When the plane spilled me out at midnight in the middle of beautiful downtown San Diego I was ready for some city life. My son picked me up, drove us straight to Ocean Beach, where the scene was rocking with crazy surfers in wife beaters, muscles and testosterone. We bar hopped our way around the beach community and made it back to my son's place just as the sun came up. After sleeping sufficiently the next day, and visiting the Hustler store, which was a moral imperative, I got a call from one of my dearest friends, the Distinguished Deviant, asking us to come join him in Mexico. Woohoo! We wasted no time hopping a bus to Rosarito Beach, celebrating our reunion in the center of a gorgeous hotel courtyard. We toasted to old times and met his fabulous friends, such as the sweet and talented artist, Paco Garcia. The D.D. purchased one of Paco's paintings from him for me. I adore it. When I whined about my hunger, the next invitation was to pile into the D.D.'s lovely friend's clunky, old truck, complete with a screwdriver for a stick shift, a cracked windshield, and an uncomfortable engine noise. We headed down a main road, risked life and limb rumbling at a speed limit unacceptable in the states, to a nearby town to chow lobster. No way in hell's red kitchen could I ever refuse lobster. Horses were everywhere! We saw soldiers with machine guns; poverty, garbage, beauty, ocean waves crashing against giant rock formations, stray dogs wandering the streets, then whipped up a winding street filled with happy people and parked. The five of us climbed to the roof of a canary yellow restaurant across from the pounding shoreline, gathered around a long wooden table, and inhaled the salty ocean air. It was amazing to be spontaneously in another country and I was taking it all in. I was glad my son is fluent in Spanish, so as to avoid me ordering gawd only knows what. We were promptly served freshly made tortillas, beans, rice, big fat lobsters, and free tequila and beer. Viva la loca!

Hours later, when we were stuffed to the gills, and six sheets to the glorious Mexican wind, we drove to a nearby town to watch the Oscar de la Hoya fight on the big screen. There I had the best tequila and mucho kisses from a handsome Mexican man, which was okay by me! Oscar won the fight, and the shabby, dark bar erupted into the best kind of chaos. We left there in a sea of hoopla and spent the night at the Distinguished Deviant's lovely friend's beachfront condo. Two o'clock in the morning on a Mexican beach was where I finally felt all my cares wash out to sea.

The next morning, my son and I walked about a mile through the streets of Rosarito to the bus station. Not a soul was about except for the occasional thin dog, and the bar owners hosing down their patios from the party spillage the night before. The smell of the streets was horrific, but that's part of the deal I guess.

Getting back across the border was tedious and long, but once back in the states, our rights returned, we slept like babies until it was time to get up and celebrate Cinco de Mayo in Old Town. We feasted on Ahi tuna and steamed clams and more tequila. We spent a day at the world famous San Diego Zoo, ate as much seafood as humanly possible, and had just under an hour to scoot me to the airport for home. Well, lord love a lapdance, there was my tattoo artist buddy I had met on the way. I had forgotten about him and now we shared a row of seats and our stories. He bought me tequila while I rubbed his feet and he told me about his girlfriend. Damn, guess the mile-high club membership wasn't going to happen, but I made a new friend, even better than that, a boyfriend who is faithful albeit someone else's. It was the principle I admired.

Speaking of which, and back to that subject, the Yum Yum Boy ex and I have been hanging out entirely to much I've decided. For instance: the Fourth of July (producing our own fireworks once again), an entire weekend together drinking, talking and humping every which way but loose... hmmm, wait no, there was that time too. Again we poured ourselves into yet another Reverend Horton Heat show with all the trimmings including the inevitable, torrid trouble afterwards. We always have an incredible time together, but what the hell am I doing? I'm being selfish, as I wouldn't take him back for a million bucks. But I get the good parts, and then send him home to his poor girlfriend - has no idea - to deal with. I feel the shame, the guilt, as I've been in her place, not to mention my whole take on deception to begin with. Okay, this has got to stop! Christ in a convenience store, even I need a bitch slapping and butt-fucking sometimes! So, YYB, deceitful sodomite, I will be the stronger one, as I usually am, and stop this carnival ride. I want to get off (so to speak)!

want the heat-sinking missile, but this guy doesn't deserve the saliva it takes to spit on him with. Don't let anyone talk to you like that, not without a swift kick in the peanuts. The next guy you go on a date with, take a little more time to figure out his character first and just to be on the safe side, duct tape his mouth shut. A friend once blurted, "God likes it when you don't speak". Amen to that, honey!

Dear Mz. Conduct, I am not gay, but I sometimes fantasize about sucking my own dick. I've seen pictures of guys that do that and it just makes me horny to think about it, even cumming in my mouth. Is this unusual and any tips on how can I actually do it? Peter Pondering

Dear PP,Auto fellatio is the name for that, and no,it's not getting a blow job in your car. it's also not all that uncommon to fantasize about sucking your own penis. I mean who knows your body better than you? Of course it'd be hot! I had an ex boyfriend who would lay on the bed, put his legs up over his head against the wall, then gradually lower them to his ears. He was able to suck the tip and stroke it that way. It was pretty smoking to watch, I tell ya! If you're into yoga and/or fairly flexible, that can be helpful, and even if you don't have a long penis you can still accomplish it if you're in decent shape. Now go suck yourself.

Dear Mz. Conduct, I'm a twenty eight year old straight guy who has been seeing this one girl for almost a month now. The first night we got together we made out and fooled around. She almost let me get further, but then changed her mind when I brought out the condom. Ever since then she won't even let me kiss her. We go out, have fun and she even spends the night, but she still won't let me do anything with her. This is driving me crazy! I am trying to respect her, but I also told her I want more. She says she's not ready and wants to just cuddle in bed. I have to get up in the night and head for the bathroom to take care of myself and she gets mad, not understanding the male body I guess. I'm leaving town in another month and don't have time to invest in any sort of meaningful relationship and I was honest about this with her. What should I do about this unfulfilling situation? Blue Balls in Boston

Dear BBiB,You poor thang! I can understand wanting to wait, but if she knows you will be leaving and still isn_t ready for more, then it's just not fair to either of you. I would at the very least quit letting her spend the night. Go out and have fun with her as you've been doing, but keep the sheets for the girls who'll use 'em! She sounds as if she really doesn't understand or respect what she's doing to you as a man, geeze! She may have a butt load of baggage, and I'll bet my Baby Jesus Buttplug that you don't need any more baggage than you've already got packed. Might as well get some action before you go, so buff up those blue balls and be a man about it! Say Bon Voyage to this one.

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