tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-146307712024-03-13T23:36:29.812-07:00Looking Out From a Southern ClosetStephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.comBlogger326125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-66550574585738675332017-06-21T12:08:00.000-07:002017-06-21T12:08:30.987-07:00Time Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It would have been so much easier if God had sent me to the corner as my punishment instead of my own self-imposed condemnation for being who I am. God forgives far more readily than I. To forgive oneself is something of a struggle for me - a forgiving heart for the world but not for myself; how can that be? You will never know how many times I re-read each of the comments left on the last post explaining my absence and how much they each meant to me. I thank you a million times over for the words of wisdom, insight, comfort I took from each of you. Thank you for being the light at the end of tunnel. I wish I could say acceptance of self has been completely turned over to God, but I can't. It will forever be a struggle I'm sure, but for now, for today, I accept me for me,,,<br />
<br />Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-22755559787309715112017-05-28T09:12:00.000-07:002017-05-28T09:50:08.868-07:00Thanks, Love, and Explanation<i><span style="color: red; font-family: "georgia";"></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">First let me say thank-you for the comments and when I say thank you it comes from a heart full of love for each of you, my blogging friends and family. We have never met, we will probably never get to meet in person but you have become a part of my life and I am so very blessed for it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There is some topics I never try to talk about on here for one reason or the other; politics and religion being at the top of the list. However, I'm breaking my own rule to give you an explanation of the post: Struggling and my absence for the past few weeks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Growing up in the Bible Belt and having feelings for the boy down the road can be a very difficult and lonely experience. It was something you never talked about, in reality there was no one to really talk about it with, you just remained in the closet and lived a lie.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Being raised in a traditional Christian home, daily prayers of blessings and forgiveness, church on Sunday, church on Wednesday, and God forbid you ever missed a night of revival. Hell and Damnation would befall you and I guess even after all these years I have not fully escaped the "Hell and Damnation" preached in the Scriptures about being gay. The following is a portion of a post many years ago shared that will give some of you more insight:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";"><i><span style="color: red;">For days nothing else entered my mind, there was no room for nothing else, I was replaying everything about that night. My mind was on constant rewind, searching every frame, looking for answers, but finding none. I secluded myself away from everyone, in the family, in fear they would know by just looking into my face what "I" had done. Looking in the mirror I was afraid, I would see on my forehead the letter "A" branded for all the world to see. In my mind it was of little consequence nothing visibly could be seen, inside, I was wearing my "Scarlet Letter," I had sex with a married man. A man that knew my family, he went to my church, sat across the aisle from us Sunday after Sunday with his family. The very hands that caressed my face, the hands that held my teenage cock, the hands that touched every part of my body were the same hands, that shook my Father's hands after Sunday service. I could not escape it, I would be doomed to Hell for what I had done. Up until this night I had led myself to believe my virginity had been lost to the boy that lived down the road, I soon found out I was still a naïve teenager.</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Believe me if anyone knows what the Bible says about the road to salvation, acceptance of Jesus Christ as one's personal savior, eternal life, repenting of sins (never to be revisited), God's Gift of Grace, it is me. Faith is one of my cornerstones in life but it is a struggle between knowing and believing and following. So many religions believe the following:</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: red;">Can you be a Gay Christian? If the phrase “gay Christian” refers to a person who struggles against homosexual desires and temptations – yes, a “gay Christian” is possible. However, the description “gay Christian” is not accurate for such a person, since he/she does not desire to be gay, and is struggling against the temptations. Such a person is not a “gay Christian,” but rather is simply a struggling Christian, just as there are Christians who struggle with fornication, lying, and stealing. If the phrase “gay Christian” refers to a person who actively, perpetually, and unrepentantly lives a homosexual lifestyle – no, it is not possible for such a person to truly be a Christian.</span></span></i></div>
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So I can be gay, be saved, have eternal life as long as I don't have sex.....</div>
