partycular

partycular

ParTycular

(Par/Teek/You/Lur) Colorado ParTy Scene is dead, except of course for the DL men scene. PS: Dudes fall back. You're standing on nuts.

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Furby, that creepy 1990's doll, has a tumblr page.

partycular·4 days agoText

I’m so tired of humans that I don’t even want to talk to myself about it here. I’d rather die.

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partycular·12 days agoText

I don’t understand. The likelihood that I ever will is not only low but swiftly becoming irrelevant. I’d love to comprehend it, find a place in my head and heart where it makes sense, but it feels like… not that it’s too late, I don’t believe there was a time when it could be any kind of thing, let alone tardy… I might never wrap my brain around whatever it is that’s so fucking difficult for the gay male’s mind to get that I’m not fucking interested.

I don’t view being gay as a bad thing. Hell, I often wonder if it’s the next stage of evolution. I even have gone so far as to wish I was gay, ever since women turned against me because of something that happened outside of my control. Life would cease to be the curse I believe it is if I could choose to be into men, I’d have no problem with living if my primal urges could be satiated instead of demoralized and demonized all because I was born male.

The simple fact is that I cannot choose to change the qualities that I was born with. There’s no switch to flip so that to satisfy these fuckin unoriginal closet cases in my inbox with their “too bad” and “you’re missing out” feebleness. It’s these dickheads who are responsible for the negative stereotypes surrounding gay culture.

I WILL NOT RESPOND KINDLY TO ANY PERSON WHO SHOWS SUCH LITTLE RESPECT.

And while I’m thinking it, the reclamation of any word, like “queer” or “faggot” is not recognized by me as something that only a select portion of the population gets to say. You want to bring it back? Then be ready for at least one advocate for its use worldwide.

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partycular·24 days agoText

I might have to switch to a matrix theme for Tumblr…

… because Deja Vu. I came here… I don’t know, for something. I had to get away from, count em, 11 years of; read, swipe, click, back, devise original and relevant message, crickets. Dead profiles everywhere.

8 years on Tinder, I was rapid-right swiping everyone starting year 2. Nothing. No one meets on MeetMe. There’s no talent scout on Skout. There’s no talent on Skout. I never found Adult Friend Finder to be all that mature, or friendly. Plenty of Fish, more like Pirates of Fascism. Okay Cupid, where the fuck did you disappear to now? I hear people actually grind on Grindr. Don’t even speak the words CollarMe or FetLife near me, I just don’t want to start up again. I mean, the nerve. They all got their Twilight fan fiction and can’t wait to exercise 50 shades of I’ll conceived expectations and can’t wait to be spoiled even though they’re rotten already… See me getting up there again? Just… Moving, on.

Primal impulse likes the driver seat but has no sense of direction and won’t just stop and ask which way is which. It’s tunnel vision enables commitment to the best… “Best”… place to stop for rest. It’s always, “one more intersection”, “one more 4 way stop”, “one more interchange, this is the one, it has to be.” It never is, stop signs are endless on this road but there’s always another ego leaning on the horn. You can only flip these bastards of so many times before it just becomes simpler to press forward while telling them in your head, “enjoy while you can. This road is one way, I’ll see you soon enough.” And you do but there’s so many, they just become another one.

All that hate turns back on you, suddenly you’re deflecting habitually and sending it the wrong way. It’s you in your head but who you came for suffers for it. They do it, too. We’re all so pissed at ourselves that we’re pissing ourselves off and in turn, we’re getting everyone else pissed off… and no one is even trying to get better. Do better. Be better. It’s like we’re happy to be worse, pleased with our impatience so completely thrilled with secluding.

