Movies are the repositories of all our unfulfilled dreams, while television depicts the daily life we can only wish we had, but it’s the Internet — above any other media form — that exists to chronicle the singular predilections we can’t necessarily share with anyone in particular.

Few sites can claim to narrowcast to such a select audience as the candidly unpretentious Nadshot website, a chronicle dedicated to the spectacle of comic book characters taking wince-inducing kicks, punches, lasers, and other various implements to the groin. A brief peruse will drive home the realization that everything in the Twenty-First Century has assumed the mantle of art form and idee fixe.

Comic books have taught us a lot, like how having a double life is healthy and rewarding only for the beautiful and genetically-blessed, or that for every highly-specified metahuman ability, there’s a tailor able to produce a corresponding lycra ensemble.

Still, in paneled universes where the human body has the resilience of Silly Putty and the sight of body-suited paladins smacking the shit out of each other always carries with it a latent erotic surliness, it’s good to know that even the chosen ones and their Adamantium gonads are humbled by the might of the Big Wind-Up.

Ah, the Dutch. So laid-back. So babe-like. So forward-thinking.

And so pragmatic.

This will shock you, but there are other countries where being gay is really not that big a thing, and your very existence is not an immediate threat to the nation at large. I don’t mean places like Oz or Narnia. Real terra firma lands.

The Netherlands is not only able to exist without constantly having to give the guys the side-eye — it’s actually willing to allot them an established stomping ground.

A park within a stone’s throw of Amsterdam is taking a nouveau approach to the earth-shattering issue of men having at within its environs. Rather than trotting out the police to start roping in men with their pants around their ankles and their heads in their hands, officials have opted for a decidedly more novel live-and-let live approach: signs alerting park-goers that they’re approaching the vicinity of a known cruising zone.

Relates municipal spokeswoman Manon Koffijberg: “If you don’t want to be confronted by a vision of that sort, the signs allow you to avoid specific areas. There are various groups of users of the park; people with small children who bathe on the beaches, those who walk their dogs, gays cruising and nature lovers. Things are arranged so that each group can relax in their own area without intruding on each other.” (read the full article)

When April descends on Seattle, we strip down to the bare minimum allowed by law (sometimes less) to head outdoors and endure the sweltering heat, and that classic Northwest humidity. With thermometers busting through the 65° Fahrenheit mark, we might be suffering, but we’re also looking at unclothed boys.

Boys like Dominic, the newest Fratmen model featured by our members area, The Inner Circle.

It doesn’t do anything to lower the temperature, but it’s another kind of relief, to be sure.

According to our in-house archive of the definitions and origins of baby names, “Devlin” is of Gaelic origin, and means “stricken by misfortune” or “of terrible boldness.” While it is impossible for us to discern the personal burdens Devlin carries from day to day, we’re pleased to report that he is in excellent physical condition and seems to be of the strong, silent persuasion — not that it stopped him from stripping off his clothes and posing with a sex toy for the Nightcharm Inner Circle Fantasy Boys theater.

That was probably the terrible boldness coming into play.

Hot redheads hold a very special place in our pants, and so we’re quite chuffed to present such an excellently masculine example, Devlin, in our members area.

Two convicts make love though a hole in the wall, a hole so tiny that the only object that can pass through it is a straw and the only love that can be made is one convict blowing smoke into the other’s mouth.

This is the most famous scene in the dank and languid Un Chant d’Amour (A Song of Love), an underground film made in the year 1950 — an antique prehistoric moment before the emergence of a forthright gay sensibility — by Jean Genet, France’s most acclaimed thief, pornographer and poet of perversity. (You can watch the complete 25-minute film below, after the break.)

