R.P. Andrews's Blog, page 25

How To Keep the Sex Fresh

How To Keep The Sex Fresh

Okay, he and you have gotten together three, five, seven times, and the sex is hotter than ever.  It looks like this may be a budding fuckbuddyship, or even a friend with benefits, or maybe …

But how do you keep the sex fresh, a dilemma in most relationships, str8 or gay? Sure, a relationship shouldn’t be built on sex alone – that’s why some gay boys end up having a string of ex’s –  but wouldn’t be nice to have a guy you like a lot and who likes you continue the mutual lust factor? This is where role playing or what l like to call “Changing the Set” comes in.  It can be scripted in advance or just happen. Some require a little costuming and props (besides the usual boy toys), others nothing at all. What matters is that your play acting makes the two of you hard before your first hellos.

Here’s a few my fuck buddies and l have tested out with pretty good success:

You walk into the bedroom in your underwear and sneakers and he stands there, military style, totally naked, legs spread and hands behind his back, his junk just hanging there, ready for your very, very thorough physical examination. Or both of you stand in front of one another, totally naked, and begin exploring one another’s bodies – very, very slowly…

You play coach in your gym shorts or jockstrap and sneakers and he plays your junior jock, also wearing only a jockstrap and sneaks, eager to find out what he can do to be named captain of the team…

You both put on those low, low cut singlets, try a few wrestling holds on the bed until somebody’s rising pouch is smack in the other guy’s face…

You’re good old boy truckers, boots, jocks and caps, unwinding after a hard day on the road…

You turn the lights down. You’re both naked in a sex club. You grab this guy – he’s from out of town and has never been in a place like this before – and you show him what it’s all about, starting with a kiss on the lips – or his dick…

You’re two married suburban guys on the downlow who tell your wives you’re out with the guys but as your wives go on a shopping spree with those gift credit cards you got them for Christmas – most women would choose that over a hot night of sex – the two of you never leave the bedroom …

Grab a chair or barstool and some twine, tie your mate’s hands behind his back and his legs to the stool – of course, all he’s got on is a jockstrap – and start having your way with him. Who needs all that bondage equipment from Fort Troff?

Or get in a leather frame of mind with some boots and harnesses…

One night, one of my guys and l were winding down, but his murmuring throughout the night about unbuttoning his shirt  – not that he was wearing one – suddenly made me go to my walk-in closet and grab a couple of my old dress shirts. I threw one to him, left the room and put mine on, then came back in. Instantly, we were two corporate types who had been working on a project into the night when we give one another the eye and start unbuttoning one another shirts real, real slow as we explore our nips, then our chests…

I spent all afternoon today checking out the local thrift shops for some used jumpsuits, you know the kind with those long zippers in the front you can zip down ever so slowly, inch by inch…

Hey, if any of you got some “Changing the Set” scenarios, l’d like to hear ‘em.  My FB’s dick and mine thank you in advance.

 

Boys and Their Toys

Boys and Their Toys

When l was young, sex seemed so easy. You, him, some lube, a bottle of poppers and, depending on persuasions, some condoms. Yes, that’s all you needed to have a good time.

But as we grow older and get bored with plain old suck and fuck sex, we begin to turn to toys to spice things up. I’m not talking about cock rings or dildoes, that’s so pedestrian, except maybe for the dildoes the length of a boa constrictor for fist fuckees. No, when l mean toys, I mean expensive toys like you’d find at Fort Troff, Mr. S Leather, or any of the hook-up sites’ sex shops:

Estim pads and power boxes and various estim accessories to give your dick, balls or ass hole a jolt. And electricity seems to all the rage lately. In more primitive times, my Mafia lover who wanted to keep me when l was kinda young and kinda pretty connected a 6 volt battery, you know the kind you put in those utility lanterns, to a spoon which he put under our balls – zap! It could have been the poor man’s way to reassignment surgery. Funny, the stupid things you’ll do when you’re young – and stupid.

Penis extenders which act as condoms but in a fun way.

Vacuum pumps to make almost any dick look like a size queen’s wet dream. The electric ones are particularly nifty. Just stick your cock and/or balls in and watch them grow. Look ma, no hands!

