Jul 10, 2014

The fountain of Geneva (4) --- the Muttoni's last meal

John and Alex, our friends from the Green Eyes, are being told the back story of the Fountain of Geneva, the most phallic object on the planet (in a liquid sense). Hadrian, the visiting Roman emperor (117-138 AD), has to help the Swiss locals deal with a ravaging Nordic tribe, the Muttoni. And he does so in a circuitous way. He starts a school for erotic talent, the School of Antinous, named after his late lover. Richard Zugabe, librarian of the city archives of Geneva, tells the story. 

Part IV --- the Muttoni's last meal

“Yes, right. So, Hadrian would inspect his Antinousians lined up and fitted in Praetorian garb---the spectacular helmet with a feathered, Cherokee-like crescent fitted to the top, the breast-plate of chased bronze molded to the perfect fit of toned pecs and rippled abs, the humble belt with a loop for the scabbard and a notch to rest the shield. With the belt coming off everything else would drop, creating a wealth of quick opportunities behind (or in front of) the bushes.

Hadrian and Antinous, British Museum

“Trained personnel would see to the maintenance of the bespoke outfits. Hadrian, by the way, had by now been in residence for several months. His entourage had grown considerably with the addition of specialists from all walks of court life, spokespeople, equerries, not to mention personalized assistants who would handle Antinousian emails.”

“Huh?”

“Just to see whether you are still with me. So Hadrian would now select one or more of his pupils, meaning they were to join him on a dais fashioned for group activity---tiger skins, couches, cushions, ancillary toys---but the account I’m referring to is about a one-on-one from the early days of the program.

___________________

There he stands, naked, his genitals sparkling in the morning sun
___________________

The elected youth, Anaximandrius, takes Hadrian’s hand---it is his task now to seduce the Emperor---and lead him to the dais. He invites Hadrian to recline on a couch, then unties his sword and hands it to his personal assistant. Next comes off the helmet.

Jul 8, 2014

Jul 7, 2014

The fountain of Geneva (3) --- erotic talent

John and Alex, our friends from the Green Eyes, are being told the back story of the Fountain of Geneva, the most phallic object on the planet, in a liquid sense. Hadrian, the visiting Roman emperor (117-138 AD), has to help the Swiss locals deal with a ravaging Nordic tribe, the Muttoni. And he does so in a circuitous way. He starts a school for erotic talent. Richard Zugabe, librarian of the city archives of Geneva, tells the story. Please note the adult content warning.

Part III --- Erotic talent

“When I said that Hadrian kept his plan secret, I meant he kept his intentions secret; the facts were plainly recorded. He put an empire-wide call out for, let me concentrate, let’s get this verbatim, for the primum proelium ego ingenium venereae.”
“Huh?”


Publius Aelius Hadrianus Augustus (Hadrian), Palazzo dei Conservatori, Capitoline Museums.

“I-have-erotic-talent, roughly. You’ll see soon. The call was a big success, the emperor calls upon the youth of the nation, what do you expect, most Roman careers involved the casting couch. So he held his own talent show---even women were admitted in the audience---first to filter for physical features, then to identify sexual prowess, then to select the sensual few. Hadrian had a sensual soul, and he yearned for reciprocity.
___________________

These boys were not for one night, mind you; to complete the program they had to get laid for several months.
___________________


These boys were not for one night, mind you; to complete the program they had to get laid for several months. His final selection comprised exactly fifty specimen of the finest proto-erotici ever gathered in one place.”

“Wow,” I say.


Water pistols are awsome (Chang)

Jul 5, 2014

German for beginners (Sacha)

Most readers of this blog, we can safely assume, know this picture:


But how about this one:



(Saying: "The removal of this notice is strictly forbidden---The German Railways"


I'm gay, I guess






Jul 1, 2014

Sirrr --- we told you so (Iraq war)

(Letter to The Economist)

Sirrr:

We sit on the lavatory where we tend to read your "newspaper" ever since you supported George W. Bush's invasion of Iraq, and---we can't trust our eyes, it's not possible, yes, let's have a third look---and you are writing elliptically in your edition of June 14, on page 11 in the European edition:

"No doubt, his [Obama's] predecessor's decision to go to war---which we mistakenly backed at the time---was a disaster."

Right, one would say, wouldn't one.

As far as I recall, you continued to justify your backing of the war for years and years---the last attempt to do so appeared ca. two years ago on your opinion pages---so perhaps you might find the space to elaborate what finally made you change your mind. The Iraq war was destined to be, as for example Barack Obama, or President Jaques Chirac, or many others---including yours truly---did tell you then, in advance, just putting one and one together, the war was destined to be a mayor mistake with foreseeable consequences, destabilization of the Middle East, strengthening of Iran, senseless squandering of taxpayer's money, senseless squandering of human life, we told you, we told you, we told you so.  

You are co-responsible for this...

 

The world soccer (football) cup and us (and our dentist)

Its always thus: while Bernard-Henri Lévy (don't ask, or google "pictures of French Intellectuals"---they are all his), so while Lévy and Dominique Strauss-Kahn (the IMF chief who fell onto his penis over a few sexual minutes in his Hotel Suite) are "good friends" who "know each other well," us---we only know the concierge of Michel Foucault, the other French intellectual, the guy who died an early AIDS-death in 1985. And even that isn't true (we don't know the concierge, that is).


Along those lines. We never met Sepp Blatter, the much-discussed head of the FIFA, the organization that runs the world soccer cup. BUT---we know his brother, almost. Have a look at this picture.


