Showing posts with label Gay erotica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gay erotica. Show all posts

Tuesday, 5 November 2024

Weapons of mass destruction


Happy Bonfire Night! Enjoy the fireworks...

As well as watching all nine episodes of Agatha All Along on Saturday, John-John also dug out an old "X-Men" movie I hadn't seen - X-Men: First Class, that ostensibly covers the "origin story" of the mutant superhero team.

It has many flaws - not least playing "fast-and-loose" with the original comics version, including characters that were only written decades after the original team's debut, and dropping other integral characters altogether, which infuriated me throughout.

It might have helped if the dialogue, (some of) the acting, and the zig-zagging plot had been better. At times towards the end, I felt like I was reliving the utterly dreadful Independence Day, but with mutants.

It really comes to something when the best performance in the entire film was given by the lovely Michael Fassbender's impressive groinage! My kind of mutation....


Speaking of groinage...

It would have been Robert Mapplethorpe's birthday yesterday.

His 1989 touring exhibition The Perfect Moment, a retrospective following his death, caused huge furore and much clutching of pearls over the inclusion of the rather charming "Man in Polyester Suit" [as featured, left] (among other somewhat near-the-knuckle photos).

Portrayals of gay erotica were anathaema to the establishment in the Reagan era!

The exhibition's cancellation by the Corcoran Gallery of Art in Washington provoked a censorship battle about national funding for the arts that was front-page news for the next year.

[click any pic to embiggen]


...and here's an appropriate number for the occasion:

All hail Priapus!

Thursday, 30 May 2024

Say I'm chasin' rainbows livin' in a dream


Many happy returns tomorrow to Hollywood superstar Colin Farrell! Time's a terrible thing.

Another "snippets post" today, dear reader:

Extra: A memory lane mindfuck! Can it really be thirty years this week since "The Summer of Wet Wet Wet's Love Is All Around" [which was at the top of the charts right through until September 1994] began? Terrifying.

Much better was this one, which was just heading out of the Top Ten that same week:

And now, the weather - blustery.

Wednesday, 6 March 2024

Spring! Spring! Spring!

An area of idyllic urban parkland has bloomed with spring’s first latex sign of illicit outdoor sex, it has emerged.

Resident Carolyn Ryan was walking her dogs when she spotted the used Durex Thin Feel condom knotted to the branch where it had blossomed overnight.

She said: “In the country you’d look for the first bluebells or bumblebees of the year to announce the arrival of spring. But here in a city park, the first sign is when doggers deem it warm enough for a furtive quickie against an oak tree.

“These migratory shaggers spend winter humping in public toilets and parked cars before emerging as the weather improves to make glorious al fresco love within sight of sheltered housing.

“You country folk think it’s obscene to have small bags of semen scattered around the park but it’s just part of nature’s cycle. Besides, flowers are a plant’s genitals and you’re fine with them waving their erect stamens about.

“Though the effect of climate change is concerning. The first outdoor fucks of the year used to only take place at the end of the month, but now it’s clement enough to expose your thrusting buttocks to the air at the very beginning of March.

“By 2035 this could be a year-round hook-up spot. I’d hate to see condoms force out the park’s other wonderful flora, like Special Brew cans and disposable vapes.”

The Daily Mash

Of course.

Thursday, 11 January 2024

When you want to come

As we in London continue to endure the succession of crap winter throws at us - today alone, we've gone from frost to chilly winds to depressing drizzle and back again - it's worth a mention that 2024 is another year of milestones...

This year it will be the 80th anniversary of D-Day, the 60th of BBC2 and Mary Poppins, half-a-century since Abba's Waterloo, and the 40th anniversary of my coming-out, as well as that of the "Zola Budd controversy" at the Los Angeles Olympics, the assassination of Indira Gandhi, of Band Aid, This Is Spinal Tap, Purple Rain, The Reflex, Like a Virgin, Ghostbusters...and this lot!

For it was indeed on this very day in 1984 that "saintly" DJ Mike Read declared Frankie Goes to Hollywood's Relax to be disgusting, and refused to play it (swiftly followed by an "official ban" by the BBC)!

Here's how I first featured it, way back in 2011:

"There’s nothing that great about sex - never was. What usually comes from it? Sweat, fatigue, and dirty linens, then later unwanted pregnancies, and, of course, today there’s the health angle.

