mkf offers a couple helpful hints

while this blog garners few comments, i do get emails--boy, do i get emails.  which is somewhat understandable since, judging from their tone, the majority of these emails come from folks who wouldn't be caught dead publicly commenting on a blog such as mine.

said emails fall roughly into three categories:  the ones condemning me to gay hell for taking exception to my politics; the ones accusing me of making shit up (as if, were anyone to take the time and trouble to construct the elaborate fantasy life of which i am so often accused, it would be this one); and, last but not least--and the subject of this post--the ones from closet fans asking for help in transforming their sad, sexless middle-aged selves into perpetually priapic love machines like the mysterious mkf.

*sigh*

it's not that i don't wanna help other men achieve this exalted plane from which i gaze down upon you mere mortals, it's more like i honestly dunno how much help i can be.  because, you gotta understand, i'm very different in some key respects from most men you'll come across.

see, most men--and, i mean, throughout history, and regardless of the degree of wealth, power, talent, intellect, accomplishment or romantic prowess to which they might lay claim--seem incapable of escaping obsession with their shortcomings in at least one (and usually more) of the following areas:

• baldness
• penis size
• body dysmorphia
• loss of vitality and virility with age

and, while i wish i could say i relate (oh who am i kidding; no, i don't), here's how mkf deals with each of the above manly existential crises:

baldness:  the realization i was losing it roughly and, for a minute, happily coincided with the introduction of rogaine to the market--until, after a quick calculation revealed to my then-broke ass that it would be either rogaine or cable, it was really no contest.  because like going bald should be my biggest goddam problem.

penis size:  what can i say--other than a regrettable early surgical choice in which i had no say, i wouldn't change a goddam thing.

body dysmorphia:  i gaze, naked, into the mirror at my doughy face, sagging posture, pasty skin and childbearing hips, and say to myself, "damn, you've got a big dick."

loss of vitality and virility with age:  again, what can i say--use it or lose it, motherfuckers.


but fuck most men--let's get back to gay men.  because, in addition to the above, so many of our little tribe seem condemned to eventually and inevitably face a special hell reserved only for us; namely, loneliness, isolation and sexual starvation once we've passed our prime.

and, again, i dunno how much help i can be in this regard, because staving off this inevitability seems to come naturally to me (so far), but if you're one of those who really wants to extend your dumbass adolescence into middle age, then i'll do my best to give you some pointers.

next time.

[sorry, got too chatty, lost the point and ran outta steam.  been happening a lot lately.]