Jake.

"Not forgiving is like drinking rat poison and waiting for the rat to die"- Anne Lamott

I have forgiven not only you, but myself.

Friends?

Great.


Glad we had this talk.

NYC is looking pretty good.

The cheerleading team here at Missouri Valley hasn't been much to fear for the past decade or so, but all of that was to change next semester with the introduction of new instruction. We were more than fortunate to have acquired a coach that was OVERLY qualified to come and drag us from our rivals shadows and possibly make us an impervious force of excellence.

But that is no longer a possibility.

I do not know the truth behind Coach G's decision to turn down his position as coach, but I'll tell you what I think happened.

About 2 weeks ago, our Open Gym practices were canceled because a parent felt that they were unsafe, even though myself and two others on squad are NCA and UCA staff members. This unnamed mother has been known to cause unneeded drama in the name of her daughter for the squad before. Well, this uber concerned parent claims that her daughter was dropped during one of these practices (which is total bullshit, btw) and proceeded to call the NEW coach who had stepped on campus, as coach, only twice and who was not present on campus, residing in St. Louis. She berates him for such irresponsibility and then magically he quits.

hmmmm. I draw no conclusions, yet state what I know.

I am angered beyond belief and saddened to no end.

So, since I was scolded for posting my opinion on Facebook, I shall also show restraint here.


I find that it more than hurtful that petty drama and inappropriate actions have driven this school and team from glory.

I cannot say that I will continue to seek my education here.

NYC is looking pretty good.

Chuck Anderson

There are things and people in life that inspire creativitiy within your immediate being and 'cause a great stir in your wanting to express yourself artistically. That person, for me, is Graphic Designer, Chuck Anderson. Most of the artwork on this blog was done by him. He has an exception feel for shapes, lines and colors. I am floored by his genius. Take a look at some of his work...

Please inquire within

Sitting here watching Monday Night Raw with my boys and having a bruski, I realize that if I were not to settle, there really aren't a lot of men that I would really be a good match with.

I'm not a typical gay, at all.

I don't smoke weed or do any drugs and I don't want to be with a guy that does...this ALONE divides the male population by 3/4

I fucking love beer. Most gays don't.

I watch The WWE and am a hardcore fanatic and I don't think I could ever find another guy to share in that fanaticism.

I hang with a lot of straight dudes and being so, I would need for my bf to able to seamlessly blend with these guys...which most gays dudes could not.

I don't like gay bars or large groups of rainbow riders as they tend to start unnecessary drama and annoy me.

So, basically, I can either become straight or remain alone...

LOVE IT!

VIVA LA SOLITUDE!

Good Head.

is so very hard to find.

Last night: Randoms

So, I'm thinking that it's important to be happy in life which is why I am not ashamed for farting on you during your slumber last night. You made the cutest face and woke up so confused. Bliss.

I am glad that we sat in the car and sang N*sync for almost an hour while drinking every time Justin sang.

I am glad that we showed up to the softball game hammered and yelled obscenities at the Dean of Students.

I found it hilarious that you hit on Chey and she shot you down. "you're just a baby" lmao.

YOU'RE NOT A VIRGIN ANYMORE! (slut)

I'm glad you got me to go to the Crush Party last night, I had fun.

I'm proud of myself for kissing you. Someone had to.

I'm glad I have the best friends.

Here's to tonight, may our debaucheries continue!

MASSIVE ATTACK!

I cannot get enough of Nicki Minaj!!!!!

BOOOOOOO!!

Yo Keys,
I bet that you're so very grateful that a chick like Nickie exists. For should she not be the best, you'd have no one to attempt to latch onto to gain a little exposure. Nickie is on her Barbie shit focused on success and self-betterment. I have no choice but to believe that you are envious of her success, green is not a good color on you, yet I doubt that anything is. Why don't you do yourself a favor and take your ass to the middle of the dessert where she just finished shooting a $500,000 video and run a few laps in the heat, might do that ass some good.
And you completely lack charisma, you're a boring ass raper and except for the fact that you're attempting to address someone of actual notoriety, NO ONE would hear you failed attempt at stardom. Hop two squares back and try again bitch. Try some originality, hating will only get you so far...like youtube far.

