Ahhhhhh. My first cup of coffee in 5 days! Tastes good, but depending on how my body reacts, glad I have the day off of work. Speaking of work, as I approached the restaurant yesterday evening, I saw the white truck, quickened my pace, and as I got to the Avenue, Eyebrow Man comes out the side door. While I waited for the light to change, he clearly had seen me and waited on the corner, and we chatted for a few minutes. Nothing major, just chit-chat, mildly vaguely flirtateous (he said he'd teach me to drive when he gets his car........mmmm driving with a Truck Driver biker-wannabe, mmmmmmm; I reminded him of the invite to my place and that bottle of Hpnotiq I got for Xmas). It's going slow, but we seem to put lasting smiles on each other's faces, and that's really good. I think he's still "checking me out/ figuring me out" - like he asked "how's your friend?" - to which I didn't at first know what he was referring to, but he meant my pal who was visiting last week who he got introduced to (hey Mikey, he likes you!) Sunday's chat also had some silliness, like when he ordered a taco platter, and I asked "hard or soft shell?" - his response? "HARD, of cawse!" (Damn, I can eat that accent up!)

What's up for the day? Well, some bill paying, and money managing; laundry, and oh yeah, have a cool non-porno scene from a porno movie for y'all later. Those are my faves, of course; and it's from Hand In Hand Films, who did such great story-oriented films in the 70's, so I think you'll like this bit from Keith Anthoni's first film, Catching Up (1975). Oh yeah - the El Paso clip below comes down late tonight, so it's your last chance to view - enjoy!

While I'm still a bit under the weather, there are signs that I've feeling a bit better. A good pal called me last night and my sense of humor seems to be coming back (as well as my smart-ass, which some like, some don't). But, I haven't had coffee, ice cream, or guacomole in god-knows how long, and that stinks. (Apparently, some people were a lot closer to those 6-pack abs before getting sick, as my gut is still a hairy beer-belly bear-daddy thing hanging over my belt) Meanwhile, going thru the motions of AOL chatrooms, and of course, I love the exchange of keyboard pics, always a big turn on for me. (I wonder if lesbians do anything similar?)

I should really get a job as one of eBay's censor's - Jock Used Jock Strap

Hmmmm. still not feeling great, but I think I'm feeling better. 3 days with no coffee, and barely any solid food (I got adventurous last night with saltines and apple juice, but the 3 am cranberry juice was probably a mistake). Thanks to the well-wishes of readers! (I've been awful about answering emails for a week now, I'll get to them someday, I promise.) I would love to stay home from work today, but can't. Besides, today is my weekly "lust after Eyebrow Man day", so it wouldn't be wise, emotionally, to go without seeing him, as disappointing as the outcome always is. I never bothered to write about last week's chats with him (2 on Sunday, 1 on Tuesday when I just happened to be walking by the restaurant), perhaps I needed to mull it over a bit, and perhaps I needed to keep it to myself and a couple close friends as I struggle with the "is slowly becoming just friends good enough? question. So, i hope i can simply enjoy a bit of attention from a nice man, and accept it for that today (if it happens, I shouldn't ASS-ume!). My stomach is really gurgling and growling right now, gotta run!

EL PASO WRECKING CORP

"Wait a minute. Let me cool down or I might - POP!"

Director: Joe Gage (1977)
Starring: Richard Locke and Fred Halsted; plus Steve King, Beth McDyer, Georgina Spelvin, Jeanne Marie Marchaud, Stan Braddock, Aaron Taylor, Robert Snowden, Keith Anthoni and Ken Brown, Rob Carter, Veronica Compton, Clay Russell, Guillermo Ricardo, Lou Davis, Mike Morris (father), Jared Benson (son), Hal Dron, Joe Gage, Ty Harper, Delmer Jackson, Yank Jankowski, Christian Laage, Buck Lingren, Ed Murray, Bill Oberfeldt, and Al Yeager

This film was released on Christmas day, 25 years ago. I first saw it at the Bijou Theatre in Chicago in '79 or '80. A couple years back, horrified that what I remembered about the film wasn't in the video rental I had gotten, I did what many of us do, search the web for info on what was up with that. As much porno as there is on the internet, I was surprised at how litle information there was about my favorite old porno films, and that's why I started making up little webpages about the films, and directors, I remembered fondly. El Paso was one of the most successful all-male porn movies made, and the fact that it is impossible to buy a good, complete copy of it are baffling. Rumours about FBI raids, lost reels, and this "controversial" scene as too much in the Age of Reagan - the father-son sex scene, tried to explain this. I have no idea why HIS Video, and whoever put out the DVD, couldn't do what I did, hunt around long enough to locate a better copy. Granted, mine is VHS, and might not make for the best transfer to DVD, but having chooped up and missing scenes seems to be a worse alternative, doncha think?

