Nebulose

Emotional Storm

2005-08-24T23:22:00.000+02:00

Something incredible happened to me today. I was watching the final episode of Six Feet Under, one of my favorite TV shows, and I experienced the most intense catharsis ever. Now, I'm not usually the type of person who sniffles when they see E.T. for the hundredth time... I even sat through the entire 3 hours of Breaking the Waveswithout a single tear. And that's just sadness upon sadness that escalates into a great big ball of sad in the end. That's Dogma '95 for you. Anyway, I started crying and couldn't stop for almost an hour... And a beatiful song is played, something called Sia: Breathe Me. I don't know why but I just started sobbing and an intense emotional storm descended on me...

I guess part of it was when I got a flashback about my father who died a few years ago... The weird thing is I only saw him maybe 5 times in my entire life but I still felt very sad. It's like when he was alive, I always knew there was a possibility I might get to know him one day but when he died, the finality of his absence was what got to me. And that show, with all its flashbacks and death and family issues, really resonated with me I guess - and the final crescendo caused my emotional outbreak. Perhaps I will speak more about that some other time... I was just glad my muc was there to comfort me (he thought I was having a psychotic episode).

Personally, I think that's the most powerful ending to an excellent show... I mean, sure, they kinda wandered off in Season 3 but they got back on track and wrapped the whole thing up in style. I was surprised to read this bad NY Times review of the season finale... It really did blow me away, as the producers promised.... Oh, and I might be in love with Claire.

UPDATE: I found a blog that offers that song for download... Go get it before they shut her down...

Zale

2005-08-23T19:02:00.000+02:00

I met P. today for lunch and he asked me (for the hundredth time) to take more photos of him looking all mean and thuggy. And since we've done this so many times, and he keeps coming back for more, I'm slowly running out of places to take photos of him in. Well, today I had an interesting idea - why not go to the city cemetery. That place has some awesome architecture built by our most famous architect, Jozef Plecnik, and I can take some nice photos there. So we went there and the day was really nice after a loooong time. If you've been watching the weather for this part of the world, you know that we've been having floods and landslides all over Europe throughout the summer, but Slovenia has been lucky enough to escape any serious flooding until last week. Well, today was maybe the third sunny day in a month and we had some really nice white clouds in the blue sky. Anyway, here is a couple of photos from today's afternoon walk.

Today's bit of Barcelona

2005-08-16T00:53:00.000+02:00

So I was walking around in Barcelona, in the Bario Gótico one day, and I happened upon a curious sight. A priest is blessing a man kneeling before him, with two people watching and another priest coming from the background. A moment of silent worship - OR DARKROOM SEX PARTY? The group of men in this statue seem to be involved in something very fishy indeed... We see the curious position of the man leaning into the priest to get a better look at what was going on... and the man on the right not sure whether to join the action or watch from a distance... And another priest just coming up the steps behind him to check out the action...

So that makes me wonder - how old is the darkroom phenomenon anyway? And was it ever made timeless by artists like this? Sure, to an untrained eye it could pass as something completely ordinary - but to the ones who are in on the secret...? You know, there had to be something going on behind those seminary walls before they invented video that causes scandals these days. I'm sure the sex scandals we see today were just as common in the past, except there was no device able to capture and document the sins as they took place. Maybe this statue was the artist's way of shooting a porn video to commemorate a particularly hot sex party in St. George's last Sunday, a kind of 18th century "St. Polten record" Looks like the Church really is the world's biggest and oldest gay club...

1995: An Echo From The Past

2005-08-14T21:51:00.000+02:00

I was 17 and reluctantly dealing with my sexuality issues. I'd always been a bit of a geek, owning a computer since early childhood - first a Commodore 64, then IBM XT, then AT 286 computer... And it was about that time that the internet first hit Slovenia. And when I discovered a little chat client called mIRC, I was hooked in an instant. The chance to chat with people halfway around the globe for hours without worrying about huge bills... it was wild! I found my way to DALNET and happened upon a little gay channel called #gaygifs. Pretty soon, I started talking to the people there and we hit it off great.
So great, in fact, that during the first week, I slept 7 hours in 5 days because I was up all night smoking cigarettes and chatting with people and then straight to school without sleeping. Initially, the channel was a source of gay porn pics for me. But soon it became a place where I could talk to other gay men about what it was like to actually live as a gay person. So I decided to stick around and I became a regular. Pretty soon, I was offered the position of the channel op, which I gladly accepted and became the channel's youngest op.

I met some of the friendliest and fun people on that channel and it was probably thanks to #gaygifs that I came out as early as I did (19). Chatting was very different then - people actually spoke in the main channel and there was a lot more going on than strictly business which seems to be the practice nowadays. These days, conversations seem to all follow the same course - How old are you? Where are you now? Do you have a pic? People today are initiating conversations with acronyms like "ASL???" which means "age/sex/location" before even saying hello. Things were different on #gaygifs. We would joke around and have fun the whole time, discuss music, guys, relationships, current affairs and politics, and trading pictures on the side. Chimera, RickTX, GEO-Austin, SeanG, yng-guy, these were some of the names I remember from those early days of the internet. I still check the channel now and then, but the old crowd are mostly gone... I'm lucky if I catch yng-guy or RickTX online and they tell me the channel is different now. There's no real connection anymore. I consider myself lucky that I was able to form real relationships with some of these people, even though I never met most of them personally. I will never forget that first contact with the gay world, and the way it provided a friendly environment for me during that time.

Chimera

2005-08-13T23:57:00.000+02:00

Chimera, if you can read this, please send me an email with your address... I'd really like to talk to you again and catch up on things!

xox

Back from Spain

2005-08-13T23:11:00.000+02:00

Well, we arrived home last night and I finally got around to sorting through all the photos I've taken in Spain. Some of them turned out pretty good and some of them looked great on the little LCD display but turned out to be crap on the screen. Oh well. I'll try to post some of the good ones here and in some later posts.

I already miss Spain. One of the things that really pleased me was the fact that the people there seem to be so incredibly open to gay people. We saw gay couples holding hands, kissing and flirting all around Barcelona and Sitges and nobody ever gave it a second glance. Muc and I felt comfortable holding hands and walking around, kissing in public, and everything. It just isn't a problem over there. It felt very liberating. Unfortunately, this is something we will not be able to do in Slovenia for some time, especially with our new government. Maybe we'll just move there one day. In Spain, it is clear that the high popular support for gay marriages is not just the result of their new liberal government but rather a reflection of the people's genuine support. Even on as we were boarding the bus from the airport to the center of Barcelona, we spotted a cute Spanish gay couple and we exchanged looks all the way to the Plaça Catalunya and then they kissed and waved at us and we went our separate ways. That was such a nice welcome to Spain!

Actually, Barcelona is full of really hot guys. Of course, the hottest guys were straight. For example, one day, as we were waiting in line for the pedestrian drawbridge to realign itself and let us across to the marina, we spotted this mysterious piece of eye candy.

The above is actually all we ever saw of the mysterious hottie because despite my best efforts to snake my way through the crowd past the guy to get a frontal view, scores of fat tourists obstructed my way and finally I just lost him. But I did manage to see that he was holding hands with his girlfriend. Sigh... To add insult to injury, not long after this guy we saw a breakdance show at the Rambla featuring a group of athletic guys doing all sorts of acrobatics. We clawed our way through the crowd to get a closer look and our jaws dropped and hit the pavement as we saw what was clearly the most perfect male physique in the flesh. One of my friends, a med student, said that that guy could easily model for the anatomic atlas. I'll let you be the judge.

Even my mother gasped when she saw that photo.

However, these were not the only acrobatic performers we saw in Barcelona. One day, as we were having coffee in one of the little cafés of the Barrio Gótico, suddenly a group of guys start to clap their hands and before we knew what was going on, they were jumping all over the place, mounting each other, doing somersaults, headstands, cartwheels, climbing lamp-posts etc. While this was quite impressive, it looked like their show was part of a pickpocketting scheme because suddenly some onlookers started chasing the acrobats who were gone as suddenly as they'd come, with a few tourists chasing after them. After checking our pockets, we just sat back and enjoyed the rest of our coffee, pondering the intricate tactics of Spanish pickpockets...

