Saturday, October 31, 2009

My Boyfriend's Back and You're Gonna Be Sorry

R Man is back from the East Coast, safe and sound, Yay.

On Nov. 9 we’ll have been together 28 years. One night you're standing around a dingy bar's backroom with your dick hanging out and the next thing you know it's decades later, you're living the schmaltzy scenes from Fiddler on the Roof and having conversations like this:

R MAN: Did you give the cat the belt from my green silk robe to play with?

ME: Maybe a little.

You don’t get that kind of relationship without practice. Trust me.


  1. Ah haha! 28 years? I can't imagine, that's amazing. In Gay Man years isn't that like a century?!

  2. It's so beautiful and so long!

    (isn't it wonderful how the same salutation works for both the first meeting and the anniversary?)

  3. Shouldn't there be some sort of award ceremony for this, complete with marching band and go go boys?

  4. Congrats. Time flies when you're with the man you love. Husband and I have know each other for 28 years and have been together as a unit for 14. We haven't mastered the wordless communication thing although it works a lot of the time. But we still play Rehetorcal Questions:

    Him: Did you buy that Studebaker in front of the house?

    Me: Who's house?

  5. Welcome home, R! And I knew I shouldn't have taken Saki's silk scarf home. . . . And--wait a minute--what green silk robe????


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