Wednesday, 22 April 2009

Beware of Dork With IPHONE!

Yes you too can look sad and desperate for cock, and nothing says I am a more worldly cock chaser than doing it with your iphone. Just a whip your cock out and make a dorky face gesture and presto, your a dork with an Iphone. Battery Not Included.

When I was single...Sounds like a one of those bullshit opening lines from a novel.. Any fucking way. When I was single I had like most gay guys the Gaydar Profile. And I had the obligatory photos of me. You know the ones, a pic of me passed out drunk on the toilet that my buddy took after picking the lock of the bathroom. The photo of me of me at a far off exotic place traveling. The pic of me in Vegas drinking and gambling. A photo of me at my favorite strip bar JUMBO'S making an ass out of myself grabbing a girl or guy's tit. Then, the lengendary photos of me in Bridget's cooch licking her ass with a tampon hanging out or the one of me ass up in a flower bed with my pants around my ankles when I was a a frat party in Hilton Head South Carolina..(ah memories), but you know good clean fun. Pictures that would make me appear to be more interesting rather than the soured, pickeled hot head that stands before you. But that was ancient history and technology has advanced in many numerous ways. First there was the party line, thus begat the phone line, thus begat the internet and Ramalah begat Ishmael and so on. Now we have dudes with Iphones, the ever prominent thorn in Nokia's side. But I never had a photo on my profile of me taking a picture of myself with a fucking phone.

To me this told a few facts about a person holding his phone. One.. They don't have many friends or any friends. Two.. They have a heightened sense of their ideal self, rather than an actual account of themselves. So this would lead to all kinds of bullshit. Finally... They are in perpetual heat. Passing it around like a Hilton and the local VD clinic. I have succumbed to passing it around myself, but just thought that a pic of my dork ass posing with a phone and no one to take a picture of my burning loins of hotness was just fucking sad. And I haven't had burning loins of hotness since Clinton was in office. Jesus I am sad. When taking photos, I mean I even went as far as asking a guy to take photos and I would in turn do the same for him.. But now we have guyswithiphones posing with the very phone I possess and am always yammering on and losing.

Guys are posted holding thier phone with dicks in hand, and some with mugs that really say, "I am a a dork needing to be porked and there fore I am!" Now there are many things to take into account when posting a photo of your self on your profile in hopes of fishing dick. But the phone is not one of them. There is lighting, background scenery, wardrobe or lack there of, and positioning. You need to smile with your eyes and grab the right amount of tension and know your camera angles. Jesus, I watch to much America's Next Top Scrubber. Holding the fucking Iphone does not allow this. Nor does it make me want to give it up and swing from the guys pork sword and do the nasty drunk or sober. Sometimes I have to laugh at this, cause I know they mean well and in someway this may be the portal to a long lasting romance or relationship.. But lets be honest. Taking a photo of your bent over ass or dick in hand doesn't actually spring to mind frolicking hand in hand in a field of posies sharing your hopes and dreams now does it. But come on guys. Be a little more creative. If you want a cheap dirty fuck fucking put the pedal to the medal and go for it. I know there are a few blackmail photos of me floating around that will never see the light of day and a few bodies buried in the Nevada desert because of this.. but for me I will not be posing like this anytime soon or EVER. This is not to say that I do not think these guys are attractive especially the dude with the hawk, well his body is smoking. But little dude with the "vote for me class president", and homey who is keeping it real with the hoodrat hat and snicker... Well, I let you decide.....


Beyonce's Board feed from The Today show yesturday made it's debut on The Howard Stern Show on Sirius Radio.
This just made my fucking day of laughing. I am not a fan of Beyonce as a global phenomenon hocking crap the world over or any other high class priced Star for that matter. That being said if this shit made it to American Idol, that would be Priceless to see Simon Cowell's face as this voice tries to Audition. Pop music as it has become toady is so fucked. I blame this in part for the way the state of the world is. Science must be scratching it's head right now. I believe that there are scientist hard at work in military out posts crating songs that scientifically annoy the shit out of anyone. This could only explain Brittany Spears, Lady Caca, Madonna, The Pussytute Brigade known as the Tannycat Dolls and that Clay Aiken. And I have to say that sorry ass Gaykin looks like a science project of some shit too. Because you can't fake Rock and Roll. I relish the sound when I hear a thundering hard rift or white noize over these crap acts any day. Sad o say that pop music is directed at gay men and 10- 15 year old girls. Gays buy into it for the costumes and crap and I never seem to understand it. It's like you need a visual to take your mind of how fucking stupid the song is. But I have to say this was priceless. When I was taking music in College I gave my vocal coach a demo, he liked i and asked me whom I liked working as a signer in current music today. One in particular sprung to mind when I mentioned P.J. Harvey. He asked why and I simply said she sounded like she was being fucked and strangled at the same time. Lucky Bitch! Beyonce sounds like she's having a Buick shoved up her ass while her hair is being pulled. Enrique sound like a fucking mong having a shit. So lets remedy this shall we. Crank it!

