My nephew sets me up with a Kazakh stud and "wants to talk about something." Coming out or the Book of Leviticus?

Every year my father celebrated his birthday by hosting a barbecue on the Saturday afternoon closest to June 6th.  I always tried to schedule my summer visits to Rock Island and then to Indianapolis to coincide with it.

Dad died last year, so I assumed that the barbecues were over, until I got a text from my sister's son Joseph,  a doctoral student in Japanese at Indiana University.

"I'm continuing Grandpa's tradition of Memorial Day Barbecues." Of course he wouldn't realize that they were birthday barbecues.  Who knows when his grandfather's birthday is? 

"At Mom's house, or...."

"At my house in Bloomington.  Can you make it?  .I want to talk to you about something."

"Sure, no problem," I responded, curious.  

What could he want to talk about? Maybe he wanted to come out!

Since I lived 500 to 2000 miles away through Joseph's life, I saw him only once or twice a year.  We weren't close, but I always thought that he was gay.  He was flamboyant and theatrical, swishing and limp-wristed, with that nasal "gay accent" voice.  He wore bright pastel shirts and tight bulging jeans and plastic bracelets.  He occasionally brought a girl to Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, but surely that was just a screen.

Definitely coming out.  

But -- he graduated from a Catholic high school, and did his undergrad at the Quaker-run Earlham College.  His mother was music director at a Nazarene church.

Maybe he turned fundamentalist, and wanted to quote Leviticus at me?

I'd better stay with my friend Tyler in Indianapolis, in case I needed to retreat quickly. 

And bring David from San Francisco for moral support.  He was an ex-Baptist minister with a master's degree in Classics, an expert on the Biblical passages used to promote homophobia.

We arrived on Wednesday and saw my mother and my sister and brother-in-law, but not Joseph, not until Saturday afternoon, the barbecue: hot dogs, hamburgers, and tofu burgers grilled in the back yard of Joseph's 100-year old house just outside Bloomington.

How did they afford it, when he and his roommates were all graduate students?

We said hello to Joseph, gave him the plate of brownies we brought, then pushed our way through the crowd, saying hello, getting introduced.  I counted over 20 people. All heterosexual as far as I could tell -- with one exception.

A young guy on the far side of the yard, talking to someone I didn't recognize. Shorter than me, dark-skinned, square head with heavy eyebrows and a big smile, a v-shaped torso, a hard smooth chest with prominent nipples, a little belly, and heavy, square workman's hands.

"I call the hunk," I whispered to David, and walked over to introduce myself and cruise him.  

Then Joseph grabbed me.  "Can I talk to you for a second.  Without David?"

He took me onto the screen porch.

Uh, oh -- this is it! I thought.  He's either going to come out or pull out a Bible!

But he said "Is David your boyfriend?"

"Uh -- no,"

"Ok, good.  I didn't expect you to bring anyone...um...so I got a date for you."

"What?" A blind date?

"I know what it's like to feel out of place at these family gatherings, so I invited Ravi, from Kazakhstan.  He's just come out, and looking to meet people.  And he likes older guys."  He grabbed my knee.  "I got you tickets to a dance concert tonight -- but I didn't know David would be here, so I just got two."

"Oh, no problem, he sounds great.  We can get a third ticket."

Kazakh, the language spoken by the Turkic tribes that descended on Central Asia a thousand years ago:

I like to eat big sausages.
Turkish: Büyük sosisleri severim
Kazakh:Men ülken şujıq jewge unaydı

More after the break. Caution: Explicit.

Lou Ferrigno: My Late-Night Hookup with The Incredible Hulk

 

When I was living in West Hollywood, I worked part-time as an editorial assistant on Muscle and Fitness.  

It wasn't as much fun as it sounds.  The articles were often heterosexist, we featured female bodybuilders as often as male, and  I didn't get to actually watch many photo shoots.

But I did get to talk to some bodybuilders, including Lou Ferrigno: Mr. America, Mr. Universe, Hercules, and The Incredible Hulk

He was most famous for The Incredible Hulk, about ten years before.  I never watched, but I knew the basic premise: It starred Bill Bixby as David Banner (changed from the Marvel comics' Bruce, which the network censored deemed too gay).  After the death of his wife, of course, he experiments with human strength, and Jekyl-Hydes himself into Ferrigno's green-skinned man-mountain: "Don't get me angry.  You wouldn't like me when I'm angry." 

One day Ferrigno came in with Bill Bixby.  I thought they looked like a gay couple.

