Timothy's on Church: On Being Scene

:: Dear Bloggary:

It's only been a couple of weeks now -- blogging for the very first time -- but I have to know: does that still make me a virgin? (Or is that ... a virgin again?) I feel as if we are just getting to know one another. Perhaps I am feeling a tad impatient for fame -- I'm ready for my close-up, Mr De Mille!. Call me impetuous but I want more! Maybe I need a slogan?

Slogan idea: I was thinking of "I Blog Therefore I Am" ... but it seems too obvious. Besides, I'd rather invoke Bacon, not Descartes, the former being gayer than the latter. This Canadian bacon is no Cartesian plain! And who doesn't want to bring home a little Canadian bacon nowadays? (Especially now since we can get married! Finally!)

But I dunno ... maybe "You are what you blog"? Still, I'm the writer and you're the reader so maybe I'll try on "I Am What You Read".

I've been poking around (the net, nicely) and am finding a lot of blogs are little more than glorified, and often perverse, rants. There are a surprising number of right-wing Canadian rants, too; but thankfully a lot of interesting, sexy, off-the-wall homos pouring their hearts out, too. If you check out my list to the right (oops! faux pas!), you'll find some local gay bloggers worth checking out. (Some of these guys are soooooooooo cute! MightyMaloney (at left) aka Too-Many-Heartbreaks-Recently, is definitely among the sexiest. *sigh*)

:: My most heartfelt blog desire, just as if we were meeting face-to-face, is to show you a good time. I want you to leave our encounter with a smile on your face and a warm silky glow in your tummy. I certainly want you to come back for more. In what not only seems like, and was in many ways, another lifetime far, far away -- the late 1970s -- I did write regularly. I even managed to get paid for it, from time-to-time, albeit earning less than a subsistence wage. Starting over at this stage in my life, I am aspiring to be a waiter; in the meantime, I write. I hope you'll agree, as an editor said of my work once: "Alexander, it doesn't really matter what you write about. It's just got to be a good read."

Slogan idea: A bloggary of buggery? Hmmmm .... I think that's best used with a different blog ID.

Hey! This is hard work! It ain't just purdy typing (and occasional hunky pics)! A silent room's a tough room. (Hint, hint: use the comments facility I've installed. See signature line below.)

:: It's not as if there aren't lots of interesting things going on in the gaybourhood. I live in the heart of the gay village of downtown Toronto -- steps from the doorway of Pittsburgh's most famous gay bar, Woody's on Liberty Ave, as seen on Queer as Folk -- the real Woody's, that is.

Which means I am also around the corner from Timothy's World Famous Coffee on Church Street. In fact, I am here now, writing this note, as I often do on a weekday afternoon. I tend to sit inside, usually, and all too frequently, alone. The place seats about 20, including about 10 comfy wingback chairs next to wobbly round tables. As the temperature falls, the four seats next to the faux fireplace may require "extra service" to obtain. ("Fresh cream in your coffee, sir?") Yes, this is the same Timothy's location I have been slaving over my Tao Te Ching so someday my ghost might haunt the joint, like Hemingway's does up the street at the Selby Hotel. I wonder what he would have thought had he known it would be a successful gay dance club some day?

(For those of you westies who think this blog is too Toronto-centric, let me add if I were living in Vancouver, I'd be at Delaney's on Denman, instead, every day.)

Slogan idea: "It's mainly because of the meat". Hmmmm .... quite apart from the risk of having my ass sued by mogul Conrad Black, noted Dominion Store empire ravager -- acccckkk! Or worse! His wife Barbara Amiel! *shudders* -- modesty forbids me adopting such a line.

The biggest challenge of blogging, on a more or less daily schedule, is that I lead a pretty mundane life. I need to get out more -- but that, alas, requires money. Did I mention I am for hire? At the moment, it's only words on offer, not my private giggly bits; but it looks like another long, cold winter coming up ... so you never know. Anyway, if you need someone who indents well ... I'm your man! (Please see the boxed ad under my sexy pic at top right.)

