I quit smoking back in September- the 28th of September, 2004, to be exact.

I did it for really stupid reasons, but thankfully, I smartened up enough to discover a good and just reason for doing it – to preserve my health.

I was dating a guy back in ’09 of ’04. A little Asian number, semi-gym rat who had accosted me on the street the night we met and asked to come up to my apartment. I told him no, but I would take his number because frankly no one had ever approached me in such a bold and refreshing manner.

I called him. He came over a week later. We started to make out…and we kiss a few times…and he goes (Nail #1), “I’m really crap at kissing.” And I go, “Oh…cool.” So we had a ‘huggin’ grind’ make out session that frankly, was beyond sub par and although it eventually got me going…seemed REALLY forced and akward. (Nail #2)

So then he pulls out the willy and starts talking about my size…and not in a “Oh my god it’s HUGE” kinda way… (Nail #3). Not that I’m small by any stretch, but who the fuck DOES that… 1) on a first date, and 2) before you’ve done it with someone.

Then he’s all, “Take me into your room and fuck me.” And I’m like, “Dude…this is our first date. You approached me on the street. We won’t be fucking tonight.” (Nail #4). And I do up my pants for some more above-the-clothes-hugging… đŸ˜¡

So he decides the kitchen is as good a venue as any…and he pulls out the todger again. And I’m certainly amused and enjoying it – I’m a man, after all…but he was striking me as more and more odd…

…and I say, “I need a smoke. I’ll be right back.” So I go out onto the balcony and light up. I finish and return inside.

He gets on top of me again and I kiss him and he’s all, “You smell disgusting.” (Nail #5…although this one took longer for me to realize…)

Now, I’m all, “Oh sorry.” And I was feeling terribly insecure at that point, and this guy really liked me and I stupidly thought – he likes me, I shouldn’t be smoking.

So I decided to quit smoking. Fine. I took my last pack, wrote the date on it and placed it in a picture frame – cheesy, I know, but it worked. I also filled out a quit counter on my pc and left it running.

I researched quitting smoking and discovered, through many sources, that nicotine is completely out of your system 24 hours or so after quitting. Also, I learned that withdrawl symptoms…WTs…last for 72 hours, as your body copes without nicotine, but then are ENTIRELY in your thick, empty and cavernous skull.

So I lasted about a week…in the interim, this boy travelled to Montreal, a trip he was quit excited about. Before he left, we spoke on the phone. We shot the shit, talked crap, flirted, the usual…

…and then I asked – “What are you gonna do while you’re there?”

…and he replied – (Nail #6) “Sleep with as many men as possible.” [pause] [cue nervous laughter to cover up true intention as a joke] [fade to black]

…I was slightly taken aback. I certainly didn’t expect a marriage band after a week, nor did I want one. I was fully aware that this guy was odd at this point and that I would ride it out to see what happened. HOWEVER, I am entirely protective of my body and my health so I thought…”Why would he tell me such a thing?” And I also noted that this guy was kind of a whore…kind of…sure.

So he returned and we saw each other again. He was so overjoyed that I’d quit smoking…I was over the moon, too. Then we got into my bedroom and he pulls out todger-tim again, only after an intense round of hugging… :s

…anyway, he pulls it out and then says, (Nails #7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 and 14) “Yunno…I don’t give head without a condom.”

And I’m all, “Wha-?”

And he goes, “I just feel it’s safer that way.”

And I was so flabbergasted, I couldn’t say anything. I did think however, how insulting it was that he implied I – the virtuous, eternal good boy – was not worthy of lip to weenie contact…under the incorrect assumption that I was a) a whore and/or b) diseased. Neither of which could EVER be used to describe me. Colour me annoyed.

THEN…he says, (Nail #15) “Yes, and I require double condoms for anal.”

First of all, when you’re in bed with someone – who uses the term ‘anal?’ – how about ‘back there’ or ‘backdoor’ or ‘third input’ if you’re feeling frisky.

“Give me your penis I want some anal.” WTF?!?!?

Second: clearly, despite being Asian, he was dumb as a post – a racial generalization I know, but if I don’t keep that glorious practice alive, WHO WILL, huh? Seriously – he’d clearly never taken a physics class. Neither have I, but I can tell you while I wasn’t in physics class I found out that, even lubricated, two condoms rubbing together will destroy themselves…

…perhaps Krypton is merely shifting it’s orbit…



Back to my point – two condoms for *ugh*anal*ugh* is the RETARDO move of the century, possibly only being outdone by the night Hitler’s mother and father decided to get it on.

So we hugged *yawn* some more and I sent him home, denying him a rubberized ride on the Seanster…I mean really…how fucking insulting.

I called him the next day and basically berated him for his lack of schooling and/or idiotic notions about what was safe. I guess if you go to Montreal every other weekend and fuck everything in site…you need to keep up with the latest techniques.

So that was the end of him.

In that time, however, I realized that not smoking was hot. And that waking up and not coughing up a large phlegm sphere was really hot. And fingers that weren’t yellow were way hot. And not running out of breath crossing a room was tres hot.

In short:

Not smoking…that’s hot.

Sean Gilpin – Free and Healing for Eight Months, Nine Days, 15 Hours
and 7 Minutes, while extending my life expectancy 22 Days, by avoiding
the use of 6341 nicotine delivery devices that would have cost me


~ by seangstm on June 9, 2005.

One Response to “Non-smoking-condom-jockey”

  1. A follow-up…was sitting on a patio yesterday and noticed the douchebag that this blog is all about.

    Everything came flooding back.


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