As long as we're on the subject of pickpockets, the ones in Spain seem to be the most notorious. I've heard stories of the most sophisticated ways of thievery, ranging from the classic ball-and-three-cups scam to credit card duplication, and actual muggings. Another friend of ours had his backpack stolen from under his feet while three of his friends were sitting around him in a cafe full of people and nobody noticed anything. Beaches, internet cafes, and the Rambla seem to be the most likely targets. So take all the warnings you see around you seriously.

Ok, I'll let this be it for this post. Buena noches!

Barcelona Update

2005-08-10T17:17:00.000+02:00

And so we are fast approaching the end of our stay in this wonderful city. We only have a little over one full day left in Barcelona, and then we are catching the plane back. The weather is kinda crappy today so I have a little more time for posting.

After the bullfight, we saw another incredible part of Spanish culture. And this particular one blew my socks off! Naturally, I am talking about the Flamenco. We saw an incredible show in a Moorish-style restaurant complete with an indoor fountain, marble arches, mosaics, carved walls etc.

If anyone is interested, it was at a place called the Cordobas on the port end of the Rambla. And the band of performers looked like a closely-knit gypsy community, with lots of silent communication passing between them as the show progressed. There was much fiery stamping of the feet, guttural singing, beautiful and worldwise women, and sangria was served all around. The atmosphere this created was more than worth the 30 Euro ticket we paid to get in. Here are some pictures from the event...

On a different note, I should say that Barcelona looks like it's secretly become colonized by the French. Seriously, it's all you hear spoken in the streets! And what's worse, the cute gay boys in bars and at the gorgeous sandy beaches all turn out to be French in the end. And we haven't been able to figure out the right moves to use on them to initiate contact. In Sitges as well as here in Barcelona, it has been all but impossible to meet French boys - basically everyone we ever saw around -and it is my suspicion that they have some secret and sophisticated flirting ritual hardwired into them. This is evident from the fact that we saw several groups of these French guys, and they only seemed to talk and mingle amongst themselves, never with the locals or, heaven forbid, other tourists. And we are used to getting a lot more attention than this. Muc has actually decided to do away with his most cherished treasure next time we come to Spain, just to attract some more attention. I am talking about his spikey faux-hawk, of course.

Another phenomenon we haven't really been able to observe up close was bears. I have always been a secret admirer of these hunky creatures, but they seem to have an even stricter set of mating rules than the French boys. And a hierarchy seems to be very pronounced. I could observe them from up close (although they never even gave me a first glance, much less a second)at the gay beach in Sitges. They seemed to be the only ones really getting any action around there - excepting the desperate lurkers at darkrooms and foam parties... All the hottest boys wanted to be around them and they stood around in small circles on the beach, talking about things bears talk about when posing for the rest of us, patting each other on the back, feeling each other's biceps, and giggling merrily like schoolgirls (well, they might pass off as manly men to the untrained eye but it doesn't take more than a few minutes for an interested party to figure out that they're just as queeny as the savras, if not more). And on top of it all, most of these bears were really les ours français, which made them all the less approachable.

You know, someone once told me that the bears were the friendliest of all the gay subgroups... That someone obviously hasnt been to Sitges.

And so, I have come to the conclusion that the places where the šavras hang out, as awful as they can be, actually have the most relaxed atmosphere and the level of control one has to exert over one's own actions to fit in is much lower. So, I take it all back. I officially love the šavras for all their queeniness and fluff - at least theyre having fun.

The Bullfight

2005-08-08T19:25:00.000+02:00

First of all, I should say that I am very much against cruelty to animals. But since we are in Spain and since the bulls were going to die anyway, we decided to take the opportunity to go and see an actual live Spanish bullfight. And it was certainly an experience... I saw six heavyweight bulls get impaled with humongous swords in front of a roaring audience, vomiting blood and finally buckling under their own weight. And then the triumphant torrero walked around the arena, showered by the traditional red roses and ladies' fans, and the somewhat less traditional baseball cap or even the odd pair of sunglasses. Anyway, I will try to post some photos from the bullfight later, i got some pretty good shots...

Right now, I have to log off as i'm running low on internet credit again and i might get disconnected before this post is over... so stay tuned...

UPDATE:
As promised, here are some shots from the bullfight...

i am BACK!

2005-08-06T21:46:00.000+02:00

After a really long time I decided it was time to start writing again. And since I have nothing better to do at this time, I might as well post an update on my life... I'm going to leave a lot of it and maybe save some stuff for later posts... So let me start this off by telling you where I am right now...

The answer is -- BARCELONA! The fabled Catalan city of the Sagrada Familia, and more importantly, home of the guapos! I've already spent 10 days in Spain, 6 of which were in the sinful coastal town of Sitges where the streets are packed with hot guys. I will not bore you with my shameless exploits (simply because I am working very hard to erase them from my memory)in the town but let me just say that I left the town with my reputation gone... I can never go back... Not for another year at least :)

Since I'm on a timer, I'm only going to share one last bit of information with you. I am staying in one of the seediest neighborhoods of Barcelona, the Raval... and the way to my hotel is really scary, with fat hoochie mamas standing around street corners shouting things like "Oy Lolito!" at me as they slap their glorious behinds... Brrr!

Now I have to get ready for yet another night of shameful drunkenness and then we're off to Salvation, this town's main club... More info later... Hopefully.

Nothing To Wear!

2005-03-04T23:49:00.000+01:00

I just felt like saying this real quick. Even though I am too tired to go out tonight, I am now being pressured by Izzy to go. And he's applying the most subtle passive-aggressive moves on me. Well, depends on what you consider subtle -- he hung up on me when I told him I was too tired to go out and obviously, that made me feel guilty because we'd kinda been talking about going out all week... and so I gave in. And this brings me to my point de jour - or point de la semaine, given my dry writing spell. Anyway.

Rummaging through my closet, I have come to a horrifying conclusion -- I have nothing to wear! Now, I know that statement might be part of every gay man's active vocabulary, but I honestly don't notice that so much. Tonight, I did. And I really have to do some shopping soon. And I avoid shopping like the plague, it drives me crazy. But a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Weekly report

2005-02-26T22:41:00.000+01:00

As you have noticed, I haven't written much in the past week. The reason for this, of course, is that I've been playing too much World of Warcraft. I realize that's a common phenomenon and I'm really trying to take it in small doses but it's just such a stunning game! I took a screenshot where I was enjoying a romantic moment watching the sunset from a hilltop overlooking the swamp. And there are some more incredible shots I'll be posting later.

Anyway, not much else has happened over the week but my usual routine - except I got back my graduation paper from the professor, with corrections, and it looks like i'm almost ready to defend it in front of a committee - which means I'll finally graduate! I hope I'll be able to hand it in by Monday.

Last night, we went out with Izzy, Tilion and Martin and N1ke, for another drunken night of frolicking at the infamous Tiffany (just ask Gromek!). It was actually Tilion's and Izzy's first time at Tiffany and we kept all the would-be suitors at bay, of course. We can't have them corrupting our innocent boys just yet. There will be plenty time for that later. There was more lambada going on, and Tilion and I tried on a move we learned from World of Warcraft - I'll try to post a screenshot of what that looks like later.

So much for now. I'll try to be more frequent in my updates in the future. Peace out, dawgs!

Curiosity Killed the Cat

2005-02-22T23:38:00.000+01:00

Apparently, the information age has brought the use of computers to the broadest possible public. Nowadays, it is not uncommon to see messages from people you haven't heard from in ages to suddenly appear in your inbox because they found it by googling your name. In this brave new world of communications, life is so convenient you never really have to leave your house or interact with actual people anymore. You can do all of your stuff by pressing a few keys on your keyboard. And nowadays, instead of having to go through the uncomfortable process of meeting in real life, we put together profiles, post blogs, write emails and send online messages to each other. I mean, the internet rocks! Unfortunately, it has its drawbacks, too.

