I feel like I need to write something brilliant here, this being my first entry and all. However, it being midnight, and the smell of liquor being on my breath, and my hair being ripped out of my skull over HTML frustration, I guess I'll have to go with simplicity. [Note to self: I like the "it being" construction. Proper English? Check on this.]

I'll cut right to the Internet sex, since that's the only reason I can imagine anyone wanting to read somebody else's diary, really. I'm gay and 22, if that helps. In the past few weeks, I have been going to gay chat rooms for the first time in my life. I never really understood the appeal of chatting with a bunch of fat 45-year-old men pretending to be hung 17-year-olds, but as I grow increasingly isolated in this tiny Minnesota town I suddenly understand it all. I don't care if they're just pretending, as long as they're interesting. I don't care if their pic features rippling abs and a chiseled jaw, so long as they have a sense of humor and can keep a conversation going. (The ability to capitalize letters helps.)

Guilty confession: I met my first Internet man a few weeks ago. It was terrifying. He coerced me into meeting for a round of golf at the local course. I saw his picture, he looked okay. He saw mine, thought I looked cute. Fine. Before we met, I explained that I am sort of in a long-distance relationship, and I'm not looking for love or booty. This was my out, in case I couldn't stand him, but by leaving my relationship vague I could later back-pedal if necessary and say, "Relationship? Oh, that's nothing."

And so we meet. Ew. Have you ever met somebody who is so physically disgusting to you that you can barely look him in the eye? Even now, when I think about him, I shudder. He isn't that bad. He's just tiny (5'4", I would guess), and scrawny (in a uniquely "gay" way), and his head is so... narrow? Like his eyes are almost on the sides of his head, like you could squish it with a tiny clapping motion.

But the worst has got to be his teeth. Or should I say his mutant tooth, which shoots up from between his bottom middle teeth like a coffee-colored spire. I can only think of two things when I'm forced to look at his gaping maw...

1. Hello? Dentist??!

2. Have you ever given somebody a blow job? Because there's no way in hell I would let you use that thing on me unless you were wearing a mouthguard or something.

So, needless to say, nothing came of that meeting (my first and, probably, my last!). Golf was fine, but he got randomly sassy on me on the fourth hole and didn't calm down until he had a great drive off of Six. Besides appearance, he was totally wrong for me. I loathe the phrase "straight-acting," but think of its opposite and you will clearly see the snaggle-toothed gentlemen with whom I golfed.

He still surfaces every now and then in Cyberspace [Note to self: Remove "Cyberspace" from vernacular.], but I just ignore him and he ignores me. He is obviously playing, "He is too good for me, so I will wait for him to contact me. If he does, then he liked my personality, despite the vast and apparent discrepancy in our looks. If he doesn't, then he's just another mother-fucking bitch-ass loser bitch."

I'll devote some other entry to the reason that I currently have a long-distance boyfriend, yet still seek the company of young, vaguely attractive gay men. Hmm, I guess I should come up with a reason, first.