He Lust Me...He Lust Me Not...I Lust Them All Not

What is it about the rain, that I love. I mean it can be so many different characteristics and embodiments. When it's hot, it can be refreshing...when its cold, it can be dreary...It can be sad, it can make you happy, it can be soothing, it can be terrifying, it can make you sing, apparently based on some movie titles, and it can be very romantic. I feel like I have a raining day spirit. I don't know I like the rain. It fits me somehow.

Tonight, it's raining. A cold, damp rain. It's raining hard. It's that season, I suppose. Spring gets the stigma of being the raining season, with "April Showers brings May flowers" saying, but no the late Summer/Fall season is definitely the raining season, by it being hurricane season. Anyway for me the rain is very sexy. Something about it is very sensuous to me. It makes me want to...well, touch somebody...it makes me want to touch myself, as girlie as that might sound. Nothing obscene I'm touching, just over the sweater nipple rubbing. Okay maybe under the sweater nipple rubbing and perhaps a little pinching as well. Tonight makes me think of a night I had a little over a month ago, maybe slightly longer. Before I had given up on sucking...well before I declared a ban on oral sex. A night I met this guy. Ironically, I ran into him tonight, a night dark and rainy, like the night I met him. I ran into him as I was driving, like that night. Tonight, I think about that night we spent.

The night started off clean and crisp, but most importantly it started off dry. I never expected the night overall to end the way it ended. To be completely honest, I can't remember where I was going, or where I was coming from. I do remember it was a Sunday night. I notice him at the stop light. He is driving a white two door Honda, with a huge spoiler on the back. We make eye contact, then we return our faces back forward to the road ahead. We meet at the next stoplight a block ahead. I look over at him, he is still looking ahead. As if immediately sensing my glance he looks at me, we make eye contact again. However this time something is different, it last several seconds longer...too long. We take off, both get caught at yet another stoplight. Always at the same length of cars back in our lanes; whether it's both first or both third, always the same. This time I sense his glance first I then look over at him glancing my way. This time I give him the head nod up, the man's hello, well in certain circles. He returns it. It starts to drizzle. I'm a little surprised, hadn't heard the weather. Didn't know it was supposed to rain. The night just didn't feel as if rain was in store. We both look forward, but our glances at each other always returns. I've been here before many, many times. This interaction feels very familiar to me, almost like the feeling of home. We take off again, this time however I change it up. I test the feeling, see if it is what I know it to be. Before we happen to get caught at another stoplight I speed up and pull in front of him. After a minute or two I put on my single to turn at the next corner. He does the same. I drive some more, as he follows. Even though it's not where I was planning on going, I keep driving. The drizzle now suddenly turns into a fast rain fall, at this point. I make another turn, he makes the same one. I move into another lane, so that we are back to driving side by side. All though the now heavy rain is obstructing my view, on windows other than the front windshield, I can see his head facing me and glancing at me. I decide to take this to the next level. I get back in front of him, and pull off into an empty parking deck, out of the rain. Like he has been doing for the past several blocks, he follows suit. I pull into a space he pulls into a space on the opposite side right behind me. Let me just make this DISCLAIMER...THIS IS NOT FOR EVERYBODY, DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME, THIS IS NOT FOR AMATEURS. It takes time to get this 6th sense. I pause for a minute, wonder whether I should make the first move or him. Fortunately he makes the decision for me. He gets out of his car and makes his way over to me. I make a quick glance into my vanity mirror and check myself out, real quick. He approaches my driver window, as I'm rolling it down. I am greeted by...well not what I was expecting. I didn't know what he was. I mean I didn't know what race he was. I thought with all the glances he was black, but he wasn't black. However he didn't quite come off white either. Real quickly in my mind, I try to figure out what race he was, I was getting a blank. Not sure if it was the light in the parking deck or it being night time, or what exactly was the deal. I summed up his style instantly though...skater/alternative. He was wearing a black and white checkered hat turned backwards, with DC logo on it. I grew up with white boys like him, Skater brand, like Quiksilver. Which I believe was the logo on his shirt, but I could be wrong. Not sure what his shoes were but they looked like what Vans use to look like. He looked like someone who listens to Linkin Park, Creed, Evanescence, or maybe Nickleback perhaps. If he listens to rap, then it's that rap/rock combo type, like Gym Class Heroes or something like the Jay-Z and Linkin Park collaboration album. Then there was his size. He was kinda on the small side. I'm not talking about his height, which was 5'5/5'6 or so. That wasn't the problem, because big things can come in small packages. It was more so about his weight. I have no problem with slender or lean guys, just like I have no problem with medium, thick, or big guys, but he seemed a bit...hmm on the scraggly side. He just looked scrawny, maybe lean or maybe slim, but definitely a little on the scrawny side. He didn't exactly do it for me on the first attraction. He greets me, I'm polite and return the greeting. He gives ma a "What's up with you?" and "What's going on?" comments. I give him vague answers back..."Nothing Much" and "Just Chillin'." We finally get to the point where he tells me he was hanging out with his friends drinking, but he wasn't ready to go home yet blah blah blah. I instantly know this wasn't going anywhere, for me. Maybe sense I felt like that, I should have ended it right there. I wasn't really feeling him instantly, he wasn't my style. However I didn't end it. I decide not to be rude and say "Okay, I'm not really into you, from first impression...So bye, it's been real!" I amused the conversation for a minute, he asks to get in. I suggest we talk somewhere else, because the parking deck says, "Private, No Parking! Unauthorized vehicles will be towed." He thinks it's late and we will be fine, but is willing to follow me to where ever. I suggest we talk somewhere else. Just talk. He goes back to his car as, I drive back down the parking deck ramp. In my mind I'm thinking we will do a little talk, before I give him the ole shove off.

