HAPPY NEW YEAR

got my outfit ready, just need to figure out where to put my money...........

SMELL YA NEXT YEAR!

when did I learn photoshop?
smiling during the daylight hours?
a semi-muscle on my left arm?

ok, so I moved the pic back up, can I help it if I finally found one lousy webcam pic I like?

so, you know how INERTIA has that negative connotation? I have the more "postive" form of it today; I can't stop moving! 4 loads of laundry (miracle of miracles, not a soul in the laundry room this morning); finally tipped the super and his assistant ( I skipped it last year, being unemployed an all; knew I couldn't do that 2 years in a row); post office, grocery store, scannin g pics for eBay auctions... and on and on.

I think it's this tickle in the back of my throat (not that kind, it's been 32 days since I've had that, not that I'm counting) - that this morning turned into a sniffle, so I know a cold is coming on. And while I don't go crazy on New Year's, I do have plans to stop by a pal's, have a ber or two, so when I'm sick as a dog tomorrow and the next day, would be nice if I planned ahead, had plenty of O.J., clean comfy clothes. More later on the LOADS of nice gifts I've received (I still can't get over the SIMPSONS DVD package!!!!!! - such a surprise, and sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo cool!)


......in Bjork news: a decent TIME magazine article

and a very cool OFFICIAL remix of Pagan Poetry - Matthew Herbert Handshake Mix
oh yeah, how could I forget, my great new t-shirt! - and no smart remarks from you who shouldn't even get the unintended irony of the shirt's design!

stop me before i kill again

I'm sure if it was a bicycle, rather than a car, I'd be doing much better, but nonetheless, Pedestrian Killer, with it's groovy looped music, could very well become my next interent game addiction.

HEY!

How cum no one told me the "auction" link above wasn't working? Guess I was trying to clean out old files, and accidentally deleted it. But have a few mags, etc, up now, so take a look. And Sparky has some stuff up, too. Wonder what I'd look like in a Gold Leather Jacket ?

awwwwwwww crap! I accidentally listed some of the mags under "Lesbian"! Shit, I hope I haven't traumatized anyone, seeing pics of Michael Brawn, David Burrill, Lee Ryder, or R.J. Reynolds! all 90's issues of INCHES, so you can imagine (or not, just click the links)

So, while some of you may think that I just sit on my ass all day, watching porno videos, and scouring old issues of HONCHO and MANDATE for tidbits on my favorite porn stars, I actually do venture beyond the realm of big-digged, hairy-assed, heavy-balled men. (heavy-balled?) Like Saturday, I was reading the articles in the Oct '81 issue of Mandate, and saw a rave review of a then new release by Alberta Hunter - someone who I had never heard of, but would guess some of you cooler folks have. So, I did a search on Audiogalaxy, and sorted thru some of the older work versus the newer stuff. Apparently, from the 20's thru the 40's, she sang her way thru the clubs of Chicago, recorded in New York, and toured Europe, did an award-winning stint with the USO, and at age 59 changed careers and became a nurse in Harlem! Then, in 1977, at the age of 81, retired from nursing and returned to music - This great account gives much fuller details of her early days and recordings, plus some great old recordings from the 20's, including the fact that she was a lesbian. Here are a couple recordings from what I believe were later in her career, the late 70's and early 80's.

Black Man
He's Funny That Way - listen up, you unemployed, married guys
I Got Myself A Working Man
My Handy Man Ain't So Handy Anymore

Sorry it's not one of those "fun" personality tests, but still, its mildly diverting for single boys like me on a Saturday night to get it confirmed right here on the internet that I am a "liberal airhead" - rather reassuring, actually - The F(ascist) Scale - (I scored 2.2)

As I'm sure many of you know, Joe Gage's Kansas City Trucking Co. turned 25 this week (opened on Dec 26th or 27th, 1976 - in time to qualify for the 1977 Oscars, but, alas, no nominations!). I was hoping to have a movie trailer video clip ready to show, but I'm just not technically adept enough (yet) to do it. It's about 18MB's, so anyone with a decent connection speed, I can always e-mail the 1-3/4 minute AVI file, if you'd like. I just put the tape in, am making a copy (shhh, don't tell the FBI) for a young new pal, who never had the opportunity to see the film at all, let alone in a dark, sleazy movie theatre like me - I saw it for the first time in 1979, at the Bijou Theatre on Wells St in Chicago. The original soundtrack by Al Steinman is great, and the synth theme song alone gets my cock all fidgety! Can you believe Gage actually used "Surroundsound" and had to outfit the theatres with special speakers to take advantage of the special audio enhancements? I'm gonna scour through some mags and see if I can find some more stills to post.

I guess the Texas Ranger badge got me in the mood for a cowpoke...... more later, when i have some more revealing pics of him.

update: I put together 2 more pics and some video info on this cowpoke, Myles Longue (aka Ed Wiley).

wow! went to my post office box, and a whole lot of stuff there! this badge was in a whole box of stuff from a great pal in Kansas! More later after I make some more coffee and open all this stuff!

Miss me?

hehe.... sure ya did! nice week away, but glad to be back. Probably have an exciting night unpacking (mostly 1/2 price Chocolates from Fannie May I bought on the 26th), ordering pizza, and deciding exactly how I want to deal with not having cum for 7 days, 15 hours, and 18 minutes.....

this just in.... looks like I'm having Japanese with a good pal, so may have to postpone even longer dealing with the "not cumming" issue - think I can handle it, though...

so, I'm off to Chicago to celebrate Xmas with some very cool nieces and nephews, and brothers and sisters, and MOM ( who I know I'll be staying up late into the night with, gabbing and eating). Plus a nice Xmas eve with the extended family.

of course, you know that's me on the right (like I'd ever show my naked ass on the internet!)

oh yeah, another Xmas fave - this one from Jimmy Smith

i had the BEST day shooping at the Bronx Zoo!!! I actually think I bought too much, but that's cool - you can never have too many stuffed chirping birds , stretch snakes, organically grown Rainforest Coffee or Chunky Safari storybooks. And then just now picked up a few CD's at Virgin (30% off EVERYTHING with AMEX BLUE).

am i the only person having a frustratingly hard time with BLOGGER for the past 4-5 days???

oh yeah, for some PG fun, Meet Ray Harley

this little monster truck has been outside of my window for the past 2 days! This morning, it started at 7am, pushing dirt around. I know it's a good thing to be getting a city garden outside your window instead of that old parking light with car alarms in the middle of the night, but, gggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.........

........speaking of Bunny, I knew she sang, but never heard this - The Pussycat Song

there is a big noisy truck outside my window pushing dirt around the former parking lot soon-to-be-garden - OWWW!

had a great brunch (lunch for him, breakfast for me) with Andy - he's even more fun off the stage/ off the webpage! I'm still fighting this hangover, and am a bit tipsy, so I can hardly believe I was able to carry on a conversation (or maybe he was just being polite by laughing at my jokes? those were jokes he was laughing at........right?). And last night, Ms. Bunny didn't look quite as, um, airbrushed, as this palmcard promoting her new night at The Hole (is it called 1979, or Bunnyhole, I can't remember). But, it was so fun listening to her talk about old Pyramid Club days, and this new night (which appears to be rather cold - I couldnt quite figure out if they have no heat, or a broken airconditioner) - by the time I get back in town, it'll be THE place to go on Sunday nights. And then all this trashy talk about Lady Kier! We had no idea if she was pulling our leg, just exagerating for effect, or telling some really cool dirty stories about the "early days", but we ate it up like little kids!

Speaking of fun, have you checked out Shane's dirty art - either I hadn't been paying attention, or he recently added a LOT more great stuff!

ow
ow
OWWWWWWW. i am only waking up to take some much-needed aspirin (something I should have done hours ago) I left my cock/ball divider on all night, and ouch it was throbbing a few minutes ago, I couldn't unsnap the damn thing! who the fuck was I dreaming about........?

Merry Cockmas

all i can say (as I eat this really hot garlic salsa) is that you're lucky you're not in my refrigerator. You would be in my face, and down my throat so fast......... Lots of cute boys, Lady Bunny, my pal Jeff, and many. many beers tonight. Bunny was gracious, but didn't want any of my kitchen weed, saying she'd be too paranoid, as she reached into her bra, and then snorted something, We entertained ourselves by tieing some helium balloons to this guy who was passed out. Gosh, think I'll take these chips to bed with me.

is it too late to say Happy Birthday, Handsome?

I have about 50 hours to write an xmas list, and then buy all the stuff - luckily, I have few friends, and they all know I'm lazy, broke, and unemployed - so, really just family (3 nieces, 3 nephews). I have plans for brunch, but after that, I should run up to the Bronx Zoo to get some cool stuff for the kids - I haven't been there in over a year!

