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July 29, 2005

Shady Pines

Hey guys,

I just got this angry letter from the geezers at The Fire Island Pines Property Owners Association in response to my blog entry The End of Fire Island?" (July 25th). In the name of free speech, I thought I should post it, not as a comment, but as a whole new entry. Oh who am I kidding... it's just that it's fucking hysterical, I couldn't help myself.

(By the way, the letter was originally addressed to my given name - I changed it to "Michael" but everything else is exactly as it was sent)

Michael,

I'm sorry that you feel that way. However, your judgements are absolutely wrong and your story is a bit embellished. In all phases of life there are rules. We all know that FIPPOA prohibits commercial filming on it's property. In addition, it is illegal to photograph or film any public transportation hub or port of entry (see US Department of Homeland Security guidelines). It saddens me that you have decided to have a temper tantrem just because you can't have your way. Grow up, Michael and get a grip. The Pines was popular and fabulous when you were still selling yourself on the streets of Moscow.

And Richard Winger, shame on you and Michael for this immature display of hatred for your own community. I remember when you were an active and productive member of this community. Are you not insulted by the "wrinkled old queens" reference? Don't forget that you are in your fifties, and therefore a part of the very generation that your boyfriend is attacking. Have you no self-respect or soul???

It's really a shame, but if you really feel that way, then move. Just go away quietly and with dignity.

And for all the rest of you out there, come to the Pines and judge for yourself. It is a unique paradise with a warm sense of community and tolerance. We welcome all.

"Pines Resident"

Posted by Michael at 02:27 PM | Comments (20) | TrackBack

July 28, 2005

The Price of Crude

Not sure if you’ve been following this story (if you haven’t put down that National Enquirer and pick up a real newspaper). Apparently the world took notice of a public hanging of two gay teenagers in Iran. In the last couple of days my mailbox has been flooded with e-mails from all over the globe, petitions calling this a “barbaric act,” an outcry the world has not seen since Dreyfus. It seems Emile Zola is live and well and writing for the Associated Press, a modern day J’Accuse.

Everyone is so indignant, shocked. And all I can think is, why?
Public executions of gay men, promiscuous women and cheating wives in the Muslim world are as common as falafel stands. Why are we so surprised that a country that sponsors 90 percent of the globe’s terrorism, who defiantly develops nuclear capability, who basically signs Osama’s paycheck, would hang two teenagers for being gay?

These people have no respect for human life. The only respect they have is for Allah and the Koran. But that’s not what angers me, I’ve come to expect that from a region of the world where oil flows like Pepsi and somehow its population is so poor, so ignorant, they make some African countries look modern. What angers me is our government (and other Western leaders) who are happy to ignore the suffering of minorities as long as they get their black gold for cheap. It seems for some reason our government is perfectly happy to help out a country like Egypt (who by all accounts is run by a rotten dictatorship) and Saudi Arabia (such a good friend, we should send them a thank you note for sending us 15 of the 19 hijackers). In the past our leaders had no problem supporting the Taliban (who make the Ayatollah look like a Peace Corps volunteer) as long as they fought the Soviets.

This is a conflict between civilizations, not of nations. So please my fellow Kum-ba-ya-singing liberals, stop telling me WE’RE the ones at fault, stop telling me we’re producing terrorists (which seems to be the catchphrase of the decade), stop making excuses for these animals. WE do not cut people’s throats, WE do not blow up busses filled with civilians and we certainly don’t hang kids for sucking cock.

And for you Mr. Bush. Good luck trying to deliver your pre-packaged Stouffer’s version of democracy to that Stone-Age region. Yeah. That’ll be the day.

Love

Michael

Posted by Michael at 04:03 PM | Comments (15) | TrackBack

Michael with the Glamour Girls

I went through the Lucas Entertainment archives and found some great shots of Michael with ladies that know more than a little bit about New York style.

Will
the Web Guy

Rupert Everett, Amanda Lepore & Michael

Michael & Ivana Trump

Kim Cattrall & Michael

Patricia Field & Michael

Heidi Fleiss & Michael

Michael, RuPaul & Wilfried Knight

Posted by Will at 11:25 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

July 27, 2005

Lady Bunny's List

I was checking out the blog of my dear friend, and a wonderful Christian woman, grandmother of five, Lady Bunny. As she's getting ready to celebrate her 70th birthday, she's posted some advice to her fellow geriatric friends. Hilarious!

Despite what you may have seen on the streets, the following
combinations DO NOT go together and should be avoided:

01. A Nose Ring and Bifocals.
02. Spiked hair and Bald Spots.
03. A Pierced tongue and Dentures.
04. Mini-skirts and Support Hose.
05. Ankle Bracelets and Corn Pads.
06. Speedo's and Cellulite.
07. A Belly Ring and a Gall Bladder surgery scar.
08. Un-buttoned Disco Shirts and a Heart Monitor.
09. Midriff Shirts and a Midriff Bulge./
10. Bikinis and Liver Spots.
11. Short Shorts and Varicose Veins.
12. Inline Skates and a Walker.

And last, but not least..... My personal favorite:

13. Thongs and Depends.

Posted by Michael at 02:33 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

Homeward bound

Hey Guys,

First, let me start by thanking you for your incredible support with this whole Fire Island situation. I was deeply moved by your kind e-mails and comments.

