Dear Friends:
I’ve done it. I migrated over to Blogger. Here is my new link…http://sirtoddyenglish.blogspot.com/
Thanks WordPress.com for being my home for over a year. However, I’m doing this out of convenience. The number of websites that I traffic was getting tedious.
Hope to see everyone on blogger…
haha.
Cheers!
Toddy English.
Dear Friends:
I am moving! Well, not technically (at least not yet). I am moving this blog, however. I’ve decided to relocate “To My Friends: With Love…Sincerely, Toddy English” to Blogger. I chose to because…
1.) Practically every blog I read is on Blogger. I am getting sick of clicking over just to read all my favorite stuff…Yes, I’m lazy. I lay claim to that.
2.) Blogger has more pretty colors and dynamic design templates. All the templates here are pretty static. I’ve yet to find a blog template that suits my personality…Bleah!
3.) I’m succumbing to peer pressure. I can’t take it anymore. I have to fit in. It’s like being that lone kid in school with an XBOX when everyone else has a Wii.
The only reason I settled on this blogsphere is because I didn’t know which to choose…so I just did “Engine Dengine Number Nine chuggin down Chicago Line…” The train went off the track and I got my money back at WordPress.com “shrug”.
Don’t worry, this blog is not going anywhere. I’m going to link it to my upgraded version. Anyway, I’ll still be doing my regular content…Just in a different space. I’ll let you know when I finally decide to ante up.
Cheers!
Toddy English.
Dear Friends:
For the last six weeks I’ve been attending a salsa dance class. I love it! Dancing has enriched my life a great deal. It’s like cardio therapy or something. Whenever I’m having a bad week chile I leave all my cares on the dance floor! In addition my dance instructor, Ricardo, is extremely H-O-T (Don’t tell him but sometimes I intentionally flub my moves just so he will take me by the hands and show me how it’s done. Chile, when Mr. Ricardo twirls me around it’s everything I can do to keep from fainting)!
Anyway…
This week in class was quite interesting to say the least. Mr. Ricardo started us off, as usual, on some dance 
drills. During this lesson we had some new students in class, particularly this new guy (I’ll just call him Justin Timberfake; because he looks exactly like JT, except his head is shaved) and his mother (Brenda).
Alright, so myself, Ricardo, and Justin Timberfake were the only guys in the class (depending on the week the gender ratio can swing) this weekend. I didn’t mind at all seeing as Mr. Ricardo had on a white T-shirt that hugged him tighter than Aretha Franklin’s arms around a 24 piece bucket of KFC. Needless to say while we were practicing I stayed behind him the entire time.
Anyway…
Me and Justin Timberfake were rotating around the room so that we could be dance partners with the single ladies. Well, after an hour (the class is two hours long), I went to have a seat and some water. That’s when Justin Timberfake approached me, seemingly out of nowhere, and said, “Hey whassup playboi! How you doin!” Then he proceeded to give me some dap. At first I was just going to give him five, but he went into this elaborate hand shake (lol) that confused the hell out of me. Initially I thought, “Oh lordt…Someone is trying to get some street credibility.” So I sat there in mortal dread awaiting a review about the latest 50 cent album ::groan:: However, to my pleasant surprise, the conversation did not go as expected…
Justin proceeded to compliment me on my t-shirt (I was wearing a Super Mario Brothers t-shirt. I’m not a gamer. I just love all the pretty colors). “Yo dude I love that shirt. You a gamer?”
To which I replied, “Naw, I just love this shirt.”
Then he asks, “So what high school do you go to?”
”I’m not in High school. I just graduated from college.”
“Oh, so you legal? That’s whassup then! At first I thought you was some jail bait…” he laughed. Then he paused momentarily. Justin looked at me and asked, “So, you party?”
Insert blank stare here. “Party?”
“Yeah, have you ever been to a house party?” he asked.
Alright, I’ve been to parties before at someone’s house but, for some odd reason, I thought Justin Timberfake was talking about something totally different. “No, I’ve never been to one of those…” I said. I was sorta scared it would be like a crystal meth party or something. Chile, prison stripes is NOT the LOOK.
“Seriously dude?” he said, “See, you need to come with me. We do WHATEVER we want to there. You gotta be 18 to get in though…that’s why I was askin you how old you were.”
“What do ya’ll do in there?” I said.
Justin Timberfake cracked a sly grin and said, “Don’t act brand new playa…”
Chile, my jaw hit the dance floor and bounced! I simultaneously erupted into nervous laughter. “Uhm, do you know your mother is like five feet away from us?” (lol)
Justin Timberfake continued, “So you wanna go?” He smiled again. Had to admit it. Justin Timberfake was hella cute. plus he had some swag appeal (lol).
“I don’t know…That’s not my kinda thing, y’know?”
