The Prudish Invasion

If you were wondering why I came down so hard on that hater in Sunday's post, it's because just this past Friday, I ran into another prude. This one turned me down for a hook-up because - I do gay porn. So I got bombarded with hypocritical prudeness for my entire weekend. APrudish Invasion, if you will.

I was talking to this guy at Sugarland, and he seemed pretty into me from early on in the night. I could see with my peripheral vision as wide as it is that he kept looking over at me without me looking at him. I waited until a moment where we were close to each other to exchange a glance. The moment arrived, and we smiled at each other. He initiated speaking to me, and it went from there.

At one point, one of the newest go-go boys, Benoît, came by offering $1 shots. I was more than welcome to take one, because beside craving a taste of something, to get it from a tall, gorgeous Euro-boy with a cute butt in his undies like Benoît was an added bonus. I noticed that this guy I had just met however, seemed to tense up. I sensed a vibe from him saying, "Oh my dear Lord, there's a guy here in his underwear! Oh my virgin eyes!"

Benoît remembered me from the week before when he auditioned, so after Benoît walked away, this guy was wondering what Benoît was talking about. So not to boast, but show my honest nature, I told him that I danced there at Sugarland just the week before, and that I also do gay porn.

Later on, he told me that it made him feel uncomfortable. I thanked him for his honesty and let him be on his way. My complaint is once again the hypocrisy. You walked into a gay party knowing you would see go-go boys, and you're served your drinks by shirtless bartenders and without apprehension you take your liquor. All that is a form of adult entertainment, and you act as if you want no part of it. If such is the case, why did you come here? Hmmm! I smell something, and it doesn't have a great aroma. It must be that damn HYPOCRISY.

Now I'm not saying I should get every cock and ass I want because I do porn, but come on! I didn't ask for a date. I didn't propose marriage. We met at party looking to HOOK-UP. And having a one-night stand is having a one-night stand, whether it's with a corporate player, or a pornstar, or if your forking over cash to have it with a hooker.

As far as if I got any that night.

YES, I did. You see, me and a fuck buddy were suppose to go to WORK, but I decided on Sugarland instead. He didn't go with me, in fact, he didn't go to WORK either, he stayed in his neighborhood of the East Village. So he went his way, and I went mine, and we decided that after awhile if we don't find anything else to hook-up. After Mr. Prude turned me down, I text him that I was on my way to where he was which was The Cock. When I arrived, The Cock was going to close in 30 minutes, so I was not going inside. He came out, and made out ferociously with me right there on the street. We went back to his place, and did I forget to mention he takes dance? And if you know my thing for dancers, then you know I couldn't wait to get naked with this one. Especially with that nice round ass of his. The reason I knew this was a great back-up plan was because when me and this guy fuck, we go primal on each other and REALLY FUCK. Maybe it has something to do with his being born on the cusp of Aquarius and Pisces, because astrologically speaking, my experience has been that sex with water signs like Pisces makes me insatiable and I just want to fuck all day. We didn't however, but I would have mided if we did. So my Friday night outing had a happy ending after all, despite being turned by that hypocritcal prude.

And one more thing, my fuck buddy is one of those who reminds me that not all Americans have come under playing this puritanical hypocrisy, because he is American born and raised.

Me and another friend of mine recently discussed this hypocrisy along with the email I received over the weekend, and he reminded me of something. Of how in Eastern European societies, sex is a fact of life which is why there aren't as many hang-ups about it in those societies like there is here in America. I wish America would adopt that attitude. Maybe then the number of Europeans I date or trick with would be more equal to the number of Americans instead of outnumbering by at least 7 times. And just so you know, I've had less than 5 Americans in my time. I will commend some Americans, as quite a few I know agree with me on this matter. But until that day arrives where the percentage of Americans adopting that openess about sex increases, I'll be still having a thing for Euro-boys.

So let's hope after this past weekend of a prudish invasion, these jerks have left my space for good.

Pre- and Post-Bad Boys Craziness

The weekend of the Bad Boys Sea Tea and a few days after were quite a busy week for me. I had something scheduled on Saturday, of course Sunday, Monday, and Wednesday.

On Saturday, I had a photo shoot scheduled. The photographer was someone I met awhile ago wanting to build his portfolio. After a number of scheduling and communication conflicts, we finally made it happen. Being understanding of an artist trying to make a name fir himself, and seeing samples of his work on sites like Model Mayhem, I was happy to let him work his photographic prowess with me as a subject. I'm looking forward to seeing the end result, because what I saw during the shoot looked quite good. So you'll just have to wait and see how right I am about that.