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</span>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-6935773940110631202017-05-09T03:00:00.000-07:002017-05-28T07:46:52.073-07:00Struggling<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sorry, but there is no Tuesday Teaser this week! I've had to pull the stone mask out of storage to make it through some really rough days. Life has been a struggle and I'm navigating in deep water. Don't get the wrong idea, Stephen is not suicidal or anything so don't worry about that but my self imposed demons have reared themselves out of the darkness. As always, I allow no one to enter very deep into my world so no one knows what is going on. Everyone is only allowed to see certain sides of the faceted diamond. To the outward world Stephen's life is perfect. I usually can compartmentalize the many sides of Stephen but somehow the compartments aren't as tidy as I normally keep them. Usually, everything is in its place, neatly tucked away and I can rely on the stability of each compartment but something has gone wrong. I have begun to question things that I've always known to be true, accepted, and/or made peace with. We can hide a lot of things from family and friends, heck we can hide things even from ourselves to a certain extent by never allowing the hidden truth to surface but God sees everything....Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-62828389939384456632017-05-02T01:00:00.000-07:002017-05-02T01:00:35.293-07:00Tuesday Teaser<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">This picture selection made me think of a much earlier time when things were simpler. Things moved at a much slower pace than they do today. There were no worries nor expectations nothing mattered except summer days and skinny dipping. I remember a group of us boys, cousins and a few of the neighboring boys loved going swimming. None of us ever thought about a swim suit, heck most of us didn't even own one, it was just bare-ass naked fun. </span>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-68380303853117197952017-04-28T11:51:00.001-07:002017-04-28T12:15:05.826-07:00Did I Do The Right Thing?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Instead of a one night stand I think I turned down a one day stand...<br />
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Let me get to the point of the matter, yesterday I had a repairman scheduled to take care of a broken appliance.<br />
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Luckily, it was still under warranty, but here's the down side of the problem I just couldn't call a local repairman it had to be someone that handled warranty problems. This meant He, the repairman, would be coming out of South Carolina, hours away, to fix the problem. How cost effective could this be for them? But, not my worry right? He, the repairman was scheduled to arrive somewhere between 10am and 4pm. OK there goes my off day! I waited, waited, and waited knowing full well it was to be between 10am and 4pm and it was only 11am, but one of my flaws in life is having to wait on anyone when I'm ready to go or get it over with. At 1:30 pm the truck pulls up, the guy gets out, puts out the little orange cones at the front and back of his van, opens the back of the van, gets out a tool pouch attaches it around his waist and a clipboard and heads to the door. I'm watching all this from the camera monitor inside and open the door before he has a chance at ringing the bell. We make the customary exchange, shake hands, and he follows me inside. We make idle chit chat; how was his drive, the approaching summer, all as he goes about his business checking things out. I'm standing there looking over his shoulder as if I was a repairman trainee, knowing full well, I probably was getting on his nerves by micromanaging. <br />
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However, curiosity is another one of my flaws, what is broken, why is it broken, does it happen often with this make and model and so on? A recall part, he says. Well, why didn't I get a notification, oh, just waiting to see how many breaks, huh? To replace the recall part took all of thirty minutes from start to finish. His total travel time around 6 hours, still hard to fathom the economic side of this. <br />
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Matt, the repairman, was OK with this, he got paid by the hour, enjoyed driving, and didn't have to wear a required uniform which was a good thing according to him. Matt was 35-40 if I had to guess, came wearing a pair of cargo shorts which showed his muscular hairy legs - nicely tanned, nice hairy legs, needed mentioning again, a tattoo stamped on his right leg between his ankle and calf, a pullover shirt, sported a baseball cap and a short goatee with a touch of grey. Yes, I was very observant. And, yes I was also glad he didn't have to wear a required uniform. <br />
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Here is where it gets interesting.<br />