Since this thing exploded, I’ve been thinking about selling our house there and severing my ties with that place once and for all. The arrogance of its population aside, between taxes, pool cleaning, renovations, a fish pond, bills, and never-ending amount of maintenance, having a house on the island can cost you up to $50,000 a year. All that for what? Three weeks a summer that involve having to sit on a cab, a train, a van, and a ferry (oh and let’s not forget that lovely trek on the boardwalk). Six hours of traveling back and forth, enough to make even Mahatma Gandhi go postal. For that money I could easily rent a villa in Tuscany and be treated like a king.

I promise tomorrow I’ll go back to my usual banter on some annoying gay habit or that idiot in the White House, but today I thought I’d share with you an entry about nothing (think Seinfeld only not as funny):

We finally wrapped up on Saturday, and a house filled with 30 cast members and crew suddenly emptied out. I went from having no privacy, to not knowing what to do with myself. I would have gladly taken the first ferry off Hades but I had already invited a friend of mine, Bruce Vilanch (above), for the weekend months earlier (not realizing it would be on the heels of my production).

I love Bruce, he’s a dear man, but I was emotionally and physically drained after a week of little sleep and lots of pressure. I walked to the pier to welcome him. As I waited for the 8:00 p.m. ferry I noticed a chick falling off its nest. It was a tiny little thing, featherless, vulnerable, so sad. I watched it trying to crawl and of a sudden I burst into tears. It wasn’t the bird I don’t think, it was a trigger that set off a wave of emotions like nothing I’d ever experienced. A grown man sitting on the dock, crying over a doomed hatchling. How pathetic.

Bruce arrived and was able to cheer me up. That man is all one big funny bone. My boyfriend Richard arrived that night as well, and cooked a wonderful meal. It was nice. The next morning I was all ready and packed up to go, I arrived at the pier a half an hour early anxious like a little boy at a carnival. At one point I saw this female duck fly away, leaving her chicks behind. No tears this time, not even a frown. I was headed home.

Love

Michael

Posted by Michael at 01:45 PM | Comments (9) | TrackBack

July 25, 2005

The End of Fire Island?

I’m done. I’m never doing this again. Eight days of shooting on Fire Island and even the most patient and understanding person is guaranteed to lose his or her mind. Every summer it’s the same routine. I pack up thousands of dollars worth of equipment, a dozen models, and a shit load of condoms, get on that damn ferry, excited about another great Fire Island movie, but as soon as I get off the boat, without fail, all I get is grief.

Let me preface this by saying that my movies are the best promotion this tired-ass sand box could ever hope for. I sell the illusion that Fire Island is a happening, hot, place. Men who watch my movies get the impression that this place is all about big dicks, rock-hard asses and the beauty of gay sex (when in reality we all know the only people you see on these squeaky boardwalks are aging queens who migrate back and forth from Fort Lauderdale to New York).

For some odd reason, those who benefit most from my films can’t see a good thing if it hit them in right in their wrinkled faces.

As we were shooting one of our final dialogue scenes on the pier, I got into a confrontation with a representative of the Fire Island Pines Property Owners’ Association (see video). They told me that if any of the footage shot on the bay ends up in my next flick, they’ll sue me. Go ahead. My lawyers are getting bored with all the other claims, I’d be happy to give them something juicy (so to speak). Here’s what I want to ask these tired Queens who are so worried about their property making an appearance in one of my films. Have you ever watched porn? Because if you’ve ever sat in a dimmed room jerking off to even one movie, then your house or at least one wall of it is made of glass. So get off your high horse, we’re not selling drugs, just a hot fantasy.

Seriously they should be kissing my pedicured feet. Fire Island is not a place for those looking for a quiet weekend. This is a place where boys and men come to party. It’s why their properties rent for $60-$100,000 a summer.

Why should I go through all this trouble and spend four times more money shooting a movie in this bug-infested place, when I can just as easily shoot it in New York? Why promote such an ungrateful population?

This is it. I’m done.

Posted by Michael at 01:47 PM | Comments (24) | TrackBack

July 24, 2005

Erik Grant

If you’ve seen my movie Manhattan Heat you know who Erik Grant is. It was a year ago when he came into my office, took off his clothes and showed me a hard and beautifully shaped nine-inch dick. There’s something about Erik that’s pulls you in. His eyes are captivating and he’s got a cute tight little bod. And the audiences responded to him. The title which made him a star, is still one of our best selling movies, largely because of a scene he did my superstud exclusive Wilfried Knight. Erik is a hairdresser who lives in New Jersey. He’s sweet, and professional and a bit on the quiet side, but he can be a lot of fun. It’s always a party when he’s around. But when he’s whips out his beautiful cock, he’s all business.

He did one of the hottest scenes in Fire Island Cruising 7 with Kent Larson. Set in a Jacuzzi at night, he got on top of Larson and wow, it was magic.

I think Erik has a bright career ahead of him. He can clearly carry a film (Manhattan Heat is proof of that) and he’s one of the good guys. This last scene is sure to catapult him into a whole other stratosphere of stardom.

Love

Michael

Posted by Michael at 01:12 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

Introducing Chad Leigh

I received these pictures from Michael on Fire Island. I think they can speak for themselves. Enjoy!

Will

the Web Guy

Posted by Will at 12:51 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Parker Williams

I hope this doesn’t sound too arrogant (oh, who am I kidding?) but I’m admired by many people, fans all over the world who buy my movies and send me letters. But seldom do I get any respect from my colleagues. Reviewers get bitchy, models get catty (can’t blame them really).

Jokes aside, it’s refreshing to meet someone who is a professional, who knows what he’s doing, and who actually respects your achievements. Parker Williams (right) is such a person. A porn star who likes me? Who knew?