After my Sunday filled with debauchery, I appeared at WOOF! at View Bar for a post-Bad Boys party thanks to an invitation by Max Scott. It was good to hang with Will Clark, Duke Rivers, Mike Dreyden, and Vin Nolan again in a calmer environment after such an exciting day before. We all did a couple of go-go dancing sets. Me and Mike Dreyden did 1 solo and the other together.

Vin Nolan also did a couple of sets. In fact, for his second he changed into some leather gear, and I have some video of it for you here.

Duke Rivers showed the crowd the fetish of dripping candle wax on the body by pouring it on himself, and then some of then Mike and Vin.

Just when I thought I was safe, a patron leaned over and said, "Wow! You should go up there, and get it done to you. That would be such a hot look against your skin tone."

To myself I thought, "I know this guy just put the whammy on me looking like someone shot their protein load on me."

And sure enough he did, because the next thing I knew, Duke motioned for me to come up to the stage. I knew it wouldn't hurt. It was the cleaning it off that I wanted to avoid, including how when I was getting dressed to go home, I found some dried wax right in the crack of my ass. Even with that, it was a fun night hanging out with a few of the Bad Boys.

Wednesday night, I appeared at Will Clark's Porno Bingo with Emerging Artist Theatre (E.A.T.) as the beneficiary for the evening. It was quite a small crowd, but I was very impress by the fact that we raised $350 dollars from such a small crowd. I've seen it in the past where they were 1 1/2 to 2 times more people and trying to raise that much money was like pulling teeth. So the people at E.A.T. and their supporters who came out that night really should pat themselves on the back for a job well done.

Well, that was m y busy weekend plus, so this weekend, I have made it my business to relax myself, and catch up some much needed rest, so I can be raring to go from this day forth.

Are you ready for me? ;-)

In Defense Of My Porn Brothers & Sisters

I got an invite from my friend Andrew to go to Dance 208 at the LGBT Center in NYC. When I got home, I checked my email to find this in my Bulk folder with the subject line, "Tre-X: You prosistutes are hilarious". I opened the email to find this:

Deren Hills <#####> wrote:

I was reading your blog and you "porn stars" crack me up sometimes. You guys are legal PROSTITUTES, and you really seem to think that you really are somehow a "celebrity". I never understood that. There's is nothing glamorous about being called in by some pimp (porn company) to suck a dick for $500 and then to go home. Why are you guys so delusional? Do you desire to make your work seem more upstanding in order to evade depression from the whoring? I really never understood that. Time after time after time i've seen hookers like you get into porn and start slutting away, AND YOU ALL REALLY BELIEVE THAT YOU'RE FAMOUS OR SOMEONE TO BE IDOLIZED. Bending over on film isn't something to be exceptionally proud of...there's nothing artistic about getting cum blown on your face...and getting gangbanged is just hoish...not inspiring. You were a hoe/easy before porn obviously....you "love sex". But why would you think that being a dvd/online/live sex show hoe is enviable...Most porn stars are losers with problems, a lost and confused self-image, and no respect for their bodies. Would your mother, father, friends and other family memebers be proud to see you getting double penetrated? Please explain to me why porn "stars" (legal prostitues), are so self-agrandizing and detached from reality?


My response to this email was as follows:

First off, learn to use spell check. You were so busy finger-pointing that you misspelled "prostitutes" in the subject line. So with that advice in mind, know that while you really don't deserve any piece of my intellect, I will give it to you anyway.

Capitalizing the word "PROSTITUTES" doesn't insult me in anyway like you were intending, because I am more than aware that being a porn actor is a form of prostitution. Hence why I have no qualms about capitalizing it myself. Now while the basic rule of prostitution is that you get paired with whoever, I probably have not done as many movies as I could have because I fight for my human right to have a say in who I'm paired with, because viewers are looking to see me enjoying myself. And I don't want to lie about my level of enjoyment.

To answer your question as to why I should be idolized, I am unable to speak for every porn actor. For myself, I am not looking to be idolized. I just enjoy doing what I do. However, what my fans tell me that they like about me is the fact that by way of my blog, I do admit to the fact that I am a flawed individual. I am human. Your email shows you trying to avoid admitting to the fact that you are flawed as well, because every industry has people with problems, and you insist on acting as if that isn't the case in whatever industry you yourself are in.