He follows back on to the street. We park on the side of the street. The rain is coming down now. In like 10 minutes the night has went from peaceful to as if someone opened up the sky and decided to pour buckets of water on us. The 8 second run from his car to mine, leaves him soaked to the core. He looks like he has jumped into a swimming pool. I turn the heat on a little and turn hit the heat button on the passenger seat, heated seat option, so he can dry off. In my mind I am thinking this definitely, probably won't go anywhere, now that he is wet. Since it is still up in the air about his race. On the off chance he is white, I know in a minute I'm not going to be feeling him. Since well, when white people get rained on they sorta, give off a...well...well they give off a wet potato chip...fragrance. I don't think that's racist to say that is it? I mean I know I have white readers, so I don't think that is offensive, just my opinion. I grew up in a majority white neighborhood, and whenever it rained, well the bus to school would, well...you know what nevermind. He takes off his hat, and swings his hair back. It's very dark, not black, but a deep dark brown on the edge of black. He looks different now, now sorta light Puerto Rican or maybe Dominican, however I don't get that Latin fire. He tells me his name is Dian. I throw him one of my DL alias. He tells me how he just finished dropping off one of his friends, who was to drunk to drive home. He had been celebrating Bestie or Best Friend holiday weekend. It's a holiday, where you spend all weekend with your best friends and drink. I never heard of this weekend or celebration. Sounds like something white frat boys would come up with. He tells me though after celebrating, he didn't want to go back home. He got into a horrible argument with his girlfriend earlier that afternoon, and he wasn't ready to go home to her. She apparently lives with him. She was angry, because he didn't spend the weekend with her and consider her one of his best friends. He says something that changes the vibe in the car. He tells me, that all he wants to do right now is forget about her and her drama. Dian asks me, "Can you make me forget about her?" I look at him for a second, I don't know it was the rain that was changing me or was it, what the rain did to him. I mean the rain sorta gave him a mini makeover; now with the hat gone, his hair was wet and slicked back, his shirt was clinging to his body, for everything it had. He just looked cuter suddenly. I tell him, "All I can do is try. Where do you want me to take you?" He lets me no anywhere I want to, he looks in the back-seat and he says right here if you want. He climbs over my seat, into the back. I drive off though. about a few minutes away to a parking lot. It's empty. Two apartment buildings and an office building surround it. I pull up into a dark corner underneath some trees. I sit there for a minute and look back at him. He is laying down now, looking at me. I put on a CD, The Dream's "Love vs. Money" album. I told you guys on my last Music of the Moment Post, that I got busy to that album. I jump out of my car and get into the back seat. I wasn't thrilled that he climbed over my seat, I wasn't going to do it as well. I'm wet now too, however not as wet as him. For a minute or two we just sit there, and say nothing. I try to ease the moment, by reclining the back seats. Like I've said before I have an SUV that the back-seats recline down. The third row just folds down, but the second row reclines back. I made us a bit more comfortable. He leans back sorta diagonally, against the window. Where his head is in between the window and the seat, and his body is stretched out. Well, the first thing I do is take off those wet shoes, of his. I get up and emulate his body except on top of him. As I hover over top of him, I think about how I am going to start this, but more importantly where this is going.

As I lean in to kiss his neck. The night sky lights up. Although I'm paying attention at what is before me, I can't help but wonder in the back of my mind, where this weather is coming from. It's lighting and thundering now. However I must say it really added to the moment. If anyone saw the Katherine Heigl movie, "27 Dresses," it was very much like that car scene, when their car got stuck in the mud. Heigl and her love interest, went at it in the back-seat of their car in the thundering rain. Sexy in movies, sexy in real life. You really must try it! Anyway, I'm starting off slow, I then peel off his wet shirt. I'm doing foreplay-esque like things. He then pulls my shirt off over my head. Peeling wet clothes another must do activity. After a while of...hmm 2nd base like activity, we kick it up a notch to 3rd and 4th base activity. It's hard to say when exactly but after a while, some odd behavior started to service. Not by him though, but by me. That's right I started to do some things uncharacteristic of myself. Now in my mind, I believe we had "The Talk." I mean I have "The Talk" most of the time now. Unless I am getting with someone who isn't new to me. However I'm not positive if I had "The Talk" with Dian. I try to remember if I did, but nothing is coming to memory. The reason why I question whether or not I did, is because...well, I kissed him. I don't usually kiss guys...I usually discuss that in "The Talk," but either I did and got caught up in the moment or I didn't and still got caught up in the moment. It's rare I meet someone, that I just get the urge to want to kiss them, and this was it. I'm also foggy about who o kissed who first. I think I leaned into his face, as I was kissing on his neck, and he followed through. Either way, we went to town on the kissing front. It was very...very passionate and hot. I quickly wanted his pants off, and more peeling. Let's cut to the chase, not much longer, we both were completely naked. Yes, int he back-seat of my SUV, in the parking lot of some buildings, late at night, in the thundering and lightning rain, we were completely naked. Correction I had my socks on, and he had his tongue ring. Yep, he had a tongue ring. No other piercings and tattoos, just a tongue ring. Why is it, any other race of men other than black men, can have a tongue ring, and not instantly be summed up as gay. I didn't even realize he had a tongue ring to much later in the evening. I discovered it, with all the kissing. I really didn't get much from it, when he was going down on me. I didn't get much...as Quincy would say, life from his ring, until the kising. I must say it must do more for females, than it does for guys orally. Either that or he didn't know how to use it right on a guy. I've had other people use their tongue rings on me before, and not much extra from it. I didn't have a ring and I made him quiver, when I was down south. He was pretty good though. In fact everything was pretty good. Sensuous yet animalistic. My first impression of him being scrawny wasn't exactly the most on point observation. He wasn't scrawny, just lean and thin. He was easy to flip around, and switch things up, when needed.

There was nothing heard or said, by either of us. The only sounds was from the sound of the rain falling hard on the roof of my car, and The Dream singing about sweating out his girls hair. Speaking of hair, their was a lot of hair pulling, by me. I mean I really discovered that night I am really into hair pulling. I'm sure I have done it before, maybe even several times perhaps, but I didn't notice until that night, it was my thing. His hair wasn't super long or anything, just perhaps an inch and half or two; but I loved running my hands through his hair and pulling his head back. Things went like that, from both of us. When there was a time when he had me by my wrists tightly and stretched and pulled to the side, he locked them tight as he kissed and did things. I would counter this with doing the same, except I would pull his arms behind his back. When he did it I didn't fight too hard, when I did it he couldn't do much, but submit. Hmm...good times. When we ended up in the position, where he was straddling me, as I was sitting, back to the seat and legs open; there was nothing more I wanted to do, but be inside him. However here's the thing. I was not planning on this night turning out, like it did. I didn't bring enough protection. He didn't bring it, because he leaves it at home, for him and his girlfriend. You don't know how much I wanted to put clothes on, and head to the nearest drug store or 7-eleven. He didn't want the moment to stop. I improvised on giving him the same feeling, but it wasn't the same. He felt so good in so many other ways.