Israeli surplus gas masks so you can feed your partner poppers or other evil vapors through a hose to make him super high as you go down on his dick.

Ball extenders, crushers, weights, oh, the things we will do to our testicles when we no longer use them for procreation.

Rim chairs – check out your local thrift shops for used home medical equipment – they’re a fraction of the price of those shiny black jobs the leather shops sell.

Butt plugs that vibrate, even rim you.

Fleshlites, fucking machines – who needs a man at all.

Tit suckers and tit clamps that make the old tried and true clothespins so boring for those guys like me whose nips are hardwired to our cocks or, with some men, their buttholes.

For the ultimate in S and M, there’s metal rods called sounds, or silicone snakes you shove down your piss slit which is the last frontier in sexual pleasure yet to be explored by most men. Penis plugs that you can piss and cum through are the junior versions of those longer suckers.

Vibrators of every size including the Hitachi wand for breaking the Guinness Book of Records on getting off.

And of course there’s slings and all variety of bondage accessories. Velcro restraints makes dungeon life so much more efficient.

Now unless you’re creative and get hard-ons like me in Home Depot or Office Depot as you go toy shopping (or your local supermarket – yes, in my bygone bath days l once saw a cucumber on a guy’s nightstand), you can go broke with toy collecting. The average price of most of the stuff l just described starts at around, give or take, a hundred bucks.

But at least you can walk into your local leather haunt or hardware store or buy the stuff online legally from outlets like Fort Troff or Mr. S Leather.

Now when it comes to securing all those other feel good pharmaceuticals to create the proper ambiance in your playroom… good luck Charlie.

 

 

TRT – Testosterone Replacement Therapy Revisited

TRT – Testosterone Replacement Therapy Revisited

I’ve written a lot about my venture into the world of TRT or Testosterone Replacement Therapy which l’ve been doing now for over five years. (Check out my blogs at:

http://wp.me/pXwOp-mT 

http://wp.me/pXwOp-mY

That’s why l found the article, “The Truth About Testosterone” in this month’s issue of Men’s Fitness especially eye opening and a must read for anyone contemplating TRT:

Low T levels generally below 400 l (which is where l was when l started therapy – my T doc tries to keep me in the 800 to 1200 range) lead to decreased libido, increased fatigue, loss of muscle mass, osteoporosis, and even depression and low self-esteem.
While it is rare for young men to have such low levels, most men exhibit these problems north of 50. Interestingly, though, we reach our peak T by age 20; by 30, it’s downhill as much as one per cent a year, which ties into my theory that we homo-sapiens were not designed to live much beyond 40. (Nature is saying, “It’s time to stop making babies – you’re too old!”);
Blood tests before and after TRT are a must; otherwise you’re shooting in the dark and may do yourself more harm than good (see below);
Bodybuilders who want to keep their body fat under ten per cent are only screwing themselves because below that magic number the hormone that makes you a man takes a nose dive; so does excessive boozing and opiate use.
As of 2014, the last year this stat was available, over six million men were getting TRT, thanks in large part to its greater acceptance, and accessibility in the form of rub-on gels (though my T doc says if you’re hairy like me, rub-ons can actually increase your estrogen levels), shots, and time-release pellets which is what l chose. Implanted in the fat tissue of your butt, they last up to six months without the regimentation of weekly shots.
TRT can also have its negative side. Your balls realize they don’t have to produce the stuff anymore so they just stop and can actually shrink, and for guys who wanna make babies, your sperm count can plummet. TRT can also promote the growth of precancerous cells, lead to a heart attack or stroke and may be dangerous for those with sleep apnea.
A friend of mine who came out late in life decided to make up for lost time by shooting himself up with TRT but when he told me his T level was TWO THOUSAND, I told him he was nuts for all the above reasons including increased risk of prostate cancer which feeds off T;
Alternatives to TRT that can promote your body’s own natural production of testosterone include more deadlifts and squats in the gym, and a diet high in protein and vitamin D like steak, eggs, oysters, salmon, nuts, organic skim milk and yogurt.