:: This afternoon, a little after 1 pm, I headed over to Timothy's and was pleasantly surprised to find Julian sitting here chatting up his friend, and sometime colleague in the film biz, Cindy. If you've been taking notes, you'll know Julian is my long-term ex-ex who had an emergency appendectomy in Barrie two weeks ago. Naturally, he showed it to me when I asked: the scar is lovely.

"They don't use sutures anymore. It's more like duct tape to seal you up," he said, pointing to the incision.

"Here's your chance to get creative with a tattoo", I parried.

Otherwise, he was looking well, if a bit tired. He's been in the big city for a couple of days for a check-up, renewing meds and friendships (not necessarily in that order), and having a couple of baths at his friend's condo (it's a very nice bath). A quick catch-up, and a slurp or a few of my coffee, and he and Cindy were off to catch the 2:30 Greyhound bus back to the wilds of the north.

With Julian off, I was able to get back to scribbling some notes about life, and sit back and enjoy the second "medium; black; in a mug; caramel vanilla nut" cup of coffee. And cruise, of course. (Cruising is so civilized at Timothy's ... you can just sit there and smile; none of that strenuous dancing, or shaving your nipples before you go out.) I paused, closed my eyes for a moment, and began to mull over what to write about today.

:: I felt the cool breeze as the main door swung open and in walked -- gasp! -- HIM ... The One I'd Shave My ... for. *sigh* He's about 30, I'd guess Pacific Islander ancestry (maybe Filipino with a little latin blood, or some Hawaiian influence?), medium height, olive skin with a hint of a tan, and an electric grace in the way he moves. As on the other occasions I have chanced to see him, I greedily gobbled him up. Oh, and he dresses with such class, a bit on the preppy side, but matter-of-factly so, with no pretence, simply making a statement. He's got a bit of that classic V, shoulders-to-waist, and he's trim but I don't think particularly athletic. (I imagine his arms could wrap around me quite securely, however.)

He stood in line a moment, got a coffee, and sat on the padded bench opposite me but at the far wall, as he usually does, opened his book and started to read. He'd caught me staring, indiscreetly, on past occasions while I was trying to write; so he already knows my goofy, slightly embarrassed smile.

This time I was determined to be strong. I buried my head back in my notebook and tried to think what to write about.

"Um, hi", I heard a soft tenor purr tentatively ... at me! I looked up. It was him -- HIM! -- standing right in front of me, book tucked under his arm, coffee mug in hand.

"Mind if I join you for a few? I've noticed you come here, sometimes." He paused.

"Sure!" I mumbled, finally, half out of breath. And gesturing, "Have a seat." Tripping over my words, I added: "Glad to meet you. My name's Alexan- " but he interrupted me as he accepted my handshake.

"You're SensualPoet, I think. That *is* you, isn't it? You posted some pics." He paused. I lit up. "My name's Randy, by the way."

"Oh my gawd," I blurted out. Well, giggled out. "You've been reading my stuff? I thought you might think I'm a stalker." I laughed, nervously, there being a ring-of-truth to that.

Randy smiled. "Nope. I've been enjoying your writing. You're obviously not a stalker! I thought I'd recognized your pic from, er, another site but when I came across your blog pic I realized that it was you."

Not giving to fainting, I didn't ... but it's a good thing I was sitting down 'cause I was swooning just then.

"I laughed really hard through the Sperm essay. I hope you don't mind that I showed it to a bunch of friends." He paused again, knowingly. "No, of course you don't mind ... you're very good at self-promotion, aren't you?" His eyes twinkled at me and he broke out into a warm grin. "Could I give you my number?"

Did I mention he has a very sexy Adam's apple? And now I know about the smile, up-close-and-personal, too. I closed my eyes, just for a second, to savour the moment.

:: Just then I felt a shudder of cold air -- that darned door again! -- and then my shoulder being jostled. I looked fondly to take in Randy's gorgeous hand resting on my shoulder. Startled, I discovered it was a uniformed Timothy's person. "You finished with that newspaper, bud?"

