Thursday, March 25, 2010


Alas, our conjugal visits are too few and far between.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Training of O

Holly Stevens

Master and Servant

Nouvelle Vague

On their new album, "Three," Nouvelle Vague continues replaying your punk and New Wave mix tapes, but this time, with guest artists from the original bands. Depeche Mode is reprised with Depeche Mode's Martin Gore.

Thursday, March 18, 2010


Is it just me, or is that bagpipe player looking up my kilt?

Thursday, March 11, 2010


One of the highlights of last weekend’s Armory Show was Marc Quinn’s life-sized sculpture of female-to-male transgendered porn actor Buck Angel. Quinn has worked with celebrity subjects before—he gained some tabloid notoriety by depicting a spidery Kate Moss and a very pregnant Britney Spears on all fours—yet here, Buck Angel is presented in a straightforward manner, much as he presents himself. Not surprising, as Angel collaborated in the creation of his representation.

Here’s a frontal shot—minus my foot—for a better sense of the work’s frankness.

Thursday, March 04, 2010


It was beautifully timed. A few hours into our threesome, a boy was to arrive. The girls were excited to add him to our mix.

But then events conspired against us. Stupid stuff, really: he was at the door, lacking the right buzzer number. He had been to the address before, so we thought it was set. This time, he didn't have the right information at hand. He tried our numbers, our texts, our emails, but we were fucking and missed it all. He went away and, by the time we reconnected, he was lost to his other plans for the evening.

It was unfortunate news, but still, we kept fucking. Eventually, the girls got tired of me. "Seriously, Jefferson," Anna complained. "I didn't come to New York to fuck just one cock."

"You're a bad host," Kay nodded. "No extra cock? That's like running out of dip."

"I feel really bad," I apologized. "Not to mention we're nearly out of bourbon. Let me see what I can do."

I made a call. An hour or so later, a boy showed up with a cock and a bottle. The girls were well pleased. "It's New York," I reassured Anna. "You can get anything delivered."

Anna, true to form, delivered me a finger.

The Look of Love

Dusty Springfield

Washington, D.C. now has gay marriage!

Let's celebrate the improved look of love by swaying to the most perfect of sixties pop tunes as popularized by Dusty Springfield. She came out as bisexual in nineteen-seventy:

"A lot of people say I'm bent, and I've heard it so many times that I've almost learned to accept it . . . I couldn't stand to be thought of as a big butch lady. I know I'm perfectly as capable of being swayed by a girl as by a boy. More and more people feel that way and I don't see why I shouldn't."

Dusty later swapped vows with her lesbian lover. Sure, they also swapped licks with skillets, but what romance comes without hard knocks?

Love skillets aside, feel the desire in minor-seventh and major-seventh chord changes.

I can hardly wait to hold you,
Feel my arms around you.
How long have I waited?
Waited just to love you?
Now that I have found you,
Don't ever go.
I love you so.