Today’s the last day to send in your nominations for the Naked Pictures Of Your Dad 100 Hottest Men That Ever Lived countdown, which will be taking place next month. All entries can be sent to mixtapesforhookers@gmail.com, and, as a little incentive, every man you nominate enters you in a drawing to win a pair of copies of Headmaster.
Men nominated can be any age (or at least any age over 18), and profession and any body type. The full list of suggested prompts is after the jump:
Filed under: music, starfucking | Tags: chris brown, figurative dicks, literal dicks
One of the funny advantages of having a blog with the word Mixtapes in the title is that I get a lot of e-mail blasts from hip-hop promoters. Yesterday, I had the… fortune to get a download link to a new Chris Brown song called “Wet The Bed.” It is a slow jam, and features lyrics like “Put your legs behind your head / I’m gonna make you wet the bed.” Which, I don’t know, is maybe one of those funny straight-people things I don’t understand, but which to me sounds icky and creepy and icky and creepy and icky. Also in the background there is also the sound of Ludacris saying “drip, drip, drip” in what I imagine is supposed to be a seductive voice.
I mean for God’s sake.
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I don’t normally care much for action movies, but I’ve always had a soft spot for Bruce Willis, going all the way back to the first Die Hard. He’s got charisma, he’s got nice arms, he can actually act, and I can take him seriously.
He’s also really hot. Actually, he looks a lot better now than he did a quarter-century ago, when he first appeared on Moonlighting, the mystery-comedy series he starred in opposite Cybill Shepard. Maybe it’s just because I’ve got an autoboner for baldness-disguising head shaving; I don’t know. Peter Keough, writing for the Boston Phoenix, made it a point in his review of new action comedy Red to accuse the actor of looking more like Mr. Clean with each passing film. Whatever, dude.
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Hummina hummina hummina…
This video only has 123 views in Youtube as of right now, which is clearly crazy because Stanley Tucci is a sex god and also makes my loins do a dancing-happy-loins dance in a way that no one else in Hollywood does. Although I’m surprised at the lack of “A Life Less Ordinary” in this video, because his shirtless villain look in that movie is really phenomenal. (Also Ewan McGregor! And Cameron Diaz! And Holly Hunter!)
Also I am kind of drunk right now.
Filed under: gay, music, starfucking | Tags: cruising, george michael, sex with strangers
The cruisy period of my life was pretty brief, mainly extending from when I broke up with my first boyfriend (at 19) and when I started going to bars all the time instead (around 22.) There’s one park in Providence that’s known for being very cruisy (and which for some reason is located in the wealthiest part of town.) But around the time I got a little older the police started showing up more.
George Michael, on the other hand, still cruises.
‘The handful of times a year it’s bloody warm enough, I’ll do it. I’ll do it on a nice summer even–ing. Quite often there are campfires up there. It’s a much nicer place to get some quick and honest sex than standing in a bar, E’d off your tits shouting at somebody and hoping they want the same thing as you do in bed. DyaknowhatImean?’.
It seems like an odd risk for someone who is so very wealthy, who’s been arrested for it before, and, from what I’ve been told, who is usually totally baked all day. But that said, George, don’t you think it’s time you had sex with me? (C-c-c-c-c’mon.)
Filed under: gay, heterosexuals, hot, in praise of athletic beauty, movies, music, personal, porn, starfucking | Tags: baseball, blur, boys, celebrities, christmas, cocteau twins, conner habib, elizabeth fraser, ersan ilyasova, films, gift ideas, grady sizemore, lolita, manliness, milwaukee bucks, nabokov, pet shop boys, porn stars, sherlock holmes, taquitos, the internet
I think I may go back to writing on paper, because my brain is seriously not disciplined enough to sit in front of the computer all day. I write two sentences, then I check my Google Reader. Then I write another sentence, then I become incomprehensibly worried that my Tumblarity might have dropped. Then I delete that last sentence and spend the next hour looking at all the links posted by the 400 people I’m following on Twitter. It’s kind of really fucking annoying.
Here is just a smattering of the things that are distracting me today:
A hairy gay creative writing professor/vegetarian porn star who likes The Dismemberment Plan, The Cardigans AND Patricia Highsmith? Hello, Dreamy McDreamsicles! Or Conner Habib, which I guess is what he technically answers to. (Oh, and did I mention that he’s effing gorgeous?)
Speaking of people with whom I’d like to make whoopie, I’m a little smitten today with Ersan Ilyasova of the Milwaukee Bucks. I don’t know anything about basketball, but at some point just before bed last night I found a photo of him here.