As the lightning lid up the night and flash on us every so often. We would get a sexy view of what we were doing to each other. I found his spot. It wasn't hard, because it is located behind his left ear, but I found it. Unfortunately he didn't find mine, because it is hard to locate, but I utilized his. Some may wonder how did I realize I found his spot. Well, the way his body would react, whenever I would stay on it, and not relieve up. His body would shack and twitch in my arms. Now that I think about it, he may have had one ear piercing, not sure, but I think I remember playing with it in my mouth. I didn't want to use up this new power, I had over him, but it was fun to see him react, whenever I went to the ecstasy spot. Anyway like all good things, they must come to an end. And after about over half way through our second go round of The Dream CD, I started to wind down our experience. Just him straddling me and him in my arms, with our now sticky bodies embracing. He didn't seem to want to end the night. He kept saying, "I never want to stop kissing you" I would reply, "I'm sure you will reach a point, where enough is enough." However he was definitely testing what I said, because he didn't want to give it up. "He then said something that shocked me, but in my mind those things you say, when you are in the moment. He said, "It is official, you are the best kisser I have ever had." I shrugged this comment off though, replying, "I'm sure you say that to your girlfriend too." He looked me in my eyes and said "No, I don't, I can't get enough of your lips." This was making me uncomfortable, for some reason. I changed the subject, to ask him the question that had been on my mind, all night. I asked him, "What are you?...What nationality are you?" He beginned to laugh. He revealed that he gets that all the time. He tells me, "I'm Native American...I'm an Indian." I was shocked, didn't expect that answer, but the suddenly it did make sense.I tell him, that congratulations, he was my first Indian.

This lead us into a discussion about his relationship. For over an hour and a half I was his lover, for the next 45 minutes I was Dian's therapist. He started talking about what lead him to the place that night. He told me, he had, had enough of his girlfriend, and was ready to end things. He loved her, but he was starting to very much not like her. They had been together for two years. For the past year however, she was living with him. She had an argument with her parents, and moved out, and in with him. The problem now was, that she was there all the time. He felt like he was being suffocated. At 20 years old, he felt trapped. He went to school, had two jobs, a girlfriend who was in his face from the moment he got home, because he was never at home, do to the school and two jobs. Then when he got home he had no place that was his, because of her and his roommates. He had two roommates in his three bedroom apartments, but now that she was living with them now, he had no room to call his own. He basically confided, that he was coming apart, and she wasn't helping the situation. I asked him, is that was why he got with someone else. He confirmed it. He said tonight was the straw. All he wanted was to have some fun without her, and she brought more drama into his stressful life. The one question, that was on my mind, was...Why a man though, why not another girl? He told me, that he guess old feelings never die. He hadn't been with a guy since high school. That he had been faithful to his girlfriend the whole relationship. As he was telling me this, I could see a change in him. I have seen this before. The what have I just done face, was starting to reveal ugly head. That look of finally realizing what they have just done, and guilt moving in. I try to ease his mind, and tell him, that we all need our space sometimes, a place or a time, we call our own. The counselor in me comes out. I tell him he needs to talk to her about his feelings and what he needs. If she doesn't listen or things doesn't change he needs to set out time for himself, even if she doesn't know about it. I tell him though to explain to her that you having some me time will ultimately be great for their relationship. Him having me time, would allow him to be happier, and ultimately him being a happier less stressed person, will be good for their relationship. If things continue, then they will ultimately not have a relationship, especially if he find comfort in men arms. I then basically begin to teach him how to lie to her and find me time. I told Dian to tell her that he is at work or at school, on a time, when he isn't. It won't be hard for her to believe because he is supposedly always at work or school. Then he needs to take that time to either, go to the movies by himself, goto the gym, library, Miniature golfing, anything that makes him happy, but alone. He then reveals, that in his two year relationship, he isn't sure if he could lie successfully, because he has never lied. He told me not, once has he ever lied to her, maybe not told her things, but never lied. I asked what was he planning on telling her that night, because at this point it is around 3 or 4 in the morning, the rain is still coming down. He hadn't been home or called her since their fight at like 1 that afternoon. So for over 12 hours, he hadn't checked in. I knew the truth wasn't going to cut it, especially hooking up with me. He begins to kiss me again. I pull away and tell him, he needs to get home and face the music.

We get dressed. His clothes now dry. I drive him back to his car. We say our good-byes. I don't push the subject, but I offer him my number, that if he ever wants to talk, hit me up. I then do, something I rarely ever do, but it was a strange night all around. I give him my real name. I told him sorry about the other name, but that's just how I do. He questions whether lying is my thing. I don't know how to answer that. I just shrug. He runs to his car. We both pull off. I think about it for a moment, and I get him to roll down, his window. As crazy as it may seem, I tell him to double check the number I gave him. Sometimes I'm use to giving out the wrong number. He laughs, and checks it, and we go our separate ways. It doesn't bother me, it is what it is. He had a girlfriend and I knew it, and was cool with it. On the ride home I realise how crazy the night was. I'm out in the middle of the night getting my groove on buck naked, in my car, in basically a flash flood. On my way home, on the major street going the opposite of where I was coming from, the street was washed away. About 10 cars were stuck in the water, with the water around the height of their windows. Police and firetrucks trying to rescue the cars out. My side of the street was fine. I was just thinking to myself how crazy it was and the night I had, when I should have been home in the safety of my home. However I did have fun, even if I didn't expect to hear from him. I never him from him after that night, in fact.

