bj's gay porno-crazed ramblings |
Sunday, June 30, 2002
I just saw this woman last week at the Community Center. She was standing at the elevator, going through her purse, head down, but I immediatley remembered that I had a picture of her! Last year, and I can't even remember how the day started, or at one point I stopped being a bystander and just jumped into the Parade and followed it down 5th Avenue and into the West Village. Oddly, I think I was near the Cyndi Lauper float - perhaps because there was no real organization to it, just loud music and Cyndi wearing a ridiculously tall hat. So, on Christopher Street, I hear all this clapping and squealing, just ahead, so I pick up the pace to see what in particular this was about. This woman, all dressed in white, carrying a cane, not a day under 70, was doing this marvelous dance. And the folks in the street gave her all this room, leaving a large amount of space as the Parade slowly moved forward. The crowds on the sidelines were gleeful, cameras snapping, cheering, clapping, whistling, watching this woman having this joyous moment. And those moments are why I love this Parade. I sure hope that I can capture a few more on film today; but regardless, I know I will see them, enjoy them, and once again, be inspired by them.
OK, so there are probably 10's of thousands of visting queers to my fair city this weekend, it's midnight on a Saturday night, and I'm watching some 30's Cary Grant movie on the tube, eating pizza, and of course, getting my jollies by reading AOL profiles while occasionally typing in lewd remarks in the chatrooms. I'm always quite turned off by the "ub2" guys, the guys who describe themselves in some detail, then add UB2. While I will admit to a fair amount of mirror-gazing as I grab my sweaty balls with one hand, and whack away with the other, it's more to give me the illusion of a partner, not because I require a partner to look like me. Of course, the UB2 criteria I loathe the most is HIV- UB2 ; I suppose there are many reasons why this is a turn-off. I suppose the pragmatic side - to expect your AOL trick to be honest and accurate seems a bit naive, and makes me think the guy isn't too smart. But I have to admit that despite all the hook-ups, one-night stands, quickies, backroom and park activities, believe it or not, in some way, I still have this notion in the back of my head that I have to dig you in some way beyond this moment, the possibility, no matter how vague, that there could be something more; and that "more" can be as simple as the pleasant memory of an enjoyable few minutes with another human being. And if you are picking your sexmates based on HIV status, then there is in fact no possibilty of anything beyond this moment for us. I would have no respect for you, and I could not care much for someone like that - god forbid something were to develop, and god forbid that HIV status changes; then what? You're gone? I'm gone? That's it? I find this to be a character flaw I could never overlook, this attempt at securing some sort of safe (and selfish) future, where you don't have to worry - this illusion. What about all the other possibilities of harm, hurt, sickness, sadness; what do you do to prevent all that? I realize I am going way off here, possibly not making any sense, but hell, I think I've experienced enough in my 40 some years to know that no matter how fleeting a relationship is, I want it to have some dignity, some respect for the other person, and that person to at least pretend the same back. "I don't want to chat, know you, experience you because in this one area your luck was different than mine?" Maybe it is my age, my experience, here in NYC for nearly 20 years, that I couldn't imagine not having had the friendships, sexual and otherwise, with the many men I've known. And thier HIV status, and my knowledge or lack of knowledge about it, didn't tell me anything about who that person was. And yes, insisting on knowing HIV status, and deciding whether or not to "chat up" someone based on that, does tell me something about you, that you don't see me as a person first, and I therefore couldn't get interested in you. So, where did this all come from? Late night, alone in cyberspace, looking through AOL profiles and reading this: Can you imagine, valuing a Negative HIV test result over honesty? Saturday, June 29, 2002
You Are My Friend Anyway, over a year ago, while searching for info on the internet about my favorite porno directors and stars, finding very little content is what inspired me to try to put some of the info together and creat some webpages. But I did find someone who had a cute Richard Locke tribute page. So I sent off an email complimenting the page, and we quickly became online pals. One of the funny things, after exchanging real addresses and agreeing to share some porno videos, was that after a couple of weeks, I get an email saying "you realize I'm a woman, right?" HA! I was totally clueless! Somehow I pictured some thin Japanese porn-loving man out on the West Coast (I still don't know her nationality). We had a good laugh, and 18 months later, we still write regularly, sending videos, alerting each other to ebay auctions, etc. And just this week, she submitted what I hope to be the first of many "guest porno reviews" (I have to code it and get stills, so look for it in about a week). Anyway, I got home from my post office run, with a flat parcel in my back pack that I forgot about since in the meantime I had done some other errands. I sit down at the computer to upload the Sylvester tune, still a bit frustrated about the DYKES on BIKES clip (I'll work on it later), and realize I have a parcel. Of course, it's from her, another hard-to-find Jack Wrangler article with accompanying high-quality xeroxed pics from the article (I swear this woman has more Jack Wrangler stuff than anyone on the planet!), and a terrribly sweet note, perfect for my mood, and gave me those happy-smiley tears we all love so much. And of course, between the note/article from her, and the fantastic background singing on the Sylvester song, who can help but think FAG HAG! And I think I know her well enough that she would be honored, rather than horrified, to be called that. But I have no clue as to whether she actually, physically hangs out with gay men, and it made me wonder what would be the