Tonight, The Cock is apparently celebrating it's 4th anniversary, and has an open bar for about an hour; might be fun; Monday night, I think Girlina is spinning (gosh, I would never know that sort of thing, except she was so nice to me a few months back). OOH, just talked to Jeffy, he's going, so we might meet up at The Phoneix first, then get to the Cock at 11:58 to take full advantage of that hour of free drinks. "Special Guests" are promised to be there - woo-hoo! Maybe I'll even bring some kitchen weed and celebrate that nice paycheck I got today.

fa la la la la.........

Watching Pee Wee's Christmas special is still hilarious 13 years later (sorry about the recent raid of your "vintage erotica" by the L.A. police (or was that the FBI?) - anyway, I went scrambling for Charo's version of Feliz Navidad, but could only find these two poor, but good in their own right, substitutes -

Feliz Navidad (is that the music from Public Image mixed in?)
Feliz Navidad

.........today, no (paid) work (you'd think 21 hours of painting, cleaning, etc wouldn't be all that bad, but my body aches soooooooo much) so today I clean my own apartment, ship some porno, decorate the tree, sort through some porn for selling in January (did I mention I got a new batch of cockrings? - will be selling after the 1st), finishing that porno tape for a fellow blogger, much coffee drinking, of course, and, thinking alot about this message from blogcrushboy: "c'mon on over and i'll let you work on mine!"

Feliz Naviblah

Merry Christmas, Darling

So, um, that's my skinny tree. In keeping with tradition, I waited until I had several beers in my belly before biking over to the tree stand on 14th and 1st. Interrupting this French guy talking to a homeless guy, he very quickly asked "Are you a buyer?" (no, I'm a seller, need some more trees?). When I showed him my $17.00 dollars, his smile faded quickly; I explained I always come to this lot, and get a tree for around 15 bucks - he sighs, says, "well, I dunno, let's look over here" ( they always walk me over to the ugly trees they set off to the side, I'm used to that) and he pulls out this stupid midget tree, with the 2 pieces of wood nailed in to the bottom (why the hell do they do that?). It just came past my knee in height, and I said "NO NO, this high" gesturing to the top of my head. "Oh, you think you can get a 4-foot tree with only 17 dollars?" the Frenchie asked into the air. "No, I'm a bit taller than 4 feet" "And you're sure you bought from this lot before? Maybe you should come back tomorrow"

Have you ever had a tree salesman NOT find a tree for you at 3 a.m.? Not me! And where was the white trash guy who's usually here at this hour, anyway? Shit, I remember paying that guy with a ten, a few singles, and a couple of subway tokens one year - grrrrrrrrrr. Hoping on the bike, heading home, I knew I could check out a few places on the way. Ahhhh, the lot across from The Cock. Our Lady of Perpetual Sinners or something like that was selling trees - yeah! I pull up, the guy smiles widely, asks "How Can I help you?" and I say "I want a big ass tree, this kind ( I point to one of those short-leaved ones), and I have 17 dollars" "Oh, well, I work for The Church of Perpetual Sinners (or something like that) and they've instructed me to make sure everyone walks away with a tree" - My kinda guy!

"Wanna take a walk through the forest?" Teetering a bit on the bike, I thought "what kinda pick-up line is that?" but aloud I merely said "huh?" - "Why don't you look through the trees, pick one out you like, and we'll take it from there" So, I pedal a few steps, pull out some nice-looking big-ass tree and I hear: "WHOAH WHOAH!! - er, I mean, you sure you like that one?" "What, don't you think it's nice-lookin'?" he agrees, but asks about the size of my............... apartment, I think, showing me skinnier, smaller trees. Chuckling, he pulls out this tree that you see pictured, and he assures me it won't take up too much space (I don't remember saying I didn't have much space, but, it's closing in on 4am, and I want a tree, goddamnit!) OK , cool, I relent ( I really do prefer the goofy-shaped ones anyway, but it's all part of the game of buying). He then gives it a "fresh cut" handing me the piece he just sawed off, insisting I sniff it, and take off my glove and feel how moist it is. I half-expected to have to swirl it in my mouth for a few moments before swallowing, but I made enough ooohs and ahhhhs to make him happy knowing I was happy.

Biking home, getting a few stares from other drunks (er, Happy Holiday Celebrating folks), I got into the apartment quickly, put my tree in the corner (knowing it would be too dangerous to try to set up the stand at that point) and began my late-night search for food. Hours later, I wake up, apartment smells great, remnants of food near my bed, and my head pounding, pounding pounding....... So, later, after the tree gets a chance to breathe, it'll get a ton of lights and ornaments I have collected over 19 Christmases in New York.

tired, but really want to go out for $1.00 draft beers - should I put on my Santa hat and go?

a couple tunes I dig this time of year
(from "a Reggae Christmas - an album my "80's boyfriend" gave me) -

Jingle Bells

Joy To The World

.........aren't you supposed to go shopping when you're down in the dumps? ("so, BJ, that's where you get your clothes!" - ba dum dum) ...............

I didn't know that skinheads wore thongs - - um, Shane, is this true?

OK, so maybe Earring Magic Ken is "gay interest"

but a 6 inch penis? "gay interest"? I DON'T THINK SO!

.......I need to get ready for work, but I had a troubling conversation with a very good friend last night. Without going into details, it was rather upsetting to me, because, after the fact, I realized I did what I had feared I might do regarding the 9/11 attacks - seeing any related stories in that cynical, jaded, over-it point of view which we all seem to do after seemingly too much exposure to anything.

Here it was about a tax-break one of the victims wives was advocating, and while I still have trouble with the particulars of that plan, my comments were more about her, and we got into a whole, awful argument about deserving, nondeserving, comparison of pain and loss, etc. What troubles me is that I went in the direction of thinking of her as just another political animal, like the big airlines that were ready with their hands out only hours after the attacks. Clearly, that is wrong-headed on my part. And while we all make mistakes, and beating myself up doesn't necessarily do much good, what really bothers me are the implications of this. If only 3 months after the attacks, someone who lives right here in NYC, who pledged to be "better" and "different" and more caring and all that crap, can't sustain that feeling, what is happening in the rest of the country, the world?

And I think that the way we express ourselves is very important, that we need to make distinctions between differences of opinions on ideas, and getting personal and second-guessing agendas and motivations. While I still feel it's reasonable to scream and name-call Saudi Arabia, American Airlines, this current government and the past few administrations, baggage-check companies, etc etc etc - that's a no-brainer - these folks didn't do what they should have done BEFORE these attacks, and in some way (and we can argue how much, but certainly there is blame here) their deriliction of duty made it easier for the "evil ones" to stage, and succeed, in this attack. And some of the victims are being used by these folks, and others, for their own agendas (i.e estate tax breaks up to $8.5 million seems excessive, but you know which political party wants to open the door here, and then expand it..), but we (I) need to be careful about name-calling the folks who took an unbearable loss, and are struggling with how to go on, how to "give meaning" to this, or honor thier loved ones, etc. It's easy to see a middle/ upper-middle class woman hobnob with Senators trying to get a tax break and then sneer, but how do we know that her intentions aren't more than self-aimed, that she may be aware of the inequities, and sees that while people ARE still paying attention, she needs to be out their, advocating for something that may well help others like her who can't be out there, or god-forbid, future victims of this "war" that takes only a few military casualties, and thousands of civilian ones.

..........okay, i'm getting really tired of these rotten, restless nights of NO SLEEP; from that solitary West Nile Virus mosquito buzzing around my head, to the creepy half awake/half asleep dreams, and me roaming around the apartment looking for something to make me sleepy.......... I need a volunteer, just for a few days, to come over, have hot sweaty sex, and cuddle up with me until you've seen me sleep for a minimum of 2 hours - then you can go home, and come back the next night................... anyone?

meanwhile, check out these great pics of a lovely snow-covered home (grrrrrrrrr, I'll keep my nasty envious comments to myself, it looks sooooooooo nice!)

man! it's cold out there!

after dinner, it's snuggling up on the couch, watching some Joe Gage porn, and whacking it 'til it fuckin' falls off!

Anyone want to explain to me why this is of "gay interest"?
or what makes this gay?

nice nuts

pretty good day today - got 15 porn packages shipped out (probably a record for me!) got a package from a great online pal, with these delcious cookies (pecanmeal as the secret ingredient - fuckin' amazing!), and some beautiful homegrown walnuts - whadya think? wonder how often someone tells her - "nice nuts"?

plus, got a rare, brief, live netmeeting glimpse of blogcrushboy (i think he came after like 5 seconds, then disconnected, oh well) - it's cold and rainy, finally feeling more like December in New York, so time to look through the xmas stuff, and it's SATURDAY NIGHT IN MANHATTAN - you know what that means!!!!!!!!!! PIZZA! yeah, two boots pizza - my usual: fresh garlic, sundried tomatoes, spinach, mushroom, and crawfish (see, sometimes it's really nice not to have to worry about what a boyfriend might think about your eating habits)

paycheck

another day working - painting, cleaning, hauling more garbage, BUT, got my first check - woohoo!!!! It's turned into more work than I had expected, which is good. Even better, she seems happy with my work, and raised my payrate that we had agreed upon a couple weeks back. So, a few more days, mostly painting, is great. Meanwhile, haven't had an on-line chat with blogcrushboy in days........ oops, was I supposed to stop (s)talking about him?

