Archive for the ‘Facial expressions’ Category

The chirosexual moment

May 8, 2022

(Men’s bodies, masturbation, not suitable for kids (according to the — inexcusably, harmfully puritanical — sexual mores of current American culture) or the sexually modest.)

The image from a 5/6 TitanMen ad for the 2022 Masturbation Month sale of their gay porn:

(#1) A pants-pulled-down cock tease, plus an eyes-narrowed slant-eye cruise face (the expression is hard to pull off: it’s supposed to be invitingly sexy, but to my eye here it verges on silly)

Celebratory days, and the whole merry celebmasturbatory month of May.


Getting him on the mat

May 6, 2022

Today’s e-mail ad for a Daily Jocks sale features an ornamental (rather than strictly functional) wrestling singlet — a striking piece of homowear — worn in a sexual (rather than strictly athletic) stance by a model I’ll call Joe:

(#1) Joe has pulled the top half of his singlet down to fully expose his lean, nicely muscled upper body; meanwhile he’s in a stance no wrestler has ever used in an athletic competition: resting on his elbows, back arched, ass humped up in the lordosis position (see my 4/7/21 posting “Assuming the position”, about the lordosis, tail-in-the-air, or FMP (Fuck Me Please) body position, with links to other postings)

If Joe’s coach taught him that stance, then the coach had something in mind other than preparing Joe for an athletic match on the mat — men can be matched on a mat in other ways (videos with hot wrestlers grappling sexually are a subgenre of gay porn) — and that would be sexual imposition, not coaching. (But #1 is an underwear ad that is merely fantasy-framed as depicting a wrestler — a homowrestler in homowear.)


Happy catamites

February 3, 2022

(About male-male sex in street language, definitely not suitable for kids or the sexually modest.)

Unearthed this morning — amidst piles of note pages with material for, I estimate, about 500 blog postings, on the same page from my little bedroom notepad as “I ween”, which (thanks to my 4/24/21 posting “I ween”) I’ve been able to date to mid-April 2021 — this bit of alliterative doggerel:

(#1) The pedication poem

(Perhaps unconsciously inspired by the American “dirty” folksong” “Violate Me in Violet Time (In the vilest way you know)” — No. 235 in Vance Randolph’s Roll Me in Your Arms: “Unprintable” Ozark Folksongs and Folklore (Univ. of Arkansas Press, 1992).)


Commercial Christmas 2021: DJ’s third quarter

January 6, 2022

(Well, men’s homo-underwear ads, featuring what are intended to be alluring male bodies, and skirting the line of outrageous lewdness. Clearly not to everyone’s taste.)

Following up on yesterday’s Twelfth Night posting (“Three days of commercial Christmas”), about the Daily Jocks treatment of the second quarter of the 12 days of commercial Christmas — Days 4 (12/16, calling birds), 5 (12/17, golden rings), and 6 (12/18, geese) — for Epiphany itself today, the DJ treatment of the third quarter: Days 7 (12/19, swans), with fetishwear; 8 (12/20, maids), with traditional jockstraps; and 9 (12/21, ladies), with — hiss, boo — a mystery jock offer, nothing to see here.

Nothing says Christmas like harnesses and old-school jockstraps.

In any case: a quick tour of DJ’s Days 7 and 8, then a survey of Epiphany on this blog.


The illusion of macrophallicity

December 8, 2021

(A posting about (among other things) big penises, gay porn, the male body, and man-man sex, so not for kids or the sexually modest.)

It begins with an ad for last week’s 2021 Cyber Week sale from the Falcon family of gay porn sites, reported on in my 12/2/21 XBlog posting “Johnny Torque and friends”. Illustration #1 there (JT in Naked Sword’s Frat House Cream), cropped for WordPress modesty, though what remains is nevertheless important, plus text from AZBlogX:

(#1) The photo from AZBlogX has been cropped exactly at the tip of Torque’s penis; this version is all that WordPress allows

Featuring the lean pornstar Johnny Torque in a pose engineering to make it appear that he has an extraordinarily long cock, reaching, when fully erect, almost all the way to the cleft between his pecs; actually, the shot was made from below, looking up, and his upper body was somewhat bent forward over his cock — actions that together make the tip of his cock look quite close to his chest.

This is the illusion of macrophallicity (noun macrophallicity ‘possession of a big dick’ < adj. macrophallic ‘having a big dick’ < noun macrophallus ‘big dick’; and note also the useful noun macrophallicism ‘veneration of big dicks’, denoting a characteristic preoccupation of American men).

To appreciate the illusion, consider the distance ∆g-c between your genital top (the top of your vulva if you’re a woman, the top of the base of your penis if you’re a man) and that spot on the lower border in #1 just a bit below the intermammary cleft, between your breasts / pecs. Torsos differ in length, of course, but mine is roughly the same as Johnny Torque’s, and ∆g-c for me is over a foot, which would give JT a truly world-class macrophallus. In fact, his cock is a standard porn cock, reported to be just over 7ʺ long.


“I want to suck your socks off”

November 5, 2021

(The title alone should be enough to signal that this posting is totally inappropriate for kids and the sexually modest, as are three others to follow it. But a lot of this material is stunningly raunchy and also personal, so I’m issuing an especially strong warning. Two of the following postings merit a warning about heavy linguistics as well — phonology in one, syntax and semantics in the other, but even they are fugues on the vocabulary of fellatio, so men’s genitals and sex between men will be with us all the way through.)

Not a morning name exactly, but a quotation I woke up to a couple of days ago, a quotation bringing with it the recollection of an encounter from 40-some years ago that was so intensely pleasurable that I came to consciousness smiling and chuckling, with morning wood just a stroke short of a happy ending.


