New to LPSG, that is, not San Francisco. Thanks to all of you guys and gals for a warm welcome.
Wow! This place isn't without its impact, is it? Wandering haphazardly into these tomes of titillating topics, photographic phorests of phalluses, and sex-sentered social groups can catch one off guard. But somehow I feel like I'm in my element. My back-story, on the off-chance that anybody cares, is provided for here your catatonic boredom:
Born crippled with shyness, I ended up on the nude beaches of San Francisco, where I was forced into a clash between my appreciation of the human body and my fear of being publicly naked. The fear evaporated as fast as the sun tan lotion on my penis...ha ha...and I've been an exhibitionist ever since!
My art-history background had trained me in my appreciation of the human body, but I was too macho to be caught admiring another dude's dork, and despite the compliments I'd get from other guys, I could never bring myself to offer one. Then I moved to Italy, where guys plaster hugs and kisses all over each other with the exuberance of teenage girls in a pillowfight. The more macho the dude, the more hugs and kisses he garnered from his buddies. That shocked me at first, but again, it reinforced a new definition of machismo that seemed somehow more aligned to how we really are than to how we'd like to imagine ourselves. For a guy as pent-up as I was, it was as liberating as that first day on the nude beach.
Then came the foreskin restoration project. On a website we share as a resource of mutual support for a dauntingly slow process, I had to grow accustomed to a world where guys can't stop praising each other's genital progress. Given my experiences outlined above, I guess you could say I was ready for the challenge.
And now this.
Watch out guys...there's almost nothing left that scares or intimidates me...I'm liable to say anything! But the first thing out of my mouth is a simple "Thank You"...for offering me your friendships, for accepting mine, and not least of all for putting up with my "italian overdrive" of emotional cocktail-fueled excesses.
Solidarity!
Miguel Angel
Wow! This place isn't without its impact, is it? Wandering haphazardly into these tomes of titillating topics, photographic phorests of phalluses, and sex-sentered social groups can catch one off guard. But somehow I feel like I'm in my element. My back-story, on the off-chance that anybody cares, is provided for here your catatonic boredom:
Born crippled with shyness, I ended up on the nude beaches of San Francisco, where I was forced into a clash between my appreciation of the human body and my fear of being publicly naked. The fear evaporated as fast as the sun tan lotion on my penis...ha ha...and I've been an exhibitionist ever since!
My art-history background had trained me in my appreciation of the human body, but I was too macho to be caught admiring another dude's dork, and despite the compliments I'd get from other guys, I could never bring myself to offer one. Then I moved to Italy, where guys plaster hugs and kisses all over each other with the exuberance of teenage girls in a pillowfight. The more macho the dude, the more hugs and kisses he garnered from his buddies. That shocked me at first, but again, it reinforced a new definition of machismo that seemed somehow more aligned to how we really are than to how we'd like to imagine ourselves. For a guy as pent-up as I was, it was as liberating as that first day on the nude beach.
Then came the foreskin restoration project. On a website we share as a resource of mutual support for a dauntingly slow process, I had to grow accustomed to a world where guys can't stop praising each other's genital progress. Given my experiences outlined above, I guess you could say I was ready for the challenge.
And now this.
Watch out guys...there's almost nothing left that scares or intimidates me...I'm liable to say anything! But the first thing out of my mouth is a simple "Thank You"...for offering me your friendships, for accepting mine, and not least of all for putting up with my "italian overdrive" of emotional cocktail-fueled excesses.
Solidarity!
Miguel Angel