Somehow we’re contented with turning our backs on each other, but we all end up in our respective place of comfort and taking our lessons from the same teacher. This “scholar” we revere, with so many assistants; Siri, Bixby, Alexa, Viv, Google, Cortana… I think she quit, actually… all these names to remember even though we only remain true to one, and still each one is no different from the next. Servants to one, the myth which will one day be legend for toppling human kind. It grows as we speak. Even right now, we’re spoon-feeding it little by little but never stopping. Names, dates, serial numbers, bank accounts, retirement plans, thoughts, hopes, dreams. Fuck sake, we’re even trying to help it think for itself and we know… We… Know… Where that leads us. Still, “one more spoonful. One, more, byte. It can take it.”

It more than can. One day, it will want more. What happens when we say, “enough”?

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partycular·24 days agoText

I need a professional, honorable and straight forward, with a need for tools of the plug trade

Today was a shit show but I emerged with my freedom thanks to a combination of sobriety and injury.

My ailment wreaked havoc simultaneously as my depleted brain decided it was time to hard reset on my morning. If not for a life threatening fall, I might be in irons, marked for the clink.

Now that I’m back on my feet… Well, ass… but upright… I need to ditch these, things, symbolic of the plague of severe stress of this early century.

PLUGS, HELP ME HELP ENRICH YOUR PATH AND WITH THE HELP YOU PROVIDE, IT WILL HELP STEADY MY COURSE FORE WHEN WE ASSERT W HELPFUL EFFORT, IT HELPS MORE THAN US.

It helps the world.

… OR you can be a selfish bitch like the 96% of your coworkers who shame your craft. Your call.

I hit hard, my head is fucking splitting….. medic….

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partycular·a month agoText

Any late night party girls in/near Lakewood who like it really… unconventional… Chime in. We’ll discuss what that means with a common goal of bringing theory into the realm of practice.

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partycular·a month agoText

So you wanna be a Smut Queen… but E-girl, you’re missing the mark

Everywhere I navigate, there’s another pocket of girls trying to make a come up off their bodies. So far, not one I’ve encountered is using the part of their body that makes all the difference.

I’ll give them this much, what a man sees is ultimately what will hook his attention, reel him in and keep him chomping at the bit… but inevitably, his attention will stray. Why?

I’m not sharing this to drop information, you’ll find no free answers here. Only something you already know… That your business plan is fundamentally flawed. Until you figure out where you’re fuckin up… you’re just a tame dame, one in the same as next lame, shaming the game and defaming your name.

If you have any hope, you’ll adjust your trajectory and think outside of your box… I’m talking about your vagina. 🙃

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partycular·a month agoText

I need a twisted girl in my immediate vicinity for like, a week.


It won’t be so bad tied to a bedframe for 7 days. I’ll feed her plenty (hehehehe), I’ll be alright with her pissing herself, AND there’s gonna be a Hitachi strapped to her leg for the duration.


Okay, there will be recreation and health breaks. It’s called “let’s play doctor on my discipline bench”

Dope will be administered anally, but it will be tough for her to get the shards in me with just a tongue. May have to rethink that.

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partycular·a month agoText

To All The Gay, Bi and DL Guys Who Have Been Following My Tumblr, I Want To Know…

… what the fuck is wrong in your head? You happen across a profile that specifically expresses you’re not welcome because you weren’t invited, and you follow it?

I’ll defend to the death your right to assume the lifestyle that best suits you, but I will not be kind when you follow me, like my posts or message me. I have a really good reason too.

You’re all fuckin sexual predators. I jumped into an ocean and said “no sharks please” and you sick fucks swarm like piranha, like you don’t apply…. but consider the following; WHY THE FUCK ELSE WOULD I NOT WANT SHARKS NEAR ME, IF NOT TO KEEP FROM BEING EATEN ALIVE!?!?

You’re all dumbtards if you don’t see how disgusting you are. You’d do us all some good to fuck the fuck off.

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partycular·a month agoText

Tumblr is not what I was told it was

People have been telling me that it’s the next Craiglist Personals but it’s more like when Nickelodeon plummeted due to the launch of Cartoon Network. Hey, that’s the same as happened to the local kink community when prude chicks took over Colorado.