Tennis!

I'm obsessed with it! I've played everyday since the weekend for hours at a time! I can't believe that I ever stopped playing! GET SOME JAMES BLAKE! I'M COMING FOR DAT ASS!

Stop.

This blog was my way out. Yet now it's become just another FUCKING DAGGER in which you pierce me with. I wish you would just go away. Lee Martian...LAME! FUCKING LAME! Why hide behind falsehoods? What was your purpose? Are you getting some kind of gratification from my pain? Does it thrill you to read through my anguish? As I can recall "[you] do enjoy reading [my] confessions of personal treks of love". That makes you a dick. YOU'RE A DICK. I'm ranting, again. I'm angry with you, again.

You're such a fucking trick.

You tricked me into loving you.
You tricked me into unhinging myself for you.
You tricked me into changing for you.
You tricked me into reading your fucking, shitty blog.
You tricked me into wanting more from you.

I do read your blog, I know that you know that I do. It hurts to know that you're ALREADY hanging out with new guys. WHAT THE FUCK! Please just go away. It's more than evident that you're over me and your heart does not yearn. MINE YET BLEEDS! But, it cannot heal because I'm so fucking STUPID! In my head, all will soon be as it was. But I'm stupid and you're an evil fucking whore. Ugh, even calling you names doesn't work.

I just want to be rid of you.

I want to put you behind me so that I can replace you with someone worthy of my thoughts and affection.

I don't wish you the best.

I wish upon you, what you've inflicted upon me.

I hope that one day, a beautiful stranger will TRICK you into love and then rip away all that was beautiful to you.

Then, when you're at your worst, I hope that you remember me. And then I hope you die.

Okay, don't die.

Just hurt...a lot.

The Red Carnation Ball

Every year my fraternity throws a gala type ball that we call RCB, The Red Carnation Ball. I had never been and was looking forward to taking you to it this year. We were to take the dance floor as the first gay couple to ever have gone. The ball is tonight. All of my brothers have left to spend two days in bliss with friends and one significant other. Yet, I am here. I could have chosen to go with an anxious sorority girl, but what would be the point. All night I'd sit there wishing she was you. Maybe I'll throw on something nice and dance the night away in my dorm alone...wishing, missing, you.

Chance Encounter 2.4

Misadventures of a Xender King

"Did you call Seth?" I ask Blit on our way to Subway. "No, why, was I supposed to call him?" "Yeah, I thought that you were suppose to go out with him tonight?" "Yeah, but why would I need to call him, I'm meeting him a Alaska's at Six." "Well, because it's 6:15." I inform her. "Shit! Oh fuck'n shit, you've got to be shitting me." "Ha ha, say shit again." "SHIT." We laugh. "I have to go, I'll call you later." She jets across the street and back up towards her apartment. I continue our quest to Subway alone. The line at Subway was ridiculous as usual. I must have spent a good fifteen minutes in line, counting the tiles on the ceiling. "Yeah, can I get a five dollar footlong please, on Italian." "What would you like on that, sir." I'm asked. "Ham and turkey, with lettuce and tomato, and uh, honey mustard. I don't need it toasted, please and thanks betch." She looks at me, not smiling. It's fun to fuck with the people who work at Subway, they hate their job and it's nice to put a smile on their face with a random insult. It's also nice that they prepare your food right in front of you so they can't spit in it.

Taking my usual seat by the window, so people walking by can look at me, I begin to day dream about Emmanuel. Some day, and some day soon, we'll lay together on some beach in California, soaking up the sun and each other. I'll roll over to him and kiss him, his lips will be soft like satin and his touch will set my senses on fire with desire and lust. He'll whisper my name into the warm breeze and we'll make love, leaving behind the cares of our world. I can smell the beach, I can feel the sand. I'm insane. I'll most likely be serving Manny and his boyfriend 'sex on the beach's' at Alaska's, working double shifts so I can support my collections of rabid cats. UGH. My sandwich is gone. Food is so depressing.