I had had unusually hectic 2016, what with contemplating back surgery because of unforgiving pain in my legs, then having the surgery which was thankfully successful and uneventful, dealing with a potentially hyperactive hurricane season in south Florida where l live that wimped out, and in the end being forced to delay visiting my ex in Pennsylvania who needed my kick in the ass to attend to his own health needs until December.

So when l called my T doc’s office in February  and found out my last pellets were done almost a year ago, l instantly realized why my sex drive had been in the basement, why my gym workups didn’t seem to be doing much, why l napped too much, and why l generally felt like shit. Sure enough, when the blood work came back my T level was 400. I was long overdue for a pellet pick-me-up.

Well, l got my pellets a couple of weeks ago and while even one of my fuck buddies said, Hey, man, you lookin’ hot!,” l’m not ready to lasso every sizzlin,’ guy l see and rape him on the spot. But l knew my T levels were getting back up there when l lost my temper with one of those cold call Viagra hustlers on the phone. Increased aggression is a tell tail sign.

“Fuck off,” the guy who called himself “Joe” but was probably calling from somewhere in lndia finally yelled back.

No, you sit on it!” l replied as l hung up the phone. That’s when l felt a stupid grin overtake me.

Yea, Mr. T is back and Ray’s got him.

The Homophobic Homosexual

The Homophobic Homosexual

We all think we live in an enlightened age. After all, it was just two generations ago that gay bars were being raided and individuals – citizens of the United States – were thrown into jail simply because they were gay. Now, gay marriage is the law of the land, gay men and women and even transgenders can serve in our armed forces without shame.

Having said that, we also are painfully aware that homophobia in this predominantly heterosexual society is still alive and well.

The Pulse shooter is one painful example. A homophobic’s homophobic who lashed out at gays because he hated himself.

Or look at the Republican Party’s platform for the past presidential election – the worse yet when it came denying LGBT our rights. The Log Cabin Republicans who say Trump is our friend are like the German Jews in the early 1930’s who didn’t believe Hitler would act on his anti-Semetic smears.

Or the persistent ploy by some states to use religious beliefs as a way to discriminate against us in housing, employment – and selling us wedding cakes. And as I said in a recent blog that is only the beginning.

Ah, but there is another, more insidious discrimination going on around us, one the gay media and our sub-culture have only skirted with, at best: homophobia within our own ranks, i.e., the homophobic homosexual, at least among gay guys whom I know the best.

The first category of homophobia within our own demographics is the homosexual in denial, though not off the deep end like the Pulse shooter was. They can be high school or college age students, single adults, even married men and women with offspring. They are extremely conflicted in accepting their sexuality, due to deeply personal, often religious reasons, and their inability and refusal to identify with a sub-culture which appears to overemphasize physicality and, some would argue, hedonism. Consequently, the homosexual in denial will remain silent when the subject of homosexuality arises among family, friends or co-workers, and many actually engage in anti-gay rhetoric as a way of rejecting or masking their own deep seated fears about themselves. Sadly, among them are the gay bashers who act out their frustrations regarding their conflicted sexuality by victimizing the vulnerable. Individuals comfortable in their own sexuality, while not necessarily endorsing or condoning another’s, truly don’t care what other people do in the bedroom as long as it does not adversely affect them.

I have a friend who, at 65, divorced his wife after 27 years of marriage and two children to lead an openly gay lifestyle. Yet when I asked him if he had had any attraction to men when he was younger, he is adamant about his conviction that he did not “become” gay until his late 50’s, something I find hard to accept in light of the growing evidence that sexual orientation has genetic roots.

Next there are the homosexuals who lead active sex lives with other men, be it clandestine encounters or long term relationships, but who remain “in the closet” to family, friends, spouses, co-workers and employers because of very legitimate personal and professional reasons; and by the air of masculinity many of them project, can easily “pass” as straight. Like the homosexual in denial, they are often forced to express anti-gay opinions when the subject arises as a diversionary tactic to deflect any suspicions that they may be one of “them.”