I met him a couple of months ago during our Auditions 4 shoot, we fucked for a good hour and it turned out to be a delicious sex scene. He’s hot, no question, more than that, he’s a man’s man. He’s everyone’s fantasy, a construction worker type with piercing blue eyes and a rock hard ass. As a good friend of mine likes to say, I just want to move into that ass, suitcases and all.

For our Fire Island Cruising 7 movie, I paired Parker with my exclusive and most talked about model, Bruce Beckham and the two made fireworks look like mere candles. It was hot. They flipped half way through and just fucked each other silly. Love a man who can fuck and then get on his back and enjoy a hard dick up his ass. Parker is a man, no bottoming in the world could change that.

Love

Michael

(you can visit Parker's website here)

Posted by Michael at 12:32 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

July 22, 2005

Andy Hunter Bottoms for the First Time!

It’s not easy making porn these days. New stricter regulations are making it tougher to find new models and make innovative movies. But every once in a while you find a way to showcase your actors in a hole (sic) different light.

Yesterday we shot a threeway between Andy Hunter (right), our everly handsome exclusive Erik Grant and the always sexy Owen Hawk (below left). All three are experienced and professional, they’ve done this before. But this time we added a little twist: Andy Hunter bottoming for the first time (well, on camera anyway). I think it’s always fun to watch someone who’s done about 40 films, always as a top, spread his legs and take a big dick right up the ass (or in Andy’s case two of them). The something so devilish in it, corrupting. People like to see a big top let loose (so to speak).

Andy’s has been in the business for quite some time now and has a large fan-base, he wanted to explore the idea of bottoming on camera, but was a bit worried about how it would affect his image. After giving it some thought, he figured it could be fun. So we talked about it and decided, if he's going to bottom, why not do it in style? Enter Grant and Hawk and you’ve got yourself a recipe for one of the most famous threesomes since the Stooges.

Let me tell you, it was hot in there, and not only because we had to turn off all the fans while filming, but because those three are pros. All I had to do is stand back and watch as an elegant dance of dicks and balls unfolded before my eyes.

Erik was the first one to do the honors, he shoved his nine inches right in and you could just see Andy’s face, he looked like he had just entered the gates of heaven (he told me later he did, but for a different reason, it wasn’t pleasure but pain he was experiencing, since his ass is tighter than Joan River’s face). Then Owen went for it, the two going back and forth, a sight for sore eyes.

Erik, one of the hottest men I’ve had the pleasure to sign on as our exclusives was put to work yet again this morning. This time with newcomer John Lamb. It’s funny. When casting a film we put a lot of thought into the configuration of the scenes. Who would sleep with whom? Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. This time it was fireworks. The scene involved Erik’s character sneaking into John’s room as he’s sleeping and waking him up with a kiss. A stranger coming into his bed to fuck his brains out. Erik told me later he had loved it. He shot his load literally across the room. This is sure to be one of our hottest moments in this film, and a staple of the Fire Island Cruising series. More to come....

Love

Michael

Posted by Michael at 02:07 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

July 21, 2005

The Kent Man

Every once in a while I get a comment and it strikes a nerve. This one was posted on my blog yesterday:

Kent is easily the most under-rated porn star out there, I am so glad you are featuring him in your films. He is so unbelievably handsome and hot. No matter what sex act is going on, he does seems very manly, and he always seems to be truly enjoying himself. Especially in those Dangerous Liaisons bonus scenes! First having sex, and then enjoying a watersports ride with you.

Well Richard, I couldn’t agree with you more. It amazes me how stupid this business can be sometimes. Reviewers and blog masters alike can go on an on about some new twink who can barely get it up, but won’t write about the hottest men in the industry today and perhaps ever. Kent has only been in the business for a little over a year and during the last GayVn Awards he was nominated for “best newcomer,” but for some odd reason the judges gave the prize to Eddie Stone. Who the fuck is that? Best performer was given to Tag Adams, and even though I do like Tag, between the two, I’d choose Kent any day of the week, and twice in Sunday.

If you had to choose someone who would you pick? There’s no question, every straight man wants to be a Kent, every gay man wants to fuck him. Kent is the ultimate man. If you’ve ever seen one of his films (and if you haven’t I suggest you go buy one today) you know what I mean. He’s just perfection on legs. Every feature screams masculinity, from his rock-hard round ass to his beautiful legs (a result of nine years of professional dancing). And his ass, well, Michelangelo himself couldn’t have dreamed it better.

He is also a sweet guy. You know me, I can get pretty nasty, and when I’m in a foul mood, even the nicest guy can get whiplashes if they cross my view. But Kent can’t say a bad word, which makes him a pleasure to work with. He’s a profession par excelance. Always on time, always focused, always hard as steel.

So here’s to you kiddo. I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say we hope to see your ass again soon.

(you can email Kent at kentlarsonxxx@aol.com)

Posted by Michael at 01:41 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack

Two more scenes, this movie is scorching hot

We were shooting one of the dialogue scenes on the pier when an older gentleman by the name of Anthony asked if we’d like to use in his beautiful house on the bay. We checked it out and it was in fact a stunning little palace with a gorgeous pool, a bridge over a manicured pond and a billowing white cabana that looked like it was pulled straight out of the set of Casablanca. We decide to shoot one of our hottest sex scenes that day: my beautiful exclusive Bruce Beckham (left) and the ruggedly handsome construction worker-type Parker Williams (right) fucking each other’s brains out. Hard-ons everywhere. According to the script the two characters meet on the boardwalk, exchange a few pleasantries before heading over to Parker’s pool for an afternoon skinny-dip and some ass-pounding sex. Bruce went first, fucking Parker’s incredible derriere (no seriously, you have to see this guy on his knees, it’s art). Then they flipped, Bruce on his back, Parker on top, moans and squeals every which way, music to my ears. Our host almost had a heart attack.

