“The stage is a truck stop by a Highway of Hopes.”

So begins HvH’s new anthology of homo-hot tales, set somewhere to the left of the Twilight Zone. “Michael is waiting, his eyes fixed on the poorly lit restroom door…”

And what Micheal will find in that restroom and through its gloryhole is a strange sort of … perfect love. (read the full article)

… Because I love men.

Yes that’s the simple answer. To an even simpler question.

We’re gay, you and I. But why? I’m not looking for some DNA in-utero underdeveloped hypothalamus cause. I’m wondering why, every breathing day of our lives, we find men so…hot.

And why is it that we’re willing to pursue these creatures when we’ve been preached at, since birth, that they are exactly whom we are forbidden to love — and fuck? (read the full article)

 
I’m fighting the gays in the can so we don’t have to fight them in our own backyard.

That’s in essence the mission statement of Fort Lauderdale Mayor Jim Naugle, the latest in a very long line of Right Wing cranks bent on cleansing his lily white fiefdom of all those pesky homosexuals and their degenerate ways.

His grand design for stemming the lewd rainbow tide threatening to overrun the city? Robotic toilets designed to narc on their copulating occupants by automatically flinging open their stall doors during lurid activity. (read the full article)

Ah, the flotsam and jetsam of television.

When it’s bad, it’s really bad. Thankfully, we have The Soup to act as a pop culture strainer, capturing the Very Best of the Very Worst. Of course you’ve seen The Soup, the E! channel’s weekly review of celebrity gaffes and reality-show low points.

But even if you’re not a connoisseur of truly terrible TV, there’s still one terrific reason to tune in: sardonic host Joel McHale, right, a 6′ 3″ vision of hotness served up as the emcee.

At first glance, he could be a stubbly J. Crew catalog model or a Brit Pop frontman or one of those guys who turn up in straight porn as randy plumbers and pizza deliverymen. He is, in fact, the perfect guy, a combo of playful sexiness and a wicked streak of humor.

That a channel like E! would present a wet-dream like this is something of a miracle. E!, after all, is a low-rent netlet whose content consists of a drip, drip, drip of studio press releases, inane celebrity news, fawning star profiles, dopey Hollywood crime documentaries, and staged true life series devoted to bottom-of-the-barrel “personalities.” E! makes FOX look like PBS. (read the full article)

 
Here’s a little white porcelain planter that seems to be a design collision between Marcel Duchamp and John Waters.

Drawing inspiration from the bonsai, these Park Planters by Science & Sons bring the furtive and feral side of the city park right into your living room. But safely and daintily. (read the full article)

 
Crowds gathered and thousands cheered when the gentle scene you see above was shot near the Bay Bridge in San Francisco.

Gossip rarely travels back to us from a porn shoot. Usually the ass-pounding, dick-swallowing on display in the Video area of Nightcharm’s Inner Circle is all we need to know. But a fluffer on the set of the latest Raging Stallion dick-flick thought this story was too good to keep to himself. A long-time friend of Nightcharm, he called us in the middle of the night with his breathless, behind-the-scenes tale: (read the full article)

Naked boys fondling their finely-tuned instruments.

Depending on the context, that’s a giddy single entendre or a cheeky double one.

In the case of Wayne Berry (below right), it just happens to be both.

As webmaster of Wayne’s Nude Musicians, he prides himself on being an epicure of what in retrospect is now called “prop porn” — physique nudes in which nubile young Adonises pose seductively with various musical instruments. (Like this demure cutey on the left.)

“While I’m sure your mother and mine would certainly disagree with me on the artistic merits of porn, I think present-day theory would mostly agree on pornography’s status as art,” Wayne explains. “Certainly a lot of it is bad art, but art nonetheless.” (read the full article)

Hollywood and its down-market doppelganger Gay Porn have always had a symbiotic relationship.

Starting in the earliest days of stag films and continuing into the beefcake photos of the Athletic Model Guild and the advent of hardcore, gay porn has always been happy to employ Hollywood’s handsome rejects — guys who are too short, too untalented, or just too unwanted to hit the big time.

Guys willing to do all the things that real stars do in private and pay publicists to keep under wraps.

The life of a sex star can be just as tragic and self-destructive as a mainstream actor’s.

For every big name who succeeds in winning a long career on either side of the camera or retiring in opulence, there are any number of would-be starlets who miss the boat. While many are claimed by the dreaded Four Horsemen (AIDS, Age, Overdose, and Suicide), there are others who are felled by ending up on the wrong side of the law. The lucky ones manage to survive with their careers still intact. The doomed flare out spectacularly and shuffle off down the Boulevard of Broken Dreams to that iron-barred Xanadu known as the Big House.

For sheer luridness, it’s hard to top the arrest of internet barebacking entrepreneur Harlow Cuadra (far right) for the murder of Cobra Video owner and producer Bryan Kocis (right middle), a crime straight out of Boogie Nights.

Porn pixie Cuadra and boyfriend/business partner Joseph Kerekes (right top) — the hustler Leopold to his trucker-hatted Loeb — face charges for the murder of Kocis, an attack so violent that it resulted in 28 stab wounds and a slashed throat for the victim before his home was set ablaze.

The two are staring down a litany of other charges including robbery, arson, money laundering, tampering with evidence, racketeering, and abuse of a corpse (yeesh). Money was apparently their motive. (read the full article)

Why stop now when we’re on a roll?

In the mysterious ways that these things happen, barebacking has become the theme of the week here at Nightcharm. Triggered by a casual aside from a porn star, developed in a report on a report, the subject has set off a cascade of irate comments. To acknowledge the practice without condemning it, apparently, is a deal-breaker for many readers and some veteran Nightcharmers have vowed never to break bandwidth with us again.

We hope they will reconsider. Still the muse calls. In keeping with our theme, we bring you the contrary view, a herald from the opposite camp, who comes through the battlefield out of breath, loaded with news, telling us of the latest in the Trojan Wars.

For it is not only barebackers who don’t believe in condoms. The American religious right — a scandal throughout the world — has long waged a campaign against them with all sorts of ludicrous misinformation about their supposed ineffectiveness. It is their way of policing morality, to make sex as deadly as possible. And so the latest skirmish is taking place over a witty new ad for Trojan condoms:

In the ad, beautiful women sit listlessly in a singles bar while all around them big, hairy hogs are looking for some action. But the piggies don’t rate so much as a glimmer until one of them gets the idea to buy a Trojan from a vending machine. Poof, he instantly turns into the cutest Prince Charming ever to need a sweetener to enhance his sales pitch (Odd, but the actor reminds us of Sanjaya – except hot and manly! Who knew? See for yourself.) (read the full article)

After working like mules through July to redesign Nightcharm’s front page and blog, we’ve decided to do what every sane art and nature-loving Frenchman does: take the month of August off.

Europeans are lucky that way. For eons August has been the time of year when folks retreat from their day-to-day grind and take time to contemplate other people, places and things. Traveling, or not. Catching up on literature, film and fucking.

Some of the more privileged and blessed on our staff — people like our dear editor-in-chief John Calendo — will take both August and September off (the bitch) for some deep soul rejuvenation. Expect miraculous things from him in October when he returns from the Promises Treatment Center. (read the full article)