I’m really curious - how many of you hate music in porn as much as I do? In the early days it was pretty fucking bad, I grant you - thumping disco or actual songs played, often chosen to provide…uh…ironic counterpoint to the action. That’s done with, thank God, but the music plays on.

It sucks. It’s unnatural and hurts the sex. C’mon, now. When you fuck and suck, do you make sure to have a soundtrack going in the background? When you hook up in a gas station bathroom, do you stop to ask the attendant to pump in a few tunes? I didn’t think so. Be it the ’70’s or today, all I want to hear when I watch porn is the raw, ordinary, natural sounds of grunting and heavy breathing. Music to my ears.

- Jack X, who likes dirty talking too

by Enrique Cruz

‘remembering my Bone Structure entry over at the GaySexReport.com that talked ’bout the: “vag without the penis” and today we’re playing connect the dots tying the dick move of the day to Raz B (a former music artist) — ‘claim on his myspace page: “I am not a Gay Male.” –I didn’t think anybody cared who Raz was fucking.

Reminds me of my previous entry on here: “st8 call: no homo” — ‘apparently the reverse is true: Gay Men in mall use the “st8 call” to hide any sense of Gayness…in other words, “No fag moves when you’re in the Mall…’keep it in your pants…and just hug it out, I mean just go for a homeboy hug….you’ll see what I mean, here’s my short clip….Roll tape:

your comments, e-mails, and feedback are always welcome on here (even if you’re Gay)!

One of the great things about being middle-aged is you can look back and see how gay porn has evolved. And it has, big time, if only in volume. Back in the day - and I was in NYC, too - there was just a handful of films and even fewer producers. There were droopy mustaches, lanky bodies, huge cocks and a lot of pubic hair. There were stars too, and these rare men were, to my mind, sexy as fuck. Jack Wrangler. Roger. Lee Ryder. Bruno. I suppose it was the repression of the times and in my life but no porn ever got to me like that since.

Then it all got…sleeker. Different companies had different styles, from the muscle bottom dudes at Falcon to the endlessly cumming beauty boys at Bjorn. Then, side by side with the Net, the ‘amateur’ stuff became hot shit. I can’t even list today all the producers who specialize in seducing supposedly straight dudes on camera. I will, however, give them credit for having the balls to still hang onto the myth that the jock with his tongue in his buddy’s asshole never had sex with a guy before. When bullshit is that huge, you’ve got to admire it.

So, what’s happened within gay porn work? What are the real changes we see when we pop in the DVD and unzip? Stay tuned.

- Jack X

Gotta check out the show EC talks about. Meantime, though, I back-pedal: I’m no TV junkie and, lame as it sounds, I get a kick out of some reality shows because I find that ‘natural’ bullshit fascinating. I tend to think it’s an offshoot of the camcorder generation - all those kids grew up being videoed by mom and dad, so there’s this element of ‘reality’ programming practically built into them. They learned early how to both seem to go about their business while simultaneously performing.

If anything, I’m a commercial junkie. They’re like Italian restaurants; when they’re good, they’re very good. When they’re bad, they suck beyond measure. Current favorite is for (I think) that gum that begins with an ‘E’. You know, when they pop it into their mouths, funky music plays, and the chewer gets down wherever he happens to be. In this brilliant one, the young dude is in line for airport security checkpoint. Puts gum in mouth. Music plays. And, in a spin on how you have to take so much off before going through the detector, he does a wild striptease. Now, that’s good advertising.

- Jack X, who likes rimming too

by Enrique Cruz

‘had a weird conversation earlier today on the lack of Gay Programming on TV…unlike “Jack X,” I can’t watch reality television – it always seems as if the reality folks are just playing to five cameras following them around – so, doesn’t it seem an oxymoron to claim you’re gonna get any sense of reality. I do like quirky comedies on cable…

Hands down, ‘Best show on TV, is a IFC show you’ve never heard of:  “The Minor Accomplishments of Jackie Woodman” — think “Ab Fab if it took place in LA” –if you get IFC, it’s worth checking out:

as always, drop me some of your own comments, e-mails!