Two blond boys going at it like the world was about to end, the mother of all fucks, and everyone, the crew, the guests, and casual spectators all pitched tents.

Then we went on to shoot another hot scene between newcomer Derrick Hanson (youth incarnate, left) and the talented Mr. Hunt who plowed his 11-inch dick into the 25 year-old’s scrumptious smooth butt. Let me tell you, hard to not get hard.

Derrick told me he was worried about getting pounded by a dick the size of a baby’s arm (yes, it’s that freaky) but he requested it, and so, he had to follow through. Chad took him in his arms and after a few whimpers, rammed it in. You should have seen the kid’s face, I think he was talking to God. I can’t wait to get back and have my editor put these scenes together. It just doesn’t get any hotter than this.

We’re off to shoot another scene between newcomer John Lamb and the stunningly handsome Erik Grant. More on that later.

Love

Michael

Posted by Michael at 11:39 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

July 19, 2005

Kent and Chad

Is it just me? Or is there something delicious about watching a big burly man get fucked up the ass by a skinny guy with a horse dick? Today we shot the first and what is sure to be one of the hottest scenes of the movie, our very own Chad Hunt fucking Kent Larson in Fire Island’s Meat Rack.

It was an outdoor shoot. Kent bent over a tree while Chad rammed his 11-inch dick up his cock-crushing ass. I swear I could hear the angels sing.

I’ve worked with Kent on during my last movie, Dangerous Liaisons, and decided to invite him to join us for another adventure. Kent is not only one of the handsomest men in porn, he’s 100 percent sexy and has the best ass in the biz. Not only that, he knows how to use it. At six-foot-three, Kent is able to get fucked and still look manly while doing it.

I decided to see what happens when you pair him with someone like Chad Hunt (even though he had warned me that he hadn’t gotten fucked in a while). We took some extra lube with us just to be safe and headed to a spot we thought was somewhat secluded. Within minutes 30 people surrounded our little makeshift set, some shamelessly pulling out their dicks, masturbating right in front of us.

But my guys are professionals, not just my actors but my crew as well, we just couldn’t give a fuck (so to speak). We followed the script to a T, kissing, sucking, and then of course fucking. Let me just say that when Chad pulled out his monstrous dick, you could almost hear Kent’s heart drop to his underwear. He took it like a man but his moans took on a high pitch, I swear I could hear stray dogs barking. As Kent told me later when he felt Chad all the way in, he started to panic, (I could actually see it in his eyes, sheer terror masked with pleasure). Luckily for him, we were done within the hour, none of the endless tired scenes a-la chi-chi larue (sic).

We filmed another great scene today between our exclusive Bruce Beckham and hunky Parker Williams. Bruce is getting more and more beautiful every day, his face could easily grace the cover of GQ, and his ass, well, could grace my 10-inch dick anytime. More on that scene tomorrow.

Love

Michael

Posted by Michael at 01:49 PM | Comments (11) | TrackBack

July 18, 2005

Michael Has a Little Lamb

More than the usual madness Friday morning as we were about to set off to film “Fire Island Cruising 7.” I decided to fire my incompetent production manager when he arrived at work. I got the sense he couldn’t find his own ass with a flashlight, let alone organize the essentials for a major porn production: seven models (with eight more trickling in throughout the week), a twenty-person crew, four cars, hundreds-of-thousand dollars worth of equipment, not to mention six-cases of Magnum condoms, 25 bottles of Wet Platinum lube, Anal-Eze (a must when Chad Hunt, right, is on the set), the list goes on and on. Thank God, the rest of my fabulous production team picked up the slack, and we had everything we needed, barely twenty minutes before shooting our first scene.

Making porn, is a lot like playing camp director. You decide the day’s activities, make sure everyone is fed, has a bed to sleep in… there are some differences, instead of making sure they scrub behind their ears, I have to run after them with an enema.

Although there is a funny and beautifully written script, there are always last minute changes. So, each morning we’ve been posting the day’s schedule on a special board. The models eagerly gather round the bulletin, their faces filled with anticipation, as thought they were waiting to find out if they made the cheerleading team.

I already knew who would be our little miss popular this week, which was confirmed when I starting assigning beds in the two houses. It was a scene straight out of high-school, all the boys calling shot-gun, several models volunteered to be bed buddies with sweet, young, delicious, John (photo-left).

Once you see John’s auditions scene, you’ll know why even jaded porn stars were salivating.

John is one of those rare and precious gems. He came to my office just as we were about to wrap up casting for the film. He was young, timid, soft-spoken and incredibly beautiful. As soon as he took off his clothes and I knew I wanted him in this movie. There was something about him, other than a beautiful face and his tight bouncy bubble-butt. He had that quality about him that can’t be described - stardust.

This is John’s first experience doing porn. Talk about breaking into the business, his first scene (his choice) was with none other than the biggest dick in the industry, Mr. Hunt (in his first appearance since he left the biz over a year ago, more on that later).