I guzzle the remaining lemonade and sprite hybrid left in my cup and discard them in the trash bin, and head out. "Hey!" I turn around. "You left this on your table." It was my cell-phone. I had been so busy day-dreaming, I had left it. "Oh shit, thanks man." "No, problem. You're lucky I'm a good guy." I chuckled. "Well, yes, I guess I am." Is he flirting? I chuckle again. "Cute giggle." Yep. Flirting. "It's actually a chuckle." "What?" he asks. "Well, women giggle. Men chuckle." "Oh really, are you sure that's not up for interpretation? I think chuckles are reserved for the elderly and the obese." I laugh. "I couldn't help but notice the screensaver on your phone. I guess you're a huge Chris Evans fan?" If there's one thing that you should know about me, Dexter, as a gay man, is that I would do ANYTHING to meet Chris Evans. In my opinion, he's the epitome of hot man candy. Amazing sense of humor and even more amazing biceps makes Chris Evans the celeb of my dreams. "Yeah, sure, he's okay." I respond. "Yeah, he's pretty okay looking. I'm not really into the whole pretty boy thing, well that is until I handed one his lost phone." I laugh inside, that was cute. He was cute, he was mixed with what looked like black and white. He had hazel eyes and impeccable teeth, he was a tad bit shorter than I was but he made up for it with his slightly muscular body. Hmm. Cute.

Chance Encounter 2.3

Misadventures of a Xender King

"Lunch." "What? Who is this?" Blit replies. "Lets do lunch." "Who the hell is this?" "It's Dexter, Blit. Why haven't you saved my number yet?" "OH." The phone goes dead. I was pretty sure that she just hung up on me. I call back. "Hey, why did you hang up on me?" The phone goes dead again. I hate her. I walk back to my dorm.

Walking onto the third floor of Graham Hall, I notice that my door is open. I immediately freak, because I have a Ps3 and brand new laptop that I really can't afford to replace should they be stolen. I increase my walking pace to a skip-like jog. Popping from my doorway, scaring the hell out of me, is a rather skinny, very sunburnt, kid with curly blonde hair. "Are you Dexter?" He asks. I look pass him into my room, where all of my things seem to still be intact. "Yeah, and you are?" "I'm Clutch. Well, my real name is Brian Clutchins, but everyone calls me Clutch." He wore an old baseball cap that was garnished with signatures written in permanent marker and a gold pendant. "Nice hat." I commented. "Thanks, my friends made this for me when I left Texas." "Oh, okay, cool." I said. "Do you need any help moving things in?" I asked, trying to seem selfless. "Nope, this is uh pretty much all of it." The room was taking shape. It was your basic 4 walled room, painted white to give it a feeling of neutrality, but only made it seem medicinal. Between Clutch and I, the walls were now completely covered. I had posters of my favorite bands like Dashboard Confessionals, and Switchfoot. I also had a poster of the cast of Roseanne, but only because that's a badass show and I'll defend it's honor to the death. Clutch, on the other hand, covered his side of the room with cars. Car posters, models of cars, girls in bikinis on cars, he even had a poster of the Pixar movie "CARS". "Wow, obsessed much." I said feeling a little molested by his overabundance of Model-t figurines. "Ha ha, yeah. In the words of the legendary Ricky Bobby 'I wanna go fast'. ha ha, YEAH!" "Oh god" I thought. This kid is fuck'n nuts. "So, what's your obsession man?" Clutch asked. I paused to think. This was the moment that would set the course for the entire year. I had two choices. I could respond, engaging him in conversation that could possibly lead to friendship. Or I could cut him off now and not have six hour conversations about alternators or head gaskets, or whatever these people talk about. "Uhm, I'm really into rough anal." I think that's a happy medium between the two. He just looked at me for a couple of seconds. I cracked a smile, feeling bad for him. I'm sure he was just trying to be nice. "Oh, ha! You're funny." He said, sounding relieved that I was kidding. Well, i was kind of kidding. "I do what I can. So why cars? Why not naked chicks or bulldogs?" "Uh, those things are cool, there's really nothing better than a naked chick wrestling a bulldog, well, NOTHING BUT CARS! ha ha ha, YEAH!" I laughed. He really was crazy, but the kind of crazy that's tolerable and entertaining.

