As a God-fearing, Free Market-championing member of the Young Republican National Federation — with a regulation sensible haircut — I understand exactly why our economy is faltering in the face of adversity:
It’s the Gays.
Our work force used to be comprised of square-jawed, callous-handed chick ballers who were toiling away in mills and factories by dawn’s earliest light, returning home well after dusk to give their home fires-stoking wives a proper missionary-style jump start before retiring at a decent hour so as not to awake bleary-eyed.
Look, times are tough.
Deep down, we’re all wanting to foment an urban riot, join a vicious gang, start a fire, and serve up a serious beat-down.
The trick is to plan ahead for if and when the law catches up to you.
Frankly, the only reason I haven’t been murdered yet is because I expect to be murdered by everyone around me, so just as I take steps to avoid being snuffed, I also plan ahead for my eventual arrest — in the sense that I want to take a really great mugshot.
Growing up I was all boy. A soccer-playing, Batman-loving, and G.I. Joe-centric child, it must have been a comfort to my unsuspecting mother. Thinking that I was just a curious little boy who enjoyed reading Encyclopedia Britannica, what she didn’t know was that I was reading them not because her son was an incredibly bright little boy, but rather because he was gawking at pictures of Michelangelo’s David.Read More...
A NIGHTCHARM CLASSIC from January 2008
Boys showing off their junk!
We live in the Age of Porncreep, where everyone aspires to be a porn model — from the boy next door to the store-bought boy on DVD. The Under-Thirties just can’t take off their clothes for the camera fast enough.
And yet…What could be more wholesome and natural, to quote Tallulah Bankhead, who when Chico Marx tried to get a rise out of the lanky glamorgirl with a crude “I intend to fuck you, Miss Bankhead,” replied, “And so you shall, you dear old-fashion boy!”
Old-fashion boys have always been proud of their displays — the peacock (not peahen) flares open his tail to reveal a starry twilight sky out of the Arabian Nights, and this magnificence finds its boydom equivalent in the raging two-handfuls of hard-on.Read More...
1519: The Conquest of Mexico begins, with the Spanish conquistadors flooding from their galleons, the first wave mounted on their strange war beasts, bound for Tenochtitlan. The Aztecs had no horses among them, and so at first mistook the invaders for warriors upon the backs of stags, and then for some fearsome breed of horse-men, and finally for gods issuing forth from towers risen out of the sea.Read More...
This is what’s known as a classic sex triangle in which an entirely superfluous woman acts as a base to buffer a perfect gay right angle.
I learned about it in college.
A NIGHTCHARM CLASSIC UPDATED from October 2005
It’s hard to top full-frontal nudity. But some half-dressed men — like the one at left — manage to do it with the sheer menace of their stare… the size of their arms! … the rip of their abs!
Why is it that certain stages of undress appear more naked than outright nudity?
There are so many things right with this picture of the ultimate alterna-boy, Jonathan Rhys Myers, returning to his car after shopping for dinner that we feel compelled to point them out to you.
In fact we feel these photos should be used as instructional examples for all aspiring male sex symbols to study before ever venturing out into public.
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