Does Kit Harington really have a tiny pecker? And what's wrong with that? With examples of tiny peckers.

 

I never heard of Kit Harington before yesterday, when a reader mentioned that he appears in Season 3 of  Industry.  I was going to do a profile, but got sidetracked by Kit's penis.

I don't like the beard.  He looks better clean-shaven.

Apparently Kit is or was the resident hunk on Game of Thrones.  I only watched ten minutes before being turned by the constant naked ladies, but here he's kissing a guy, so he's played a gay character.

But not in Thrones.  Costar Nicolaj Koster-Waldau notes  “a change in the level of female lust in the room when Kit is there, which all the males find annoying and disrespectful."

First, how can he help it if all the women in the world lust after him?  It's not his fault. 

Second, why do all the males in the world find it annoying.  Surely there's at least one or two gay men on Earth, Nicolaj?

You're from Denmark, which has gay marriage,  and you starred in Bent, about gay men in Nazi Germany.  You played a gay character!  You should know that gay men exist, friggin' homophobe!

I'm already angry with Kit, and he didn't even make the homophobic statement.    

Everyone on the internet thinks that he's got a small dick, due to an article that states that Kit Harington is the reason Jon Snow, presumably his character, has a tiny penis.

But actually the writers "got even" with him for being so attractive -- only to women, of course -- and had someone reference his  character's lack of penile hugeness: "What kind of God would have a pecker that small?

In real life, all we have is this heavily censored j/o session. 

And this photo, from Fleshbot, advertising a "gay make out session" between Kit and Chris Zylka.  Except it's Chris Zylka, whom Kit kisses in The Death and Life of John F. Donovan.

More cocks after the break

Industry: 5 butts, 4 cocks, and 3 chests of the top money-makers at a banking CPS somethings in London

 

Industry is being pushed on MAX as the greatest television series of all time; it has a 100% rating on Rotten Tomatoes; and there's at least one gay character.  Should be an obvious must-watch, right?  

Maybe not.  I've tried getting into it twice, and get immensely bored after five minutes.  It's about money.  The inter-office squabbles of guys in suits making money by making money for other guys in suits, and trying to position into positions of higher power so they can make more money by making more money. 

 Shape without form, shade without colour, 

 Paralysed force, gesture without motion

It's not only boring, it's depressing.  You're in friggin' London. Go to the British Museum and see some art.  

Can we skip the money and just look at some naked guys?

1. David Jonsson, top photo, plays Gus Sackey, the main gay character. He majored in humanities before he sold his soul to Mammon.  Apparently he's closeted, not fitting in to the heterosexist money culture.  According to the Wikipedia, he's "assigned to the Investment Banking Division, IBD, and then the CPS desk.  I don't know what that is, either.

2. Will Tudor as Theo Tuck, the other gay character, an Eton graduate consigned to a lowly position as research analyst.

Guys, seriously, the British Museum has the Rosetta Stone.

3. Harry Lawley as Robert, from a working-class Welsh background, so he doesn't fit in with the upper-class Oxcam graduates working the money angle. There also might be some prejudice against the Welsh. He's on the CPS desk.

And it's open till 20:30 on Fridays

4. Ben Lloyd-Hughes as Greg, VP at the CPS desk.  Ok, I looked it up: CPS means Cross Product Sales, where you try to sell your bank customers things they don't need, like Wells Fargo:  "Oh, you want to open a checking account?  How about an auto loan and a credit card?"

How about the Victoria and Albert Museum?

5.Derek Riddell, here getting sexed up in The Book Club, as Clement, the CPS vice manager.

The St. Paul's Cathedral Choir is performing on Friday night.

More money-making cocks after the break

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