I’ve seen professional actors whimper at the sight of Hunt’s dick. No matter how gentle he tries to be, 11 inches long, seven inches wide, well, you do the math. On many occasions we were forced to stop mid-scene so that Chad’s bottoms could take a breather, regain color before trying again.

Not John. He took like a pro. Chad took his bat-like dick, rammed it in and it fit, like a hand to a glove. For the next hour the two proceeded to have some of the hottest sex I’ve seen in years. Even the crew was having a hard time not getting excited.

So who is this Brazilian beauty? Well, he’s 24 and up until a week ago he was seeing someone (yes he’s single now). He arrived in the United States about three years ago and now lives in New Jersey. I could tell John was nervous before the scene, (who wouldn’t? Having Chad fuck you up the ass can be a frightening experience) he was mumbling, his eyes were a little jumpy and he was having a hard time keeping still. But as soon as he got on that bed and the cameras started rolling, something inside him just clicked. He became someone else, more confident, relaxed, at ease. It was as thought he had been born to perform. Even Chad was impressed.

It seems John is destined for a great career in the biz. And you get to see him first (see pictures taken today). A porn star is born.

Love

Michael

Posted by Michael at 01:43 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack

July 14, 2005

Shades of Gray

I don’t make a habit of recommending products by a competitor. I think it’s always a bad idea. I don’t even like to suggest other websites or blogs, but every once in a while you come across one that’s simply irresistible.

So here’s the first and last time you’ll see me praising someone other than my cocky self. Shades of Gray, a blog written by the talented Ethan Gray, is absolutely addictive. There’s something about his writing (and his ass, see picture) that draws you in. He’s eloquent, funny and charming.

Apparently I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Shades of Gray was just pointed out as the best story blog on BestGayBlogs.com.

Here’s my favorite entry of his, it’s hysterical:

June 25, 2005

It’s Pride weekend. Boys are out, gyms are full, and anyone who is anyone is throwing a party. Is it just me? Or are gay men getting uglier these days? Every party, same tired faces. And the new boys, well lets just say they make Aaron Carter look manly. Just went to a party on some rooftop in Chelsea. Ninety-degree weather and there was nothing hot about it.

Bumped into Mike, a beautiful 32-year old man with the bluest eyes. Went on a date with him a year ago or so. I thought at the time, wow, this guy’s got his shit together. I like him.

The date was kind of fun. I came over to his place (very Architectural Digest), we ordered some steaks from Foodbar and watched “Angels in America.”

I do remember at one point I was about to bite into my food when a drop of the Au Poive sauce landed on his carpet. I looked to the side to see if he noticed, his face was on the TV screen. Dodged a bullet? I covered the stain with my foot until it got late and I headed home.

I never heard from him again. A good six months later I was introduced to someone who turned out to be a good friend of his. When I told him my name, the first thing he said was, “Oh, you’re the stain on the carpet guy!”

I guess now I know why he never called.

Posted by Michael at 06:58 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Fisting Federico

As “Auditions Part 4” is about to be released (September 15th) I can’t help but think of one of the hottest auditions I’ve ever conducted. “Auditions” for those who don’t know, is my best selling line. It’s exactly what it sounds like, cute boys trying to break into the business, doing their first audition in front of the cameras. No editing, no acting, just a recorded attempt at being the next porn idol.

During one of my first auditions, a young lanky Italian boy by the name of Federico Ferro walked through the door. He was tall, timid and incredibly beautiful. As the cameras started rolling, I asked him a few questions, like what he liked in bed? His lips said versatile-top but his butt said fisting bottom. Sure enough, after some chitchat, he confessed that he did enjoy a little ass play. I could tell he was a little nervous, so I did what any good director would do; I tried to ease him in and make him feel comfortable. Before long, he was on his knees, his fingers in his butt, giving a whole new meaning to words “loosening up.” One finger, then two, then three, all of a sudden his entire hand disappeared up his bowls. He was fisting himself! What a sight. I couldn’t help but be in awe of this shy kid who looked like he could grab his heart through his asshole.

(Click on the Pic for the video)

So many people get squeamish when they hear the word fisting. What’s up with that? How boring! I don’t think one needs to be a hungry bottom to enjoy watching someone getting fisted. There’s something so erotic, so hot about an entire hand up someone’s ass that you can’t help but get rock hard.

I’ve posted up the scene for your review. It’s incredible. Apparently Ferro was into Yoga, which explains his agility and ability to shove his hand so far up his ass even the elbow was in there (it was so hot, I couldn’t help myself, I shoved my own hand up his ass). The fascinating thing is this guy doesn’t fit the fisting bottom mold; he’s clean cut, somewhat introverted and timid. And that’s my point. There is no type, no mold.

So next time someone’s in your bed asking to be fisted, lend a helping hand. Who knows, you might even like it.

Love

Michael

Posted by Michael at 06:31 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

July 12, 2005

Church Goers Respond

Hey Guys,
I’ve read the comments on my “Gay Churchgoers” entry. I guess some of you missed my point. I have no doubt that there are a number of churches that accept gays. I’m sure many gay people attend their services and never feel uncomfortable or unwanted (especially now when the church is hurting for money, why wouldn’t they accept yours?)