To which he responded, “That’s cool. I’m not tryin to make you feel uncomfortable or anything…”
Anyway, I suggested we practice dancing. With that I proceeded to the dance floor. Well, Justin Timberfake followed me. “Yo, how about you show me your suzie Q.” Suzie Q is the name of a new dance we were practicing in class. The Suzie Q was sorta difficult for me because it takes a ton of fancy foot work. So, while I’m practicing Justin puts his hand on the small of my back and says, “Yeah you got it. See, you can do that for me at the party.”
“You just don’t quit!” I laughed. I will give him points for serious persistence. That was VERY appealing.
“Next week I’ll wear my Halo shirt and we’ll be in here matchin…”
To make a long story short Justin and his moms had to leave a bit early. So, I decided next time I’d get his digits. He’s sooo not boyfriend material, but I don’t gotta be in love to hang out and have fun. Besides, he krute!
Toddy English
Dear Friends:
Would you date someone that was HIV positive? Have you dated someone that was HIV positive? Are you with someone that is HIV positive?
A few months ago (around my birthday) I made an Adam4Adam account. After being touched by Jesus (literally) I felt compelled to indulge in a random fling or two. Well, after about two dates I gave that up. I’m so not the hooky uppy type.
Well, let’s fast forward to a few months later, some gentlemen hit up my old account a week ago. Anyway, bypassing all the details, this guy turned out to be really fabulous. Granted, I’m just basing it off of appearance. When he opened up his pictures I thought, “Oh my goodness!” He’s really tall, slim, and VERY handsome (in a professional GQ type of way), I’m talking WHIP APPEAL handsome (i.e. “Chile, I got WHIP LASH turnin round to look at that man!”). He’s older (like in his 40′s) and had a wonderful grasp of the english lexicon (he could actually complete sentences! Something you don’t find a lot on A4A).
So, after talking to him for a minute, I read his profile in depth. The first thing that jumped out at me was his HIV status. Like a neon sign “POSITIVE” just jumped out at me like an exploding supernova. “Oh my god…” I thought. It threw me for a loop that’s for sure.
Granted, I think it’s righteous that he knows his status and is honest about it. However, I admit that dating an HIV positive guy has never been high up on my list of wants, needs, dreams, and desires. Personally, I’m all for people finding true love; however, I don’t think I could be completely free–sexually–with someone HIV positive. I’m not a bigot. That’s just how I feel right now.
Well, he wants to meet me in person oneday. I’m thinking I would like to be his platonic friend.
Toddy English
Dear Friends:
I’ve got a few things going on in my world that I’m wonderfully excited about…
1.) This morning I got a phone call from a prestigious law firm, in my city, that was interested in my resume. So, they said they have forwarded it to Human Resources and will be getting back to me. I am so jazzed man! This was one of the jobs I actually wanted. I’ve been getting feed back and offers, but from insurance and car sales (vomit). So, yes I’m psyched. I am so serious about having a new career by this summer…
2.) I’ve recently started writing my book and it is coming along swimmingly! Basically, the story is a supernatural/science fiction/horror/thriller set in the hood. I’m loving it because it’s the type of story I’ve always wanted to read (but never got the opportunity to do so). The story centers around two seemingly insignificant junior college students (outcasts if you will) who are chosen to save the world complete and utter annihilation.
Basically, these kids–who are nowhere in their lives–finally found purpose inside of chaos. Their extenuating circumstances and harrowing adventures will serve as the background. Their growth and development as people will be the focal point.
I’m hoping to have it complete by early next year (I’m talking after rewrites and everything).
FYI: I’m not sure if it will be one novel or a series…as I’m really beginning to love these characters. In addition this story will be accompanied by a guide book…written by an angel.
3.) This vegetarian shift is coming along great. Granted, I miss that feeling of full that meat gives you (okay, that could TOTALLY be construed as sexual innuendo) but, according to my online vegetarian community, that is to be expected. For the record I still eat eggs (will not give those up Therefore veganism is not the path for me). But, other than that, I’m feeling really good about this new lifestyle change. I’m noticing the positive changes in my body.
Personality Right Now: Easy, breezy, and hopeful…
Grew up in a small town
And when the rain would fall down
I’d just stare out my window
Dreamin’ of what could be
And if I’d end up happy
I would pray
Trying hard to reach out
But when I tried to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I prayed I could breakaway
Break Away
by Kelly Clarkson
Dear Friends:
My decision has been made. Within the next few months I’m going to strive for a new career (I am not going to give myself any other option other than success). Afterwards, I am casting aside ambivalence and leaving behind the familiar.
