002+02:002011-05-29T01:22:51.791+02:00

Edward (see It's a small, small world) and I woke up on Saturday morning and we just couldn't stop cuddling and kissing. He was about my height and had the body of -- and in fact is -- a boxer who had quit boxing two years ago: broad shoulders, a muscular, smooth chest and strong arms with big hands. Although his skin was amazingly soft and his face very friendly it was clear that he was someone

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-2018522753572077242011-05-26T07:28:00.003+02:002011-09-10T20:04:11.247+02:00

The week after my trip with Jake there were gay festivities in my city that I always went out of my way to avoid. This time, however, my neighbour Atan (see The neighbour) and his friend Stephen (see Meeting gay men) invited me to go out with them and their friends group. I knew most of these guys from their comments on Atan and Stephen's Facebook and they seemed to be very friendly. However, I

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-69817414988067424192011-05-23T09:29:00.002+02:002011-09-10T20:04:40.829+02:00

After I came back home from welcoming home my 'son', as Matthew refers to Milton (see This bird has flown), I noticed I still felt tense. It had been the most stressful week had I ever had at work and I still had to prepare a presentation, but decided to postpone that until I had enjoyed some time to unwind. Later in the morning went to Jake's place and enjoyed the sunny weather and his company

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-41908808266855180232011-05-21T21:53:00.002+02:002011-05-21T21:57:34.982+02:00

I love animals. I grew up always having at least one pet around and I couldn't imagine myself as an adult without one. Yet when I finished university I felt I didn't have the time to take proper care of a pet. If I'd take a pet, I wanted one that was sufficiently intelligent to outsmart me sometimes and that you can grow a bond with. But intelligent pets need more challenges and more social

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-62849208084881571892011-05-14T10:29:00.005+02:002011-05-15T09:56:04.745+02:00

After Julio left (see Perfect body) I went for my regular blood test and spent the rest of the day relaxing. It had been a crazy week at work and the next week would be even crazier, so I really needed to clear my head. On Saturday I did practically nothing, except in the evening when Erdem made me a nice dinner. Later that evening I went to a party where the dress code was leather/rubber. I had

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-76041976583709382532011-05-13T20:20:00.001+02:002011-05-22T01:52:50.580+02:00

On my Friday off, a week after having sex with neither the hot celebrity (see Starfucker) nor the cute youngster (see Who's your daddy?) I rediscovered Grindr, the iPhone application that helps gay boys find men. Up until then Grindr had only brought me into contact with my friendly neighbour (see The neighbour) and that was that. This morning I was going to a nearby hospital for a regular blood

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-56708407942108709762011-05-10T06:54:00.001+02:002011-05-10T06:55:12.164+02:00

After I returned home from being stood up by the hot celebrity (see Starfucker) I opened my computer in order to do my financial administration. When I'm using my computer I'm always online on Skype, and I was contacted by a guy I had added to my contact list weeks before after chatting on a gay chat site and hadn't seen since. He was eighteen or nineteen if I remembered well, but I didn't know

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-23160261576307340692011-05-07T20:17:00.003+02:002011-05-08T15:49:37.327+02:00

It was a Saturday evening and I had just returned home from a good conversation with Matthew at a lake terrace. I didn't feel like sleeping yet and so I logged on to a gay chat site using one of the pictures that Erdem had taken of me the week before (see New photos).  I was online for only a few seconds when someone anonymous send me a message. I replied that I would like to see who I was

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-70595546446571880422011-05-02T18:43:00.001+02:002011-05-02T18:46:14.483+02:00

Two years ago I had just taken a shower and put on some old, badly fitting clothes in order to do some home improvement. I was about to put some gel in my hair and brush my teeth when my mother entered; she had come to help. I quickly picked up my guitar to show her a new riff that I mastered, but instead of listening she took a camera and shot a picture of me. For more than a year that picture,

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-12095074851051232182011-04-26T21:14:00.007+02:002011-08-14T11:19:23.664+02:00