Sunday, 19 April 2009

These were the seeds that were planted....

As a little boy I was always taken by music.. I was possessed I couldn't get it out of my brain and my parents thought I had a unhealthy obsession with music. I banged, I clanged and sometimes fucking broke out in song. Since I was un piquito nino and didn't have the duckets or know how to have my own record collection I was stuck with the archive of those around me. My parents were young and listened to Soul and Rock... As a kid I would rifle through my dads records and just gaze at the record sleeves. I remember thinking when I first saw Johnny Cash on the cover of Live At Folsom Prison, was... just who is this sweaty guy, and why was he sweating? Now I know that this album is there up on my must have for every record collection but as a four year old... I wasn't mature enough to know just what the hell to make of this double chinned dude with stank all over his duff. Now being that my dad was a biker at the time his collection was pretty colourful
My favourite album was Big Brother And The Holding Company Feat. Janis Joplin "Cheap Thrills" done by Robert Crumb. This album cover mystified me. I would hide it away and stare at it for hours. So being the little cocky son of a bitch that I was I would plan military manoeuvres to get to those albums. It wasn't like I just waited for my mother to pass out on the couch in a muumuu with a bottle of Stoli spilling from her hands. Nope that was my friend Russell's mother. My dad once caught my under the bed holding the album and tried to pry the sleeve from my hands. I will say this I put up a good fight. So this began a ritual. My dad began to pry me away from his records and I was forbidden to touch, look or even smell them. So my little grubby stained hands were ruining his prize collection and I would soon learn. I would show him, make mental note find music and get own record collection. A chore I have accomplished with about 1600 titles to my collections. Music was the devils playground. It wasn't till I was baby sat by my aunt Jane, whom was much younger and had a record collection she was willing to show me. JACK MOTHERFUCKER SMOKING POT! I HIT THE MOTHER LOAD.

Now my aunt Jane was about fourteen fifteen at the time and she was my window to things. Such as Glam Rock and Black Light Velvet Posters... to me she was the coolest chick on the planet. And she was vital to introducing me to Led Zeppelin and David Bowie. Then It began all over again her record covers were my drug. You see it was the artwork of the Vinyl Generation that took me over.
Two albums were Diamond Dogs By David Bowie and Elton John's Captain Fantastic And The Brown Dirt Cowboy. She flew into a rage once when I held the sleeve so tight that my fingers made and imprint and that too became off limits. She cooked up an idea that I would preform for the school when I came home with a note pinned to me informing them of an upcoming talent show. To which I would she dressed me up as Elton John and I would mime Someone Saved My Life Tonight in front of a piano. I lost to some little cunt whom tapped and twirled a baton, I was gutted. Still, to me these albums became criminal, sinful and dangerous. In short, everything rock and roll should be. The colours and subject matter to me seemed almost sexual of these albums because of the present physicality present in all the sleeves.
A sexual cocktail that made would you wanna do bad thing, party, rip your clothes off and be free.

Now I know what your thinking? How in the hell could a five year old look at this artwork and feel these things urging him to do such things. Well it wasn't as I was ready to stand under a red fucking lam post at the tender age of six. But the music did make wanna shake my rhythm stick, and that too was because my aunt Jane taught me how to dance. But I knew Primal sounds when they met my ear drums and to me music was sex and aural orgasm. It would be another seven years before I took the plunge and lost my virginity. Looking back at these sleeves I am forever changed because I knew that something in the realm of art was running through my blood. So when I was at the tender age of 10 and bought my first album with my own money I bought Blondie's Parallel Lines. Another album coaxing me to live in sin and drunken delirium. I honest feel that the art of rock album has shaped me in some weird and perverted way, to which I am proud. From Johnny Cash signing to a bunch of convicted criminals, to Janis Joplin be documented as property of The Hells Angels(Outlaws), I was sold. From seeing Bowie morphed into a dog and a sexual freak signing Rebel Rebel and making me jump and learn to strut, to my aunt Jane dressing me complete with sequins in her gear to mime Someone Save My Life Tonight in front of my whole school at the tender age of five and tapping into my competitive gene. I am still forever changed.

