The Last Aussie

My last night out on the town. I'm going to go to The Beat one last time, dance with my friends, and not give a rat's ass about trying to pick up or impress anyone. That's my plan.

What are the odds that's gonna work?

Now, let me rewind a bit. When I returned to Brisbane, I sent out a mass Facebook invite (mass being 21) to all my homo friends in Brisbane, requesting their company at The Beat that Friday night. That Thursday night, I was still the only event guest. It wasnt like it was a personal insult; 3 said maybe, 3 said no and provided good reasons, and the remaining 15 were simply internet MIA. Looks like I was on my own.

Luckily, salvation came in the way of my most reliable friend here. He lives literally a 5 minute walk from the clubs, so his apartment always provides base camp for pregaming and couch crashing. Yes, Old Faithful would step up to bat, coming out with me and even providing booze.

A second, more unexpected face showed up. Remember Boy Five, the newly-18 engineering student I lost to my French Friend? Well, those two never worked out, and I gave up on Five myself after hearing of his apparent psychosocial instabilities. In fact, I dont try to hook up with any Cardenites anymore. However, this was going to be his first time at The Beat, so maybe it couldnt hurt to try.

Pregaming was limited. With only 3 people, we were short on things to do, and I really had no desire to watch old Kylie Minogue music videos. I dont care if she's a gay icon. But, looking for something better on Old Faithful's computer, I stumbled upon the other pillar of gay media: hardcore pornography. Just for shits and giggles, I put it on while they were distracted and waited to see how long it took them to notice. Instead, I accidentally stumbled upon genius.

Ever heard of "Dark Side of the Rainbow", where you sync up The Wizard of Oz with Pink Floyd's album "Dark Side of the Moon"? You'd be shocked how well a Brent Corrigan porn syncs up to "Cant Get You Outta My Head". And when you put a blowjob scene in fast motion, its absolutely hilarious. We found our entertainment.

As a side note, I'd highly recommend "The DaVinci Load" and its sequel. We couldnt give two shits about the sex scenes, and in fact we skipped them right over. Instead, we were captivated by the crustose acting, the feeble dialog, and the 'wink wink' fourth wall-breaking attitude of the script. Plus, penis-mounted lasers. It was glorious.

Anyway, we arrive at The Beat, and I immediately bump into none other than Chris and a sour-looking Bartender Ash. Seems Chris is back to paying for his drinks now, those two had no happily ever after all. But, it also seems Chris is not alone. With him is a fat boring bisexual fag hag, and a lanky but mousy looking guy with bad teeth. It doesnt take me long to ditch the friends I came with and join up with this new entourage. Arent I a swell pal?

I flirted with Chris like usual, even danced a bit, but its the same song and dance, and I'm constantly aware nothing was coming of it. However, the lanky/mousy boy seemed to be snuggling up to me more, despite his hag's irritation. Before long, Chris has to beat an early retreat, and I'm left with the two leftovers, my two friends, and a decision.

Maybe I was just drunk. Maybe I was feeling generous. But most likely, I was probably just embracing my last-minute sluttiness. I stoked the lanky/mousy boy's interest, eventually making out with him when his hag leaves for a piss. Sold. I gave up on my plan, so I suppose I brought it all on myself. His hag called it a night, and we make tracks for my place.

My place happens to be the smallest available room in St John's College. I can barely fit on the bed myself, and now his feet are sticking off. We start to get down to business, when the dumb motherfucker decides he'd rather cuddle! For the love of God!

Normally, I take no pleasure in giving blowjobs, but this was a special case. Something needed to get him active, to wake him up and get him horny. Oh, it definitely worked, I'm afraid. I accidentally unleashed the dragon.

If you think being a cuddler is annoying in bed, try sleeping with a prankster. I'm sorry, but being dickslapped is not funny. Neither is being loudly ass-slapped, especially with the sole motivation of waking up your neighbor. Nor is being shaken so your alcoholic stomach contents slosh around. Nor is having the skin of an uncircumcised penis yanked unreasonably hard. Nor is having designs drawn on your back with sharp fingernails. Nor is having a nose jabbed in your eyeball, or an attempted nosepick with a tongue. The fuck is wrong with this boy?

It really did seem that he just wanted to fuck around, and not in that good way. Beside my attempted bj, we never got past lots of making out and yanking despite being naked and apparently willing. On the upside, I had no problems being up, unlike yesterday where I needed the services of a private fluffer just to keep performing. At some point, he settled in for a nap, promising shower sex after he woke up. Then, just to be a dick, he decided to hold my limbs hostage in a cuddle. Seriously, I'm learning to hate all intimacy here.

I escaped, made a sandwich, and settled in for a nap on the floor (of my own room) instead.

My clock went off at 9am, as I had to be back in the Valley (where I came from that night) by 11. But I couldnt get the lazy shit up, or moving, or fulfilling his promise. Instead, we spooned. He reached back and played with me as I started to fall back asleep. It was only when he started to rock himself back and forth that I became suspicious.

Where was my penis? I was still dazed from booze and drowsiness. It wasnt up against his back; I couldnt find the head. Was he playing it between his legs? Running it up and down his crack? Or, as I feared, was he coming through after all. I laid on my side, mind racing, before I made my decision. I dont know exactly what he's doing, but the risk that he's barebacking me, without my permission no less, was just too high. I pulled back.

"Dont you think we should get a condom or something before things get too far?", I asked. He heaved a sigh, rolled over on his stomach, and said "Way to kill the mood." There was still more making out and grinding to be done, but not again that morning did we approach actual sex. Finally, it breaks 10, and its time to kick him out.

He needs to collect his 3 rings, 2 bracelets, necklace, and leather watch. He needs to borrow my comb to slick back his hair. He needs to stop for his 10th or 12th cigarette of the evening, despite the fact that he's wheezing like an old emphysemic. He needs to fix his eyeliner... Eyeliner?! He even needs to borrow bus fare. Mind you, I'll never see him again to get it back.

Turns out he doesnt know where to find the connecting bus. Or that buses only stop at bus stops on the side of the street they're already travelling. Or that the first Prime Minister was Edwin Barton. Or that the square root of 4 is 2. Sounds like the boy wasnt playing with a full deck, ya know. He tells me that he's sorry he didnt meet me sooner, as I'd make a fun fuckbuddy. And, in his own words, "Not to mention that you're actually kinda cute after all". Nervy, considering the buck-toothed wonder barely passed my minimum bar, even while boozed up. I ditch him the first chance I get when I find a friend riding our same bus.

So, what's the moral of the story? Well, lets look at my exploits I've blogged about, barring fellow exchange students or simple kissing with no follow-up. We've got the chronic cheater, the boy who cant make up his mind, the boy who fell hard in love with someone else in the 36 hours between calls, the desperate drug skank who offered to pay for my taxi, the Sydney boy whose entire life is a performance, the Cuddle King, and this penis-pranking idiot. While some have been fun, some talented, and some downright cute, they've all suffered from some major personality defect.

Maybe its me. Maybe I attract the weirdos and misfits. Or maybe Australian guys are just generally fucked in the head. Or could it be symptomatic of gay men in general to be somehow broken? I really dont know, I'll need to investigate more back home. 5 months till I'm 21. In the meanwhile, I'm seriously over Aussie boys.