FAGGO - THE SECOND CUMMING

Pulished 2000, 300 - 400 (?)copies xerox and offset (couple small printings)

The Power Of Expression - Faggo
Fags - Go Figure - Larry Bob
The Chiffon Bar - Peter Bird
The Difference Between Us - Chris Vanderbrooke
My Heart Jumped.... - Nick
Jim Yousling - Bruce LaBruce
Epiphany - Ted Young-Ing
I Am An Ugly Beast - Ted Young-Ing
You're Ripping Off the Ramones - Jon Ginoli
Straight To Hell - Boyd McDonald - Rebecca Levi
Marx Save The Queens - Tim Murphy
Fags @ The Punk Show - Rufus Poser
Taking The Piss - Faggo
Limp Wrist - Sean Capone
My Father Died - Sascha Vukadinovic
Communicate - Daryl Vocat
I Still Hate Cher - Blain
No More Secrets & No More Lies - Faggo
Arizona Panty Raid - Grant Lawrence
Fags Hate God - Faggo
Hey All You Faggot Haters... - Byron Fast
Reviews - by Faggo & Rufus
Jesse - Dagnir
No Sex In Parks - Mitch Fury

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The Power of Expression - by Faggo

Faggo. Black thumb-nails, green hair, loud music, cute boys and hot men. A place where being punk doesn't just mean what music you listen to, and being queer doesn't just mean who you have sex with. Identity is the priority, the politics follow, respect is key. Speaking the truth, keeping it real and having it honored. Shining light into dark corners and watching it grow. Nothing new has been created, there is no god to receive credit, no dogma to follow, it's been there all along - what you see is evolution, it is the logical next step, it is the freedom to express without limitations.

Within the pages of faggo there is no community to follow, rules to abide or rainbows to wear. Instead, there is the honoring of the 'self' - eighteen of them in fact - and through it, collectively, a more accurate picture is painted. Faggo is fluid and ever changing, it is ungraspable yet it is there. It slips through your fingers and resists your temptation to market it as the 'next big thing'.

Of course, I play the game - focusing the attention on a 'movement' that tastes so great that it cannot go unnoticed - creating a reality that is by definition, already dead and gone by the time you read about it.

Faggos mystique becomes its beauty and its strength - something that everyone can stake claim to without fear of ever being stolen. You are a part of it simply with the desire to want to be. With this empowerment the voices of the individual are heard, through words, images and expressions. Not merely accepted, but encouraged and nurtured. By documenting some of it here, more history is created - reminding ourselves that we should never be undersold. Go on, turn the page - life is waiting.

Kim kinakin 02/20/2000

Props: to the Q.P. Collective, to those who lent me their computers (to make this a reality) and to those who encourage and inspire me to continue - you know who you are.

some of the music (that I remember) that I listened to while putting this all together - not that it matters, just for fun: BL'AST! (of course), Moby, Rufus Wainwright, Jawbox, Dirty Barby, Burning Airlines, Unwound, Sunny Day real Estate, Robbie Williams (shoot me!), Elliot Smith, Promise Ring, Lunchmeat, Mission Impossible, Dag Nasty, The Hated, Superchunk, Sinclair, radio berlin, sinead oconnor, pixies, firehose, gang of four, q-tip, & others i can't remember.

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Fags -go figure - Larry-Bob

I'm jealous of the punk dykes. Reading their slam poetry in pitted out t-shirts, strutting with leather pants and strap-on on-stage, not conflicted about monogamy, un-self-consciously evil. Not eager to become lipstick lesbians but in some cases dirty femme angels. Dangerous in tattooed rage, flamingly butch, machista ballgowns.

And they have community, they have Red Dora's, Sister Spit, K'vetsh, Meow Mix, the Coco Club, drag king Casanovas. Sisterhood is powerful. Brotherhood's just a danger of becoming another boy's club and reinventing the patriarchy. Lesbians have feminism but what do us sissy boys have to be the theory behind our practice?