This weekend I had an epiphany. Try as I might to belong in my environment the realization set in that this is not where I belong. Driving home from work last Saturday evening I finally tired of driving down the same streets. I’ve grown weary of seeing: the same people; on the same corners; in front of the same houses; with the same bottles of gin; enroute to my house. I am tired of being gleeful and ebullient away from home yet bored and solitary when I’m there. I’ve seen every block and traveled every trail in my old neighborhood. The monotony makes me want to scream. In addition I cannot relate to nor identify with anyone there. Initially, I thought it was the neighborhood that had changed. Now, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is me that has changed (for the better). Everyone else has seen it. Yet, it took me forever to figure it out myself. Now, because of this realization, I am overwhelmed by wanderlust.
Spirit Fingers
This year Iwant to break free and start a new life, a life that is all my own and of my choosing. I finally feel worthy of that. Furthermore, my work is done. I’ve dotted all the ‘i’s’ and crossed every single ‘T.’ There is nothing left for me to do in my current environment. Therefore, it is time for a new one. So, I have my: car, clothes, matched luggage, savings, college degrees, and–most importantly–myself. I can do this.
True, I am a bit skittish but my determination is beating the living shit out of my fear. No matter where I wind up (as I’ve broadened my career search outside of my home state) I am going to do wonderfully. I’m going to keep saying it (and throwing little Michael Jackson spirit fingers) and make it come true. I’m not giving myself any other option, ever. Granted, I’m not harboring any lofty ambitions about changing the world. All I’ve ever wanted was a safe space just for me. After that I can take it from there.
With Love…
Sincerely,
Toddy English.
Dear Friends:
Have you ever dated someone with a peculiar sexual fetish? I’m not necessarily referring to extreme gross out kink (e.g. water sports, scat, snowballing, and etc al) either. I’m speaking on fetishes that are seemingly inoffensive but sorta make the little hairs on the back of your fingers stand up. Some people come into a relationship with a little sexual kit n kaboodle that you’ll find either adorable or benignly perverted. I had one such experience and it started a little something like this…
Two years ago I briefly dated a guy named Adam. I met Adam at a Starbucks coffee-house. He bumped into me and sent my books crashing to the floor. Adam helped me pick up my stuff and the conversation proceeded from there. We vibed instantly. Adam was really cute (in a big loveable kind of way), hella funny, and employed. So, since he fit all the criteria for a date it was a go.
Well, we went out a few times and started phone boning (phone sex) and making out (not going all the way though). On the third date we discussed having full on sexual intercourse and what we liked. Alright, so we’re lounging in the McDonald’s parking lot (yes, we did have a Golden Arches date) and Adam pulls out his wallet. He started showing me pictures of all these teddy bears. The photos of the Teddy Bears were really cute. I just found it bizarre that all of his wallet photos were of teddy bears. One of them was of him sitting on his bed surrounded by Teddy bears. Adam also had a picture of a really big bear (life-sized) that he named Robbie.
I thought nothing about it, initially. It seemed innocent enough. “Oh he collects Teddy Bears. How sweet.” I thought. It really did make him more adorable…
That was until he told me what he liked to do with those damn bears. 
Adam, in a low voice (half jokingly), said he got aroused having oral and anal copulation with ‘Robbie’ (tell me HOW he accomplished that I don’t know. I still don’t think I WANT to know). He further elaborated that he had been in actual threesomes with Robby. My next thought was, “How can you be in a ménage à trois with an inanimate object?” I laughed. At first I thought he was playing. But as he continued his expression never changed. Adam was being for real. Hell, the way he discussed it he LOOKED like he was getting turned on. By that time I had been rendered completely mute. It was so weird. I didn’t know whether to laugh or be confused. I just sat there and acted like I heard that kind of thing everyday.
Honestly, it would have been easier had he just told me he liked urine and feces. I would have said, “Alright, up out my face boi” and BROKE. But how do you react to something so sweet and cute like a Teddy Bear? The ambiguity in this peculiar predicament was a bitch. So I just asked him, “Are you for real?”
After we left McDonald’s he was excited about the prospects of: me, him, and Robbie gettin down together. I won’t even lie. I did entertain the idea; however, that was just way too out there for your’s truly. The closest I ever got to that was humping my bed when I was twelve. In addition, I asked Adam had he ever had sex without a bear around. He answered honestly and said no. That kind of freaked me out. It left me with the notion that he would much rather have it off with stuffed animals than humans. Needless to say me and Adam kinda fell off after that. He was a really cool and likeable dude too. But my big fear was that Robbie may have been quite unsanitary (with all the MANnaise in him) and that Adam had some form of arrested development.
Now, I kind of wonder whether or not Robbie was around when we had phone sex? ::shudder::
Anyway, I was just thinking about this today; but I have dated some HELLA kooky cats in the past!
Cheers!
Toddy English.
Dear Mehcad:
Yes! I want to see, touch, taste, and be smacked in the face with it!