While as far as I know I am not a big name in the adult industry, if I wasn't to some degree a celebrity, you would have no motivation to email me this tantrum of yours. You emailed me because not only am I a celebrity, but you envy my celebrity. It royally pisses you off to know that there are people out there who like to watch me do something as natural as have sex, and would probably vomit at the sight of you doing it. And not because of your body type or your face, but because your "holier-than-thou" attitude gives off an energy that would make the sight of you having sex repulsive. It may even be repulsive to your significant other, but they're too much of a coward to be that honest with you, because they get something else out of the relationship - like money. So that would make them a whore as well. The very thing you're saying you loathe so much.

And that is if you have a significant other in the 1st place. Because I wouldn't be a bit surprised if I was to find out that you constantly hire escorts, and make it your business to have them be pornstars. Anyone in the mental field will tell you, this tirade of yours might be a way of covering up the guilt you feel for what you might be doing.

In regards to my family and friends, my mother is aware of what I do and may not care much for the fact that I do porn, but she is proud of what I personally have done with it, such as my using my blog to talk about racism, and address issues like the controversy over this "pregnant man". She is proud of me for that much, as are my friends. Now while my friends may not want to watch me, because they prefer to not see me in that light, they do support the fact that I have the nerve to do what I do.

And lastly, you may not want to see it before your eyes - then don't watch. But know that sex is a beautiful thing. The act, the penetration, the semen to show the release of sexual tension - all of it is a thing of natural beauty. So what makes it "glamorous" is the fact that we performers present ourselves as tools to show that thing of natural beauty. Now while some may hold it sacred, others show it to the world. And you know what? That is the choice of the individual. So let me and my fellow performers live by our choice, as we allow you to live by yours. Thank you.

Did I tell him right? If not, then what did I say wrong? While I pose this question especially to my fellow performers, all of your feedback is greatly wanted and appreciated.

There Are Bad Boys, And Then There Are THE BAD BOYS

First off, let me apologize to anyone who hopes I got up in thinking that they were going to see me use a Fleshjack live on the Bad Boys On The Hudson Sea Tea. The fact of the matter is that from the moment I hit the stage, I was distracted.

Before I come off so cheap and tawdry, it wouldn't be right to not start by acknowledging Michael Fresco for having us, Will Clark for inviting me to perform another year, and the event's beneficiary, Team Eagle for their humanitaritan efforts, and DJ Randy Bettis for giving us music thta helped to keep our energy, therefore "other things" UP.
I also need to acknowledge all the familiar faces that I saw to make this day even more fun. Faces like Enrico Vega and Porn Journalist Vincent Lambert (who took all the photos here except those indicated by * from Brandon), as well as Sergio Anthony and Vin Nolan who to my surprise was actually brought in as a performer at the last minute. I was even interviewed for EDGE New York City by Mike Diamond, who was a guest on DList Radio the same day I was.

And last but not least, one of my MySpace friends D.J. Perez. It is always a pleasure coming face to face with the fans and friends you meet on line, and this time was no different. In fact, for all those who got an autographed photo from me, it was D.J. wh supplied me with the discount cards for Fleshjack and NakedSword.com.

In the past, when I've blogged about my being on the Bad Boys cruise, I've been quite discreet about the goings on behind the scenes and during the performances. You'll be glad to know that the goings-on were so HOT, that my being so discreet is not going to happen today.

I totally forgot that when Will Clark announced the schedule for all the pornstars to go up and perform, he put Tyger Hudson up first, followed by me. But remembering the chemistry me and Tyger had last year, I knew most like, that Fleshjack was going to be left on the side of the stage during my whole performance.

Tyger and myself made the crowd go wild, while I'm starting to market myself as more of my so-far off-camera position of versatile, I definitely left myself to being seen as a bottom with Tyger. But by no means did I make the simulated sex make me look like a passive bottom. After all, a passive bottom my size couldn't and wouldn't hold up the weight of a muscular guy like Tyger up on his back while Tyger grinds ferociously. Or thrust back on him.

*After Tyger was done with his set and left the stage, I decided to devote my attention to getting hard so I could give my Fleshjack show like I intended. However, to no avail was I getting hard. Since there were cute guys in my view to focus on, I thought I was having one of those days where I needed a touch in addition to visual stimulation. I proved myself wrong when I decided to check out the crowd of guys behind me.