Also in sporting news, sometimes when I see iPhone photos of famous people I can’t distinguish them from iPhone photos of unfamous people. So forgive me for not recognizing baseball player Grady Sizemore the first 5 times I first saw this visual pun about teabagging. Actually, who am I kidding? I have no idea who the hell he is.
Kind of like how when I stumble across celebrity porn fakes there’s about a 90% chance that I won’t be able to actually identify the person whose head is photoshopped on. (The Daniel Craig one is pretty hilarious, though.)
I want more or less everything in the Art of Manliness Holiday Gift Guide. But mainly Filson’s Mackinaw Cruiser, the tweed radio and the leather bag. You know, if you were wondering.
The Chronicle of Higher Education looks at boys.
There’s a Blur documentary coming out early next year, in the UK at least. This is the kind of thing I would fly to the UK to see, if I were a wealthy jetsetter and not an underemployed “creative.”
Elizabeth Fraser of the Cocteau Twins does her first interview in forever.
The Pet Shop Boys have a Christmas EP coming out soon, and they’re releasing parts of the new Christmas single a little bit each day.
Natalia Antonova writes about Lolita over at The Second Pass. (Sadly, her thoughts on the novel aren’t accompanied by a Sasha Grey spread the way that Roger Ebert’s was.)
And finally, Videogum gets to the heart of something that’s been on my mind for weeks now: What the hell is the deal with those Sherlock Holmes Taquito ads at 7-11?
[Connor Habib photo via his Facebook]
Filed under: in praise of athletic beauty, starfucking | Tags: football, joe flacco, kurt warner, nfl predictions
I can’t sleep and I’m insanely bored, so I thought now would be as good as time as any to post my NFL predictions for this season. Though I did better than usual at caring about football last year, I’m still not really qualified to say anything about the strengths or weaknesses of any one team because I don’t pay attention to things like trades and injuries and who retired and all those other things that real fans care about. So my predictions above are based entirely on the relative cuteness of the starting quarterback. Religious zealot or not, in my crazy fantasy world the Cardinals’ Kurt Warner is just dying to do unspeakable things to me, and the Ravens’ Joe Flacco isn’t far behind. (A little surprisingly, my choices don’t at all overlap with the most symmetrical faces in the NFL. I ranked Matt Ryan 23rd out of the 32 starters, and Roethlisberger, Collins and especially fugmaster Philip Rivers all finished last in their divisions.)
After the jump, my predictions for each division, with visual evidence:
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: hot, in praise of athletic beauty, starfucking | Tags: detroit red wings, henrik zetterberg, hockey, starfucking
Though I would be lying if I told you I had more than the most superficial interest in hockey, that’s not to say that I’m completely ignorant of its charms. It’s pretty much the only sport I like to watch in person, for one, and NHL games make a lot more sense to me now that half the games don’t end up with a tie. I still don’t understand why the season drags into June when it should be over by, I don’t know, early April, but really who am I to say.
Anyway, the Stanley Cup might be decided tomorrow. Detroit’s up 3-2 over Pittsburgh in the finals, and if the Red Wings win tomorrow they’ll keep the trophy for the second consecutive year.
One of Detroit’s superstar players–and the reason I’m writing this post–is Henrik Zetterberg, the Swedish left wing. Last year he won the Conn Smythe trophy, which goes to the most valuable player in the post-season, and this year he’s scored 24 points during the playoffs. More importantly, he’s a total hunk. After the jump, Exhibits A-I, showing why this man does things to me. He’s a little bit Jared Leto-y, as many have noted, but clean-shaven he also looks a lot like Bobby Briggs. Obviously I prefer him with his beard, though.
(nb: That’s his girlfriend, Emma Andersson, in the next picture. Holy botox!)
Though he was all the rage in the gay blog world about a year ago, I never noticed HGTV electrician Marc “Sparky” Bartolomeo until this morning, when I stumbled across his early modeling photos while I was looking for something else entirely. I’m normally not attracted to anyone on TV, even when I feel like I should be (ie. the guy that drives the Cash Cab.) But still photos are more interesting, anyway.
Bartolomeo is cute, in an ordinary Italian guy-next-door sort of way, but these photographs are almost all really awesome, for himbo model pictures (which normally I can’t stand, really.)
Pics, including one with a butt and one with a penis and one with some underball, after the jump.
[via Dwight Supremacy]