I am not proud to say that as a former senior executive for a Catholic  health care system back in New York, I was one of those people. In my defense, I clearly had justification for such behavior, as I witnessed firsthand a “brother,” who was open about his sexuality and up for the chief operating office position of our organization, being passed over simply because he was gay. In fact, the archbishop was even rumored to have said that no way would he ever permit “a queer” to run one of his hospitals. Eventually, my friend Charlie, who had more degrees and experience than all of our shop’s execs combined, was demoted and forced to resign by our new boss. Two years later, our system filed for bankruptcy.

Years later, in my second career as a college instructor down in Fort Lauderdale, my new home, I befriended a fellow faculty member who came out to me. She and her partner had moved to Salt Lake City from New York, where she eventually became the press secretary for the mayor who, learning of her orientation, exploited it for his own self interests by having her “out” herself to the local media. This subsequently led to a cover story in The Advocate. Now, back on the East Coast and teaching, she was daily mortified that her students would “Google” her and uncover her secret life. In a form of over-compensation, she admitted she was silent and avoided comment when the occasional anti-homosexual dispersion cropped up in her classroom.

Then there is the gay male who I would characterize as the “straight gay,” the homosexual man leading an active and open gay life either solo or with a partner (including divorced fathers raising their children) who, like some closeted gays, projects a totally masculine demeanor and physical presence not unlike a typical American heterosexual male. In his mind he is as much a man as any man in American society and, as a result, he uncategorically abhors and is uncomprisingly critical both privately and in public gay venues of his effeminate, effete counterparts, the “queens,” “fems,” twinks” and cross dressers, even transgenders to whom he cannot relate, and for whom he blames, in large part, straight society’s distaste of gay people.

Ironically, though in lesser numbers than the “straight gays,” there are some effeminate homosexuals who feel equal antagonism towards “butches” whose demeanor they view as hypocritical and pretentious.

Lastly, from the larger, more global perspective, we have the tensions that often arise sometimes subliminally, other times quite overtly, between gay men and gay women, whom many male homosexuals stereotypically feel “hate men.”

All this is more than some overblown sociological dissection of our sub-culture; it points to a very real dilemma and an obstruction in our movement for equal rights under the law. Because of this animosity and prejudicial behavior among us, it is impossible for us to stand as a united front and show heterosexual society that just as it is diverse, so, too, are we and that we – all of us – are not asking any more or less than any other American. The convincing of larger society of this reality is paramount to our success since we cannot forget that the destiny of our equal rights movement still rests in the hands of a body politic, legislators and voters, that is overwhelming hetero (just as back in the’60’s, African Americans relied on a predominantly white Congress for civil rights legislation to be passed) or in present day America, largely conservative Republican.

For attitudes that divide us to change, channels of communication need to be established in some way among the various factions within our demographics, with the end goal to achieve a better understanding of one another and, in the process, ourselves. Challenging given all the reasons I have detailed in this piece? Undoubtedly. Yet the dialogue needs to start somewhere and soon.

Perhaps it can start right here, right now.

“If You Need Porn, You Don’t Need Me.”

“If You Need Porn, You Don’t Need Me.”

I said that once to a guy at a bath house who had rented the deluxe room complete with porn. He continued to watch the telly as we started to do the nasty. Ten minutes of this shit and l uttered the above immortal words and walked out.

In some previous blogs l pointed to the growing trend among gay men, especially a sizable number of younger guys who were breastfed on the internet, of using the porny pics on hook up sites and phones apps along with all the commercial and amateur porn that seems to be flooding the internet infinitum as an end in itself instead serving as a means to an end – making it in the flesh. I’ve also written in the past that in my jaded opinion our sex saturated society is making many of us unaroused by the real thing.

Well my suspicions have been confirmed in the results of a recent British study.  One out of four men under 40 suffer limp dick syndrome, the result of watching too much porn which is desensitizing them to in-the-flesh sex. Also, just like a junkie needing a stronger fix, this addiction to porn leads to the need for a porn of an increasingly more kinky variety when the same old suck-and-fuck stuff no longer does the trick.

