Monday, July 28, 2008

Remembered Pleasure I

The other day, I was at work, chatting with a friend and we were discussing great sex. The conversation of course caused me to reflect back on the best sex I ever had and to shudder with remembered pleasure...

In September 2000, I was on vacation in Los Angeles. I was supposed to meet this guy I had been chatting with for a couple of months. From our conversation, it was clear that we were going to do it, but I was not prepared for the intensity.

He arrived 4 hours late and although I was pissed, we still went out. He took me to the Santa Monica pier and we walked all around. The stars were out and I think it was a full moon. We were walking along the water's edge and suddenly the moment became very romantic. We kissed under the stars, right there on the beach in Santa Monica, in front of God and everyone.

I was staying at a shitty little EconoLodge back in downtown LA and we headed back there as fast as we could. Back in my room, we explored each others bodies and he shivered every time i touched him. When I first started playing with his ass, he shreiked and put a pillow in his mouth to keep from screaming to loud. He was a great kisser and loved straddling me so he could kiss my lips and neck while I fingered him. That only made me want him even more. He produced alot of lubrication (the kids call is santorum now, after the anti-gay senator), so much so that the bed was literally soaked. I didnt have to use any lube when I fucked him.

Entering him for the first time was like putting on a pair of tight gloves. He started crying and I thought I had hurt him, but he told me he sometimes cried when it felt really good. We fucked all over that room, in every position. When the sensation got too much for him he would collapse under me, a problem I solved by making him kneel in a chair so he couldn't get away. I fucked him for so long in that chair that my leg got numb. His screams got so loud at one point that the manager knocked on the door because of complaints. We even knocked the headboard off the wall.

We spent the whole week together, fucking in the hotel room, at his aunt's house, foolling around in my rental car and at the Griffith Observatory. It was more than just sex though, we had a really good time in each other's company. He was smart and funny and literate and if we lived on the same coast, we both knew that we would be together. We were logical though, and knew that we had to enjoy it while it lasted.

And so it was, that in the summer of my 29th year, that I experienced my first, and so far only, summer love affair.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Hollywood Royalty

Mommie Dearest is one of my favorite movies. Check out this tribute...







Saturday, July 26, 2008

I would rather walk on my lips

than criticize, but Madonna looks terrible...

Is this what the kids call "Crypt Keeper Chic"?
Get into Lourdes' unibrow.
Very Classy, the two of them

Thursday, July 24, 2008

More on Wacko (Jesse) Jacko

When Jesse Jackson uttered his now-infamous words a couple of weeks ago, it seemed to come out of left field. I mean, what would motivate him to do say a thing?

Today we have an answer: guilt (I know you thought i was going to say stupidity, but that goes without saying)

As you may recall, gentle reader, the REVEREND Jackson
acknowledged fathering a child out of wedlock back in 2001. Well, apparently, Senator Obama's words to a black church on Father's Day struck too close to home: "We need fathers to recognize that responsibility doesn't just end at conception."

At the time of his acknowledgement, he declared that he has provided "emotional and financial support" since her birth. "As her mother does, I love this child very much". The child's mother paints a different
picture. Karin Stanford says her daughter has little or no contact with the Jackson family and even throws a little shade, saying that even if there was contact, it would have to be chaperoned because the family is so dysfunctional.

So there we have it. I am sure Sen. Obama wasn't even thinking of Jesse when he gave that speech, but it appears to have had some effect on at least one father.

Thanks to the Enquirer for the article.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

The Ever-Shrinking Closet

I just finished reading Newsweek's cover story on the life and death of Lawrence King, the California teenage who was murdered, ostensibly for being gay.

I have always had an active imagination. When I was a child I used to pretend I was a superhero, or more accurately, a superheroine. She was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes, which was odd, considering her alter ego was a chubby black child from PG County, Maryland.

If you accept the premise that your fantasy world is your truest expression of how you wish the real world were, did that mean that I wanted to be a woman? That I was gay? If that young child were living today, would he have come out like Lawrence King did at the age of 10?

The question is, does anyone know enough about themselves to make that leap at so young an age, or are they marking themselves and setting themselves up for a life of torment? I am not excusing any type of bullying, but let's be real. When you are in school, you will get teased if you exhibit any degree of difference, and its not like it necessarily gets better when you are an adult. A grown-ass woman had to shoot a man a couple of weeks ago because he kept taunting her about being a lesbian. (a violent lesbian? I know, SHOCKING!)

Larry King did way more than just come out. He started dressing like a girl, and even went so far as to start taunting the other boys in school, accusing them of liking him. He even went so far as to make sexual comments to the other boys in the locker room. Yet, for all the bravado and professed "Out and Proud"-ness, he, by his own admission, had never kissed a boy. So was he really even gay?