As some people have already noticed, it's almost impossible to hide your identity on the internet. This means that all those people you don't know, or don't want to know, have access to a lot of information about you. Even some people you do know but don't want them to know everything about you, of course, have access to this kind of information. And this brings me to today's story.

After spending two days enshrouded in silence, my mother has decided it was time to take her place on the pulpit and bring down her judgement upon me. You can imagine my surprise when, instead of using the conventional means of communications, like emails or telephone calls, she sent me an instant message on MSN messenger! I mostly use MSN messenger for naughty, unsavory means - it's easier to separate that from my usual chat client, Yahoo! Messenger. And now, I'll have to be really careful with my webcam and the pictures I post on the profile page. But I digress. Well, after delivering a rather lengthy sermon about my familial responsibilities, brotherly in particular, she mentioned that she was browsing the internet and that she happened upon "one of my websites" and that she was rather shocked at "the way I advertise myself" on the internet, and that I even lie about my age on one of those profiles.

As you can imagine, a myriad of fears suddenly exploded in my head! Which one of my profiles has she read? Which photos of me has she seen? As any good advertiser knows, one must adapt the type and appearance of the profile to the intended audience. Mothers generally do not constitute a member of such an audience. Therefore, the predicted level of embarrassment depended on the profile in question.

Normally, I would expect this to be the ultimate embarrassment, having your mother check out your gaydar profile, for example. But somehow, I suddenly found the whole situation so funny I started laughing out loud. I remembered Oliver's open letter to his mother (yes, this has happened to other people as well!) and I told my mother it served her right, sticking her nose where it does not belong. And it was actually quite a liberating experience. So, if mother reads this, please read the above link and consider this experience AYOR (explained in Oliver's letter to his mother).

She never told me what profile she was talking about. I guess I'll never know.

The Guilt Trip

2005-02-19T13:25:00.000+01:00

I was just dreaming about how my best friend Tori Amos and I (it was a dream OK?) were just having an intimate moment talking about the boys, doing each other's hair, laughing about some embarrassing moment from our mutual past when I awoke to the sound of my phone.

"Hello there, son. Your little brother's been wondering if you were going to visit us soon. He'd really like to see you and spend some quality time with you. So your grandmother's picking you up in two hours and she's driving you over here for lunch. "

To adequately relate the whole story, I'll need to include some background information. I am the oldest of four children in my family, with two younger sisters (19 and 20) and a little brother (9). My grandmother is also very present in our family and she's always been a bit on the nutty side. The mere fact that she used to race cars until she was 70 speaks for itself. Some facts about my family. It runs on one main principle. Mother is always right. Grandmother is always right. If things go contrary to either of their expectations, Grand/Mother is disappointed. For example, when I turned out gay, both Mother and Grandmother perceived it as a direct vendetta against them on my part, as if I was punishing them. And they make generous use of these guilt trips. And this was passed on down the female side of the family.

When they were little, my sisters would intentionally manipulate my mother's reactions (fueled byI grew up changing my little sisters' diapers and taking care of them while my parents were away at work. And I was always the one responsible for both of them. And my parents would be overprotective of them and this would drive me crazy because they knew it very well and they would gang up on me and tell on me, then I'd get in trouble with mom and I couldn't touch them. And they would intenionally manipulate my mother's reactions (fueled by her working mother's sense of guilt because she was not there for them as much as she'd want) against me and I had to devise wicked ways to deal with them without incurring the wrath of my mother.

Eventually, I got tired of the situation and I moved out when I was 19. And I felt free again. Severed from the rest of the family, there was no more nagging, no more manipulation, just peace. Well, the frequency of visits to my family home was much lower, therefore my stress levels were significantly reduced. Plus, by that time, my mother was kept too busy with my newborn 19-years younger brother and now-adolescent sisters, bringing their own host of growing pains.

My brother and I never really got a real connection going. I guess the generation gap is just too wide between us. He could very easily be my son. When I come over, he's generally shy and doesn't know what to say to me. And when my mother or grandmother gets him to call me on the phone, he speaks four or five smalltalk sentences then says: "OK, I'll let you talk to mom now!"

Well, now my brother is old enough to have learned the family tradition of manipulation and passive aggression. Which brings me to the story at hand.

Two weeks ago, I wanted to do something nice for my brother so I got him the computer game The Incredibles and I told him it was waiting here for him. He immediately felt the need to hang out. "Hey, come over, we'll play Twister!" he said. And "Oh, I haven't seen you in so long, come and visit me!" It's funny how little kids don't think you'll pick up on their plans. Well, I told him that I don't know when I was coming over and that I certainly wasn't coming over just to deliver his computer game to him. But that I could come over without the computer game and we could play Twister if he wanted. And he wasn't into it so much anymore.

Well, after I told him I didn't know when I was coming, and that he should stop trying to lure me over on false pretenses, he decided a change of tactics was in order. Now he's rallied the whole family together and they're determined to get me over there just so he'll stop pestering them about it. Well, I don't know how to do it yet but I should find a way of showing my little bro that there are other ways to get the reward and that patience is a virtue. I would appreciate any suggestions on this. Apparently, he's been going on about it ever since that last phone call two weeks ago, and it finally culminated in this morning's call from mother...

"I am really disappointed in you, son. All of my children have disappointed me! Why is this family so screwed up?" etc. Fire away the guilt trips! I hope some day they run out of ammo. I really do.

Barracuda

2005-02-18T10:42:00.000+01:00

I read the latest joe.my.god post today, where he talks about Barracuda and how hard it is for older guys to fit into the gay scene there. Well, I just have to say that Barracuda was one of my favorite places on both my trips to visit Gromek in New York, and the reason was that I felt there was because it had a mixed-age crowd, very cute bartenders (by the way, that cute bartender Joe's talking about really is very sexy - and I'm sure he's in his late 30's and he hasn't been replaced yet - so that's gotta count for something!). Anyway. My experience was just the opposite. I found it very difficult to start up conversations with people because I felt I was too young for the kinds of places I went to.

Now I'm usually more comfortable in places where people are my age or older. It has to do with my aversion to the šavra. And I found Barracuda to be such a place, with the added bonus of having really great drag queens! In fact, Barracuda was one of the few places where we didn't feel the "studied indifference", which Gromek finds to be so common on Manhattan.

While exploring the Chelsea scene, muc and I noticed that older guys are much more popular over there than here. Now, I guess at 27 we were stuck in a category somewhere in between the "young guys" and the "old trolls" section of the age spectrum, and maybe that's the reason -- but we found it was really hard to strike up a conversation with anyone. And we're usually quite a popular team over here. We just found a different set of rules applies in New York - and I think the rule is not so exclusive of more mature people as it is here. I thought it was a real shame that Ljubljana doesn't have a good place where guys over thirty could hang out and be merry, without the šavra shrieking and flailing their arms around everywhere.

So, maybe that's an idea for you guys. Maybe Gromek should come back here and start a new branch of Barracuda right here in Ljubljana. And then B. P. can finally stop pretending he's 19 going on 35. Maybe then he'll add some more uplifting oeuvres to his collection of works, eh?

Anyway, I just wanted to write about Barracuda and how I didn't really think it was really that bad. It's worse in Europe. Really.

Thursday Morning Rant

2005-02-17T10:04:00.000+01:00

Good news, everyone! Let no one say I'm not resourceful if need arise. Despite the apparent shortage of World of Warcraft in the EU, I've managed to obtain a copy for myself! It's sitting on my desk right now, begging me to install it, but I'm going to wait just a little while longer. Before I install the game, I promise it will not keep me from blogging. This is not so much a promise I make to you guys but rather one I make to myself.