word for internet fag hags? E-fag hags? testing, GAY PRIDE, testing, one twoGRRRRRRRRRRR. and not in the good way! I'm looking at some video footage from Gay Pride 2000, trying to upload a decent videoclip, but its not only taking up a huge amount of megabytes, but the quality is only so-so. I checked, and I have a decent amount of bandwidth left for the remaining 10 days of my billing cycle (always with the bandwidth, BJ, ZZzzzzz..), but a 48mb file is HUGE, and still it's less than 1-1/2 minutes! I tried doing a lower framerate version, and it sucks, and still comes in at a rather large 35mb's...... Anyway, the background: 3 years ago, Gay Pride 1999, I was dumped. I thought of doing the whole sad depressing post, but let's just say it happened in a way that it was too late in the day to find any of my friends to go to the Parade with. Later on, I did catch up to my best pal Jeff, and he took good care of me (many tears in many beers). The following year, i wasn't too keen on hitching my wagon to anyone else's train, and had just gotten a videocam for the purpose of making "personal adult solo movies" (ahem), but had enough battery energy in the dang thing to take with me when I went up to the Parade that day. I rode uptown, watched, took a few still pics, and then had the whacky idea of just jumping into the parade with the videocamera rolling, and me riding downtown. This worked fine for a few blocks, but apparently the First Lady/ future Senator was in the parade, and some undercover cops stopped me from riding down Fifth Avenue. (I clearly didn't look like I belonged to any of the groups I was passing by, especially the Rudy Guiliani one). So I got out of the street, and somewhat discouraged, rode downtown on Park Avenue. Stopping somewhere in the teens I headed back to the parade, but on the sidelines. Lucky me, I actually caught up to the begining of the Parade, and of course, Dykes On Bikes! After a few minutes of videotaping, I got the wild and crazy idea of just jumping in, on my own bike (bicycle) and take some footage while riding along with them, since it seemd like it would be more interesting. Well, once I was in, there was no getting out, with all the barricades, so I wound up riding with them for the rest of the Parade. (about an hour, since it's very stop-and-start once you get past 14th st). So, I thought it would be cool to show a minute or two of them riding.......... grrrrrrrrrr......... Friday, June 28, 2002
NeedService8 [9:44 PM]: how bout just one fat one
ok, maybe I need to give up on this particular screenname, huh? gay pride
After the New York Times did their monthly "blogger" article, I got a couple of emails yesterday asking why I'm not on the NYC Blogger Subway Map. With the exception of the wonderful Hit-or-Miss.Org, I don't think I'm on any list of Bloggers. Besides not being much of a "joiner", I checked the map out when it first got all that publicity, and found that I wasn't particularly interested in folks merely because of their geography. I did check it out again yesterday, and with a whopping 1039 folks listed, I was rather surprised then when I searched for the word "gay", I got only 15 results; "queer" yielded 5; "fag" yielded 2; and of course, Lesbian invisibility again, with the words "dyke" and "lesbian" each yielding ZERO results. Of course, it merely searches the brief one-line description that each participant used to describe his or her webpage, but still, I think it's a rather remarkable statistic. Another interesting stat, the Lower East Side - 2 Avenue stop (probably the closest stop to where I reside) has the highest number listed in all of Manhattan at 23; and Bedford Avenue L-train stop in Brooklyn, at 15, seems to have the highest number in that Borough (one stop into Manhattan, a few steps from The Phoenix). Unrelated to all of this, while looking for queer music to download last night, this song seemed appropriate for this time of year.
Thursday, June 27, 2002
wow.
sex. in my bed with a short, scruffy, big-dicked man. Good kisser. Just a tad odd, though; I mean, I'd like to do "it" again, but I don't know about an actual date. And I'm fairly bad at fuckbuddying. I like my anonymous meaningless sex to be, well, just that. Who knows, nothing to get too worried about right now. And I have forgotten his name already, hehe. The room smells of sex, I'm a bit high from it, actually. The home-turf advantage, you can just let your intermingled cum dry wherever, and worry about it later. He had plans to meet up with a buddy at 9:30, so we knew we had only about an hour, and he lived close. He's gone off into the thunderstorm, and I have some stuff to do around the apartment. We met online, and I was using my up-until-now failure of a screen name ORAL3WAY. Anyone who responds always wants to know if there's another guy already here, and loses interest fast when I say "no, nobody else at this point". And with this guy, it seemed like negotiations were about to fail for the same reason, but one or two additional compliments in his direction, and knowing he was only 4 short blocks away, seemed to get him over. As he left, he asked if he could buddylist me, and i told him I'd love his cock in my face again, so I guess he took that as a "yes".
Lurking around the NYC Blogger Subway Map, and searching thru gay/queers, I stumbled upon this young man, read a great post, and left a simple comment on his page. The next day, he writes a really cool email to me, and a funny post about "BJ's porn diaries" - he he! He even Wednesday, June 26, 2002
grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. I swear to f^@#in' g@d I tested it 3 times this afternoon, and it workd, but now the Simpsons clip won't work!!!!!!!!! grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! HOMER'S PHOBIA![]()
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Tuesday, June 25, 2002
Sunday- Folsom Street East oh yeah, then met up with a different ex, and we hung out drooling, er, watching the crowd, and eventually headed to a couple of bars, west village then east village, and then I was home by 1 a.m. for a nap. Well, I planned on it being a nap, but when I awoke at 2:45, the thought of putting clothes on and interacting with drunk people at a nearby bar just wasn't too appealing, so I bumped into a few objects in my apartment, and headed back to sleep.