I blinked and looked across the table. Empty. I searched the other side of the cafe. No sign of Randy. I need more caffeine, obviously. Daydreaming like that sucks.

And, Lordy, I need a boyfriend, too, don't I?

Ontario Election Night: We've Seen Worse

:: In Ontario, every four years or so, this Canadian province has an election. An election has to be called within five years of the previous election; the current Premier usually has the privilege of deciding when an election is called. During approximately a forty day window, candidates for all parties are signed up and the election is held. Ballots are counted (by hand) in about 3 or 4 hours election night. Then it's hands-off again for another four or so years.

Since I have lived in the province -- March, 1956 to present day -- we have had a steady stream of mainly Tory (Progressive Conservative or PC) governments. Most of those have fit the "Red" Tory mold -- fiscally somewhat conservative and reasonably liberal socially. But since the forty-two year Tory lock on successive governments was broken in 1985, the usual opposition party -- the Liberals (Grits) -- have been in power a couple of times; even the more extreme left, the New Democratic Party (NDP), have had one stint at the helm.

Tonight, the current eight year Tory reign was ended at the hands of the Liberals and its leader Dalton McGuinty. The new government won a comanding majority of 72 out of 103 seats in the provincial legislature (located here in Toronto, just down the road from where I live, on a grassy knoll called Queen's Park); the Tories, under Ernie Eves (who was fighting his first election as Premier), were reduced to 24 seats from 59, and thus became the official opposition. And while the NDP, under Howard Hampton, garnered almost 15% of the popular vote, they only managed to grab 7 seats; when the dust settles they will no longer be recognized as an "official party".

McGuinty is a "new style" politician: he looks good on tv; he sounds direct while being vague; and, as so often happens in politics these days, he's won his chance at the top job more because people dislike the current guy than have any special desire to see him as leader. He has four years or so to win the trust of the voters and put together a decent cabinet to nudge the province in a Liberal direction without upsetting too many people. McGuinty will do best if he turns into a "Blue" Grit.

:: Ernie Eves was the Finance Minister under the previously elected Premier (Mike Harris, who ran under a more strongly right wing platform than Ontario voters generally opt for; he resigned in 2002). To be blunt, Eves ran a dismal campaign that, to the casual observer, looked like he wanted to lose. After 16 months as Premier since the retirement of Harris (in Ontario the man or woman leading the party in power becomes the Premier between elections), Eves had shown himself to be a generally likeable, but lack-lustre -- and even directionless -- leader.

With the power blackout in August, he finally rolled up his sleeves and looked like "a decent chap" who might be capable of being in charge -- after a string of bad luck disasters from the Walkerton tainted water scandal, SARS in the city and, at the outset of the election, a meat packing plant brouhaha. There was a sense that in education, health and hydro -- three traditional Tory achievements of generosity and fairness -- Eves had dropped the ball. He looked good reasurring the people during the blackout; but what happened during the election campaign? Some would say he showed his true colours.

Some men are simply not cut out to be leaders and Eves strikes some (me, anyway) as the quintessential right-hand man -- not a leader. In his new role as leader of the Official Opposition he might actually shine -- although his generally quiet demeanour suggests otherwise. He will, at least, be well prepared. And his days are numbered: a party convention is likely to be held in early 2006 to replace him. After over 20 years in the legislature, Eves is not likely to try to hold on to the leadership.

:: For all this, the real story of the night was not McGuinty's triumph -- who many felt for the past year to be likely to win this election -- nor the failure of Howard Hampton, the leader of the NDP since 1996, and who is also likely to be cast aside in about two years time by his party; the real story is that of the Green Party of Ontario.

Who?

The Greens are linked to others Greens sprouting up across the Western world (especially in the UK, Europe and the US), although this is a "spiritual" link, not an organizational one. Possibly for the first time in Ontario history, a fourth party has gained 3% of the vote. It will be a very tough slog to make further gains in 2007, the likely date for the next Ontario election because the system discourages new parties; but there is room for a fourth voice.

