Tag: meat market

Last Voicemail Message from SpaceDog Transcribed by Les Sober

Welcome

It was an autumn night. The year 1994. I was 16. I remember this night for it was my first introduction to the ‘gay community’. It was my first night at a gay bar. The people I was with told I was at the ‘Little Roxy’ (in New Brunswick, NJ maybe?).

As I walked in, I took in the room. The first thing I noticed were the stares. The first thing I felt was the hand of an intoxicated man grabbing my ass. It was immediate uncomfortablity. I was offered a drink but I just wanted to get out. I did eventually.

We proceeded to go to Roxy in New York. I was in awe. At first I loved it, then it struck me as odd, then it struck me as love again. I noticed everybody being really gropey to one another. Then the people I was with (a much older sampling of men probably mostly over 40) all started kissing together in a circle. I, being in the city on their pursestrings, joined. It was all odd in the long run, then I was taken home, snuck in my window, and went on with my regular life.

Looking back at this specifically it just strikes me as odd how this group of friends would all get tongue twisted like that. I shouldn’t judge really, I’ve hooked up with a friend or two in my days but it was basically my first impression.

On my eighteenth birthday, I was ostracized by my closest gay friend for not wanting to go out to a club. I wanted to be around my straight friends and for this I was condemned and condoned.

‘Why would you want to be around straight people?’ You can’t get any cock with them!’, he viciously barked at me.

My simple reply was,’Life is not just about sex. It is about being around people that I enjoy the company of whether they are straight or gay.’ Sadly this wasn’t the only time I heard this from a fellow gay.

Prelude to a F*** OFF

Before I begin this section I just want to state that I have had fun at gay bars and clubs in the past. I have also had fun while being stranded in snow storms along the side of the road and have had fun while being searched by the police. I even have had fun with someone after suicide attempt. Does this make me sick and twisted? More then likely yes. I adapt to the cards I am dealt on a given occasion and try to make the best of things. We aren’t always dealt a great hand and even when we are there are infinite ways we can screw it up (and vice versa).

F*** OFF!!!!!!!!!!

I am completely tired of how gay people act as a whole. Sure as a ‘community’ we can band together and protest things like prop 8 which I am proud of, yet the remander of the time we tear one another apart.

I choose not to part of a ‘community’ wear all that is praised is vanity, clothing labels, and how many cocks we can suck. I choose not to be a part of something where self centeredness reigns queen supreme. Where narcassism is considered a positive attribute and altruism is a red flag for let’s take advantage of him. Where people not conforming to the majority are made to feel like a right wing nut job at an Obama rally.

And nearly fifteen years after my first experience with the ‘community’ I have realized nothing has changed. It is all just still a big meat market, devoid of morals, devoid of much more then what can you do for me now. I don’t really expect more and never have or will. It is what it is.

On a personal note, I have noticed that things such as honesty, whether about yourself or someone else is chopped down to an unacceptable level.

Nine times out of ten when I tell someone that I have epilepsy they suddenly look at me differently like I have eight legs or they want me to have a seizure like, ‘HERE SPARKY BARK SPARKY’ F*** SPARKY!!!

I tell them I think Britney Spears, Ashley Simpson, Miley Cyrus and their legion of doom can all go suck my cock and that I like a lot more rock music and that the music playing in this club makes me to shoot myself in the head, they are either personally affronted or think I literally want to shoot myself in the head. Like I’m gonna go out like Kurt Cobain or Layne Staley and off myself just because I listen to their music.

 

When someone asks my opinion, I do not sugar coat it. I tell it like it is. I do not hang in close surroundings with people I detest. People are so offended by bluntness and honesty because the truth hurts.

Would you rather be lied to all your life by people you think are your friends or would you rather be told the truth by your enemies? Lest we forget the old saying:, ‘Keep your friends close but your enemies even closer.’

A lot of people who portray themselves as genuine will stab you in the back in front of their friends. Some people will simply reveal their true colors over time.

Which is why I simply say F*** OFF to the ‘gay community’ and for those of you fed up as well, welcome to my gay revolution.

Fat Shaming is Motivation You Fucking Cowards by Spacedog

It was 4 in the morning at the end of December, but the one thing I was not doing was writing a letter. I was a bit mortified of what stared back at me in the mirror. Mainly because it was a lot larger then I was used to. With a great deal of sloth and investments in GrubHub, I had packed on roughly 40 pounds in the past year. I wasn’t quite sure what I said about a year before that resulted in the great big “Fuck It” but it happened.

So as people began their New Years resolutions trying to better themselves, improving the world and living with more virtue the only thing that struck me was this. Let’s go all in. I wanted to see what would be like to be super fat. Well on the edge of morbidly obese that is. I decided to get started right away.

For the next month I wanted to see what it would take to do so. More then likely I probably ate roughly 6 months worth of food and consumed 2 years worth of alcohol compared to what I was accustomed to at my normal weight of 160. The goal was to pack on enough weight to hit 250. I ended up at 248 for a staggering gain of 28 pounds in one month. I tried hard at those last 2 pounds but honestly I felt horrid and miserable the entire time and needed it to end as soon as possible.