There is hope though. The cure, which may take a few months to kick in, is to dump the porn and starting doing more of the real thing. You guys with that bottle of poppers and jar of lube by your laptop, some of you sitting on your favorite pseudo-prick, are you listening??

Making Relationships Work: Do’s and Don’ts

Making Relationships Work: Do’s and Don’ts

You’ve sown your oats, and now you’re ready to settle down with Mr. Right. Sure, buddy, dream on. Like he’ll be waiting for you in the underwear aisle the next time you stroll into Abercrombie and Finch.

Seriously, though, if you met a guy, THE guy, who is more than just terrific sex; who you share commonalities with beyond reciting lines from Bette Davis movies; who’s financially stable, and has no excess baggage like drinking, drugs or psychoses (I know, that leaves out 70% of the gay population – just kidding); and who, most importantly, gives a shit, really gives a shit about your welfare and well-being, what do the two of you need to work at, and relationships are work, to make it last?

Set the ground rules from the beginning, particularly, when it comes to other men, friends, fuck buddies or ships in the night. Every relationship is different and handles this touchy issue in a different way. Just make sure that both of you are on the same wave length.
Celebrate and rejoice in your differences. Hey, I’m in love with myself, but I’m sure my twin would get to be boring after awhile. Just as long as some of what you enjoy as individuals you can also enjoy together. (And I don’t mean just jerking off together over some porn.)
If kids are in the equation (yea, bi-daddies or even guys with kids from prior gay relationships  I’m talking to you), make sure their needs and questions are addressed, too.
Don’t move in together right away. Spend some long weekends or a week at his place or vice versa. Can you deal with his leaving the toilet seat down in the middle of the night, or he with your halitosis at 6 a.m. on a Monday morning? And who says you’ve got to co-habitate for the relationship to work anyway? How about that little word, trust?
Don’t co-mingle assets until it makes sense. (You know, it’s $$$ strife, not infidelity, that wrecks most straight marriages.) Certainly, decide how joint bills will be paid, but keep separate checking accounts, credit cards, etc.; after all, the credit reporting bureaus don’t award joint credit ratings to lovers. If you eventually buy a home or a condo, make absolutely certain that the deed and mortgage are in both your names (so you aren’t left holding the bag if the other picks up and leaves; you know how many guys I know were forced to file for personal bankruptcy because of this stupidity?), and that you each have the right to survivorship, which means you or he gets the property should something happen.
When the moment is right, get your asses over to a gay-friendly lawyer and establish respective powers of attorney, health care proxies, and wills. You may not want your next of kin, your Marine corporal homophobic brother, making decisions if you can’t, or inheriting your estate.

(I learned the hard way when my ex-partner took sick at our PA home and I couldn’t even get his mail forwarded down to Lauderdale without his nephew signing the change-of-address card.)

 Be open to compromise. Don’t let the little shit destroy a relationship. So he leaves the sponge in the sink after he washes the dishes. So? Put it back where you want it without making a federal case. A federal case is him bringing home a trick at 3 a.m. who may end up tying the both of you up, beating the shit out of you, and then taking the keys to YOUR Cooper.
Put yourself in the other guy’s shoes, particularly when he’s faced with a dilemma or has a tough decision to make and he turns to you for advice, not parenting. (There may be relationships where one partner is the driver but any guy who just blindly follows another guy’s orders I think is a fuckin’ jerk).
Give one another space. Guys who are too clingy smother a relationship. If you feel that insecure, either the coupling was built on sand to begin with, or you’re not ready.
Just because marriage between us is legal doesn’t mean you should jump into it too early in the game. Unless there are some very compelling reasons, give your relationship a couple of years of solid togetherness. Remember a marriage license is a legal document not a post for Facebook page.
Finally, TALK. Sure it’s uncomfortable, but when there’s an “issue,” it’s better to discuss it even if there’s some yelling (just no throwing furniture or smothering one another with a pillow, huh, guys?) and try to work things out, than to let it fester and you both end up on “Forensic Files,” only, one of you will be watching it – from prison. If, in the end, it means it’s time to call it quits, so be it.

Hey, a relationship is supposed to be a safe harbor, not a disaster flick.