That's when I saw him.
This blond who looked like he could be related to Mason Wyler with just a fine a body and a cleft chin. I immediately started getting hard, and the more I imagined his hot bod hovering over mine raining sweat on me while I grab his ass sweaty from the work of thrusting hard into me, the harder I became.
So why no show?
Because just as I was about to become hard enough that my cock would need a hole(like the one in a Fleshjack) for release, the stud suddenly walked away. And the shock sent my dick back to limping. I knew he didn't leave because he was bothered by my staring at him, because I wasn't. I took him in for a couple of seconds, and after that I stared at the walls while having my fantasy. Besides based on what I saw later, he probably wanted me to stare at him with the admiration his body deserved.

A few minutes after Mike Dreyden and Torez took to the stage, I left, gave myself a break, and changed from the underwear you see in the pic to a brown swimming bikini that matched my skin so well, you might think at first glance I was naked.
*
I decided to go back to possibly do another set. By now, there were already about 4 guys on the stage. While I was standing there contemplating, I saw the blond stud again to my right. This time with a crowd around him, and I knew he had to have been getting a blowjob. I decided to get on the stage. I played with Vin for a bit, then once again I got rowdy with Tyger to the crowd's delight. At some point, the blond moved from them and wound up in front of me and Tyger Hudson with this cock out. Me and Tyger double-teamed him going back and forth between one of us sucking his dick while the other licked his balls, then he jumped up on the stage and we really went at him. After I put in some major work trying to suck him as if I was farmer trying to get every last drop of milk from a cow's tit, me, Tyger, and everyone else could see he was about to pop, and I was the lucky recipient to get some of his jizz on my belly, while the rest went on his hand. Although, I would have preferred that he fucked my ass (like many in the crowd would have probably preferred), unlike those guys, at least I can say some part of my body got the taste and feel of his cock by way of a good face-fuck.

After being a slutty heathen, it was time for the raffle and autograph signing. I was so surprised to realize how far I've come from being often overlooked at this event to now becoming more of an attraction as the crowd showed me this past Sunday. So I was very grateful to ONE Condoms for offering to give me 250 condom tins with my blog logo on it. I started passing them out on the Sea Tea, then again on Monday at View Bar celebrating the success of Bad Boys On The Hudson, and the rest will be handed out on Wednesday night when I make my next appearance as guest caller at Porno Bingo. I hope to see you there are.

Thank you all for making this the best year yet for me. I'm so blessed to have you as fans.

Atlantic City Confession

My trip a couple of months ago to Atlantic City was a whole lot of fun. But just as they say how every dark cloud has a silver lining, the opposite also holds true because every blue sky has a dark cloud moving in. And when I was in Atlantic City, that dark cloud to my misfortune was my roommate. If it's not bad enough that I struck out on those damn slot machines, I also struck out when they were pairing people together to be roommates.

This revelation didn't hit me until after all the hotel room hopping we were doing. I got hit with this moment of truth while we were lying in our beds, about to go to sleep at 5 AM.

I forgot how it came about. We had the TV on in our room, and I think something came on about either Barrack Obama and/or Hilary Clinton. My ever-so-intellectual roomie made a comment about how Obama "doesn't bite the bullet", and how in making a choice about going to war, George W. Bush did. And I normally wouldn't say this, but when have I not called a spade a spade. So can you say "DUMB MOTHER FUCKER"?

Now if you've read this blog often enough, you know by now that I HATE IGNORANCE. Anyone who comments here saying something totally foolish gets called on it. I do if for my blog, and I do it in my everyday life. So this dipstick was not immune to the truth I was about to lay on him before calling it a night.

I brought up the fact that George W. Bush's "biting the bullet" has cost hundred of thousands of lives. Therefore, he should be considered a mass murderer. What I didn't mention was how Bush is anti-gay and getting in the way of the progress we were making during the Clinton years. I didn't mention that because it would have lead to me screaming the question so loud that the entire Hilton Hotel would have heard my roar thinking it was an earthquake, "As a gay man, you should be aware of Bush being anti-gay, and loathe Bush for this, so WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU FUCKIN' NEW TO THE PLANET EARTH? MAYBE YOU WERE BORN AT NIGHT, BUT WAS IT REALLY LAST NIGHT?!!!!!!!!!"

At least I maintained my composure, because the worst thing to do to me is be the downer to my good-time. It really makes my dark side come out, and based on the following scenario, I'm sure you can understand why I had to keep it under control.