Blit finally showed up, hungry. "Lets do lunch." she said. "Blit, I called you two hours ago asking you to come get lunch with me." "Oh, yeah, I know, but I was busy at the time. So you wanna go get something now?" "Ugh, fine. Let me get my jacket." "Who's the white person?" "Oh, Blit this is Clutch, my roommate." "Hey Whitey." Blit says quite racistly. Clutch laughed looking up from his ginormous bowl of cereal. "Hey." he said, spitting Lucky Charms everywhere. "Hey, we're going down to the plaza to eat, did you need anything?" "No, I'm good man, thanks." Clutch replied, spitting more. I closed my door.

Chance Encounter 2.2

Misadventures of a Xender King

The class proved not to be a total waste of my afternoon. I couldn't really focus on what the instructor was instructing because of the amazing drama that was unfolding next to me. To the left of me sat a couple who were fighting through a series of text messages and hilarious grunting noises. The girl, blonde, and well dressed, seemed to be winning the argument. Her face was calm, and she sat quietly at her desk. On the other hand, the boyfriend, brunette and clothed in sweatpants and a university tee, was sweating and blood red, typing furiously into his Blackberry. He was shifting constantly in his chair and made the oddest verbal disapprovals to his lady's texts. "Blah. Psshhhh. Oh Yeah. Really? Ha! Whatev." At one point, he got so agitated, that he knocked his text books off his desk, which he seemed determined to let lay in some odd way of displaying to his chick that he was much too manly to even care about knocking his own books to the floor. The entire class was hypnotized. The professor remained completely ignorant to the fight, which was another delight of mine, because each time the boyfriend made a noise, those around him who were listening would snicker. Professor Acay interpreted the laughter as the students mocking him. His frustrations grew along with the now hysterical boyfriend. Near the end the fifty minute class, the boyfriend got up from his desk, and, for a lack of a better term, IT WAS ON! "Are you kidding me Leah? After 11 months of being together?! Seriously? This is how you decide to end this? "Please take your seat, Mr. Williams." Demanded Acay. "You're breaking up with me over text messages? This is bullshit," He continued. "I'm not going to ask you again, take your SEAT." Acay was now yelling. This kid was yelling. I was falling out of my chair from laughter. "You're really embarrassing yourself Chad," Leah stated. "You really should just sit down." She was egging him on. "Fuck you Leah, you know, I was THIS close to proposing to you." OOOOOO shit! the was soo much better than I thought it was going to be. "THIS close Leah, this fuck'n close." His anger shifted. There were now tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Oh, don't cry, I thought. There goes the fun. She began to laugh. Oops, fun's back. "You're so gay chad." Leah teased. During their public altercation Acay had disappeared into his office which was connected to the classroom.

The class atmosphere had also shifted with Chad. At first, it was fun watching them fight and watching Chad nearly stroke in the middle of a lecture, but now it was like watching a mentally challenged man beat and molest a small animal. We all just kind of wanted to walk away and never speak of what we had seen. This guy was really hurt. The thrill was gone for good. Acay came back into the class telling Chad that campus security were now on their way. Chad didn't move. He just looked at Leah, who retained her statue like composure. She held a smirk on her face as she asked Professor Acay could she be excused. "Sure dear," he answered. She gathered her things and walked out. Chad still stood there, looking at the empty desk that now lay before him.

