astepawayfromgay

[astepawayfromgay]

"Please take me to America"

Put them in speedos!

[astepawayfromgay]

Couture colostomy bag.

Rick Owens S/S 2018 Menswear Paris Fashion Week

[astepawayfromgay]

Poetry Hour

Complex Like dark water in a forest pond Frozen hard yet All white Swimming but standing still My heart Your skin Sweating but frozen still Hands touch Lips meet Swimming but standing still Quiet tree With big arms holding Water that doesn't freeze Love hides in him Swimming swimming in his veins

[astepawayfromgay]

Another meth induced design at Milan Fashion Week.

GCDS S/S 2018 Menswear Milan Fashion Week

[astepawayfromgay]

Bow legged bitch.

Malibu 1992 S/S 2018 Menswear Milan Fashion Week

[astepawayfromgay]

Millimeters Deep: Part I

As involved as my theory of a Step Away from Gay actually is, it’s on the surface quite simple. I’ve always wondered what had propelled closeted (aka self loathing) men into either having case of helium heels or being a ‘total top’ for a month until they come down with a severe case of helium heels. On this very night I heard it for the first time.

The case of the mysterious transition from Lusting for vagina and boobs to lusting for penis and hairy tits, involves straight male taste in no particular order except this one: fat girl, Asian girl, a wife Named Bob (aka man). Why does this phenomenon exist? It’s hard to say. I am not even sure that sodium thiopental injections could suck the truth out of these guys because they don’t even know it themselves.

Personally I think fat girls and Asian girls in combination are test tube men. For these homos in waiting, the concoction, much like a thick BBC, needs to be consumed inch by inch. No matter how greedy the consumer, mixing the two quickly and then drinking the poison can lead to a mess and some ruined Frette sheets. However, taken one at a time, the homo-to-be is able to work that big butt plug into his mental and cosmic black hole without popping his cherry in one thrust.

To partially quote John Waters from his inspirational piece in Butt Magazine, these guys truly are masters at “topping from the bottom.” They have become adept at controlling their own minds so that they don’t have to live in their real reality of being as queer as three dollar bill. Instead they know how to dominate, be submissive and in general fool themselves into believing they are functional, much like a dude who can’t cum when you’re fucking him and uses the excuse, “I cum in my mind.” Sure ya do…

I see these men as being dragged through the sexual spectrum: the self inflicted Maoist Long March to sexual perdition. Most of these guys will eventually find their way to dapper suits and admiration of leg hair after moving to Asia to work for an investment bank, getting drunk at bar in Hong Kong and waking up next to the blond Swedish boy of their dreams who made them cum for the first Time without ever having to touch their own cock. After such experiences they rarely go back to watching almost snuff films, speaking Chinglish to a woman who really was only a human hole to them or eating barbecue with a “classic feeder” heifer. They instead wonder, “baby why does it hurt so good” as their new wife, Javier, takes them from behind.

Others need a push out of the closet. Forget them for the moment. Let’s focus on the moment at which the mental transition happens. What are the triggers? Like most things in life it’s a combo scene. But one of the most telling is physical in nature.

In my next chapter of Milimeters Deep, we explore the similarities of gaynal sex and a white guy topping an Asian girls very very tight mouse trap coupled with why on earth he would date a woman where he must speak in broken English in order to ask her to buy eggs at a grocery next door to their very own home in central London.

[astepawayfromgay]

Kitty Curse

[astepawayfromgay]

I’m a pleaser too. But if a negative human arrives unexpectedly into my reality, then I piss the fire out, put my cock back in pants and wander into the woods where hopefully a nice blowjob awaits and not a hairy hungry wolf.

Kinley Winston

[astepawayfromgay]

I look at this and see a tad bloated, meth legs, an ok package ... maybe he's a grower with a muff too well groomed, skin that looks like a night in the back seat of a Mercedes E class with Hugh Grant near a tranny bar and a shirt that could be an elementary school art teacher's smock.

Eleyte Clothing S/S 2016 Menswear Gran Canaria Fashion Week

[astepawayfromgay]

Helium heels.

Ricolee F/W 2017 Menswear Shanghai Fashion Week

[astepawayfromgay]

Powerbottom Sunday

[astepawayfromgay]

"Whitewash the walls of my love tunnel."

An actual request made today at 13:46 to me by unnamed meth mouthed Australian On Grindr.

[astepawayfromgay]

“I’m Discreet”

I’ve had it up to here with losers who tell me they are discreet.  When I think of a discreet homo I think of a guy in velvet slippers, velvet pants, a cravat, and a colorful Turnbull & Asser shirt walking down fifth avenue on his way to bang some other discreet homo while their wives are at fat camp in Massachusetts. Dare they actually spend the night together or check into the St. Regis - why that would be just waaaaaaayyyyyyy tooooooo gaaaayyyyyy.  I often want to ask them what is going through their little coiffed heads when their playmate’s penis is firmly lodged in their backside.  Or what’s going through their mind when they are sitting shifted onto one butt cheek as they dine in La Goulue after the experience because its “sore.”  On the contrary, I do indeed already know what’s going through that tiny little noggin as their obese wife sleeps in bed next to them while they masturbate themselves to sleep as she snores and farts all over their cinched PJs. But I digress - back to square one.  No pictures = crazy.

                                   “Yeah braaa, i fuck women, I swear.”

You can’t even get a picture out of these nut jobs; and if you do, then its usually a photo of their butthole; its a closeup so close that you could be looking at Mount Rushmore if Sara Palin had her way with it.  Now…I have a few issues with this little phenomenon. My first issue is that what does it really hurt to take a photo of your erect penis, your headless torso, your calf muscle, the back of your head, or your balls and send it to a stranger?  How would the receiver ever be able to identify you?  They wouldn’t. For crying out loud, these bastards could just as easily farm photos from the internet and send them.  If you did meet, its not like you’d be comparing his cock to the photo he sent as it's actually sliding in and out of your mouth…and with all the porn out there, I’m sure it would be time well spent and fun in the sun to scroll through millions of cockpix till you found a match.  Kind of like working in the FBI fingerprint room but all cock!  What fun!

Bottoms Galore

That’s a pretty good argument for why these “discreet” fellow cocksucking brethren are indeed psychopaths.  I would venture to say that somewhere deep inside them lurks something you don’t wanna know.  And I’m not referring to the inside that you probably are fantasizing about whitewashing if you actually got them to come over to your cold-water flat where you’re charging your hacked iPhone with a car battery just so you can use Grindr.

I hate to admit it but I’ve indeed tested these waters.  No they haven’t landed me rocking back in forth under a cold shower whimpering at 3AM, but they have made me really wonder what the fuck happened to these definitely all very teeny tiny cocked boys.  Priests?  Bottoming for a priest?  Bottoming for the Pope!  That’s it!.

I also don’t want you to get the wrong idea about the Discreet Genre.  I have had some amazing experience, even heart throb ones with men who don’t really want to share photos.  As an open minded, ultra liberal, central European with a nice sized tool, I have no problem sending a photo or seven over a non-secured network.  Let’s face it; it will probably be sliding in and out of you within the next hour if you so like them as to reply.  Men who don’t want to share might just be private or maybe they just hate you and have nothing better to do than type with one hand and wank with the other.  Do not confuse this shy subset with DISCREET Grindring homos.  They could just end up on your good side.  

Shy and discreet have two very different meanings.

[astepawayfromgay]

The tip of the iceberg

I’ve probably been too bitter for too many years to write the book that literally everyone from Juliet Binoche to the poor soul seated next to me on a flight from Miami to St. Kitts has begged me to pen.  Let’s not call this a blog.