Porn-wise, I got a video called Tease Me which claimed it starred Casey Donovan and Val Martin (one of, if not the first, leather daddies) - fortunately, I figured it must have been a scene from a 1974 Wakefield Poole film called Moving, and not only was I right, but it has at least one more scene from the old film - (I only watched the Casey/Val poolside scene yesterday morning - quite "inspiring").

Another one of those restless nights - I keep waking up, roaming around the apartment, check e-mail, have something to drink from the fridge, wander back into the bed. Finally seemed to be in a good sleep, and had a dream. Fairly vague, of course, but some new bar, in a suburban bungalo-type house. It had a backroom in it's basement (surprised I dreamt about a bar with a backroom?) that you had to go outside to get to. And it was a fairly small one, with all the clutter of someone's overstuffed basement - broken chairs, strug-up Xmas lights that didn't quite work, etc. So, I have a beer upstairs, come outside, through a bit of snow to reach the basement/backroom, and am in there a bit, roaming around, and there are couplings and people standing, staring into space - but funny, nothing realy explicitly sexual, or at least I don't remember any body parts or actual sexual activity. So, as I am watching, my-most-recent Ex comes in, stands in the middle of the room, just sort of looks around for a few minutes, doesn't seem to see me, then leaves.

Just as in real life, in the dream my heart stops, and races, simultaneously. I can't decide what to do, so I let my legs do my thinking. They take me outside, where I quickly unlock my bike, hop on, and race in the direction I figure he must have gone, eventually getting to someone who turns out not to be him. Frustrated, I return to the bar (the upstairs BAR part of the bar) to have another beer, and feel foolish. I don't actually get a beer, cuz he's there - he's the bartender. Oddly, I don't see his face, I don't even look at him, I can just sense that it's him, and so I slowly move around the edges of the room, cat-like, deciding what to do. Soon I am outside, in the snow, thinking "he's the bartender at my new hangout! ferchrisskes, when will this end!!?" as I pace around in the snow, saddened, and frustrated.

A few minutes later, I am in the kitchen making coffee, sad, and thinking about the dream. I guess I should've known it was coming, I've spent most of the past 2 weeks in a pretty good mood, somehow putting aside my fears of going anywhere near an airport, and buying a ticket to see my family for Xmas, having a few days' worth of work to do, and other things that seem to have cheered me up. But, alas, my favorite Xmas was 3 years ago, with him. So, of course, how can I really get into this season without dipping into some of that emotion. We had gotten back together just after Thanksgiving, early December, and then decided to spend Xmas day together, him cooking a big meal, and all that. Meanwhile, I had gotten hit by a cab while riding my bike home from work - nothing too serious, just a fractured shoulder, arm in sling (yeah, wise guys, just the arm!). We even did shopping for the big meal together, me being completely useless, but having the time of my life, never having seen this side of him, this desire to make a big terrific meal. Some sort of old-fashioned stuffing for the turkey, tons of side dishes, etc. So, he carries 3 bags of stuff; and me just one bag on my one useful arm, on the subway. We wound up spending 3 nights in a row together, something we had never done, but it was easier for preparing for the big day together. He worked in retail, so worked Xmas eve, so I was home, under my lit-up Xmas tree ( I bought it the night before my accident, thank god!) and, with only one arm, I managed to make some great chocolate chip cookies (I don't even have a mixer, I just nestled the bowl in my lap, and did all the mixing, one-armed).

We met up early evening, me with my gifts, assigned last-minute kitchen stuff, and some tidbits of food, plus the cookies (well-hidden). See, we had developed this silly routine, where I would make cookies at home, and on a visit, I would hide a blue-lidded tupperware of them somewhere in his kitchen, and he would not find them til after I had left, sometimes, a day or two later. I'd get a phone call, maybe just an answering machine message, with him thanking me, usually with the sound of him eating a cookie while speaking. So, we had a nice Xmas Eve dinner, watched some t.v., had great sex, and fell asleep in each other's arms, me as high as a kite. During the night, I woke up, as I often do, did the bathroom thing, then went into my bag, and got out the cookies. I hadn't planned this, but it seemed silly enough, so....... I took out a small plate, put a couple cookies on it, and got a glass of milk. I drank most of the milk, and broke up one of the cookies to leave crumbs, leaving the dish and the glass on the dining room table, then went back to sleep. In the morning, he got up and out of bed before me, and I could hear him in the kitchen, getting the coffee ready. Suddenly, I hear him run into the bedroom, he grabs me, all smiley, and exclaims "Santa came! Santa came!"

I took the The Art Test thingee off the page, since it seems I am the last kid on my block to do it - I usually don't do these tests (ok, I did the animal one, and only posted it cuz I was an otter) - but it made me laugh, cuz not only do I love the pic ( an ex gave me this in a postcard, in fact) but the cool blogger who I found the test thru also was the same work of art!

so, i got out, had 2 beers, but not before blogcrushboy sends me 3, count-them-three!, pics! one, shirt with beautiful cock pointing right at me shot, next with great smile and (niece/nephew) on lap shot, then, a silly pulling-up-the-shirt-see-my-hairy-nipples shot! - cynical BJ would be thinking "awww crap, how can i go out and drink and try to pick up some guy after seeing such a cutie" ...........................but.................. I haven't seen cynical BJ in hours! so, instead, I just grinned while I sloshed down those 2 beers, one courtesy of a pal I hadn't seen in awhile. And my buddy asked me if I had my Xmas tree yet; then said he was just telling another guy of when he and I met 12-15 years ago, we did the old slurp-slurp, slosh-slosh at my place, and, "done" he asked "should I turn the Xmas tree lights out" as we began to snuggle up for some sleep - and I exclaimed "NO!, if I wake up in the middle of the night, I like to see the lights on!" - I'm such a kid, sometimes........

good day

ahhhhhh, good day working. I don't mean sitting on yer ass, making a few phonecalls, pushing some employees around, kissing your boss's ass, and deciding between saladbar or BurgerKing; I mean 9 hours of breaking your back carrying stinky garbage down a couple flights of stairs, painting walls several times with white paint and seeing that the blue walls are, um, still blue; scrubbing a toilet that won't quite come clean, and just before hopping on a subway train, grabbing a $3.00 Mango Mama that makes you feel sooo good, clicking on the discthing and realizing, again, that Exene is GOD.

2 from Old Wives' Tales:

Biggest Memory
Famous Barmaid

..............working today - EEEEEEGAD! and I woke up late!

a friend of mine swore she saw some leather pants in a trailer for Kansas City Trucking, and after a day of looking at way too much porn, I still had to see if she was right (yes, the shot of a guy unzipping leather pants is in the trailer, but I am pretty sure it got put in there by mistake). I was trying earlier today to update my Video Collection page, but I wound up totally fascinated by this guy in a 70's film called Anything Goes using an ACCU-JAC while lying on a water bed (I admit, I was getting a bit dizzy, and when he pulled out this skinny, long dildo........!) anyway, did you know you can get your old ACCU-JAC repaired??? I promise to try to get some screen captures from the film in the next day or two; but that machine really looks like it could be the answer to all my problems!

somebody was asking me about my video BJ GETS WET - like, "what's the plot?" um, er, I just , um, get wet, ya know?

ok, so I didn't go right to bed. damn! I watched an Al Parker movie, (well, not all of one, but enough - wink, wink) then some ice cream ( which I sprinkled bits of hello dollies on, which one reader wrote were suspiciously like these), then microwave popcorn - fortunately I was just dozing off before I could warm up some chili - and gosh do I have a junkfood hangover this morning - owwwwwwwwww!

must
not
think about blogcrush
must ignore another
2 hour fun on-line chat
and try to get some
sleep

but it's so cool to fall asleep smiling.........................

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.........late last night I managed to find a place to grab most of the songs from Bjork's Sept 5th concert here in NYC (the small one at Riverside Chapel, with about 100 of us in attendance); the downloading was erratic, so I "napped" on the couch right here, occasionally getting up to try to snatch more music; I only got about 5-6 full songs, but this morning, with more grim pictures on the news, I need more than ever to bury myself in that beautiful evening I had 3 months ago, when everything seemed so wonderful ...........

All Is Full of Love (9/5 live)

Pagan Poetry (9/5 live)

think I'll just listen to Bjork, and watch porno until all this stupid shit is over - I guess I'm never leaving this apartment......

Travessia


not sure why it never made it to RED HOT + RIO, the album she recorded it for (either she changed her mind, or they rejected it, depending on which source you believe); apparently, it's this song by Milton Nascimento that introduced Bjork to the work of arranger Eumir Deodato (do your own google search to check out his amazing career). Nonetheless, the translated-from-Portuguese lyrics should give you an idea why she picked the song in the first place.