As for gay sex in particular: Nothing’s really that great about it. It’s very uncomfortable and many times vastly more complex than lovemaking in heterosexual counterparts.

When a boy and girl decide they are going to have sex, they roughly know what to expect. But before two men have sex, they practically have to hold a board meeting in order to figure out the agenda of what they’re going to do."
- Quentin Crisp
Really?


Not according to Frankie...

Wednesday, 10 August 2022

Someone read my Amazon list...

...and got a perfect birthday delivery pour moi!

Thursday, 17 February 2022

Public Service Announcement

When going for a boat trip, always make sure your inflatables are to hand!

Tuesday, 26 October 2021

There is nothing wrong with helping a buddy out

A Public Service Announcement:

Etiquette, etiquette, etiquette...

Any excuse, really, to play an old, old favourite!

I never tire of it...

Wednesday, 22 September 2021

Homework

Sunday, 29 November 2020

Overtures, beginners and bulges

In honour of Mr Joseph Clois Shivers Jr, born one hundred years ago today, I have excavated a real treat from the vaults

Who? I hear you ask...

...occupying a place in many gayers' hearts (and other places), Mr Shivers' lasting legacy is the fact that he invented Lycra!

Take it away, boys!

Well, that's my afternoon's exercise regime sorted...

Thursday, 8 October 2020

Sex under the bed

Whoever would have thought that a stash of more than 400 gay erotic paintings and drawings, hidden for years under the bed of a retired theatre designer, would have an estimated value of around £2 million?!

Certainly not, I'd imagine, their creator the artist Duncan Grant - despite his fame and notoriety as part of the celebrated and bohemian Bloomsbury Group - living, as he did, through an era when homosexuality in Britain was not merely illegal, but actively persecuted by the Establishment. [He lived long enough to see the partial decriminalisation of homosexuality in 1967, but even at the time of his death in 1978 it was still against the law if you were under 21, and discrimination against gay people was still rife, especially in the tabloids].

Yet today, as the news that this impressive collection has been donated to the curators of the house where Grant lived - with Vanessa Bell, by whom he had a child, and his lover David "Bunny" Garnett; and later with another partner, Paul Roche - Charleston, it turns out to be the most important single donation to the collection to date.

The media are typically coy about showing the pictures in their entirety, especially Auntie Beeb:

However, for your delectation, here's just a small selection of what joys will be on display once Charleston raises the money to re-open:

I somehow doubt that any of my vintage copies of Vulcan magazine are worth that much.

Tuesday, 30 June 2020

Thursday, 2 January 2020

Thought for the Day



At last!

Something on the telly worth watching...

Tuesday, 24 December 2019

It ain't no sin



Not so much "another piece of my childhood" as a formative influence on my entire gay life - the pioneering gay porn film director and producer William Higgins, founder of the legendary Catalina Video label and the man behind such well-loved titles as The Young & The Hung, The Pizza Boy: He Delivers, Big Guns and Route 69, has died.

His - ahem - classic output was a mainstay of my under-the-bed VHS collection, and he made "household names" [in certain households, anyhow] of a cavalcade of perfectly proportioned - ahem - actors such as Kip Noll, Chad Johnson, Rick Donovan, Christopher Lance, Kevin Wiles, Chad Douglas, Cory Monroe, Mike Henson, Jeff Stryker and (my fave) Kevin Williams, among many more "shags-that-never-were".

RIP William Higgins, aka "Wim Hof" (19th December, 1942 - 20th December 2019)

Another of my fabled convoluted connections exists between this sad news and the continuing Festering Season countdown. By complete coincidence I had already scheduled another "throwback" rediscovery from my continuing trawl through the annals [oo-er!] of this blog (repairing broken links as I go) - and it's a perfect fit. From December 2013... this!
...to make our "festering season" really special, it seems appropriate to dispense with this religious claptrap and offend as many people as possible.

But it seems Kenny and Mr Hankey from South Park have beaten us to it!
And just in case anyone failed to understand the eloquent Kenny...
Mr. Hankey: Howdy Ho!
The Virgin Mary was sleeping when Angel Gabriel appeared,
He said, "You are to be the virgin mother"
And Mary thought that was weird.

Kenny: Mary said "I'm not a virgin, I blew a guy last year"

Mr. Hankey: But then Gabriel said to Mary,
"My child, have no fear."