The devil's advocate would say that you don't have to have ever kissed the odjects of your desire to declare your sexual orientation. There are plenty of straight men and women (well, some) who are virgins into their early 20s, but the fact that they were straight was never in question, and it shouldn't be. To be blunt, being straight is THE NORM. You don't have to prove it, it is assumed. There is no litmus test for it.

There is, however, such a test for being gay. To quote the philosopher Andrew "Dice" Clay, "You either suck dick, or you do not suck dick!" Yes it's not as simple as that, but you get my point. You can't (or better yet, shouldn't) call yourself gay until you have done some gay things. Maybe young Larry was a budding transvestite. He might have been grown up to be straight(ish) but just got a sexual thrill out of putting on women's clothing and accoutrements. Maybe he wasn't mature enough and didn't have enough life experience to fully understand what he was feeling.

And what about the adults in his life?

His adoptive father (Larry came from a bad family situation? Yes I know, SHOCKING!) never believed his son was gay. Well, he may not have been totally gay, but something was happening that required more than a knee-jerk reaction.

The teachers and administration at his school were split, with some believing Larry was violating the dress code by dressing as a girl, and even possibly bullying the other kids with his constant sexual taunts. Others believed in his right to free expression. One even gave him a dress when he came out to her. (Inappropriate much?) Then there was the out lesbian administrator who seemed to be Larry's main source of support and his advocate. Reports are that she encouraged Larry's behavior (a militant dyke? I know, SHOCKING! just kidding, I love the lesbians!).

Larry's life and death is a prime example of why I wish more men would come out, to give better role models to these young kids. They need to know that every gay man is not effeminate and/or has any desire to dress as women. Now don't get me wrong, I really and truly have no problem with men who are fem or trannies, but again, let's keep it real. When you express yourself a certain way, you are setting yourself up for drama. That's fine for a grown man, but for a kid, it can be a matter of life and death. In Lawrence King's case, it was death.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

They Can't Take Her!!!

Get into this clip of Omarosa letting Wendy Williams have it.



I love it!

R.I.P. Sophia

I could never figure out why I was so in love with a show about 4 old white women living in Miami. All I knew was that they were hilarious and that I hoped to have friends like that in my life.

One of those friends has passed on. Estelle Getty, known to the world as Sophia Petrillo, checked out of Shady Pines for good. I will always remember the episode when she wept over the death of her cross-dressing son, whom she never really knew.

The show was ground-breaking. It showed that one could be over 50, even over 60, and still be funny and vivacious, sexual and even happily slutty. Today, with baby boomers re-defining what it means to be over 60, that notion is not shocking, but in the mid-80s, it was revolutionary.

Thank you for being a friend...

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Allen Iverson is a BAMA!

There is a scene in the movie Soapdish where Sally Field's character Celeste, desparate for the love and affection of her fans, goes to the mall in a disguise. She brings along her confidante Rose (Whoopi Goldberg), who pretends to be a fan and "exposes" Celeste. A scene ensues and Celeste spends the next two hours basking in the love of her fans

A similar and equally ridiculous scene unfolded yesterday on U Street in front of Ben's Chili Bowl yesterday. More after the pics.
Yes, that is NBA superstar Allen Iverson standing outside of the restaurant waiting for his food. Now he could have waited inside the restaurant for his food, but he chose to post up in front of the spot and bask in the love of his fans. Based on this scene, I have deduced the following:

First, I will never eat at Allen Iverson's house. If he thinks the food at Ben's Chili Bowl is good, then obviously the food at his house must taste like crap. For a place with Chili in the name, the chili at Ben's taste like ass (and not in a good way). I defy you to eat there and not feel your arteries hardening with each bite.

Second, he could be Trade. His group of hangers-on all looked vaguely gayish, plus one of them was walking around with his ass literally hanging out. The buttcheeks were fully exposed and when he turned around you could see bush. (Baby, I tried to get pics, but Mother was so flustered by the sudden and unexpected display of male pulchritude!) Now I ask you, gentle reader, why would a "totally straight" man be showing his ass and dick on a public street to another "totally straight" man on a public street? The mind wobbles!

Third, and this is most important, he was having his Bentley detailed on a public street. This is, by definition, an act of BAMA-ry in the first degree. Being a BAMA always involves some stupidity and this scene is a textbook example. Why would one spend $100,000 (plus I'm guessing another $100,000 on a stereo system) on a luxury automobile and then allow a homeless person on the corner to wash your car with leftover pages from the Washington Post?

This is why we can't rise as a people!