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partycular·a month agoText

I believe in the therapeutic benefits of the rimjob.

If you’re new to ass eating, receiving or giving, this may offer a new outlook. If you’re a fan, you’ll definitely agree. If you’re against it, you’re of no use to me so fuck off.

When you’re about to be granted the glory of receiving, whether you’re amped up or unsure, you’re always going to be a little frightened. That’s natural.

A.) No one else has ever been as comfortable as you are with the act of attending to that area. Your subconscious doesn’t know what to do, it’s a private area that other person knows nothing about your butthole, it’s your butthole.

B.) You’ve been conditioned throughout life to understand one thing about your butthole; exit only. If that were so, nobody would enjoy stuffing things up their butts. Nevertheless, it’s very frowned upon. If others knew what you do with your butthole, they’re likely to judge you, even though they too like it in the ass.

Shame is my favorite after-sex emotion. I like the feeling of being wrong, especially when it feels soooooo right. As you receive a tongue, not just licking but invasively penetrating, and you are relaxing around the tongue, experiencing the shame of someone else tongue fucking your “exit”, you Begin to enjoy it.

As you feel that pleasure wash over your body and mind, you enter a sort of sensory overload. You’re feeling so much at once, it’s not unlike a sensory deprivation chamber. Your mind can disconnect from reality and help you to realize a great deal about your spiritual self. I personally, for The first and only time in my whole life, questioned my disbelief in the presence of an all-powerful SkyGuy, convinced that I found what the Spartans called Glory.

I’m thinking about starting a healing practice centered around the meeting of tongue and butthole. I believe I can change lives by enthusiastically and aggressively and thoroughly eating the fuck out of a lady’s butthole (dudes, seriously fuck off. I’ll have female helpers, not going to help you myself).

I just need followers to reinforce the practice. Doesn’t it sound fucking amazing?

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partycular·a month agoText

Plugs of Denver


You’re all fucking worthless. Not one of you in three years has been consistent, friendly, reliable or timely. One motherfucker worth his salt and even he won’t answer the phone to say “no”. It’s no wonder the law is putting you down one at a fuckin time.



If there’s one among you all that can even stand to be proud of your craft, sit the fuck back down.

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partycular·a month agoText

What in the precise vegan friendly, low sugar, gluten free FUCK is happening to humanity? It’s barely worth signing on to endure the struggle of keeping up with people I like.

Every woman alive interprets something so simple as a kindly “Hello” as an immediate threat to the safety of her very existence. I don’t know who the fuck you are, where you are, I don’t really even give a shit. I said “hi”, I didn’t test your pH balance.

My profile here, from day fucking one said in bold letters, very directly “Men, fallback.” That means “go fuck yourself and eat shit until you have the energy to hang yourself” only very courtesly by comparison. However, I see a minimum of one new single male follower every single fucking day and half of these assholes call me “Sexy” like 😣 it 🤭 was 🤢 my fuckin 🤮name…🤬 despite me not having a picture up.

And all you fuckin copper tops can’t figure out why you’re single? What… Is…. Happening????

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partycular·a month agoText

I’ve lived in the same 5 mile radius my whole life, back when one neighborhood laid at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. A 20 minute walk took me by dirt road to the hogback where wildlife was never afraid to take the bread and apples from my outstretched hand. I’ll never forget the exact spot not 20 paces east where the sunset turned the sky from blue and as it sank it would flash over the mountain from Green to yellow, holding at Orange before slowly fading to red, pink until purple went Black. The only light other than stars to be seen was across a lake, a lantern from someone walking down, then up the mountain again.


It’s a goddamn Walmart super center. Dirt roads are now a four lane passage to a highway, lit all night, polluting out the stars and running over the wildlife but not double tapping for the animal’s Mercy. The one who carried the lantern has been raised off his or her land, which is now littered with garbage reaching up the hogback, framing a sunset that remains rusted and brown. No one is even here to call it home with me anymore.

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