Ontario is a place of centrist views and, for the Tories, Grits or NDP to hold power, they need to move into the centre while making the other parties seem extreme. There is a natural argument for Tory vs Grit; the NDP, normally identified as being the furthest left, have the hardest task. The only time they ran the government (1990-95) they won with a mere 37.6% of the popular vote but managed to win 74 of the 130 seats. Once in power under leader Bob Rae, they did not heed the call of "centre" and were tossed out dramatically after one term.

Ontario Election Summary:
  From 1943, six PC leaders in a row ending with Frank Miller in 1985;
  David Peterson (Lib) 1985-90; Bob Rae (NDP) 1990-95;
  Mike Harris (PC) 1995-02; Ernie Eves (PC) 2002-03;
  Dalton McGuinty (Lib) 2003-?

Seats and Popular Vote by Election Year
	1985	1987	1990	1995	1999	2003
PC	52 (37.0)	16 (24.7)	20 (23.5)	82 (44.8)	59 (45.1)	24 (34.7)
Liberal	48 (37.9)	95 (47.3)	36 (32.4)	30 (31.1)	35 (39.8)	72 (46.4)
NDP	25 (25.7)	19 (23.8)	74 (37.6)	17 (20.6)	9 (12.6)	7 (14.7)
Green	0 ( 0.1)	0 ( 0.0)	0 ( 0.7)	0 ( 0.4)	0 ( 0.7)	0 ( 3.0)

:: So how do the Greens fit in? Well, for one thing, they are so darned nice; you can smell mom's apple pie warming in the oven. Their party platform has "Ten Key Values" including: Ecological Wisdom; Social Justice; Grassroots Democracy; Nonviolence; Decentralization; Community-Based Economics; Feminism; Respect for Diversity; Personal and Global Responsibility; Future Focus/Sustainability. Red Torys, Blue Grits, Far Left Socialists and Far Right Libertarians will all find acceptable centrist turf in the Green platform.

No other party even mentions violence, except ina law-and-order context. Community-based economics is likely to result in lower taxes; feminism, diversity and grassroots democracy appeals to anyone who feels dis-enfranchised -- and with the skepticism about politicians in general these days, that is almost everyone. The problem is the Greens have not been tested anywhere in Canada yet: they have yet to elect a member to Parliament or a Provincial Legislature, let alone gaining official party status, graduating to opposition party or taking power. Each of Canada's main three parties -- left-leaning rightist Tories, right-leaning leftist Liberals and left-leaning leftist NDPers -- has managed to form a government provincially. Is there room for a fourth party? And if so, is it the Greens?

:: Tonight's election provides some hope: disenchanted Tories, Liberals and NDPers could all vote Green if the party itself grows in credibility over the next four years. In my riding of Toronto Centre-Rosedale -- a drastic mix of old-monied Toronto, a large working class, a large welfare class, and a highly visible gay vote -- the openly gay Liberal incumbent won handily against PC and NDP hopefuls. George Smitherman, a strong candidate for the next Cabinet, won 51.6% of the vote against a slate of five others, and a substantial increase in plurality from the previous election. The Green candidate, Gabriel Draven, captured a respectable 4.5% of the vote. In the riding next door, Trinity-Spadina, the Green candidate Greg Laxton managed nearly 6%; the incumbent NDP Rosario Marchese won handily with almost 48%.

Although I have been a member of the PC party off-and-on since 1970, I have voted NDP and Liberal on occasion; and while my first choice is PC, my vote is based more on the merits of the local candidate than the party. This election I voted Green and I intend to keep an eye on the party in the future.

With a federal election looming late next spring, after the coronation of Liberal Paul Martin as next Prime Minister succeeding Jean Chretien when he retires in February; and the NDP led by Jack Layton (currently not a member of the House of Commons); and the "right wing" in disarray with a shrill, extremist Stephen Harper as leader of the Canadian Alliance and a non-entity Peter MacKay leading the PCs -- it might be the time for the Greens. Alas, the party's website doesn't even mention the name of its federal party leader (it's Jim Harris). In the 2000 election resulting in a solid Liberal victory, the Greens actually came in sixth scooping up just under 1% of the national vote; the NDP came in fifth.