Hey look - proof that I do get out of the apartment every once in awhile. And the handsome man next to me, with the cute lil bits of fur coming up from under his shirt is Dave. Monday, June 24, 2002
weekendI don't usually think in terms of weekends, since my life doesn't go by the M-F thing, and weekends are really just the time that I avoid being out in my neighborhood at night. But the past several days I have had activities outside this little apartment, and it's been fun.Thursday That was the night I went to see Bijou and wound up sitting with an old ACT-UP acquaintance, and later talking about porn, and "impressing" him with my knowledge about all that important stuff (like the "lead", Bill Harrison, going on to direct films like The Biggest One I Ever Saw, plus others under the name Ronnie Sharks. Oh yeah, and later on sex with 2 different sexy guys at House of Regrets (aka Bijou 82 on 4th St). Friday As I mentioned earlier, saw 2 Poole films, and met the director himself, who is a real sweetheart. I forgot to mention that someone streaked during the screening of Bible!, which was silly but appropriate, cuz on the screen was a keystone cops-style sped-up sexy chase scene around a small pool. Earlier that night went to dinner with a visiting friend from England, a former employer in fact (back when I lived on 4 bucks an hour - ahhhhhhh, New York in the late 80's....). I politely excused myself before dinner was completely done, since I really wanted to get to the Poole films (I made this clear before dinner that I had these plans, and heard later several smart remarks from our guest of honor, who apparently doesn't "approve" of me selling porn on the internet! Ha!) Saturday Well, I sat on my ass most of the day, worrying about money, and better yet, doing absofuckinglutely nothing about it (resume? hmmm, I've heard of those....). And then of course eventually got out of the house to go see Moving at the Poole film festival, and a pal met up with me. Very cool film, the Peter Fisk fisting scene was so lovingly photographed, his tattooed arms could definately talk me into almost anything (hence all the tattoed love boys pics lately). And my pal corrrectly identified the soundtrack for the short Roger - would love to hear the former Beatle's thoughts on his tune being used for the backdrop to Roger's whacking his mighty meat! Oh yeah, and Sunday - need to get back to that, but a highlight was definately bumping into adorable Sparky and getting a big hug, plus meeting his cute (and hairy - grrrrrrrrrrrrr) New Zealand buddy (gee, I guess I could go find the link.... more coffee, link later) Sunday, June 23, 2002
Saturday, June 22, 2002
Wakefield Pooleso, I actually met the man! After the screening for Take One (which was great, I need to reflect on it a bit, it was quite wonderful), and trying to charm/sneak my way in to see the next flic, Mr Poole comes out from the back, and I forced myself out of my shyness and smiled and said "Wow, what a great film! Too bad about the technical problems (several times it sputtered, stopped), but so well done, it looked great!" And then I told him how great I thought it was that he donated his work to the Film Archives, and he told me a bit about that; like how he's good old friends with a board member, and he felt his stuff would be in good hands, and that it wasn't just his prints of his own work, but also his personal prints of some Joe Gage ( I wanted to ask more about that, but at the same time wanted to hear more about him, and his thoughts on the little mini-festival here). I hadn't planned on it, but I was so impressed with Take One that I wanted to stay and see Bible! which I'd heard only bits about, but was hesitant because it was supposed to be a str8 film. All I can say is that there's just a bit of simulated str8 sex, quite safe for us Kinsey 8's, but it was quite remarkable, in a playful, unassuming manner. But what really hit me after having seen Bijou on the big screen last night, and these two films tonight, that - DUH! - no wonder the look of the films is so cool, he's a choreographer! Some of the shots, angles, perspectives were so good. And I don't mean by any sorta big hollywood standards, just that it's so great to see someone get into really making the look of a sexpicture be so good. There was movement, somehow; whether it was the camera's perspective shifting, or the actors themselves moving around or shifting. Hard to explain. But Bible was so simple, and beautiful (not to mention the stud who played Sampson! grrrrrrrrrrrr!!) One part of a scene of a guy about to give another guy a blowjob in the lobby of a porn theatre, we get to see several different perspectives - but not standard bland above-below-sideways, but more like a long shot from the other side of a doorway, slightly above, giving it more af that voyeur perspective which of course is what watching a porn movie is, right? And of course all the guys in Take One had mustaches, and the kissing mustaches was soooo hot, I love that! Anyway, I'm seeing at least one more tomorrow, the only showing of Moving. It's late, I really should get some sleep, but now I wanna dig out that Poole article I stuffed away somewhere in my own little porn archives...Friday, June 21, 2002