With Love…
Sincerely,
Toddy English.
P.S.
Oh my god that was so slutacious but I don’t care. haha.
Dear Friends:
I’ve always been interested in becoming a vegetarian. Due to my lactose intolerance (Dairy makes me quite an unhappy camper), love of animals, and general revulsion to the unnaturalness of processed food this seemed a plausible route for me. Yet, my dilemma was that I never knew how to go about it in a proper and healthy manner (always wound up getting hungry and starting up a chicken binge). Granted, I cut out all: red meat, pork, and fried chicken ages ago; however, thanks to “The Kind Diet” I’ve been flirting with the idea of entirely plant-based diet (and doing so correctly and gradually) and craving “nasty foods” less and less.
Alicia Silverstone (star of the 90′s classic Clueless) is wonderfully candid and conversational as she educates the reader about the world of: plant-based foods, proper nutrition, and the dangers imposed upon animals (and subsequently the environment) due to unnatural practices in the farming industry (a lot of things we take for granted, in terms of food processing, will literally turn your stomach).
What impressed me most about the book was that it didn’t come off as preachy (i.e. ‘Don’t eat meat! If you do you are gross and evil!’). I know that Alicia is a PETA member but her tone is neither judgemental nor self aggrandized. Like a loving mother Alicia gently guides the novice vegetarian through all of his or her options. If you merely want to ‘flirt’ with the idea then go right ahead. If you want to become a full on Vegan then there is a chapter for you too. And if your goal is to be a ‘Superhero’ (refusing all animal products and processed foods) then have at it.
I’ve just begun to flirt myself and I’m pleasantly surprised by the results. Granted, this isn’t a huge paradigm shift for me (as I was never largely carnivorous anyway) but I notice the positive changes in myself. What I love most about a plant-based diet is that it brings about an awareness of what you are putting into your body. It is really easy to just stop at a McDonald’s and scarf it down. It is another entirely when you are shopping for your food and then preparing it, for yourself, in a way that will be good to your body. It truly brings to light the idea that your body is in fact a temple.
If you’re interested in this type of lifestyle then read ‘The Kind Diet.’ I highly recommend!
With love…
Sincerely,
Toddy English.
Theme: Rubric. Blog at WordPress.com.
toddyenglish
@$$ Is Not The New Vagina
Rumpalicious!
Dear Friends:
I’m having a huge problem lately. I’m still trying to figure out why so many gay men (well those of the bottom persuasion that is) refer to their rectal orfices (okay @$$holes) by such endearing nicknames like: Boi pussy, kitty cat, boogina, mangina, and etc al? Since when did ass become the new vagina?
Moving right along…
Okay, so whenever my good acquaintance and I delve into raunchy sex conversations (well, it’s mainly him. I am so demure when it comes to frank sex talk in public, lol) he’ll jokingly say, “Gwarl, when is the last time you had yo pussy cat stroked?” Of course that particular inquiry is always good for a chuckle; however, I’m often left standing with the metaphorical glaring neon question mark floating above head. It makes no sense why anyone would compare their ass to actual genitalia. Moreover, why would a grown man relate his ass to lady parts?
To me the mere idea makes me feel like I’m totally emasculating myself. I already know that being more “bottomly inclined” comes with a tremendous amount of stigma (even in gay society). However, I take no shame in it. It is how pleasure is derived for me. I simply refuse to compare my body, a man’s body, to that of a woman’s. I think women are beautiful. I’m just not one of them. Which is why I don’t understand the need to nickname your ass with a colorful descriptor generally used to describe the pleasure zones of a woman.
One guy I know refers to his rump as ”booty candy.” Are you kidding me? Booty candy? Uhm, no honey. The last thing that’s coming out of your ass, after you done knocked back those chili nachos, is candy (unless you consider your excrement to be fudge pops or something). In addition I hate, hate, HATE, it when a dude says, “Chile, I saw a man so fine he made me moist!” Can you say EEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWW? Uhm, look, if you’re moist back there–sans working up a sweat–then you need to seek immediate medical attention (or invest in depends undergarments). Sweetie, that is NOT the LOOK.
Furthermore, I could see calling your asshole something akin to a “pussy” or “kitty cat” if no one else, but gay men who
assume the bottom position, had an asshole. However, EVERYONE–including women–have assholes. Hell, I think cock roaches have assholes too. That region of your body is not distinctive. So, why steal “pussy” from the ladies? Chile, you ain’t Beyonce. Your asshole is not a Kitty Cat, end of story.
Granted, I’m not up here preaching. If you are convinced your ass is a pussy then do you boo boo. I just don’t get it.
Anyway, I apologize for sounding crass (oh my god I’ve never sworn that much in my life, haha)but this was on my mind(lol).
With L-O-V-E…
Sincerely,
Toddy English.