Truth is I have these records and are forever apart of my family history and tree. and to my dad and aunt Jane I am thankful that they introduced me to a two pivotal ingredients in my life. Rock Music and Art. It was also around this time my parents took me to see Fritz The Cat.. But that too is a whole different story.

Saturday, 18 April 2009

Straight Woman THIS IS the new look for JU!

Ok like I said before to watch a woman put on her make up is a quit erotic ritual to watch. But it has been brought to my attention that a little ol rivalry between to cosmetic lines virtually selling the same slap has perplexed me. Since when did woman start wearing make up like drunk tranny whores after a six day crack binge. I mean come on, you seriously can't expect to land a man with that fucking look. Well maybe if your man like trannys. Speaking by English standards most do. They'll fuck a man in a dress by the first quack of crack. Maybe a shrill "Fierce" from the town drag queen but I can not see that women would actually go out in public with that type of face on.. In broad daylight? Lets look at the first picture. Would you let alone glue shit like that to your face. The point is to sell make up not fucking scare the bejesus out of all and sundry. Looks like "it's" make up kit took a shit on her face and home-girl lost the battle. Now don't get me wrong I am all for flying the freak flag sky high but I don't want to look like a fucking clown when doing it, well not in public anyway . The only people I can see pulling these looks and colours are drag queens, club kids, tranny's, fat girls whom only hang out with gay men or my brother to one of his club nites.
I make fun of fat goths whom insist on going out in broad daylight in pleather and ruffles with a face full of make up. Cause then I get the notion that they insist on wearing layered plastic clothing and pvc in hot weather, sweat under the bologna tits and God knows what comes to mind and make me feel a little faint or wince. But I have to give them props cause I am all for their bravery to look the way the do sans the fear gene. If only they actually dressed like zombies, would be way cooler. I think their insistence of wearing dripping mascara and blood stains and flour on their faces should be unlawful for sake of human decency. So don't get me started on Conchita Gonzalez Romero Cisneros in pic 3. But woman everywhere in Southern California and yonder are painting their faces in shades to make the town whore ooze her panties thick with cream.

You have BitchSlap Cosmetics (I am not making this up_) whom encourage woman to embrace their inner drag crazy crack whore drunk on make up, just happens to main line liquid eyeliner!
You also have Forever Glamourous Cosmetics who is manned by a chirpy pleasant woman whom seems to have a heart of gold and in her videos seems nice enough, BUt! And there is a big but and not the kind in reference to an although. Chica has the wrong face to be selling cosmetics called Forever Glamourous. Maybe Forever Puta or Crazy Chola, till you wash it off... Hey, at least she is her own product. and if your going to peddle ones ass, it might as well be your own. Yo can expect to see this coming to a super market near you, but I think once Paris Fashion Week gets wind of this I believe thy will create some bullshit as such. .. to keep it real. I can't see a woman going to a date wearing this crap at least without a veto from her male companion or counterpart. Serious this make up looks like gay rape in a compact. This is the type of make up job that happens to a girl whom passes out at a party drunk, and everyone decides to do her make up while also drunk. MAybe a little girl getting into her brothers make up kit tucked in the closet.. at most but see for yourselves. WOULD YOU BUY MAKE UP FROM A FACE LIKE THAT? This look reminds me of the cross dressing hookers on Santa Monica Boulevard whom used to hang out in front of Carl's Jr. on weekends in full puta gear and splendor. Perhaps it does cost alot to look this cheap. But if it looks like Ho, smell like a ho and acts like a ho.. I bet my two salty nuts it's going to be a HO fo SHO with perhaps some snacks underneath. So you might wanna check under the hood before you take it out for a test drive.