Ralph, my first boyfriend, cheated on me with several guys. I left him after 2.5 years. I came over one more time and we had a loving and honest conversation in which he told me that during our relationship he had discovered he actually doesn't fancy blond men. Matthew, my second boyfriend, cheated on me with loads of guys. After eight years I broke up with him, and we had a very open

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-21586788224100484482011-04-20T22:37:00.016+02:002011-04-29T07:27:08.808+02:00

It's not the medical part that makes an HIV infection difficult to life with, it's the social part. Eat my porridge! The first question that arises is "Who do I tell about it?" That was easy for me: I would tell two close friends who knew each other, and no one else. I would have liked to be completely open about it, but I realise there is this social stigma on HIV. One serious website, for

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-34533447480846352782011-04-16T08:29:00.020+02:002011-04-25T08:51:51.811+02:00

Matthew and Joey brought me home after we finished our delicious Saltimbocca alla Romana, because I needed some time alone to deal with the consequences of the big news (see The wake-up call). The doctor at the clinic had taken an extra blood sample to double check the result, and the initial 'zero-test' taken in the hospital on Sunday (see Better safe than sorry) was going to function as a

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-20455814970847558312011-04-13T08:52:00.034+02:002011-04-19T22:08:36.835+02:00

When I close my eyes I always fall asleep in about ten seconds. It's a luxury I take for granted. I think that on average I have trouble falling asleep at most four times a year: three times because of high temperature and humidity (see Springtime!) and the other time because I cannot stop thinking about something. The night after I visited the hospital and started my PEP medication (see Better

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-23111872424057596682011-04-11T21:50:00.016+02:002011-04-12T19:08:22.657+02:00

I called Matthew and summarised the story: "Yesterday night after I went out I had a date  (see Rocky horror [1 of 3]). The guy gave me drugs (see Rocky horror [2 of 3]) and I don't remember anything that happened in the next hour except that he wanted us to fuck bareback (see Rocky horror [3 of 3]). Can I come over and tell you the details? I need your advice here." Considerations Before I

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-91140458632041557872011-04-08T18:20:00.012+02:002011-04-11T19:17:08.021+02:00

I had slept for half an hour at most when I woke up again. It was noon and I was lying in bed on my back, which I never do, and my heart as still pounding heavily. I knew that I had to sleep a bit more, but I didn't feel sleepy at all: I was full of energy. I started thinking about what had happened the night before. I couldn't believe I had taken a pill from someone I didn't know at all. How

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-47374495897693579662011-04-07T00:01:00.009+02:002011-04-11T19:19:28.898+02:00

"It's your turn now to receive a massage," Rocky said, "Make yourself comfortable in the bedroom." I went to the bedroom and laid face-down on the bed while he was busy in the kitchen. From that point on I barely remember anything, only flashes of sentences -- very disturbing flashes.  I remember that Rocky asked me if I liked barebacking and that I told him I always used protection. He tried to

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-70544503046399468862011-04-05T00:25:00.007+02:002011-09-10T20:09:05.322+02:00

When I arrived at Rocky's place (see Rocky horror [1 of 3]) he introduced himself as John, but for the sake of continuity I'll keep referring to him as 'Rocky' on my blog. Rocky spoke English very fast and with a very cute accent. I knew he also spoke my native language, but for some reason people seem to like me better when I speak English with them -- it might be the Knut effect (see Norwegian

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-51025956766089963362011-04-03T21:09:00.011+02:002011-04-25T08:59:59.488+02:00

A week after the poker night (see Slow play) I was enjoying having a Saturday evening at home all by myself. I watched a bit of television for change and felt sorry for myself: In the last month I had met many interesting new men, but I wasn't sexually attracted to any of them -- which is kind of a prerequisite for a boyfriend. The only physical intimacy was with the Brazilian whom I had met

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-77709963602424628412011-03-31T20:14:00.020+02:002011-09-15T01:47:06.216+02:00

When I was in college Victor and I were best friends (see Butt buddies). Sometimes he'd mention Riccardo, his best friend in secondary school. Victor told me that Riccardo was a good and honest person, maybe too good for this world, and certainly not cool enough to be one of the popular guys that Victor preferred to be among. According to Victor, Riccardo was sometimes a bit too serious although