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Remember, my radar hasn't been calibrated in a long while but I got the feeling there was something else on Matt's mind. After the job he came sat down and we continue to chat about nothing as he filled out the paperwork and had me sign it. Then came this question, are there anything else you need me to help you with, he said. Anything at all? To say I wasn't caught off guard would be an under-statement and I could have easily read something into this, but before I could gather my wits and respond, he asked if he could use the restroom. Sure, it's through the door, down the hall first door to the right is all I said. Matt walks down the hall and Dumb Dora is standing there contemplating should I or should I not make the next move. In just a minute, Matt returns and I promise you the cargo pants are a little tighter in the front as he returns and says, well if you don't have any laundry you need help with, I'll be on my way. Well, what does Dumb Dora say --- I guess not but thank- you for fixing the dishwasher and have a safe drive back home!Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-43850189038009552452017-04-25T01:00:00.000-07:002017-04-25T04:07:52.743-07:00Tuesday Teaser<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I came across today's selection I couldn't resist. I love a guy wearing a hat. Of course, it showed a lot more and it really was the lot more that caught my eye first but I had to remind myself the post was about hats and not ----. So sorry about cropping out the good stuff. I guess it's from growing up in the South and all the hot, hot summers we have but a lot of guys wear hats. If I'm not at work, I'm usually wearing a hat. No fixing hair, throw some clothes on, slap a hat on it and out the door. </div>
<br />Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-52859283115499718062017-04-21T16:20:00.002-07:002017-04-21T19:02:06.196-07:00Looking Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be. Anne Frank</i><br />
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I wasn't afraid, lonely, nor was I unhappy but today called for being outside. I had the day off and some free day on my hands, so why not. I grabbed a bottle of water and headed out. The weather was perfect, cell phone was left in the truck, it was nothing but me and mother nature's wonders. I grew up in these woods and there is so many wonderful hidden little gems of solitude along the way. Lying down looking up toward God and the heavens is just what I needed today...it is as it should be.Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-20926587716652680052017-04-19T19:01:00.001-07:002017-04-19T19:02:27.488-07:00Thursday ThrowbackHere is this week's Thursday Throwback:<br />
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First Posted: Saturday November 01, 2008 Entitled: Compromise</div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 180%; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: "georgia";"><span style="font-size: large;">The struggles, the battles, the wars, too many to recall. Way to many what ifs or should haves to worry about, what is done is done, there is no going back, there is no do-overs. If I am to survive, there must be a compromise.</span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;">..</span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Self Commentary: A fellow blogging friend <a href="http://sooo-this-is-me.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sooo-this-is-me</a> penned a very good post entitled: Circling Back that made me recall and share this one. It is a struggle looking backwards and wandering what our life would be like today if we had chosen a different path. Would our life be better, would we be happier, would the regrets we place upon ourselves now be completely erased or just replaced with others. It is what it is, there is no do overs. no going back. We learn, we struggle, we accept to find peace and acceptance with ourselves. We look for the compromise of what if...with what is...and we survive.</span></div>
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Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-32705629190780072922017-04-18T04:12:00.001-07:002017-04-18T04:12:03.971-07:00Tuesday Teaser<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Blindfolded, tied up and completely naked...</span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Would you ever allow yourself to be in this situation?</span></div>
Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-9947071719977598032017-04-13T03:00:00.000-07:002017-04-13T03:00:14.788-07:00Thursday Throwback<h2 class="date-header">
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First posted: August 18,2006 -- Entitled: Beating Of My Heart (Post #1)<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";">There I was telling myself that it happened. I thought it happened. I believed it happened. I even felt it happened, so I guess it did happen, at least to some degree. I already knew it had the capacity to give and share on different levels and here at this very moment, it was showing to me yet another one, a level never felt before. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";">I told myself this was the one.<br /><br />But I was, a young man, almost sure of himself, giving his heart away, placing upon it no restrictions, I gave it freely. It gave its love, it shared its love, somehow there was more than enough for all that entered, each had their own place, safely and securely held within its beating walls. Years came and went, people came and went, but my love for them remained constant, always there. I held fast to the course laid down before me, never knowing my heart, the very heart that beat within the walls of my chest held a secret. This heart on mine that forced the very life sustaining blood through my veins held a secret. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";">Within its beating walls, behind a locked door, lay a room, never before opened, no one ever allowed to enter. Until, he came into my life. How did he know about this room, when I didn't? Where did he find the key, when I didn't know of its hiding place? What would happen if he ever opened the door? </span><br />