You do have to admire the hutzpah of the leader of the provincial Greens, however. Frank de Jong pulled in a respectable 6.1% of the votes in the riding of Dufferin-Peel-Wellington-Grey, beating the NDP candidate by 13 votes to take the third spot. The guy who won the riding took a commanding 56.7% of the votes, winning by a landslide. His name? Ernie Eves.

Tuesdays with Tao: Three - The Way to Wu-Wei

:: Every Tuesday, I'll be publishing one more chapter of my personal re-interpretation of Lao-tzu's awesomely inspiring and quietly wise Tao Te Ching. Despite being written down some 25 centuries ago, it is a marvel of contemporary insight. The opening chapter, The Essence of Tao, is here; Two To Tango is here.

The first chapter introduced us to "Tao" and some of the inherent paradoxes of trying to describe the indescribable. Last week, the Sage was first invoked as someone who emodies Te -- the way in which Tao manifests in the universe. This week, "wu-wei" or not doing -- that is, taking action with instead of against -- is discussed along with related advice about desire: desire is a distraction from Tao. Much of the first 37 chapters revisit these ideas repeatedly so that gradually you come to "know" what Tao and Te is, without having to "figure it out".

Three - The Way to Wu-Wei

Exalting those who do good works, instead of celebrating the work itself, creates jealousy.
Withholding that which is rare creates artificial value and thus leads to scheming to attain it.
Placing the beautiful out of reach in glass cases quickens the desire to grab it.

Knowing this, the Sage distracts the People by:
  Emptying their minds;
  Filling their bellies;
  Discouraging their ambitions;
  Strengthening their bodies.
When the People are not exposed to trivial knowledge, they will not act from desire.
Then even the cunning ones cannot tempt them.

When not-doing is embraced, all is done, nothing is left undone, and peace reigns throughout the land.

Comments welcome!

Sperm: Mining the Net for Humour

:: I was minding my own business -- I just can't believe it! -- when one of my best friends remarked when I had introduced him to my blog, that I "had too much time on my hands". Doesn't he know that I am an artiste?!?

To prove him wrong, wrong, wrong! I decided to spend the day surfing the net looking for facts about sperm and to discover, perhaps, a culture of sperm. This blog episode is the result. Steel yourself! During the time it takes to read this, hundreds of millions of these unfortunate helpless folk will perish. Alas, that is their lot in life.

I decided to begin my search in the discipline of music lyrics. Here man's natural expressions of admiration, frivolity -- and lust, perhaps -- might be found; a quick trip to Google did not disappoint. I searched for "sperm" and found quite a lot -- much of it not printable even in this blog. However, an old favourite headed the list: from Monty Python's The Meaning of Life, Every Sperm is Sacred. It is sung from the point of view of a Roman Catholic head of the household and eventually every member of the family chimes in.

Every sperm is sacred.
Every sperm is great.
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.

Hindu, Taoist, Mormon,
Spill theirs just anywhere,
But God loves those who treat their
Semen with more care.

Every sperm is sacred.
Every sperm is good.
Every sperm is needed
In your neighbourhood.

After this parody, however, things go downhill rather quickly, with images of death, destruction and nastiness in most lyrics containing spunky bits. Rap and metal are to blame! I am certain Schubert wrote nothing of the sort.

I did like the poetry in a lyric of a band called Momus -- "My Sperm Is Not Your Enemy" (from the album Oskar Tennis Champion (2003)) of which this is a sample:

My sperm is not your enemy
In it glistens destiny
Some day you'll appreciate
This acrid, viscose gunk
An agglomerate of goo
Ammonia, bamboo
Condensed milk, runny glue
And eternity!

My sperm is not your enemy
Hold it in your hand
You hold (you know it's true)
The future of man!

Among the remaining printable lyrics from other sources, Caldwell/Ferryman/Kaufman/Mullin sounds the most intriguing: "Airborne sperm from outer space / You better watch your face. / Airborne sperm from outer space / You know you love the taste."