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-20262921228565737662011-03-30T01:09:00.010+02:002011-03-30T19:47:21.993+02:00

One of the fourteen gay men that I met in that particular week (see Meeting gay men) was a guy I had noticed for some time on a dating site. I never initiated contact because I was convinced he was out of my digital league: he would like me if he met me in person, but not like my profile pictures enough to agree on meeting me in the first place (see Moving pictures). It's happened before that

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-81322140036370796362011-03-27T09:12:00.009+02:002011-03-28T18:49:11.437+02:00

In early February I had a date with a sexy Brazilian guy. We had a nice chat at his place without any sexual tension in which he told me he had moved here recently and was only going to stay for a year to do research in one of the city's hospitals. He was only 26 but was already a medical doctor. When I was about to leave he suddenly touched my arm and we initiated sex. Surprisingly, the fact

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-88055035634510636882011-03-25T19:07:00.007+01:002011-03-27T03:33:49.210+02:00

"Hey, I know you! You take bus 144 every day at around 5.50 p.m. on Lincoln Lane. You always listen to the music on your iPhone. I like how you take one earphone out when you pass the bus driver. And you're always smiling: I love that. When the bus is at your stop, Holly Street, you always run in order to pass in front of the bus before it leaves, then you keep on running for about a hundred

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-53903927850026203352011-03-23T19:53:00.006+01:002011-03-23T20:09:53.664+01:00

Eight months ago, just before I met Erdem, I had a date with a eighteen-year-old named Elroy (see Mixed messages). I should have known that his young age would lead to trouble. A few weeks after we met Elroy was shocked to hear that I had entered a relationship with Erdem and that I had not chosen him. I told him he had himself to blame, because he was pushing me away, but that I also felt the

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-70127993650706793602011-03-21T23:34:00.005+01:002011-03-22T17:15:51.049+01:00

I believe in Karma, or maybe I should state that I choose to believe in Karma (see Jackal). It's a nice concept that gives me the confidence that, knowing I'm doing my best to be a good person to others, good things will happen to me. So far 2011 has brought me mostly bad stuff: a break-up with my boyfriend, assaulted in a shopping street, iPhone stolen, mother has heart problems, et cetera.

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-49988900733216328162011-03-20T10:16:00.003+01:002011-03-20T10:31:11.816+01:00

If you'd see my mom doing sports you wouldn't think I was remotely related to her. She's in her mid-fifties but has a better physical condition than most people half her age. Last summer she walked fifty kilometres from her town to mine, and you couldn't notice any sign of fatigue. She would have returned in the same manner later that day if I hadn't insisted she'd take a bus back. Physically

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-8125566461464104652011-03-18T18:58:00.005+01:002011-03-20T14:13:55.186+01:00

A week after the weird date with A.C. (see With clothes on) I was sitting home alone when suddenly Erdem, my Turkish ex-boyfriend, called me to ask if I felt like going out with him, as friends. I did and we went to a recently reopened bar that I used to frequent. Halfway the night Erdem and I were standing at the bar when a couple entered: a sexy Arab in his early twenties and a less attractive

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-27615792464687773922011-03-16T23:38:00.018+01:002011-07-30T16:52:40.898+02:00

In my search for sex I had logged on to this gay chat site again for the first time in seven months. I was looking for a handsome top or otherwise an amazingly sexy bottom, preferably a couple combining both (see Anal sex). Of course, I couldn't find anyone who fit my unreasonably high standards; I logged on almost every evening that week, but in vain. I felt pathetic not being able to find a hot

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-54245212638795259532011-03-11T00:10:00.005+01:002011-03-12T08:19:18.616+01:00

I've grown to like anal sex a lot, but I've been a slow starter. I think I lived with my first boyfriend for a year already before we tried it for the first time. I had always thought that it would be painful for one and a filthy mess for the other. I was 23 and I had never watched any gay porn, but even if I had, I would have considered a cock coming out of an ass all clean just as improbable as

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-71305069937062222972011-03-06T22:52:00.007+01:002011-03-07T07:55:53.639+01:00