That is until tonight. It's raining tonight, just like that night, however it's been raining for a couple days now. I'm out on a whole other side of the city, than when I met Dian. However I'm on a one way street, and I see this white two door Honda, with the big spoiler, and I think of Dian. I look at the driver and to my surprise it's him. I drive side by side him, thinking he will glance my way. He doesn't His face never strays from looking forward. When we get to the stoplight I think it's my chance to say hay to him. He quickly looks to the side, but back forward he goes. I think to myself, he must not realize it's me. I roll down my window, and give a slight honk. He then does something that surprises me. I can see his face, even through his wet window. He rolls his eyes, and looks to me. Despite that I give him a smile, and motion for him to roll down his window. He rolls the eyes for the second time, but he begrudgingly begins to roll down the window, then he stops. He looks as if he is thinking about something, then he takes his hands and waves me off harshly and rolls what little window he had down, back up. I just look at him for a minute. I'm kind put off by this. I have never got that reaction before. I just without thinking about it, just begin to nod my head, slowly. I don't break my glare, I just roll up my window. You know what I didn't want to get back with him. I just honestly wanted to say hi and see how things were working out, in his situation. If things had gotten better with the girlfriend. To me it's common courtesy to just give a hello, to a past sexual experience. It wasn't as if he was with someone, and I wanted to blow his spot up. It's like the unwritten rule, you give acknowledgment. If it ended not so well, then when you run into that experience, you just give them eye, and nothing else. I have done that. Ran into a bad ending experience at Walmart. I just gave them the eye, and likewise, nothing more nothing less. Sometimes you give a slight nod. However when you run into a good one, then you greet them; or give them the black man chin raise, when your head nods up. He dismissed me. As I looked at him, he looked at me out the side of his eyes. I looked forward and waited for my light to turn green. It was the end of our one way street, and he was turning right and I was turning right. He took off, when the light turn green. However here is the catcher, the car behind him, slowed down. I hadn't noticed the gray Avalon, but it was another past sexual conquest. I couldn't believe it, you would think I lived in a small town or something. He then gives me the head nod and follows Dian to the next stoplight. As I turned left, I looked at the two cars in my rearview mirror. Now it could be my imagination, but as I looked at the gray Avalon follow Dian from lane to lane, and finally ending up in the same left turning lane, blocks away, it hit me. I think Gray Avalon and Dian, where heading to the same place. One past sexual conquest hooking up with another. In my mind I was glad. After Dian dissed me, he deserved gray Avalon. With his lousy in bed self. As petty as it sounds, I kept thinking about how I am so much cuter than gray Avalon, with such a better personality. It wasn't the lazy, trifling sex that turned me off from him, is was his smug attitude that did it. We hooked up twice. On the second time, he had a new car. I asked him about it, and he gave me this bs, about how he was balling, with multiple cars, and how he needed to get rid of a couple of them, for tax purposes. It was comments like that, which really turned me off. That and the fact he was really extremely lazy in the sack. He blamed it all the time on the alcohol. I sorta blame it on his size, because he was a really big guy. How hope he crushes Dian.
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All the way home, I couldn't help but feel hurt. I can't explain it. I was fine with it just being an extremely hot one night sexual experience, but his attitude to night, hurt me. However that was the bad part, it was my anger. Not at Dian, but at my self. I was so angry, that I was getting upset at someone I barely knew or gave a flying flip about. No matter how much I talked to myself I couldn't let my feelings go. It felt as if, someone kicked me in the stomach. The more I tried not to be upset by this, the more I got angry, that I couldn't let it go.

Then it hit me. I started to think about it all. Tonight, the night I gave up sucking dick, that crazy ex Con, who kept calling me his girl, the married guy, who I haven't really talked about, Von and his recent bull shit, and it all from this year, and last year, so on. I realize I'm tired. I'm tired of it all. I really am. I'm all bull shit out. I mean I use to be able to take it as much as I dished it, but now I'm not dishing it out, and now I can't take it anymore. I just need a break from it all. I need space from this world. I need a break from these men. Now I'm not saying I'm going to be celibate or give up sex all together. No need to back myself into goals, I can't accomplish. All I'm saying is I need a rest from it all. I need a break. Maybe it was meant to be to hear about everyone else's long sex breaks. Maybe it's time I devoted that energy somewhere as. Time to but this area in a box for now.

I'm not your Girl...I'm not the Woman...I'm not the Bitch

It's weird how a subject seems to pop up and show it's face, multiple times in your life, around the same time. Well, this is how this post was developed. All these things seemed to happen in the same week or so.

So it all started when I'm watching "Brothers and Sisters" with, Momma Dearest, my mother. Well, we are watching the show and the two men, who are the gay couple have a scene and they are arguing about something. Out of no where Momma Dearest asks, "So which one is the Man and which one is the Woman?" I know what she is talking about, but set on trying to ignore it, I answer it honestly as I can, trying to shut it down where this is heading. I reply "I don't know what you are talking about, they both are men." Well, maybe not as honestly as I could, but enough where maybe she gets my point. However she doesn't. She then replies, "You know what I mean. Which one is playing the woman and which one is playing the man?" I still don't pull myself into the conversation, so I reply again, "No I don't know what you are talking about. I see two men there, Mom." She rolls her eyes and gives me a sigh, like she is an expert on these things. She then goes into explaining these "types" of situations. So she says, "In these types of situations, there is always one person playing the woman and one playing the man. You know what I'm talking about, like with lesbians, one is the man and one is the woman." I say something, hopefully that will shut down this stupid conversation, kinda of an awkward one for me at that. I reply, "Mom, if You can't figure out which one is the man and which one is the woman, then guess what?...they both are men." She just gives me a look, like why does my son have to be so difficult.

Here's the thing...why can't two men, just be two men who are romantic or having sex? Why does one or the other have to be considered "The Man" in the relationship and the other man considered, "The Woman"?