I just had a fun day and night out in Atlantic City, with some cool people, some of whom I never met or hung out with before, so while I am ready to turn in at 5:00 in the morning, the last thing I want to do is wind up in a debate about dimwitted, homophobic, fuck-faced, warmongering George W. Mother Fuckin' Bush.

When I initially saw this guy, I thought he was kind of cute. This is one of those times that prove how your intellect can enhance your outer beauty, and vice versa hold true as well. Because in this guy's case, the lack of an intellect definitely diminished whatever good looks he had immensely.

Let's hope the next time I decide to go on a road trip, if I don't pick my rooommate, that I'll get paired with the best kind of hottie. One with beauty and brains.

Sugarland Go-Go

I've been telling my friend, Ernie who's a bartender at Sugarland that I was going to check out his Friday night party there. I've been saying it for a while, and few weeks ago, I finally made good on my word. And I had so much fun. It wasn't overwrought with that Chelsea air of superficial superiority that I have often complained about at Splash Bar. And with that in mind, I asked Ernie if I could dance at one of his parties.

I got an email from Ernie last week saying there may be an opening, then it got confirmed a couple of days later. And I was so cool with that, especially knowing that Bianca Del Rio was going to be there hosting a game, "Are You Smarter Than A Go-Go Boy?" So I knew I was going to be eyewitness and maybe even possible victim to some sharp stings from that tongue of hers. And I so hit the nail on the head. I did make a fool of myself answering one question though. The question was, "Who was the 1st man to walk on the moon?".

I answered, "Louis Armstrong."

YES! YES! I KNOW! I KNOW! Rip me a new another new one already! Bianca let it slide a bit, but not without reminding me in Bianca's own special way that it was an Armstrong, but it was Neil Armstrong. The funny thing is, I've been making that mistake and correcting it in my head since I was in school. Now all these years later, I make the mistake for a room full of people to hear. Well, if you can't laugh at yourself, who can you truly enjoy laughing at?

The other go-go boy was Myles. Good-looking guy, nice body, and I had no idea what I was in for working the crowd with him. Myles gave off this fun energy that I enjoyed playing off of. With the difference between dancing at one of Daniel Nardicio's parties and what you see at a club being that at Daniel's parties, the dancers interact more with each other, I kind of expected to not really interact much with Myles while performing. Well, how does simulated sex on the bar, or making out in the balcony for the patrons to enjoy do for a good amount of interaction? And trust me, especially with the simulated sex, Myles has a great ass, and if you haven't figured out the equation about me and nice asses by now, here it goes:

Tré + Nice Asses = Tré's HAPPY as a pig in slop

Well, evidently the same equation may hold true for Myles after the spanking he gave me. I'll save the details of that story and possible new kink for the blog I do for Pitbull Productions ThugPornBlog.

As you can see, Sugarland is a blast. And I say that from the prospective of both a patron and a go-go boy for 1 night. It was also great getting kudos from Bianca Del Rio and Myles. I couldn't even think of going out on Saturday because I was so wired, that when I got home, I didn't go to sleep until late in the morning nearing noon.

So I strongly advise you to check it out for yourself, if you haven't done so already. Sugarland is located at 221 N. 9th Street between Driggs and Roebling in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. Just 2 blocks away from the Bedford Avenue stop on the L train. Go have a blast!

The Lust In Me For Logan McCree

I have a strong attraction to men with tattoos. I mentioned it before in one of my post for my "Getting Out The Kinks" series. But there does come a point when it is just too much. You would think someone who I would have that opinion of is Raging Stallion exclusive, Logan McCree. But actually while he has way more than most, he has just enough, and they are placed just right.

I think I would have a different feeling about all his tattoos if they were in color, because there has never been a guy with close to that many tattoos or more that I have found sexy. But Logan is a whole different story. I think he's straight up and down a tattooed stud, and if he ever gets a case of jungle fever, he can feel free to releive himself of it on me.

As I said before, I see tattoos as an extension of the person. I especially find them sexy when they are somewhat raised on the skin, as mine just happened to somewhat be. I wanted my tattoo as an extension of myself, which is why I designed it and had it done about 10 years ago. I've designed others, but have been too much of a chicken shit to get them put on, and since that time, I've lost the designs on paper. The basics of them however are still in my brain.