I Found That Essence RareHe was tall and, well I guess "lanky" would describe him best. Somewhere close to my age, but with one of those 70's bodies - trim, lean, natural muscle tone that didn't come out of a bottle. And most important, a handsome, strong face that grabbed my lips as he came into the dark little room I had been occupying while leering in his direction for the past 10 minutes. His chest was lightly hairy, with more hair around his stomach and down past the belt, which I kissed lightly as he pulled my right arm upwards and pushed himself in closer and inhaled. Coming back up, but keeping my armpit still in his face, I nibbled at his neck, and could hear the slightest groans. He undid my belt, snap, zipper, then reached in my boxers and lightly grabbed just my balls, cupping them, stroking them as he moved his mouth to mine. At this point, he kicked the door closed, as neither of us had done that at the onset, making the room darker and warmer. I slipped my glasses into a pocket, he pulled down his own pants, and my shorts dropped to the dirty floor. My hands on his balls, he leaned sideways and moved his mouth to my cock, but staying in postion so I could still handle his stuff, which was getting quite hefty and bouncing up and down. He came up again for more kissing, the sweat on our foreheads dripping on to each other, then he crouched down completely, back against the wall, and grabbed me with both hands on my ass, pulling me in.Looking down and seeing the silhouette of his cock being tugged and pulled by his left hand as he kept his right hand firmly on my ass, my cock stiffened in his mouth. Alternating slow, light slurps with rapid, deep ones, I was getting light-headed as his breathing got louder and heavier. His face plunged all the way down, nose deep in my pubic hair, as he then let go, growled a low "awww, man", I pulled him up, our mouths meeting as I got my hand under his balls just as he started to spray, his kissing getting more forecful and his growls and groans muted by our mouths locked on to each other. His body bucked a few times, his lips touching mine only lightly now, my arm and god-knows what else all sticky, his arms pulled me in for one last full-body grab, our sweat smearing on each other, we slowly looked for discarded clothes, with an occasional kiss as the clothes made their way back onto our warm, wet bodies. Once fully dressed, he grabbed the back of my head and planted a slow kiss, pulled the door open with his other hand, letting in air and light, and we exchanged mischievous grins as he left the room. Thursday, June 20, 2002
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hey. thanks to the guys who wrote and said i f**ked up the garbage techno remix. It should work now. now, where's that Bjork/Skunk Anansie version of Army of Me?? It kicks ass! Wednesday, June 19, 2002
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So, is audiogalaxy completely useless now? I even tried "Happy Birthday" and I coudn't find a single downloadable version. yesterdayyesterday was a good day. A few minor problems (where the F**K is that still from The Bigger the Better with Rick Donovan and Matt Ramsey??) but - I won an auction on eBay for a cool 70's film/video; I ordered in sex, and it was good (er, um, he was good; well, no, hmmmm, c'mon, IT was good - well, actually, in all modesty it was me who was good, but I was provided some good material to work with); buyers from eBay were PAYPALLING me money without me even billing them, and the laundry got done (it didn't get put away, but that's just one of my many neuroses, er, funny quirks). I shipped 12 pornopackages, containing 18 pornovideos yesterday. And my gym called again, promising if I buy the yearly membership, they'll hold the low low price for me if I promise to go another year without actually going to the gym.Tuesday, June 18, 2002
Not My Boyfriend, pt 3
I'm not a morning person, but for some reason, it's 8:20 a.m. and I have 3 loads of wash on. Last night, after being disgusted with myself and my life, I knew I had to begin the next day getting shit done (I couldn't do it last night, cuz I had just smoked some pot in celebration of the cool lightning storm we got here). So this morning, at 6:30 I was sorta awake, and I put a pot of coffee on and then crawled back into bed. 25 minutes later, I awoke with tears in my eyes from an odd dream. I was at this department store, early in the morning, so there was a lot of activity, but no actual workers paying attention to me, a customer. I was in the electronics department, wanting to ask about some new portable music player of some sort. After waiting about 30 minutes, 3 women come into the department, but with breakfast, and sit down at a table and start doing their morning gossip while eating. Angry at being ignored, I started throwing things around, smashing up some equipment, and making a lot of noise. When they stared at me in disbelief, I realized I must've looked like a maniac, and fled to the nearest stairwell. When I finally found an escape outside, I was in some sort of churchyard, which was surrounded by small children. They were circling the churchyard, hand-in-hand, singing/mumbling/wailing some sort of warsong, heads hung low, lyrics I couldn't quite understand but something about going off to war to die. I couldn't break through the circle of them until I saw that one of the kids was my niece. I busted through, and of course, woke up.
