cherry-poppers

It’s been a couple of days since I started blogging, and not surprisingly, some of my friends have asked me about the title: diary of the virgin queen. I’m not implying that I am still a *snort* virgin am I? As one of my co-workers pointed out, this coming from the same person who talks about “kinky stuff” every chance he gets, surfs Web sites that always have that “Yes, I agree” disclaimers, and watches porn like it’s a Saturday-morning cartoon marathon.

While I suppressed an urge to sarcastically reply that my blog is actually a tribute to Queen Elizabeth I of England, or for that matter to Cate Blanchett, one of my favorite actresses, who got an Oscar nod for portraying the original virgin queen, the fact remains that yes, despite my supposedly potty mouth and extensive video collection, I am still *gasp* a virgin.

The closest thing that I ever came across some M2M action since coming out more than five years ago was feeling up my classmate in high school. And that was even purely accidental. I've never danced on any gay club, nor have I been on any gay bar to watch strip shows (I did go and see Thunder from Down Under the other year, but that was so... wholesome). And with the exception of shudder-worthy EBs, I've never been on a proper date. Did I mention that it's already five years since coming out? Give me eight more and I'll be pronounced dead in the gay calendar.

So there. At the risk of sounding like a sour grape though, I have no issues about it... yet (hey, it does get frustrating when you know people who are actually getting some). I'm a firm believer that there's a right time and place for everything, but let's hope that for my sake, it's sooner rather than later (read: interested parties, feel free to contact me ^_^).