Other than that, I really have nothing new to report. Oh wait -- one exciting thing is that I've been going to the gym religiously over the last two weeks. I went 4 times last week and I'm planning on going 5 times this week, all under Tilion's watchful eye. There's a gorgeous athletic person inside of me and we're going to bring it out yet, damn it!

I've already taken the horrible BEFORE photo, and if the results are according to plan, I'm going to post it together with the AFTER photo. If the results are not satisfactory, I'll just erase all record of a BEFORE picture ever having been taken (including this blog entry) and pretend it never existed. Mark my words!

The Beekeeper

2005-02-14T15:41:00.000+01:00

Through some very shady dealings, I managed to get my hands on an advance copy of the new Tori Amos CD. I've been listening to nothing else for the past three days and it really is great. On it, you can find something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. I think I'll just pack her CD when I'm walking down that aisle. But seriously, her velvety voice is so soothing I just can't tear myself away. Like with coffee, I have a need to overdose on Tori periodically, just to give my emotions an annual overhaul. So who's your Tori?

Mr. Popular

2005-02-14T14:01:00.000+01:00

On Saturday night, we had a little high-school reunion. We were a very tight class so we see each other quite often. As is the custom at events like these, we started talking about our highschool days.

Among other things, we talked about our teachers, about the time my mother cut my hair so badly I had to wear a horrible orange woolen beanie to school and I wouldn't take it off - and it was on that day that we took the annual class portrait and so it's all documented - and then, our Slovene teacher took pity on me and excused me from class and even gave me money to go to the neighborhood salon for a haircut. That is still one of my dearest and most embarrassing memories of my highschool years.

And then, my friends from school brought up something I had not been aware of until Saturday. Apparently, it was a well-known fact that I am well-endowed. Amused, I wanted to know what led them to this belief. Apparently, all of my schoolmates, male and female alike, had been checking out my jeans all through high school and I had no idea! Wow, had I known that, I might have had more fun in high school than I did :)

Of course, few of you will ever know the truth of it, but it's nice to know I was popular in high-school :)

Camel Toe

2005-02-12T20:50:00.000+01:00

We had a little get-together last night with Martin and the-incredibly-handsome-boyfriend-with-a-very-long-name-which-I-can't-remember-right-now, Easy and Tilion, and Muc and myself. We watched an AWFUL movie, called The Saw - seriously, it's one of those movies you think are great from the trailer but turn out to be the worst kind of crap you can imagine. Seriously, even those awful B-productions like Return of the Swamp Thing were more convincing than this.

Anyway, Easy (who shall henceforth be called Izzy to avoid any innuendo to his propensity to copulate) impressed me with his knowledge of English when he used the word "camel toe" in a sentence. And this made me ponder the beauty of the camel toe... And just as I was about to burst into song about it, I realized that there was already a song written about it. And I strongly encourage you to get it whatever way you can, and appreciate the Camel Toe Song by Fanny Pack. For those of you who don't know it, here's the lyrics, provided by Gromek:

Camel Toe Song
by Fanny Pack

Walking down the street something caught my eye
A growing epidemic that really ain't fly
This middle aged lady...I gotta be blunt
Her spandex biker shorts were creeping up the front

Her spandex biker shorts were creeping up the front
I could see her uterus...her pants were too tight
She mustn't owned panties, There were none in sight .

She walked right by...the poor woman didn't know
She had a frontal wedgie...a cameltoe
Mhmm, that's right, uh huh, oh no!
Fix yourself girl, you got a camel toe!

Monsena 2004: A Photographic Account

2005-02-11T18:23:00.000+01:00

It's still cold outside and even if the winter is slowly being driven away by our kurents (described by Gromek in this post), and I find myself thinking about the hot summer days at the beach again. I want to experiment a little bit, so let me try and tell you more about our fabulous Monsena adventures by posting a bunch of random pictures. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words, or so they say. And here's just a few, so you can visualize it and make get an idea of what it's like there. They're mostly just photos I took that stuck in my mind for one reason or another, and I think you can get a general idea of just how awesome the holiday was. Unfortunately, we caught the last summer season of the notorious Monsena camp because they turned the nude camping area into a family resort, which probably means it won' t ever be the same again.

And now, I invite you to join me in my reminiscence...

Out of Warcraft

2005-02-11T17:50:00.000+01:00

So I've been waiting for months for this online computer game World of Warcraft to finally be released in the EU, and today it finally was. I go to the store to buy it, and it's SOLD OUT! And not just in Slovenia, apparently Blizzard only released 500.000 copies in the EU or something, and it's sold out EVERYWHERE. And, according to The Guy from the games store, the next batch of copies won't be released until MAY!

At this point, let me tell you that I'm a real geek in some respects. The simple fact that I bought a GeForce 6800GT graphics card (for those of you who don't know geekspeak, it's an outrageously expensive and powerful graphics card)exclusively because I wanted to play WoW on a fast machine when it comes out should speak for itself. And now, I have to wait until May. Life is not fair. A pox upon Blizzard!

Superhero by joe.my.god

2005-02-11T01:54:00.000+01:00

I haven't done this before but this story is definitely a classic joe.my.god post. His short stories never cease to amaze me. He must be an amazing guy. Respect!

Talk of Marriage

2005-02-11T01:22:00.000+01:00

Surprisingly, the new right-wing government presented the a proposal of the bill for the legalization of same-sex unions today - even though they had a perfectly good proposal on the table before from the previous government, they just felt they needed to trim it down some more since they had more power now -- in spite of the fact they didn't oppose the previous bill when it was presented. I'm not sure what the actual content of the new bill is yet but they did mention it would be "less formal" than the previous bill. We shall see. Even though they're the conservative party, I have to admit that they took action a lot sooner than the previous government did. At least it's a start.

And, speaking of settling down, today, Gromek has officially confirmed that he would be my best man when muc and I decide to get married. That made me a very happy guy. Seriously. He is one of my absolute favorite people in the world. They just don't make them like that anymore. Ah, my little Gromek. He might have to wait a while though, 'cause there ain't no ring on this finger yet, girlfriend!

More London

2005-02-10T23:59:00.000+01:00

I'm still reminiscing about the London trip and since nothing earth-shattering has been happening since we came back, I thought -- why not write some more about London?

While taking a walk by the rive droite, I couldn't help but notice a little gallery/art store with beautiful mesh sculptures of the male and female figures and I thought to myself - this is what I want in my living room once I have enough money to buy one.

This and lots of other gorgeous things like large-format prints of the photos from the previous post and lots of surfaces and things on places, things on places, darling...

Introducing Arjan Writes

2005-02-09T18:41:00.000+01:00

Arjan emailed me today asking me if I had any questions for Tori Amos! I was flattered, I must admit. First of all, Arjan has this incredibly famous blog about music which you can check out here. And secondly, he's meeting Tori for an interview tomorrow, and asked little old me if I had any questions for her. I mean, of course I have questions, tons and tons of them - but more about her personally than the albums. I e-mailed him some ideas. Maybe he'll find something useful. What I wouldn't give to be able to talk to her in person... *sigh*

Introducing Diamonds in the Ruff

2005-02-09T13:48:00.000+01:00

A while ago, Muc and I met K. and I., this great American couple from New York while traveling in Turkey, and we spent a couple of lovely days together on a trip to Mt. Nemrut. We stayed in touch and now they've started writing their own blog, with some great photos made with the same camera I got. They're the newest addition to my list of favorites and I encourage you to look at these great photos!

Final Recap

2005-02-08T19:35:00.000+01:00

After yesterday's failed (and frustrating) attempt to post an entry, I will try to recreate it today...

Last night was our last night in London. Since we've seen most of the mainstream places like G.A.Y., Heaven, Barcode, Rupert Street, G.A.Y. Bar, Ghetto etc., we decided we were ready to explore the darker side of London. Since we hadn't really made any real contact with local guys beyond flirtatious looks and smiles, we decided to brave the dark side on our own. We saw the listings for many events that sounded fun, like underwear parties, pants-only parties, and we even saw some less savoury things that piqued our interest. Here's a flyer for one of these events:

We lacked the proper attire to attend most of these events, however. Except for the underwear party, that is - and muc is determined to attend one of those once we've had the time to regroup and buy suitable underwear.