Monday, June 17, 2002
Its around 4:15 this morning, I'm waiting for the popcorn to finish in the microwave (hurryup!!), and I find the remote to see what's on the tube. Sunday night/Monday morning is the worst time for tv, but I knew I'd be in bed in 20 minutes so it didnt really matter. As I settled in a comfy chair, I looked out the window and noticed a neighbor in the building across the way watching tv. Some sorta sports thing. And everyonce in awhile, he'd jump up, or slap himself in the head, or some other sports-related gesture. I remembered something about some sort of soccer thing, and US fans would have to stay up late, so I started flippin thru channels. Mind you, I had just had my first and only beer of the evening only 20 minutes prior, rode home, and am just waiting for the friggin popcorn to finish (hurryup!!) So it is indeed Worldsoccer, and the clock is at 80:00 something, which means something to someone somewhere, no doubt - so the ringer finally goes off, I grab the bag of popcorn, and sit near the window and alternate watching the tv and the neighbor. I never once saw his face, but the back of his short-cropped hair, the broad shoulders, and the occasional view of his butt (clothed, but still nice) when he'd jump up in whatever dispaly of happiness or disappointment. Meanwhile, back on the screen, they kept showing #10, this beautiful Hispanic guy (I assume Hispanic not only from his features, but from the fact that it's soccer, and I think Mexico was the opposing team - I could be wrong) Either he was an important player, or the cameraman was a big homo and just loved showing the guy (Either way, I am very greatful). Then the guy across the way was doing all sorts of motions, and got real close to his screen, and I hadn't a clue why, but then the tv shows some long-haired sweaty guy falling from like 40 different angles. Alternating slo-mo, above, sideways, and everyconceivable way to show this poor bastard getting clobbered while trying to kick a ball. Then the game continued, still no one was getting the ball anywhere near the goal, and then it was over and the greenshirts were unhappy (poor #10), but the other guys were quite happy and now the US will go on to fight Germany, apparently. Since that hasn't happened yet in this century, I suppose it should be interesting. The guy across the way then goes over to somebody who I hadn't noticed before, and you see this body appear, obviously had been asleep on the couch, and walks out of the room, apparently ok to go to bed now that the game is over. oh yeah and I had sex in a backroom with 2 guys I had individually diddled with previously, but this time I was sorta in the middle. Sunday, June 16, 2002
Reflecting Poole
.......... did u know that whining about not getting any sex rarely helps you get any? In other news, I've spent a good hour trying to figure out the new POSTAL RATES; they suck! Not so much that they are going up , these things happen, but it is so friggin' confusing to figure out how much. The whole Priority Mail thing is being restructured so that anything above a pound depends on which zones the porn is coming from and going to.. And do you thing there'd be an easy way to figure out these zones? HA. I just want to have the most accurate info for my auctions, so folks know upfront what they'll be paying when they place a bid. All I can say now is "more". gRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR oh yeah, if the sexwhining was working on any of you, don't hesitate to let me know, I'm still open. Saturday, June 15, 2002
GODIWANTSEXSOBADRIGHTNOWIDONTCAREIFITHASNOMEANINGANDIWONTCOMPLAINABOUTITLATERISWEAR JUSTLETMEHAVESOMESEX! NOW! please?
I rarely do these tests ![]() (oh wait, I don't get the blond hair, i just get the personality? hmmmmmmm) rainy saturday morningVery cold in the apartment this morning. Last night was good, better than I had anticipated. Was a surprise party for an ex's 40th, thrown by his current boyfriend. I'd love to be able to say something nasty and catty and all that, but they're a nice couple and the ex's boyfriend is sweet and its not their fault that they totally ruined my life and I havent had a decent relationship since.......... Just kidding! Actually saw 2 guys there I havent seen since the ACT UP days, and so as we were putting the pieces together of when we last saw each other, why we stopped going to meetings and actions, it was a bit tough, but not in a bad way, just in a "Can't believe so-and-so has been gone for so long" kinda way. Walking home in the rain, with Talking Head's Fear of Music playing on my discthing, I got kinda sad; no, not quite sad, but sorta nostalgic, or contemplative, about that whole late 80's/early 90's period with ACT UP - the pals who've died, the awfulness of watching them slip away, the pals I no longer see, the drive to participate in "street action" long gone; this middle-aged don't know what I want and don't know how to get it and don't want to try and be disappointed bland disillusiion creeping in (or surfacing, since its there most of the time). Dunno. I look around my apartment, and see artifacts, things that belonged to men who died way too early, and I think I'm too young to have all these things in my possession; some ordinary things like a vaccuum cleaner, book shelves, cd's; plus the more personal, signed books, lots of photographs, postcards, a few tissue-paper thin "activist" t-shirts. Some with cumstains from 10 years ago from late night backrooms and cheap beer and some bizarre sense of community from being in a sweaty tiny room with no air circulating whacking off and tasting balls only hours after some excrutiating meeting about "fighting the Church" and "fucking-up the system" and so many good people gone and you're still here.....Friday, June 14, 2002
So, I walk by this store, thinking this guy who waved me down the other day to say he reads my webpages might be there ( we chatted for awhile, and he said to stop by sometime). He's not there, but his partner is, and we're chatting, and he's got Gang of Four playing (yeah!) and they had each told me they're giving up the stores and heading out of town soon. I asked about cheap chairs, since I thought the other store had cool chairs, and he points to a pair of Henry Miller chairs, assures me they are comfy and all for long hours at the computer, I sit down (on the stacked pair, I'm fairly stoopid, but you knew that already) and I immediately grab the handles below the seat and go "OH! Blowjob chairs!" Nervous laughter from the saleman as I continue "You just hold on real tight right here, makes your arms look real good, lean back...." Well, as you can see, I am now the proud owner. Trouble is, I think for my plan to work, I'll need to find another guy....... (stoopid, stoopid, stoopid...)
Weird, wild stuff. 2 of the pics are from my blog archives, but what the hell does this mean?
So I'm surfing through the AOL chatrooms, and I suddenly get all excited. I spot ORAL3WAY in a chat room, and it sounds like just what i need - oral sex (which I love), 2 other cocks (which means no commitments, no needless pleasantries), then I realize DAMN!!! - that's my own, new AOL screenname! Fuck I'm stoopid! So, I figured it was time to get back to the more "real" world of pornography.....