Perhaps these women without even realizing it have found a new fetish for men. Looking like a drag queen for their mens. Works for me. Anything to keep the party going, and for me thats not alot. Then again I can be a cheap date, don't ask. But then as your man is humping and pumping away you might want to have a look in his goodie drawer for the latest issue of DOLLS With BALSS or a copy of Tranny Gang Bang Volume 3: The Ass MANAGERIE! It might indicate where your headed.

I do think that these woman would pass for woman for that matter if they were to go out with that crap on their face.. Especially the one whom claims to be a Master of Make UP. Being that these woman buy their products from a manufacturer who deals in selling private label cosmetics they are in essence the same product under different guises. But still I am shocked that any potential customer would attempt these looks without the intent of visiting the local gay bar. SO you heard it here first...

Pack it on slap it on and apply it with a trowel All you need now is them clear heels for that all encompassing WHORE LOOK!


In between my stupors and work schedule I do try and stimulate my feeble brain with real culture. Now I am not talking about my monthly trip to Browns Strip Joint across the street from my studio either. But I got to say I am a sucker for their Double Kentucky Bullit Bourbon and Coke. Time to make momma pretty! So there is a exhibit that is in Ye Mary Ol London that is a must see. Not only for tattoo lovers and collectors but art buffs in general. The Koniyoshi exhibit at The Royal Academy Of Art is on from now till June 7th. Beautiful washes and works that cover his body of work. Although I am not known for doing Japanese work, I am inspired by his use of image and striking composition. My favorites are his single studies and the show is worth coughing up the 10 shekel fifty to see these prize works.
The show features a 150 of his works and shows him as a master at what he does. Not to mention laying the ground work for most current working tattoo artists the world over. Definitely a killer way to spend an afternoon. For times and scheduled visits are available at The Royal Academy Of Art

Sunday, 5 April 2009

Who Would Kicks Who's Ass?

In this corner weighing in at a staggering 270 pounds (19 1/2 stone) at 5'10 in flannel and timberland boots, driving a Range Rover Sport(spurt). Ladies and gentlemen I give you Barry. To my right in the D&G jeans and cropped pink t weighing in at 138 pounds (9 stone) and equipped with enough bad credit and debt, I give you Jules.

In n all great battles there are numerous things to consider before placing bets on whom can kick who's ass. Thier are the issues of size, hight, stamina, physical prowess etc. etc. Now we have to types of people Bears and Twinks. Both have assigned bars and both have a attire and looks that is immediately identifiable. It's fair to say that some twinks will loose thier hair and grow guts and their levels of testosterone will kick in and once they hit their 30's may suddenly look like bears. As mush as it is to say that some bears fancy twinks, as easily as they do a bucket of fried chicken. Fuck yeah the pun was intended. Now I have read that a new trend of Guerrilla Gay/Bear Bar crashing. A social network passed online that informs it's members to take over a bar for a night that Gays themselves wouldn't normally go into. Oh you know like, biker bars, strip clubs, sleazy joints complete with Oriental whores whom turn tricks in the back alley( a fave of mine). No these guys go to other gay bars where their less likely to be assulted. Kinda like going to Gay Dinseyland and having to be sly about taking your drugs there as well. There is no real threat, no sense of danger or even adventure. Why because you know what type of rides are their... Pretty much same shit different park. To me it sounds like your typical suburban bullshit that some guys think is cutting edge. I pass!

I was in Cuff's in Silver Lake years ago and talked to a guy whom was obviously from West Hollywood. He said, 'We Ho guys go to Silver Lake when they want to find a Top. Made sense to me, and I lived in Silver Lake and rarely went to We Ho. Well here
we have two guys: Both drink, suck dick and both would stick their mugs in an ass crack if they saw fit.
Exhibit A: Dress Sense.
Bears: wear the bear uniform. T-shirt and jeans sometimes that lame flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off. Buckskin boots or leather boots. Don't wear cologne or perfumes. Attempt to listen to a broader range of music may like classical.
Twinks: Where pretty much anything that makes them appear current fashionable and supposedly trendy. Shiny fabrics, T-shirts diamontes on them. Like to think their lives are one big Sex And The City Episode. Reak of Designer/Imposter Perfume shit! Love Madonna, Kylie and shit that any 9 year old wets their pant for.
Exhibit B: Drink and???
Bears: Bears drink beer.... hence the bear bear gut. Some suprisingly have six pack abs and actually eat. Some are all roided up and take drugs socially. No I have to say that London's gay scene can be pretty flexiable on the issue of Stimulants. Fine by me. Some bears just stick to beer and or whiskey. Most bears are a little less body consciouss than twinks and are slightly more confident so you will see one or two rude drunks as a whole not many.
Twinks: Drink Cocktails, some drink beer to many carbs tho. The sad thing is that at sometime you will run into a snooty rude drunk normally around 23 complete with the gay gasp and just a shit stain on the underwear of life when drunk! Mostly due from insecurity. Most can be pretty light weight line per line matched with the expierience of a bear in that department.
Exhibit C: Fight
Bears: Most really are not aggresive or even mean, but the size of some can be quite imposing. Because these dudes sweat, most twinks may not like the idea of a hairy sweaty torso in front of their grill! Unless a really fat one just sat on a twink!
Twinks: Of course the twink can just spritz the bear in the eyes with his cologne and sucker punch the dude in the cock.
Or just the shrill pitch of his voice when screaming would be enough for a bear to recoil in fright. Nature gives every creature a source of defence.

