“…one of those faces, maybe…”

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I don't think I ever meant for this much to be a consistent part of my life, but since it's not going away anytime soon, I'm not going to bitch about it.

There are a few too many men that I've met only after seeing them naked and aroused, if not actively engaged and drenched in semen. This used to not be a thing, and I'm ( Read more... )

I've been working my way through a back catalog of vintage gay and straight porn, building an archive to supplement/refine some other extant porn databases.  Just killing time, really.

I'm up to about 1974 right now, though I'm really skipping around, working through themes, specific performers, or whatever caprice enters my thick little head.

The ( Read more... )

I’m not pro-barebacking, but that doesn’t mean that this shit ain’t funny.


Just not as funny as some other things on Funny or Die.

Here’s how I know that heterosexist people are full of it:

Throughout the history of modern straight pornography (starting with, as Katie Gold’s writers at HBO suggest, 1970’s Mona, the Virgin Nymph), there have been more than a few films set partially or wholly in capital-h Hell.

To the best of my knowledge, not one of them depicts gay men living ( Read more... )

In examining the history of porn, I am truly astounded at the power of buttsex as conflict resolution tool.

More stuff I do to kill time waiting for Dory to need lugging around the house when I should be looking for a new apartment.
( Whatever happened to straight porn’s Jenny Baxter, anyway? Don’t worry, it’s SFW, just large. )

( Read more... )

Title three menu from a gay retro compilation VHS-rip DVD.


( Read more... )

I think it’s called craftiness.

Somewhere just short of creativity.  I don’t think of it as actual creativity, because it’s more a question of making things from random parts rather than building from scratch.

And it serves more of a practical purpose than an aesthetic one.

Giving myself something to do that distracts me from being depressed about the ( Read more... )

Laura Mulvey’s unfairly narrow obsession with patriarchal noxiousness is working my last nerve today.

I swear, if I were at all motivated and/or not so fucking lazy, I would take tweezers to “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema” and extract something so non-heteronormative as to find where it meets Foucault and explains where gay sexual ( Read more... )