From Nova Films - MAIN ATTRACTION. Jeff Scott is walking by a bar, peers inside and sees hunky Bo Richards working in the empty bar. He goes in, orders a beer, and immediately imagines a "hot scene" - which of course is Bo dancing! I wish I could show the whole 4 minute dance sequence, but this will have to do. (Sorry, clip taken down!) Thursday, June 13, 2002
Wednesday, June 12, 2002
speaking of "music", I came home the other night, grabbed a pint of something (not beer), a bag of something salty, and whatever ![]() Men who have not (yet) been my boyfriend, pt. 2Ok, this guy was a bit shy. Or, more truthfully, I was too shy to take too many snaps while he was looking in my direction, and the few that I snapped, came out poorly. This guy was working with one other construction guy in the school playground on the other side of my apartment building. He was working for 3-4 days, installing some new fancy multi-colored playground, including that soft rubbery flooring. What a face on this one! And to see him sweating while working, slurpalicious! One day I'm walking down the stairs, and I hear him and the other guy chatting, I look out the window, and the other guy says something like "naw, naw, don't go anywhere, just use this" and hands him some sort of container; the (pictured) guy turns to his van, opens the door, and with his back to me, unzips and goes. Well, a roll of film later, this is the best pic I got.Tuesday, June 11, 2002
Men who have not (yet) been my boyfriend For those of you into younger men - I just found this Johan Paulik animated gif gallery! (and yes, I have some Falcon International videos up on eBay this week). I don't know why I'm single, I have soooooooo much love to give! Translation: I am the blackhole of emotional need, and I will suck the lifeforce out of you. - paraphrasing Elayne Boosler (hell, at least I still have my sense of humor)
sadness is taking hold again. I hope it's just the early morning thing, but it's been several days, and, well, it ain't just mornings when I feel it. Obsessing about past relationships, about how I seem to be clueless when it's going very different for the other guy. A few years back, while in some ways I should've known it wasn't going so well, some signs were there, but they could've been explained by other things. Anyway, that's all kinda vague, I guess. But, I remember his sisters were coming to town to visit for a few days, and they decided to check out the Bronx Zoo. And I was invited to come along. I hadn't met anyone in his family, nor he anyone in mine, so this was a big deal for me. One of those nerve-racking big deals. But I tried to remain calm, and not think too much about how boring I'd be, and unimpressed they'd be with me, and tried to focus more on how much I love the zoo, and it was a beautiful June day. I got to his apartment, and the sisters had just gone out to get bagels and coffee, so we had a few minutes alone. A few smooches, a little playfulness, and I could tell he seemed a bit nervous, too. They came back to the apartment, introductions went well, and we were soon off on to the subway for the ride from Queens, through Manhattan, up to the Bronx. It turned out to be a great day. They were both really nice women, actually closer to my age than his, and the day progressed such that the 4 of us spent much of it in alternating pairs - me and him, me and sister #1, me and sister #2, and back and forth. The zoo was rather crowded, but I know my way around enough, and found the more out-or-the way spots, and we were exhausted by the end of the day. We went back to his place, and they were going to leave in only an hour or two, driving back up to Boston. I left, giving them some time together, but planned on meeting the boyfriend later. Home alone, I was high as a kite - they seemed to really like me, I was amazed (and relieved) at how much I dug each of them, and it just seemed like a "big step" in the relationship, you know, getting to know the family. When we had dinner, he seemed a bit out of sorts, but I didn't take it personally, as he'd been working long hours, and it was a long day of being on our feet. We even had a stupid argument over something, and it wasn't like us to argue. Still, I brushed it aside. We didn't spend the night together, he had an early day, and needed to get home. He called Friday, and we made plans to get together Saturday evening. It wasn't my kind of "date" - roaming around the West Village and having a beer at this bar, then that one, but it was the day before the Gay Pride March (Parade) so I figured, what the heck. Still a bit distant, he seemed pre-occupied, but he wasn't much of a talker, and I wasn't in the mood for forcing someone to open up, I prefer the old "I'm here when you need me" kinda thing. That night we spent together, at my place, but he passed out without taking his clothes off. At one point in the night, I tried taking his shorts off, and he woke up, all grumpy. I tried to explain that his belt was digging at me, but he just turned and faced the wall, hugging the wall basically, as far away in the bed from me as possible. Obviously, not a good sign. I was worried, quite worried at this point, and didn't sleep much at all. He managed a good sleep, lots of snoring, but still way over on the other end of the bed, and other than that night, we always slept together, some sort of interlocking body thing going on, often my head on his shoulder, arms around each other. And he slept late. Very late, hangover, the whole thing as I tiptoed around my own apartment. And then the talk. A fairly brief talk, with little explanation and just short of the old "it's not you its me" thing. I did my usual, trying to console him since he was obviously troubled. Then when he was clearly not into talking about it, I got angry, and tried finding every bit of his clothing in my apartment to give to him. This pissed him off, he seemed to think he could get that stuff another time, as if dumping me was merely a change in the type of relationship, not an actual end to it. I yelled, he got mad, I apologized, and then got very quiet, as it started to really sink in. I was fairly immobile at that point, and he exited, with the bag of t-shirts, boxers and socks I shoved at him. By this time it was mid-afternoon, and all my friends were out, Sunday afternoon of Gay Pride Day. So I had to spend those first few hours crying alone, before I found someone to cry in front of. Ugh. I hate June. Monday, June 10, 2002
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Sunday, June 09, 2002
My gym just called me. How embarrasing - "Mr. BJ, you haven't been to the gym since, oh my, it says here since AUGUST! Is anything wrong?" I made some jokes, he politely laughs, then of course he gets to the sales pitch. They are expanding, new location, and as a valued member (translation: one who pays fees, but never goes) they are offering me some special deal on adding on a year. I'm actually considering doing it, mostly so that they don't start this weekly calling me thing like they did last year. I got him to agree to some sort of orientation thingee, cuz I'm totally clueless what to do once I get there (I know, if its heavy, lift it). Meanwhile, I haven't left the house since I got home at 2 a.m. with 2 pints of ice cream in my hand and 3 beers in my belly. Hmmm, maybe I should call the guy back with my credit card info, eh? Saturday, June 08, 2002
Someone remind me to write up something about the 5 Wakefield Poole films being shown at Anthology Film Archives later this month (June 19th - 23rd) (the films: Boys In The Sand (1971) , Bijou (1972), The Bible (1973), Moving (1974), and Take One (1977) ). I'll probably see 3 or 4 (I've seen Boys plenty, but Bijou is trippy and what's his name's cock is so big. Moving only plays once, and I want to see if Casey Donovan really gets fisted by Val Kilmer, er, Val Martin, in that one (not that I'm in to that sort of thing or anything...) oh yeah, and I should update the Poole page, as I have an interview or two with him form old porn mags, and the Anthology calendar had some more tidbits about the films...