We have to be shy because otherwise it might mean we're interested and horny and sexual and therefore no different than those men who died because they we're evil.

And we assume if someone's not talking to us that he's not shy, he's stuck-up. But it takes two to not talk.

And so when I go to see the bands, go to see the poetry slams, there's more dykes than boys. Dykes making out or slamming violent in the pit, while the boys stay in their clique or hang out as shy or creepy wallflowers. But there's always more dykes than fags.

That punk dyke scene isn't just a recreation of the straight boy punk scene, it's a re-invention, re-interpretation. Got some new goddesses dug out of the trash bin. The boys don't get it, pan the records without hearing the music. Those boy's punk is Rush Limbaugh with a mohawk. Why even bother if it's no different than what you claim to rebel against?

And given the example of dyke punk subversion, perhaps punk sissy wears a dress instead of forming yet another slam-pit, finding inspiration in a more truly rebellious rebellion.

Maybe, I think, it's just San Francisco, but I go to a radical queer gathering in New York, and once again tons of punk dykes. It's great, great, but where are the fags and what are they doing instead of this kind of fun? Why can't I be a shiny happy disco boy drugged out of my mind, ecstasy to give me ecstasy?

Shouldn't I be happy that the barrier I can't name weeds out the boring ones, weeds out the pretty ones, since I for one don't like pretty boys?

There's that magazine that might be for youth and it might be for dirty old men. It's about big pants and cute boys but the ugly ones and icky girls can just commit suicide. And who knows if the magazine brainwashes the boys or if that's really how boys think. Malls are malls whether they're lined with Gaps or with rainbow flags and bootleg house compilations. Maybe their minds were rotted by Super Sugar Crisp before they ever heard of freedom rings.

Maybe young gay boy thinks that punk means he won't have a money making job and decides to assimilate instead, since gay boy yuppies are visible success stories everywhere, while baby dyke thinks she'll never make it to even the first rung of the corporate ladder with no role models and therefore wears a mohawk. But I have a corporate computer job and still do non-mainstream zine and music stuff, and I know punk computer-savvy dykes who do too.

But I don't even think of myself as punk anymore, if punk just means wearing jackets with band names older than their wearers. What's the difference between that and the wannabe deadheads on Haight Street? What was once about breaking rules is now about following them. I don't like limits, and "because that song isn't punk" is a limit.

Consuming is the same whether it's the Subhumans or Madonna. Giving life meaning is about continuing creation, baked fresh like bread, doing it yourself despite the advertising. And you don't have to wear leather or spikes to do it yourself, you can be square and still do that.

But there's also the danger of boutique hair-dye, guys who look the look but have never created anything. Or have created for the wrong reasons, to be popular, to reinforce their clique, to build a career.

So maybe I like better hanging out at the margins of the punk dyke scene than I would in any potential all-fag scene.

----Larry-bob is the editor of Holy Titclamps and does the websitewww.holytitclamps.com. His writing has appeared in Discontents and the FactsheetFive Zine Reader, as well as various zines.

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THE CHIFFON BAR - by Peter Bird