My point was that no matter how many gays fill the pews, or how many queer priests are ordained, if I’m not mistaken, the church still lives by the Bible, and the last time I checked, it still called us a sinner (or am I looking at an old-printed edition? Hold on, let me check… Nope, still has the chapter on Sodom and Gomorrah, sound familiar? God really disliked those perverts). As long as the Bible and God think we are sinners, why are we participating? There is no room for interpretation. No two ways about it. God only loves gays (if he in fact does) because how do they put it? “He loves all sinners.” Sinners my ass. I can think of a few things that are much worse than sucking dick (like, sucking a prepubescent dick). Why would we want any part of it? And why even go back to Biblical times? Have the pope say homosexuality is natural and that God loves us as much as any other person, and I’ll write him a check tomorrow. But until then, stop taking gay cash. You seem like a cheap whore. And believe you me; I know one when I see one.

Michael

Posted by Michael at 01:47 PM | Comments (12) | TrackBack

Fire Island Bound

Hey everyone,

I figured by now you’re probably tired of a dumb porn star rambling on and on about politics. Well next week we’re going a whole other direction.

I’m starting production on my new Fire Island movie. From July 15th-22nd , while we shoot our biggest and most ambitious summer production, I’ll have no time to solve the world’s problems so it’ll be all sex, all the time. At the end of each day I’ll log in to share little tidbits and anecdotes and all the behind the scenes stuff. Something interesting always happens.

Stay tuned for delicious gossip, embarrassing moments and some of the hottest sex this side of the Atlantic. This should be fun.

Michael

Posted by Michael at 01:12 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack

Friends and Lovers

It is an age-old question: what do you do when your friend hits on your boyfriend? Millions of gay men out there, why go for your friend’s mate? Is it ever worth all the drama?

This weekend I invited a friend for some much needed R&R at my Fire Island home. It was a lovely weekend, or so I thought.

At one point, when I wasn’t around, my guest made a move on my boyfriend (my lover declined of course as any good person should). I was told about it only after my friend had left (had I known at the time, he would be eating out of a straw).

Luckily for me, the damage was minimal: lost a friend (obviously not a good one) but realized I have an honest and respectful boyfriend.

Unfortunately not everyone is as lucky. For many the story often ends on a tragic note: their lovers cheating on them, sometimes right under their very nose.

I’m tired of men who use being gay (or drunk) as an excuse for their disgusting behavior. We may have animal instincts, we may be overcome by strong urges, but at the end of the day we’re human, with the ability to think before acting. It’s not that we can’t control ourselves, we won’t.

Here’s a suggestion… If you’re ever attracted to a friend’s lover (and there’s nothing wrong with that, remember, it doesn’t matter where you get your appetite as long as you eat home), head to the rest room, put down the toilet cover and crank up your vivid imagination.

But for those already facing the predicament of a cheating lover, here’s my advice: if your friend seduces your boyfriend, he’s either idiotic or evil, either way, delete him from your palm pilot. If you’re on the other end of the cheating triangle, and your boyfriend cheats on you, send him packing. If he’s done it once, he’ll do it again. Remember, the world is full of men. Why settle for a two-faced cheating bastard? There is nothing worse than you’re boyfriend cheating on you with your own friend.

Love

Michael

Posted by Michael at 11:37 AM | Comments (9) | TrackBack

July 11, 2005

By the way...

Hey everyone,

Sorry for not blogging over the last couple of days. I just really didn't know what to say. My last entry (Airport '05) came just hours before the London bombing. Maybe it was more poignant than I thought.

In any case, I didn't think being bitchy funny or smart-ass was appropriate. I also didn't feel that talking about watersports, fisting or any other recreational activity would be in good taste either.

But today is another day. so here goes...

(see entry from today, below)

Posted by Michael at 02:10 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

Gay Churchgoers

Every once in a while it happens. You go on a date on one of those beautiful Saturday star-filled nights and everything is just right. He actually IS charming, successful and intelligent. The food is incredible, the wine is a hit, even the hair gods have been cooperative, you’ve never looked better.

But at the end of the night as you’re about to seal the deal, he says those few, heart-stopping words: “I can’t. I have to wake up early to go to church.”

He might as well go to a meeting at the local Ku-Klux Klan’s branch.

To all the self-hating churchgoing gay men out there, a question: have you checked your mailbox lately? There’s a memo in it you might want to read. Apparently religion thinks you’re a sinner. Yes, I know, it’s quite incredible, I just read it and I’m outraged too.

I know we should respect everyone’s right to believe. But as much as I try, I simply can’t understand people who attend religious services. I picture what goes through their head as the priest delivers yet another ignorant, incendiary lecture on the sin of homosexuality, while a room full of people nod and say, “Amen.” How can they stand it? How do queers stomach an organization which tells them they’re barred from entering the gates of heaven, all the while shuffling rapists from congregation to congregation? I know for a fact that many of these gay churchgoers were molested themselves. Wasn’t that enough? Didn’t you get the message, or is this some kind of fetish? I thought I’ve seen it all.

It’s particularly fascinating to me that half of those idiots attend yet another church, “The Blessed Virgin of the Roxy.” I guess sitting on that pew, pupils still dilated from last night’s high is just another way of getting closer to the Lord.

This isn’t brain surgery. The church hates gays. Why would you want to be a part of it? Do you have any respect for yourself? If you want to believe in God, go ahead, but do it in the privacy of your own goddamn home. Do you think that if God existed he’d be so demanding and arrogant he would need you to pray through a particular institution? Don’t you think he’d be satisfied with you being good, honest and kind?

You see, the reason it pisses me off so much is because I think gays who go to church reflect badly on all of us, they send a message that we’re weak, that we need the approval of the straight community, its blessing, or even worse, its absolution.

