Friday evening in my local....

....and there's a cutie sitting about six feet in front of me, who I'd love to take home and cuddle (and he's perfectly built for cuddles, not fat, but not skinny either, just - well, cuddly!) to within an inch of his life. I doubt either the boy or his parents would be all that keen on the idea, though!

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

When is a trough....

....not a trough? In the case of my current state of mind, when I got to a point when I was too bloody tired to think about it. Nothing has changed, nothing, assuredly, has been resolved, but after two early shifts, I'm so shattered that my brain only seems to be functioning on an autonomic level. And I've got seven more 'stupid o'clocks' to go. As I said to K last night, I think I'm getting too old for this kind of endurance test, but I can't afford to give it up. Work until you drop, then disappear into the remorseless dustbin of history, unlamented, unremembered. Ain't life grand?

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

The day of not doing things

There were two things that I had in mind to do today, and, in the event, I did neither of them. The thing my day was built around almost happened - I decided I was going to look for 'the boy on the bus', and got within a mile, give or take, of where he presumably was at the time (mid afternoon, cutie time), but then realised that, firstly, I would be gutted if I didn't see him, but, even more, that it made no difference if I did see him, because there's no possibility of his ever being my friend, still less anything more. So I diverted to my local instead, a simple manoeuvre, given that the buses to each potential destination left from the same stop.
The second thing had been sloshing around in my head all day, after passing a certain organisation's local office on my first bus of the day. I'm deep in a hole at the moment, and I could really do with talking in a non-judgmental situation, but, in the end, I chickened out, as I have more than once in the past. Maybe their online option might work better. I'll investigate - or maybe I won't. Boys don't cry, after all.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Feel the love

Another loving, caring Christian. If this goon can't be locked up in a padded cell, any chance of his being prosecuted for inciting violence? (Yeah, I know, First Amendment, blah, blah, but there are limits, even to that get-out clause.)

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Another turn of the hysteria ratchet

In this morning's news, a new proposal which could lead to teachers and social workers being sent to prison for five years if they 'ignore' sexual abuse of children. Leaving aside the fact that I can't believe that anyone in that kind of profession would deliberately ignore any such allegation, how could it ever be proven? Will registration for your average infant school class go something like this - 'Good morning, children. Please raise your hands if you were sexually abused last night'? OK, that's probably reductio ad absurdum, but, more seriously, if a teacher, or anyone else, has a threat of a jail sentence over their head, they're going to report anything and everything, 'just in case', which could well lead to more families - including children, of course - being dragged into the quagmire of the 'sex abuse industry', with its automatic assumption that any adult, especially men, are 'guilty until proven innocent, and probably still guilty anyway'. There is, of course, an election coming up very soon, so the politicos will jump on any bandwagon they think will win them a few more votes, irrespective of the potential for innocent people to have their lives destroyed. Maybe the answer is for children to be taken from their parents at birth, and raised in complete isolation from the world, having no contact with anyone at all. A recipe for intractable psychosis, of course, but at least they'd be 'safe'.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Linebashing, and its consequences

'Linebashing', for the uninitiated, is the practice of travelling on a railway line for no other reason than that you've never travelled on it before. And that's what I indulged in earlier today, travelling on a branch line at the very southern fringe of the Oystercard zone I'd never used before. There was a nice view back towards London as the train approached the terminus, the sun was shining, and all appeared to be set fair. But then it all rather fell to bits. My original plan was to walk to the station at the end of another branch, which I had visited before, albeit a very long time ago, but it soon became clear that it was further than I'd anticipated, and would involve walking uphill along a busy main road with no footpath, so the fact that a bus stop, with a bus ostensibly due, presented itself seemed like a much preferable 'Plan B'. Except that the bus didn't turn up. And it was only an hourly service. After standing in the cold for almost half an hour, I ended up catching the next bus in the other direction, discovering en route that the missing bus had broken down, finding myself in the local town centre, even further out. I did 'tick off' another Wetherspoons, but, even by the time I left there, I was starting to feel decidedly sniffly, and now, eight hours or so later, I've got a horrible feeling that another chesty thing might be on its way. I'll have to see how I feel in the morning, but it looks like I might end up paying a high price for traversing about four new miles of our rail network!

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B 

Floundering

I know this is going to sound like a cracked record, but I'm really struggling with the 'boy issue' at the moment, more than I can remember for years. Each time I see an attractive boy, and they seem to be everywhere at the moment, I'm feel like I'm being shot by both sides, on the one hand by the frustration of not being able to have what I want the most, and on the other, especially when it comes to the younger guys, by the guilt of wanting at all. It really is a maze with no way out, because I can't possibly justify hurting someone else to make myself feel better, while what I could legitimately have I simply don't want - no amount of attempted 'redirection' is ever going to make me anything other than a boylover, because if it was possible, I'd have done it in a heartbeat, years, decades ago. All I can do is apologise for going over the same dead ground yet again, but it really is a big issue, maybe the biggest of all, in what passes for my 'life'.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B