Seven faces

October 29, 2021

Seven portraits of men (from 1875 through 1910) by John Singer Sargent, evoking character and state of mind, or celebrating male beauty, or both. Spurred by the appearance on Pinterest of this extraordinary charcoal sketch (from 1900-1910) of the young Italian man Olimpio Fusco (with his address on it!):

(#1) Fusco appears in at least one other drawing of Sargent’s — more explicitly sensuous —  in which he’s lying, naked, on his back in bed; these two drawings have led critics, with great caution, to describe Fusco as perhaps a “romantic interest” of Sargent’s

Put that aside for a moment, while I add that Sargent can fairly be described as having been a compulsive artist — always ready to dash off  a sketch or draft of pretty much anything he saw that caught his eye: colorful flowers, children playing, women’s clothing, faces (all kinds of faces, but especially men’s), street scenes, landscapes and seascapes, whatever. He did this sometimes with an eye to developing the sketches into works that could be exhibited or sold, but often just for his own pleasure. Sometimes for his very private pleasure, as in a large body of male nudes (many quite sensuous) created over the years, a selection of which were published finally in 1999, in this volume of John Esten’s:


Fireworks! Bang!

September 22, 2021

This posting originally came in two parts, united in fact by a sheer accident of timing, that two celebratory — fireworks! bang! — things happened  during a July weekend in the US: the first is a personal celebration, of an honor from the Linguistic Society of America that marks me as officially a kind of famous faggot (I happily embrace faggot); the second is the 4th of July holiday, an occasion as American as baseball, hot dogs, and apple pie, but capable of being hijacked for raunchy purposes. But in the interests of getting something posted while I still live, I’m putting the second part off, to appear as a separate posting (which will require a warning of  irredeemable raunchiness; this part dips into sexual topics with some frequency, no surprise, but needs, I think, no more severe a warning than that).

Notes: I do love fireworks, because there are occasions when only excess will really do the trick; but like a stereotypical queer, I am at best lukewarm on sports (though I have an enthusiasm for the San Francisco Giants when they’re in the World Series — go figure); I enjoy eating the occasional hot dog (for its taste and texture as well as its phallicity), but it has to be kosher (I had my ritual Independence Day Hebrew National wurst on the 3rd); and I also enjoy eating apple pie, but my preference is for Julia Child’s Tarte aux Pommes (another faggy enthusiasm).

The other thing about holidays, the Fourth of July notably among them, is that they are occasions for elaborate advertising campaigns hawking homoware: men’s premium underwear (including oh my, jockstraps), steamily presented, and gay porn videos (not to mention sex toys for gay men), all of these items that I view both as sources of deep personal satisfaction (which I am happy to talk about in detail, in the plainest of street language) and as objects of academic analysis, on several levels.

And then I have contrived to make a more than accidental connection between celebrating my recognition as an LGBTQ+ linguist and celebrating the Fourth of July, by selecting a holiday porn ad that turns on the ambiguity of N and V bang, as referring to noise-making or as referring to sexual intercourse: consider this exemplary text, the Falcon Big Bang 2021 sale ad (for gay porn) that came in my e-mail on July 2nd:


Cockateal crotches

September 18, 2021

(Male bodyparts, sex between men, visually right up against the line, so entirely unsuitable for kids and the sexually modest.)

From yesterday’s “Materials for a blog”, reporting on my asking, puckishly, in Facebook:

What happens in the romantic popular song “Teal for Two”? If it’s set in a tealroom, whazzat?

Answers to these and other questions are forthcoming, but first the spur for my silly queries: a Daily Jocks ad for PUMP! men’s underwear, a display of PUMP!’s Activate homowear collection, in teal (with deep purple and white), with four teal studs in four different moose-knuckly garments, displaying four different cruise faces: We’re looking at you, buddy, cause we know what you need!

Ad copy:

Your favourite brand is back with a new collection for 2021. The PUMP! Activate collection comprises … a Trunk, Brief, Jock & Sidecut Brief, all made with premium materials to achieve unmatched levels of comfort and style.

(#1) Cockateal crotches: Cockateal, cockatool! / A-wand’ring I will go

Men’s underwear, a bird, a color, a sportive allusion to cocks of the phallic, rather than avian, sort. As in my 8/15/21 posting “Jock robin”, about Cock Robin and a jockstrap in robin’s egg blue.


A stone solid pro

August 31, 2021

(Largely about male prostitution, so distasteful to many, but not, I think, actually over any lines.)

A stone solid pro, a street hustling boy, plying his trade for a better grade of customers, comfortably indoors, in his sexy Water Briefs, at a pool bar:

(#1) [from the Daily Jocks e-mailing of 8/30; ad copy:] Skip through the beach club line ups and go straight to the pool bar in the new PUMP! Water Briefs. The wide waistband on this low-cut cut brief gives you comfort at the waistline. The customised multi layered leg elastic offers the ultimate support and accentuates the butt.

You don’t see an impudent cruise face like — not his real name — Joe Dallesandro’s every day. For the use of his body and his company, you pay $400 (cash) an hour (extra for a few special services), plus the cost of a hotel room at the beach club’s hotel and the expense of a background check on you (he’ll give you references from his regular clients, and, as part of the background check, he has ways of getting references from your previous escorts — JD’s an independent contractor, and a sharp businessman; don’t let that boyish face fool you).

Most high-end hustlers make contact with new johns electronically, but, having come up from working the street as a sassy teen — risky  but thrilling — JD still prefers the physicality of face-to-face negotiation. That also allows him to show his skills at figuring out your desires and fashioning himself into the man who will satisfy them. The cruise of death is just an opening gambit, a kind of best guess as to what you need; experience tells him that most men, especially successful and powerful men, want to be dominated and used.