Nudey blog (men)o(rama), of all places, just turned me on to this wonderful, wonderful video by Dutch singer Vanessa.  Apparently Vanessa is kind of vapid and annoying and not very nice, but everything about this video is wonderful to me, from the shorts to the lyrics to the fact that something about the production–the “deny” bit right before the chorus–reminds me of “No Time For A Tango,” my favorite Dutch hit of 1979.  (Ahem.)

After the jump, more with the weight machines:

Olivia Newton John’s “Physical” is the obvious starting point for this sort of thing, considering it was a giant hit that spent ten weeks at #1.  Also it ends with two men holding hands as they go into the shower room together.  (Which seems kind of gay!)

Speaking of seeming kind of gay, the “YMCA” scene from Can’t Stop The Music, the mythical story of the founding of the Village People (starring the Village People!) is one of my favorite movie musical numbers, and not just because of the surprising abundance of man ass, synchronized swimming and Bruce Jenner.  I almost don’t want to post it, because really this is best viewed in the context of the rest of the movie.

In comparison the much newer video for The Chap’s hilarious “Fun And Interesting” seems quite tame, though when it was released in 2008 I thought it was great.

Finally, here is Lova Moor, the French answer to Samantha Fox, with the video for “Je m’en balance,” a hit for her in (I think) 1988.

As it turns out, the World Cup didn’t have much of an impact on South Africa’s sex trade.

A message from Pat Bohannon?

I recently learned about The Incomparable Hildegarde, a Wisconsin-born cabaret singer who performed for about seventy years and who inspired much of Liberace’s act.  She was wildly populat in the forties and, it should be repeated, went by the name The Incomparable Hildegarde.

Tess Lynch on smoking electronic cigarettes, something my friend Kerry recently described as “all the ritual of heroin addiction without actually having to do heroin.”  Unlike Tess Lynch, I’ve only heard good things about the Jupiter Hotel.  But, you know, different social circles, maybe.

When I was thirteen I’d get a boner from pretty much any man who was on my television and wearing a sleeveless shirt.  (Which also explains why I tolerated professional basketball for so long.)  But this week I was reminded of the video for “Whipped,” one of Jon Secada’s less-remembered steamy Latin hits of 1994.  I’m totally ready for a Secada revival if you are, by the way.  (I even sang “Just Another Day” at karaoke recently…)

New Yorkers can’t stop touching Adam’s golden penis.

Someone recently directed me to this athletic uniform blog, which is reeeeeeeeally thorough.

I’ve been thinking about joining Netflix, because I’m kind of a dullard about movies lately, and also because it would give me an excuse to spend more time at home.  If I do, Visconti’s Death In Venice would be at the top of the list, because I (somehow?) didn’t even know it existed until this week.

In the Books That Sound Really Interesting But Which I’ll Probably Never Get Around To Because I Never Read Books Like That category:  Cutting The Fuse: The Explosion of Global Suicide Terrorism and How To Stop It.

Finally, The British are finally starting to appreciate Twin Peaks again.

[video: Army Of Lovers' Jean-Pierre Barda advertising vegan Swedish condoms]

This week Rhode Island’s hateful governor vetoed a bill that would expand the state’s list of hate crimes to include crimes based on gender identity.  Tony Perkins and his horrid Family Research Council approved.  (The governor of Rhode Island will be gone in January, thank the lord.)

The Village Voice writes about “straight bears.” I feel like this warrants a whole post of its own, and it’s not a bad article, but my main gripe is that the (totally skinny) writer calls professional rugby player Ben Cohen “portly” just one paragraph before he calls Kevin Smith “portly.”  Also, no article needs to have the word “portly” in it more than once, anyway.

Jezebel says that sex workers’ rights are rights for all women.  Which, duh.  But it’s true.

The 100 best websites for women.  Umm, 100 is a lot.  Also Feministe is not the best anything for anybody.

Miss this Times article from last Sunday about Lady Gaga’s Telephone video.

Texas Republicans hate sex and want to ban strip clubs and porn and gay sex and whatever.

A 65-meter long dick draws some attention.

Kok is the name of a nerdy new homo blog that posts vintage-y porn illustrations and photos of Captain Kirk in bondage gear (see above).  I like it!

[In which someone who knows nothing whatsoever about soccer tries to predict winners of World Cup matches, based entirely on the hunkiness of the players.  In this first round I'll choose the three most aesthetically pleasing members of the roster and pick the winner that way.]

Day 1

Uruguay v. France

25-year old Walter Gargano is an midfielder who normally plays in Naples. He is one of the bright visual spots on a rather unattractive Uruguayan team.

