sensualsimpleandunusual:

crushboys:

i mean - what a cute bottom!!!

:)

sensualsimpleandunusual:

bluemanblog:

(Videoboys) - Justin Lebeau and Jake Bass

:)

boysareus2:

brent everett and brent corrigan - 23 min

Not a student in sight until Monday. I had been looking forward to a few days without work and especially without trains, but in the event I am going stir-crazy after only a day and a half, so naturally I decided to have a look at some Russian gay porn sites on your behalf. The photos on some of these sites are unstimulating affairs in which anorexic-looking gay-for-pay young men play with each others’ bums and willies with all the enthusiasm of prisoners slopping out. These anaphrodisiac proceedings are shot in rooms of surpassing drabness, usually done out with grubby flock wallpaper that recalls damp provincial Indian restaurants, sofas from the forties in fecal brown and beige, and what colour there is supplied by the odd seed-packet motif nylon duvet cover or pillow case from a C&A sale, circa 1976. Epic fail, I’m afraid, for this is weeny-shrinking stuff from people whose primary concern should be NOT shrinking weenies. To find any entertainment value here at all, you have to ignore the photos and read the texts that try to seduce you into parting with money to join the site. Addled memories of words, misuse of dictionaries, confusion of registers, ignorance of connotation: it’s almost like being back at work.


In the sad, twilight world of homosexuals, middle aged men meet in secret locations to indulge their urges with innocent Boy Scouts with cute nipples and treasure trails. As is plain from this repugnant photograph, so intent are these men upon satisfying their lusts that no thought is given to the choice of carpet, furnishings or light fittings.
‘Just tell me, have you ever wanted to watching really raw medically checkup pictures featuring fuckable carnivore doctor explore his male patients purple katana?’* Not personally, no, but if your answer is yes, this site is for you, because ‘sultry really degrading doctor is going to tickle next male patient of his.’ Tickle him? That sounds a bit tame for a sultry degrading fuckable doctor, but things promise to hot up, as ‘defiling doctor lines with twink and shag them.’ That’s OK, then. ’Come and see nude boys and males get coarse together!’ God, it sounds like a rugby club dinner. All this tickling, defiling and coarseness appears to be taking place in the bedroom of a Morecambe boarding house about forty years ago. You can just smell the Colgate toothpaste, Palmolive soap and that inexplicable odour of breadcrumbs. Nothing to stiffen the, um, resolve here: click another link.

Here are Jirik and Milos, two boys who fancy one another and spend all day having it away. They have the odd break for a bite to eat and then get back to ‘kissing, hummer and bump uglies every another.’ This won’t do. All gay men find the male tackle utterly fascinating, so ‘bump uglies’ is a truly wretched choice of idiom given the audience. The naff décor of the boys’ quarters is probably rendered even more objectionable by the end of the day because ‘Milos pounded the shit out of Jirik`s fine anus.’ Dear, dear. ’The apartment was in shambles from this all day ride the baloney-pony heavily built orgy’. But never mind, because ‘the guys were happily spent’ as who would not be, after such exertions as ‘having their butts turned into lumps of red, seductive, swollen penial seasoning rocket.’

Penial seasoning is obviously a translation of a phrase for ‘a load’ as we may deduce from this description of Raphael and Eric’s couplings: ‘when Raphael gets to the point of no return he shoots a very big penial seasoning all over Eric’s face.’ It really doesn’t capture the manly joy of ejaculating, though, does it, that bathetic characterisation of Raphael’s load as ‘very big’? It sounds more like congratulating a toddler for something he’s done in his potty. A slightly better attempt perhaps is: ‘once Raphael gets to the point of no return he shoots a very big jizz-o-frizz all over Eric’s pretty face.’ That sounds a bit jollier, even if ‘Jizz-o-Frizz’ could be something you spray from a can at parties. Other attempts to gain verbal purchase on the intensity of malejouissance are regrettable: ‘he just lovers to bust a semen’? Sounds uncomfortable, and ‘he can’t wait to squirt a warmed up cum’ sounds as erotic as flicking bogies.