We took the picture this morning on the way to the dentist. It's a car dealership, located at the entrance of Visp, the nearest town from us down in the Valais valley. The home town of the Blatter clan.The Blatter AG, you see it? On the sign, to the left. That Blatter's brother, and we almost know the guy because they also have a car-wash where we have our car cleaned irregularly. Cool, isn't it.


And the dentist. Lives in nearby Naters (picture (this morning)). Don't get jealous. We've added a bit magenta to the picture. The real colors are less picturesque.

«Amis pédophiles, à demain!» (reposted)

Nikolas Sarkozy, former French president, was arrested yesterday for money laundering.

Remember our post of Nov. 23, 2010 about the then-French-president Nikolas Sarkozy and billionairess Liliane Bettencourt? He're the post again:

The French President, Nicolas Sarkozy, to journalists, in response to questions about his role in the Karachi affair (one of countless French scandals involving money being redirected into the coffers of the governing party):

Nicolas Sarkosy
«Et vous, j’ai rien du tout contre vous. Il semblerait que vous soyez pédophile… Qui me l’a dit? J’en ai l’intime conviction (…) Pouvez-vous vous justifier?».

(Translation: And you? I've nothing against you. It looks like you are pedophile. How do I know? I'm thoroughly convinced. Could you please justify yourself.)

Then he waved goodbye to the journalists with the words:"«Amis pédophiles, à demain!»

Celebrity deficiency?

Not famous enough? Go public with your ménage (à trois):


Jun 30, 2014

Jun 28, 2014

Fucking Foucault (reblogged)

Here's another beautiful piece from the mysterious Mr. E., the force behind the 50 Shady Gays. Enjoy:

I’m sure that every queer cultural theorist has thought about it at some point haven’t they?

I was first fucked by Michel Foucault during the nineties when I was a raver/rock star and all round fuck up. It wasn’t until I was a mature student, when I was reading articles on discourse and power, that I thought to myself, I actually love this man.

Michel Foucault (1926-1984)
I have never been literally fucked by him of course, but I have in a literary way, which is often much more intimate and powerful – and I suppose in some way it’s all about the power isn’t it?

Anyway, being incredibly vain and sexually unfulfilled as a performer (exclusively top), I naturally thought that in some way my life mirrored his; indeed, as I flounced across stages, and tripped through a myriad of alien, urban sprawls (oh so bohemian and clever); I stupidly imagined myself to be his successor. Yes, I alone would weave the power of his madness into my own duvet of sexual discovery, because I was unique – it was like he was speaking to me, and me alone.

Jun 27, 2014

Gallery &-t

There is so much good stuff out there, we have to start a gallery. Plus, it'll make our life easier; we need no further excuse for posting pictures once in a while without further excuse ("Huh?"). So here are the first five pictures by Tony de Carlo, Bob Bienpensant, Joe Phillips, Jezza Smilez, and Michael Breyette:



"Adam Steve Eden," Tony de Carlo (2002)

Jun 25, 2014

The Fountain of Geneva (2) --- The Muttoni

John and Alex, our friends from the Green Eyes, are being told the back story of the Fountain of Geneva.  So far we've learned that Caesar visited the place once and was presented with a lust-slave he didn't like (historically true). Now Hadrian, the Roman emperor (117-138 AD) is visiting the place, almost 200 years later. Richard Zugabe, librarian of the city archives of Geneva, tells the story.

Part II --- The Muttoni

“The Aldermen of Geneva had good reasons to avoid their predecessors’ mistake when Hadrian came to town in 133 AD. There wasn’t only the precedent of Caesar’s snub, but also the arrival of the Muttoni (as the Romans would call them), an entire tribe of blond, blue-eyed, oh-my-God people. The Muttoni had settled in the Saas valley, a side valley off the nearby Valais, and were making a big nuisance of themselves. Not content to follow the sheep-raising, cow-milking example of their Celtic neighbors, the Muttoni spent their time on raids. They would maraud through the region and misappropriate everything not nailed down, including human beings---and in particular adolescent males.


“Slavery, though an institution throughout the empire, was not really entrenched in the region. The locals were unable to appreciate six-feet-three hunks knocking on doors, tossing unruly hair, baring wide chests, and pointing steely javelins at innocent kinfolk while dragging handsome youths into captivity.

___________________

Many locals were killed during the raids of course, courageous fathers, desperate mothers, trustful dogs, even the stray mother-in-law is mentioned. 
___________________

“Many locals were killed during the raids of course, courageous fathers, desperate mothers, trustful dogs, even the stray mother-in-law is mentioned---resistance was futile, the Muttoni would always prevail. If there was any kind of racial phenotype better not mentioned or presented to visiting big shots, it was the Nordic type of the blue-eyed, hair-tossing chest-barer, whether oh-my-God or not.



Jun 22, 2014

The hottest criminal ever

Yes, we know, this is a stupid header. Anyhow, Jeremy Meeks got himself arrested in 2002:



And again in 2008:

2008
And now what? We have Facebook now, so he decides to go viral, and have himself arrested one more time:


2014

His mug shot triggers 50,000 likes on Facebook in one day. And comments like these:

-'He didn't know any different. I could turn him into a "model" citizen. Where can I pay his bail?'
-'He needs to be a model. I would buy whatever he's selling!'
-'What is he guilty of?! First Degree Sexiness?!'
-'He'll probably be on next years prison calendar...Mr....EVERY MONTH!'
-'Marry me, Mr Meeks! Hopefully he changes his ways - but I'll take him any day...'
-'I would go to prison for aiding and aBEDding him'
-'I wanna be in his cell!'


Jeremy Meeks!


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