PPPP = Potts Point Power Poof

I got this from this month’s DNA, Urban_Homo, whoever you are, you are one funny writer, I flip to the back every time DNA comes out just to read what things he’s been up to.

Some other funny ones from this month were HH@GP = Husband Hunting @ Green Park, which was the Sunday afternoon last chance to pick up a Sunday night shag spot for gay men in Sydney, until it moved to The Beresford and as Urban_Homo pointed out it is now called Jurassic Park as only old gay men go there now.  And he also pointed out that the Beresford clientele has also multiplied in number, grown in stature, increased in musculature and intensified in tannage.   Very witty but true, I have never seen such an Ice queen crowed and I don’t mean crystal meth, although they could be on that as well.  So good looking and yet they all stare down their noses at every one as though they were vegans in a butcher shop.  I thought I was ugly and inadequate there the first time, but I figured out a few weeks later that my look hadn’t suddenly slipped in status, it was this place was full of insecure people with low self esteem, who are extremely defensive, so they give of caustic vibes to scare people from seeing too deeply into their own fragile souls.  Low self esteem is good for making people look good because they become obsessive about going to the guy, clothes, haircuts, waxing, what they eat and low cal drinks, take drugs and dance all night and then don’t eat all the next day after their big night out.  Their motivation to be loved is very high, as they can’t love themselves.

But this reminds me of my own PPPP Potts Point Power Poof from many moons ago.  It took 3 week to actually meet up from first talking on the phone, and then when I offered to pick him up as his car had been crashed, he snapped at me because I wasn’t able to bring our meeting forward an hour with only 5 minutes notice, that should have warned me off, but I persisted due to the shear amount of work we had both put into meeting finally.  He was good looking and lived in the Sable Town Houses a very fashionable building in the power poofs hierarchy of building in the gay ghetto of Potts Point, but when we finally met, I noticed his eyes were very pin pointed and his speech although posh, was quick and not very audible.   He was 40 and distinguished  and had the big corporate career.  Our meeting had finally come together because he told me he was dying to be fucked, so I said yes as a way of finally meeting him.  That was a mistake, as no soon as he was on the bed begging to be abused, he had a brain snap and changed his mind and stormed out of my apartment throwing his clothes on saying, “it’s not you, I’ve just changed my mind.” Mmmmm, I think he was probably in crystal, that’s what he erratic never able get it together to meet was about and the eyes and the dying to be fucked. And maybe even the car crash.  Mr. Corporate big shot, hiding behind his money, career, suits, car and luxury apartment when all he really was, was a 40 year old with a drug habit and a good job.