When you went away
Night came into my life
I'm strong but I can't handle
Today i am gonna have to cry
My house isn't mine
Neither is the place i stand
I am lonely and don't exist
I have so much to say

I free my voice in the streets
I don't want to stop now
My path is made of stone
So how can I dream
Dream made of a breeze
Wind come and finish this
I'm going to end my sorrow
I want to take my life

I'm going through life
Letting you go
I don't want to die anymore
I have plenty to live for
I want to love again,
And if things don't work, I won't suffer
I don't dream anymore
These days I keep going only with my strength

First Avenue Bus

I don't take public transportation much, I prefer riding my bike around town, and even when working, for years I've managed to stay clear of the MTA. But when I need to go uptown on the eastside, I prefer to take the 1st Avenue bus, as opposed to the subway, because I like to look out the window, daydream, sort things out, remember stuff. The most common thoughts come from seeing the many hospitals on the route: Beth Israel, NYU Medical, Bellevue, etc.

On 16th street is Beth Israel, where Paul died many years ago. He lived right on 14th st, just off First, right across the street from where I get my Xmas tree. Paul was the first person I knew who took AZT, back when you had to take shitloads of the stuff; he was also the first friend who I thought "why him and not me, he's been a good guy, sweet, monogamous; I've been the slut, cheating, sleeping around". He had been in the hospital for awhile, and I was in one of my unemployed periods, so, while riding my bike, I thought I could stop by, mid-afternoon, and visit when no one else was around, just a nice, casual, unplanned visit. I had done it before, sometimes he'd be asleep, and I'd just watchover him, looking, hoping. Anyway, pulling my walkman off, I approach his room, and see his boyfriend, and a woman, in the room, Paul sleeping. the boyfriend spotted me, pulled me aside, quietly telling me that it was "that time" , Paul's sister was there, the rest of the family would be here soon - and would I tell the others, so they could say goodbye. Naively stunned, it was probably one of the few times I'd gone into a hospital and didn't think about death. I went home, and before calling my boyfriend, or the other friends I was assigned to tell, I sat on the couch, having put on The Buzzcock's I Believe, for no reason other than I had just seen them at a reunion gig. I don't think it was anything Paul liked, but it was a good blast-the-stereo-sing-and-scream song. I played it several times, screaming the lyrics "There is; no love; in this; world anymore" over and over, blasting it louder each time, trying to force myself to get the tears out of the way, so I could properly make my calls to my friends, and tell them Paul would soon be dead.

A few days later, we're sitting in Paul and Mark's apartment, discussing plans for the service - Lesbian Rabbi, Frank Zappa cassette (I was assigned that), a checklist of things to do, arrangements to be made. I was useless, not at all interacting, as everyone acted like it was just this thing that needed to get done, and I felt the room get smaller and smaller, and the fact that no one was SCREAMING was making me more and more insular, and angry. We certainly didn't discuss our feelings, our loss, our anger, nothing. I know, I guess it's pretty obvious that you can assume all that, afterall, we're friends; but I just felt this huge gap between myself and the rest of the world, I wanted to explode, and instead I am dutifully jotting down a few notes of the tunes to record. When the service was over, and everyone was leaving, and just the boombox was up there, Frank Zappa noises screaching out, I began to realize why we had all just gone through the motions - it was too scarey to articulate what we were really thinking, looking around this room, or the livingroom a few nights earlier, "who's next?"

Bellevue is up around 27th and First; Rick was there only a short while. He hated the place, probably because it was a Public Hospital, and he had "issues" with stuff like that. Each person who came into the room commented on the great view he had of the East River, and he grimaced each time he heard it. Each time I'd come, I'd be taking cans of Ensure out of a bag, trying to find a place for them, encouraging him to drink them, like he was a little kid who needed coaxing. His sister had moved in with him, to help take care of him. He had bought a "fixer-upper" apartment (we all wondered how he lived there so long without a toilet......), and soon his parents were in town, finishing up his apartment, buying a refrigerator, carpeting, comfy easy chair, all this nice shit, so that whatever time he had left, he would be comfortable. Eventually Rick was in St Vincent's in the Village, and one evening, just the two of us, we had a talk about how sorry we were that we had that stupid fight the previous summer about welfare, and poor people, not speaking for months, and all the time we lost. Rick didn't express his feelings often, and it all poured out, each of us challenging the other "no no, I was the idiot, I'm sorry" and we laughed, and cried, and hugged, something we had never done before. This was the roughest; he was the closest friend who had gotten sick, and we were panicked, not knowing what the hell to do for him, but his folks were great, sweet people. I can even remember the outfit Rick would wear to WonderBar on Wednesdays for the cheap beer/backroom. This dingy knit cap, dingy yellowish t-shirt, his "grunge" look. And I remember when he and Mark quit drinking, occasionally going to those meetings, and talking about the cute guys afterwards, and our replacement activity: Scrabble. We'd just listen to music, and play Scrabble late into the night - I still can't listen to the Cranberries since then, Mark and Rick would do this stupid sing-along during the chorus of Linger, simulatameously irritating the crap out of me, and making me laugh my ass off - and now it's the quickest way to get me to cry, playing that song. But then, one Saturday at work, I got the call. "Come to the hospital, Rick wants to say goodbye." Apparently, he had had enough, too much time in the hospital, not getting better, feeling like crap, he wanted to go home to his parents house, and just see what would happen. We all knew what would happen, of course. The doctor's told him explicity that he was unlikely to survive the drive. I got there, got out of the cab, and standing there, on the corner, was David Byrne and a small child, who got into my cab. I have no idea why that sticks out, but I got into the hospital, found Mark, Rick's best friend, and we stood at the elevator for a minute or two, looked at each other, and ran to the stairs. Just as we began to go up, I stopped him, and said "I need one minute, one minute to be ready to pretend I'm not totally against this, and angry as hell at him for quitting, and giving up, and not trying hard enough; we have to go in there and tell him that whatever he decides is the right decision, and it's cool with us". We got upstairs, and of course, several friends, the whole family, our good friend Larry, the social worker. We had to take turns. In the waiting room was his father, stoic all this long time of trying his best to do whatever needed to be done; his eyes full, he very quietly said "I can't believe I'm letting my son do this, it's the wrong decision, but what can I do, it's his life, and it must be awful for him."

They got an ambulance to take him from Manhattan to Rhode Island; the next morning his sister called, he made it home, he died in his bed, the bedroom he grew up in, it was peaceful, he was happy to be home.

Alden wasn't really a friend of mine, but we had that Act-Up connection, having done several "actions" together, particularly on Day of Desperation (just as the Gulf War started). I actually fucked something up on our banner over the FDR Drive that Alden had to fix, and then he got stopped by the cops. Oh yeah, and he had an affair with my boyfriend. Even friends of mine said I couldn't blame Jim, after all Alden was that cool Act-Upper who always knew what to say, what to do (and it was true, he was amazing). Anyway, here I am, standing out in front of NYU Medical (in the 30's somewhere?) talking to Jim, who I had just spent part of the day with, and I hand him a tupperware container of oatmeal cookies, thinking maybe Alden could eat them, I didn't really know. While they weren't "dating" any longer, they had become very close, and when he got sick, Jim did everything and anything he could for him. He went to the hospital all the time, did errands, took care of stuff. Here he is, taking care of an ex, someone he dated while he was seeing me, really weird, but this was not the time to worry about my own discomfort, of course. I don't remember how long he was in the hospital, but sometime after he got out, Jim called me in a panic. He hadn't heard from Alden in a day or two, no answer at his apartment, on his phone; totally unusual for him. We called the police, and our fears were proven right when we got into the apartment - he had passed away, alone, at home, watching t.v. There was the memorial through the streets of the East Village, very loud, very angry, very disturbing having his face on these huge placards; of course, this time, I wasn't chanting loud, or holding a placard, just quietly walking with the crowd, lost in my own thoughts - the image of that very strong man naked on the floor, frail, dead. The next few days, weeks, were tough; Jim was very depressed, and unable to talk to me. But he had other friends, friends who were closer to Alden like he was, friends he could talk to, and cry with. Sometimes I would be making something for dinner, and he'd be on the phone, crying, and I knew that it was good, at least he had someone he was comfortable sharing this with. I just made sure Jim ate, and had my warm body to sleep with, and just made sure I was available, not being able to take the pain away, but just in case, just in case I could say, or do something....

Up on 66th st, just east of First Avenue is the church where they had the funeral for Paul (a diferent Paul from the other pal above). Paul worked for MTV, and when he got sick, he managed some disability arrangement that helped him live in Brazil for awhile. Paul was the guy who I invented the "east Village handshake" with - no one really remembers it, cuz it was just a little inside joke for a few of us, basically you went up to your buddy and just stuck your hand in his crotch - obviously we thought of it at one of the many drunken parties Mark and I had on Norfolk St. Not sure when Paul got back to the States, but when he died, his family came here, and had the funeral at this little church on the upper east side. I remember everyone in the family had little red ribbons on. This was the first time I had seen them and didn't snear - all us cocky Act-Uppers thought it was just some trendy Hollywood fashion thing "look, look, I'm concerned" - but here was his family, in a not very supportive Catholic Church, making sure it was clear their son had died of AIDS. They talked about it from the pulpit, that while they were robbed of their son, he had had a good life, good friends, etc. They took genuine interest in meeting us all. Several of us went out together, to some pub restaurant nearby. Very odd, but somehow fitting, to be in this Irish saloon , on the day of a friend's funeral, drinking beer in the middle of the day, telling stories.