Here's the thing as frustrating as it is. I really can't be angry at her ignorance. That's what it is, just plain ole fashion ignorance. I mean when I think about it. She is only basing her knowledge on the only two OPENLY gay men she knows. She may know many, but she don't know she knows they are gay. Moving on... She is only basing her knowledge on the two actually open gay men, she has had a frequent acquaintance with. Coincidentally, both from her hair salon experience. The first guy, I believe his name was Arthur. Well, Momma Dearest used to go to this salon that Arthur used to do hair at. Not sure if he owned it or not, but he did hair there. He wasn't Momma Dearest hairdresser, I think he had the chair next to her normal hairdresser at the time. Anyway Arthur was a bit on the feminine side. He used to where some woman's appeal occasionally. If he wore men's clothing...well it just seemed to wear differently on him, than your average guy. He used to wear his hair in finger waves and wet n' wavy. You get the time period I am giving you, like mid 90s. Anyway Arthur and his boyfriend got married, or well had a civil ceremony, during the time my Mom used to go to his salon. Although my Mom didn't go to the wedding, she did see the pictures that was taken. Arthur had his full wedding party picture framed and on the wall near his chair. Now as I stated Arthur was a bit feminine, and in his relationship, his boyfriend was more masculine than Arthur. In the wedding, Arthur's future husband wore a black tuxedo, and Arthur being the feminine one out of the two, opted for something more traditional than a white tuxedo. Something on the lines of a big white wedding dress with a huge train and a head piece. It didn't quite end there either. The groomsmen wore traditional black tuxedos, and well Arthur's bridesmaids, wore traditional pink gowns. The only non traditional element was that not all of Arthur's bridesmaids were women. Half were men as well. So you have the "bride" in her virginal white gown along side his groom, and his bridesmaids and "bridesmen". Unfortunately Arthur died a couple years later. Either form Aids related complications or from domestic abuse. I can't remember exactly which one it was. I know his husband gave him Aids, because he was unsafely and unprotected cheating on him, and his husband was physically abusing him badly as well. Either way he died from the relationship. The other gay man, my Mom knows is, from the hair salon she attends now. I will say this he does dress like a man, however it's only 25 to 30 percent of the time though. That's right the other 70 to 75 percent of the time it's as a woman with a different name I believe. I could be wrong though could be the same name for both persona's. He is a professional musician. When he is working and playing music he is a man, strictly for the job. when he comes to the shop dressed as a man, then you know he must be off to a gig or to do something music related, at the church. He also is a lead musician at a big church. The church found out about his other life, and had an instant intervention at his house, and prayed and "delivered him from his wicked and sinful ways." He then gave them all of his sinful female clothes and wigs. However all he really gave them was his old hair and clothes that he wouldn't dare be caught in the street in. He only rocks the "new new." Anyway, any other time...which is whenever he leaves the house, he is in full drag...wig, makeup, stiletto heels...the whole nine! I mean the one time I saw him. He had this long brown hair in a bun, with a pink fur head wrap, Baby Phat jeans, pink timberland stiletto boots, with pink fur at the top of the boots, and some pink top with pink fur as well. She was ghetto chic, all pinked out like she had been to a Cam'ron garage sale. He had some thug boyfriend too, because as you can guess she was the feminine one.

I mean these are my mom's reference to what gay life is like. So it's no wonder she thinks that in all gay situations there must be a woman and a man. Here's the thing. She's not alone. It seems to be everywhere. This referring, calling or saying that one of the men in a homosexual situation is the woman, in the relationship. However I can't deny I have been there too. I have had the same thoughts running through my mind in certain situations. However now, it's beginning to be so frustrating, to hear.

Here's the deal. It all comes down to us putting traditional heterosexual roles and ideals, onto homosexual...I don't know...way of life? In complete heterosexual roles, we have a tendency of defining what is the female role and the male role. The sort of "You hunt it and I cook it" mentality. The belief that the man goes out and makes the money and the woman tends to the home. Now granted this is not the way of life for many now. Situations vary and are different all over the board now. However we still have this attachment to the traditions. If one person in a homosexual situation happens to be softer or more gentle, maybe likes to cook, cleans well, more concerned about the way they look, sensitive, then most are quick to think well theses are more characteristics associated with a female; then they must be the woman, in their homosexual involvement. If a person seems to be harder, tougher, rugged, more of the provider, likes sports, more of the leader in the situation, more thuggish or manly in some fashion, then people tend to associate that with characteristics of men, therefor they must be the Man. I've thought this myself. When I had my first date with a man...which by the way I think I will be telling in the near future, because it regards someone I want to really talk about on my blog, so look out for that. Anyway when I went on my first date with a man, I kept trying to remind myself, that I am not the woman. I never wanted to come off as the woman in the date. Whether it came to opening doors for me, paying, anything...I never wanted to be considered the woman.

There is this new show on HBO, called "Bored to Death" Its about a writer, Jonathan, who is blocked, so he decides to become an unlicensed detective on Craigslist; to unblock his writers' block. Anyway the show is cute for what it is, but the real funny element to the show is Ted Danson's character, George. Each week Ted Danson character is getting himself in some situation to get a girl, or to maintain a young girl. One week he was on hiatus from women, because one gave him herpes on his lips. Anyway George is a neurotic late 50s something, functioning alcoholic pot head, who is the Editor and Chief, for a major magazine. Well do to the recession, magazine sales and subscriptions has gone down; however the biggest hit is coming from the women. His female subscriptions are down 30 percent. So what does he opt to do, instead of getting more female writers and articles like suggested to him?...he decides to become gay. His therapist advises him to become gay, in order to get in touch with his feminine side. The theory is that women like gay men, they feel comfortable and can relate to them, so in order to increase his female subscriptions, he needs to become gay. He doesn't decide to take slow steps in the baby pool. He decides to jump head first into the deep in of the pool, i.e. have sex with a man. As George is discussing his decision to become gay, he makes it seem okay to be gay, by referring that the great British and American actor he admires, Lawrence Olivier was in a gay relationship with another great American actor, Danny Kaye. As they are talking the subject comes up by Jonathan, in regard to the two actors preference. He asks George, "As old fashion as this may sound, which actor do you think was the 'woman' in the relationship?" Without missing a beat Ted Danson's character says Danny Kaye. His reasoning being because Danny Kaye could do so many accents. He could be a different woman for Lawrence Olivier every night of the week. However before this comment I think they were also referring to the fact that Danny Kaye was the Singer, Dancer Comedian, and Lawrence Olivier was the serious dramatic actor. Later on, in the show when George decides to hookup with a black gay escort he found online. He chickens out in having sex, but he does decides to spoon with the black guy, after the escort compliments his looks. Later on we see, the black escort being the one on the outside spooning George from behind, as George gets a phone call from Jonathan. When asked about how it all was going, he tells John, "That I'm no Danny Kaye, if you know what I mean?" Basically saying I'm no woman. Here is the ironic part, is sorta was the woman in the situation, by his earlier definition. He was the one with his butt in the crotch of the escort as he was spooning him.

This brings me to my next point. Most have a tendency to associate the physical sex as regards to being the "Man" and being the "Woman". Once again there is this placement of putting traditional heterosexual sex on to the homosexual sex. I'm only going to talk about two men in the particular regards, because...well, I'm not a lesbian, and don't know to much about what they do. I mean I can only imagine eat each other out. I don't know what could be considered a "man" role and a "woman" role. I can only guess that maybe the "man" is the only who is fingering or using the strap on, to do the other woman, but you know not sure about all of the intricacies of lesbian sex, so use your imagination on that one. I do know a thing or two about two men getting down, and I think we all can understand how labels of the man and the woman can improperly be placed. It all comes down to...how can I put this delicately...it comes down to, whose pitching and whose the catcher. I don't know how else to put it. Here's my thing, just because a man prefers to...uh catch, whatever is pitched to him, doesn't make him "the Woman." Same goes for the pitcher; just because he likes or prefers to pitching...things, doesn't make him "the man." However people think because a man penetrates a woman's coochie, and one man may penetrate another guy, then he is "the woman," being penetrated by "the man." Now I will say this, that very well may be the situation for some. I mean there maybe be a tad bit smoke to where that fire is. However that is not always the situation. For example online I met this person on one of the sex sites who was a transsexual. They lived their life as a woman, however they hadn't had the final operation to get...Mister Johnson cut off, because well they only liked to pitch things...and let me say from the picture I saw they had a huge...pitching arm. They were not into catching things. However we are not going to go into all of that...I just feel that is another topic for another day.

