HOT ON HIS TAIL

From director Bob Hard (I don't make this stuff up), this 1987 video called HOT ON HIS TAIL (subtitled The Rise and Fall of a Male Porn Star), is a movie that tells the story of a young man yearning for fame and fortune in the world of gay pornography. Of course, he just happens to work where a famous porn star (Michael Cummings, playing himself) is staying, and guess what? He manages to get an audition!

Oh yeah, did I mention I'm starved for attention, and that it's kindof a pain in the ass to post these clips, so the teeniest bit of feedback is most welcome and appreciated. And I'm not pointing any fingers, really.

(oh yeah, and the usual "this clip will be gone by Sunday cuz I'm a cheap bastard and can't afford too much bandwidth" still applies)

......it's the mornings that are tough. If I could only eliminate the mornings (no, sleeping til noon doesn't quite work, although I havent done that in months, if not longer). So, I'll just pretend to be happy happy happy, and I'm sure that'll turn me around. And yes, a porno clip is coming up as soon as I can remember all that HTML_FTP crap that I swear I knew only yesterday......

t.v. listing

Charlie Rose (CC, Stereo)
Nuclear terrorism discussion;
Ben Affleck.

I swear, tomorrow there WILL be porn in this space

After talking to a couple of friends, and re-reading my "rough night's sleep" post from Wednesday, I see that I not only don't agree with my pals' attempts at helping me feel better, I don't even like my own analysis of what's bugging me. While I did indeed have those "when will I ever be loved" feelings yesterday morning, it's such a small portion of what is actually going on in my brain at the moment. In fact, I would say it's more accurate to say its a by-product, or even a distraction. For example, a pal said something to the effect of "it's his loss" to which i almost screamed! My pal's intentions were to say that I'm a nice guy and all that, so that's appreciated, of course, but it's not that I needed reassurance. And, in reality, it's not the other guy's loss, it is mine. I wanted things to continue, he didn't; it's not continuing, so, duh, I'm the loser (so to speak). (maybe "lossee" would soften the blow)

Now, the point here isn't to feel bad for myself, or for you, the reader, to feel bad for me (although chocolate would REALLY be appreciated) or all that. And I'd rather not get too mushy and all, but the real point is that he's a really great guy, and we had a really great time together, and, well, it's just too bad it didn't work out. And there's all sorts of reasons (I think) why in the long run I suppose its better (not that I can really think of any, but "they" tell me it's better)..... But, I'm still in that dreamy sorta "ooh, he's so cute" and "ooh, that was so funny" and "ohh, your chin is in the perrrrrrrrrfect spot" kinda way. And I've been struggling all fucking week to remember like one bad time together, or anything rotten about him or our times together that could help me get through this, but god-diddlydangit, nada! So, I'll just have to struggle through this, and let time do it's thing, and occasionally let those very cool memories put a smile back on my face.

........ well, I guess it wasn't exactly live (the NY Times cam) but a few seconds delay. Difficult to articulate how it felt watching the ceremony, fairly obvious feelings........... but I must say, the flat-bed truck with the "last beam" really got to me. The sound of that truck forced into mind the memory from last fall of seeing trucks late at night on Canal St with huge gnarled steel beams; the grim police and guards lining up the streets, the sound of these trucks pounding thru lower Manhattan potholes, and the horrible thoughts that you just can't let in, that the symbolism of the distorted, twisted metal was awful enough.

N Y times live cam at ground zero

smile

I've just dropped off 10 packages of porn at the Post Office, hopped on my bike, and am quickly lost in my thoughts again. The new Elvis album is killer, and I've forced myself not to bring it with me this morning, just to give it some air, so to speak. But I start to think how several days ago I found the non-album single he's putting out called Smile, the old Nat King Cole/Charlie Chaplin thingee, and it's such a great version! I mean, it only works for the length of the song, but I do indeed find myself smiling while it's on, and actually (shhh, this is embarassing, since I have absolutely no talent whatsoever) I will actually attempt a little bit of a tapdance/shuffle thing about 40 seconds into the song! So, of course, thinking about this silliness, and turning the corner onto Ave B, and heading north, I'm grinning pretty big. And I get to 4th St., the traffic light turns red, and I stop, as I usually do, and then look across the street, and see this really cute guy that I've had a crush on for several years. He owns/runs a vintage shop - physically he's a cross between an ex boyfriend of mine and Russel Crowe - and I often see him walking his dog. And he's heading right towards me!