:: Which brings us quaintly round to the correct use of sperm. Now of course, there is a fundamental purpose for it: to join with an egg and create a new human life. However, just as most women only make use of a handful of their eggs in a lifetime, most men dispose of, flagrantly some would say, on average 1,080,000,000,000 or so sperm. So if something on the order of 1 in 500 billion or so of these little devils is actually pressed into service creating life, it is probably ok for us to find other uses for the 1,079,999,999,998 remaining -- give or take a few billion -- that aren’t required for procreation.

Abby's Sexual Health Info site seems to have the right attitude and includes a Fun Sperm Facts page.

For example: what's the shelf-life of sperm? I don't mean in a fertility sperm bank; I mean still inside that cute boy you've been cruising? Did you know those tasty critters only last 2.5 months, from "development to ejaculation"? For most of us there's little danger in them "going off" because they've been let out long before they are due to expire. And it's a darn bit longer than a lot of boyfriends last these days!

I also discovered from Abby that they rocket out of one's manhood at the not too shabby pace of 28 miles an hour and generally only need to travel 3 to 4 inches to fertilize an egg. How ironic that, years later, it's so damned hard to get him off the sofa to carry the trash down to the end of the driveway.

Not that I'm bitter, but, ladies, we don't get those multiple orgasms you (reportedly) enjoy. We get ONE. And we hate wasting them. The worst thing in the world is to sploosh without the RUSH. And the whole thing only lasts four seconds, on average (that's the orgasm, even if sometimes the rest of it seems just as brief).

:: Emboldened, I decided to dig further. If a man's sense of virility is tied to size and stamina (or so say the dozens of Viagra ads overflowing my e-mail box daily), the amount he cums is also a vital measure of his masculinity.

While modesty does not permit me to divulge personal specifics, I chuckled at the unlikely claim that "average volume of semen per ejaculation is 1-2 teaspoons". I have seen a teaspoon of yoghurt! A teaspoon of maleness couldn't possibly create this much mess. (This is a good thing; unlike environmental spills, small is not better. Let's face it, men: quantity is part of the quality.)

More controversial, perhaps, is the 7200 ejaculations per lifetime. Durex, international maker of Performax condoms which contain a "climax control lubricant on the inside to help prolong your sexual enjoyment", reported last week that the average Hungarian was having sex (with a partner) 150 times a year. Most of us guys are busy exploring solo "down there" more than 2 or 3 times a week -- at age 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 .... Again, without releasing any state secrets, I'd suspect the average male might burn through those 7200 lifetime ejaculations just as a teenager.

Using the paltry teaspoon-per-ejaculate, and a mingy lifetime-of-7200-splooshes, let me just say the claim that we "average guys" only produce 18 quarts over 60 or 70 years of the world's finest, mass-produced, natural elixir sounds like it needs to be revised upward. Big time.

Every teenage boy has wondered if he's going to "run out" or "run dry" and most of us have tried to, on occasion. But they are persistent little critters, our sperm! Did you know we're producing these wiggly guys at the rate of about 5,000 per second? Our bodies are on a quota schedule to produce about 400,000,000 new ones every day. Now that's a party!

Thankfully, those cute sticky little guys are small -- there are 80 to 300 million of them in a single serving. You can see why your boyfriend needs to pause before providing a generous second helping if he really delivered well the first time. The risk of pregnancy has got to go down on the third or fourth outing in a single night.

:: If you were concerned that I wouldn't get around to discussing the nutrient value of that blond twink shaking his booty on the dance floor -- no fear!

The nutritional value, even of demon seed, is all on the plus side. Cute bois, and even less cute ones, will present you with a yummy mixture of: water, ascorbic acid (vitamin C), blood-group antigens, calcium, chlorine, cholesterol, citric acid, creatine, deoxyribonucleic acid, fructose, glutathione, hyaluronidase, inositol, lactic acid, magnesium, nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium (just like bananas!), prostaglandins, purine, pyrimidine, pyruvic acid, sodium (something you'll need replacing if you've been sweating a lot coaxing the little beggars out of their cave), sorbitol, spermidine, spermine, vitamin B12 and zinc.

