Let's get one thing straight.

I'm not. I never have been. And I never will be*.

Science is beginning to suggest that sexual orientation, or sexuality, or sexual preference, or whatever the hell you want to call it, is at least partly genetic. In other words, it's something you're born with, not something you develop, or catch, or decide upon. It certainly isn't the work of the devil, or of God, and anybody who tries to suggest otherwise needs their head examining pronto. In case you hadn't yet realised what I'm on about, weather you like cock, tits, both or neither, it's all completely natural.

Which is why things like this piss me off big time.

I understand that people who are coming to terms with their sexuality can find it a very daunting process, and may initially be 'weirded out' by the prospect of having sex with someone of the same gender (although, if that's the case, then you're probably not gay anyway), and certainly are cautious as to your family's reaction. And I can definitely understand why you would consider trying to become straight to please your family - when I was coming out, I remember trying to picture a life in which I had a wife and later kids. In each scenario I thought of, there was a different wife, and in each and every scenario, it all ended unhappily because I preferred cock over tits.

This doesn't mean that I dreamt of every single possible scenario; far from it - I don't believe that I am 100% gay, in the same way that Miu claims she's not 100% straight. I don't know if there's a girl out there who might actually succeed in making me question my homosexuality - if such a girl exists, she probably wouldn't succeed in making me believe I'm straight, because I just don't think anybody is completely straight. I think I'm going off topic here.

If someone thinks they're gay and they don't want to be, then it is for them and only them to find this out. Therapists and anti-gay organisations and religious groups and homophobes have no right to meddle with someone's personal life, and I don't care if they claim they're doing it to 'help', because quite often it doesn't help and only serves to confuse people more. I mentioned in my coming out post that I saw a counsellor when I was coming out; she did not try to indoctrinate me into being one or the other, she did not force me to believe anything, and she certainly did not approach me claiming she had all the answers. I spoke to her, and she listened, and she was a great help, and I'm waffling.

I don't even know what I've said any more, I've written whole paragraphs and deleted them before they were finished because it was a load of bullshit. Maybe next week will see me be a little more coherent.

I don't know what to say....

And as such, this post will join my other posts which consist of nothing but bullshit and waffle.

The contents of this post.

In a way, I'm glad that Eli has already defined the terms 'dogging', 'cruising' and 'cottaging', because this a) saves me from having to compromise my browsing history, 2) saves me from having to do the same but in a much more confusing manner and thirdly, has told me what these terms mean, although I think I covered this reason in point i). I am also silently cursing her, because I have even less of a clue as to what to write about this week as I thought I would, save from comment on the borderline dogging which occurred in Las Vegas with a certain grandson of the Queen.

When I heard about said grandson's antics in Vegas, aside from wondering what he was doing in Vegas and not in Wales or the Falkland being brave and flying mountain rescue helicopters (or is that William? I can never remember...) I instantly decided that this would be the topic of my post this week, because I said to myself enough times that I actually began believing it that the person who took those photos was dogging... and then I began to realise that dogging is the act of watching other people have sex, most of the time outside, and that the published photos display neither sex nor the hotel exterior, then it failed to qualify.

And so I had nothing to talk about.

Even my friend couldn't suggest what to talk about, aside from talking about gay composers like Michael Tippet or Benjamin Britten or Aaron Copland; a suggestion he quickly retracted when I pointed out that 1) that's got nothing to do with dogging/cruising/cottaging, and b), if I wanted to talk about gay composers, I could just as easily talk about myself, in which case nobody would give a flying fuck anyway.

I think it's for the best that I just don't say much more apart from my opinion.... don't do dogging (is that even grammatically correct?!), because you can watch porn and filter out all the crappy videos you don't like without having to leave your house/room/bed. Don't do cottaging - I find relieving myself in public toilets unhygienic enough; the thought of having sex with a stranger who may possibly be just as hygienic as the cubicle wall he's pressing me up against is simply grotesque. And lastly, don't do cruising (unless it's around the Mediterranean or Caribbean on a boat) because if you get a serial cruiser, then you have no idea where the parts he's putting in you have been before.

The only remaining acceptable alternative to cruising.