"GIVE ME THAT BIKE!" he says, and starts to laugh as he gets within inches of my face. "Hemna, hemna, hemna" I studder in that Ralph Kramden way I have. He continues: "I see you all the time on your bike, and smile at you, but we've never met - in fact, I remember you from Crow Bar, and would often smile at you there, but to no avail" I'm pleasantly puzzled, as I don't really remember him from way back then, but of course am giddy that he remembers me. So I add "Hmmm, I don't remember that, but I do remember you accidentally smiled at me once, as you were opening up your shop, in that hey, hi, oops, I don't know you, why did i smile like that at you kinda smile" and he laughed, then told me his name, I told him mine, then I went on - "you - dog, boyfriend, right?" (do you like the way I slipped that in, trying to get some info so as not to get crushed later on?) He laughed, and said: "dog died, boyfriend still around" So we talked about his dog, who was a real cutie, blah blah, then we shook hands a second time (nice hands, mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm) as he said he had to run and open up shop, but was glad to finally meet.

Awwww, I'm still smiling as I type this..........

....... so, I'm trying to review Butthole Banquet 2, but I realized I really should've watched the original Butthole Banquet first, since I just can't follow the plot!

........rough night's sleep. And while I'm getting tired of being "down in the dumps", my thoughts seem to be taking me even further down that road (am I mixing my metaphors again?) Lying in bed before beginning the morning routine, I even tried to figure out the answer to this question: When was the last time someone said "I love you" to me in a romantic way? - killer, eh? and since it was at least 5 years ago......... you can imagine that this first cup of coffee isn't as satsifying as it usually is. The good news, and I really think there is some, is that I'm not sufferring from those self-esteem issues that often hits one when he's going through these kinds of thoughts. You know, "I'm unlovable because: -
I'm ugly
I'm too old
I need to get back to the gym
I'm unemployed
I'm boring
I'm boring in bed
While all those are true enough, they don't bother me, and I still have a healthy amount of self-confidence. But I am plagued by what I consider a scarier reality - it's just impossibly tough to find someone who is pyschologically in that same place of wanting the basic stuff together, and who shares the same values, and, most important, cuz this is how it all gets started, who has that same animal/chemical attraction to you - the kind that's unexplainable, the kind that you can't pinpoint why, and you can even find lots of logical reasons why it doesn't make sense, but who you think about, and just get a huge grin, and have all those giddy thoughts about, and who you look forward to seeing, and just being with. Not "lets find a share in Fire Island together", but, "wow, I love how your eyebrows do that" and "your hands pulling me closer is the best feeling I've ever had"

From Sunday's New York Times, an amazingly riveting account - Fighting to Live as the Towers Died - to the right, there is a sidebar "interactive" link called Inside the Towers recounting specific experiences from a handful of companies, through putting together answering machine messages, emails, cell phone calls. Very tough to read, and listen to, but very important.

boxers.

I used to be younger.

Every Elvis has his Army

I so don't want to go out tonight. I hate Saturday nights out, I hate leaving the neighborhood. I hate subways, and I am in a fowl, fowl mood. But I was invited to a party, and I never get invited to nuthin', and I had already invited a pal to go with me, and he's in a similar mood, so you know what they say about company liking , er, well, something. But, meanwhile, since this morning, I decided that there is a different bestest song on Elvis's When I Was Cruel album - such a fantastic love song, 15 Petals - like love itself, the song is messy, and chaotic, and Elvis screams like a madman, and the rhythms are all over the place, and fantastic and wonderful....... really, you should BUY IT; but meanwhile, give this one a listen, and of course, CRANK IT!