..........there are two unattractive men outside my window, painting the fire escape. My estimation of them is probably not helped by the COLT video playing on the vcr. Friday, June 07, 2002
Boarding School Hero, supposed to take place in a military boarding school, once again shows either a) gay men can't dance; or b) rock 'n' roll leads to gay sex. You decide. blogslut
....so I've had a few beers, so what? It's raining lightly in that great late night quiet everything down kinda way. These sesame pretzels are really good, but I'll bet they're not exactly health-food. And I'm really a face-man, I keep learning over and over again; I can never get enough of a good face (facial hair on a good face is a big plus, of course). I saw a great face tonight; it looked great before I had the first beer. But of course, it took several beers before I ..... it was really nice walking home in the rain, big smile, my North Face rain coat I got for that Iceland trip so many years ago wrapped around me snuggly, with the big inside pocket holding my discthing pumping (yes, of course) The The remix discmusic into my ears, slowly walking home, enjoying the wind, and rain, and sounds of Matt Johnson trying so hard to be cynical, but somehow joyful........ I suppose i should just raid the fridge and call it a night.... Thursday, June 06, 2002
Here I am carefully posting a link to blogwhore game central and in this same post mentioning that Philo of East/West (and only Philo of East/West) is the contestant I'm supporting, since yesterday he said tomorrow is the deadline, which would mean today, right? Wrong! I read it yesterday, but he posted in 3 days ago, so I am 2 days late - the story of my f*&k+# life.......... This is why I am not a joiner, and I dont have a subway stop on that nycblogpage.
Wednesday, June 05, 2002
still going crazy over THE THE REMIX MANIA; still on emotional rollercoaster. might have pics for later, or non-sex porno clip, or if I'm in a good mood (ha!), both.
The shade's pulled, the sweat is from our bodies struggling against each other, trying to find the perfect spot, and we're getting hotter and wetter. This song comes on just as you try to lift yourself up on your elbows. I push your face down into the pillow, the belt that was strewn on the floor a few minutes ago will work just fine for your hands, our discarded jockstraps work well on each on your feet. I get an ice cube, and drop it on the small of your back as you yell out, then push my goatee down into it and into that hairy spot just above your ass that I love so much, the warmth and pressure of my mouth melting it as we listen........ Tuesday, June 04, 2002
"You got a cockring?" I stifled my laugh, knowing no matter where you are in my apartment, you'd be within arm's reach of one. "Here", I said as I offered him the one in front of me, ignoring the 2 that were closer to him. He quickly snapped it on as I tried to get the webcam ready. I cautioned him again that the quality wouldn't be so great, but he had no pics for his AOL'ing, and he figured anything was better than nothing. Only 20 minutes earlier, we were on line chatting, me teasing this stranger about not having a picture, then offering to take some snapshots. He got here fast enough, slurping on some blue newfangled Gatorade as I loaded the Intel. As soon as he saw the image on my computer screen, he started taking clothes off, socks, boxers, everything. Gosh, these young guys sure ain't shy! After about 12 pictures, he said "enough" and we sat together as I made a folder, then emailed them to him, and instructed him how to then send them to potential "dates." Hmmm, should I be helping this "married" man cheat? He said it was by mutual agreement with his boyfriend, and of course it wasn't my problem. Turning to him, I could see that he was indeed a grower, and I figured I could use a closer look at his hairy balls. Still fully clothed, I managed to stay sitting in my desk chair while getting him to make some very encouraging sounds, and he started pulling at my clothes. He seemed to like what he was uncovering, so I made a point of making it difficult for him, pretending not to notice his efforts, and concentrating more on my efforts. Then we traded places, my boxers somewhere on the floor, and now I was making the encouraging sounds. He said something about the bedroom, and tossed my freshly done laundry off the bed and onto the floor. Funny, online I was fairly indifferent, and even warned him that it would "just be for taking pictures", but somehow, with no expectations, my body was responding very quickly, not at all it's usual shy self, and he was grinning pretty wide looking in my direction. Then, suddenly, he's on all fours, with his butt sticking up in the air! I looked down, shrugged, and just dove in, my stomach against his ass, my cock against his balls, my face against the back of his sweaty neck. I started nibbling at the tattoo on his upper back, and pumping my lower body into him. My mouth on his left ear at this point, I whispered "I haven't any idea what I'm doing right now", and collapsed in laughter. He thought it was funny, too, and then we moved towards something more mutually appealing. Standing over him, it took me a few seconds to realize that the blue moving towards my balls was his Gatorade tongue............ Monday, June 03, 2002
Oh, what a perfect day
To think about my silly world My feet are firmly screwed to the floor What is there to fear from such a regular world? Sunday, June 02, 2002
long live digital bootleggingwow. people can be sooooooooooo nice!these remixes KICK ASS! And its not the margueritas talkin, neither!