Kenny: 'Cause you can suck all the dick you want...

Together: And still be a virgin, Mary!

Kenny: You can suck all the dick you want...

Mr. Hankey: And still not be considered flawed.

Kenny: Although you went to town, and sucked some semen down,

Together: You're still a virgin in the eyes of God.

Mr. Hankey: There was no room at the inn
When Mary and Joseph did arrive
They were so very tired you see

Kenny: and Mary had to offer a bribe,

Mr. Hankey: Since she had no money

Kenny: How would she pay for a place to sleep?

Mr. Hankey: Gabriel appeared to Mary and told her not to weep

Kenny: 'Cause, you can suck all the dick you want...
And still be a virgin, Mary!

Kenny: You can suck all the dick you want...

Mr. Hankey: And still be the mother of Christ.

Together: If there's no room at the inn
Then it's not considered a sin

Kenny: To suck some dick to get a room for the night!

Mr. Hankey: That's right!
And three wise men did appear
Bearing gifts of myrrh and such
They said that they had followed a star
And missed a woman's touch

Kenny: Mary thought she might pleasure them, but could not take them to bed,

Mr. Hankey: But again Gabriel appeared to her and this is what he said

Kenny: You can suck all the dick you want...

Together: And still be a virgin, Mary!

Kenny: You can suck all the dick you want...

Mr. Hankey: Every one in the nation.

Kenny: Fellatio ain't no sin
She gonna blow those three wise men,

Mr. Hankey: And you'll still be a virgin

Kenny: 'Cause there was no penetration

Kenny: You can suck all the dick you want...

Together: And still be a virgin, Mary!

Kenny: That donkey, and the ox and the lamb...

Mr. Hankey: And even the little drummer boy.
Folks will remember your name quick.

Kenny: They'll say "Damn! that bitch could suck a good dick!"

Together: Cause sucking dick brings peace on Earth and joy!

Kenny: Cause sucking dick...

Mr. Hankey: ..brings peace on Earth and joy!

Kenny: Mary, Mary suck that dick!
So seasonal.

Saturday, 24 August 2019

If you want what's forbidden, baby that's what I got



The Greek rustic fertility god and a protector of gardens, fruit plants, livestock and male genitals, Priapus is marked by his oversized, permanent erection, which gave rise to the medical term priapism. He became a popular figure in Roman erotic art and Latin literature... his sacrificial animal was the ass (but agricultural offerings such as fruit, flowers, vegetables and fish were also very common).

At the end of a lovely hot and sticky day (mainly in the garden), I think we should make an offering - and who better to deliver it than the much-missed Pete Burns?


Indeed.

Thursday, 29 November 2018

More suspect meat than a late-night kebab



It is rare these days that I actually laugh out loud at a theatrical review in a newspaper - but the piece by Sharon Lougher in today's Metro was a good 'un:
‘ARE YOU ready to get more suspect meat than a late-night kebab?’ is the clarion call that comes (sorry) at the start of Magic Mike Live.

‘Whoooooooo!’ came (again, sorry) the inevitable response from a tanked-up, oestrogen-rich Tuesday night crowd, who were about to witness a Loose Woman’s wet dream.

Theatre, this ain’t. Neither is it, in terms of plot, the live version of Magic Mike the film, starring Channing Tatum, who produces and directs here.

Instead, Magic Mike Live, which sold out its first dates in double-quick time, is unapologetically just a strip show. But it is one that comes (oh I give up) with high production values. In a specially converted space inside the Hippodrome, men with five-star abs (they’re rock-solid, which I know, because I touched them - it’s allowed) and six-star eye contact (aaargh) dance, grind, play instruments and do aerial acrobatics either above you, around you, on stage or in your face.

If you’re not tactile and really don’t want a stranger thrusting his crotch at you on a school night there is a safe word: unicorn. A more useful instruction for such people might be ‘try Antony & Cleopatra at the National’.
Ha!

And, loathe as I am to feature gratuitous objectification of male flesh...


Cover me in honey, and just throw me in!

Friday, 7 September 2018

The Ultimate Macho Icon


That infamous centrefold for Cosmopolitan in 1972.

