Sex and the Second City

The Down Low Performer

I (kinda sorta) want the man in this picture.  nnenna (left) vaughn (right) from ANTM Cycle 6

Could The Sex be sexed out?

Embarrasing Moments

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Last week I was in LA in a whack hotel with a fruity--but kinda cute front deskman.  It was about 3 o'clock in the morning.  And I had just had a dream about my hotel frontdeskman.  He had flirted with me earlier that morning.  I went back to the front desk to pretend to get some ice, and to my surprise, I found the short black man stretched out in the lobby on an amazing exqusite (yet comfortable looking) divan.

He was snoring.  I was 101% sure that my front deskman was gay.  I was about 99% sure that he was attracted to me.  I sat next to his snoring body on the divan and reached to touch him just as he awakened.

Never Know

Front desk clerks are sometimes useless, but you never know.

This past weekend I was in Los Angeles.  Everyone knows that my favorite city in the world is Chicago.  Though I do have other favorite American cities.  But none of them include the great urban centers of NYC and Los Angeles.

NYC simply thinks that it is the center of the universe, and Los Angeles, well, lets just say I'm still questioning whether LA is a city or whether it is just an amalgamation of a whole bunch of towns like Beverly Hills, West Hollywood, and Englewood (sp?) fused together.

It's hard to get around LA.  Which is one of the reasons why I didn't find it that easy to meet black men in LA's men-for-men pool.

Ty Lattimore Speaks?

Surprise.  A little controversy is stirring on this blog.

Recently, I have been writing about the stupidity of having bareback sex with people you don't know. I discussed the lack of responsibility that black pornographers (like Ty Lattimore) display when they produce bareback sex videos in 2006, when the rate of HIV is disproportionately affecting African-Americans.

I received the following letter from black pornstar Ty Lattimore:

I Like Big

Why is it that when I first saw this picture my mouth watered?  Instead of going Oh my God! and crossing my legs, the first thing I thought was, How can I meet this guy?

Saving All My Love

I miss the old ice cream trucks, and the ice cream man

I admit it.  I love Whitney Houston.  Sure sometimes she acts likes she's on drugs.  Sometimes she's rude and inconsiderate.  Othertimes she's been known to act like a diva and simply act in an unforgivable manner.

But I love Whitney despite her bad moments.  Because there are few people who have a voice like hers.  And there are few people who would (or could) sing some of the insane lyrics that she sings, and make them sound like art.  My Name is not Susan, and It's Not rRght (But It's OK) are just two examples.

But probably one of her best examples of a song that sounds so beautiful and sings like an ode to true love is really just an insane hoe's cry of obsession--Saving All My Love.

I ♥ Barebacking

If you didn't know before, let the truth be told:

The best sex in the world doesn't include latex.

Entourage

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This past weekend I bumped into a celebrity.

A Crash on Brokeback Mountain

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Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger in Brokeback Mountain

I predicted it. 

Every year, at every Academy Awards ceremony there is an upset.  There is always an upset.  There has to be some sort of drama.  Usually, its in the Best Supporting category, like the year when Jack Palance won for City Slickers, or when my girl Marisa Tomei (I loved her on the first season of A Different World) won Best Supporting Actress. 

But wasn't the real upset in 1997, when Juliette Binoche (The English Patient) beat out the incomparable Lauren Bacall (who unfortunately butchered her lines last night during her presentation, bless her heart) for best supporting actress?

No, actually it might have been in 2003, when Halle Berry (Monter's Ball) beat out Nicole Kidman for her tour de force performance in Moulin Rouge.  I hear that Nicole was really pissed about that one.

But last night the upset came in the Best Picture category.  Crash, the ensemble film on America's fucked up race relations set in Los Angeles, beat out Brokeback Mountain--the story of the unrealized love between two American shepherds (contrary to popular belief, Jake and Heath didn't play cowboys).

Bitch Shit

 

I really cannot stand bitch shit. 

A few years ago, I was applying to work on a project at the company that I already worked with.  The project manager was excited to have me on board, but said, I am impressed with your work, but I heard that you checked out and didn't complete a project.  What can you do to assure me that you won't do that if you come work for me?

I was puzzled.  What was he talking about?  What project didn't I ever complete?

When my integrity is questioned I take it personally.  I told her that I had never not completed a project at my job, and then I asked her, If you could tell me what project you're referring to, or who told you this, I would be more than happy to address your concerns specifically.

She answered, That's not so important.  I don't want to get into any names.

It clicked to me.  I knew who gave her the information.  It was a friend of hers who told her the information.  Someone at the job who didn't care for me.  So I put the project manager on blast, I know exactly who told you this.  It was Layla.  Let me assure you that I didn't ditch the previous project.  The company decided to not to pursue it because one of the chief directors thought that it wasn't a worthy time investment and that I should work on other projects.  If you don't believe me, ask the director.

She looked stupid. I don't know if she ever confirmed my version of the events, but I was hired to work on the project.