I think about stuff like that when I'm on this bus, going uptown, the bus stopping to let some old folks off, or taking forever while a wheelchair unloads, the rest of the bus riders clearly irritated by these delays; ah, if only it was a matter of a brief inconvenience, eh?

Remember the dead, and fight like hell for the living.

I'm sure you'll be hearing the original plenty, but I love these other versions, too -

My Sweet Lord - Hare Krishna, indeed

My Sweet Lord - gospel house mix?

My Sweet Lord - boyish mix

My Sweet Lord - live for Bangladesh, sounding great 30 years later, man

Bangla Desh
"My friend came to me, with sadness in his eyes
He told me that he wanted help
Before his country dies

Although I couldn't feel the pain, I knew I had to try
Now I'm asking all of you
To help us save some lives"

(feel free to insert the needy country of your choice during the refrain)

tuesday's date

do I start with the "he's a nice guy, but" routine? or just the facts? ok, let's try a factual account: He gets here around 10:50 (not that I was watching the clock or anything..) and has a bag with 2 beers, which is cool, cuz I'm not (usually) big on drinking alot with a stranger, especially on a sexdate ( I prefer drinking to excess in a public place, where I can yell obnoxious things at pals randomly, but I digress..). Still looking handsome, and still very tall, very shaved-headed. I get on my tiptoes to kiss him, we do the beer thing, sit on the couch, and start to talk about nothing in particular (AOL chatrooms, computer games, the funny coincidence that I saw the "forceable massage" Seinfeld episode only hours earlier, and this guy is a masseuse (messieur? massage guy? whatever)). Soon some light touching, occasional kissing peppered in the conversation, nice and slow, feeling rather natural and relaxed.

Kissing gets heavier, and although he mentioned he doesn't do massages on "tricks" his hands are firm, and strong, and kneading various parts of my appreciative body. It's all very affectionate, just what I've been missing, and yearning for. And smiles; he has a great face, and it was nice to stop, and just look, grin just a bit, see his grin widen as he eyes my face, grabs, pulls, and strokes my body..... At some point I am naked, totally naked, and he still has his clothes on; I pull his shirt off, feeling a bit exposed; we slobber on each other's body parts, but in a slow, caressing manner, not forced, not in a hurry. Several times he said really sweet things about me, or a body part, that he liked. But somehow, even after stuffing his thick thing down my face for awhile (balls were way too big for my mouth, which normally would be swallowing them), neither of us stayed hard for very long at all.....

We continued for quite awhile, over 2 hours, in fact, of carressing, kissing, slurping, even snuggling. It almost had the feel of being boyfriends who no longer had the need to impress, get the job done, but actually of just enjoying the touching, the grabbing, the smooching...... eventually, without saying anything explicit, we both sort of stopped the heavy petting, etc, and began to talk a bit, again about nothing in particular, just conversation, and when we realized it was after 1:30 a.m., he said he ought to go. I didn't offer for him to stay, not out of the fear of rejection, but more in the needing/wanting time to myself before bed; as he dressed, he said he had fun "playing" - gosh, i hate that word, I know i'm an idiot who's hung up too often on language, but it just makes me think of kids games, and goddamn! this is serious stuff! (hehe) - and as we stood by the door, a few more kisses, he said he'd like to do it again, I nodded in agreement, but already knew that I wouldn't. I can't explain why, other than I just wasn't "grabbed" by him, although i liked him, and liked our evening together. Just nothing made me want to do it, or something like it, again. So, I shut the door, pop the popcorn in the microwave, spoon out some ice cream, and head for the TV, and a game of MARBLES on the computer.

.......head........still........aching
where.....did.....that.......scratch come from?......
ooh, nice email from one of my blogcrushes - this one's not married, just several thousand miles away, but still, I can dream, can't I?

oooh, I remember at one point, sometime after a pal had bought me my FIFTH beer - crossing 2nd ave with some guy, seeing another pal I hadn't seen in over a month get out of a cab, calling to me - and I yell back - "EXCUSE ME, I'M TRYING TO PICK UP THIS GUY, SHEEESHH!" - and I order the guy onto the back of my bike, and rode home

sheesshhhhhh! "what about the date, what about the date?" - so, my ramblings about porno, disco, and cookies ain't as interesting as me describing how some guy's cock is almost too thick for me to get in my..... okay, I just kicked out last night's more "impromptu" date, and the coffee is starting to sink in (mxing in with several Rolling Rocks)..... give me a few to get my bearings, and I'll try to remember what happened Tuesday night.

avi vs. mov file

I'm struggling with a few short porno movie trailer clips I have, and they are in "avi" form; if anyone out there knows how to transfer to an "mov" file (if that can be done without spending any money) or even if it's worth the trouble, any help is appreciated. Also, I need help to see how the file(s) look; so anyone who is willing to look at a trailer or two, tell me how fast it loaded, etc., that would be most appreciated.

cookies yes, cool overcast days make me wanna bake, and a batch of GINGER SNAPS are already done; next: "HELLO DOLLIES" - yup, sounds pretty faggy, but it's my grandma's recipe for these delicious squares - chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, pecans, graham cracker, coconut......

any local boys are invited to come over and sample my goodies!

BETA HELP

........ I realize I shouldn't be writing anything since I havent had any coffee yet, but today being all cold and wet, looks like I might spend even more time than usual at this keyboard, on this page, with little tidbits of info, and PLEAS FOR HELP of various sorts.

#1) I need access to a BETA video player, so that I can make a VHS COPY of a porn tape I just bought. It's a hard-to-come-by film, featuring AL PARKER, so I bought it on eBay thinking it might be in good shape, and possible include some cool porno movie trailers. Anyone in NYC who can help (if you have a set-up of both BETA and VHS, that's ideal; but I could drag my vcr over, with the appropriate connections, if necessary) So, e-mail me if you think you can help, I will be ever so grateful (gosh, too many Simpsons episodes!)

Don't know if this qualifies, 'cuz I love it, and I luv what it reminds me of; but I'm sure enough of you prefer the original ........ I hope none of you think A Whiter Shade Of Pale is an Annie Lennox song; naw, we need to go back, way back..... (oops, sorry, wrong reference)...anyway, it was a Procol Harum song, but you knew that. I know it better as the theme song from William Higgins' classic The Boys of Venice, performed by Munich Machine. Yup, another one of those porno theatre memories. While you listen, picture blonde long-haired skinny guys on the boardwalk of Venice, California, and Eric Ryan on roller skates (skates, not blades - it's 1981), bumping into Derrick Stanton, knocking him over and injuring him. So they hobble over to Derrick's new apartment, and have a look at the injured leg. Eric decides that a massage is in order, and guess what? Disco music starts playing, and they have sex in the bathroom, all the while the skates are on.

This was Higgins' first big hit, and many of his later films had "original" songs like Brothers Should Do It , Members Only, and of course, These Bases Are Loaded. This one is another of those "wish I could figure out who all the songs are by" porno videos - but, alas, most of my pals wouldn't be able to help me (either not old enough, or not into disco). And the disco dance-floor fantasy scene at the end with Kip Noll and Emanuelle Bravos is soooooooooooo much fun!

I made an avi file of part of it, but it's like 10MB's, so I couldn't figure out how to post it properly (but I can always email it to interested nice boys). Anyone who has a copy of the video and can let me know the other songs, it would be greatly appreciated. (Or some sort of arrangement with me sending you a copy...) Especially the one that's playing when Kip and Emanuelle meet on the dance floor, it's fantastic!

............no really, not nervous at all. It's only been 2-1/2 weeks since any sort of interest in my body has been paid, and that was a "partnered" guy who just got too excited modeling some cockrings for me........(those married guys sure know how to cum fast, and LEAVE fast!). Before that, gosh, a groping in the Cock's back room? Does it count if it was just my beer bottle? (I really gotta stop standing around with my thumb hooked in my pants pocket, holding my beer) Anyway, I've got a whole 4 hours to make myself presentable, without looking like I made any effort. I almost forgot, this guy's cock is really huge, like "ow! my petite mouth can't take any more!" huge - He works til 10, then will come by around 10:30, says he'll bring beer. So, does this count as a real date? Who cares, right? Trouble is, I really dig his face, and if the night goes well, I might wind up, like um, liking him....... hmmph.

