A Whole New Look/ Going Forward

So, here is the new look. I like this template better than the last one. I'd really like to make some little edits to this template but I don't know enough about the whole html coding. If you're reading this and you do know something about this stuff, drop me a line and maybe you can help me with it. I've also added some new suspect sites that link you to even more crazy (and dirty if that's possible) sex blogs on the net. Note to all ye sex bloggers who read this: Go ahead and link to me on your site and let me know if you want a link on mine. It's only fair that we share the love and really link ourselves to each other.

Moving on, quick Round Peg report: nothing is up as of yet. I'm still waiting to see what happens with that.

So back on to the history of Homosexual Suspect. I think at this point it's important to note that, despite my best efforts, this blog will never be able to document every sexual encounter. Simply put, I just can't remember them. Moreover, they won't come in any kind of chronological order. To that end, you should probably get a quick handle on where my life has gone and where I've lived.
1. It all started back home somewhere in the middle in one of those red states.
2. Next, we go to college in a hip town filled with lots of eligible college students.
3. Finally, I ended up in New York working in the travel industry. Lots of travel= lots of bad things. Currently, I'm still in New York, only now I don't travel anymore.

After my disappointing encounter with a guy my age (and his ears), I think I finished my senior year the way any young sexual compulsive/addict would- with another guy. This time, though, it was actually legal for me to find a guy to hook up with. Looking back on it, there really never was a better hook to catch guys online than, "Hey guys! It's my 18th birthday so be the first to wish me a happy birthday and tap this legal ass." Seriously, I remember lots of guys responding to that ad. (Come on, cut me a little slack; momma said that it was just a little white lie that'll never heart nobody.)

I was lucky enough to find a very attractive military man in his 30's to come and just lay there and let me take care of him. Looking back on it, this is the kind of sexual relationship that I have wanted to see duplicated in all my future relationships. This guy was built with broad shoulders and just enough stomach to make him real. He also had a little chest hair, and good strong hairy legs. In today's online world, he'd be in his 40s and ugly, I'm sure. I guess back then I was a daddy seeker. That's a scary thought. Of course, he had a great cock, and an even better attitude. He came in knowing that all I wanted was a birthday fuck. He was the first guy that I think I was using just as much as he was using me. I rated this guy a seven in my book because I don't think he lasted very long.

In my current life, I'm not really sure exactly what kind of guy I'm looking for or interested in, but I know what kind of sex I want and that was definitely it. Thank God for men who know what they want and go out and get it. I was recently reading The Truth About Cocks and Dolls http://cocksanddolls.blogspot.com and got into a discussion with Dolly about the tragic absence of the aggressive male in today's New York dating scene. I have a couple theories on this apparent revolt against our natural instinct. If you think about it, even going back to old school Neanderthals, the men are supposed to be the naturally aggressive ones who go out and get what they want and continue to court their mates. (I am loosely applying this theory to the gay Neanderthals as well). Now-- go with me here-- I see New York as so far removed from the natural habitat of man, that we can hardly blame men for not taking a club and beating the shit out of each other just take us back to their cave to have their way with us. However, I do see the tide turning and, starting with Uggs and now Abercrombie's summer line, it appears that fashion is becoming increasingly rugged. Maybe there is hope after all.

In the meantime, I encourage you all to join me on my quest to spread one simple message to all the chicken-shit men out there who pussyfoot around commitment and dating: GROW A SET.