Did you know that Uruguay won the first-ever world cup?  I didn’t.  That’s them at the top of the page.  And right here we have blue-eyed Sebastián Eguren, another hunky midfielder.  He plays for the Swedish club AIK Fotboll.

And here’s No. 15, the quite young-looking Diego Perez, who is also something of a looker.

Meanwhile, France are not doing so well this year, and their World Cup team has certainly lost a lot of visual oomph since the 2006 retirement of Zinedine Zidane, the hunkiest hunk of them all.  Now the best they’ve got to offer us is Marc Planus, a defender from Bordeaux.  He’s certainly not bad-looking, but really none of the French team have that certain je ne sais quoi that really makes soccer worth watching.

This is Gael Clichy, a 24-year old defender who plays for Arsenal.  He’s pretty good-looking, too.

And finally, here’s Romani striker Andre-Pierre Gignac, who plays for Toulouse.

Overall, a couple of good-looking guys on two squads that probably aren’t going to go very far in the WCoH.  But I pick Uruguay with a 2-1 score.

[In which someone who knows nothing whatsoever about soccer tries to predict winners of World Cup matches, based entirely on the hunkiness of the players.  In this first round I'll choose the three most aesthetically pleasing members of the roster and pick the winner that way.]

Day 1

South Africa v. Mexico

Goalkeeper Itumeleng Khune is one of the youngest players on the South African squad.  He’ll be twenty-three next week.  When not playing for the national squad he tends goal for the Kaizer Chiefs, who I’ve actually never heard of before but who I guess gave the Kaiser Chiefs their name.  Or else that’s quite the coincidence, ha ha.

Lance Davids is a midfielder who, judging from the stats on Wikipedia, is probably not one of the better players on the home team.  However, what a hunk!  I mean, this photo kind of captures him mid-funny face, and the way that he’s (presumably) about to kick the ball makes it look like he’s in the middle of a slapping fight.  But in the team photo–which, why are team photos so hard to come by on the internet?–he definitely stands out as my favorite.

And here’s Anele Ngcongca, who actually is the youngest member of the squad.  He spends his days in Belgium, playing for Genk, and he spends his nights in my dreams.  Or will now, maybe.

Here is 37-year old Mexican goalkeeper Oscar Perez Rojas, who is a hot hot hot hot hot hot man.  He is also, sadly, a hot hot hot hot hot hot man of whom no photos larger than 300X350 seem to exist.  But hubba hubba, right?

This is defender Francisco Javier Rodríguez, who used to have very big hair but who thankfully doesn’t anymore.  He’s 28 and 6’3″ and frankly rather cute.

But the dreamiest dreamboat on the Mexican team is surely Israel Castro, the 29-year old midfielder who normally plays for the Pumas. Those eyes! Those ears! That mouth!

Although South Africa is favored to in, I predict Mexico will win this one by a score of 4-2.

The first openly gay country singer?  Maybe Billboard should try fact-checking?

A graphical guide to bear types.

This Levi Johnston porn trailer–which is not exactly new, but I’m not actually that up on current gay porn right now–looks okay enough, but the trailer is really worth watching for the words “I think I’m gonna give you something to Twitter about.”

Porn star Diesel Washington has a problem with porn being advertised as “interracial.”  I’d like to know more about that.

The Edgar Awards were recently given out this week.

Larry King’s kids’ baseball coach–the one his wife was sleeping with–wants to be in Playgirl.  This is not news, but I thought I’d mention it because he’s actually maybe kinda photogenic?

The Boston LGBT Film Festival‘s going on right now.

[painting by Alessio, via Cool Bear]

The Mirror on the first serial sex killer, which was apparently only half a century ago.

Is this month’s Playboy more feminist than usual?  No, of course not, but one HuffPo writer points out the difference between women getting paid to be in the magazine and women not getting paid for having their pictures unwillingly passed all over the internet.

A so-called “fat girl” was hired to sleep with soccer player Cristiano Ronaldo and then talk about it.  And she did.  The Frisky points out that she’s not actually fat and also that this is a weird thing.

This is apparently my week for getting news from editorial warehouses that I never read.  Here’s someone at Gather making fun of Roger Ebert for not liking Kick-Ass.

In another one of those “people pretending that an offer to do soft porn is a news story” items, Daniel Nardicio has offered Jon Gosselin $20K to do Playgirl, which is a lot less than he offered Levi Johnston.  Nardicio said in a statement that Gosselin’s not very attractive and probably won’t do it, so of course people are pretending it’s a story.

Speaking of Jon Gosselin (for probably the only time ever on this blog), Hailey Whateverthehell posted a photo of a 2-inch penis on Twitter the other day, claiming it was his, because she is a classy person and that is what classy people do.  I would like to point out that, no matter how small Gosselin’s penis is, he still managed to father eight children.