While exploring the gay Soho is fun, I noticed an overabundance of šavras there. In fact, there's a bar on Charing Cross Road, called KU Bar, which is packed full of nothing but šavras. Not a single non-šavra in sight! As you know how fed up with them I am, I was happy to see muc was ready to explore more manly venues. And last night, we finally found one.

This place called Daddy was a perfect underground kind of seedy cruisy joint, conveniently located in the back of a darkened alley, underneath the arches of London Bridge, with a scary, empty, abandoned-looking parking lot in front of it. It took us quite a while to find it, and even an hour before closing, there were only about 30 people in the place. But the music was awesome, and the atmosphere dark and scary. Imagine a darkened bar area with curtains hanging off the ceiling, big, thick candles burning, and some sort of goth electro music playing. In the back, there's a dark area with a projection of a hardcore bear porn video, and the curtained off area full of mysterious shadows, the smell of poppers in the air and gas heaters burning up the little oxygen that's still in the room. It was quite an intoxicating place. The crowd that this place attracted included big biker bears and their adoring fans, some muscle marys, and the two of us. The bartender, this big, burly, gentle giant was really friendly, too. It was worth the cover charge just because it was so different from the Soho scene. And we can now say that we had a glimpse at the darker, seedier side of London. Maybe next time, we'll even brave a leather bar.

Speaking of leather bars, we found this incredible coffee bar called Coffee, Cake & Kink somewhere near Covent Garden, which was really a bookshop/photo gallery/erotic literature resource center. It's definitely worth a visit, and the interior is so tasteful! We were really sorry the downstairs lounge area was closed during the afternoon, because the main part of the activity happens in the evenings, we heard. The waitress even told us that there was a professional dominatrix there the other day with her male slave who had to sit on the floor next to her while she ate her dinner.

Apart from these charming ladies, there's an amazing erotic photo exhibition in the lounge area which the waitress was nice enough to let us see... It's really quite a place. Here's a picture I took inside. And some of the amazing artwork by John Chilton you can see on the walls in there:

All in all, the trip to London was a success. We didn't spend too much money, we really got to see a lot and next time we come, we'll know what to expect and where the cool places are. Now, we're back in good old Ljubljana - finally, we'll be able to sleep without having to wake up every hour to turn on the damn heater! I haven't had a good night's sleep in four days, thanks to my crappy lightweight McKinley X-Treme Lite 600 sleeping bag (don't believe a word they say, it's CRAP!) and the stingy student housing management.

An Observation on Student Life in the UK

2005-02-08T19:19:00.000+01:00

Just a note about staying in student housing in London. Let me just start this off by saying that this is not an isolated example but more of a confirmation of the rule - I had the same experience years ago when I stayed in Cambridge for a month, and several of my friends who are, or were at some time, staying in the U.K. told me the same. I don't know what it is with these guys but they try to save money on everything. For example, the student room we were staying in with our friend had a heater that would turn off every 60 minutes and if you didn't turn it back on, the room would cool down to a freezing 16°C (that's damn cold in Fahrenheit!), which is when the heater turns back on automatically. I was sleeping in a sleeping bag that's supposed to withstand low temperatures and I was freezing in there. I had to sleep in a T shirt and sweater. The showers only open to a faint sprinkle, so it takes forever to rinse. On the other hand, if you open the hot water faucet in the sink, it is literally boiling hot. So much for conserving energy. And don't even get me started on the whole concept of the hot and cold water faucet thing. Apparently, you're supposed to plug up the sink and run a lukewarm sinkful of water using both faucets (at opposite ends of the sink, so it's physically impossible to wash under running water), then use the resulting broth to wash your face and other bits, all in that one disgusting bowl of filth. How come this isn't a violation of some EU health code? I do not know. And on top of all that, you have notices threatening disciplinary action and/or eviction on pretty much every window and door you see in the student apartments. Here's what I mean:

Seriously, people, chill!

Please, Touch Your Oyster

2005-02-05T19:04:00.000+01:00

While traveling on the London tube today, the following public announcement on the loudspeakers caught my attention: "Attention! Please touch your oyster on both sides. Do not walk straight through. This is for your own benefit!" For a second, I thought about touching my oyster right there but decided against it. Still, you gotta love a country that reminds its people to touch their oysters.

After a Night Out in Soho

2005-02-05T13:55:00.000+01:00

So, it turns out Barbara (the friend we're visiting here in London) has cable internet in her student dorm so I can blog from here as well.

We arrived in London in the late afternoon/early evening and rushed to meet Barb and get our luggage unpacked in the dorms. By the time we got there, the time was already 8:30 PM so muc got everyone drinking early to save money later in the discos. Barbara had never been to a gay bar in London before so we gave her fashion advice. Doubtful but compliant, she put ended up going out with us looking like this:

Meet Barb Wire. And let me tell you, she was the queen of the dance floor. She got all the attention from all of the boys at GAY. Two of the hottest dancing superstars grabbed her and they had a little menage-a-trois right there on stage. Her milkshake really did bring all the boys to the yard, and they were, like, they were better than ours. Muc was also very popular with the boys last night. GAY in general is quite a cruisy place, really easy to make contact with the guys, even if there are way too many šavras there for my taste. I hope when we go out tonight, there will be an older and manlier crowd.

I will try to write more later.

Adieu for the Weekend

2005-02-04T09:30:00.000+01:00

Well, the time has come to bid you all farewell... until Tuesday. I'm going away to London for four days and I don't expect to blog from there. I will, however, take lots and lots of pictures and maybe show you some after I come back.

In the meantime, I just wanted to tell you that I recently discovered this great Chill-Out artist project Shpongle. I especially love Tales of the Inexpressible - because of the way they blend acoustic instruments together with electronic beats, everything done very nicely with a sweet middle-eastern sound to it, nice female vocals, ululating samples etc. It's definitely worth a download.

So, Ljubljana is covered in snow today but I don't care 'cause I'll be in London in just a few hours and it should be dry over there. Watch out guys, here we come!

MMORPG's

2005-02-03T13:16:00.000+01:00

So I finally decided to give this whole MMORPG thing (Massively-Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game) a try. It looks like it's quite popular among some of the more hard-core guys, too.

I downloaded a free trial version of Dark Age of Camelot, and it really is a fun game, for a while. I normally play alone, I don't like to get into the whole team-playing business. I level up my character to 15 alone, and then one time, I get a request to join a team. And I say OK, let's try this out. And we go around, this level 14 human fighter and myself, a lvl 15 human magician, killing monsters and casting magic spells, and talking and generally getting along. Some more people join in, and we go on playing. Then I get killed by a particularly bad giant rat. Several times. And after getting killed for like the 10-th time, apart from screaming my lungs out here, in real life, I start cursing - the F word in combination with some P and S words, and throw in a couple of the M-F's, all in CAPS, just to make sure I expressed my frustration adequately to my fellow team members. And then TinyBolt (I think that was his name) says:

"Don't say that, I'm 9!"
.
.
.
.
.
.
I logged off and uninstalled the game.

Sad News

2005-02-02T13:10:00.000+01:00

I found out today that one of the regulars at one of the chatrooms I frequent committed suicide on Sunday night. Apparently, he sent a bunch of stuff to his online friends and had his lawyer announce his death and delete his profile. Personally, I never chatted with him but according to some of his friends, he was always dancing around and singing to music on cam, he seemed like a happy 20 something guy.

Now I don't know what his reason was but it makes me sad to think that someone can be so desperate at a certain point to go and end their life. A couple of years ago I used to help run a gay and lesbian youth group and we had two cases of suicide among our youth, both from fairly rural and conservative environments.