Smiling Pizza

Yesterday was an interesting day. Hmmmm, "interesting" is the kind of word you use when a friend gets a new haircut, and you can't tell the truth, and you can't lie. Let's start over. Yesterday was a good day. Of course, that's an assessment of a whole 24 hour period, averaging it out, and taking the good with the bad, the bad got outweighed (although I have moments when I dont think so) by some really nice stuff. But I'll choose to focus on the good, cuz its easier to write about, and the bad wasn't all that bad, just disappointing, and still getting processed, and its that type of bad that one day you laugh about (I think). I made plans to go with a buddy to Prospect Park's Wildlife Center, since they have this tiny zoo with a handful of animals, a cool pond that I knew would have sunbathing turtles, and it's part of my "get out of the house and enjoy your city, dumbass" plan. Still plagued by thoughts about the Statue of Liberty, I'm reading a bit about Hitchcock's Sabateur while on the subway (it's the one where the final scene is actually on the statue, and the villain falls from the torch, I think, to his death). And the subway emerges and becomes an elevated train, and I glance East, and there she is, "Lady Liberty" shining in the bright morning sun. And I just start having those sad thoughts; not scarey fearful ones, but just sadness. Which is not the best way to start a day of outdoor park-going fun. I leave the train at the correct stop, walk through the longest tunnels it seems, still lost in my depressing thoughts, and walk up the stairs to the street. As I get to the top, there's an awning with the words, the name of this restaurant, no doubt - Smiling Pizza - and it just made me giggle, smile, and think "oh, what the fuck, you're about to have a nice day, enjoy it!"

After a few minutes of trying to figure out which "coffee-storelike thing" we agreed to meet up in front of, we find each other, and head off for some really good toasted bagels with melty creamcheese, plus some Samantha brand 4 dollar amazingly delicious juiceproduct. We're on the other side of the park, but the walk is good, and we're chatting about various stuff, and one of us keeps singing some song (hint: it wasn't me), and we find our way to the back of the Wildlife Center, then the front, then $2.50, then about 4 zillion children. Turtles sunbathing indeed, and lots of screaming kids running around, a couple of wallabies retreating in the shade, 2 emus doing the same, a rescued bald eagle, 2 adorable red pandas, and a few others creatures. The baboon exhibit was cool - mostly cuz this group of kids decended upon us, pushing their way to the window, surrounding me, and yelling and making faces at this one baboon, who walked up to the window, snarled, they all screamed and jumped back, then laughed, and came back to the window. It was so unbelievably noisy, and could've been quite annoying, but, hell, they're kids, and they were having a blast! And so was I.

lots of time in the sun, my head is burned red, despite the application of sunscreen early in the day ( I guess it could be worse), some Thai food, a bit of a rest in the park, then homeward.

After being home a bit, I tried Simpsons, I tried a nap, nothing could get me out of this too-thoughtful meloncholy boardering-on-depressed mood. But I'm not one to shun depression, I think it's a good method for sorting things out, so I let it in for a bit, then went to try a nap again. Not working, I grabbed a bunch of clippings a friend had given me the night before.

An ex-boyfriend; when we were going out, he'd often clip stuff from magazines and newspapers that he thought would interest me. I had stopped by his house to get some porno he no longer wanted, and chatted with him and his current boyfriend (the "overlapping" boyfriend, a new euphemism I invented just yesterday for the guy you cheat with - but I'm not bitter). And he hands me this pile of clippings. So, sitting in bed, I'm reading all this stuff about Russel Wright (my fave dinnerware) and Elvis Costello's newest release. I had only heard the one song (which I posted a few weeks back, I think) and had vowed to actually buy it, not download it. So, while reading thru these reviews, I knew I needed to hear my fave album, This Year's Model. It's funny, there are SO MANY fantastic lyrics in that album, the kind you think you can use for titles for your blog, hehe. But then I thought I really ought to get the new album, so I put This Year's Model in the discman, put some clothes on (minimal, it was still hovering around 80 degrees after 8pm last night), and hopped on the bike. Very Cool. That album sounds even better thru headphones. So, pedalling maniac, I run over a few stupid pedestrians (there were hundreds that deserved to be run over, but the crowds in this neighborhood on the weekend are too scarey to dawdle, and I was in a hurry). Sounds was open, of course, I grabbed the disc after handing over my $14.06, and peddled homeward. Wow! What a fantastic album! My first choise as BEST SONG is Dust 2... - it really kicks ass, man! (I highly recommend you CRANK IT) Apparently, Elvis refuses to say he has "returned to Rock N Roll" - but prefers to say he wanted to do something ROWDY - and ROWDY it is - fantasticly catchy rhythms ( my body was doing some really scarey twitchy dance-like thngs), more amazing lyrics, and he just screams and coos and smashes that guitar (and he plays a bunch of different ones on here, but I dont know nuthin 'bout guitars, i just know they sound great) - so, I highly recommend the album. I listened all the way through, blown away by most of the songs, and then had to look up some stuff on the interent, and see that he's about to release a version of Smile (which most of us know from Nat King Cole, I would assume; and his version was used in that made-for-TV movie about a beauty contest; and the music was actually written by Charlie Chaplin in 1936 for his film Modern Times) - anyway, I managed to find it on the internet (as I kiss my computer, it never lets me down) -and its so schmultzy, and so completely different from the new album (nothing like this is on the album) but I wanted to share, since, somehow, like the sign in Brooklyn yesterday, it makes me Smile, just like the pizza sign.

took these March 11, 2002, waiting for the Towers of Light to, well, light up. This week, been thinking alot about Statue of Liberty, obviously because of "the threat" - more, if I can manage it, later.