Why is leather the only fabric with its own bar scene? Why aren't there chiffon bars? Can you imagine a chiffon bar? The staff would be well mannered and manicured. I'm sure they would wear ascots and have blow dried hair. They would probably be friendly and aloof, a nod to good business acumen and self preservation. The bar, as all good bars are, would be narrow, thus affording patrons an opportunity to brush up against one another surreptitiously. The wonderful sound of chiffon touching chiffon. It would be dim and pastel lit, chiffon draped above the windows and along the walls. Show tunes would be de rigeur and high drama would be acted out nightly, not on the stage but on the stools. Wit would figure prominently as the accessory of choice. The seats would be chrome and require that you simply perch. But you wouldn't mind. Your chiffon ensemble would drape perfectly and be shown off to full effect. Who would frequent a chiffon bar? Aging beauty queens would definetly flock to a chiffon bar. Campy twenty-somethings might indulge their curiosity. And denizens of the lounge scene might interpret it as a high concept addition to their nightlife. Beyond this, I can imagine that a select group of gay men would patronize a chiffon bar: Gay men who are comfortable with their sexuality and gender in all its complexity. It would serve as a place to be both smart and feminine, two aspects of gay culture currently out of vogue. It would attract gay men who understand their identity as something other than a market, because Nike doesn't make anything in chiffon. But, the unasked question remains: Would the other type of "gay men" go to a chiffon bar? The popular media's synecdoche for college educated, middle class, Chelsea residing, white, gym-queen, gay men. The answer, most definitely is, no. Gay men frequent a space that reads "feminine?" Not in the nineties. I'm sure the folds of the chiffon would give them vagina dentata nightmares. Or worse, it would remind them of pretty things. Pretty feminine things that they used to like. Feminine things they used to like about themselves, or wish they liked. The things about themselves that drove them to the gym. The things about themselves that made leather bars so popular.
Peter Bird
kingofthefruitflies@yahoo..com

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The Difference Between Us - Chris Vanderbrooke

Back ends of busses lifted up allowing you a full view of the extending cabin front of you. The young gentleman sprays some cologne on, polluting my general area and causing my irritation level to rise. So fragile I am, existing here among the polymers. Catching glance of an attractive female he wanders towards the front of the bus, looking busy, as if he is getting a copy of the bus schedule and then makes his way towards the back of the bus. Stopping as if just suddenly aroused at the female who sits poised, very content and emitting her mating sent., he approaches her asking, "is this seat taken?". "No, but there are plenty others around us that aren't", she responds. The young man replies, "But I would rather sit here and talk to you." So she invites him to sit, and he continues with his charm and wit to win her over. Charismatic and confident, he has her giddy as a school girl in a matter of minutes. Across sits a middle-aged man, with the streaks of time running through his hair and face. He looks happy and content. You can see the creases in his face expand as he takes notice of the newly bound couple embracing in conversation and enjoying each other's energy.

I imagine, however, what the man's reaction might be if one element were different. What if the female being courted was a young man, or both parties were female. Carefully planned, the moves were soft, natural, and well executed. As the same-sex individual approached its prey, how do you think the middle-aged man would respond? He would almost surely wince, be appalled, and/or make a comment under his breath. He might even move to the front of the bus with the rest of the normal people, eh?

These barriers we put between each other in everyday life waste precious time that could easily be spent doing things that progressively make your life and culture stronger. It is these barriers that I fight against everyday. For me, sex is not a public topic, nor is it for most people in my situation. I don't feel compelled to bring my personal life into typical conversation, yet my friends usually rectify that.

I think we are all sexist in one form or another. I see some of my friends who are very comfortable with their sexuality and I wonder what it must be like to not have that fear, that feeling in the back of your throat that leaves you breathless. I can't sit for one moment and think that I'm not Queer, that I'm not different from others. The hardcore scene is in my blood, sweat, and tears. At my most passionate moments, I am in some way relating to the music scene - playing music, listening to music, or reading about my favorite new band. But I find myself at distance, my sexuality putting me at odds with the community and

Through all of this, I'm still amazed at how homo phobic our small knit scenes can be. How shallow minded people of our own aspirations are, and that their pattern of thought is still so very different from my own. My only explanation is that their built in defense mechanisms are firing off responses due to the uncomfortable nature of sex in any topic. I find it odd that most people aren't comfortable talking about sex, even adults in their early 30's like myself. Every response, built around stabs and jabs, especially the young skaters, jocks, and even hardcore kids. We are all so concerned about what our friends think that were to afraid to express ourselves to our fullest potential. This of course isn't the majority vote, but it's how I viewed the scene and the response I have received only confirms these convictions.