It was a Sunday afternoon, a week before I broke up with my third boyfriend, Erdem (see Break-up brunch). He was on a trip and I was chilling at home wearing my lazy pants: grey Champion jogging pants that used to belong to my second boyfriend, Matthew (see Love in the fast lane [2 of 2]) but that I could keep when we broke up because I always wore them. I have two similar souvenirs from my first

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-80302258882015124742011-02-26T01:58:00.007+01:002011-03-04T10:19:03.927+01:00

At a certain age kids start to interfere when you buy clothes for them. Usually they know what they want and will not stop screaming and begging until you give up and they get it. Not me, I was worse: I only knew what I did not want. I still feel sorry for my parents having to deal with that. Typically, on a weekday my parents would announce that we would be going into the city to buy new clothes

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-44234866167561219892011-02-23T01:28:00.005+01:002011-03-12T10:50:09.130+01:00

The first thing I did after my recent promotion at work was to email my boyfriend that I wanted to celebrate it with a dinner in a Japanese restaurant. We both love Japanese food (see Sushi) but rarely eat it. "No," responded Erdem, "I've discovered a very nice Italian restaurant. Let's go there instead." I'm usually very flexible and was surprised by my own agitated response: "Next time you buy

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-4044482884037190582011-02-19T11:50:00.005+01:002011-02-19T19:15:44.044+01:00

L: Are you happy? R: I don't know what you mean. L: You know damned well what I mean. Are you happy? R: Hey, watch your language a bit! I don't know, really. I've longed for a relationship for about two years. I felt I was going to grow old alone. I hated sleeping in my big bed all alone. And now I've found this great guy that I love, so why wouldn't I be happy? L: You're rationalising, listen to

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-11886491083663095942011-02-16T18:45:00.007+01:002011-02-19T10:48:07.588+01:00

When I was a kid weather forecasts were the last small item of the evening news, read by the news reader himself. He would state the temperature, cloudiness and amount of precipitation for the following day as unalterable facts, and that was it. I wondered why tomorrow's weather was newsworthy at all. I could understand that for fishermen, farmers and pilots it was interesting, but they make up

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-45779710407280904582011-02-10T21:48:00.018+01:002011-05-08T15:25:14.427+02:00

Erdem had been living in my country for about nine months, six of which he had been my boyfriend. He felt he didn't meet enough new people and was eager to meet my friends, especially the gay ones. So when Edvard contacted me after eight months of silence and wanted to meet up with me, Erdem was eager to join. The rehearsal I made clear to Erdem that Edvard was an acquaintance, and certainly not

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-30290454924119977202011-02-03T18:32:00.012+01:002011-05-08T15:35:42.246+02:00

There's this psychopath that I've known for half my life and I desperately want to get rid of him; I should have done so when I had the chance. I'll make a deal with you: I tell you the story of this Edvard in two parts and you tell me how to ditch him without bloodshed. Coming out At the birthday party of my friend Eddy (see Coming out: Eddy) four years ago I met Edvard again. It had been ten

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-85916480963596031952011-01-26T23:01:00.001+01:002011-01-26T23:04:20.420+01:00

When we broke up, Matthew told me he would follow my example and never lie to a loved one again. No matter how much his closeted boyfriend wants it, Matthew refuses to meet Joey's parents and pretend he's 'just a friend, for if they ever find out Joey is gay, they will consider Matthew a liar. I fully agree with Matthew, but when my boyfriend wanted to introduce me to his mother as 'just a friend

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-82134049684083812052011-01-22T01:48:00.009+01:002011-01-22T12:28:02.489+01:00

On our second date (see Quest for the spark [2 of 4]) Erdem asked me to join him on a trip that he was planning to make two months from then. He was going to surprise his former band on their tour of Italy, perform with them for one concert, and spend the rest of the week sightseeing. I thought it was far too soon to make that decision, but three weeks later, just before my motorcycle trip (see

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-1747005813436243292011-01-16T10:12:00.009+01:002011-01-16T11:14:01.931+01:00