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(Stay tuned for the rest of the story) <br />
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First posted: August 22, 2006 -- Entitled: Secret Room (Post #2)<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";">A secret room, a locked room within my heart, guarded never before entered and somehow he had discovered it. My heart had betrayed me, revealing to him its secret. No one before him had ever ventured this far inside, I had never allowed it. Before I knew it, he had placed the key within the lock, the tumblers fell into place, the door unlocked, opened and inside he stepped. I don't know the moment it happened, only that it happened. I've tried many times to remember just when it happened but I honestly can't for the life of me, I only know it happened. A feeling never known before, a feeling never felt before washed over me. I had fooled myself into believing I had felt it, known it, and was living it, but this was different, nothing compared, nothing before had prepared me for this.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";">I had fell in love with my best friend.</span><br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia;">Self Commentary: He made me realize the capacity of my heart, the ability to love without question, without expectation. There were no secrets between us, the "Closet Door" was open and he accepted me for me. His acceptance was without question, there were no expectations.....but, life is cruel. The journey we walk has many twists and turns and we never know what lies beyond the next bend in its road. A perfect day can easily turn into a nightmare. This is what happened to me. The cruel hand of fate twisted the dagger into my soul, waited to see its blood run red and my heart break with tears of anguish before withdrawing the cold steel from my body. This love shared ended with his death. Why did I not see it coming......why did he not tell me of his pain, his anguish, his despair.....why?</span></div>
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Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-37304450104665922492017-04-11T01:00:00.000-07:002017-04-11T01:00:20.126-07:00Tuesday Teaser<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Breakfast in Bed! Let's see what would I try first?</span></div>
<br />Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-78485370719327295052017-04-06T13:25:00.001-07:002017-04-06T14:31:58.910-07:00Thursday Throwback<span style="color: #cc3300;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;"></span></b><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "georgia";"></span></b><b><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia;"></span></b><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: small;">I need to feel your arms holding me, me holding you. </span><br /><span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: small;">I need to feel the warmth from your body. </span><br /><span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: small;">I need to feel your skin against my skin.<br />I need to see you breathe.<br />I need to feel alive.<br />I can not think of anything I would rather be doing.<br />I can not think of a place I would rather be.<br />Here with you, is enough.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></h2>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: small;">Self Commentary: Nothing else need be said then or now. </span></h2>
Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-65996416782169385302017-04-04T01:00:00.000-07:002017-04-04T01:00:15.464-07:00Tuesday Teaser<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've always been a shower guy, but this sure looks good after the day I've had....</div>
<br />Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-67611891795386655892017-03-30T03:35:00.000-07:002017-03-30T03:35:55.145-07:00Thursday Throwback<h2 class="date-header">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">First Posted</span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">: Wednesday, December 07,2005 </span></span></h2>
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<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2813/1330/1600/alone.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2813/1330/320/alone.