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The economists of the world discuss the spending habits of the American consumer, calling it the “new norm” — outlining what’s the normal thing for the consumer in a post-recession, worried about recovery marketplace.

For me, it seem as if my hound-dog days aren’t over. I’m fucking. But I’m not fucking as much and I’m certainly not writing about it. The NSA of “no strings attached” should be replaced with “WOTMBSA” for “watch out there might be strings attached.” Of course, this comes up to bite me in the ass.

I’m not tolerating drama or bullshit. My dear bi guy has apparently gone bye-bye. *But it’s not something I’m crying into a beer over.

As I posted on BarebackRT.com, why can’t I find something between a boyfriend and a fuckbud?

Of course, my location makes for difficulty, since I’m so fucking far from downtown and the 20-minute drive makes most bottoms break into a cold sweat. All of those Atlanta prissy missies need me to drive my ass to them.

I do miss a lot of the social interaction on Facebook and Twitter with those who actually meant something. But work is now replacing the playtime and I’m often pounding away at less meaningful interactions.

So I hope for more strings-attached fucking with some folks who want legitimately to have a bit of a relationship out of things. I await.

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