I cannot fathom how one would willfully ever decide to get this large on their own without going into a complete freak out panic mode. I literally was going into one the second week in. Sure if I had stayed drunk the entire 30 days, I probably could have gained more weight but I wanted to at least have some idea how these extreme excess weight made me feel and not be in some perpetual blackout.

The somewhat average weight and height of 5’10 and 200 pounds being a male in their late 30s gives one a certain anonymity. As I got slowly heavier and heavier it gave quite the opposite effect.  I got disdainful stares. I no longer could slink my way into doors at the convenience stores with people next to me. I no longer received the same niceties when frequenting retail establishments. I got stuck wedged between a toilet and a door on a bathroom floor. It goes on and on.

I signed up for a fatty cattle call hook-up meat market app called Bigger City. I really ginned up my profile, well instead of interests or anything interesting I just listed food. Instead of a headless torso, I just put up a picture of my giant ever-growing gut. Immediately I got 5 responses. I was a bit taken aback but willing to listen to what these “chasers” had to say. For those of you unfamiliar with gay slang, a chaser is someone that specifically desires a fatty. I will not bore you with the first 4 responses but the response number 5 was a humdinger.

Apparently, this is a thing. I shouldn’t be surprised that anything is a thing these days with the billions of people living in our world. I’m sure someone out there shits in their meatloaf and feeds it to their unsuspecting family or there is someone that only eats bagels they allow to soak in beer overnight. This man wanted me to come over and basically feed me copious amounts of food. I really thought about doing it for the sake of the blog but discomfort and a preference to feed actual whales rather then this whale being fed turned it a big hard NO.

Another harrowing encounter was at a nightclub. This was one I totally brought on myself early on evening before the drunken blackout occurred. I went with a sober friend to a local nightclub called The Raven. My goal. Attempt to find the hottest guy in there, preferable younger, to just make overt sexual advances at in the hopes of rejection. While being more of a local stop and less of a destination for perfect tens, I found someone that reasonably looked like a 9, though my sober friend said 7 or 8. Good enough I thought. I casually passed by and for the first time in my life I sorta made a half hearted “woof” sound at him. Personally, I think that gay mating call is not only retarded but like retard with an IQ of 70 so not like functioning retard.

It all happened quite quickly and fast after that. Much I do not remember. The drinks are quite strong at the Raven, enough so there is a 3 Long Island Ice Tea max and you are cut off. I’m pretty sure I must have been somewhere deep in my third. Anyway I’m not really sure what was said but eventually I go out for a cigarette with this guy after buying him a drink. He went into some winded diatribe about how I personally was what was wrong with the gay community and why would I ever think someone like him would ever consider a beached whale such as me. Now normally, this would leave me dejected but it was exactly what I was looking for. Mission accomplished. Thanks for the motivation green eyes.

So now that I am morbidly obese (I just barely made it at 35.4 BMI and probably higher body fat at least in the middle) it is time to cut out the bullshit. It really will not be that hard. While a bit disconcerting that I cannot really handle doing more then 5 minutes of my Insanity and Tapout DVDs nor 98 percent of the crossfit activities I am foaming at the mouth to do I kind of accept it. Losing weight is honestly the easiest thing in the world. I am completely fucking tired of people who moan and groan and bullshit about this all the time.

The worst are the ones who say, “I hardly eat.” Hi, if you are 300 pounds and staying that way and not bound to a wheelchair or on some shitty medicine then guess what you eat too much you gluttonous fuck. Get up, move. Shut your pie hole.

Even worse are the women who gab and gab and gab on the treadmill while walking at not even 3.0 mph, try 2 mph. If you are 500 pounds you or can barely walk you get a pass but seriously no pain no gain. If you do not bleed, do not sweat, do not get the chubrub thighs, or get a little bit angry move along. I hear the diner down the road has great cream pies.

I’ve done this before. Lost 60 pounds, gained 80, lost 100 gained 120. I am officially done with the seesaw. I wanted this time to be more dramatic though. I have personally visited three of my exes in the past week so they can experience the full glory of the horror. I want to smear myself in their faces when I am through. Well not really. It just is some great motivation. What good is it to do something completely dramatic if no one is there to bear witness. It is no fun indeed.

Anyway this is easy people. This isn’t finding your Romeo and Juliet soulmate. This isn’t searching for the ultimate orgasm. This isn’t auto fellatio on your tiny little dick. This isn’t going from a homeless mute to an Academy Award winning actor in less then a year. It is too fucking simple.

One last thing I’m actually no longer 248 pounds. Down to 233 now in a little under 3 weeks. I’ve entered a few cash weight loss competitions and sadly I may have to eat more then the 2000 calorie a day diet I am currently on as to not lose too much weight and get disqualified from one of them. It is a bit ironic that I may have to literally stuff my face again because I am doing too good of a job. I haven’t a drop of liquor in 3 weeks and fear I may have to drink quite a lot of rum to even have the desire to consume so much food. Life is not always fair, even for those who choose to thrive.

By SpaceDog