Oh dear. Rounding off the week on a bit of a sad note, the man whose ruggedness and unashamed "sex-symbol" status almost single-handedly spawned not only the concept of "soft porn for women", but also inspired a whole generation of "butch" gay "clones" - all lumberjack shirts, bulgingly tight denims and bushy 'taches; they dominated certain sectors of "the scene" throughout the '70s and well into the 1980s - Mr Burt Reynolds is dead.

From the intensity of Deliverance to a raft of more light-hearted films such as Silent Movie, Smokey and the Bandit, The Cannonball Run and The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, he was one of the top stars in Hollywood in the '70s and '80s - and was as famous for his off-screen life (multiple relationships with the world's most beautiful women, hard drinking and bad financial decisions) as he was for his on-screen charisma.

He inevitably "burned out" from his own excesses, going bankrupt in 1996. But the very next year, he resurfaced in the notorious (but critically well-received) Boogie Nights - the one with Mark Wahlberg and the enormous penis - and recovered his credibility somewhat. He suffered ill-health in his latter years, and his last role as the eponymous "hero" in The Last Movie Star may well have been autobiographical...

From the soundtrack of Boogie Nights, here's an appropriate number with which to pay tribute to the "hairy one", and with which to round off another intensely dreary week - Thank Disco It's Friday!


RIP, Burton Leon Reynolds Jr. (11th February 1936 – 6th September 2018)

Tuesday, 1 May 2018

Hooray Hooray

...the first of May:

Outdoor sex begins today!


Gore Vidal and friend

Tuesday, 6 March 2018

Thought for the Day



"Faster than a speeding bullet!"

Apparently.

Sunday, 3 December 2017

Big Finnish



The demon spawn upstairs have gone out for the afternoon, which is cause in itself for celebration and relaxation.

Even more opportune, then, is the fact that there is a centenary in the offing - Finland became an independent state on 6th December 1917*.

Here, to send the shivers up your spine, is a most magnificent piece by that country's most famous composer Jean Sibelius...


Oh, that's better.

*Birthday Kake, anyone?

Wednesday, 18 October 2017

I'd like to put you in a trance



Timeslip moment again...

We've beamed down in this week 25 years ago, in 1992: HM the Queen's annus horribilis (with the divorce of Ann and Cap'n Mark, the scandalous split of Andy'n'Fergie, the separation of Charles and Di and the near-destruction of parts of the historic Windsor Castle, her favourite palace); the year of Boris Yeltsin, the BCCI banking scandal, Steffi Graf, the Barcelona Olympics, Damien Hirst's "shark", PM John Major (who won the general election), the Maastricht Treaty, Betty Boothroyd, Euro Disney, the Lost Gardens of Heligan, Nigel Mansell, the dismantling of Yugoslavia, the Los Angeles riots, the election of President Bill Clinton, and the births of Miley Cyrus, Cara Delevingne - and Ab Fab.

In the news in October 1992: the fallout from so-called "Black Wednesday" (the UK's withdrawal from the European Exchange Rate Mechanism) continued, fuelling a continuing recession; protest rallies were held in Washington to challenge the Bush administration's lack of action on AIDS (and the AIDS Memorial Quilt was born); there were protests, too, in the UK about the planned closure of a string of coal mines and over 30,000 job losses; the Mozambique civil war finally ended after sixteen years; a huge earthquake in Cairo killed 543 people and injured more than 6,500; in the ascendant were Lithuania (which held a referendum on its first democratic constitution since it seceded from the former Soviet Union), the Cartoon Network (the world's first TV channel devoted to animation) and Sinéad O'Connor (who ripped up a photo of Pope John Paul II on Saturday Night Live); but we bade our sad farewells to the multi-talented actor Denholm Elliott. In our cinemas: Patriot Games, Beauty and the Beast and Strictly Ballroom. On telly: Later... with Jools Holland, Gladiators and The Big Breakfast.

And in the UK charts? At the top of the heap at #1 was "one-hit wonder" Tamsin Archer with Sleeping Satellite; also present and correct in the Top Ten were Bizarre Inc, Boyz II Men, The Shamen, Dr Alban, Simple Minds, Prince, Take That, Undercover and Doctor Spin (whooo?). But, just landed - and about to cause a media shit-storm - was Our Glorious Leader Queen Madge, with this all-time smutty classic...


Can it really be a quarter of a century since we first met "Dita"...?