Logan's tattoos definitely tell a story about him. So much so, they look like a uniform of some kind, and if you try to imagine them 3-dimensional, and fill in the spaces, you would have a artistically designed suit, possibly of armor. With that in mind, he's perfect for those who like to get fucked by a man in uniform. You get the uniform by way of his tattoos, yet you are not denied the view of his fit physique.

I wonder if that was his intention to make it look like a uniform, because I'm sure that is what draws many like myself to his fanbase. Besides him being ruggedly handsome, his many tattoos aren't too much to handle. And since they aren't too much to handle (when most people with that many are) you can't help but look and be amazed.

While looking at Logan McCree through the eyes of the lustful creature that I am, I am also looking at his tattoos through the eyes of an artist. Like I said earlier, I designed my own tattoos, and I am not such a self-involved artist that I can't admire others' great work. And whoever did Logan's tattoos did some phenomenal work, and Logan himself must have a great artistic eye to have them so well placed on his body.

Well, by taking note of such distinct details about his hot bod, what more can I say but the obvious - I'm in lust with Logan McCree. And I know I'm not alone. I wrote this blog just to find out how many of you also have your tongue hanging out of your mouths every time you see his tattooed cock sliding in and out of some guy's wanting hole,

or his tattooed ass bounce from some ass-hungry stud banging the hell out of it.

I'm glad you showed yourself. Now, wipe your drool.

And for the pics (except the vidcap), give a BIG THANKS
to the courtesy of Kent Taylor at Raging Stallion Studios.

The Anonymous Cowardice

"Anonymous"

It's a name that every time I see the beginning of a comment, "Anonymous said...", I become royally pissed. And that's being civil and polite. The actions that run through my mind in retaliation are dangerously far from civil, therefore by no means polite.

The reason I become so enraged is because everytime someone signs a comment "Anonymous", it is a negative comment. Negative in a way that is not always because it goes against my opinion, but because it's totally cynical. Cynicism that is born out of company-loving misery. Well, I have no interest in joining you in your misery, and I don't care to subject my readers to it either. So you can keep that negativity to yourself.

Now, I understand the human psyche enough to know not everyone can agree on a matter, no matter how many valid points one feels they have made. So when someone disagrees with me, while I may feel they are going down the wrong path because of their belief, I have to accept the fact that they disagree. That is IF they validate their comment, and you can validate your comment by simply leaving a name.

An actual name gives a personality to what you have to say. It gives it humanity. The name "Anonymous" says that you are too much of a chicken shit to back up your opinion. And the most likely reason a person doesn't want to validate their opinion is because they know their opinion disputes a fact, and of course facts always far surpass opinions. So if their opinion is responded to with one or more facts, the coward using "Anonymous" doesn't have to face his/her name being associated with their error in judgement, or in some cases - blatant stupidity.

Now while my blog is here run by Blogger which is part of Google, I won't accept the excuse I received recently from someone using "Anonymous" as being that "I don't have a Google account".

If you read the instructions to making comments, that's a bullshit excuse, and the only way you can get away with it is if you have some kind of reading disorder. You can easily put in a name without having a Google account. And you can easily find that out if you are truly determined to stand behind your comment and validate it with a name.

The Internet has given these cowards a veil to hide behind. I see that name "Anonymous" pop up on all too many blogs with the dumbest things to say. Showing how they are so desperate for attention, that they'll lessen the worth of their existence by making an ass of themselves. And if you are one of those who use "Anonymous" as that veil, then YES - the cowardly desperate dumb ass I am speaking is you, you, YOU.

What are you afraid of?

I've sparred with regular readers in the past, and even though I have disagreed with them, they still have my respect because I have a name to remember them by, and by that among other things, they showed a great deal of intellect in the process.

We are all adults here. I would like to think we can all act like it, therefore be adult enough to stand behind what we say with a name for everyone in the blogsphere to know us by. Especially when we're speaking words of wisdom. Because there is no need to hide behind the cowardice of anonymity when you are showing a worthwhile intellect.

With this in mind, I'm going to leave you with the same advice your parents should have told you. If they did, good for them and shame on you for not listening. But if they didn't, then "Anonymous" - you are clearly showing how the apple doesn't fall far from the tree when it comes to being absolutely useless.
The advice is, "If you don't have any worthwhile to say, don't say anything at all."

Whether I'm repeating myself, or telling you for the 1st time, at least I know you've been told. Now get it together, show some smarts, and grow a pair, so you're not afraid to show you have a brain. Thank you.