If The Supreme Court’s Ginsburg Retires We’re Fucked

If The Supreme Court’s Ginsburg Retires We’re Fucked

Today’s blog is for guys under 40 who still have a lot of livin’ to do. The rest of us have had our chance to make it so if you wanna skip this and check out xtube or pornmd, l’ll give you a list of my favorite clips.

As l’ve pontificated before, the time to win civil rights for gays was under Obama. Instead we went after a rather narrow freedom, gay marriage, which would have come under equal rights as citizens anyway. A lot of tight assed people were pissed a handful of old fart justices made it happen, the same redneck good old boys – and girls – who made the Trump win possible.

Even before the most solidly conservative government our country has seen in years took the reign of power, we were witnessing the use of religious beliefs by businesses as a legal reason to discriminate. In fact even the Supreme Court ruled in favor of Hobby Lobby when it refused to offer ObamaCare to is employees because of its contraceptive clause which its owners said violated their own religious beliefs.

Recently Trump attended a prayer breakfast where he pronounced religious freedom as priority one in his Administration. Add to that his vow to repeal the Johnson Act (named after the then Senator Lyndon Baines Johnson) which would allow faith based organizations to donate to political causes and you got colossal collusion in the making.

Follow this scenario: Trump proposes a law that, in a sense, makes it legal for any business, organization or for that matter individual to discriminate against anyone – though we would be the unspoken prime target – because it would be a violation of their religious beliefs (“Men sleeping with men is an abomination sayeth the Lord”), and we’re cooked. Wedding cakes are just a footnote to being passed over for a job or not being to able to buy or even rent a condo because the guy in control even thinks you’re gay. (Watch out you str8 metrosexuals.)  With the Republicans in control of Congress, the proposal will be passed quicker than you can stick a hard dick in a loose hole.

Why do l say we’re cooked probably for most of our lifetimes, and that includes you cute twenty somethings? Because predictably the law will be challenged by the ACLU, every gay activists group imaginable and maybe even strong women’s groups like NOW most likely on Separation of Church and State grounds and its fate will eventually come before the Supreme Court to decide.

Now the current candidate Trump has nominated to fill the vacancy left by the death of Anthony Scalia is no big deal. Federal judge Neil Gorsuch himself says Scalia was his mentor, so putting him in Scalia’s robes is sort of like switching Coke for Pepsi. No, the real problem for us is when one or more of the liberal or open minded justices leaves simply because of old age like Ruth Bader Ginsburg who’s 83 or Anthony Kennedy who turns 80 and Trump replaces them with conservatives, tipping the balance of the Court to the right probably for the next twenty years or more. (When you become a Supreme Court justice, it’s for life baby.) The law about discriminating against individuals because of your own religious beliefs comes before this new Court and its repeal is shot down. That’s it folks. There’s no place else to go.

End of story.

The Founding Fathers didn’t call it the Supreme Court for nothing.

Heil Trump!

Heil Trump!

It may be with a lower case H, at least for now, but the similarities and parallels between our current President and the most evil man in the history of the world are uncanny and unnervingly frightening:

Hitler was a megalomaniac who felt all-powerful and God-like; Trump, the egomaniac’s egomaniac, is running the country like it was another one of his corporations, bypassing Congress, which is supposed to be the voice of the people, whenever he can.

Hitler had his scapegoats, Jews, homosexuals, priests; Trump has his: Muslims (look at the travel ban which was declared illegal but which Trump plans to reintroduce in a streamlined form to make it court-proof), Latinos (his stepped-up crackdown on deportations and raids of illegals, many of whom work at jobs like restaurant help and farm pickers Americans don’t want),  and, yes, despite his rhetoric to the contrary, us. Look at his Left Lieutenant, Vice President Pence, a homophobic’s homophobic.

Jews in 1932 Germany didn’t believe Hitler would act on his anti-Semitic smears; today’s Log Cabin Republicans who are gay consider Trump our friend. Huh?