Enough of that - the set up here is that Halsted and Locke have fled Kansas City after being fired from their jobs as truck drivers, and have driven down to El Paso where Halsted lands them a job at, you got it, El Paso Wrecking Corp. Halsted takes a shining to the boss's son, and follows the son into a shed for a "chat". A few minutes later, daddy Mike Morris walks in on them, and silently watches. I would be interested in hearing from anyone who has the DVD, to see how much, if any, of this scene actually appears in the DVD version. I do have a few notes on what I think is missing from the newer versions on my GAGETAPE page.

ugh. my clammy body spent a few more hours napping, and I got up to try some forkfuls of rice, the first morsels of food in 24 hours. Seems like it is some sort of flu - headache, stomach churning (plus other symptoms that won't be described here) - and I only hope I can feel good enough to work in the morning. I have gotten the post ready for tomorrow, the El Paso clip I mentioned previously, as a sort of belated 25th anniversary acknowledgment of that great film. It's a long clip, coming in at 9 minutes and 17mb's, but I couldn't honestly see cutting out the set up for the actual sex-scene, as I think part of Gage's brilliance lies in his set-ups, the moods he creates. Here, the older guy seducing the younger (or didn't the young guy actually seduce Halsted?), the danger of Dad/boss being just outside, etc. Some folks may wonder what the big deal is, once you see the clip, as it is a rather tame clip - primarily tight head shots of the 3 characters featured, not much in terms of cockshots and naked bodies (all 3 remain mostly clothed). But that's what I like about Gage, he seems to capture that non-bed variety of sex well - jerk-off clubs, blow jobs in cars, taking a break from your construction job to get your rocks off in a shed. Mmmmmm.

Taking a break from feeling sick, and feeling sorry for myself (I'm just awful about being sick) to see if I can upload this clip from El Paso Wrecking Corp. This is one of the scenes that many of you, especially anyone who has the DVD version, or a later issue VHS version, have never scene. Alleged to have been cut out because of it's implied incest, Mike Morris (father), watches Jared Benson (son) give Fred Halsted a blowjob. Let's see if I can get this up soon.

ouch. my gut hurts sooo much. I had a great pal visiting from out of town, but mid-way through his visit, I started feeling sluggish and run-down. By yesterday afternoon, I could tell I was definately sick, but wasn't sure what was wrong. I won't go into gross details, and I still don't know what's wrong, other than a stabbing sensation in my stomach, no desire for food, chills, burping, and, well.....

time to crawl back into bed; thanks god I have the whole day off.

sleepy here, and no, I don't know who this guy is. He had 3 pics on his sex-ad, so I had a pal of mine make them into an animated gif. It's nice, eh?

So, I think I've been going about the find-a-man thing in all the wrong ways. So, as we all seem to make New Year's Resolutions - screw the hairy bod, nice pits smell, and huge schlong requirements - now I'm going to go for men with furniture that matches my pottery collection. Yup, big fag that I am, I do collect certain types of American Art pottery, and I think this guy pictured here may have more Mission Style furniture for me to put my 1915 Roseville Mostique collection on. Whaddya think?

OUCH! So, you have a friend coming from out-of-town, who is determined to force you to drink all 3 nights he's here, you have errands/work to do during the day, and restaurant work at night - should you go out the night before, drink beer, smoke dope, and get pushed and shoved around some god-awful backroom where very little actual sexual activity is taking place, then come home and eat whatever is in the fridge, waking up with a hangover and food particles in your beard and on your clothes? I didn't think so, but sometimes ya just gotta.