A few days later, he came in by himself for a photo shoot.

"Hi, Mr. Ferrigno." I called.  "Where's Bill?"

"I left him home, chained up in the basement."

"Can I come take a look?"

He grinned, clapped a huge hand on my back, and walked on.

Asking around, I was told: "Ferrigno is straight, but he won't say no to a late-night blow job."

I kept a lookout for Ferrigno's next appearance.  It came near Halloween, when I was working reception, a part of the job I hated.

"You got a promotion, I see," he said with a cruisy smile.

"I'm a jack of all trades around here, but usually I'm in editorial."

"Then be sure to spell my name right."

"Only if you spell mine right.  I'd better write it down for you."

He didn't object, so I wrote it on a piece of paper.  "And my phone number, in case you have any questions."

"Good idea.  I might have questions."

He put the number in his pocket and went off to his appointment.  About half an hour later, he came through the lobby again and stopped at my desk.  "Do you like ____?"

I didn't understand his deaf accent (Ferrigno has 80% hearing loss).  "Mexican food?"  Was he asking me out?  "Sure.  What time...."

Then someone else came in, and he mouthed "I'll call you," and left.

At least that's what I think he said.

I told all my friends that I had a date with Lou Ferrigno, and waited for his call.

It never came, so I forgot about it-- I was giving my phone number to a lot of people at the time.

Then one night in  January shortly after Alan the Pentecostal Porn Star and I broke up, I was at home, watching tv and doing some reading for my seminar in Dante at USC, when Lou knocked on my door!

"Is this a good time?" he asked.

My one-room apartment was a mess -- unmade bed, dinner dishes out, books and papers everywhere.  Besides, I was in my bathrobe, and I hadn't brushed my teeth since dinner. But who's going to say no?

He collapsed onto the bed.  "Boy, I'm tired.  I could use a nap."

"Ok, let's take a nap."

I climbed onto the bed next to him, and he wrapped a huge arm around me.  I moved up and started unbuttoning his shirt and kissing his chest.

More after the break. Caution: Explicit

"You're the Worst," Episode 5.6: Is Jimmy hooking up with his buddy? Is Rapper Sam still bi? Is Dax a gay porn star?

 

Recently American comedies have been breaking the longstanding rule that sitcom characters have to be nice, the sort of people you'd want to invite into your home in real life.  Of course, the British have been doing it for years, but in the U.S. it's so uncommon that it still comes as a jolt to see someone who isn't very likeable in a sitcom.

You're the Worst, on Hulu, warns you in advance. Jimmy and Gretchen (Chris Geere, Aya Cash) are horrible, amoral people who dislike each other (well, except in the bedroom) and pursue a five-season long romance culminating in a series-finale wedding.  The B-plots usually involve the marital squabbles of another amoral couple who dislike each other, Edgar and Lindsay (Desmin Borges, Kether Donohue).  

I already reviewed an episode where rapper Sam Dresden  gets cancelled for using the f*-word, but turns out to be ok with gay men -- they're good at sucking.  To see if he is still bisexual or straight-but-open-to-oral interests, I reviewed Episode 5.6,  "This Brief Fermata."  According to the Google AI, "A fermata is a musical symbol indicating that a note should be held longer than its normal duration."

Scene 1: Jimmy and Gretchen are planning the table seating for their wedding reception, but Paul, Allan McLeod, is too boring to be placed.  They deserve a break from the drudgery of planning the wedding.  Jimmy suggests Fuck Week, a week where they can have sex with whoever they want.  He is surprised that Gretchen is so quick to agree.  

Scene 2: Monday.  At her job at the public relations firm, Gretchen checks out the hunk bulges and butts.  Assistant Lindsay notes a problem with Rapper Sam, Brandon Mychal Smith: his new track is bad, "Vietnam bad."  

But Gretchen doesn't care: it's Fuck Week, so she and Lindsay can go "day dicking" like they used to, at the Museum of Tolerance and Barney's Beanery -- wait, the notorious "Fagots keep out" joint?

First she has to sign up the new guy, Nok Nok -- Lou Taylor Pucci, top photo.  She figures he's so spaced-out, he'll be easy to snare, but he wants to hear the full pitch -- "Strategy, targets, concept art."  Uh-oh, she'll have to do work instead of getting dick.

Scene 3: Tuesday: Gretchen and Jimmy eat Chinese food while watching Nok Nok's videos and trying to come up with a pitch.  Jimmy has lipstick on his collar -- he's already successfully gotten laid.  Wait -- Buddy Edgar brings him a drink and gazes lustfully, but Jimmy shakes his head. Did they have sex, or is Edgar offering?