Friday, July 11, 2008

I wanna cut his nuts off

Maybe if we cut Jesse Jackson's nuts off then he would shut the fuck up.


This latest flap just proves how irrelevant and out of touch and just plain stupid he is. Rule one of punditry (because thats what he is now, not a leader) is you don't say ANYTHING you wouldn't want aired publicly while you have a mike on or while you are facing a camera. The fact that he whispered the comments shows that he knew he shouldn't have been saying them in the first place.

Why shouldn't young black men be held to task for abandoning their children to be raised by their mothers? As the product of a single parent INTERRACIAL family, Senator Obama is more than qualified to speak on this issue. His comments are nothing more than an extension of a conversation that has been going on since the Million Man March when Louis Farrakhan issued a similar call to action.

Despite his inspirational 1984 presidential campaign and his successful trip to the Middle East resulting in the release of American hostages in the 90s, it is obvious that he has become a dinosaur.

As Richard Pryor might say, "That nigga is crazy!"

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

The Women

Praise the Lawd! They are re-making one of my favorite movies...

I guess I will have to get past my visceral hatred of Meg Ryan. In the meanwhile, I will comfort myself with the original from 1939. Get me a bromide, and put some gin in it!!!

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Hancock



If I tell you why this is a great movie, it would be giving too much away. Suffice it to say that this was much more than a mere comic book come to life. The first third is a little slow and silly, but the second and third acts more than make up for it. Great performances from Will Smith and Jason Bateman, and Charlize Theron shows again why she has an Oscar. This movie is well worth the money. Plus Will Smith looks good in leather. 

Two Snaps Up in a Circle!!!

Friday, July 4, 2008

Proud of My Country

"For the first time in my adult life I am proud of my country, because it feels like hope is finally making a comeback."

When Michelle Obama uttered those words, I felt her. I mean REALLY! I always imagined that at some point in my lifetime, we would have a serious black candidate for President, but I always assumed I would be an old man. I never thought it would happen this soon.

Like many black people, I have always been appreciative of the opportunities afforded me in this country. I have always been clear that i could not have the life I have in any other country (theoretically, at least). But there was always still a feeling of being an outsider, an uninvited guest grudgingly welcomed to the table who is told to make yourself at home, but to whom the unspoken message is "Don't get TOO comfortable."

And there we have it, to be proud, to fully embrace the red, white and blue is to be completely and totally comfortable with everything about this country, warts and all. It's the difference between owning and renting. Its a different level of responsibility because not only are you sitting at the dinner table, you built the table. Yes, you know the roof leaks and faucet drips, but its yours, you own it. So you love it, you show it off to your neighbors. You are proud of it.

I feel you Michelle, and for the first time in my adult life, I am proud of this country as well.

Happy Birthday, America!

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Generation Whine

The evidence is overwhelming. Kids today are pussies. A bunch of whiny little bitches that make you wonder how they will handle the inevitable disappointments sure to visit them once mommie and daddy aren't there to shield them from the tiniest bit of difficulty.

I was watching Living Lohan, the atrocious show featuring Lindsay Lohan's less talented sister (Ali), older and younger brothers (Mike and Cody) and mother (Dina). First off, Dina Lohan's face is a science project. Her nose has odd lumps and bumps and there is an overall piggish quality, but I digress. 

Ali Lohan wants to be a singer so the whole family shleps off to Vegas. While Dina and Cody are off enjoying a day in Vegas, including a private meeting with a magician and the wax museum, Ali is laying down tracks for her new record. Now, Ali is a better singer than William Hung, but that is the VERY definition of damning with faint praise. Seriously, her voice sucks but in a world where Rihanna and Britney Spears are considered singers, what more can you expect. Well, Ali is frustrated because after a day in the studio, she knows her voice sucks ass,despite the engineers and producers assurances to the contrary. As her mother is recounting their day, Ali whines about how hard it is, and how she never gets to have any fun. In a rare example of good parenting, Dina reminds her that this whole singing thing was HER choice and that it takes work.

Earlier in the week, I was watching Baby Borrowers (ok, I'm off work this week, so I have alot of free time). In this gem, teen couples have to take care of a baby for THREE days. Yes, I will admit that its difficult to take care of babies when they are your own. Add to the mix the fact that these teenagers aren't familiar with the baby's habits and routine, but after 24 hours, you would have thought that they were being waterboarded or something. More than one of them said they didn't want to participate anymore. 

What the hell is wrong with these kids? Don't they have any sense of responsibility or stick-to-it-iveness? In both cases, they had dealt with conflict or difficulty for less than 24 hours and here we go with the tears and the whining. I hate to sound like an old man, but these young people are soft. In my day, we walked to school uphill both ways, through 4 feet of snow.