When you shoot porn, everything becomes either tense as shit or funny. I mean, even the standard words to film a scene take on new meaning: ‘action’. ‘Cut’. And it’s hard not to crack jokes when you’re bare-assed with several other bare-assed guys, waiting till the director has his lighting and angles down.

The worst shoot for me, back in the ’90’s, was supposed to be the easiest. Hell, I wasn’t even fucking; the director just wanted to use my house. Cool. Easy money, and I’d get to see a few studs going at it in the bargain.

Uh…no. It was a nightmare. He was filming with eight studs, all of whom trooped into my house nearly nude, spent hour upon hour sucking and fucking, and made enough grunting and shouting noise for about a dozen Mardi Gras’. OK, you say. So, what was the problem? My landlady. Who lived in the house in front of me and chose that ONE FUCKING DAY to do what she never did: bring stuff into the garage adjoining my house, for storage. Talk about a movie within a movie…

- Jack X, retired

by Enrique Cruz

Before the camera’s role there are always a few butterflies…or let’s call it some “nervous tension” that needs releasing…Over the past 10 years, I’ve seen it come in different forms (depends on the personality); ’comes with the territory. I imagine if I had to strip down and fuck in front of camera’s and strangers…you’d need a small army of people to gently talk me off the ledge…(’cause I’m shy like that)…um, ‘roll tape:

** this week, we take a peek at the world “Behind The Butt“…today, we cover some of the pre-sex stuff that happened — for the new DVD “Doing the Butt #23” :
 

Ah, EC! This last post doubles my certainty that an Enrique reality show would be fantastic. If you got one together that focused on the past days of party promotion….holy shit. The best of two great worlds would be set before a drooling public. People love watching the behind-the-scenes madness of arranging big affairs (again, just watch Bravo if you don’t believe me). Then - well, I’ve spoken before about the public fascination with the porn industry. Shit, I got into porn myself long ago only after reading a huge story about it in the New Yorker. Yes, the New Yorker.

So we keep it moderately clean. We see all the craziness of booking a club, recruiting talent, settling on a theme, even stocking the bar.  Then we see the function, the hotness (cocks blurred a little), the mistakes, the successes. This, my boy, would be one big-ass hit.

- Jack X, who wishes he could get to Lauderdale

by Enrique Cruz

Like “Jack X” — not sleeping much — ’spent the last few days sleeping ’bout four hours each night and talking (until my battery wears out) on the phone…and of course dreaming big things (sorta)…my dreams always involve what I’m reading…so they tend to be weird…..

So, let me get right to it. I do get flashbacks at the nightmares of why I stopped doing Monthly Parties (F.Y.I. — I was a Party Promoter in NY a couple of Years Back)….shit….they are so much fucking work!

‘Case you missed it, we’re doing a little party next Saturday, Aug 25th in Ft. Lauderdale (please come…please, pretty please):

‘much love to the new florida Latino Boys Magazine (who helped in promoting this upcoming event):

It’s funny, the stuff you never forget. Or the guys. Had a dream last night about someone I haven’t seen in 25 years. I didn’t even know him well. I was a waiter at a Florida Denny’s and he was the rent-a-cop for the graveyard shifts.  Very tall. Latino. Sweet, gentle, handsome face and beefy body. We’d joke around, I’d feed him, he’d do his ineffectual job and I’d do mine.

But things don’t go away sometimes because my gut tells me - as I’m sure it did back then, too - that he could’ve been had. Maybe it was that sweetness under all the muscle. Or how good manners in a stud make me think they’ll do just about anything. Or maybe it was just because I sensed that he really liked me.

Aw, hell with it. I mean, 25 years later and I’m still beating off to fantasies of what might’ve been with this guy? Yep, I am.

- Jack X, who didn’t sleep much