Still, it's less than 1 calorie and, based on a standard 300 million spermatozoa serving, provides: 150 mg protein, 11 mg carbohydrates, 6 mg fat, 3 mg cholesterol (not sure if this is good or bad cholesterol), 7% US RDA potassium, 3% US RDA copper, 3% US RDA zinc. If you're a vegetarian, I suggest you get over it and get under him. We all need some protein in our diets and this is an all natural living source. (Think of it as warm yoghurt.) Remember: a trillion of these guys are going to die anyway so you're not really harming anything.

There are numerous discussions of how to alter or improve the taste. Unbelievably, some women and a few gay men actually don't like the taste of the stuff. It's important to point out that the sperm itself -- that's the chewy, chunky bits -- have very little flavour; it's the semen, or carrier fluid, which adds to the savoury satisfaction. From a practical point of view, you might want to remember that the tongue is made up of different taste receptors. The ones sensing sweetness are on the tip so you may want to be sure to give your guy a good licking before swallowing ... I am sure he won't object.

One source on the net claimed: "In general, the taste of a man's semen varies with his diet. Some say that the alkaline-based foods (fish and some meats) produce a buttery or fishy taste. Dairy products can create a foul taste; the taste of semen after eating asparagus is said to be the foulest. Acidic fruits and alcohol (except processed liquors) give it a pleasant and sugary taste. Examples: oranges, mangos, kiwi, lemons, grapefruit, limes, Labatt Blue, Honey Brown, etc. (drinking a Corona with lime is double the fun." (Others reported celery, pineapple and cinnamon improve the flavour. Looks like I need to do some serious extended research on this.)

And nix the artificial sweeteners. Regular use appears to lower sperm counts measurably. Equal, Aspartame, Saccharine, Sweet-n-lo, Nutrasweet ... if you want your sperm counts to remain high ... or your boyfriend does ... stick to real sugar and do another couple of reps at the gym to burn off the extra calories. How's that for a win-win situation? Unless of course he's disposing of some of those delicious gooey treats in the steam room ...

:: A lot of women, as we have already seen, take a healthy interest in sperm and sperm production. Holly Webster reports:

The sperm's only motivation is to get into the woman's vagina and uterus, to impregnate an egg.

Sperm can swim in hot tub water, can swim through underwear, can swim across skin. They do not need to be PUT into the woman in order to GET into her and get her pregnant.

Sperm can live for up to 5 days after being released, and can 'wait around' for an egg in order to impregnate it.

(It made me wonder if gay guys produce sperm looking for other semen? Most of us are delighted to make the acquaintance of a sailor.)

The Australians have a neat male sex health site which is lubed and ready to answer your questions, safely, about all aspects of male sexuality. You'll discover, among other things answers to questions like:

Can I taste my semen?
Yes, though you have to get some in your mouth first.

Is it common among straight men to taste and swallow their own semen?
Who knows? Straight men are the least likely to talk about which parts of their bodies they like - they often have enough trouble admitting they like their partner's bodies. However, you are not automatically a homosexual (or a bisexual) just because you like your own body and its fluids. There is nothing wrong with enjoying your own body, regardless of what anyone else may say.

More than one site posited the question: "Are you looking for a sperm drink?" but they didn't mean a shot glass of fresh jism, just alcoholic beverages with a nod to the colour and possibly the texture of your date's private juices that you dragged to that fancy martini bar. Now just in case you think I am making this up, here's the instructions on making a Sperm Bank.

Fill a shaker half full with ice cubes. Pour all ingredients into shaker and shake well. Strain drink into a Cocktail glass and serve. Ingredients: 1.5 oz. Light Rum, 0.5 oz. Creme de Cacao, 1 oz. Heavy Cream.

No word on whether to shake or stir your boyfriend after a couple of those.