[image: Terry Fincher, Rillington Place, 1966, via Britmovie.co.uk]

The fifty to sixty of you who come here every week looking for naked pictures of Joe Rogan* will probably be excited about this video, which shows the former NewsRadio electrician/hunky slampiece hanging out all naked in a locker room.  I’m in an office with other people right now (!!) so I’ve only watched this with the sound off.  But Gawker says something about pig noises?

(*Seriously, I get more traffic from Joe Rogan searches than anything else these days.  So sad and yet so true.)

Nearly one third of juveniles taken in by police for prostitution are treated as criminals and not as victims.

Does feminism need a rallying cry?

Michael Winterbottom’s new film The Killer Inside Me apparently features a lot of violence against women, so much so that people apparently walked out during the Berlin Film Festival.  But the director points out that violence ought to be ugly, and that the gross thing to do would be to present it as entertainment.  Winterbottom’s made wonderful adaptations of Thomas Hardy (Jude) and Sterne (Tristram Shandy).  His heroes are usually kind of assholes (see also: 24 Hour Party People), and he’s made some movies about some very violent situations (The Road To Guantanamo, A Mighty Heart) so I’m not very surprised this is happening.

Gael Garcia Bernal has a thing for a Thai prostitute in Lukas Moodysson’s new film Mammoth.

Speaking of films, This Recording has an essay by Liz Colville about Blue Crush, the Kate Bosworth surfing movie that I hold very near and dear to my heart.

This week I discovered and immediately fell in love with Seattle photographer Steven Miller’s cumshot photography.  While a few of his more romantic photographs come across as kinda hokey, “There Are No Accidents,” from his Reclamations series, is really a thing of beauty.

I don’t know how exactly this Maria Bamford video ended up in one of my 76 currently open Firefox tabs, but I thought it was kinda funny…

The Pet Shop Boys recommended this book on their Twitter the other day, so I thought I’d add it to my Goodreads list.

Kathleen Hanna and her giant glasses gave a TV interview this week that got quite a bit of circulation on the internet.  I like Kathleen Hanna infinitely more when I hear her speaking and not when I’m reading her essays.  She comes across as smart and interesting, and wisely doesn’t say much when the presenter just keeps asking for her opinions on celebrities.

Someone is suing Google over the giant privacy flaws that came along with their rapidly announced Buzz product.

Speaking of Google, one of those “make money online” blogs had a post this week entitled “Google is finally doing something about music piracy.”  It sort of got me thinking (again) about the ethics of file sharing, but the tone of this article seems a little off.  “It’s one thing that a teenager is uploading their whole music collection for everyone to download from,” the blogger says, “it’s another thing for the site itself to let it sit there for months on end then shut it off after millions have downloaded what they wanted from it.”  Millions?  Really?  Leakblogs that post entire albums months before their scheduled release date is one thing, but people that use their Livejournal to post tracks nobody would ever hear otherwise are probably not getting hits in the seven digit range.

That legislator lady from New Hampshire apologized for talking about men’s penises wriggling around in excrement.

Finally, are the Olympics newsworthy, or are they just entertainment?  That’s a question being brought up with regard to NBC’s coverage of the Vancouver games; since they’re holding all the exciting coverage for prime time, some fans are actually writing angry letters to newspapers publishing real-time results.

The world is so full of terrible album covers that it’s occasionally worth reminding ourselves about the good ones.

I bought the Associates’ 1980 album The Affectionate Punch maybe five years ago at a used record store; the record sleeve was extremely sexy, I thought, and the song titles (“A Matter of Gender,” “A”, “Would I…Bounce Back”) sounded like the kind of stuff that might sound maybe Gang Of Four-like.

It’s a really good album, and the Scottish duo have since become one of my favorite groups; a lot of their later stuff suffers from heavily dated production, but this one’s got those so-called guitars that were big at the time, and singer Billy Mackenzie’s voice is crazily operatic, not as effete as Jimmy Somerville’s (say) but pretty dramatic nonetheless.

David Bowie fans may also know of them:  their first single, rush-released in 1979, was a cover of “Boys Keep Swinging” that was sneakily put out the week before Bowie’s original version was.

After the jump, some tunes:

This is the title track:

“Paper House”:

and “A Matter Of Gender”, which is right up there with anything on the Au Pairs’ Playing With A Different Sex for disaffected early-eighties gender studies:

Mackenzie had a drug problem and committed suicide in 1997.  Alan Rankine, the other half of the duo, went on to teach; he taught the class whose job it was to release Belle and Sebastian’s now-legendary Tigermilk tape.

Finally, as an added bonus, here’s their 1982 cover of Diana Ross’s “Love Hangover.”