Raphael, incidentally, sounds like a total cretin, because his mate Eric ‘starts off by giving him a brain to get his juices droplet.’

I have remained unmoved, therefore, by these Russian overtures to my libido and I really mustfind more productive things to do with this time of enforced leisure. Like look for a job… move house yet again… back to teaching for peanuts. For the moment I can’t face it.
*****
*Katana:Japanese longsword with single edge and slight curvature. Used here as a metaphor for the penis. You must picture the lad with a flat, shiny dick that’s two feet long. A katana is silver, but here we must see it as purple. I personally cannot call to mind a cock or a sword after all this.

androphilia:

تلاوات خاشعة

For your listening pleasure – or horror – I have slung together a few of my current favourite pieces of music, and courtesy of Grooveshark embedded them in the side bar here. Better that than music that strikes up as soon as you load the page; utterly naff, if you ask me. It’s quite a mixed bag to my ears, although to some it might, I allow, sound like little more than a compilation of minor-mode wailing and funereal ululation.

We kick off with two excerpts from Philip Glass’s opera Akhnaten. Do not listen to these if you are prone to music-on-the-brain: I swear they have been on an unending loop in my head, night and day, since I bought the CD around this time last year. The Prelude, with its shifting rhythms, undulating arpeggios and sense of swift forward propulsion, produces the exhilarating sensation of rafting on a sparkling river. It’s mesmerising and extraordinarily persistent: impossible to get out of one’s head. Akhnaten’s Hymn to The Aten I find equally hypnotic in its Handelian beauty, and the choral setting of Psalm 104 in Hebrew that ends it is pure bliss. I sometimes think of Akhnaten in the Next World, still heaping his thousand offering-tables with grub for the Sun Disc, having pigs tortured, working the malnourished poor literally to death and listening with satisfaction to his words being sung 3,500 years after he wrote them. How chuffed the megalomaniac whack-job must be that he still has quite a public, despite Horemheb’s assiduous efforts to obliterate all trace of the froot-loop’s reign after Akhnaten, to general relief, slipped off the perch.

Next we have Dumisani Maraire with the Kronos Quartet, performing ‘Kutambarara’, meaning ‘spreading’. I have no idea what it’s about but it has a beautiful spacious sound and is wonderfully uplifting to sagging spirits. There’s a bit of Mari Boine and Jan Garbarek, then Tavener’s Song for Athene. They sang this as they carried Diana’s coffin out of Westminster Abbey, but I didn’t watch that, so it has not been spoiled for me. Some more Kronos Quartet to follow, first with Azerbaijani father and daughter duo Alim and Fargana Qasimov, then with a marvellous performance of Raga Mishra Bhairavi. The Qasimovs are responsible for most of the minor-mode wailing on offer here, so if such music gets on your wick, skip them. Your loss, I reckon. Bhairavi is a morning raga, appropriate between six and ten o’clock, apparently. Listen to it outside those hours at your own risk.

Ravi Shankar and Philip Glass then give us Prashanti, which features a Sanskrit prayer sung by Sripathi Panditaradhyula Balasubrahmanyam. He does a lot of vocals for Indian films. Possibly as well he doesn’t take leading roles, as it would cost a fortune to put that name in lights.

What next? Bit of Azam Ali singing first in tongues and then in Ladino, followed by a sensuous performance by Hesperion XXI of the Ladino song Las Estrellas en los Cielos, beautifully played on the sarod. These Ladino pieces once proved very popular with a group of Saudi students, who borrowed my CDs to burn onto their laptops. Your teacher is a wine-bibbing atheist pouf, I thought, and he’s seducing you with Jewish music. If you only knew.