"I'm so grateful and happy with our friendship," Matthew said to me, "Whenever I tell people about how we broke up after I cheated on you and how we've become such close friends since, they all tell me it's something very special. And I agree. And I cherish that. The physical attraction might be gone completely, but I love you a lot. You're my best friend." Matthew barely says a word when other

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-29314502360073341882011-01-14T15:35:00.011+01:002011-01-16T23:34:04.401+01:00

My boyfriend is a Turkish ex-patriot who's been living in my city for several months now. Before he emigrated he had found a nice, fully furnished apartment for rent online. The location was good, but there were several small things wrong with the place. The doorbell didn't work, so when visiting him, I always had to call him on the phone when I was downstairs at his front door. Because the

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-84236837627544191112011-01-11T00:03:00.007+01:002011-01-13T09:48:01.367+01:00

Half a year ago I met this great guy who I could soon call 'my boyfriend' (see Quest for the spark [4 of 4]). Since then I've spent little time writing blog posts and invested a lot in Erdem instead. When I finally wrote a new post, my computer crashed when I had almost finished it. I wrote it again, and again all data was lost just before I published. I couldn't get myself to write that long

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-90777151988103149282010-11-30T18:59:00.004+01:002011-01-10T23:06:34.553+01:00

I used to call my father 'Sir' and was raised to address my mother, grandparents, aunts and uncles in a similar manner. The way he once told me how appalled he was when he overheard a four-year-old call his mother by her given name made clear that I was never ever to do so in my life. It might sound as if my parents were very cold and distant, but I felt that in other homes parents were far less

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-68228129747411861702010-10-18T22:03:00.003+02:002010-10-20T18:01:06.668+02:00

On Saturdays my parents used to go to the market in the nearest town. They walked two rounds through the city at a very fast pace, next to each other while I walked behind them. With my short legs I could barely keep up with them. If I complained about my father's cigarette ashes falling on my coat or the smoke that irritated my eyes, I was basically told to shut up. Before we drove back to our

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-44797048369803966422010-10-15T21:43:00.003+02:002010-10-15T21:52:41.274+02:00

Whereas outside Europe people generally seem to associate 'Turkish' with the rich history, culture and food of the country, most Europeans seem to think of poor, uneducated, unclean, and very religious muslems. Some time ago I wrote a post in which I explained my view on what caused this situation (see Of prudence and cowardice). Two months ago I told my mother I was seeing this Turkish guy. She

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-31250998529598905092010-10-12T19:29:00.007+02:002010-10-13T23:17:17.306+02:00

My mother keeps repeating how long the journey to my place is for her and her boyfriend Paul (see The responsible kid). I cannot understand that: by car it's only thirty minutes and last summer she even walked the distance in order to go shopping in my town. Recently she went on a vacation to Greece with her sister Velma. She asked me to give her and Velma a quick course in pronunciation of the

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-27067478773043453082010-10-04T23:22:00.002+02:002010-10-04T23:32:20.206+02:00

When I was a student there was this group trip to Japan that I could easily attend. However, I was afraid of the food there -- I knew about the raw fish -- and even more afraid that I might not be able to read the menu well enough to recognise the one or two things I could eat (see Zucchini flowers). A year ago my friend Marianne (see Amélie) prepared sushi for me. The portions were a bit large

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-19260999952190312652010-10-01T18:43:00.003+02:002010-10-06T21:14:51.809+02:00

When it came to food, I used to take my father as my big example. This was a bit unfortunate since, although he loved to experiment in general (see Drugs [2 of 2]), he was very conservative when it came to food. He avoided any cheese, garlic, onions, brown beans, sweet pepper, shallots, leek, celery, Brussels sprouts, any sauces, oil, vinegar and insisted on meat as the main ingredient of his

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-74962196199045749552010-09-14T22:39:00.002+02:002010-09-15T07:14:39.949+02:00

"...but then he saw a bear, so he started running. First he ran one kilometre to the south, and then one kilometre to the west. He was sure he had lost the bear so he walked one kilometre north, to the place where he had started running. What colour was the bear?" It was an oldie, but I was sure the guys didn't know it yet and that they would like it. "Brown?" one answered within a few seconds.

