Fly Ghoti Fly

Dearest Mr. Audubon,

I received the oddest hit to the biddy biddy blog that in some strange way was connected with you. Not that this is a big surprise, I say this due to the fact if there’s anyone in the history of the good of U, S of A I might feel is a kindred spirit it would be you. Your dedication and contribution to the field of ornithology is nothing short of awe-inspiring. And the body of work in your illustrations of birds of American are much the same.

Now as to how you have ended up a part of the cosmic soup that have been hits to the b-b-blog over the past couple of days.

Yesterday I received a hit from Zurich, the result of the keyword search “wounded bird syndrome”. Which returned the following letter I wrote to B. in January of 2010 with regard to my tendency to get involved with guys who would stereotypically be considered broken or damaged in some way. They are the kind of guys who have zero self-esteem and often view themselves as being victimized by life and blame anyone and everything for how their lives have turned out rather than accepting responsibility for their choices and actions. In other words, they’re typically the kind of guy who’s a pill to deal with and who could easily be called high maintenance. For whatever reason, it seems to be my karma to be attracted to such guys and I’m truly flypaper for them. So it would seem I’m an ornithologist of a different kind.

But I digress.

Then this morning, I received a hit to the b-b-blog a result of the keyword search “joker’s card.” When I did the search on the IP for the origin of the hit it came from an area of Camden, NJ called what? Audubon. Coincidence? I think not!

In a strange ironic twist, I believe I may have had a close encounter with such a gentleman the other day, a perfect specimen of the WBS. You see, on Wednesday I was in a bit of a horny way, so I posted on Craigslist to see if I might line up a little booty-licious fun for after work. And indeed, I did strike gold with a sweet and adorable Venezuelan gentleman who dropped over after he got off work for a little fun in the sack.

However, it was another gentleman with whom I struck up an on-line conversation I believe may have been a close encounter with the not so rare species which seems to flock my way. Shortly after I received the initial message from my Venezuelan hook up, I got a message from a gentleman who I will call A. and who described himself as, 6’1″, an athletic 230 lbs, and with strong legs and ass (from running). Of course, this being just the kind of guy I like, I was immediately intrigued.

I sent him a message back to let him know that while I was very interested in what he had to offer, I had someone on the hook for the evening. He responded to let me know if my prospective ended up a no-show to let him know and he’d surely be on his way over. Shortly thereafter, I received confirmation that my gentleman caller was on his way and I pinged A. to let him know that my prospective was a go and didn’t want to leave him hanging.

He then did what I’ve found so many others guys do, which is exhibit a rather odd manifestation of decision theory—difference regret—in the following email exchange.

A: Ok. How often do you do this?

EG: Qualify this. Hook up on CL or pleasure another guy’s bottom?

A: Pleasure another guy’s bottom. For me it’s about fulfillment .

EG: I enjoy (and do) pleasure another guy’s bottom whenever the opportunity presents itself, through whatever circumstance. Whether it’s a regular FB (or a random hook up via the internets). Like with anything in life it ebbs and flows. There are some weeks I provide pleasure to another (and with a little luck am pleasured in return once or twice). And often times there are many weeks in between I pleasure myself.

In what respect and circumstance are you seeking to be fulfilled? Fulfillment comes in many forms and in many ways. For me, it’s most important to be mindful of enjoying each and every moment and to not allow myself to wander into subjectivity too much in regard to the experience(s).

Most days my inner Buddha cringes. Thankfully he’s very forgiving.

A: I hear you. Fulfillment to me is a mind and body experience that begins with a need . That need requires an acceptance of who you are and what it takes to make you happy. Wow I wish I was there.

EG: LOL. I hear you sweet thing. ‘Tis a daily struggle.

Hope we’re able to talk more about it up close and personal, in real time, some time soon (if you’re up for it).  Before of after the needs are met <g>.  Jus’ le’me know.

‘Til then, travel well…

At the conclusion of this exchange, I thought WTF? How did this guy go from pinging me on CL for a little NSA sexual fun to needing to find acceptance and happiness? And but of course it pushed my buttons in a major way.

The next morning I did a reverse look up on the phone number he provided me to find out where he might live. I attempted to send him encouraging TXT messages to the phone number he provided, but in a moment of cosmic irony (or care by the Universe) I sent them to the wrong number and had a brief telephonic encounter with a with a hetero Jesus freak who no doubt wondered WTF was in the water supply (or my breakfast cereal) on Thursday morning. I sent A. an email later that evening to share what happened, and I’ve yet to hear back from him and this is no surprise.

However, the whole experience has left me feeling rather at odds at the moment. And it’s A.’s postulation about fulfillment that really has me betwixt and between as if I’m rigorously honest with myself, I’m really feeling pretty unfulfilled these days. It’s a combination of a lot of things.

As I was talking with M. last night she shared the thought that when one is working spiritually and spending a great deal of time with such pursuits the mundane loses a great of it’s meaning and it can be difficult to make that transition. After she shared this, I told her that’s exactly what I’m feeling right now. I’ve become so frustrated and exhausted with having to deal with the tedium and minutiae related to the existence known as human and interacting with my fellows.

I have little understanding why more guys can’t relax, open up, and enjoy the ride. It really can be a great deal of fun if one allows it.

Sad really.

Okay, I think the spooks are tapping the line again. As I’ve been sitting here typing this letter to you, I received a hit to the b-b-blog from the keyword search “youtube ghoti someday” in Safari Mobile. From where did it originate? Mézidon, France. In an area, by looking at it in google maps, that is way out in the middle of bum f*ck. And a part of the road is named what? Rue Emile Zola. Of course, you know the wonderful cosmique quantum connection here is that Mr. Zola was a writer who was instrumental in the forming of the naturalist style and was born roughly 11 years before your death.

Methinks the universe is toying with me once again.

Can you do me a favor and ask Mr. Houdini to get in touch?