Dirty Google Searches For Sex. And Nice Dinners.

Scanning recent Google searches that landed somebody on JMG reveals this gem from this afternoon:

"I'm just looking for a good broad built hairy chested masculine man who will fuck the hell out of me, rim me, suck me and take me to nice dinners."

Is that asking too much? I wonder....

From Twin Peaks, Looking North

If you embiggen the pic, perhaps you can make out the south tower of the Golden Gate Bridge.

"Mark Foley Is Gay!"

"Mark Foley is gay!" - Ray Rogers, page 26, Pride Magazine 2005, in the article Power Outage, for which my associate editor and I posed in a bathroom stall, hands over our faces, for the pictures accompanying the article.

So color me unsurprised.
.

Letterman On McGreevey

Too good to pass up....

David Letterman's Top 10 Chapter Titles For James McGreevey's The Confession:

10. The Day I Got Caught Governing Myself
9. How To Pretend To Like Girls For 47 Years
8. From Schwarzenegger-Pataki: Governors I'd Like To Oil Up
7. Another Confession - I Can't Resist Entenmann's Pound Cake!
6. At First I Thought I Was Bipartisan
5. The Jersey Budget Crisis - What Would Judy Garland Do?
4. A Look At The Governor's Balls
3. Politicians Who Left A Bad Taste In My Mouth
2. How To Push Through A Bill - Or A Steve Or A Larry
1. Why I Don't Like Bush

Folsom Party Reviews

It typically takes me a week to digest a major party......

Magnitude- ** (two stars)

Located at SF's Gift Center, a sort of non-retail mall, this year's Magnitude was generally viewed as a disappointment, due to the lackluster music. The execution of the event was excellent from beginning to end, however, starting with the hilariously forced drama of having ticket holders enter the venue by climbing five stories up the dimly-lit rear exterior metal fire escape stairs. (Disney does the same thing on Pleasure Island.) Getting a drink was generally hassle-free, the temperature was well-maintained, and the thousands of hot men made enduring the monotonous clump-clump-clump, boots-in-a-dryer, a bit less painful...however, in the end, it was the terriffically dull soundtrack that killed our joie de cuir. (Disclosure: I have an old association with the Magnitude party, having had a part in producing its 2000 CD release.) And a big shout-out to the JMG readers that I met at Magnitude: Adam, Pete, Ricardo + BF, Damien, and the three Davids.

Real Bad - *** 1/2 (three & 1/2 stars)

My children, THIS is the event upon which to model all others. A completely volunteer-run event entirely benefiting local gay/HIV charities, Real Bad turned in another brilliant installment in its unblemished 18 year history. Flawlessly executed from the door to the dance floor, I only subtract a half-star from an otherwise perfect score because of the venue's staggeringly unbearable heat. It was hot. It was Africa hot. Tarzan never had that kind of hot. At one point, I found myself in a long subterranean tunnel under the club with about 30 other bears, as we leaned on the cool concrete walls for their blessed relief.

The venue, 1015 Folsom, one of the most famous dance arenas in the world (and a former bathhouse, as I recall), has gone through a massive gut renovation, and even though I'd been there many times, I never seemed to get a handle on the new floorplan. So many rooms, so many floors! The nitrogen blasts on the dance floor only provided a momentary respite from the heat, so it wasn't until well into the party that I returned to the main dance room, where first-time Real Bad DJ Pete Savas, of Salt Lake City, took us on a soaring, triumphant journey of beautiful melodic techno/trance, holding us in the palm of his turntable until the very last note at 4am, after which he received a thunderous and well-deserved ovation.

I haven't been that moved by a DJ's performance in a long, long time. At one point, I had turned to my friend Leif Wauters (of Hot House and a Real Bad volunteer) and said, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" He said, "I don't even want to say it." What we were thinking was that Sevas' performance reminded us very much of the late DJ Neil Lewis, our dearly missed friend, who left us in 2004. After his applause died down, DJ Pete Savas opened the microphone and delivered a poignant, stuttering thanks, choked with occasional sobs, which got us all verklempt. I was as moist as my jeans! Thanks to JMG readers Donovan, JP, Eric, Andy (Otterpop), and others for saying hello. Big thanks to my buddy Kitchenbeard for hanging out with me.

Confession A Hit

Color me surprised to see that everybody's least favorite homo, James McGreevey, actually has a best seller on his hands. His autobiography, The Confession, enters at #3 on the next New York Times hardcover non-fiction list. Amazon is showing it at #71 overall. Was anybody else hoping/expecting/praying for The Confession to tank?

