The territorial behavior of California beach city residents is a joy to behold. As soon as the weather warms up a little I am going to practice nude Kundalini yoga at Pirates Cove on Pt. Dume in Malibu. That’s me hogging up all the good life. Call me the crazy Val getting more mileage out of the beach than your average Malibu millionaire with his private territorial mansion. I get more out of life than everyone else because I know the right people and read the right books.
Last night in the desert this youth-addled twink I had been talking to all day asked me if I wanted to have sex with him and I said: “I don’t know.” A few minutes later I made love to the moon and it was better than it would have been with a generic tall good looking blond kid from Cathedral City.
Leaving the desert at 3:00 am I stopped a few times and arrived at the Bay Club Santa Monica at 6 am. 9:00 am yoga, breakfast in Playa, two naps, and now this blog with my medium coffee from Tanners. Doing exactly what I want and need. Appreciating my life like never before.
My pansexual learning curve has been epic. Last night watching all those small town gays mince about like women made me appreciate my big city homosexual education and credentials. I spent Palm Springs Gay Pride 2017 at a nude resort and only had sex with myself because I prefer it that way. I’m the territorial blogger making you up and owning your name. Chauncey Dennis is whoever the fuck I say he is. The Bay Club is my territorial energy pool where I soak up all of the infinite California Dream that I can handle. Landless and infinite while inhabiting the new territory of consciousness.