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-70456659046988218932010-09-10T23:00:00.001+02:002010-09-10T23:01:47.608+02:00

I take a care in keeping myself anonymous. Although I think most of my committed readers may have figured out my location, profession, and more, from reading between the lines, I'm grateful that you all respect my choice to not share these uninteresting data (see Anonymous blogging) and that you do not imply your knowledge more or less explicitly in your comments or your own blogs. An important

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-46733160567869812852010-09-07T23:22:00.011+02:002010-09-09T10:15:22.194+02:00

I have this plastic year pass of the national train company that gives me free travel between the city where I live and the one where I work, and free bus and underground services in either city. I pay two hundred euro a month for it. If this pass is inserted in the stamp machine of a bus, a green light flashes and the driver knows I have paid; in the tube it opens the turnstiles. On a Saturday a

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-26006601062314921702010-09-01T19:07:00.007+02:002011-10-11T00:22:07.167+02:00

Erdem (see Quest for the spark [4 of 4]) was thoroughly enjoying his well-deserved holiday in Turkey and I was convinced I had made the right decision by not telling him just before he left that I had cheated on him (see Once a cheater, twice a cheater?). It would certainly have ruined his vacation. Instead, I planned go to his place on the day he returned and before he had a chance to kiss me, I

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-11031529242545166232010-08-29T08:45:00.002+02:002010-08-29T08:49:11.435+02:00

Even though Elroy (see Mixed messages) knew I had a boyfriend, he kept sending me messages on my phone, MSN and Skype. If I didn't respond the messages grew more aggressive; if I did he claimed to have messaged me by accident. He blocked and unblocked me several times without any clear [aanleiding] and in Skype conversations he always acted very arrogant and insulted me a lot. From meeting him (

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-73862779327268890492010-08-25T19:02:00.006+02:002010-08-26T21:05:45.182+02:00

I arrived at my place in the morning, unpacked, and slept all through the afternoon, enjoying my pillow (see Once a cheater, twice a cheater?). In the evening Erdem (see Quest for the spark [4 of 4]) was going to take me out for dinner at a good Italian restaurant and I was looking forward to seeing him very much. However, I faced a dilemma. With my former two boyfriends I had this rule that if

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-61946995616770686822010-08-23T07:28:00.002+02:002010-08-23T21:22:49.759+02:00

When I returned to the hostel (see Murphy's Day) I took my MacBook to the kitchen and checked if Erdem was still online. I chatted with several guests who came home, among which were two Canadian guys. One of them had a USB stick with his favourite song and an iPod Touch without it. You can imagine his request. While my Mac was executing its self-assigned task to adjust the volume level of all

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-68905921708524513912010-08-19T18:52:00.007+02:002010-10-21T21:26:30.470+02:00

When I woke up after three days in the same city (see The burden of being hot) I decided to cross a border. I booked a dorm bed for two nights in a hostel close to a motorway in my destination city, so that it would be easy to find after an afternoon on the road. The confirmation email said I had booked two beds for two nights. I had already wondered why they had twice asked me for the number of

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-29970786798420064452010-08-13T18:45:00.002+02:002010-08-13T18:51:39.767+02:00

The evening after Erdem and I booked our September trip to Italy (see Quest for the spark [4 of 4]), I was looking for a hostel in yet another country. I had just decided on the first destination of my solo motorcycle trip that would start the next morning. When travelling alone I don't care much about luxury and privacy, but I prefer to stay in places where you can easily meet new people.

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-55519847692653564662010-08-09T23:59:00.006+02:002011-01-21T00:19:56.456+01:00

It was Wednesday evening two weeks ago. I hadn't seen Erdem for two days since I told him the spark was lacking from my side (see Quest for the spark [3 of 4]). He rang the doorbell downstairs while I was in the middle of a Skype conversation, so I opened the front door, finished the conversation and cleaned up a bit while he went up and walked in. While I put the dishes in the sink he sat down

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-45720383798832297202010-08-07T01:11:00.003+02:002010-08-07T13:05:07.713+02:00