This is why it makes me so angry to see all those so-called Christians preach their fire-and-brimstone rhetoric to everyone, trying to scare everyone into submission. Trying to get people to "mend their ways" and convert back to the "true faith" of heterosexuality. They even create AA-type organizations with the purpose of resocializing "gays" and "lesbians", as they call them. This is what all of it can lead to. It promotes hatred for others and for oneself even though the main principle of Christianity is supposed to be love. And this hatred is then adopted by young people and they end up hating themselves if they happen to be gay. They try to deal with the hate they feel for themselves in different ways, but some of them just can't find their way out of that dark place. And then they end it by slitting their wrists. And who's really at fault? Did their parents offer enough support? Did their community? Did their church? No. They either pretended it wasn't there or they made it clear that if they ever found out they'd be considered outcasts.

The only way to fight this wave of hatred is to educate those around us. I think living as an out gay man anywhere, you can act as a sort of educator, dispelling people's myths about what the gays are like. You can just be yourself and let them form an opinion based on fact rather than fiction. Maybe then they won't listen to the preacher and hate their kids if they turn out gay. Or maybe that 40-year old man with a wife and 3 kids will finally muster up the courage to come out of the closet and start living the life he has denied himself for so long. Sure, it won't be as comfortable as fitting right into the mold, but does any life really fit the mold perfectly? It just seems to me that being true to oneself can help you build the strength you need when you find yourself in that dark place and think you should end it all...

I can't imagine if his sexuality was what drove this young man to suicide... but it was what drove those two young men to it.

Drag Queen Flashback

2005-02-01T22:39:00.000+01:00

Well, since I don't feel like ranting on about the šavra or my gym routine or my childhood traumas today, I thought I'd share some more memories with you. As I said, I'm a huge fan of drag queens in general. I don't know why, they just get me with their bitchy attitude and the bitchslappin' and the hair, the works. Of course, there are some good ones and there are some bad ones, too. On my two visits to New York so far has been this place called Barracuda. Not just because it has a very relaxed and friendly, mostly attitude free atmosphere, but because of the incredible drag shows they hold there. On my first trip, I fell in love with Cashetta, who looked like Divine, the tranny from those John Waters movies. I loved her so much I had to take a picture with her. Anyway, Cashetta had this great weekly show called Cashetta Star Search which brought all the drag wannabees on the block together to compete for a shot at fame and $200 in cash. And the talent you could see there, I just can't describe it. For those of you who are familiar with the Slovenian drag scene, any show from even the worst of these performers puts Salome to shame. I think all of our drag queens should just invest in an educational excursion to the New York drag scene and bring back some o' dat fierce, girl! You had local superstars who would just come in every week and win the prize for weeks and weeks in a row. One of these was ShaBoomBoom. She gave an amazing performance to Aqua's Barbie Girl when that was a hit song - it's impossible to put down in words how great she was but if you're ever in NYC, make sure you catch one of her shows.

Last year, muc and I visited Gromek and we met a brand new diva.

Her name was Shasta Cola, and she was truly the mistress of fierce. Not only did she have the best taste in music of all the drag queens I've met in my life (PJ Harvey, Peaches, and numerous others I've never even heard about but loved - now it must be hard to do drag to that kind of music, but somehow she managed to pull it off). Of course, I had to meet her in person and she held a short audience with me and told me she used to be a modern ballet dancer before s/he became a drag queen and had actually performed in Slovenia. Her show is also a must see. If you ever go to New York, make sure you go to Barracuda on one of the weekdays (I think the talent show is Thursday nights and Shasta Cola performs on Tuesday but you might want to check the bar listings). Good times guaranteed!

Tori Amos Newsflash

2005-01-31T22:00:00.000+01:00

Well, Tori is about to release a new album and for those of you who want to hear the latest song Sleeps with Butterflies, this is where you can check it out!

Tori is one of my favorite artists and she's rocked my world since she released Little Earthquakes, yet I haven't seen a single one of her concerts - she doesn't come to my neck of the woods very often. Hope to see her in Ljubljana some day though.

Another Example

2005-01-31T13:20:00.000+01:00

I just came across another good example of the šavra phenomenon - in this example, you see a couple of šavra and female companion.

Another Sunday at the Den of Evil

2005-01-31T11:56:00.000+01:00

Well, the night went reasonably well, considering the fact that last Sunday's party raised the bar beyond any reasonable point. Martin and his boyfriend (who insists on being called FunGreekLookingSmartSexGodOne - wuteva sistah!) took me to the Den of Evil again, and Tilion brought his newfound love, whom we shall call Easy - not because of his reputation because he has none to speak of at this point but because Tilion calls him that. He was a bit shy at first but pretty soon, we were all doing the lambada on the dance floor. There was a lot of rubbing of crotches and knees and good times were had by all. At one point, Tilion had an embarrassing moment on the dance floor after dancing with Easy, because a certain hard member was preventing him from going to the bathroom - he'd have to strut his stuff past a host of adoring fans and he's just too shy to do that for now. I say, give it a year and he'll be wearing leathers chaps to the disco. Period.

Unfortunately, they had a terrible DJ who kept playing awful music. Seriously, the normally crowded dancefloor was all but empty. The other DJ was playing House music on the other dance floor and that kept our hips moving for a while.

Overall, I was not as satisfied as last time, known as the night of Joj Prejoj but I do have to mention a particular incident. I now realize that the šavras now have their eye on me. They've been standing around in their little groups, whispering and eyeing me suspiciously. One even came up and asked me again for a clear and concise definition of what a šavra is supposed to be. And when I told him/her that a šavra is nothing to be ashamed about, that it is a higher state of being, s/he walked away to confer with his/her flock, unconvinced. If I'm ever found in a dark alley with a pink feather boa stuffed down my throat, you'll know who did it. The Šavra Collective!

Anyway, enough ranting for one afternoon, don't you think? More may come later on.

PS. Tilion has reconciled with the staff at gaydar and his profile is again visible. Please think before you click, though, we don't want the staff at gaydar to start pimpin' him out to strangers.

UPDATE: It has just come to my attention that Easy has a gaydar profile as well. Thinking back to last night, I feel very fortunate to have rubbed against someone who looks like this, notwithstanding the thin layers of clothing between us.

Attempt to Make Iranian Rice Botched!

2005-01-30T14:27:00.000+01:00

Well, I just wanted to warn you guys that I tried making the Iranian rice independently today... and failed miserably! For one thing, the potatoes were charred on one side and uncooked on the other, the barberries were burnt, the saffron wasn't even noticeable, and I put too much pepper on the chicken.

Apparently, muc was still pleased with the result and even had seconds but I think that was mostly to make me feel better about my failure. Based on my mistake, I can now tell you that you really should be careful to put enough butter under the rice and potatoes, and cook on a very small flame, or you'll end up with charcoal chips.

Hopefully, my next attempt will be more successful.

"Say Hello to My Ass!"

2005-01-29T20:41:00.001+01:00

CAUTION! BELOW LINKS ARE NOT WORK-SAFE!

Gromek was just telling me today that 99% of the men looking for love/relationship on the various personal ad services had a picture of their ass on their main profile page. This Gaydar profile shows that the trend has begun in Slovenia as well. It will be interesting to observe this gradual transition into the Age of Bottomhood.

Another thing he pointed out was that now that every gay guy in New York is writing a blog, you get to know the man behind the anus. If this man's anus could speak, what would it say, I wonder...

Weekly Hike Up Šmarna Gora #3

2005-01-29T20:04:00.000+01:00

Now I think I might have an idea what climbing really high mountains must feel like. We went on our 3rd Weekly Hike Up Šmarna Gora. The weather was hazy with some sun but it was freezing! Muc and I invited along one of the Notorious Twins (there is a whole story behind the Twins I might reveal to you some day - and some of you may already know certain parts of it) and the even more notorious Štrumpeljica (the best friend of muc and also the girl Gromek took one look at and said: "That girl is trouble"). The weather was too cold for anything notorious to happen, though.

