Fat! Fat! Like a water rat!

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Well, that was Herbie Popnecker.

Seems to be a day, night when I describe the worst effects of my four years with that sweet, foolish, self-destructive nelly gay guy, Charles. As bad as it has been I'll never be able to begrudge the day I heard that Southern femme gay male voice on the phone. If your sexuality is normative then you'll never be able to understand how this portion of my erotic spectrum is rare. And feminine gay men are rare nowadays (and those that are about are mostly too damn young!).

I was lifting weights and riding my bicycle constantly when I met Charles. To be in as good a physical condition as possible was my goal. Mostly for my own sake. Live as long and as well as possible (since there don't appear to be reruns or sequels up for option). When I started being desirable to a sexual partner wasn't even an afterthought. But the revival of my physical wellbeing brought about a revival of my libido and its unfortunate partner my romantic nature (shouldn't have read those Celtic love stories in high school I guess).

Charles ate crap. Charles eats crap. Like a fool I let that modify my own behavior. And I became inactive, sluggish.

Nobody would want me. I wouldn't expect them to (and I deeply regret damaging your eroticization of me).

So I've got barbells and dumbbells to lift. Hours on my bike to ride. To get back to what I was before I met the love that should've kept its mouth shut.

So I've bought a heaping helping of protein powder and will grab a few pounds of flax seed to grind and eat (really for that I do need a Domme with pet fantasies).

Time will pass, the excess fat will metabolize away. What a stupid thing to have done to myself. There are sweet, loving people I could meet. But until I render myself acceptable then I must just work and wait.


putting two and two together, i guess if you are in a situation where the significant other is not devoted to sex, then i can see how “letting oneself go” would be inevitable. now this is not to blame your fatty state on charles. all i am saying is that I myself, feel more up to getting in shape when i am out hunting. i guess i am always at a race against time. i have my camera and i need to record what time is doing to me. in a sense, time is my mate and bed partner. i stay in shape for time.

i’m rambling. i guess what i’m saying is, you can only stay in shape for someone that demands you to stay in shape.

and time DEFINITELY demands that!


I didn’t do a good job on this one. I starting drinking too much beer to deaden by sexuality. When I drink, I eat too much. That is how I wound up with a belly that I have to get rid of.

Obviously I should’ve left Charles before I let that happen.

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Fat! Fat! Like a water rat!
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