Hitler condoned, encouraged and eventually ordered violence against the groups he scapegoated, most notably Jews; look at the anti-Muslim violence, i.e., that burned out a mosque here in Florida; the recent outbreak of anti-Semitic threats against Jewish community centers and desecrecation of Jewish cemetaries;  and an increasing number of gay bashings like the one caught on security cameras recently here in South Florida’s gay ghetto, Wilton Manors, which is visited by millions of gay tourists every year. No, of course, Trump may deny he incited such acts but his campaign anti-rhetoric emboldened his supporters, many racist and homophobic to begin with, to feel it was now open season on us “outliers.”

Most Germans looked the other way because Hitler promised and made good on his promise of delivering them economic relief, namely jobs, even if most were tied to preparing for war. Germany at that time was in the sewer, and people needed a wheelbarrow full of marks to buy a loaf of bread; billionaire Trump vowed to bring jobs back to America, a gospel which was bought hook, line and sinker by white blue collar workers who felt not only disenfranchised by the Great Recession but shit on for decades as company after company closed their factories and shipped jobs overseas where labor was cheaper.

Now to Trump’s credit or business charisma, the economy is in an upswing, stocks are up 10% and consumer confidence is at an all time high. And Trump has already twisted the arm of several corps to keep jobs here. However, more jobs have been and will continue to be lost to robotics and consequently will never come back. Others like in IT go unfilled or are filled by foreign help because Americans lack the skill sets. That’s why Silicon Valley which relies on this upscale talent from abroad went ape shit over his travel ban. So are hospitals and medical schools that count on foreign physicians from places like Syria to fill their medical residencies and staff their services.

Hitler was the grand censor, burning books he considered Communist or subversive in public squares and taking control over all the media, exploiting radio, newsreels and even skewed documentaries like Leni Riefenstahl’s “Triumph of the Will” to talk directly to, and brainwash the masses; Trump bypasses the media, which he considers Leftist and out to get him as the creator of “false” news, with his tweets, has silenced agencies like the EPA from talking to the media, and uses exaggerations, hyperbole and “alternative facts” to cover his ass and blame others for his own missteps. He has even ordered government websites with valuable data such as on climate change, which he considers a hoax propagated by the Left, wiped clean. Meanwhile 2016 was the warmest year yet on record.

Hitler made sure the judges in German courts were Nazi hardliners; Trump, more than any other president in recent history, has the opportunity to stack the Supreme Court against liberal decisions for decades. (More on that in Friday’s blog.)

Google Goebbels, Hitler’s chief propagandist, and Sean Spicer, Trump’s press secretary. About the only difference between them is Goebbels walked with a limp.

Hitler was originally a friend of Russia, and if he had stayed that way might have won the war; Trump at times talks about Putin as if they were long lost half-brothers.

Hitler, though the rumor was he was half Jewish, was a proponent of a pure Aryan race of blonde, blue eyed Germans; Trump’s biggest supporters were the good old red blooded white Americans, and Trump’s family is the embodiment of physical perfection.

True, Hitler was in for life, and Trump may be history in four or at most eight years. And who knows, if he is pulled into the whole Russia mess that brought down Flynn (why Flynn would discuss with the Russian ambassador stuff his future boss didn’t know about or even ordered sounds awfully strange), his days may be numbered.

But by then will there be anything left to salvage?

Anybody ready to defect and join me in establishing a Gay Americans in Exile colony in Bolivia?

Friday:

If The Supreme Court’s Ginsburg Retires, We’re Fucked

The Perfect Cock, the Perfect Butt: What’s Your Favorite?

The Perfect Cock, the Perfect Butt: What’s Your Favorite?

(Wednesday: Heil Trump!)

We all know cocks come in a variety of shapes and sizes and you can never really tell what kind of cock a particular guy’s got just by looking at him. (So much for the big nose, big feet theory).  So what’s the perfect cock – not just any cock – but the perfect cock, you ask?

Well, it all depends on who you’re talking to. If you happen to prefer or just like oral sex, you wanna a cock you can handle, a nice size, let’s say six and half to seven, maybe, a nice girth, but not too thick, something you can enjoy and savor like fine wine without throwing up your veal parmagana dinner.