Now that it's over I can say I'm glad we went for the exercise but it was really hard getting all the way up this time around - I guess it had to do with the cold air. It was like -10°C and windy! It should be illegal to have this kind of temperatures anywhere. Brrr! Anyway, this healthy day is supposed to make it OK for me to go on another drinking binge tomorrow to K4 with the same people as last week, on the eve of joj prejoj (see below entry). This time, though, I will have to behave because Tilion is bringing his date. *sigh*

Iranian Rice with Saffron and Barberries

2005-01-27T19:35:00.000+01:00

My sister came over today and taught me how to make a delicious lunch. She has an Iranian boyfriend and he taught her how to make the best tasting rice I have ever tasted. I'm not sure if this is a traditionally Iranian way of preparing rice but it's really really nice and I encourage you to try it out. I'm mostly posting this to have a written record of how it's supposed to be prepared before I forget - and I'm sharing it with you.

Ingredients:
- Chicken or turkey fillet
- Basmati or Jasmin rice
- One potato
- Barberries (I've never seen this before today and I don't think you can buy it in Slovenia - it looks like dried red currant and has a sweet-sour taste)
- saffron
- butter
- coriander seeds
- peppercorn

Rice:
Wash 1 cup of rice in water until the water is clear. Cook in water for 12 minutes. Strain. Peel potato and cut into regular, 5mm-thick disk-shaped slices. Put a little butter on the bottom of a deep (but not too big) pot and cover the bottom with the potato slices, then cover evenly with pre-cooked rice. Poke several holes into the rice but do not stir. This will help the steam from the potatoes cook the rice further and create a great taste. Wrap a tea-towel around a lid and cover the pot. Cook for 10 minutes, blowing the steam out every now out of the pot now and then. When the steam is really thick, it's supposed to be done.

Put a spoon of butter on a pan, add barberries and saffron. Simmer until yellow. Place the rice over the mixture and stir, then fry the rice until ready (it should turn yellowish).

Chicken:
While preparing the rice, put some black pepper and coriander seeds in coffee grinder and grind together. Roll the chicken fillets in the resulting powder mixture, covering it in brown stuff. Sauté in pan until the meat turns white, then pour over some water. Cover and cook until the meat is ready. Serve.

Let me know how you like it.

Gym Troubled

2005-01-27T13:54:00.000+01:00

I hate the gym. The only reason I really go there is to see the naked guys in the locker room after gym practice. Well, that and a faint desire to look like Brad Pitt when I hit 40. I think this whole problem with physical activity started in elementary school with my phys-ed teacher Kokalj.

I was the fat kid all the way through elementary school. My mean classmates would gang up on me and beat me up because they knew if they tried to come at me one at a time, they'd get a good beating. Hey, all I had to do was sit on them and bounce a few times and they were ready to give up the ghost. Or they would make up really mean names for me like pujsocvetka (something to do with pigs and the reproductive cycle of plants - OK, so they weren't exactly Shakespeare material but they still made me furious) and then I would chase them around the classroom - but being fat makes you slow so I didn't really catch anyone most of the time. One time, I actually threw a writing desk at someone. I was not a happy kid in elementary school. One of my saving graces was that I was considered to be quite bright for my age by the teachers and most of them liked me. All but one, in fact.

And his name was Kokalj. He would encourage the other kids to make fun of me by making fun of me himself. "Run, fatso!" he would say when I wheezed past him on my second 200m lap(about 200 yards I guess) while everybody else was well into their third lap already. I really hated him for that. And I think that's the reason I have this internalized hatred for physical exercise. But I still make myself go because I know it's good and healthy and all that. I'm so jealous of all those guys that actually love to go out and do sports just for fun. I have never seen sports as a fun thing. It has always been a necessary evil for me. Today, I'm quite skinny - one of my resolutions coming out of elementary school was to never allow myself to get fat ever again. And i've been more or less skinny ever since. Now, my new aim is to get buff.

Anyway, I renewed my gym membership two days ago and today, my arms hurt like hell. But my plan is to look gorgeous and hot by June, and I can wear skimpy tanktops and actually fill them. I'll keep you posted on my progress.

Les Mauvais Garçons...

2005-01-26T16:09:00.000+01:00

Since everybody's putting up hot guys from the Internet, I might as well post one of my own favorites. I'm pretty sure you've all seen this calendar featuring guys from the French rugby team. But for those of you who've been kept out of the loop, I present to you one of the hottest shots I've seen in my 10 years of surfing the Internet - and that includes the Brewer Twins series (an obsession of mine during my coming out phase, although they do absolutely nothing for me today). Odd (and somewhat disturbing) as it may sound, my little sister, 19, e-mailed me a bunch of these photos the other day, with a short note saying "I just thought you could use these..." My little sister knows me too well...

It's images like this one that make me pound my head against the wall for not taking up a team sport in my formative years - what I wouldn't give for just one scene like this...

Slovenian 101: Muc

2005-01-26T01:03:00.000+01:00

I've already mentioned that I have a boyfriend. What I haven't mentioned, however, was his name. As we never call each other by our names, I will have to teach you another Slovenian word. We use it to address each other. I will not provide a translation, however, because it's just too embarrassing in English. This word is muc. And since a picture is worth a thousand words, I include a picture of the two of us (slightly cropped and blurred so as not to offend your modesty, gentle reader).

The reason I post this is because muc declared that he will have none of me calling him "some anonymous boyfriend" and insisted I start calling him by his real name. He really put his foot down there. So that settles it.

Tilion Undone

2005-01-25T21:49:00.000+01:00

As some of you may have noticed, the link to the fine young man no longer works. This is due to the massive number of hits on his gaydar profile through this page - the staff at gaydar thought he was soliciting sexual services and killed his account. I am totally serious. Apparently, his fame was short-lived. What's worse, his complete collection of carefully prepared semi-nude photos with just the shadows falling in all the right places, all GONE! He never saved his photos on his hard disk, and now the poor guy has no way of ever reclaiming them.

Well, as some of you know, I'm always ready to help a man in need and I shall propose to him that I make new high-resolution semi-nude photos of him! And you, gentle reader, may get the chance to see the result, if my ploy is successful. Ah, the tangled webs I weave...

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the origins of the name Tilion, check out this link and you will see that he is the Steersman of the Moon.

Slovenian 101: Joj prejoj...

2005-01-24T14:32:00.000+01:00

I thought It would be a good idea to share a bit of my language with you. Sometimes, it's economical to know a small word that describes a larger concept. One such example is joj prejoj! (pronounced yoy-preyoy). It's the first two words that come to your mind after a really rough night of drunken frolicking. In fact, it's the only two words you can remember from last night. Gromek and Leslita know what I'm talking about because we use those words excessively whenever we see each other.

Those words have been on my mind today ever since I woke up in the morning. Last night, I went to the den of evil with a couple of friends and we danced our butts off. And I was groping every cute guy that came close enough - they all loved it though. You may be interested to know that I danced most of the night with this fine young man and at one point he rubbed his crotch on my knee. I think that made my night. Oh, and I almost got bitchslapped by a group of šavras who apparently don't appreciate being called that to their face... Don't let their slender physique fool you into thinking they're frail, defenseless creatures... they can use their platform boots to clobber you to death if provoked.

I don't really remember how much I drank but it was a lot. I don't know how I got home either, but I think at some point I was thrown out of a moving car. It's all a blur. Joj prejoj...

Designer Chair Madness

2005-01-23T15:35:00.000+01:00

OK, now I've seen it all. I was just hanging out in this secret cam2cam site I frequent and there's all these guys taking their stuff out on cam for the pleasure of numerous fans cheering them on on the main channel. One particularly popular guy by the name of Gameboi was suddenly the talk of the channel - not because he was so well endowed or because he had a chiseled body (he was fully dressed, although promising a show later on) - but because of the chair he was sitting on. Everybody went CRAZY over this chair.

Apparently, designer furniture trumps good ol' c**k. Personally, I could care less.