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a>It's ironic, the cards life deals you to play with. First of all, I've always been the one other people gravitates to when it comes to talking. A friend once referred to me as a "People Magnet" seemingly never meeting a stranger or turning anyone away if they needed to talk, often times general conversations leading into entrusted secrets. I guess, it all comes from being a good listener and being able to keep those secrets. Now on the other hand, as you probably can tell, one of the hardest, most difficult things to do in this world, for me, is talk about myself. I have never fully opened up to anyone and it is probably obvious to those of you stopping by why this is. Life dealt me a deck of cards I thought I had to play. If fact, I have played them into a good life according to most other people's standards. Don't get me wrong, it's been and still is a good life but its been a life totally lived for others. If I had to live it over, there are things I would never change but the pathway I talked about in a earlier post would have been a different one, it may not have been better, but it would have been more honest and true. Let me say here, I'm not seeking pity, I'm not seeking sympathy, actually this post is leading to something totally the opposite. Even though the "inside me" feels like the person looks in today's pic empty, alone.........today's post is actually one of THANKS: I thank each and every one of you guys that stop by, that takes the time to leave a comment, or send an email. If you only knew how much I envy you, for being open, for being honest to yourself, and above all for being "my listener". Thank you for allowing me to share the other person inside..... </div>
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<span style="color: red;">Self Commentary: There is a lot of guys still living in a dank, dark closet not out of wanting to but out of obligations, loyalty, and commitments to family. Often at a great sacrifice to their own happiness. It is what it is, as least, it is what it is, for me. Finding acceptance instead of condemnation is hard and I am so lucky, I have found acceptance with my blogging friends and family. I do so envy you and I'm so proud of those of you for finding the courage to step out into the light and live openly, proudly, and for making it possible for others to follow suit. I thank each of you for giving me your acceptance, for allowing me to live, to share the closeted side of my life., for being my "listener". If I'm to be in this closet forever that is ok, acceptance has been made. Remember I seek no pity! After all, if I had it all in this life what would I have to look forward to in the next....</span></div>
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Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-73769257050362715802017-03-28T04:18:00.000-07:002017-03-28T04:18:02.139-07:00Tuesday Teaser<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tan Lines.... Yes or No???</span></div>
<br />Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-67253076303530774152017-03-25T15:42:00.000-07:002017-03-25T15:46:34.151-07:00Hypnotikos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Restless, tossing, turning, mind racing, unable to sleep. The harder I tried, the more it eluded me. Just out of reach hour after hour it teased. Looking at the red faced clock I counted off the seconds, minutes, hours. Slow deep breathes, trying to free the mind of the countless meaningless images - thoughts that swept in on the winds of a tornado they swirled round and round. Hard as I tried, I failed to fill the mind with darkness, the void of nothingness escaped off into the distance taking with it the restful sleep I sought. Night turned to day. It should be a day of calm, a day to rejuvenate the body, the mind, the soul. A day to forget the hectic week past but my mind continues to play every act of the week's play over and over. Sometimes in the chaos, it all shifts to next week and the calendar of things to do. My mind unable to compartmentalize things, the filing cabinet that usually can be found neatly organized is array with disorder. Where is a hypnotist when you need one.....</span>Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-43721714690004860552017-03-23T01:00:00.000-07:002017-03-23T01:00:17.159-07:00Thursday Throwback<h2 class="date-header">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">First Posted</span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">: Tuesday, August 14,2007</span></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">: Entitled: "Wet or Dry"</span></span></span></h2>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "georgia";"><i>Being home alone, nothing to do, bored out of my mind, I clicked into a chat room, a few days ago. What, hard to believe? Well, Annelle, I admit it, yes I do pray . . . I mean go to chat rooms. After weeding through, slipping and dodging those only interested in wanting to know, location, age, and always my favorite, how </i><b>BIG</b></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "georgia";"><i> is it, I met a guy that had been to the Land of Oz and gotten a brain. This guy impressed me, he turned out to be quite a conversationalist, well maybe typist, but none the less and more importantly he had a brain. Apparently, like me, he just wanted to talk. OK . . . OK, the whole conversation didn't consist only about global warming, we did talk about other things, as well. One of the more interesting topics that might make you raise an eyebrow was about pre-cum. Yes, you read it right, pre-cum. If you're a man, I'm sure you know about it. Steven, yes we had the same name, only spelled differently, apparently leaked like a faucet and at times had gotten himself into some embarrassing situations. I guess, if you think about it, hiding a hard-on is, well hard enough, but trying to conceal a wet spot could be a problem. How do you do it? I mean not do it, do it! But how do you hide your wet spot when it happens, he asked? Well, I don't, I replied. It is something that isn't a problem. Some of us do (leak), some of us don't, and I happen to be one of the ones that don't. Perhaps mine is broken, I typed. He knew some men didn't produce what some call the Nectar of the Gods, but had never met or talked with a guy that didn't have pre-cum. Gee thanks, I said, I don't know whether to feel honored or inadequate? He laughed and the conversation continued . . . of course, back to global warming!</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Self-Commentary: I know, I know too much information. It is something I don't really think about...can't miss what you never had, I guess. </span></div>
