Sorry that I've not been with you for the last few nights, my DSL was messed up and I couldn't get on the highway. It has been a drama filled week, an unusual situation in my life. Normally it has no ups or downs that warrant more than a few moments of concentration. This week was the opposite, pet problems, phone problems and DSL out. All the minor inconveniences are now in the past except for the pet, she will be suffering for the next few weeks. I just can't believe how careless some people are when entrusted with another's precious companion. Oh well, on to more interesting topics, men on the rocks. Fitting, isn't it?

I don't quite understand what it is about men climbing on rocks that spell sex, but looking at these men I know there is something natural about that feeling.

Butts.

Enjoying the sun.


Beautiful man. He would have lured many ships to crash on the rocks.
Playing on the rocks.

Don't bruise those butts boys.

As hard as rocks?

Tight.

Wet.

There is nothing like a man.

I couldn't find a foto of Frank on the rocks. Maybe he'd like to send me one, or give it to me when in Palm Springs.



I'd love to be walking along the river and find this sitting on the rocks. Wouldn't you?


There is a natural desire that boys and men have to wet down rocks. Why?
I'd rather do it this way.



Yeah, piss on civilization.

I'd shower under that stream any day.





Interesting rock formations and men.

A multiplicity of butts that nearly eclipse the rock and sea.