......awwwww, one buddy forced me to go out and walk around the neighborhood a short while ago, and another one is forcing me to have cheap Margueritas at Benny's in 30 minutes (which is to say I will be totally useless, but really really accomodating to any visitors, wink wink, in about 90 minutes). Such good pals. But, since I am such a horrible person about emails (sometimes I reply within seconds, sometimes I'm so lazy it takes a week) I'd like to thank all the kindly folks who sent such great vibes my way the past 3 days - begging for attention does work, apparently! And then this fantastic book fell into my lap yesterday, and it was like the most perfectest thing imaginable, for like 6 zillion reasons, helping to put things into perspective, and remind me what's important to me, and even more so, to remind me what a fantastic pal I have in Western Kansas. I really need to head out there someday, eh?
ok, so my plans to go to the QUEENS GAY PRIDE festival aint a-happnin' (I'm a lazy fuck, and I cant figure out how to get there). So, I've decided to clean house, and stay home all day and feel sorry for myself. Which of course should include poking fun at my fellow AOL'ers (but since I am only semi-evil, I will merely link to them, without commentary) nycperfectbod evpartynow nycleatherplay devilnextdr bigtop3 nycpunkescort (ok. I admit it, this one I just wish i could afford,,,,hehehe)
so, it's been like 2 months since I've looked into AOL chatrooms, and of course there's nothing exciting to report from them, as usual. I had one "conversation" with a guy Friday night, where every other response (mine included) was "cool" Not exactly a great way to get a relationship going, so we both gave up fairly quickly. And it's particularly dangerous to look into AOL NYC chatrooms on a Sunday morning, since the only folks likely to strike up any sort of conversation have been up for the past 12 hours+, and are high on some sort of dick-limping drug. And while I know at my advanced age I shouldn't be so picky, do you think spelling in these AOL profiles should count? Like, this one guy, who's supposed to be a bus driver (uniform sex.......mmmmmmmmm), he's got this in his profile: Hobbies: gardening look walks and quite even and then there's Takeiteasy934, who keeps typing in the room - anyone into phone? - c'mon, shouldn't you use a phone sex line for that (I prefer the Daddy line - 212-688-5625) ..... in other news, I'm selling some cockrings again - and I could use a new model or two, so volunteers should let me know (don't worry, I won't photograph your face, I'm only interested in your genitals). So far two are being offered, just find the "auctions" link above, and follow it to NaughtyBids. Oh, and I'm starting to worry about one of those Seinfled "When Worlds Collide" episodes happening in my own life. Not that there's a relationship BJ anywhere in sight to be concerned about, but I'm starting to meet people who know me from this page (just yesterday I'm peddling up Ave B and hear "HEY BJ!", and I only turned cuz I thought it was an offer). So, I wonder if I actually got some sort of interesting personal life going, how would I handle it here? I gave it some thought a few weeks back, when it seemed like a possibility, and figured I could still keep this going without really endangering any sort of privacy I would want to maintain in regards to another guy. Like the "shower memory story" about a week or two ago. I've got plenty of those stored in my head, since I have a pretty good memory for emotional stuff like how high I got on that wet man looking so good in my sun-lit bathroom, although I may well not remember his name, or exactly when it happened. But, I needn't worry about that right now, no one's pounding on the door. And just last night I realized it's been 3 weeks since actual sexual contact with another human being in the same room! I guess the good news is that a realization like that would normally get me depressed, but since lately I'm kinda looking for quality. Although............. I was trying to figure out what might be a good little sexual outing, without getting me depressed about it. Like, ideally, it would have to be someone I really dug, but, since those guys kinda flee really quickly, it would have to be someone from out of town, so I wouldn't take it personally. Or maybe a guy who's already involved, and so I could latch onto that fact, and not take it personally. Or maybe a pair of guys from out of town, who had no where to stay for 3 days, and stayed in my bed and we had hot wet sex 3 or 4 times a day until they left, and I could live off that memory for a few weeks, or months, if need be. Hmmmmmmm. Saturday, June 01, 2002
A couple of weeks ago, while watching some porno (some old NOVA classic), I once again heard some cool discofied version of a familiar song, this time it was Stevie Wonder's As. And for the next few days, I was finding myself humming this tune, so I finally attempted an audiogalaxy search for it. Not easy finding a song with a 2-letter preposition as it's title, coupled with not knowing who did it. But a few hours on Google got me there, and I was hitting my head, because the electric violin should've clued me in that it was Jean-Luc Ponty - so here's his version of As. Even better in some ways was the surprise that back in 1986, Sylvester did a fantastic cover of Stevie's Living For the City. Then, a week or two ago, I'm telling all this to a friend, and he says, "Sylvester? Hmmm, you're saying that's a guy? Can't say I really know who that is" - sheeesh, men under 40 ......... |