Bjork Remix Web is a fantastic site, where "amateur" remixers get a chance to show the world their BJORK remixes - there's a lot to sift thru to find the really good stuff (Joga alone has 56 remixes!), but if you're anything like me, sometimes, like last night, when you can't sleep at 5 a.m. and CNN just doesn't do the trick, finding a cool song like Jólasveinar (Christmas Men) is worth the time. The remixer took a song Bjork recorded in 1977 (when she was 11 and doing a children's TV special, I think) and gave it this very cool, haunting sound - perfect for you folks who like making off-beat Christmas mixed-tapes (er, this is 2001, so I guess discs)! A couple of nice guys have emailed/mentioned recently they liked the inclusion of Bjork songs here - some I post are "official" (like the acapella HIDDEN PLACE) and some are not (like the Pagan Poetry dance mix), but the remix site is pretty much winked at by Bjork and her record company, cuz they realize it's great publicity for her. Don't be shy, if downloading is a pain in the ass for you, and you'd rather, I can always e-mail you a song or two.... And the Bravo special was great (except for way too many commercials) - the opening 60 seconds was the best, a slowed-down version of Hyperballad played, with some sweeping landscape shots of Iceland, which eventually zoomed in on Bjork, all in white, on this amazing field of ice!

...............um, looks like I have a (sex)date Tuesday night. SHIT! Only 23 hours to get this place, and myself, looking good. He's really tall, and, well, still nicely "proprotionate" from what I remember from when we first met over a year ago. I guess the good news is that it must've been alright the first time around, since he wants to do it again. Of course, I am so pessimistic, I'll be spending the next 23 hours thinking about how it could go badly......

see what I mean? Jack is supposed to be a sleazebag, having sex anytime, anywhere, with anyone, but he's licking the guy's fingers!
A-F-F-E-C-T-I-O-N

IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

.......in case you forgot to set your VCR this morning (like me) to tape Bravo Profiles (BJORK), and are not near your tv/vcr now (but I am), they are re-running a 3rd time at 5 a.m. thier 1998 Profile.

old not-so-horny fag

sure, I went out, had 2 beers in the space of 90 minutes, 2 bars, and even took my glasses off for awhile in the hopes that if I just lowered my standards...........

but, at least for the time being, I need to accept that I really don't enjoy the whole drunkard-groping-your-beer-bottle-thinking-its-your-cock thing. The one guy I attempted something with was barely paying attention, his head turning back and forth so much, looking around the room. I did my old random number thing - I counted down, and if he didn't pay adequate attention to me, I was outta there (not that he noticed me walking away). Too drunk, too drugged-up, what did I expect? And worse, the music totally sucked! "Everybody Dance Now"? Good lord! So, I tried The Phoenix, but no one goes there on Sundays, faking interest in the jukebox while my cranberry juice was gone in two swigs. Back to The Cock, the music getting worse, the boys looking uglier, and acting stupider, and the pints of Haagen Das in my freezer beckoning me......I was home by 2.

Seriously, I am completely in envy of this - sitting around in boxers and t-shirt having breakfast with the in-laws - oh yeah! Crap, ever need a stand-in? I'm really a lovely young, er, lovely man when it comes to relatives.....

back to sex..... I know on the one had I shouldn't have any expectations of anonymous sex, or meeting guys in bars, but there is a difference between Jeff Stryker sex, and Al Parker sex - affection. You can, and I have had, sex where you are actually looking at your partner, using your hands and lips in all the right places; you know pushing your face into his neck, gently kissing that spot just above the waist on the side, whispering barely audible oohs and ahhhs, massaging his calves while you flick your tongue on his balls.....

old fag or horny fag?

A little past midnight, do I stay home and watch this Liz Taylor/Warren Beatty movie on AMC, or go out and look for meaningless sex?

ZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz
cleaning house, which is good, but nothing to write home about. but, the good news, is that I am finally feeling horny again, so maybe I will get out of the house later...... then again, there's plenty of Haagen Das in the fridge.......

and yes, still posting auctions. 2 with Jack Wrangler - this pic is from around 1974, and as much as I love Jack, I'm glad he eventually learned to go a little lighter on the mascara!

I must say, he really is the best masturbator; I mean, I was watching that one scene from Kansas City Trucking where he's all alone, and the sounds of the highway give it this trippy feel, with the headlights occasionally flashing, and he is just whacking that mighty meat - obviously, having a great cock like his helps, but he really loves showing it off, takes great pride and pleasure in it, and does that one-hand-on-the-balls, the other slamming up and down on the shaft thing...... Of course, my other fave, Al Parker, is the quintessential cocksucker. Ever see him in Turned On, where he's persuing Sky Dawson? Holy shit, his beautiful face, that beard, and his alternating gentle slurps and deep gulps, the way he waits for the cum to splash across his whiskers, not gobbling it up, but first slowly licking his own face, then diving back in just under his partner's balls, and a few more slurps on the last drops falling ..... what a man! I feel I've learned important things from both these men....... (hmmm, is this my belated Thanksgiving blog?)

that's okay, honey, I'll make the coffee

that's what I said to my imaginery boyfriend a few minutes ago, as I got up to make coffee. I'll probably crawl back into bed with him soon, it's very cold in the apartment, and the heat isn't on. It's a rainy day, which is cool, cuz I hope to straighten up around here, ship out some porn, list some more porn on eBay, maybe even dive into the "personal" video tapes and make some still shots to post on the "audition" page - I think there are 2 guys I haven't yet revealed to the world. And I also want to work on this movie trailer clip I have, that I've uploaded to my site, but from the 2 folks who've tested it for me, it takes nearly 2 hours to download (they have dial-up connections) and the trailer is less than 2 minutes! - anyone out there have any ideas how I can speed that up? It's an "avi" file - is there something I can do?

Sigur Ros disc just started, so time for more coffee, and getting under the covers........

soooooo tired, soooooo achey. that apt cleaning job Wednesday really wrecked me. I need to go back up there today, ugh. I mean, its decent work, but I hate going uptown, and it took me ALL day yesterday to get rid of the stench that was stuck to my body - several different kinds of baths - baking soda, that peppermint "natural" stuff - I came so close to just pouring bleach all over my body. My boots are still on the fire escape, I'm rather afraid to see what the story is with them. I just stayed here most of the day, trying to get my body back to it's normal, natural aroma - hehe.

Last night the phone rang around 8pm, I let the machine pick up. It was this guy I ran into on the street about 2-3 weeks ago. We had an "AOL date" maybe a year earlier, and so we chatted for awhile on the street, then he took my phone number. I didn't recognize the voice, so I didn't pick up. After replaying the message twice, I realized who it was, but I felt too insecure at that point about my body odor, so I didn't call back. Maybe I'll call tonight, his message sort of left it at "if you're in town this weekend, would be great, been meaning to call you" - so, I suppose I should call him after work, if I don't get all stunk up again!

a pal of mine who works for RED HOT sent me this Amazon link - apparently RED HOT'S tribute to DUKE ELLINGTON is super-cheap over there, so if you're already an amazon shopper (or even if you're not) at 5.99 plus shipping, why not grab a few copies of RED HOT + INDIGO! as a stocking stuffer - hell, send me one!

............can't decide if I should write about my aching body - from 11 hours of hauling stinking garbage out of an apartment (not my own!); or how I had a morning hard-on when I woke up, the first one in weeks - but, um, that was it, I looked down in surprise at the almost-stranger, and made some coffee and checked my email. Goddamn I'm boring!

Happy Birthday, Bjork!

here's a pretty decent, unofficial remix of Pagan Poetry

and don't forget, BRAVO PROFILES is re-running it's show on Bjork from back in 1999 - 3 times on Monday - 6am, 2pm, and 5am (technically Tuesday, then , eh?). It's primarily focused on the making of Homogenic, and has some great footage of Bjork running around Iceland!

one pal of mine couldn't bare listening to it, but I thought it was sooooooo funny; don't really know the sourse, probably some English sit-com, but on with the BJORK BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION, here's Short Term Affair.

I know, I know, you're thinking - "but Bjork's 36th birthday isn't until tomorrow" - and of course, if you knew that, you certainly already have the Acapella Version of Hidden Place; but just in case you don't, take a listen - it's wonderful! I'll look for some others for tonight/tomorrow, of course!