Fuck the church, and fuck you all queens who attend it. I hope you go to heaven with all those victims of pedophile priests who will serve as an eternal reminder of real corruption and real sin. As far as I’m concerned, every time I fuck someone up the ass, another soul goes to heaven.

Love,

Michael

Posted by Michael at 01:59 PM | Comments (14) | TrackBack

July 06, 2005

Airport '05

A few weeks ago, as I returned from a photo shoot in Milan, I witnessed a scene straight out of “Airplane!” One of the funniest moments in the 1980 movie is the part where a bunch of security guys lunge at an 80 year-old grandmother, pinning her to the wall, as a terrorist decked in RPGs walks through untouched.

Well, it seemed 9/11 has done little to change that. I went through Malpensa’s metal detectors in a New-York minute while an old black woman standing in front of me was pulled to the side and searched so forcefully, you would have thought she was Osama’s personal assistant.

A family (a father, mother, and two cute kids) was also pulled aside, their bag contents spilled all over the floor, their shoes checked with wiry devices. Yeah. Go get em’!

I look Middle-Eastern. I have no problem being stopped at every checkpoint. If that’s what it takes, I’d be happy to pack light, spread my legs, take my shoes, hell, you can even check my asshole (no dry fingers please, have lube available, I’m a top).

So, here’s my question to all those PC idiots who think security should be done by lottery. Are you fucking mad? All I hear is, “you can’t just profile people who look Middle-Eastern, that would be wrong.” Really? Why not? Isn’t it time we stop fighting the bad guys with good-guy tactics? They don’t play by the same rules, why should we? Are we trying to prove that we’re better than they are? Is that even a question?

What’s the point in searching an elderly woman (all you’ll find is a dry cunt, I swear) or a suburban family from Minnesota? These guards confiscate tweezers from women’s makeup kits, but let Richard Reid, a man who looks like he stepped off a camel, walk on a plane with a bomb in his shoe. Why not target those who look like the 19 hijackers? Doesn’t it make sense?

This whole PC bullshit is putting us all in danger. Look at the Israelis. El-Al is perhaps the most attractive target for terrorists, but there’s no messing with them. Why? Because El-Al security people are trained to smell fear. They know when something’s off.

I suspect political correctness is not on top of your list when there’s a bus blowing up at every corner. Maybe we too need to realize that hurting people’s feelings is secondary to hurting people’s lives?

When the NYPD gets a tip on a black suspect, they don’t go looking for a white person, or vice versa. Why do we think it’s any different on airplanes? Why look for Mohammad Atta’s little helpers in a black old woman who can barely hold her cane?

To our Homeland Security Department: stop wasting tax-payers money and more importantly grow a spine. Protect the people you were sworn to protect.

Love,

Michael

Posted by Michael at 05:17 PM | Comments (9) | TrackBack

July 05, 2005

Tom’s Choice

Producing a blockbuster movie: 128 million dollars
Advertising budget for a blockbuster movie: 20 million dollars
Watching the audience laugh during the most dramatic moment of the film: Priceless.

There are something’s money can’t buy (like say 2 hours and 25 minutes of your life), for everything else, there’s Steven Spielberg.

I don’t know why Spielberg called his latest flick The War of the Worlds. He should have simply named it Tom’s Choice.

I finally had the chance to go see this year’s most talked about summer movie hoping for a true Spielberg adventure. After all, this is the same guy who made E.T and Close Encounters Of the Third Kind. No one does Aliens better than Spielberg, or so I thought.

What I got in exchange for my $10.50 was a sloppy, poorly made caricature of Sophie’s Choice. As the big bad aliens invade Earth (incinerating humans just because they can), Cruise’s character, Ray Ferrier, is confronted with a tough decision; hold on (literally) to his son who wants to join the armed forces, or his daughter, who is about to be snatched by a raving lunatic. Ferrier opts for his daughter in what was supposed the most dramatic moment of the film, but for some reason there were no sniffles in the theater, no gasps, no teary eyes, just pure, unadulterated laughter. Keep in mind I was watching it New York, where the audience is somewhat sophisticated.

The correlation to a masterpiece like Sophie’s Choice, was obvious, immediate, and ultimately, damaging. The 1982 classic, is known for its incredible acting (which won Streep her second golden statuette), and powerful storytelling (which won William Styron the National Book Award). “Worlds” on the other hand, might have been a universe away; bad writing, bad acting (Hey Tom, I smell a Razzi) and an unbelievable storyline.

The novel written by H.G. Wells more than a century ago was without a doubt ahead of its time. It had a clear political message to its readers; the Industrial Revolution was in full force and Pasteur had just discovered bacteria and germs. But Spielberg had done nothing to update it and make it more relevant to our life and time. For example, you can’t help but wonder how aliens so smart they can travel through lightening, can’t figure out a vaccine that would protect them from our air? (there’s also the obvious reference to Columbus, but hey, why bore you with all that. Suffice to say, it simply doesn’t work).

The worst part? A cheesy and unnecessary voiceover in both the beginning and the end of the movie (narrated by the talented Morgan Freeman). Lazy. A good movie should speak for itself. And here’s me talking: Mr. Spielberg, you’re a fucking cheeseball, oh, and I want my money back.

Love,

Michael

Posted by Michael at 05:52 PM | Comments (14) | TrackBack

Point Counter-Point

To the lovely straight and opinionated lady:

1) I read your comment and thought you had some interesting points.
2) I like your spunk too
3) I still think you're dead wrong

Love,

Michael

PS
Thanks for the invite, but I don't dance and if i did, it wouldn't be anywhere near Stonewall.