To see an article in the Advocate!, a gay and lesbian publication that boasts OUT musicians in the indie-rock world, this was earth shattering!!! It needed to happen really bad. To have Jason Gnewikow from the Promise Ring and Pete Moffett from Burning Airlines in front leading this movement is even better. Two very respectable bands doing what they love & also not afraid to truly express who and what they are.

It's the Gay stereotype that really needs to be crushed more than anything else. All homo's aren't dying to put on pumps and sport a blouse. I personally spend more time making fun of the gay scene than anything else. The few Queer people I have met in the music scene have been so much fun. Most of them control their own corner of the market and stand tall for what they believe in. To me it's all so very inspirational. I think the most important thing is to stand up for yourself. With people like James Morellos from Made In Mexico Records, Chris Takino from UP Records, and Dee from the Milky World Gallery all here in Seattle, it's amazing. You can seethe sense of Queer empowerment and support that is stimulating the economy here. Bands with Gay members like FCS North, Satisfact, Sick Bee's, Behead the Prophet NLSL, Fairgrove (ok, that's my band), Los Crudos, Team Dresch, Kicking Giant, The Vogue, My Bloody Valentine, Hole, etc. That's just a couple because you know there are thousands that aren't even public about it but should be. Giving Queer kids a place to feel comfortable, that's a big thing, just as important as having a place to play an all ages show. We need community centers, for all woks of life, to express them selves completely. When Tim from Jade Tree Records shut down his message board at www.jadetree.com because their was excessive use of homo-phobic comments when the Adovcate! article came out, that is power. That is a big fucking statement, telling kids "What the fuck are you doing, this is not cool, little do you know your probably crushing your best friend who is gay and hasn't come out yet." That was such a giant step for the hardcore community, the kids listen to label owners and really respect their words. There are so many people in the indie/punk scene that need recognition of them selves and to know they aren't alone. It's our difference's that make us strong. It's our difference's that keep us together.

Chris Vandebrookehttp://indyrock.com

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My Heart Jumped... - by Nick