Jack Wrangler

Been keeping myself busy watching/reviewing/auctioning more porn - this is from a favorite, Gemini, and since I just got a second copy, I'm about to auction it on eBay. Jack Wrangler actually approached director Steve Scott with this idea of an All About Eve split-personality like character, but Steve thought 2 was all Jack, and any porn flick, could handle. So, Jack plays the role of a nice guy with new nice guy lover, as well as this "bad" personality who goes around having sleazy sex in backalleys with Richard Locke while Pink Floyd plays. He also is sandwiched between 2 guys in a pool-table fuck, as well as a contruction-worker worship scene (more Pink Floyd), and a great men's restroom/gloryhole scene. Eventually, when the lover discovers Jack's horrible problem, he commits him to a hospital for treatment.

hmmmmm. well, yesterday, another feeble attempt at getting sex. I should've known when he kept yapping on the phone about anything and everything, after we agreed I'd be at his place in just 2 hours, that I should've backed out. But, I figured that I am so disagreeable and unadventurous lately, that I should really take advantage of the only sex-invite I've had in a long while (last Saturday's photo-shoot fluff/blowjob doesn't count). His place was a mess - newspapers, magazines, dogtoys, pots and pans (not dirty, just dusty) everywhere. And the dog, as sweet as she was, really required a lot of attention. Then, at one point, we are sitting on the bed, and the dog (female) comes over and starts humping my host's leg! But it got worse - he started egging the dog on, with all sorts of sex-talk "Oh yeah, you're the best, c'mon, fuck me stud!" and shit like that! Seeing my jaw on the floor, he tried to laugh it off, shook off the disappointed dog, and tried to return his attentions to me. I tried to make conversation, not quite ready to leave, but not ready to get all snuggly with him (his leg was probably still wet). He did the half-way massage thing, and I started getting sleepy. Then he took the dog out for a pee, and put some music on. Which at first was cool, but by the time he came back, the music was that Enya song that is the background for that WTC memorial website that I watched last Sunday morning and balled like a baby for 20 minutes, so I started to get all insular and quiet. We tried the hugging, light kissing thing, which was good, he has a nice body, nice head, stubbly goatee, all salt-and-pepper; but the music went into this Henry Mancini movie soundtrack thing which is really just elevator music that you might know the name of.... we retreated to the bedroom again, but I just couldn't get it up, and once he had me completely naked, I knew it was useless.

He lit up a joint, and while I usually don't like to smoke with strangers, I hoped it would relax me. Well, it did, but in that listless, "sure, do what you want, let me know when it's over and point me to the fridge" way. And after awhile, when he kept moving around, and switching positions, I got suspicious that he was on one of those Chelsea Boy drugs that goes by some letter of the alphabet. Ugh. You know, he takes a few licks, you groan, he moves on to something else, his elbow jabbing in your side, he moves again, sticking some body part in your face, you try to make "slurpy I'm into this" noises, and then just when you 're in a groove, he's gone, disappeared to change the lighting or temperature. Ice cream. It's Saturday Night, shouldn't I be having pizza? Wonder if I have the fixings for brownies at home? Ok, I'm gone, and there's no hope of getting me back. Eventually he senses this, and says "if you need to go home, it's cool" but it takes me the longest while to leave, I'm such a guilt-ridden wimp, I think I have to make sure he cums first. UGH. I mean, I love seeing a guy cum, I love making a guy cum, but again, it took awhile. He could tell I was willing to wait til he came, so he postioned me for the manner that would get him off, and then the noises! I mean, I loves grunts and groans and all that, but this was real loud, and was like something from Hanna Barbera! I kept looking down at him, expecting to see Elmer Fudd and the Tazmanian Devil; and the dog looked real worried, she kept looking at me with these "what the FUCK are you doing to him" eyes! He came, but then started the zone-out post-cum phase, so I got up and tried to find my clothes.

On my bike, discman blasting tunes from BeautifulGarbage, I started to think about what to have for dinner, and as soon as I walked in the door, made some food while spreading the take-out menus on the couch. Then I was a slug on the couch for the rest of the night, disappointed again, knowing that I'm just not cut out for this - I'm really good at the post 3-month thing: once we're dating that long, and I'm secure, I make dinner for you, I'm really great in bed, I'm sailing! But this interveiwing thing is for the dogs, really...............

WEINERS!

ok, we have 2 winners - each guessed 4 correctly, both having gotten the 3 listed below, plus

P (duck vamps) also guessed "cabaret"; then added "That's all I can see what with that huge cock in the way."

Casey guessed "his unit is dangling in front of 'Annie'.", then went on to add "the lower right (mostly offscreen) could be Cabaret. Or The Rocky Horror Show. Or any number of other musicals where someone is made up in lots of lipliner. I'm making things up now, time to quit."


so, I just need to get addresses from the boys, and they'll get their prize.

Thanks to all who entered; I found the whole thing to be very very funny, since invariablye everyone claimed to know nothing about Theatre - me, I barely got Superstar!

I promise, if and when I do another contest, it'll be about porn - I certainly have a lot more knowledge there, and who knows, maybe I can use it as an excuse to make folks search through my pornology pages!

sorry about the delay - I'd love to be able to tell you I was out last night, doing all sorts of unspeakable things, but, alas, I was on a very long phone call with mom, then, well, I passed out on the couch.

contest

ok, the following "RUNNERS UP" (or is that runner ups?) correctly guessed:

Jesus Christ Superstar

Filumena

A Murder is announced

• Mr. Hammer
  
• Tom from Köln
  
• Sparky
  
  

what're u lookin' at?

so I shave my ears, so what?

working on the list of losers, er, runners-up, for the contest - do I have to do links and all that?

contest update

got a bunch of entries (entrances?)..... anyway, a bunch got 3 correct answers, but I have to double check the few who ventured 4, 5, and 6 guesses, and will post the winner late tonight. Yup, Friday night, single, in Manhattan, and I'll be busy verifying, then posting, the winner of the theatre poster - cockring contest. One guy, well, his entry was so funny (but quite wrong) I may have to post that, as well.

i think I am supposed to be going uptown (again) in about 20 minutes - ugh. and I really wanted to watch Gemini a fantastic Steve Scott film from 1979 with Jack Wrangler - he's a split-personality, who just got a new boyfreind, but his other personality has all the sleazy sex, like the opening back-alley blowjob of Richard Locke while Pink Floyd's Careful With That Axe, Eugene plays. Quite wonderful, and it's my second copy, so I may be selling it on eBay soon.

so, as I am getting near the bottom of the bag of porn I purchased on Sunday ( 35 videos, 5 mags), I find that someone tossed in this flyer - hmmmm. "Fits any penis size" - HEY! what the hell are they trying to say?



meanwhile...........

BOYS I WANNA PLUG

bill - sharing the same name as my most-recent-Ex, normally that would turn me off, but he is a fellow ex-Chicagoan, and the not-so-secret porno stash IS rather extensive

pottymouth if you are local - it's only 5 bucks, this friday, Lower East Side - DO IT!

adam - one of the few bloggers who was not (yet) banned me from posting comments on his page - some really great photography, and very helpful on my webnerd questions.

wait, I mean, "plug" like promote, right?

such a pretty city

I'm watching Law and Order, and I have further proof I'm a BIG FAG when:

1) I wished I had taped the show, after realizing how many potential male suspects are dressed in blue collar uniforms

2) I squeal when I realize the eventual female suspect is Diana Scarwid, who played Christine Crawford in Mommie Dearest (not to mention starring in Strange Invaders, as well).

Speaking of televsion, the lovely gentleman pictured here is known to me and other porno fans as Wade Nichols star of Boy-Napped, and apparently some str8 porn, as well (which I wouldn't know anyting about). But to others, he's known as Dennis Parker, star in a daytime soap, The Edge of Night, and also had a disco "hit" of sorts, called NEW YORK BY NIGHT which has made me laugh so hard all week - my favorite lyrics -

on 42nd street
X-rated is the beat
see some skin up on the silver screen
at 53rd and 3rd
a dollar is the word
turn that trick, you better hurry kid

ok, a whole 30 hours in this thing, and while I feel a bit like stupid sexy flanders, I swear, I still don't see a need to change. I mean, it's not like I work, or have a boyfriend, or even any sort of potential ex-boyfriend on the horizon, I needn't worry about impressing anyone, I just need to be comfortable.......and with 2 hours of decent tv on tonight to look forward to (yeah, West Wing finally won me over, since it's a decent warm-up before Law and Order). ooooooooh, Malcolm just shot up a million points, playing one of my fave Elvis songs: Pump it Up.

where was I? oh yeah, last time I had "sex" it was Saturday, which shouldn't seem like so long ago, except it was "i'm done so I'm leaving now" sex - you know, the guy has a boyfriend, came over so I could take pics of a few cockrings on him, and well, I guess I decided he needed fluffing..... well, it's getting a bit boring. Sunday night I returned to the Cock, after skipping it for the previous 2 Sunday Nights, and well, with one pal kneeling in the southeast corner, and another one playing peak-a-boo with a group in the northwest corner, I just couldn't find a decent spot to, well, and some guy kept grabbing my beer bottle - I mean, it's cold, wet, hard, and has a long-neck, are you really that drunk you can't tell the difference? And then in the main room, a former roommate, drunk - you know "I'm gonna yell, and stand right next to your ear, and tell you the same 2 stupid stories over and over again" drunk - complaining how being on probation for having the cops find cocaine on him is really putting a damper on his life - ugh - like he needs to get higher.
Me, I think a pizza is in order. I think I have a few beers in the fridge, and while I rarely drink at home, and even more rarely alone, what the hell? It'll keep me home tonight, Last Wednesday I tried $1.00 beer night, but watching a pal hit on one guy, chat for awhile, move on to the next, and me not getting a single smile from anyone, well, not in the mood for a repeat. ok, pizza's ordered. maybe some dope. I haven't had a serious smoke dope, eat everything in sight, download all sorts of shit from audiogalaxy, porn-watching binge in awhile........

well, still havent taken the union suit off - lets see if I get too sweaty running around town today doing errands - a bunch of packages for the post office - 4 various porno-related items, one Frampton poster (dont ask, but yes, I agree, that's obscene!). HMV to see if the bjork dvd-single is there, bank for deposting money (yeah, 28 dollars - woo-hoo!)

oh yeah, and thanks to all you folks who sent in entries for the cockring contest, er Theatre Poster contest; a few of them had me on the floor laughing "I don't know much about Theatre, but the font on the top left hand corner was only used from 1974-76 for Joan Plowright productions, and she only worked with John so-and-so.........." anyway, I'll be checking them all and posting the winner (if he doesnt mind) Friday night/early Sat morning. I guess I should make it official, entries must be sent by noonish Friday ....blah blah

gosh, I don't think I will ever take this thing off, all-cotton, comfy, perfect for stuffing my face and watching porn all day.............but..........does it make my skin look blue?

if you really love me, you'll buy me this

CONTEST

hmmm, not sure if something is wrong with my email program, or if there are no people reading this page who know/like Theatre (hint: British, 70's), or if no one wants a free cockring.