The Radical Tré Xavier

My mother has often teased me calling me a "radical". And believe it or not, I take it as a compliment.

While the term "radical" usually refers to one or more people who use extreme and often physically harmful tactics to incite change, my mother is stating how aggressive I am in my verbal attacks to incite change. It's something you've seen here often, and I have been that aggressive since I was a child. Perfect example - how many grade school children would verbally retaliate against a bully by saying,"You act the way you do, because your mother didn't raise you right." And when I would say that, I meant it wholeheartedly, and nearly 30 years later, I don't regret it, because it was true then, and it still hold true of kids today.

The truth, God-given human rights, and equality have always been my motivators to take the stands that I have, do, and will take in my life, and although I am capable of physically defending myself (because I'm actually quite stronger that the perception my size would create), words have always been my weapon of choice even before I became self-aware of my writing abilities. And I have no qualms about the fact that it has made me not one of management or administration's favorite employees on my day job at "KKLLP". Because at least they know with me - to watch their step. If I played bobble-head doll like most, they wouldn't think twice about raking me over the coals.

Splash here in NY which is a bar with a bunch of tables and stools that get removed around 10 PM, so it can then become a club. I've been there when this change takes place, and seen when just a single-digit number of people hit the dancefloor. I told a co-worker from my day job about this, and how when I get on it, after about 5 minutes, a whole bunch of people get on the dancefloor as well, and they start from around me and spread out from there. This happens no matter where I am on the dancefloor - the center, far right, far left, front or back. My co-worker told me based on what he's seen of me at each year's office Christmas party, that I give off an energy that everyone wants to be around, which is great. The problem is so many of those people seems to be citizens of Rhythmless Nation, as opposed to citizens of Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation.

What does this have to do with my writing?

Because the way that energy comes off in my dancing is the same way I want it to come off in my writing, thereby affecting my readers. Especially when I dealing with an issue, like racism. I want the passion I have to change this to be infectious, because if it is then more people will take a stand to make that change happen. Some like a couple of people who commented on the story Gay Porn Times did on my post about Asians in gay porn, see what I do as simple complaining. Well, it is not complaining when so many others feel the same, and no one is making any noise. Then it's called "getting the ball rolling". It's called "inciting needed change". And since I'm not a studio head, that's the best I can do at this juncture. At least I'm not seeing that there's a problem, and making myself into a jellyfish by just ignoring the problem, and not speaking on it.

This has always been my way. From poetry writing as a child, to singing and songwriting in my adult years. In fact, as a singer and songwriter, my goal was to write music that would change the world from becoming the overload of self-loathing, and lack of loving your fellow man that it is today. I sent out demo tapes with message music, and record labels wouldn't hear of it. You see, they'll take a message album from an established artist, but a new artist who plans to build their career on songs with a message, record companies heavily promote only 1 song, making them 1-hit wonders.

So with that game plan, what do we now have?

Homophobic hip-hop rappers raking in millions, teaching our next generation how to be shallow individuals "all about the bling", and disrespectful to women by calling them "bitches" as a general term. I saw the industry going in this direction which is why I stopped pursuing it. While I matured enough to realize that I couldn't change the world, I knew what I had to say had the chance of inspiring much need change in just 1 person. And that 1 person might become someone who creates a domino effect of good will, instead of the ghetto trash thinking our young people are heavily influenced by now.

If what I do is seen as radical behavior, do I have any intentions of changing it?

NOT AT ALL, because the world needs louder voices for the right, so we can overpower the ones that are wrong and winning the battle. So if you feel passionate about a wrong-doing, if you can't voice it, write it down, or get on your keyboard and type it. Let modern technology work to the greater good's advantage as it has for the greater evil's. Hence the reason I came up with the saying on this blog's page:
In 1839, Edward Bulwer-Lytton coined the phrase, “The pen is mightier than the sword”. Well now, thanks to the computer age, the pen has an ally. And it’s called - “the keyboard.”

I'm not trying to blow my own horn, but I'm proud of who I've become, making the noise that I make. Because I'm a peaceful person, and the only one who sees me as a threat or troublemaker - are the ones guilty as sin.