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Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-55182650067267450932017-03-21T16:16:00.000-07:002017-03-21T16:17:14.481-07:00Tuesday Teaser<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Pectoral Perfection, don't you think?</span><br />
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Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-83336362659227091492017-03-20T20:11:00.001-07:002017-03-20T20:13:14.007-07:00Jesus Is Gay<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Right hand is raised. I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, I will not lie. Stephen is a big fan of The Walking Dead. Don't come by unless you are going to sit down, remain quiet and watch it with me. Don't call, I will not answer the phone short of you having a heart attack and then that might be debatable. Take a aspirin... call me in a hour! Don't text and expect an answer right away, not going to happen. Responding to a text is not out of the ordinary if you know me. You already know, I will call you if it is over a one text conversation, but only after The Walking Dead. Seven seasons and I'm still hooked. This past week's episode didn't disappoint, we finally got an answer: JESUS IS GAY!<br />
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<br />Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-30481212545035327762017-03-16T01:00:00.000-07:002017-03-16T01:00:30.863-07:00Thursday Throwback<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">First Posted</span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">: Tuesday, May 09, 2006</span></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">: Entitled "Are You Man Enough"</span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><em>There is a question, but you don't ask it. I see it in your eyes before they look away. </em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><em>You wonder, if I ask the question, will I be able to bear the answer? I know it is the fear of hearing the answer that prevents you from asking. </em></span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><em>There is pain, I can feel it, I know it is there, there is no use in denying it, I've known you to long. </em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><em>Although you try, you can't hide it. It has always been there, it has always been the one thing that has kept us from being complete, you know it, as well as I, there is no use in denying it. </em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><em>The painted smile you wear in the light of day does not cover up the tears you allow out in the shadows of the night. How do I know, you ask? </em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><em>Remember, I know you, I know you better than you know yourself. You can hide things from all the others, but there is nothing you can hide from me.</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"><em>I know you to well. . . I am you.</em></span> </div>
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<span style="color: red;">Self Commentary: Where does the time go? It has almost been ten years since writing these words down. Literally, a lifetime ago. The painted smile, I still wear for the outward world to see. The pain and tears if I am to be honest to myself are still present. They are only allowed to be seen by the man in the mirror and shared here amongst friends .</span></div>
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Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-65952091507414952322017-03-14T01:00:00.000-07:002017-03-14T04:13:45.267-07:00Tuesday Teaser <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">This week is a Tuesday Teaser of a different kind. A photo from the shores of the Atlantic ocean and the beach! I stumbled across it and it got me to thinking. The coast of Georgia is a hop, skip, jump away from where I live. Numerous beaches, along it shores, and I hate to admit, but its been years since I have been to any of them. Years, since I have walked along the shore, years since I have felt the salty breeze of the ocean wind against my skin, and I have no one to blame other than myself. Life can not be this busy. Why do we do this to ourselves? I need to reevaluate the important things in my life.... I need to feel the sand beneath my feet.....</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
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<br />Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-39442492992632316442017-03-11T05:10:00.002-08:002017-03-11T05:10:55.226-08:00Dripping Penis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Gonorrhea symptoms in men</b></div>
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Greenish yellow or whitish discharge from the penis</div>
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Burning in the throat (due to oral sex)</div>