Oh, remember all that talk about TEXAS and SODOMY a few weeks back? One of the local papers finally got their on-line archives together, and you can read the excellent coverage, starting with Sodomy Returns to Supreme Court, plus a couple other background pieces, all by noted legal scholar Arthur S. Leonard. If you are hungover like me, or don't have time, you really ought to bookmark it and check it out later.

OK, if you're going to shield your face in your sex-ad photo, a nice whiff of daddy pits is definately the way to go, don't ya think?

So, I've been wondering if this "daddy" look is ever gonna pay off. Maybe I need to learn to be a top. Gonna need a patient boy to fuck, and fuck a lot, to get it right. Hmmmmm. Need to work on that.

"looking for uninhabited, piggy masc man. vers top here and into just about everything. "

Now, was I wrong to email the gentleman and suggest that perhaps he meant uninHIBited? So touchy, these guys; he never wrote me back to thank me - or maybe he prefers his men to be uninhabited.

So, let's say you get home a little after midnight, tired, bored, lonely, horny. You spend hours on sex4hotmen, cruisetool, AOL, M4M4M4M, etc. Finally, at around 6 a.m., you get your first serious offer. Sexually compatible, lives nearby, digs your pic. Then he sends this picture. What do you do?

A sound I hadn't heard in a long time, just a few minutes ago I heard the call of a mourning dove. If I thought about it, I would have maintained my frown, but instinctively, a smile grew wide on my face. It's call lasted only a few minutes, but it reminded me of watching the pair on my window sill last spring; the eggs, and then the chick, and the pair taking turns feeding it. That chapter ended badly, the chick gone one morning, clearly fallen or god-knows-what from the crow that had been lurking. A few weeks later, I saw the pair again, cooing, courting, whatever it is they do. Their sounds beautiful, yet sad. More importantly to me, they seem to have no choice. Yes, I'm trying to tie this in to my own sorry sad attempts at courting, and it doesn't quite fit, but give me a break, I'm on my first cup of coffee.

Christmas Eve. Tuesday morning, I woke up, coffee, feeling sorry for myself, as I hadn't made plans for the holiday - but had two errands to run, to two different post offices. The first one had a box of cookies from a very good pal, and I thought to stop off at work and share. Yes, it would be my excuse to drop in on my day off, during the day when Eyebrow Man might possibly could sorta be there. I passed the restaurant on my way to the other post office, noting there was no telltale white midsized truck in the vicinity, and did the long-line at the Post Office on Xmas Eve thing on 14th st. On my way back down Ave A, I think I see a white truck, parked right in front of the restaurant, kinda blocking the bus stop. Now, since my little obsession has started, I've learned that there are approximately 15 mid-sized white trucks on any given block in Manhattan at any given time, so with that in mind, I kept peddling faster anyway. As I crossed the intersecting street, there, I see HIM climbing into the driver's side of the truck. Peddling even faster, I hear the engine rumble, pull up just at the door, with my front wheel sorta blocking the front of the truck. When he sees me, he unrolls the window, a big beautiful smile.

"HEY DADDY!" he exclaims. Wow. So he really did call me "daddy" a few weeks back when I thought I had imagined it! We talk briefly, enough for me to find that he needs to park the truck somewhere legally, but will be back, and I tell him I'm stopping in for a few minutes, and will see him inside. Gosh, it seemed like a long time before he returned, but I open the box of cookies, pass them around, and wait in the take-out area. When he comes in, I first direct him to the cookies on the counter, then we talk a bit. I ask what he's doing that night, he says "no plans" but turns and asks me the same question. I say something about "grabbing some two-4-one beers, feeling sorry for myself" but I smile as I say it, trying to make fun of myself. He asks where, I tell him The Phoenix, and while he doesn't seem to recognize the name, he says something along the lines of it sounding cool. I tell him he should come, and then I head behind the counter to look for something to write on. As I find a yellow-sticky pad, he asks what time I plan on getting there. He grimaces at the hour (midnight) but I write down my name and phone number, hand it to him, and say "make sure you call me later, it'll be fun." I pack up my stuff, and he puts out his paw for me to manhandle, and we shake. "Talk to you later" I say to him, then turn to the other 2 coworkers and say HAPPY CHRISTMAS.