I'm not sure where this characterization comes from, but I personally feel it stems from men in prison. Now let me go into my next example from this week. It comes from the new show on Fox, called "The Cleveland Show." I know y'all are thinking dang Young, how many shows are you watching. Look it's the Fall going into Winter. It's time to put the late nights to rest, and watch some good television, don't hate. It's a spin-off of "Family Guy." It has the voices of both Sanaa Latham's voice as the Mom, and Nia Long as the voice of the bratty 16 year old daughter, however only for the first 14 episodes, then they replaced her voice with the another actress, they say Nia Long voice was too mature. Anyway, on this week's episode, Cleveland for some reason gets arrested. He is only in jail for a couple hours, before his wife, Sanaa Lathams character picks him up from jail. She is so turned on, by him being an ex con and locked up, even for a couple hours, she has to have him immediately. So she pulls over on the side on the road, and Cleveland makes the comment he wants to do it prison style. He then tells his wife he wants to be on the bottom, he wants to be the "girl" first. The funny part being he is with his wife, how can he be the girl first. Sounds familiar from what I was saying above.


Okay now this where the post is going to officially get long, if not already. However this is where those you are reading stamina is low, This is where you can move on. I think you get sorta where I am going with this post. I'm now going to go into one last example of why...If I had not made it clear, I'm not the girl or the woman. I'm about to go into a real life situation from this week, as some may already know. Those stories can get pretty long, not sure how long this one will be, so you are more than free to end your reading pleasure here, for those of you who want me to go on here it is.

Okay I'm really going to make this short and sweet...or to the best in my abilities. This past week, before watching, "The Cleveland Show" episode. I met this guy near Von's house. I was visiting or meeting him, I just happened to be in Von's area. Anyway I met this guy at a chicken joint. We made eye contact and what not. Nothing serious, we talked for a bit, while we waited...blah blah blah. He left first then I. He was on a bicycle....yes not a bike, but a bicycle. He kept falling over. The way he was falling, you would think he was drunk riding, but I talked to him earlier, he wasn't drunk. The last fall, had me cracking up, because he was riding and fell over side ways into a brick wall. I pulled up beside him, still right near the chicken joint, and asked him, was he okay. He smiled and told me yeah, but then said, "If you want you can give me a ride home. To be honest I wasn't really in any kind of mood to give someone a ride. I just wanted to go home at this point. However I looked at him for a minute, and really judged the situation, and agreed. He puts his bicycle in the cargo area, of my SUV. He gave me the directions to his apartment. When we got there, it was less than a block or so away from the chicken spot. I told him, he could have walked his bike there, from where we was at. I mean it took more time to put the bike in my trunk, than it took for us to get to his place. I asked him, why did he even ask me to give him a lift. He told me it was an excuse to see where my head was at. When I questioned what he was talking about, he then asks me inside. I tell him, I told know him, and not going inside his place, and I just met him. So he does the name thing, where he is from blah blah this, blah blah that, he asks me questions...really concerned about where I was from and who I knew int hat area. He of course got the fake name, and don't know a soul in the area, was just in the hood for chicken. He then informs me know I know him, I can come in. I decide what the hell and go inside with him to see where this is going. When we get inside his small apartment. He offers me a seat and something to drink. I decline the drink and take a seat. Right off back ole boy waste no time, in telling me the rest of his life history. The first of many crazy things he tells me, is how long it has been since he has made love to a girl. A year or so. I'm like what does this have to do with me. He tells me how he was once married, now divorce. She divorced him, because of some trouble he got into. He then informs me, how he was arrested for armed robbery. I asked him, what did he rob, he then informs me he robbed a bank. He then tells me that was the past, and he doesn't want to talk about that. He wants to talk about how he senses something different about me, how he wants to make love to me. This freaks the hell out of me. I mean I kinda got that he got down with men, when he asked me in, but this asking me to make love, freaked the hell out of me. I tell first of all it wouldn't be making love, because there is no love, it would be sex. Then I tell him things are moving to fast for me. I mean I know my history of how fast I move, but he doesn't, and I'm not sure I am feeling him. There is something sexy about him, but still I'm not really feeling him. I ask him how long he was in jail. He then tells me 18 years. This shocked me. He told me around year 8 is when his wife divorced him. I mean can you blame her. Apparently because he never turned in the money or told the police where it was at, they gave him the max time. He then says something that stops me in my tracks. He compliments me on something, but addresses me as "babygirl." At first I though I heard him wrong, then he calls me it again. I tell him, I'm a man, don't call me "babygirl." He tells me that's what he calls the girls he gets with. I'm a little in shocked, because I can't figure out what about me he would think would justify him calling me a girl. We move on. I have a theory about mean who serve time so I ask him about how long it took him, before he had sex in jail. He tells me 9 years. This sorta blows my theory, until he tells me the reason why, because he was in solitaire confinement for most of the first 9 years he was in jail. I asked him why was he in solitaire, so much. He tells me, because of the guys he murdered in jail. Okay this is when I wanted to get up running out. He goes into telling things was different in prison during the late 80s early 90s time, and he did what he had to do...and blah blah blah. He said the beast in him, didn't end until the white man, decided to distract him, with sex. The decided to put a young tender thing as his cell mate, and the rest was history. He became a lover not a fighter. I ask him how old he was, he had a problem with telling me this. Thought I would up and leave if I found out he was 45. This he was worried about all the men he killed he thought was nothing. I really wanted to leave at this point. However I;m not going to lie, I was a bit scared. I felt like I started to see something crazy in his eye. Maybe I was just seeing things after he disclosed all the men he killed, or maybe it was some really craziness. I mean lets be real no matter if a person turned over a new leaf, once they have killed, aren't you always on that edge, like if they killed once, they could do it again. We had "The Talk," and I basically summed up, we were not into the same things. I mean he was strictly in wanting me to get screwed by him, and suck his dick. None of that was happening. I explained to him, that we are not compatible for anything, and I should go. He then tells me that it has been over a year or two since he has held something and cuddle with someone like me, and he needed something soon to settle the beast inside.