And when I say perversity, I’m not being flip or using an egregious code word for “homosexual” favored by haters of gay people. No, Genet had — or perhaps, for the sake of his art, for the “beauty of the gesture,” affected to have — a most Satanic taste for true perversity: he once wrote that the greatest act of love was for one lover to betray the other to the Gestapo, while the accused looked on. (read the full article)

Ya know, we here at Nightcharm — believe it or not — get tired of editing photo after photo of handsome, buff, naked men having sex with each other. Not that there’s anything wrong with that; it’s just that every now and then it’s nice to see the tender side of handsome, buff, clothed men showing appreciation, affection and heartfelt glee for one another. Thank you CBS in Texas for your super cool slideshow of athletes showing their tender side. Yep, dozens of photos demonstrating that, gay or straight, men are big adorable love machines.

Maybe the season’s higher temperature has some magical effect on the already steamy confines of the locker room.

Or perhaps it’s down to astrology. This month’s dalliance between Saturn and Mars might have released a crazy-making male hormone infused scent into the atmosphere — making guys do things they normally wouldn’t do (with other guys).

Regardless, these casual snapshots tell the entire story: (read the full article)

Gay porn stardom should, in theory, follow a well-established formula: discovery by an eagle-eyed photographer, an auspicious debut with a coveted “introducing” credit, the coy implication that your sexual repertoire could expand for the right price, a spread in Playgirl or Torso, above-the-title billing in your own high-gloss starring vehicles, lucrative dancing gigs and a slick personal web page, winning a Grabby for best three-way, amassing a list of twelve to fifteen top-tier credits, headlining a lavish swan song production, and finally retiring out into venerated relic hood.

Billy Herrington never planned on becoming a beloved figure in that state of grace normally ascribed to sell-out or fail-forward western demi-celebs: Big In Japan.

Mainstream stars go east on the sly to shill luxury cars or record cheesy dance albums without losing stateside cred. Herrington didn’t just go to Japan. He was summoned by an adoring populace.

International stardom has been thrust upon his broad shoulders thanks to a frenetic, eye-openingly strange parody-paean of the grappling antics in his early eroto-wrestling entry Workout: Muscle Fantasies 3 (left) that appeared on the Japanese video sharing web site Nico Nico Douga, soon going viral and spawning at least three thousand imitators and propelling Herrington to god-like meme status in the Land of the Rising Sun.

No one was more bemused by the attention than Herrington himself, lumbering and knuckle-dragging when on-camera, eloquent and philosophical when off-. He’d been one of the highest-paid and most-recognizable male stars at the top of his game in the late ‘90s while flexing through Playing With Fire 2, Flesh Trap, and Billy Herrington’s Body Shop. (read the full article)

The seemingly overnight sexual transformation of a South American longshoreman has neuroscientists and psychologists perplexed and struggling for an explanation to offer the man’s devastated family.

Problems began several weeks after a giant magic mushroom tattoo was needled onto the upper back of Adraino, a Cartagena dock worker. A stalwart heterosexual and married father of three, Adraino began displaying signs of disturbed behavior (avoiding eye contact with big breasted women and following intently all of the details related to Michael Jackson‘s online auctions) last Thursday, prompting his wife to call local Christian groups for assistance.

According to police blotters, Adraino fled his home in Peru in late March, hitching a ride to Rio de Janeiro to join up with a crew of Brazillian male porn stars. It’s assumed that the effects of the magic mushroom tattoo’s ink worked quickly on a secret center of the longshoreman’s brain, a center that scientists are only now willing to designate as the ‘gay lobe’ — a glob of tissue that usually remains dormant within heterosexual males.

During the first week of April Adraino agreed to perform male-on-male sex in front of three or four randomly placed video cameras left running in a rustic backyard in Rio. After legal wrangling and resolved licensing issues, Nightcharm has acquired Adraino’s debut sex video. We are offering it to our members for RESEARCH PURPOSES ONLY in our Maximo Latino theater. In the Inner Circle of course.

In closing, we advise our heterosexual male readers the following: Avoid procuring tattoos that involve images of any sort of mushroom. Also leprechaun and unicorn portraits are to be eschewed. Rainbow tattoo applications already come with a government advisory, so, well, the choice is yours.