The idea last week was whoever guessed the most Theatre Posters in this pic would get a free, NEW, UNUSED leather snap cockring. I swear, it's still in the baggy, untouched, don't be afraid to enter! Or even if you don't want it, or haven't a clue what the posters say, Email Me anyway, just so I can check if the email program is working - but seriously, only ONE ENTRY has come in , with ONE CORRECT guess - so, by Friday, I'm shipping this thing out to someone - why not you?

Meanwhile, today I'm watching porn, and lots of it. I wanna post a bunch of auctions today, and I kinda wanna lay low, after hearing way too many insane theories about yesterday's crash (one guy told me that it must be terrorists, since they knew on this plane, it would be all Dominicans, and they don't have cell phones........ at that point I stopped listening, and turned up the volume on the discman).... it's very sad, and I don't wanna come off like an a-hole, so I won't comment on some of the stuff I'm reading/hearing in various places, we're all entitled to our opinions and reactions, so, mine will be kept to myself. Let me just do the laundry (that red, all-cotton Union Suit I bought on eBay arrived today) - once it's washed, I'm staying put, drinking lots of coffee and having several "private moments" with the help of Lee Ryder in Sticky Business, Al Parker in Timber Wolves, Frank Parker in Biker Pigs From Hell, Jon King in The Best of Jon King and maybe even a "blond" like Leo Ford in The Summer of Scott Noll.

...gosh, I hate those restless nights, where I keep waking up every 20 minutes, checking CNN, then looking in the fridge for chocolate, then crawling back in bed; waking again, check CNN, nab a few pics of video boxes for my porno auctions from the internet, have some ginger ale, crawl back into bed; wake up , check for chocolate in the kitchen cabinets, check CNN, drag the blanket onto the couch, fall back asleep; wake up, check the news online - Pack-It Jeans making a come-back, check desk drawer for chocolate, check CNN, they're giving more time to the Afghanis shaving their beards off than to the revenge killings of 100's....... oh, I'm sure I must be sleeping again already.....

i can't believe this

oooooooooooooooooh

I am sooooooooooo high!

spent the afternoon at this fund-raising benefit (is that redundant?) for Gay Men's Chorus, over in the West Village called "Porn Again" - basically, the members of the group (plus some donations, I think) threw together their unused porn to sell off. Well, hoping there might be a few good things there, I got there soon after it began, and scoped the place out rather quickly. Free snacks? Later! Scoped out the various tables, and made a bee-line to the cheap table. Finally, my years of "studying" are paying off, I could recognize titles with no boxes so fast (Score - Joey Stefano, director Chi Chi Larue, 1990, grab it, Joey takes a nice facial in this one) El Paso - hmmm, old label, might be the "good" unbutchered version, Grab it. Bullet Pac#2, might have Bruno (it did!! yeah!) Grab it. Colt - those sell, grab 'em. I even ran into a neighbor, we chatted briefly, but I had to tell him I was focused on this; fortunately, he's a member of the Chorus, so he was happy I would be spending money. Sizing Up - isn't that Matt Sterling's 1984 film with Matt Ramsey (you younger folks might know him as Peter North)? grab it!! I was fairly aggressive, the browsers got the idea that I was serious, and stood out of the way. Ranger in the WIld (hmmm, not to be confused with Al Parker's Rangers, but still Daryl Brock, Max Grande!), The Big One - music by Costello Presley; Best of Jon King, Summer of Scott Noll, Bijou? Wakefield Poole's second film, from 1972, with an original video label? cool; no, I grabbed it first, get out of my way --grrrrrrrrrr!

Anyway, being one of the first 100 to arrive, they also threw in 2 bonus videos - I barely made it home on my bike with over 30 videos and a few magazines. I went back - mostly cuz I figured I could use a beer, relax, and actually SPEAK to my neighbor, who's a cutie - but I didn't want to stay with all my porn and worry about it after drinking. Someone even tried to buy El Paso from me as I was checking out. Grrrrrrrrrrr. back off!!! (no, I was nice, I started to explain why it might be valuable, the homophobe getting tossed thru the bar window scene isn't in the more recent copies, and he sorta got bored and walked away, but 3 other people were impressed!). I had Pretenders first album on the discman, porn in a big shopping bag, and stuffed into my backpack - great ride home! I quickly checked that it IS the old El Paso, and then I headed back. Actually found 2 more decent tapes, including another Colt - this one..................wooooh!! Al Parker and Mike Davis in "Timber Wolves" plus Johnny Harden (this is a "keeper"!) And they even gave a bonus video to everyone when it was time to leave - The Road Home, which I have a dupe of, and I know it's good - Todd Gibbs, totally not my type in theory (smooth, blondish-red) but baby! what a body - oh shit! this is the one with Ryan Idol as a priest who jacks off while listening to confession!

Think I'll be very busy for a few days, hehe.

i don't go out on Saturday nights. I joke that it's "amateur night" but mostly I don't care for the crowds of drunk people roaming the streets, looking for more entertainment, more alcohol, more drugs. But waiting outside for a performance to start, something I wanted to see mostly to force myself to "get out there" I realized it also has a lot to do with how I'd pretty much gotten used to being part of a couple - up until 2-1/2 years ago, I pretty much had a boyfriend ( 3 different "main" ones) for the previous 16 years I've lived here. So, of course, Saturdays were mostly taken. Sundays were the night to go out, often by myself. Anyway, stuffing this slice of pizza down my piehole (gosh, is that really a term people use?), knowing that it's usually a whole pizza, by myself on a Saturday night, I still wasn't comfortable being out. Ugh, I just feel too self-concious by myself on Saturday nights. But I figured I could get away with going to see a silly performance, and have some laughs while slouching in a dark corner.

The venue was small, cozy, and I guess I had like 1/2 a minute to find a seat, according to the guy at the door. The show started pretty quickly, a one-man thing, and I tried to get a groove in the plastic chair for my ass to get comfortable in. I know I should be writing about the show, how good it was, or some "critque" - but I first noticed hairy forearms. Beautiful hairy forearms. And his face was even cuter than the pics I had seen on the webpage, so I had to struggle a bit not to just zone out and smile to myself while stairing at this cute, expressive face up there (and the eyebrows! when he'd scrunch up his face, they'd go all slanty and lickable....). But it started pretty relaxed, some silly "hey you doing out there - woo-hoos" and shit. And then the storytelling. I expected silly filthy stuff, and I got silly filthy stuff (yeah the buttmunching, tongue-flicking thing, plus a bunch more); I even found myself stifling my laugh, as I can get kinda loud, and in a small room, well, I just don't like to get noticed. So, he's describing this lockerroomsex scene, very very funny, and his facial expressions and body language are both hysterical, and yet rather adorable. I'm pulled in, kinda relating to the silliness of having to perform (the sexscene) while your mind is thinking about all this other stuff, so I'm nodding, and laughing in recognition, and then....... I dunno, it shifted suddenly, and quietly, and quite unexpectantly.

You ever watch a movie, and it's one of those intense close-ups at a difficult moment, so you only look like halfway at the screen? You are completely pulled in, but you feel this need to give the person some privacy, so you can't stop watching, but you can't watch head-on? And it wasn't anything earth-shattering, mind you, it just felt very personal, and he his voice was quiet, and slow, and measured, just enough for you to feel it, and recognize it in yourself, and have your heart slow down, and race, simultaneously. The experience of an unexpected "hot sex scene" where you try to go with it, and then you try to make it intimate, and you are being intimate, and yet the other guy, well, isn't?

Well, that's probably very vague, but I guess what makes something "art" is that it gets at you, regardless of your ability to explain how it got to you. I'm sure it could use some tightening up, and someone could figure out a better way for this part or that part to go here or there; maybe it was just the intimacy of the venue, or my frame of mind, wanting the laughs, surprised and moved by the "more"; maybe just my mind wondering through all my own shit while viewing hairy forearms, cute mouth, someone very comfortable with his body; maybe it was just a good show.