Chance Encounter: Chapter 2

Misadventures of a Xender King

"So let me get this straight, you've been here for two days and already you've gotten some ass. Imma start a poll on how long it takes for you to catch something and die." These amazing words of friendship would be from my best friend Blit. She's quite pretty when she takes the time to care. Blit's about five foot eleven. She's light skinned, she has brown eyes that are to die for and pretty pink lips. She did a little modeling her Senior year of High School, but quit due to her opposition to conforming to society, A.K.A she wasn't putting weave in her hair. Her real name is Blittan, her parents are like these Jehovah Witness hippy freaks, but totally lovable. I met Blit in High school. We both were into theatre and we took a few other classes together. "Ha ha."I responded hoping she caught the sarcasm. "You know Dex, I really think that you should be careful. I know that I give you shit about being a whore, but I'm really just looking out for myself. If you do get AIDS or some other abbreviated disease, who's going to have to take care of you? That's right, me. And i don't want-" "Blit,"I said, interrupting what I'm sure would have a been a very selfless speech, "I'd love to sit here and let you attempt to demolish my day, but I really have to get to class, I'll text you when I'm out." I stood there by my door waiting for her to leave so I could lock it and go to Principles of Psychology. "I have to lock my door." I said impatiently. "Oh, well, you may lock you door Dexter. Didn't know you needed my verbal consent, but I'm proud of you for asking." ugh. "No Blit, I can't leave you in here, my roommate will be moving in today and it may be a little confusing having you in here without me." "Well DAMN, you 'aint got to yell and shit." "Thank you," I said closing my door behind her. "I'll text you later so we can get lunch." "Eat shit and die fag," she said walking away. "Okay, I'll be out around 2:30, so be ready." "Okay, subway?" She asks "Sure."

It was nice outside, the quad was congested with new students fumbling around looking for their classes. I was smarter than that. I did a run through of where my classes were the moment I got my schedule. I had been facebooking a few current students before I got here, and they told me to know where I was going and not to ask anyone for directions. Apparently it was rather fun to send freshman around the campus on wild goose, well, class hunts. As I got closer to my class, I noticed that the instructor was closing his door. Was I late? I started walking a little faster reaching the door right before it clicked shut. "Name?" he asked. "I'm sorry, what?" "Your name, what-what is your name?" He asked again. "Dexter." "Yes, and..." "Oh, sorry. Peebles. Dexter Peebles." "Well, Mr.Peebles, I'm assuming you're a freshman, so I'll let this slide this once, but DO NOT show up late to my class again. Comprende?" "Okay." "You're in college now ladies and gentleman, lets act like it." Walking to the first empty desk with my tail between my legs, I tried my damnedest to avoid eye contact with anyone. I sat through class the entire time just praying for it to be over. In High School, I waltzed into class whenever I wanted, the teachers loved me. Well it became very evident VERY quickly that this was NOT high school.

Chance Encounter 1.4

Misadventures of a Xender King

It's really bright. What is that? Why is it so-omg. I had forgotten that I fell asleep in Vincent's bed. But where was he? It didn't matter, all I had to do now was leave the room without waking his sleeping room...Emmanuel? Seriously? Of all the roommates that he could have. I swear, sometimes I have either the worst luck EVER, or just impeccable terrible timing. It was unbelievable, there he was, sleeping in nothing but some burgundy and white Abercrombie boxers. Even in a altered realm of consciousness he still was gorgeous. I slowly pulled the covers from me, grabbing my pants off the floor and trying my best to tip-toe to the door, Scooby Doo style. Closing the door behind me, I realized that "Fuck!" I left my brothers Dog tags on his desk. I had taken them off last night due to them constantly smacking "Moaning Vincent" in the chin region during a little face-to-face bed shaking. I thought about going back in and just swiping them off the desk and leaving. They're the only thing of true value that I own. UGH! Gay. This is so gay. Maybe I'll just ask Vincent to get them for me later tonight. Yeah, yeah, I like that, let's do that