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Sometimes no symptoms exhibit</div>
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<span class="_Tgc _y9e">There are an estimated 820,000 new gonorrhea infections in the <b>US</b> each year. It not only affects the reproductive tract, but can also affect the mucus membranes of the mouth, throat, eyes, joints and rectum. </span></div>
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<span class="_Tgc _y9e">OK, enough with the scary stuff. Well, not really. If your "Johnson" is dripping anything other than the usual body fluids, and we all know what they should be, then it is a scary situation. But all drips are not the same, as was the two cases this week that came across my desk. Both men exhibited the classic signs, painful urination and of course the yellowish discharge, unprotected sex, etc. etc. Drop trousers and a culture we will do. I sure they thought you going to stick what, where,? MY JOHNSON! </span></div>
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<span class="_Tgc _y9e">Both cases were cleared for gonorrhea but both still had nasty bacterial infections. In fact, one had two different kinds of bacteria growing with heavy growth of each. The culprits in these cases turned out to be: Staph saprophyticus, Proteus mirabilis, E. coli. all easily treated. Especially since the E. coli was highly sensitive to all tested antibiotics, which would have been a different story if it had turned out as an ESBL. But that's a different story for a different time, and too boring of a tale.</span></div>
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<span class="_Tgc _y9e">Long story short, if your penis is dripping, get it checked out! Yes, it will require someone sticking a swab up your Johnson or at the least a first morning catch of urine....</span></div>
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<span class="_Tgc _y9e">Be responsible and wear protection if you don't know anything about the hole your sticking it in.... </span></div>
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Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-32604593630443045222017-03-09T01:00:00.000-08:002017-03-09T01:00:16.464-08:00Thursday Throwback<h2 class="date-header">
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Here is this week's Thursday Throwback. </span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">First Posted</span><span style="font-size: small;">: Tuesday, May 09, 2006</span></span><span style="font-size: small;">: Entitled "Searching"</span></h2>
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"Searching . . . searching for what?" he asked.<br />
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"If I knew, there would be no need to search," I say. I only know that it is out there, it is waiting.<br />
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"You're not making any sense, Stephen. I don't get you sometimes, I really think you were dropped on your head as a child.<br />
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Dropped on my head, huh? You really think that is what happened?<br />
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No answer comes back, only a shake of the head.<br />
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No matter, I think to myself. I know it is out there, it is waiting, I will find it. <br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "georgia";">Self commentary: Never leave a stone unturned, never give up on your search....</span><br />
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Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-3515409310082645212017-03-07T01:00:00.000-08:002017-03-07T01:00:17.717-08:00Tuesday Teaser<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The clock didn't go off, you overslept, you are late for work a second time this week....you go back into the bedroom to get your briefcase before rushing out the door....you see this out stretched hand beckoning you back into bed. </span></div>
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<br />Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11483662500004895811noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14630771.post-26790522485440577882017-03-03T13:36:00.000-08:002017-03-03T13:36:13.337-08:00Regrets of A Straight Kind<div>
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When all is said and done, will you have any regrets in life? Well, Stephen will have a few, some you already know and I will not rehash them in this post.. This post is about regrets of the straight kind, and is one, never shared. I regret, ok here it goes, I regret not knowing how to play an instrument. I know, silly right? What instrument you may ask? Well, if I haven't already given it away by matching the photo with the post I share, it would be the Cello. I love the sound, it warms the cockles of my heart and at the same time its resonating deep sound chills me to the bone. The bow as it slides over the strings, the sound of its music, breathtakingly beautiful. I know what you're thinking, but your wrong. The proverbial can't teach an old dog new tricks definitely does apply here. I know my limitations and I'm not ashamed to admit them. The skill to master an instrument I did not acquire but that's ok. I am content to sit on the sideline and listen.. Not one but two cellos and a old time favorite: 2CELLOS - Hurt</div>
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