You know what this story is getting to long, and I'm tired of writing so...I might come back and finish the story later on this post, maybe not... You tell me if I should....

Long story short crazy prison in his twisted mine. Thought I was the "girl" to his man. I wasn't Kept telling him....he kept not getting it. His thinking continued to the end that there has to be a woman and a man in any situation, and I was the "girl" he wanted. His bitch... I wouldn't and wasn't...the end.

My point is maybe it's human nature to associate, traditional hetero roles onto homo roles...some maybe cool with that, I'm not the end, have a nice day.

I will say this one last thing. While trying to find pics for this post on google...I think I need a new place to find cool pics...any advice?...
Anyway I stumbled on this one pic of a person that looked familiar. Then it hit me, it was a picture of fellow blogger ShawnQT of a Dreams In a Fitted, What was odd was the pictures was of a post from early 2007 of him and his friends and boyfriend at the time Fuzzy. In one picture, how can I say this, without putting myself in a corner. Okay in one picture....uh that one was the..uh ruh pitcher and one was the uh catcher, but if you have read Fuzzy's blog you would think otherwise....nevermind...hmmm, Sorry Fuzzy and ShawnQT. Like I say I think we all go to that place where our minds take us there on this particular subject, of well labeling people.

By the way I also find it interesting I stumbled on this post, about ShawnQT and his friends who are like a family, in this post....and here we are a few years later and Fuzzy is talking about how the friendships are not the same anymore. It's weird how life brigns up these sunjects and coincedences all at the same time.

You Think You Know, But You Have No Idea...

Okay I wanted to address a few things, that was on my mind. I was actually inspired by Mariah Carey's song "Obsessed." I actually stated a post, about this song, when it first came out. The whole Eminem and Mariah battle of the words, kinda inspired some thoughts and feelings, but I didn't finish it, and it got to the point everyone had moved on from the whole situation. Well I might revisited aspects on that original post later on, but there is some things I want to say first.

Now I was going to leave this a lone, but I really want to talk about the blog life. I'm not really sure, where I'm going to go with this, so this is going to sorta be just free writing. Since I don't exactly know how to go into this discussion, I will just start with myself. I went into blogging as a sorta release for myself. I keep a lot of feelings and personal experiences to myself. Some of us have that go to person, that you tell everything too, that knows all that goes on with you and your life. They give you advice, they chastise you, they lift you up when you are down, they are your best friends who you share your life with. Some don't tell anything to anyone. They keep things locked, like a safe. Some just keep it to themselves and some may only write it down for themselves in a personal journal. Well I would say, I'm a combination of these two. There is an aspect of my life I talk to people about, and then I have one aspect of my life, where I don't talk about it at all, and quite frankly I feel like I don't have anyone to talk to about it. So I talk those feelings and experiences, and that is what makes up this blog. It is my sorta release. It is my outlet....anyway I have discussed that before, so moving on. Anyway over time, it sorta developed into, me sharing my story. My experience and what I go through, with others...however...

I want to say this, and I really don't know how to say this in any other diplomatic way, that this. Believe it or not, I try very much to be diplomatic in the way I say things and express myself...well maybe some in blog world, would disagree, but offline, I'm very diplomatic, let me tell you. Well any here goes...JUST BECAUSE YOU READ MY BLOG, DOESN'T MEAN YOU KNOW ME. There you have it, plan and simple. I think that goes for any blogger on any blog. At this moment I feel very Maury Povich guest right now...saying "You don't know me...You don't know me!!"

Let me explain. If anyone remembers MTV, use to have this show called "Diary". The show was about showing the everyday life of some celebrity for a short period of time, as they narrated their experiences and their life. They always started the show with the phrase..."You think you know, but you have no idea." In that you think you know them, but you have no idea who they really are. I think we read some one's blog everyday...of course I'm not talking about me, y'all lucky if you get a couple post a month, but there are bloggers who do post faithfully everyday, sometimes multiple times a day...anyway we read some one's post everyday, we look forward to it, can't wait to see what next they have to say or write. We read some of their life experiences, and we read some of their opinions on pop culture or political news. We read about something funny their kids say, or something crazy that happen in their life at work, and we start to develop feelings. Feelings, that we know this person. Feelings that because we are reading thoughts and feelings, that we know the blogger, because they have let us into, a piece of their life. However reality is unless we personally know them face to face,like some do have those types of relationships, withother bloggers, we don't REALLY know them.

I understand how, we may feel that way, but that's not realistic. I read all the post about O that Southern Gal has to write about her son. And all his funny antics and things he has to say... and I read about Buttahfly's children and her knitting, that she loves, I read about all of Pimpusique's sexual adventures...and Q and his crazy weekends in DC and Corey and his relationship with Parker in ATL...and so on and so. But does that mean we know them?

I don't think so, personally. A couple weeks ago Southern Gal, revealed that she hadn't had sex in a year in a half. This opened the door for several women to reveal they hadn't had sen in this and that length of time. You couldn't have told me, that Southern Gal wasn't having sex. I would have told you..."You are lying!" Another poster, that I think I have been reading their blog for over a year, real quickly mentioned their son, in a post. I was a little amazed how everyone seemed to ignore that little bit of info. Now I have read some of the most intimate, and sexual details of their life, in their blog, and I don't think...I could be wrong...but I don't think they ever mentioned having children. I actually meant to email them, what was up with that and since when did they have a son, but I forgot...well procrastinated to long, to where I forgot. Next there was this other blogger, who mentioned a little detail about their health, that shocked me. I also had been reading their blog for a very long time. Through a few relationship breakups and financial issues, and so on, but never had they every talked about this health issue. As soon as I read the post, I emailed them, to find out if I was reading the post correctly. They didn't come out and say it directly in the post, but it was sorta snicked into the post. They told me the story behind it, and how the health issue developed, and quite frankly it was a very tragic story, to me. It is a very personal situation, and it's their peragative if they tell the whole situation. I personally don't think they have to go public or should about their experince in order for someone to show respect towards them.

