Filed under: gay, porn, starfucking | Tags: fictional character starfucking, opportunities, poorly crafted filth
Several years ago, too broke to buy Christmas gifts, I wrote my best friend a novel. It’s true! But not just any novel, mind you. A pornographic Hardy Boys novel! When we stopped living together, he made a point of leaving behind any gifts I had given him in the past, and the other day I found the only physical copy of the book. It’s in manuscript form, and I had it done at Kinko’s, which means (of course) that it’s a little fucked up and one chapter starts twice and there’s some blank pages in the middle for no reason. But hey, whatever!
Anyway, the book is no good to me and actually pretty embarrassing and frankly I wouldn’t mind getting it out of my life. But if you’ve ever wanted to read about violent bathroom stall sex, brother-on-brother whoopie, or a mystery woman based loosely around Goldie Hawn’s character in Housesitter, send me something dirty. A story, some photos, something you drew on a napkin, whatever. It can be your creation or someone else’s, although if it’s someone else’s I’m going to want documentation of where you got it from (who wrote it, photographed it, whatever.) Whoever sends me the most interesting thing by next Monday at 5pm wins. E-mail your entries to yurigellerbentme@gmail.com
Filed under: books, gay, hookers, hot, music, people from rhode island, personal | Tags: art, rhode island, pride, kate bush, a newfound interest in massachusetts, solange, bearapalooza, stonewall, michael jackson, the coup, chuck barris, flickr
Two years after a hatchet-and-gun attack in a gay bar, New Bedford, Massachusetts, had its first-ever gay pride event last Saturday. New Bedford used to be one of the world’s major whaling ports, and it’s still a very surly, very Portuguese Catholic, city. (If you’re curious, it’s also the city where I bought the cutest pants ever, as it’s also become kind of an antique/vintage haven.) Here’s a tedious photo montage thing of last weekend’s events. I don’t mean that in a mean way, and I’m glad they’re doing it. But really, what a tedious photo montage thing.
San Francisco Pride, happening tomorrow, is bound to be infinitely more exciting, though.
Speaking of festivals, in the unlikely event that you happen to be near Longfork, West Virginia, next weekend, it’s Bearapalooza. (And, if you do get there, I’d like to see pictures!)
Joe.My.God reports on the fortieth anniversary of Stonewall riots and incudes a really condescending Daily News article from 1969.
With so many people rushing to their blogs to broadcast their love of all things Michael Jackson, I’m glad that somebody remembered to mention “Lisa, It’s Your Birthday.” [via Art Fag City]
As I’ve noted before, both anti-prostitution bills in Rhode Island might stall, with the legislature wrapping up before its summer break and spending some of its last hours debating whether or not we should be allowed to have Yankees license plates. (On a brighter note, they might finally legalize MMA fighting in Rhode Island.)
Irish Kate Bush fans attempt to co-opt James Joyce’s holiday, for some reason. (Okay, that happened two weeks ago, but still, why?)
For some reason this song, which appeared on a mixtape someone made me about ten years ago, started running through my head the other day.
Chuck Barris, former game show host, alleged former CIA agent, and inspiration for the wonderful, wonderful Confessions Of A Dangerous Mind, has a new mystery novel out.
Check out the Nudie Blues, as pictured above. I’m not sure who made them; the Flickr profile just says it’s a male in Berlin who is taken. I’m assuming his name is Alain, but I don’t know anything beyond that.
It’s kind of a sad day for celebrity news, with Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett both dying. But on a brighter note, director Paul Morrissey seems to be doing better after being hit by a U-Haul truck the other day. Though the internet is almost completely devoid of information on this subject, Bruce LaBruce’s Twitter reports that the filmmaker is doing better and isn’t, as previously reported, brain-dead.
According to the website contactmusic.com–I don’t know either–the seventy-one year old director of two of my favorite films–Flesh and Blood For Dracula–was more concerned about his accident upsetting the health of his ninety-six year old mother. Morrissey was a regular at Warhol’s Factory, despite the fact that he was straight-edge and not super-gay. I have no idea why he stuck around, but his work with Warhol, especially Trash, is (sometimes) really beautiful.
[image: Joe D'Allessandro in a still from Flesh]
A Connecticut news team reported on a story about the Manifest Glory Ministry, a Bridgeport Church that perfomed a gay exorcism and then put it on YouTube. It’s pretty grim, despite the usual hilarity/awkwardness about local television news using YouTube as source material.
