Handsome jock Kelan is a natural blonde with unnatural tendencies. Don’t let his angelic face fool you. Poor Kelan is an addicted masturbator. It’s been getting in the way of school and work. So he went to a psychiatrist where he learned the only possible treatment for his condition—masturbation in our Fratmen theater. His doc reasoned the only way to end Kelan’s stress and shame was for him to submit to the desire to masturbate. Sound advice for all of us.

And it may be that Kelan’s masturbation is contagious! His all-over dusting of light blonde hair and perfectly worked out body will give even the most mentally chaste of us some ideas. While his textbook tanline inspires a fetish for tanlines. Kelan (and his fortunate condition) are on display in the Inner Circle now. He needs you to watch.

“Steve, you slut! Every fucking time we go to eat out, you get all literal on us!”

Hat tip to D Listed

Sexual harassment: it’s not always as bad as it sounds.

Sometimes it’s better than bad — it’s great! And you can’t spell “harassment” without “ass,” so there’s a Freudian tell for you.

I’m not talking the creepy, stalky, lawsuit-filing kind. I mean the ass-slapping “Uuuuh! Looking good, baby!” sort we all either have to keep ourselves from indulging in or secretly wish would happen to us. The Eric Massa scandal kind of started out rather cheeky and funny in several respects, but as it’s grown increasingly ugly, it’s clear how some things should stay grounded in the windmills of the mind and consequence-free porn plotting. If we lived in a world wherein all employers were hot as hell, sex carried no problematic implications, and there were no Bible-happy buzzkill co-workers, we wouldn’t need GLAAD or the ACLU because we’d all just gleefully fuck our way to the top.

So who suffers the worst? You’d think it would be the ladies infiltrating the workforce and getting paid less while having to fend off skirt-chasing churls with wives at home, a Mad Men boys’ club mentality, and lecherous superiors wanting to coerce them into doling out sexual favors if they want to ascend the career ladder. You’d think old world machismo is the problem.

But no. It’s the Muscle Heads — they of the trademark mandanas, douchey tattoos, Ed Hardy attire, porcupine quill hair styles, and jacked-up roid racks — who are the real victims of our culture of lust politics. Their opponents: the queers with their perpetually roving eyes and inability to keep it in their pants. Their battleground: the locker room. Forget the Lilly Ledbetter Act. This misunderstood minority needs a Donny Dumbbell Act mach schnell. (read the full article)

Hey, we’ve all been there.

If you’re like us and abhor your typical generic sitcom for its callow puerility, hermetically-sealed staginess, eye-rolling reliance on familial relations, and catch phrase-happy brats, then NBC’s Community may have slipped under your radar. Convention-breaking, wordsmithy, and deadpanningly unsentimental, the series — actually lensed at two L.A. community colleges — follows the continuing adult education misadventures of a motley, makeshift family of losers and wandering souls addled with neuroses and just gnawing at the bit to fuck the hell out of each other (read the full article)

Macho pig bottom Christian wrote up his birthday list and at the top was “giant ass-stretching dildo.” He tried to sign up for one at the Bed, Bath & Beyond gift registry but they no longer carry sex toys. So it’s bearded Latin stud Tony Serrano to the rescue in our Treasure Island theater.

Tony works shockingly huge toys into Christian’s hole, encouraging his boy and demanding submission. Christian takes everything Tony’s got—his mouth and hole gape open in unison. After using a series of toys (including a rubber crucifix!) Tony rams Christian bareback. Got to treat that birthday boy right! As a bonus, you get to check out Christian’s plump, smooth balls while he gets plowed.

See them fuck hard and raw in the Inner Circle now.

It’s that time again when our focus drifts away from the flotsam and jetsam of Jersey Shore, Ben Shalom Bernanke and Russian douche knobs like Evgeni Plushenko, and lands like a sharp beam of light on more critical, substantial issues. Like the Academy Awards.

Because going to the movies, for me, is held in the same light as a religious ceremony (or tribunal), the Academy Awards is a particularly exciting event. I often resort to benzos the night before the awards, much like a nominee (or Barbara Parkins in Valley of the Dolls), because I can’t sleep due to nerves and ‘voices’ in my head. This year there were some genuinely stellar films and performances. Here are my winners and (sigh) predictions for winners — two notations that rarely mirror each other. Please, dear readers, add your predictions and favorites at the end of this celebration.

Disclaimer: When I take a disinterest in a film it’s for visceral, irrational reasons. The movie Precious: Based on the Novel “Push” by Sapphire is such a film. Wouldn’t see it. Never will see it. The obnoxious structure of the title alone was a huge turnoff. Too, the Oprah touch pushed it instantly into a kind of Hallmark meets Human Horror category, and then there were other reasons having to do with what I call ‘the emotional cow being milked’ syndrome. But I’m getting sidetracked, so here are my winners and predictions: (read the full article)

Chat Roulette is an adventure.

It’s an expedition in human behavior, namely in what people will do to each other when every inkling of accountability is absent. In its essence, Chatroulette.com is speed-dating over the Internet, except it is unspecific to gender, everyone knows that the end point is not love, and nobody gets a second date. There is no login or registration required; you simply visit the site and click play, and enable your webcam. The server instantly hooks you up with another user - a stranger from anywhere in the world – whose live face appears on the video section of your computer screen. You can chat in a dialog window or by microphone.

The most important portion of your screen is the prominent next button, which you or the other person may click at any time to immediately be whisked off to a new stranger.

When users encounter ordinary people they’ve never met in a community they don’t have any ties to, raw behaviors emerge. There is no one to call you out on rudeness after you next them, so cruel comments will be coupled with blatant rejection. There is no one to ruin your professional reputation, no one to charge you with a misdemeanor for indecency. It’s impossible for strangers to cuss you out or shame you for being a prick if you next them before they can respond, so no one can stop you from accosting elderly women, children and the deeply insecure.

Your tactfulness with rejecting someone or patience with uninteresting encounters is completely up to your own conscience. The anonymity and randomness of the game means that there are no social consequences beyond having to re-set your internet connection if your IP address gets banned by a moderator for indecency, if any moderators even exist. You can do pretty much whatever you want – and people do. (read the full article)