But thinking of this, the twink would probably be a power bottom and the bear would fall in response to be called Daddy and love till he pumped and dumped. Then it would be over. I do know that most bears tend to keep to their own and some twinks actually fancy the shit out of bears Yet if it had to be a bar brawl, Hmm I woulld place my noeny on the bear. but you know that little pissy bitch would go down swinging. Perhaps its just what ever makes your johnson stand at attention. Yet, with all those sparkles and cologne could prove to distracting for any real action to take place. But if i had to choose... ok I'll say it bear! When I met my partner I was seeing someone whom was 24. To him we were hanging out. To me at 34 we were fucking and occasionaly hanging out. But my partner is no bear cause I don't affiliate myself as one.. Just a big Irish dude..and I like that! Yeah!

Friday, 3 April 2009

This woman could sell me a bottled fart and I would buy it!

Styling and the unsung Cholo Y Chola!

Growing up in a barrio in Santa Ana my dad worked to keep me and my brother out of the criminal element.  I wasn't allowed to wear wino shoes and dress as the other kids did.  When your surrounded by chicanos designer is a no go. My mother always thought it was just unfashionable and not a good look for her kids.  Today.. it's a different story.  Some how the chola is just as mystical a creature to style as Charo crossed with Dolly Parton.   The higher the hair the closer to godliness.  The eyebrows painstakingly executed.  To some the cholo is a figure of heightened masculinity, maybe a sexual fantasy.  The chola a form of kabuki and drag with a quete in her purse.  Cholos and Cholas would walk in a full unison side by side to make others walk in the street whom were not from there barrio/street.  Now I see that the cholo style has become, dare I type it "IN".
     The most high profile style vampire of this sub culture is Gwen Stefani.  Be it she too is from Orange County and no stranger to chicano chic.  But I have to admit.. it all started with the Pachucco's of the thirties and forties..  The Zoot.  Pressed and starched and out cruising.  Not in the gay sense of lurking in the fucking bushes of Hampstead Heath.  My cousins on my dad's side would iron and starch their plain white tee's and stay impeccably white.  Keeping their jeans prison blue.  My dad would tell me how he maintained his clothes while locked up in jail.
The thing that has always impressed me about the chicano culture is that they showed a great pride in actually dressing.  Be it you didn't need a lot of money and it was a look that was cheap and affordable, but took time to groom and get ready. I still dry clean my 501 and people always ask how I keep them so deep true blue.  It's amazing that the Barrio has become a style that the Japanese kids inhabit.  The gangster script seems to be a favorite with some of our shop customers.  Yet most of them have never even seen a drive by let alone ever been jumped.
    As for the Chola.... My tia Stella son had a girlfriend whom was your typical chola.  That bitch would paint her face down.  The eyebrows were arched to make any drag queen sigh in envy.  Lashes double stacked and gravity defying hair.  As a kid I saw her apply her make up for a full hour.  If you ever watch a woman do her make up it is quite a erotic to sit and watch such a ritual.  So now tagging/graffiti is hung on Gallery walls and kids at malls want to buy the latest
pair of Dickies.  The cholo styling has come along way, but the one thing that always mak me chuckle with laughter is the  GAY CHOLO/CHOLA.    You can normally spot them, their easy to identifu cause the both pluck their eyebrows.