It’s kind of easy to forget that stuff like this happens in New England and not just in the rural South. (I don’t mean that in an anti-South way. It’s just that this kind of zealotry and homophobia is completely foreign to me.)
Filed under: gay, hookers, lists, movies, music, not hot, people from rhode island | Tags: the gays, bloc party, hiv, movies, blogs, porn, the 700 club, michelle rhee, amber rhea, timbaland, mcsweeney's, geneology, hoaxes, abortion
Former Rhode Island senator/current gubernatorial candidate Lincoln Chafee came out in support of gay marriage this week, with an editorial in New England gay rag Bay Windows.
Speaking of Rhode Island, our ridiculous governor made an appearance on The 700 Club the other day.
The Washington Post had a pretty fascinating report on Michelle Rhee, who heads the DC school system. (Not particularly relevant to this blog, but worth the five-page read nonetheless.) The most disturbing part of the story, I think, is the part about how lots of kids can’t graduate each year because bureaucratic nonsense prevents them from getting the credits they need.
Audacia Ray guest-posted on Feministing about the HIV scare in the porn world.
Amber Rhea is done, uh, being.
Timbaland’s getting sued for unauthorized sampling.
McSweeney’s is looking for new columnists.
Bloc Party just announced a new non-album single, which will be out in August.
Al Capone’s possibly-grandson has a website that came across my path last week. I don’t even remember how.
Anti-abortion website April’s Mom was, it turns out, a hoax. Allegedly created by a woman pregnant with a terminally ill child, social worker Becca Beushausen eventually birthed a doll. In a fit of crazy, Beushausen says that the had originally created the site only for a few of her friends. Because, I don’t know, who doesn’t think it’s a lot of fun when their friends make websites devoted to their imaginary terminally ill fetuses?
Unreality came out with a list of the ten most polarizing movies of the last decade. The list is all Hollywood, so Demonlover and Irreversible aren’t on there. I’m pro-Eyes Wide Shut and anti-Moulin Rouge, for what it’s worth.
David Archuleta’s dad was caught up in a sting at the Queens of Reiki massage parlor in Utah this past January.
Finally, if you’re looking for something else to follow on Tumblr, I really like Nashville Needs More Metaphors.
Superqueer Art Happening opens tonight, you hear! E-mail yurigellerbentme@gmail.com if you don’t know where to go. It’s 6-9 tonight, and then I’m keeping it open all next week (by appointment, thought it’s closed for sure on Sunday and Monday.) I’m so excited!
It will be infinitely better than whatever Pride-related activities you might have had planned for tonight, though your odds of getting laid/buying drugs are probably slightly lower at the art show. Although really, who am I to say who you’ll meet here?
For the second year in a row, I’m hosting a queer-themed art event to coincide with–but be completely unrelated to–Rhode Island Pride. There will not be rainbow flags or meaningful handprints or anything bad; there will be X-Files-inspired porn and manly needlepointing and lots of glitter. It opens Friday, and there’s a reception from 6-9. If you’re in Providence and don’t know where to go, drop me a line at yurigellerbentme@gmail.com and I’ll give you the necessary deets.
Featuring Michael DePietro, Zachary Kellogg, Mike Kitchell, Delia Kovac, Joseph John Sanchez, Christopher Schulz, and Jason Tranchida. I will also be trying to sell off my large-ish collection of seventies lesbian literature.
[image: from The Truth Is Out There, Mike Kitchell]
Filed under: books, gay, heterosexuals, hot, magazines, not hot, porn | Tags: hiv, sarah palin, books, porn, commercials, murder, david letterman, matt lauer, sex trafficking, wrestlers, assholes, meteorites, le tigre, christina aguilera, steven klein, the jews
The Sarah Palin-David Letterman feud fascinates me; the Alaska governor told Matt Lauer all about girls having low self-esteem because of comments made by older men, which maybe isn’t necessarily wrong, exactly, but holy shit does she have a horrific way of conveying her ideas. Also I don’t believe she ever thought he was talking about her fourteen-year old daughter. And it’s completely unfair to claim that Obama’s family got away with shying away from media scrutiny and her family didn’t, since the Palins actively sought it out; also the Obama children aren’t working examples of why his political stance is flawed. Letterman’s response to Palin’s insanity was extremely well-handled and actually pretty funny, considering the subject matter.
The Curvature reports on a horrific story about a father and son who kidnapped women and held them hostage as sex slaves; when they were finally arrested recently in Nashville the three women–at least one of whom had not seen freedom in several years–were all booked on marijuana possession charges.