Me and My Fleshjack - A Better View

At Daniel Nardicio's Pride party, "Cruising At The Trucks", there was a Fleshjack-Off Booth, where guys went in, masturbated using a Fleshjack and it was videotaped without showing your face. Now if you recall my Fleshlight video, you know I enjoyed myself. The Fleshlight I used was made like an anus. This one was made like a mouth. I was so horned up from all the playing I was doing before going to that booth, along with the cocks I saw shooting loads in the booth before me, I was about to shoot my load in like 2 minutes. So I had to pace myself. And for this video, I had to pace myself again, because those Fleshjack feel soooooooo good, it makes you eager to shoot your load, but you know it's way too soon.

Instead of telling you how I paced myself, why don't I show you. Since Blogger is giving me problems embedding the video, I gave you the link instead so you can see for yourself how I had to pace myself again, because those Fleshjacks feel sooooooo good, it makes you eager to shoot your load when you know it's way too soon. Since I now have a real video camera, instead of the webcam I used in my 1st video, I can show my pacing skills at work. Enjoy.

I hope you liked it, and I didn't get any on you. That is, unless you wanted me to.

I Am The Most Beautiful

Monday morning, my friend Andrew took me as his guest to the Saints At Large party, "Champions". I ran into someone there whose name my most loyal readers have not heard for some time - Igor.

A few months ago was his birthday, and since I have grown to where I don't have to think of him as dead to me because the Chelsea boy mentality that he had at the time did not fit in my world, I tried to be a better man and sent him this email:

Hi Igor,

They say never say never
But while I doubt that we'll ever be friends again
I do hope that another year has made you wiser
Therefore, more so the person of depth
I always hoped you were

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Peace, Love, and Faith 4 Infinity

He replied saying "Thanks" and that he claiming he found it to be a nice surprise from me.

Well during the "Champions" party, I realized that he was within viewing distance from me with some of his friends. I had 2 conflicting inner-voices. The 1st voice said, "Look at his friends. You need to see this. Look at them."

The 2nd voice said, "What the fuck for? In my desire to better my inner-self by being less shallow, I've decided that he and his kind have no place in my life."

The 1st voice replied, "That's why you need to look. To see whether or not "him and his kind" are the same bad thing you remember. So please - look?"

I caved and looked at them, and what I saw made me appalled with myself.

There was not 1 guy in that clique who didn't look like the gym was not his 2nd (maybe even 1st home) and gulps a body-building drink like it had the same necessity to living as water. They were all the negative stereotype of Chelsea boys. I say negative stereotype because I have yet to meet anyone that focused on their physique and their looks, yet have an equally beautiful character. The only ones who find that character beautiful is someone just as void of that inner-beauty.

What made me appalled with myself was remembering the fact that I was at one time one of those pretty people in his clique. And while I can be proud of the fact that the reason I'm still not in it is because my depth of character would not allow it, it doesn't change the fact that I was at risk of losing and not bettering that depth by being in his circle. Had I lost that, I would not have bettered myself to the point I am now where I can say compared to any Chelsea boy and one who shares those "standards", that "I am the most beautiful. And not because of the face and body that gets so many compliments from you, but because I have a heart I want to share with you, instead of hiding its light in a gym or blocking its shine by drenching it in a bevy of drinks from GNC."

So it seems that my birthday wish for Igor did not come true. If it did, i would not have seen what I saw. A group of friends so contrary to what I have. For I have friends that are all beautiful, but not by the Chelsea boy standard. They are all beautiful by the standard of being worthwhile existences by displaying humanity. My friends come in all colors, body types, and financial backgrounds. With Chelsea boys (and the like-minded counterparts across the globe) you need to have a certain financial standing to be an acceptable presence. After all, it takes a lot of money to make yourself pretty - especially when it's only for outer beauty.

I stopped going to events like "Champions" because it is such a tired scene of narcissistic cliques that is now become very much beneath me. It is a scene where the energy and fun you thrive on is that which you make yourself. I had fun, but it was made solely by me. I'm sure plenty of other party-goers fun and energy was drug induced. Therefore, the only way you'll be foolish enough to believe you're joining others in their energy is if you're on some drug that makes you that delusional.

I'm glad I saw Igor. I always wondered whether or not he had changed. And if he did change, then I would have felt sorry for kicking him out of my life. Now I see, I have nothing to feel sorry for, but I would have rather felt sorry than what I feel now. Because my feeling sorry would have meant that he accomplished maturing, so he did the right thing. Instead the reality is I did the right thing, because I accomplished maturing with no grudges weighing on me. The right thing that makes me the most beautiful where it counts - in the heart, mind, and soul.