Is it wrong that we find Zachary Quinto’s milk bukkake strangely hot?

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.” (more…)

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. (more…)

Teabagging is one of those fetishy porn terms that has become part of the language, particularly youthspeak and hipspeak.

To tea-bag is to drop one’s testicles into a partner’s mouth, classically by sitting on his face. The practice isn’t new but having a word for it is.

The term picked up real speed over the last 10 years when it developed a teenage caché among snarky Xbox and PS3 gamers. In a video game like Battlefield 2, a player can manipulate his virtual character to squat repeatedly over the head of a fellow player that he has just shot down, thus humiliating him and getting off at the same time. The urban dictionary likens this strategy to the “dances performed by football players after a touchdown.”

Thing is the right wing, average age 84, never got the memo. How out of touch are the wingnuts? (more…)

“…there is no love in the world, there is only pain.”

“This is gonna be a tough one. It’s really tight in there. I’m gonna have to shove it hard to get inside. It’s gonna take everything I’ve got to bust it out for you.”

Porn’s rapport with its audience is tacitly linked to its metamorphic ability to adapt to virtually any occupational setting or social stratum. The above dialogue — exemplary of a typical dirty movie double entendre exchange — could be applied to A) a stubbornly clogged drain, B) a malfunctioning carburetor, C) a jammed copy machine, or D) all of the above if they involve Bulgari pour Homme Soir, a spray tan, and hair product. Since porn’s private universe is the paperwork-free, cubicle wall-defying dream career we all wish was our full-time gig, it’s only natural that it would libidinize vocations and the way they interrelate as they take it out in trade. (more…)

T-Shirt from London.
That British reserve always kills us.