I sailed home, of course, mood lifted immensely. I did laundry (clean sheets), cleaned up around the apartment, and just waited to hear. I felt good about being a bit more aggressive, clearer that I'd like to spend time together. But as afternoon turned into evening, and evening into night, no phone call. I still went out, on the off chance that he might just go without calling, but nope. I had even bought an answering machine earlier in the day, something I had put off doing for weeks, but thought "gee, don't want to miss the call if I'm down in the laundry room."

Since Tuesday night, my moods have swung widely - but mostly in the lower ranges - feeling foolish; feeling stupid for getting my hopes up, depending on some stranger to lift my spirits and provide a few hours or more of joy. And then feeling bad for feeling bad, that old Christmas "there are billions of others who are less fortunate than you" bit; it works well on me. It's totally true, but of course, isn't much consolation (which of course it shouldn't be). The frustrating part is that there is no answer; if not Eyebrow Man, it will be someone else again someday. Someone I will look at and know - it's him. And the anxieties of wondering if that feeling will be mutual, if that curiosity and hunger will go anywhere. It eats me up, drives me mad, I can't stop wondering.

I've been thinking a lot about hands, and lips, lately. Body parts that can never be adequately displayed in any porno scenario, but probably the most important body parts there are. Cliche' for the more usual fantasies involving body parts, but the old saying about it being "what you do with it" is indeed what counts. Because it's the use of them, the touch of his warm hand on your shoulder, the gentle feeling of his lips on the back of your neck, the kisses you give to his dark eyelids - soft, reassuring, ....... yeah, I'm stuck on this guy for a while, I guess. I haven't even seen his lips, they are so buried under that 'stache! It's driving me crazy, and I only hope that the good crazy can help compensate for some of this frustrating, annoying, all-consuming please-lord-give-me-a-lobotomy bad crazy.

Here's the thing. Yesterday came and went without the dream sequence I had hoped for, but with what I had expected - getting to work, looking around like a lost puppy, disappointed, and long stretches of "I shoulda done this" and "I shoulda said that." Sure, I'll run into Eyebrow Man on Sunday as usual; and sure, I will no doubt ride past the restaurant this afternoon on my way to the post office, eyeing any mid-size white truck in the vicinity, with more little disappointments. As the kids today say - WHATEVER. On to more important things.

Today's clip features another scene from Navy Blue, from Francis Ellie. Very typical of "his" films (actually a team of 2 men, see director's page linked below) - corny dialogue, and loud distracting music; it still "works" if you wanna close the office door and pull out your wanger for a few moments and see that at least Santa gets some this Christmas.

NAVY BLUE

"Would you like to put something in my chimney?"

Director: Francis Ellie (1979)
Starring: Jack Wrangler and George Payne; plus Giuseppe Welsh, Brian Ray, Adam DeHaven, Kurt Mann, Snapper Foster, Derek Thurston, and Anna Freed

So late last night, Eyebrow Man is standing in front of my Christmas tree, wearing nothing but a big red ribbon, as I approach him from behind, slowly taking the ribbon off. Wait! I don't have a Christmas tree! Damn, I keep confusing myself with Jack Wrangler. I was watching Navy Blue last night, a story about two guys in the Navy on a 12-hour leave in NYC. Each is secretly in love with the other, but can't bare to admit it to the other and jeopardise their friendship. They part ways, and Jack is trying to enjoy site-seeing on his own, but loses himself in thought looking at one of the Christmas-decorated windows, imagining a romantic encounter with his buddy, 70's bearded hunk George Payne, complete with disco-theme music, of course. If y'all are good, and send me "please please please" emails, I'll post the better quality Salvation-Army-Santa-picking-up-Payne scene. But meanwhile, enjoy this more sensual scene.

NAVY BLUE

"Wish I didn't have to keep up this pretense. Just tell him how I feel. I wonder what it would be like to make it with him. Ahhh, what a fabulous Christmas present that would be! To make it with him. Christmas present. Christmas present. Christmas present.... "

Director: Francis Ellie (1979)
Starring: Jack Wrangler and George Payne; plus Giuseppe Welsh, Brian Ray, Adam DeHaven, Kurt Mann, Snapper Foster, Derek Thurston, and Anna Freed

beer. cabfares. hungover. where the f*#k is that Xmas porno clip I wanna post?