I also came across a couple of bizarre news stories. From Russia's Pravda (oh how things go down hill in the news biz once the dictators go home) I found this item:

The taste of sperm can predict future
The visitors of one of the brothels in the Japanese town of Nagoya are offered to mix business with pleasure. Kaho, the priestess of love who works there said that she can predict a man's future after having oral sex with him. As Kaho said, she has already predicted the future of almost one thousand men, and they are all happy, since they paid for sexual services, but also had their fortunes told. Kaho once told one of her clients which horse to stake on in a race, and he really won. She also helped another guy make a proposal to the girl he loves, and now they are happily married. This reputation is very good to Kaho, as she now has a lot of clients.

And a controversy erupted in Holland when a manufacturer of one product, Popsy, started to sell its vanilla-caramel flavoured booze in 20mL "sperm-shaped bottles" with the slogan "I’m coming!" emblazoned across the label. The Dutch Foundation for Alcohol Prevention grumbled that the campaign is perverse and breaks advertising codes.

Associated Press ran a story over the summer, "Study: Abstaining makes sperm perform worse", the gist of which was couples struggling with infertility due to low male sperm counts may increase their odds of pregnancy if they "do it" a couple of times a day around ovulation, instead of "saving up" hubby's juices for one massive assault during the wife's most fertile moment. Withholding those sperm for more than a day or two can actually decrease the quality of the male's contribution. 7200 semen sample were examined in this study (where do you get these jobs, anyway?).

The number and proportion of motile sperm, meaning active and moving sperm, fell significantly from day two onwards, reaching a low at day six and remaining low. The percentage of malformed sperm also increased after just a few days of abstinence, the scientists found.

"You may have more sperm and more semen volume, but the quality is less. Usually, fresh sperm are better than stale sperm," said Lynn Fraser, a professor of reproductive biology at King's College in London. "What you really want to do is flush the system out so that the sperm that are there are fresh."

Finally, leave it to the BBC to run a story indicating scientists are ready to fertilize a woman's egg without male sperm. Scientists in Australia have found a way to fertilize eggs using genetic material from any cell in the body -- and not just sperm. This could put Brian Kinney out of a job; he'd have to stick to making Justin sticky from here on in and leave the girls to their own devices.

:: Hey! And just when I thought I'd gotten all sticky in a barrage of one porn link after another researching this article, what do I find? Academics (fun people we know)!

In an article entitled Only the sperm knows, Hopkins MD/PhD student Loren Walensky asks: "Why is a sperm like a nose? Because both can, in a sense, 'smell'." He finds that sperm tails contain the same types of odor-binding proteins that noses do. The proteins, he suggests, "smell" odor messages from the egg, which allow the sperm to find the egg. He goes on at great length, always a happen circumstance with male sexuality.

Where is Wilhelm Fliess -- the man who convinced Freud there was a direct connection between sexuality and the nose -- when you really need him?

The Sperm Aficionado among current readers (are you still with me? Sick puppy!) will also want to check out some clinical discussions of sperm. A reasonably plain language introduction is provided by Rothamsted Research , a division of Biotechnology and Biological Sciences Research Council of Britain. There will be a test following. Be sure to memorize acrosome, centriole, mitachondria, flagellum and be able to describe how the little guys wag their tails and how they eat their way into the egg to fertilize it (ugh).

And at California's Stanford University, there's even a whole website of sperm animations available online. I rather liked this one because it demonstrates another amazing sperm fact: A sperm's muscle drives nature's only known rotary-joint. The tail SCREWS, not whips. No kidding. Really. I am NOT making this up!

The things you learn on the net! Perhaps I do have too much time on my hands -- but when I do meet Mr Right, with regular access to that delicious male elixir again, think of all the fascinating things I can find to chat about?

Ending, as we began, on a humourous note: there were a lot of jokes posted about man's best friend; here are two that made me smile and not wince. (It helps to be gay to find these funny.)

How do you tell if your boyfriend has a high sperm count?
If you have to chew before you swallow ....

What does your boyfriend and the Bermuda Triangle have in common?
They both swallow seamen ....