Remember The Party

Don't forget to remember the party! Sunday, October 8th in SF, DJ Jerry Bonham takes the musically faithful down a glittery, mirror-balled street full of Trocadero Transer memories at Remember The Party 5, the fifth installment in a series of events celebrating San Francisco's gay disco heritage. It's killing me that I won't be there. Killin' me, I tells ya!

The World Can't Wait

On October 5th, people everywhere will walk out of school, take off work, and come to the downtowns & town squares and set out from there, going through the streets and calling on many more to join us - making a powerful statement: "NO! THIS REGIME DOES NOT REPRESENT US! AND WE WILL DRIVE IT OUT!"

I will be one of hundreds of thousands of New Yorkers gathering near the United Nations Building at Dag Hammerskjold Plaza at noon next Thursday for the Day Of Mass Resistance. Find out where to take part in your hometown here. I can't imagine a more noble use of a personal day off, can you?

Open Thread Thursday

Do you get what you give? Does it all come back? Do you believe in karma?
.

Top Three Folsom Quotes

Powerhouse, Friday 1AM

"Hello! My name is Ron. I was hoping to enjoy someone's penis this evening and you appear to have one."

Magnitude, Saturday 3AM

"If you decide to blog about this, can you make my cock bigger?"

Folsom Street Fair, Sunday 3PM

"This is the most twisted group of sick perverts I've ever seen. I want to marry all of them."

Morning View - International Orange

In Review

ABOVE: Rock Daddies: Rich Morel, Bob Mould.
ABOVE:Eddie gets his Blowoff on.

ABOVE: Crowd pleasers!

ABOVE: Nothing is more beautiful than young love. Nothing, this is,except hot young leather cubs in love who like to make out in public. These two? Winners: Folsom 2006 Most Fuckable Men, Generation Other Than Mine Division.

Perfection

I'll put up a longer review of the major parties soon. In the meantime, here's a trio of photos that nicely capture the three defining events of Folsom 2006 for me. TOP: The world's greatest DJ and my dear friend Jerry Bonham headlining the dance stage for thousands of sweaty, horny, happy leather clad perverts of all 27 (currently named) genders. MIDDLE: The men behind the best album of 2006, Blowoff's Rich Morel and Bob Mould headlining the main stage for a jumping, sexy, alt-rock, art-rock, dance-rock, fag-rocking close to a pitch perfect day. BOTTOM: The sweet green icing flowing down on my day was spending it with my beloved Dougie, the man who made leaving SF just about the hardest thing I've ever done, seen here with Blowoff and some hairy groupie.

Folsom 2006 Sightseeing Checklist

1. Impossibly repulsive naked old dude carrying a giant snake: Check.

2. Morbidly obese hairy-pitted topless lesbians: Check.

3. Go-go boy working an Audrey Hepburn/Joe Gage/Beyonce stage outfit: Check.

4. Heavily-tatted naked German sex tourists masturbating for "shocked" tourists: Check and check. Can you do that again for the camera?

5. Society of Janus masochists impaled with weighted bloody fishhooks: Check. (Their t-shirts say "Yes, it hurts.")

6. Roving packs of spectacularly high porn stars, their manhole-cover-sized pupils hidden behind enormous reflective aviators: Check, on every corner. The stables of the competing porn studios took up positions on opposing corners. It was *this* close to turning into the big dance number with the Sharks and the Jets, only with way more nipple rings. Rita Moreno nowhere to be found.

7. Possibly dangerous, definitely deranged street person dancing to his own imaginary DJ: Check.

8. Exposed cottage-cheesed droopy ass cheeks fluttering in the slight breeze: Lost count due to searing white hot pain in my cursedly working eyes.

9. Freakishly 'roided bodybuilders who make those muscle-morphed porn photos suddenly seem feasible. Check. Today's drink special: Deca Smoothies! Now with more rage!

10. Various publicly performed SM scenes covering the dom/sub, daddy/boy, master/slave, Apple/PC oeuvres. Check times infinity. I flog because I love. You're making me do this. You're lucky I give you my scorn at all. Now thank me for punishing you. Louder. And what did I tell you about talking with my dick in your mouth?

Drum Stud At The Love Parade

Here's a quick viddy I shot of my new favorite musician, Drum Stud. (Our name for him, we don't know his actual name. Anybody? A little help?) Note the highly charged erotic glances shared between Drum Stud and your humble videographer.