Getting out of the house for the whole day, to enjoy the weather, the parks, etc

BOUND TO PLEASE

Not usually into this sort of thing, porn-wise, but figured I'd take a break from my porno-auctioning and show you a quick look at the talents of Johnny Rahm.

He pulled my head up towards his face, whispering "Let's go take a shower." Having worked up a bit of a sweat, it seemed like a good idea (actually, having gotten very worked up, anything he would've said would've been a good idea). Briefly testing the water for temperature, I climbed in, him behind me. He looked even better wet, and we kissed as I fumbled for the soap. He was suddenly on his knees, his head at my waist. Morning, the sun was bright in the bathroom, and the shower's water was spraying against me, and bouncing off his head. Short-cropped hair, wet, beautifully sun-lit, his head looked as amazing as his mouth felt - the drops of water bouncing off his head were glistening with the morning's sun reflected on them, my hands pulling at his ears. But I wanted to taste his mouth, and pulled him up. We gobbled each other up, as I grabbed his balls, full, and inviting. My turn, I tried to postion myself so that I wasn't getting the water directly in my mouth. After a few minutes of my face under his balls, drinking in the water as it flowed down his hairy body, we shifted again and giggled at some joke about drowning. Still below him, I pushed his body against the far wall, pointed the shower's head towards his back, and watched the hair pattern form a v-shape down his back, towards where my face was going. I pause, looking, taking this all in, wanting to just gaze at him, but also wanting to dive in and feel him, as well. He tasted good, real good. He groaned, and grimaced, as my goattee struggled to get in as far as possible. We were interrupted again as I found I couldn't breathe, I tried to keep going, but wisely he pulled me up, and we kissed more. Overwhelmed by how good he tasted, how good he looked, I felt giddy as we exchanged small smiles and firm caresses. We only dared to look directly into each other's eyes for a few seconds at a time, but my thoughts were swimming with knowing that this was real good. I liked his looks the first time I saw him, but had gotten a chance to know him a bit before this, before we finally had our night together, him waking up in my bed, us getting frisky, him leading me into the bathroom. I lather up some more, smelling the coffee in the next room, and snap out of my daze, my dreaming about that day.

I hadn't heard about the new "warnings" . I was busy getting depressed watching something on The Learning Channel, but, I surfed around during a commmercial, and saw our Governor reassuring us to go on about our daily routines (meaning: go shopping some more?), and then I went to Discovery Channel searching for nature or science, and then on to PBS. Ahhhhh, Evolution. Cool. Whales, how they're related to mice and wolves, groovy scientists finding fossils up in Canada, soothing, calming. Thanks, PBS. But, then, Show 3: Extinction! Five mass extinctions have occurred since life began on earth. Are humans causing the next mass extinction?

Oh look, Network is on AMC.

I'm often turned off by blogs that go on and on about TV shows, but clearly I have my faves that I write about, or at the very least, arrange my teeny tiny social schedule around. Found myself saying no to possible get-togethers 3 times this week because of season finale mania - Simspons, or course; and Boston Public (disappointing, but still I just had to see if the idiot who confronted the murderer last week with "i'm calling the police now" lived or died), and The Practice - ugh, what a lame ending, and it can only be rescued if next season it turns out to be some sort of dream thing ala Dallas (which I never watched, but i think the JR thing was a dream, right?). Anyway, tomorrow night has 3 MUST SEE shows - the final new show from the SIMSPONS for the season, and the season finales for West Wing and my 2nd-only-to-Simpsons-fave-show Law and Order.

just remember, if you drop by, bring beer, and no talking suring the shows, unless its by me

Garage Sale Today

Please feel at home neighbor, as you look around, Browse through my treasures, they're all good and sound -

looks like my buddy Chris is having a Garage Sale - books, music, movies - take a look, and fork off some greenstuff, damnit!