But if you’re a bottom boy, power bottom, or just plain anal freak, you want your man hung, right? Well, we’ve had this discussion before about stimulating the prostate gland that’s only a few inches up and to the side of the rectum. But don’t we all – even guys who prefer oral – fantasize about that BIG dick? And for those who want it up the ass, the bigger the better, even if the enjoyment of having that beast inside us is more fantasy than physical.  As long as you don’t end up tasting his foreskin on your tongue.

O.K., so what’s my perfect cock? Cut, six and half to seven or eight, nice mushroom head and a nice thick shaft to grab onto. But hey, yours may be different, and nibbling all some droopy foreskin sure can be fun too. All while he’s getting hot and hard just for you.

Then what about the perfect butt? Bubble butt, no butt, or a butt you could use for an IMAX screen? Me?  I happen to like a manly, muscular and very furry butt and hairy butt hole to keep old Mr. Peter deliriously happy just as long as the guy is tight enough to hold onto my dick but not too tight that I need a battling ram to inch in there. After all, the pleasure for you and him is having that dick glide in and out effortlessly.

But whatever our personal preferences, our personal best, what counts the most is what that perfect cock and butt – our perfect cock and butt – are attached to. For me, he’s gotta be a guy, somebody you’d trust your car to kinda guy. When who we’re screwing around with becomes less important than what we’re screwing, sex becomes a mechanical act, and sooner or later in our respective gay careers, we find the fun leaving the sex and sex just no fun.

 

The Tourists are Here!

The Tourists are Here!

Today begins the long Presidents Day weekend which next to Thanksgiving’s Pig Week is the winter’s or we down here call Season’s biggest weekend for gay tourists from across the country and around the world. After all, when everybody else is dealing with Artic weather (l know, l just spent the holidays at the home l co-own with my ex in Northeastern Pennsylvania), we’re basking in 80 degree sun.

Now tourism is the number one industry in Florida (forget Agriculture which is fast fading), and the more tourists spend, the lower my taxes as a resident.. So it comes as no surprise we welcome those moneybags from NYC, Chicago, Fargo, N.D. (where Pence is contemplating establishing those conversion camps for us – just joking), or Berlin (another gay party town). And we gay guys who have the good fortune to live in south Florida are constantly checking the hookup sites and phone apps for tourists with benefits.

Two problems though: this is a town of philandering partners so when we hear a Mr. Hottie who likes us, really likes us, is staying with family and friends or at a gay guesthouse or cheap motel with seven other buddies or their partner, we have to remind them we’re relying on them for a place to fuck.

Secondly, tourists are a pain in the ass. They crowd our bars with their cliquey cliques (especially the Ramrod, our leather bar, since most of the guys have no place to wear their leather in their own towns anymore),  step on our steel toed boots with their steel toed boots, eat up all the space on Sebastian, our gay beach, or all the parking spots if  they’re not staying by the beach so us townies have to park two miles away to visit our beach, crowd our restaurants and our sex club and our bath houses…

Acting like they were visiting royalty.

Like the guy from NYC, anxious to meet, who texted, “I’ll be tied up with friends most of the time but I should be able to able to get away.” My response: “When I hear that, my red flags go up.  I’ve been down that road too many times before with other out-of-town guys who are set up a time, then last minute back up for whatever reason. fucking me up.” Lesson learned? If you’re free when I’m free, fine, but I ain’t keeping time open for you when I got five fuck buddies who wanna see Daddy.

Or like the guy from Denver who hit me up on Scruff earlier this month. He and his beloved were staying at some swanky hotel by the beach (his love had his American Express bonus points to use up). Instead of coming my way – l now live solo and so can host, have a secluded heated pool, etc., etc., – he wanted me to show up at seven thirty in the morning while his partner was taking his morning jog, bring the poppers, pay fifteen bucks to park in the hotel lot, fuck the shit out of him and leave by 8:15 before his lover returned

Maybe you’d like me to stop for croissants for breakfast on my way over, huh?

After all, just because I work for the Fort Lauderdale Tourism Bureau to keep our out-of-towners happy and get extra commission for “early calls” doesn’t mean I’m that money  hungry.