Monsena 2004, A Fabulous Adventure: The Swingers

2005-01-23T13:36:00.000+01:00

Well, since it's such a cold Sunday outside and I have some time on my hands (there's a huge pile of dishes to be done in the kitchen and I'm trying to put off doing them for as long as possible), I thought I'd reminisce some more about my fabulous summer adventures in Monsena.

While it was fun to check out guys on the beach all day while laying sprawled out on hard, sharp rocks, it was mostly silent gazing across the vast expanse of horizontally positioned naked men's bodies. Not much action to speak of. Except in the woods.

Now the way to the unofficial part of the beach from the main camp beach area takes you through a wooded area. You're fine if you just keep to the main path, broad and well-trodden and leading straight to the beach. But with all the small winding paths leading in all directions, all converging and forking out again, it's easy for the unwary traveller to get lost. This post is to tell you of the lurkers, gentle reader.

Even in broad daylight, it's easy to get lost in the intricate web of footpaths. But no matter how hard you try, the pull of the mystery that lies deep in the woods was too much for my boyfriend and me. We had to see what was in there. And as we braved the paths, we saw many other explorers like us trying to unravel the mystery of the woods. It was like Blair Witch Project with hot naked guys.

You would imagine some of these guys would actually hook up but it seemed that that wasn't the purpose of their sylvan excursion. The place was completely silent (except for the rustle of feet through the underbrush and the occasional sound of a dry twig cracking under someone's foot)and there was expectation in the air. It was like everyone was expecting something to happen but everyone was waiting for something better to come along. And there were literally people who would spent hours and hours in there.

My boyfriend and I, voyeurs that we are, were expecting to see a show but we never did catch one, and neither did anyone else, apparently. Now that I think about it, it reminded me of one of those internet chat rooms where nobody speaks in the main channel and everybody's expecting someone's window to pop up and start a conversation - and nobody's chatting anybody up. So you get a bunch of guys standing around looking at each other, passing each other by, then finally deciding to get out of there and back to the beach where at least they'll be getting a tan.

One of the freakier things that I saw in there though was an older straight couple, naked, wearing large crosses around their necks. They were making their way through the woods, past all those naked guys, the guy leading the way and holding the woman's hand, leading her through the woods like Hansel and Gretel... It was surreal. Now they could have been on a mission to redeem the sinners, or they could have been the swingers from the next beach up but it was still very strange.

This concludes our flashback for today.

Boyfriend Under Fire By Mystery Celebrity

2005-01-22T20:43:00.000+01:00

It has recently come to my attention that my boyfriend is currently being propositioned by an unlikely suitor. He got in touch with my boyfriend through his gaydar profile and they've been exchanging emails for a while now.

You have to understand that Slovenia is a very small country, and Ljubljana, the capital, is a city of only 350.000 people. Word gets around real fast around here. So from the guy's description, we think we've figured out his identity. He is a super celebrity in Slovenia and in his emails describes himself as "public property". Now from his description, we've narrowed it down to the following candidates:

Person #1
Person #2
Person #3
Person #4
Person #5

I'm pretty sure I know which one, but I can't be sure yet...

A Nice Day

2005-01-22T17:53:00.000+01:00

Well, it turned out to be a really nice and crisp day and I'm glad I went on that hike. From the foot of the hill, it doesn't really look like much.

It did take us 32 minutes of walking up a pretty steep slope to get to the top, however. We decided to make it a weekly thing after seeing that scary movie, Supersize Me. Seriously, that movie is scarier than the worst horror flick I've ever seen in my entire life. I'm never eating in any fast-food joint ever again. So we'll be going again next Saturday.

It's a popular weekend hiker spot and once you get to the top of the hill, you can order the most delicious blend of herbal tea with lemon you can imagine. I don't know what they put in that stuff but it can't be described in words. You also see families with kids and dogs and the occasional hot spandex-clad guy running up and down the hill like it was the easiest thing in the world. Yikes! And the view from up there is incredible, too. Here's what it looks like:

My friend Gromek spent two and a half years in Slovenia and never made it up here. Next time he visits, I'm taking him so he can see what he was missing.

Withdrawal

2005-01-22T13:46:00.000+01:00

I'm hooked by now.

I've been stuck to the screen for two days now, checking my blog visits, trying to figure out who and where they're coming from, I'm a sick man. Mad, I tell you! And this is why today, my boyfriend is dragging my ass out on a hike up the hill of Šmarna gora. Hope I don't go into withdrawal while we're up there. I'll keep you posted.

Monsena 2004, A Fabulous Adventure: The Šavra

2005-01-22T01:35:00.000+01:00

This summer, my boyfriend and I decided to spend our summer holidays the way we always used to when we were little kids - by spending two weeks in an overpriced Croatian nudist camp with awful service. Of course, we weren't there for the service, nor did we particularly care about the quality of the accomodation. The water is nice to swim in and they get some pretty mean sunsets too - check out the above photo which I took there one evening! On top of that, this particular nude camp near the Istrian city of Rovinj (or Rovigno, as it is commonly called by Italians) was actually notorious for its cruisy unofficial gay beach. It draws a huge gay crowd, mostly Italians, Germans, Austrians, Hungarians, with the occasional Croatian and Slovenian thrown into the pot for good measure. What we didn't know, however, was that just a little bit further up the coastline, there's an actual swingers' beach as well. But I am getting ahead of myself.

There were many interesting things that occurred on that holiday, and some of them I will share with you, gentle reader.

As you can imagine, there was a fair amount of talent on display at the beach. Now, I'm normally bored in the gay bars here because there seems to be a cult of the šavra around these parts. Fear not, gentle reader, I will elaborate on and try to define the elusive concept of the šavra (pronounced show (as in shower) - ra) . It is one of those things that you can't really find a definition for but you can spot one in a second if you see one walk past you. Perhaps the best way to explain is by showing you an example of the šavra:

These scrawny creatures of uncertain gender are highly sought after here and they abound in any gay venue you walk into. They normally hang around in groups of three or four, giggling, and often have along a female of a similar age, usually dressed in some kind of fluffy garment (fake fur, feather boa etc.) Their fluorescent outfits may or may not include pacifiers, platform boots, some kind of fake animal skin pattern (ie zebra/leopard/skunk etc.) on tight pants. They normally have a drug problem, or at least one on the way. They love techno music. There are several varieties of the šavra but well, you get the idea - I'm sure you have your own localized version of this phenomenon. Please let me know if you know them by a different name.

Now don't get me wrong, I live and let live. It was just refreshing to see that these boys were few and far between in Monsena, so I could feast my eyes on some serious studdage. But that is a story for another day.

By way of introduction

2005-01-21T17:45:00.000+01:00

Gentle reader,

inspired by my best friend's fantabulous blog, I decided I wanted to try and become a part of this semi-anonymous scene. This is to be the first of my (hopefully many) posts as I embark on this fantastic journey and join the hosts of bloggers around the world. I'm not exactly sure what it's going to be about, or if I'm going to particularly enjoy writing it, but what the hell, let's give it a go.

A quick rundown on me:

Born 1977 in Ljubljana, Slovenia (one of the 10 new countries to join the EU). Perpetual student of English language and Literature at the University of Ljubljana. Hopefully I'll be graduating in a matter of 2 months. Fingers crossed!

Hobbies include photography, traveling, computers, graphic design, indie movies. Also a devout follower of the Beekeeper. Maybe I shouldn't say this here (I hardly know you guys, after all!) but one of my dreams since my teenage years has been to have Tori Amos over for dinner in my home and just discuss daily matters with her... Yes, even though I'm all gay, I think I'm secretly in love with Tori.

My other obsessions include drag queens, Belgian pralines, anal sex (which I enjoy discussing at length in crowded public places, to the great embarrassment of aforementioned friend, let us call him Gromek).

I feel many stories welling up inside me, but I must refrain from spilling them all out now because I'm afraid if I do there won't be any left for later posts. Let's keep it "short and sweet" as Gromek likes to put it and save my tales of shame and debauchery for another time.
I hereby declare this blog open for business!