Monday, May 21, 2007

The effect of porn on the gay male sexual imagination, but also maybe there's hope...

These are direct quotes from some of the Blow Buddies patrons. First guy, the one who likes to shove his dick down your throat and then, just when you're making adjustments, he pulls it out and walks away. He was probably in the military at some point because he has impossibly bad hair, the kind that someone cuts with a cigarette in one hand and a cocktail in the other, where is the scissors? This guy says: you look like a guy with a big cock.

What does a guy with a big cock look like? I better go to the bathroom and look in the mirror, take some notes for the folks back home. Okay, here's a line of pure brilliance from the guy with a scowl ingrained into his face, I know you're asking which one but there's something about his eyes and the graying of his hairline that's sexy. But apparently it’s not a creative streak, he says: yeah, suck that big cock, you like that don't you -- you're a faggot, aren't you a faggot, faggot, he's a faggot—oh, yeah!

Okay, but the most ridiculous line comes from the short guy with the stubble and a shaved head, I love rubbing his head that's one of my favorite things to do. He says: thanks for the facial, man. He means the come on his face. At first I think he's being shady, but then I realize he’s serious: the facial, man, thanks. Thanks for the facial, man.

But I almost forgot to tell you about Hillary Clinton, she's in one of the little cubicles with a round window like a porthole except there's no glass, there are other windows lower where you can stick various objects: hot dogs and donuts and inner tubes and garden hoses, that kind of stuff. Hillary Clinton is wearing a baseball cap, backwards of course, and a Polo shirt like this really is 1985 or something and she still believes in her husband. But anyway, Hillary Clinton is getting her cock sucked, the thing that's hot about it is the way she grabs the guy’s head and pushes it all the way down at a disastrous angle, holds him there even as he struggles against that grip. Oh, that grip!

I keep coming back for glimpses of Hillary, why yes of course I'm a sucker for militaristic, hypocritical, opportunistic, pioneering, chauvinistic, entrepreneurial, jingoistic, capitalistic stand-by-your-man-because-your-man-might-get-you-something-eventually-but-he's-not-here-right-now-is-he types, or wait is that Bill on his knees with the frosted swept-back hair now falling in his face? But enough of democracy. Don't get me wrong -- while I may fall madly to my knees, mouth gaping open for all that power and violence spasming into my throat, I certainly will not vote for it, okay?

Anyway, back to Blow Buddies, this is why I'm there: just after that first time on my knees, I mean the first time tonight, all that extra saliva in my mouth and I'm up again walking in circles through the artificially dark halls of men madly projecting lack of creativity, I mean masculinity at any cost because that's what gets them action but the point is that it no longer matters, I get to this place where I’m suddenly so present. It doesn't make sense, really, but I'm laughing and grabbing guys just to kiss them on the neck, then I'm devouring this one guy’s ear, such a strange firm and rubbery concoction, tongue tasting the different hills and valleys and he's hugging me, I mean maybe I’m mostly hugging him but whatever it feels good and starts a trend because it all ends with that guy who likes facial products, I'm rubbing his head nestled just at my chin, the few sentences we exchange afterwards are not exactly going anywhere that resembles connection but that's okay too or no, it's not okay but it's okay.

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