What would you do? You’re on the cover of The New York Times Sunday Magazine — a gay Marine officer, whose face is barely hidden behind a strategically placed salute.

You have agreed to speak, along with your Marine buddies, also gay, about a life of skulking around under the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell policy. You tell the woman reporter that you sometimes go on pretend-dates with "stunt babes," that you miss the sort of hugs-and-kisses from your lover that greet almost every other Marine when he steps off a battleship. Yet to be honest, you and your buddies love the Marine Corps with all your hearts and souls.

Being a man of honor, the kind the Marines are adept at molding out of earthy country-boy stock, you bristle under a policy that requires you to be a hypocrite, to never have permission to simply shoot the breeze with another Marine about what your life is really about. So you and your buddies have agreed to speak out within the confines of that law: anonymously. (more…)

Ah, that Special Relationship!

Britain and the U.S., forever in each others pockets, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. We here at Nightcharm are total kooks for all things United Kingdom: ABFab, Harry Potter, Alfred Hitchcock, Liz Taylor, and of course the Prince Albert.

Also David Beckham (right).

Actually, David Beckham with a Prince Albert is something we would pay money to see, especially if he were dancing on a bar, waving it in our face. Please talk dirty to us, daddy, in your delightfully tight-assed British way. Say bloody. Say bollocks. Bend us like Beckham, mate!!

Let’s just say if you "lot" ever got rid of Queen Elizabeth, she could come over here and queen it over us.

She’d make a fortune! We see her sitting beside Connie Stevens and Adrian Arpel, selling cubic zirconia versions of the Crown Jewels on the Home Shopping Network. As well as replicas of her splendidly dowdy hats. But only after she genuflected to the flag, of course, and mouthed a bit of hogwash about how we’re all classless here in America, just one happy melting pot where everybody comes out Southern Baptist. Praise! (more…)

Ever wonder who answers those emails about penis enlargers? The ones that slip in under subject lines like "Nicole is worried about you!" or "Did Claudia show you this?" And then, with nary a Nicole or Claudia in sight, the email takes off on flights of the most god-awful pidgin English, admonishing "all loving men" to "pleasuring her bigger. She deserves to be happy, doesn’t she?"

Well, that she does. All it takes is a big ole horse cock. (more…)

Haven’t you thought about it? Maybe you’ve actually done it: Eyed that young parish priest or that righteous minister and wondered what was going on under his cassock, intuited that there was something about him and that with just the right look, word, touch, you could make that holy man a holy roller!

For most people it’s an idle fantasy. For some, though, the fantasy winds up coming true! And lately, it’s been a nightmare made flesh.

Real priests marching across the nightly news and morning’s headlines — in handcuffs! Men who crossed the line, who did something worse, much worse than breaking their vow of chastity: Men who exploited the vulnerable and fatherless.

But in the realm of fantasy (where everyone is over 18, of course), a lot of us are tweaked by the idea of someone who is holy by day and a hellcat by night. Every now and then a maverick porn video explores this very concept.

Putting religion and sex into a fuck-and-suck tale is risky business, literally. The market is limited. Sex plus church brings up all sorts of awkward feelings. Many of us were raised on religions that declared we were lost, forsaken people. Of course, that’s part of the spark — why we like to see holy men rutting around in the muck of their own bullshit. (more…)

Because nobody is afraid to celebrate hard-ons there. This is an ad — in English – that is plastered all over Paris. To find it here, you’d have to go to the Levi’s web site and click on Europe. (more…)

“IT’S SO ODD HAVING SO MANY MEN OBSESSED WITH MY PENIS. If I had a more normal-sized penis, none of this would have ever happened,” laments Vincent Gallo to Gawker in response to the statement last week from an actor who alleges he was Gallo’s "cock stand-in" in Nightcharm’s favorite unwatchable film, the Vincent Gallo directed, Vincent Gallo written, Vincent Gallo produced Brown Bunny, which stars — yes, you’ve guessed it! — the Eight Wonder of The World Himself. Well, actually, not so much Mr. G. as Mr. G’s upright, party-size dick. (more…)

OOH, GIRL! DO YOU HAVE A LICENSE FOR THOSE THANGS!

This today from Popbitch, the nasty gossip-newsletter from the U.K. that never fails to warm our hearts:

"Legendary stripper Tawny Peaks has just sold the implants from her 69HH breasts on eBay for $16,766. Tawny became infamous in 1998 when a patron at the Diamond Dolls nightclub in Clearwater, Florida sued her, claiming he suffered a whiplash injury when she swung her breasts into his face. He said they were ‘like two cement blocks.’

"The case went to arbitration on The People’s Court TV show and the judge, former New York City Mayor Ed Koch, ordered a female bailiff to examine Peaks in private, where Tawny’s breasts were found to be "soft." Koch ruled they were not dangerous and refused to award damages. Peaks said she has since become "kind of a recluse." (more…)

Forget about the self-help tapes for those long drives to Grandmother’s house. After two-hours of cruise control on an Interstate, everybody gets horny. Here’s the perfect help-yourself solution: Manjack, a 2-CD collection of utterly filthy stories from one of Nightcharm’s favorite Inner Circle honchos, Bob Vickery.

With steamy re-enactments by a team of talented voices, most notably the resonant Mark Masters, a porn movie will be running in your head as you steel yourself to cruise that nasty-looking trucker who’s been riding your ass for the last 15 miles. (more…)