Erdem and I were a perfect match. We had a lot of interests in common, could talk at the same level, were physically attracted to each other, and were both very comfortable to be ourselves: no pretences, no lies. In fact, we had each ranted about the things we thought made ourselves unattractive and unsympathetic at some point, but none of it made the other lose interest. Although Erdem was the

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-18516821419850327942010-08-01T03:18:00.002+02:002010-08-05T15:41:42.824+02:00

A few weeks ago I had a sex date with an eighteen-year-old black guy called Elroy (see Little nigga). In the way I chatted with him I made it very clear that we met up only for sex and that seemed to be his inclination as well. He stayed far longer than I had expected, because he liked me better than he thought the would. It's the same story with every young guy I meet. We chatted on Skype

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-23712291049033279342010-07-29T18:39:00.006+02:002010-07-31T10:08:36.307+02:00

On Thursday evening, 21 hours after our first date had ended (Quest for the spark [1 of 4]) I had another online chat with Erdem. We were both eager to meet one another again. I told him I had time all weekend except Saturday evening, because I was going to visit a friend and his girlfriend then for dinner and drinks. There was this dilemma: Since Erdem only moved to my city recently I could take

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-75366206861602353622010-07-25T21:33:00.005+02:002010-08-05T11:36:00.803+02:00

On Tuesday two weeks ago I got an introductory message from a 24-year-old guy on a dating site I frequent. He didn't publicly share any face pictures, but after exchanging a few messages he did send me one. He looked sexy, boyish and younger than his age, which was in sharp contrast with his sophisticated and well-developed interests. Our chat was nice and I suggested we meet the next evening.

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-47548958634350172192010-07-21T23:23:00.003+02:002010-07-23T07:18:06.986+02:00

In early May I met a guy on a chat site who said he was nineteen. His looks reminded me of a specific national soap actor: he was black, slightly overweight, cute, and very huggable. In the conversation he was clearly into sex talk and it was obvious he fantasised about being fucked. He seemed to have some experience too, but it seemed to me that he liked teasing older guys, enjoyed the

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-69620698380554600782010-07-15T19:54:00.008+02:002010-07-16T08:30:49.460+02:00

Thursday two weeks ago at lunchtime my colleagues noticed that I was all pale and shaking. I said I probably had another migraine coming up, but I wasn't so sure of that myself. Although I didn't feel too well, but I didn't want to go home either: there was too much work to be done and I had already taken the Friday off; I only had to survive five more hours and then I could enjoy the weekend.

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-60064394012902713832010-07-10T19:24:00.006+02:002010-07-26T23:21:36.748+02:00

When handed a Ph.D. thesis I always have a good look at the cover. It shows the degree of style, perfectionism, and creativity of the author, and often also the rush in which it had to be finished. Next I check the place of birth, the supervisor, the list of contests, and after a quick read through the summary, I always take the time to read the acknowledgments. For those who are oblivious:

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-87870856651496397072010-07-04T18:46:00.002+02:002010-07-06T09:46:30.390+02:00

In October last year, when I had this post title theme (see October 2009), I wrote a post in which I asked my readers to distinguish six unlikely truths about me from two likely falsehoods (see You don't know Jack). Just after I posted I realised that the fact about how I hate musicals was not that unlikely and that I should have replaced it with: "As a teenager I could suck my own cock, but

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-77154545545375375492010-06-30T21:44:00.007+02:002011-05-15T07:37:56.435+02:00

I've got a big work-related dilemma, which might or might not be temporary. Evan I work for a large company in the team that does the more advanced mathematical research. Two years ago the head of the team accepted a new challenge within the organisation and my colleague Evan was offered his job. Initially Evan thought he wasn't qualified for the job and might not even like it, but after the

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237825516907295473.post-28191583379432485012010-06-17T21:35:00.003+02:002010-07-05T21:04:13.177+02:00

When I moved to my current apartment three years ago I looked out on a sandy field with a dozen trees on it. It was already planned that a park would arise there that tastefully combined trees, rocks and water. Knowing about these plans I decorated my apartment such that the park would visually become a continuation of my living room and bedroom. A year ago several new trees were planted in

Jackdawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11412204057790398795noreply@blogger.com2