Cut to Wednesday: Gretchen revealing her pitch to Nok Nok.  He doesn't like it: how about a hard-scrabble life?  He was on the street at age 15, and he's a single dad?  

Assistant Lindsay went out dicking yesterday, and she, too successfully got laid. By the way, Rapper Sam is angry because his new, terrible track hasn't seen any radio play yet.  But screw it: Gretchen is going to forget about work and get some dick.

Scene 4: Thursday.  Jimmy comes in with a hickey, having gotten laid again. Another lustful gaze from Buddy Edgar.  Are they going at it?  Gretchen is still working. 

More after the break. Caution: Explicit

Hung Harvey: I hook up with the boyfriend of Sabrina the Teenage Witch

I was back in West Hollywood for my friend Larry's annual Oscar party.  On March 25th, the night before, Lane and Randall the Muscle Bear with the Pierced Penis took me out to all our old haunts: Bodhi Tree, Different Light, the French Quarter, the Gold Coast, and the Faultline.

But we never made it to the Faultline.

I was struck by a twink sitting at the bar in the Gold Coast. A little shorter than me, broad shoulders, very handsome round face with sandy hair and glasses, kind of a Harry Potter look except for the lumberjack shirt.

I sat next to him.  He said "Howdy, pardner," and held out his hand to be shaken.

I made a quip about Hogwarts.  He countered with a quip about Lemony Snicket's Unfortunate Events.

Our legs pressed together under the bar.  "Can I buy you another beer?" I asked.

"Heck, I'll buy you a beer.  I'll buy everybody a beer.  Drinks are on me!"

"Well, I don't really drink."

"A virgin margarita, then.  You have to let me buy you something.  I can afford it.  I'm Harvey, and I'm always going to be Harvey, no matter what they say!"

Was that name supposed to mean something?  All I could think of was Harvey the Giant Rabbit in the James Stuart movie. 

 "Ok, Harvey, a Coke will be fine."

He seemed a little soused, but not unbearably so.  I reached out, unbuttoned a couple of buttons of his lumberjack shirt, and slid my hand down to feel his firm, hairy chest.  Few twinks have that much hair -- I was hooked!

I reached down and groped him.

Nice bulge.  Maybe an 8-incher beneath the belt.  I was even more hooked!

"Hey!" Harvey exclaimed.  "This place is dead!  Let's go to the Rage!"

The notoriously noisy twink bar? But I was over 23

"Well, I'm here with my friends.  We were going to the Faultline.  We're a little old for the Rage."

"Nonsense.  You're with me.  Harvey can open every door."

The Rage was only a few blocks from our old apartment.  Maybe it would be fun.

It wasn't.  The music was blaring, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and poppers, and there were swarming munchkins everywhere.  It was uncomfortable for everyone, especially the bears I dragged along.

They sat at one of the little round tables, Lane with a soda and Randall with a beer, while Harvey and I danced.  Or did whatever swaying movements we could with the press of gyrating twinks.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder.  It was Randall.

"Hey, either seal the deal and let's go home and screw," he yelled, trying to make himself understood over the roar, "Or drop this twink and let's go home and screw!"

"Ok, ok."  I took Harvey by the hand and led him to a dark area where couples went to kiss.

"What do you want to do now?" he asked, grinning.

"What do you think?"  I put my arms around him, and we started kissing.  He allowed only a brief kiss-- not very impressive.  I reached down and groped him again.  His Kielbasa became aroused, but he didn't t grope me in return.

A bit cool, but I was too into him to notice.  "Let's go back to my place.  I'm staying in my friends' guest room."

More after the break. Caution: Explicit

"Cucumber": Lots of cucumbers on display as gay life in Manchester gets increasingly dark.

 

Cucumber, on Amazon Prime, is like gay Revenge, with plot twists, hidden agendas, and people who are not what they seem.  It starts out as a comedy, but turns darker and darker.  The nonsensical title, by the way, comes from a measure of erectile hardness, from tofu (semi-soft) to cucumber (rigid).  

Instead of scene-by-scene, I'm going to summarize the various cocksploits and tearjerks.

1. Middle-aged Manchester insurance salesman Henry (Vincent Franklin) gets angry when his boyfriend Lance (Cyril Nri, top photo) brings an anonymous guy, left, home for a three-way.  Maybe if you'd asked first, and waited for him instead of just going down?