Well, what got me, was what came next, and well sorta how this post came to develop. It started from the comment section of this particular blogger's post. I'm going to give you the actual comments, with the comments that was irrelevant omitted.

Anonymous said...
I HOPE U DIE OF H.I.V YOU SELFISH, PATHETIC EXCUSE 4 A HUMAN BEING...NOW SUCK ON THAT BITCH!!!

My friend blogger said...
lmao, so I'm trying to think do I want to stoop to the level that anonymous has stooped to, which is immature. lmao So I'm going to act like an adult and hold my peace! Especially since I know the one that made the comment. Like its not obvious...

Anonymous said...
THIS NIGGA BE TRIPPING ON DICKS LIKE THERE`S NO TOMORROW...WAT A FAGGOT!..I WANNA KNOCK A CUP UP HIS ASS...IT`S TOM BITCH.
COME AND SEE ME
http://realitybong.wordpress.com/

What I yours truly YB&DL said...
See this is why I don't let Anonymous people comment on my blog. People always got something to say, when hiding behind the Anonymous mask.

I have said some things on some blogs and post, somethings, that are not the nicest, but always do it under my Screen name. If you not bold enough to say it under your screen name or REAL blog, then get old school, and don't say anything at all!

Both of those Anonymous comments, sound personal...I'm sorry.

The first comment calling you selfish...hmmm The second comment, is claiming to be a white racist named Tom...the strange part about that is most racist white men, call blacks NiggER, and when a black person calls a fellow black person, they call them NiggA, like Anonymous 2 here has done. In fact that whole statement sounded like a black person..."This nigga be trippin on dick, like there is no tomorrow"...hmmm, yeah that doesn't exactly sound like an old racist white man, does it?

My Friend Blogger, I chatted to you about this yesterday, however after reading these comments, I see where you maybe coming from now!

In my opinion this sounds like some bitter people, who you have been acquainted with, in your life. Perhaps an ex or two, I don't know. I seriously doubt this racist has been reading your blog, waiting for a chance to say something like this on it!


Miss Z said... (that's what I'm choosing to call him)
I SAID IT BITCH...IT`S Z AKA THE MELTDOWN BITCHLEADER AKA SOUTHERN STAR...AND I STILL STAND BY MY COMMENTS...U ARE A SELFISH, PATHETIC EXCUSE 4 A HUMAN BEING...GOING AROUND SPREADING H.I.V...GOING AROUND WITH UR LOSS ASS...THINKING IT`S CUTE BUT BITCH IT AINT..I`VE BEEN READING UR BLOG 4THE PAST WEEKS AND U`RE FULL OF SHIT STR8 UP..&..UNLIKE UR FELLOW BLOGGERS I`M NOT GONNA BE KISSING ON UR ASS..U`RE JUST NASTY AND I HOPE U DIE SOON...
ZXX

What I, yours truly YB&DL said...
I'm going to say this last comment, then I'm over this post.

We never know what people have been through, or what their real experiences are. most of us don't know the real blogger. We get a glimpse,into them, through their blog, but we don't know everything or every experience about them.

So when we ASSUME, such ignorant and stupid things, never more do you truly make an ASS of U and ME!

however we also have to take into consideration, that at the end of the day, it's a child, making these comments. Now some are mature at that age, but a lot especially boys of that age, don't have the sense God gave them yet.

Some people don't have anything to wake up in the morning for, but to hate on someone else.

So let's all just leave it at that.

What I will lastly say is this, if you don't l ike a blogger or like what they have to say, then guess what?...Don't read their blogs, and and you won't have to deal with what they have to say!

If I don't like a blogger, or what they have to say, I don't read or vist their blog.

Miss Z said...
I JUST DONT GET IT, WHERE DID SELF-RESECT GO...KNOWIN THAT U HAVE H.I.V,YOU DECIDE SPREAD IT AROUND JUST FOR THE FUN OF IT...IT`S JUST SELFISH AND EVIL!!!
ZXXX

Miss Z said...
@ YBandDL Bad PYT In the Closet at Hearbreak Hotel....CALL ME WHATEVER AS LONG I KNOW...I`M NOT ON THE DOWNLOW OR SPREADING AIDS LIKE YOU MUTHERFUCKERS!!!
ZXXX

Let me just say this, in this particular post, he was talking about how him and a particular person was getting really hot and heavy, but before things go to hot, he had to tell them his health status. He revealed his health status, and never mentioned having unprotected sex.Well after that Miss Z has then went onto say several more things to me and about me on my blog and other blogs. I have deleted the comments permanently from me blog. A reader of my blog, non commenter, told me to delete all of the comments. They told me don't give someone like that a voice on your blog to speak hatred to you. I deleted and they came back hard the next day saying the same thing over and over like 10 times. Therefore what provoked me to install the comment approval device. I personally, don't like that. I think a lot of comments are fueled by what other comments are, and you the blog host may not approve comments in time. However I now understand why certain blogs have the approval system, to halt such negative slander. I am always up for a debate or a challenge of words, but when you say hateful things, with no motivation of learning from the experience or growing, then I'm out.

Here is my long ass explanation for this entire post... We think that by reading people's blog and getting basically a glimpse into them, and a little bit of who they are, that we have the whole picture. That we have the right to judge them. I'm not saying I haven't judge anyone or what they had to say, because that would be a lie. I have very much done that, to certain people. I have judge the situation, to the extent of me emailing them my views. However that doesn't make it right. One thing I haven't done though is personally attacked them, maybe actions, but never as if I know the whole story of who they are. I think as far as my blog goes and everyone Else's, there is more to the story, than what we read, so take that into consideration.

You never know what someone has been through, or what really makes them up!

Let me also just say this. Yes you read about my sexual experiences and sometimes those personal things, that I feel I can't share with others in my life...but that doesn't mean. You know it all. One of those things is, just because I have sex with men, and I have Down Low in my title doesn't mean I am having raw unprotected sex, with every man and woman. Let's just get that straight.

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Well, anyway back to Mariah Carey's song Obsessed. I actually feel a lot of the lyrics aply to me and "Miss Z."

"You on your job, you hatin’ hard
Ain’t gon feed you, I'ma’ let you starve...

When everybody knows it’s clear that you’re upset with me...

You a mom and pop, I’m a corporation
I’m the press conference, you a conversation...

Why you wasting your time?...

Got you all fired up with your Napoleon complex
See right through you like you’re bathin’ in windex..."

That's all I'm going to say on that