My musically and academically talented nephew (smart-arse) sent me two CDs of the Black Ox Orkestar, who perform in the other Jewish language of Yiddish, which in place of the vowels and open syllables of Ladino has a gentle, clanking, consonantal sound. Not that you’d know from this one song, as it has no words. Still, it clanks gently enough. There are three songs from Belgian lovelies Lais, and I was dead chuffed to find a couple of songs from the Greek album Sappho, sung by Aleka Kanellidou. This little gem of a CD is a collection of poems by Sappho rendered into Modern Greek and exquisitely set to music by Spyros Vlassopoulos, and now available nowhere. I can’t find any information about Vlassopoulos, and no other album by Kanellidou has ever appealed to me in the least. If anyone has Sappho and can burn it for me, though, they will make a middle-aged grump reasonably happy for a short time.

Finally, there is Mari Boine again, singing ‘Give me a Break’ in the voice of a little girl. This is a song for anyone who has been trivialised or demonised just for being what they are, and at an early stage in their lives taken that mistreatment to heart as if it were their own fault. In Boine’s case, a Sámi. In my case, a gay teen in the seventies. Fill in your own blank.

Mun hálidivččen ealliman

Mun hálidivččen eallit
De váldet dáid muittuid

Ja vuodjudehket meara bodnái

Vai mun in dárbbaš guoddit šat

Daid maid in galgga guoddit

I’d like to have my I own life
I want to be alive
So take these memories

And carry them to the bottom of the sea

So I need no longer carry

It has long been recognised by men of character that the invert, embittered by his lack of progeny and the means to create any, bears nothing save the keenest of jealousy and hatred towards heterosexuals for their enjoyment of those blesséd and inseparable estates of matrimony, parenthood and normality that the invert has perversely elected to deny himself. Homosexuals, though called to celibacy and repentance, yet revel in their perversion, professing pride in their want of maturity, manliness and moral fibre. In their books and films and blogs, they are much given to portraying heterosexuals and Christians as clods and numpties, their purpose being to sow seeds of self-doubt in the righteous. We applaud the male vigour of those who expose the sodomites’ wiles. Pastor Steven L Anderson was interviewed by a self-confessed invert, one so lost to shame as to deny to a preacher that he raped children; whereupon Pastor Anderson, girt about with righteousness, called the man liar to his face and expressed hope for the interviewer’s imminent demise from brain cancer. Thank God for devout Men of Pastor Anderson’s stripe, unafraid to stand up for hatred and the inviolacy of their Christian man-parts!

Beware: experience teaches that there is no depth to which the invert will not stoop. Earlier this month, the Pink News, a ‘gay’ male organ, published an article extolling a new Mobile Telephone Application termed ‘Kroozr’, which it proposed would render less toilsome the sodomites’ task of propagating their perversion:

‘A new iPhone app is threatening to knock Grindr off its perch as the number one app for gay men. Kroozr claims to use smartphone technology to determine whether men in the user’s vicinity are gay and can even filter out undesirables, such as those wearing sandals with socks. According to creator Peter Kelly, the app takes the guesswork out of gaydar, cuts down on valuable ‘sussing out’ time and weeds out weirdos.

‘All users need to do is turn on their smartphone and wait for Kroozr to assess nearby men with its inbuilt Kinsey Scale,’ Mr Kelly said. “Kroozr is the new future of gay dating that will turn every trip to M&S, every queue for the cashpoint, every Boris bike trip into a hot party full of your type of guy. Just fill in the details of your ideal man, turn on the app and go about your business. When you get within eyeshot of a hot guy, you can check him out on Kroozr.”

You really couldn’t make it up … Everything about the depravity, the sadness, the lack of normality, even of humanity, the promiscuity driven by the pathology of homosexuality is distilled into this story.

Although I was initially taken in by Pink News’s April Fool, that is only because it made so much sense to anyone with a tiny bit of knowledge of the ‘gay scene’ and of recent technological advances.