The two Nebraska wrestlers that appeared on naked-dude website Fratmen.com said in an ESPN interview that they’re surprised anybody even found out what they had done. That’s the cute-ish Paul Donohoe pictured up at the top of this post.
A Fox News writer in a speeding SUV hit a cyclist in Central Park and dragged him on his hood for 200 feet before speeding off.
A 14-year old was hit by a pea-sized meteorite traveling at about 30,000 miles per hour.
Le Tigre are apparently not broken up, and apparently they’re not completely mired in the major-label bullshit they for some reason seemed really anxious to get into, but they are working with Christina Aguilera. Personally, I’m hoping this results in Xtina covering The The Empty.
After working out, choosy robots choose instant mashed potatoes.
Timothy Boham, who performed in gay porn under the name Marcus Allen, was found guilty of murder the other day. His lawyers had argued that the victim, Denver businessmen JP Kelso, had committed suicide, and that the murder scene was staged later to collect insurance money.
Perez Hilton leaked naked pictures of a drug-addled-looking Dustin Lance Black barebacking and giving somebody a blowjob. As with Milk, the film that made Black famous, I was largely unimpressed. Even though I thought this warranted a mention, I still can’t bring myself to link to Perez Hilton.
Towleroad reports on Steven Klein’s new cover for Electric Youth magazine. I have no idea how big EY is, that it can afford to send a famous fashion photographer to South America to shoot something like this, but the whole thing sort of gives me the willies.
A porn performer tested positive for HIV recently; the LA Times wrote a story with conflicting ideas about what that might mean for the industry.
“Like Jews elsewhere, the four represented varying degrees of Jewishness.”
Last summer I decided only to read Harlequin romances when I went to the beach, and I started with one called The Virgin And The Unicorn, which was about a princess and a boxer with meaty thighs who wanted to open a home for wayward children in her evil father’s castle. This year, I think I might have to investigate Tess Mallory, who writes time-travel romances about Scottish rogues.
Filed under: gay, heterosexuals, hot, magazines, movies, porn | Tags: madonna, the gays, michael cera, porn, portland, clue, va$htie, public access, national geographic, the martinez brothers, slap magazine, models, arson, maine
The Grand View Topless Coffee Bar in Vassalboro, Maine, mysteriously burned down the other day. The owners didn’t have any insurance and it’s unlikely to reopen.
Fashion modeling can be creepsville. Which isn’t really surprising, but still.
Ben Greenman wrote an article for Maud Newton on Portland’s abundance of both writers and strippers. Unrelatedly, but worth mentioning, is that I only just noticed Oregon (and South Carolina) have both passed Rhode Island in terms of unemployment.
Andrew from Synthetic Pubes/Fuck Yeah Cilantro has an article on Filthy Gorgeous Things about the state of porn today. I have more to say about this, but probably won’t ever get around to it.
Here’s a map (it’s a pdf) of lesbian and gay rights in the world.
The Utne Reader reports on robots that can play Clue and possibly work as minesweepers. If I were ever going to play something against a robot, it would definitely be Clue. And if I were ever going to be a crazed collector of something, it would be Clue boards and ephemera.
Slap Magazine, though it (sadly) doesn’t exist in print form anymore, is still doing some pretty cool stuff online, like this portfolio of skate photographer Brian Gaberman.
The awesome Martinez Brothers got a really good write-up in the Times the other day.
If you join National Geographic’s Twitter (@natgeosociety) you get a subscription offer of $1/issue. Which I would totally do, if I actually had twelve dollars right now (I don’t.)
This dude talking about Madonna’s Till Death Do Us Part–a song I’ve been hearing a lot lately–is kind of hilarious, in an awkward public access dude way.
Michael Cera turns 21 today. Now I can legally fantasize about plying him with liquor before having my filthy way with him. Because, and I’ve said this before but it’s worth repeating, Michael Cera is ridiculously, mysteriously hot. (Though I say that as someone who has seen a total of about ten minutes of Arrested Development, so he was actually nineteen (in Superbad) the first time I ever really noticed him. Which is, you know, less creepy than if I liked him when Arrested Development started six years ago)
My busy schedule has led to, among other things, a significant decline in my Tumblarity. Now I’m only as popular as Fuck Yeah Va$htie. (Va$htie being, if you didn’t know, the girl who directed the new Kid Cudi video. Pardon me while I yawn a lot.)
As of a couple of hours ago, Rhode Island is the only state in New England that hasn’t legalized gay marriage. And our governor is still allowing anti-abortion rallies inside the State House (where his wife also holds prayer meetings.) Ugggggggggggggh.
