Showing posts with label hookup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hookup. Show all posts

My Date with Michael J. Fox. Plus Marcus and the Scary Bulgarian Bodybuilder.


Friday, July 5th:  
Two days after I arrive in West Hollywood, after my terrible year in Hell-fer-Sartain, Texas, I am sitting in the human resources department at Paramount Studios, waiting to interview for a job as an administrative assistant, when Marcus comes in to drop something off.  He's my age, African-American, with very light skin, freckles, and a hairy chest.  I get his phone number.

You're probably wondering how I got a job interview two days after arriving, when one of those days was a federal holiday.  I had been applying for jobs for weeks, using my friend Tom's address and telephone number.

Saturday, July 6th: Our date, an inside tour of Paramount Studios (yes, we saw more stuff), followed by cruising at the Gold Coast and dinner at the French Quarter in West Hollywood.  He came to Los Angeles to become an actor five years ago, and has had some guest spots in tv shows and movies.

"Do you know anyone famous?" I ask with tourist zeal.

"Nobody really famous.  I mean, some guys on tv.  Robin Williams.  Tom Hulce.  I know Michael J. Fox from acting class."



I'm not impressed.  I've barely heard of Michael J. Fox -- he plays Alex P. Keaton, Reagan-loving son of liberal hippie parents on the sitcom Family Ties (1982-1989),  But I've only seen the show a few times.

Back to the Future, which will propel Michael to fame, premiered on July 3rd, but I haven't heard of it.









Marcus is a good kisser, with a nice physique and a respectable size.  But he likes nude wrestling: I have to pin him before I can go down on him.  Then he doesn't reciprocate, he just grabs me, puts me in sort of a headlock, and falls asleep.  Not my idea of a romantic evening!  

So no more dating.  But we stay friends (that's actually how we made friends in West Hollywood).

Wednesday, July 10th: 
I start working at Muscle and Fitness, two days a week as a "contributing editor," aka gopher.  '

Wednesday, July 17th: I meet Ivo, a stringer for the magazine, about 30 years old, a Bulgarian bodybuilder, with short brown hair, a boyish open face, massive shoulders, and slates for abs.

Saturday, July 20th: My first date with Ivo.  I'm curious about Back to the Future, the new time travel comedy starring Michael J. Fox.

"No way, man!" Ivo exclaims.  "That Mike Fox thinks he's a big deal, but he's terrible in bed.  They should call him Princess Teeny-Tiny!"

Weird coincidence!  I think.  I've been in town less than a month, and already I've met two people who know Michael J. Fox, and one of them is his ex-lover!

But Ivo is apparently better in bed -- very passionate, a top but open to doing interfemoral instead of anal -- kissing during interfemoral is a new one for me.  And open to oral -- twice before the night turns to morning, and again before breakfast.  

Sunday, July 21st: I have brunch at the French Quarter with Marcus, and tell him about my date with Ivo.

"Strange," he says.  "I'm completely out to Mike, and he's never said anything about being gay.  Sounds like Ivo is one of these celebrity name-droppers who claims to have been with everyone from Harrison Ford to Arnold Schwarzeneggar."

"But he wasn't bragging.  He got upset.  He said Michael was bad in bed and should be called Princess Teeny-Tiny."

Marcus laughs.  "Well, I don't have any information on Mike beneath the belt.  But tell you what -- he's in London right now.  When he gets back, we'll all get together, and you can ask him yourself."

Ask Michael J. Fox about his size?  I don't think so!  But it would be fun to meet him.

I date Ivo three or four more times, but his stories become more and more bizarre.

His father was the Bulgarian ambassador; he used to hang out at the White House.  

He has a degree in economics from Harvard, but turned down a professorship because he wanted to be a writer. When he returned to Bulgaria to help his cousin, he was arrested and imprisoned for six months. He has a book on his experiences coming out next year.  

Paramount is producing his screenplay about a college student who discovers that he is half-alien.  Scott Baio will be the star. They dated for awhile.

Saturday, August 3rd: Marcus and I see Back to the Future.  I'm not impressed with the heteronormative plotline.  But, he says, Michael is back in town.  Could we have lunch next Saturday?

Monday, August 5th: Ivo has me over for dinner.  While he is chopping celery, I tell him about the lunch.  He freezes, and his face turns bright red.  "Can't you ever talk about anything but Michael J. Fox?  Day after day, hour after hour, nothing but Michael J. Fox!  And now you have a date with him!"

I try to remember when I last mentioned him. "No, no, it's just a lunch.  Marcus is coming, too."

"Bah!  If you love him so much, why don't you move in with him?"

"It's just..."

"F** Mike Fox, always stealing everybody's lovers!  Well, let me tell you what happened to the last guy Mike Fox stole from me -- I cut him good!"  He stabs the air with his knife.

I am shocked -- and terrified.  Ivo is twice as strong as me, and carrying a weapon. "Fox sounds like a real jerk!" I tell him.  "I'm definitely cancelling that lunch!  Um...you know what?  I forgot to bring in the dessert -- there's a peach pie in the car.   I'll just go get it." 

 I clatter out the door and down the stairs.  

Wednesday, August 7th: He comes into the editorial office at Muscle and Fitness to drop off a story, and pretends not to know me.

Saturday, August 10th: The promised lunch with Marcus and Michael.

Marcus picks me up and drives me to a small, bare-brick cafe on Melrose.  We are just ordering drinks when Michael comes in, wearing a white shirt, buttoned down to reveal a soft smooth chest, tight bulging jeans, and sunglasses.

He's my age, short, slim, androgynous  The feminine teen idol type.

He hugs Marcus and reaches out to shake my hand, then says "What the hell" and hugs me, too.

I feel a definite bulge pressing against me.


"So, are you guys together?" Michael asks as he scans the menu.

"No," Marcus says.  "We dated once, but you know some guys can't handle ten inches."

"They just need a little practice, like that one night after acting class."  He nudges Marcus affectionately.

What night?  Did Marcus and Michael hook up?  Michael is either gay or amazingly gay-positive!

"So..I was dating another guy who claimed to know you," I say.  "Ivo the Bulgarian bodybuilder."

Michael frowns. "Doesn't ring a bell.  But you know how it is, you get a tv show, and suddenly every guy you have ever said hello to claims to be your bosom buddy."


"Or your ex-lover," Marcus adds.  But if he was making it up, why did he get so upset?

More after the break

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 Huluwarns 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.