Henry calls the police and has the two arrested (on what charge? consensual sexual acts are legal in Britain.), 

2. Henry moves out and seeks refuge with a twink couple from work, Dean and Freddie (Fisayo Akinade, Freddie Fox, left).  And starts flirting with Freddie!  Wait -- you get all huffy when your boyfriend wants an open relationship, but it's ok for the twinks?

Freddie the Twink says "No, thank you, we're monogamous."

3. Henry is upset because Freddie the Twink rejected him, but then goes out and hooks up with another old guy, Cliff (Con O'Neill).

4. Meanwhile Ex-Boyfriend Lance tries to hook up with Straight Guy Daniel (James Murray, left).  He refuses: "Sorry, I'm straight."

5. Henry's Sister and her hot teenage son Adam (Ceallach Spellman, right) arrive to stay forever. Henry decides to make some extra money filming his nephew having sex with other guys.

Meanwhile Ex-Boyfriend Lance empties the joint checking account. Never leave much in that joint checking account, buddy. One tiff, and it's gone.



More cucumbers after the break

"Down Low": Netflix bait-and-switch movie that turns a gay hookup into something dark. With Simon Rex's dick.

 

Down Low, on Netflix (2023). "An overeager massage therapist guides a client with repression through his first queer encounter, but their hookup has a less-than-happy ending." 

A downlow guy lives as a "family man" who has achieved the entire heterosexual trajectory of house, job, wife, and kids, but has sex with men secretly.  Unless "down low" means something else here.

So the family man tells the masseuse that he likes guys, so she hooks him up, and things go south?  Sounds interesting.  But before I jump in, I always conduct some research, to avoid nasty surprises.

WTF?  This plot synopsis on wikipedia sounds like a completely different movie!  There are like a dozen nasty surprises, any one of which would have me "noping" out of there.  

Zachary Quinto stars as "family man" Gary.  I've seen Zachary Quinto in Star Trek, American Horror Story, and The Boys in the Band. Something about his smug, weasly expression grates on my nerves.  Nope #1

He's not on the downlow at all.  He is dying of a brain tumor. Nope #2: no movies about people who are dying of incurable diseases.  Why would anyone ever want to see a movie like that?  How could anyone stand to act in it?  Or write the script?

When he discovers that he is dying, Gary decides to come out, whereupon his wife dumps him.  Not a nope, but really homophobic of the lady to dump him just because he's gay.

The massage therapist is actually a hustler, Cameron (Lukas Gage).  Maybe they do massage too.  This promotional still makes him look like a trans woman, but in the synopsis, the character is always described with he/him pronouns.  Maybe it's a misdirection, so viewers will think that Gary is hooking up with a lady.    

The Hustler uses a dating app to find Gary a hookup  (Sebastian Arroyo).  Wait -- why not just have sex with him yourself?  That's what you're being paid for.

Unfortunately, the hookup does not find Gary attractive enough to screw.  Everyone argues, and he is accidentally killed Nope #3: the abrupt death of a major character. 

Gary and the Hustler hire a Necrophiliac (Simon Rex) to have sex with and then dispose of the Corpse. Nope #4: it's never really come up before, but necrophilia is a big nope.

Due to plot complications, the Necrophiliac can't do his job until the next day, so they spend the night mopping up the blood and smoking crack.  Nope #5: amoral major characters aren't a major "nope," but if I'm already annoyed from watching Zachary Quinto... 

By that time, the Corpse has come back to life and is trying to get away.  The necrophiliac kills him again, and then Gary and the Hustler kill the Necrophiliac.  Nopes #6-7: too many people killing each other too eagerly.  This is definitely not a comedy.

Then they have sex with each other.  You could have just done that at the start, and avoided the multiple murders.  

Later, after Gary dies, the Hustler shows up at his funeral, yells at the ex-wife and the church that abandoned him when he came out, and steals the body.  He dumps it in the lake, which he thinks is a better memorial. Nope #8: portraying gay people as perpetual outsiders, rejected by church and family.  Not really a nope, but way homophobic.

Moral: Always read more than one plot synopsis or watch more than one trailer.  They often make completely contradictory claims.  Remember when Road to Terabinthia was advertised as a fantasy like Harry Potter or The Chronicles of Narnia?  It's about a girl who is dying.

Down Low is not about a guy in the downlow.  It's about a guy who is dying. 

Bonus bulge and dick pics after the break.  Warning: explicit.