Posted by Michael at 11:39 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

July 03, 2005

Green Party

I recently got an e-mail from someone who
responded to my entry on gay Republicans:

“I am not gay, Republican, or Democrat. I personally don’t believe in giving my mind away to a certain political ideology… But I voted ‘Green’ for two consecutive seasons. I am a straight female who’s also a gay rights activist…

I personally cannot understand how a gay person can be a Republican, but what have the Dems done? Did Kerry support gay marriage? Did Clinton support gay marriage?”

Yes, sadly that’s all true (well, almost). Clinton did support “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, ” he was also was the one to sign the “Defense of Marriage Act,” and yes, Democrats do take the gay vote for granted.

But darling, at the end of the day what you did was worse, you threw away your vote.

I went to a Kerry fundraiser last year. It was nice. More than 200 people wearing clothes that cost more than the GDP of a small African country. The dinner was a few thousand dollars a plate, and of course the guest of honor, Mr. Kerry himself was there.

Kerry knew this would not be his most enthusiastic audience. He was openly against same sex marriage and the crowd was predominantly gay. But at one point, he said something that stuck with me. He stood up and said, “I understand I’m not you’re ideal candidate and I know we don’t necessarily agree on every issue, but I have three words for you: ‘The. Supreme. Court’”

Applause…

This Friday Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor announced she’s leaving after 25 years on the bench. A moderate conservative, she was the swing vote in many issues including abortion. To add salt to injury, Chief Justice William Rehnquist is expected to retire as well (thyroid cancer) and in his place we’re getting Antonin.

So here’s my question to the lovely straight lady who sent me this e-mail above: Did you think of that before you threw away your vote and gave it to some ego-maniac idiot? Did you even bother to think of the bigger picture? This is a classic case of cutting off your nose to spite your face, only you’ve cut all our noses in the process.

Here’s a little suggestion, snap out of it. Realize that sometimes you need to be practical, and that politics is not for children. So, grow up, stop with the hissy-fits and next time, do the right thing. If not for yourself, than for the rest of us.

Love

Michael

Posted by Michael at 10:26 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

July 02, 2005

Some Responses....

Hey guys,

I would love to answer each and every one of you but I only have a few minutes each day to blog. Running a company takes most of my time. I can’t do much about the pout, I have big lips. So, please stop reminding me, I may develop a complex.

Saw many of your comments and loved them, especially the ones about Spain legalizing gay marriage.

Well, many of you asked about Canada, and why I didn’t include it in the list of nations which allow same sex marriages. Well, although the Canadian House of Commons passed legislation Tuesday that would in fact legalize gay marriage by the end of July, it needs approval by the Senate (it’s expected to pass). It has not yet done so, making our neighbors up north the fourth on this list, not third. (Spain's legislation passed by their Congress of Deputies on Thursday becomes law immediately).

Of course our hats off to our Maple leaf neighbors. And what I like most about it is that it’s so close to us, it’s got to irritate Mr. Bush, big time. Gay marriage will prevail in the USA. Like some of you said this is a big country, it’ll take time. But this is a matter of civil rights, and like segregation before it, this too shall pass.

As for Mr. Clinton, it’s true he has signed the DOMA (Defense of Marriage Act, what the hell was that about?), but I’d take him over Bush any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

Love

Michael

Posted by Michael at 09:56 AM | Comments (9) | TrackBack

July 01, 2005

Tom Cruise

What a boring bottom. Besides being a bad actor (his acting skills are almost as bad as mine) he’s also a miserable liar. I guess to pull off such a fairytale (so to speak) you need be able to perform more convincingly. This is just unbelievable:

Today I got yet another e-mail that’s been circulating all over the Internet. It seems Tom is quickly cruising out of control. No matter how many beauties he marries, how many kids he adopts, or how many times he goes on Oprah, it seems squashing the gay rumors is becoming more and more a mission impossible.

The latest tidbit, (and granted, I don’t know if it’s true, not sure I care), is HOT!

Apparently he’s been caught in bed with “Matchbox 20” Superstud Rob Thomas. In order to control the damage, the Cruise machine went into high gear in search of a new girlfriend. A hot, up and coming young little starlet who would gain respectability (and few million dollars) by becoming the next “it girl.” Enter Katie Holmes, choice number five on the possible list -- a pretty, wholesome, and judging by her past (Dawson’s Creek) and current (Batman Begins) work, talentless girl in need of all the help she could possibly get. Well, not sure if anyone’s buying but thanks for offering. No one can blame Cruise for being lazy.

All this comes as yet another Cruise controversy is brewing. Apparently along with homosexuality, Scientology doesn’t believe in anti-depressants or therapy for that matter. Tom recently went on the Today show to explain why Brooke Shields was wrong in seeking treatment for post-partum depression (ha?) He then went on to say that too many people are abusing prescription drugs these days. If you ask me, Tom looked like he could use some Ritalin himself.

Hey Tom, if you’re not gay than why all this energy spent on proving it? Seems a little suspicious. Isn’t time to come out of your spooky Scientology-mothed closet? You know if you gave it a try, you might realize being gay ain’t that bad, especially looking the way you do. You could suck dick at any time and wouldn’t even have to schedule a pussy-filled photo-opp the next day. I think if you gave it some time, you might even discover you’re a big hungry bottom. If that ever happens, give me a call, I got a 10 inch dick that will surely help fix all you cult-driven phobias.

Posted by Michael at 11:01 AM | Comments (11) | TrackBack