my heart jumped a little when i heard the rain hit my windshield i knew this was the perfect excuse to spend a few more minutes sitting in my car. it was about the fifth excuse i had come up with tonight. a few people came out from the bar and lightly jogged across the street to find their cars and leave. i grabbed some photos to look at as they passed, trying to seem occupied. or maybe in an attempt to avoid being the creepy guy sitting in his car by himself across the street from the gay bar. as they pulled away, i forced myself to turn the car off. i leaned to the back seat to grab my hat and noticed i still had leftover pizza hut in a take out box laying back there. this leaped frantically to be my sixth and final excuse to not go in. after all, if i actually met someone in there, had a decent conversation while screaming over the bass pumping across the dance floor, and decided to go somewhere a little less foolish, how seriously can you take someone who's slightly too lazy to pick up the cardboard box and walk it to the house? at this realization, my slightly too lazy pride dragged me out into the rain and i started to walk. halfway across the street i felt my pants dragging through the puddles and remembered that i didn't wear my nicer ones. nor had i worn a shirt that i could tuck in to show my perfectly rounded belly. i quickly ignored all of these things as i opened the door, trying to seem as confident as possible. the guy checking i.d.'s must have been new, cause i hadn't seen him before, and he seemed a bit hesitant. though he didn't giggle when he saw that i wasn't old enough to drink, which was kind of a relief. he just grabbed the huge red marker and x'd me up. it was more than a little discouraging when i looked up and saw that there was not a single person dancing. not that i would have danced, but usually i can enjoy watching the sass-masters prance around and have fun. sometimes it seems like they're the only ones who do. but on this night, everyone had decided it was "sit as far apart as you can and act mesmerized by the flashy lights night". so i found an empty place toward the back and joined in. this is when i continued my classic list of reasons why i shouldn't be there. the obvious... i will have nothing in common with any of these guys. i assume its something all punk kids feel when they go to these places. i don't drink, not because i'm not old enough, but because i'm a control freak. this might prove to be a problem when attempting to meet someone at a bar. i would have to explain to whomever the lucky man is that i'm a virgin in the extreme sense of the word. of course, this could be a prize... or it could cause problems when i demand that my first time actually be meaningful. i tried to stop thinking so pessimistically and noticed that, as usual, there were a couple guys that kept walking the entire length of the club, back and forth repeatedly. i wonder what actually goes into hooking up with one of these guys. do you get to know their real name? do you get to have any communication before madly groping at each others bodies? when you see them cruising the place again, do you give a little common nod to acknowledge that one night? you would think that these kind of guys would take the situation pretty lightly, since it is quite ridiculous, but more often than not, they look as though they're conducting some sort of business. like there's an entire plan of action involved. these guys at least provided me with a little entertainment tonight. i saw a few people heading for the door, and realized that no one had come in to take their place. the crowds must have found a club playing better madonna remixes. after all, i am lucky enough to live in a city with multiple clubs, bars, and restaurants that are established for the queer community. and yes, i've pretty much used all the same excuses to stop myself from going to any of them as well. i mean, there are so many reasons why i shouldn't go, but then there's the one reason why i do. there's a feeling that i get every time i leave that place, even though i've left alone every single time. its that feeling that lets you know you've tried. that i at least gave that one in a million chance my full attention. well, as much attention as you can give something when you're in an environment with pulsating bass and four disco balls. i put out my third cigarette and got up to leave. i kind of laughed when i was walking past all the guys standing around, staring at the empty dance floor. they were so bored. when i got up to the bar, i saw a couple of big guys sitting there laughing and having a good time. i thought about how funny it would be to go to one of those places and not be looking to meet anyone. to actually go with someone you're already with. this found a smile in me as i walked out the door, looking forward to the night when i can suggest going there just to remember how lucky i am to have someone. the streets were drying, the rain had stopped. when i got to my car, i decided i should probably listen to some metal. maybe put that left over pizza in the front seat. and spend the drive home thinking about the fact that there might be someone out there who did the same thing tonight. someone who i wouldn't have to explain my little quirks to. someone who i might not have to meet at a bar. so the night ended in that hope. and in the familiar waiting. and in faith that the one in a million chance might be coming my way.

Nick smileiiiv@aol.com

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an interview with...Jim Yousling - by Bruce LaBruce

In Touch magazine, or at least its former incarnation in the late eighties and early nineties, was a big inspiration for my homocore fanzine, J.D.s. It was the only gay glossy porn mag that seemed to have any personality, and which provided coverage of a lot of stuff that actually interested me. I started to notice that all the interesting back issues of In Touch that we found in used books stores had one thing in common: an art director named Jim Yousling, who ended up becoming the editor.

When I first started hanging out in Los Angeles in the early nineties, I discovered that some of my new found friends knew Jim Yousling and hung out with him. So one night my friend Mrs. Glass arranged to have me over to Jim's house for a small party. I recall we watched a cult movie called "The Naked Kiss" about a hard-as-nails dame with a black past who comes to a one-horse town and reeks havoc with the locals. I arranged with Jim to do an interview with him for J.D.s before I left town. He picked me up a few nights later and drove me up to a point in the Hollywood Hills looking over the sparkling lights of Tinseltown, where I conducted the interview.

Unfortunately, there never was another issue of J.D.s, so the interview never got published. Sadly, Jim Yousling died three or four years later, of AIDS. I saw him a couple of times after the interview on subsequent visits to L.A. - once when he was organizing weekly performance nights at the Detour, a legendary Silverlake gay bar - and he was always the same: enthusiastic, friendly, and energetic. Thanks to Faggo for finally giving me the opportunity to publish the interview.

Bruce LaBruce
www.brucelabruce.com

BlaB - When did you start with In Touch?
JY - That's a good question, it must have been about 76 or 77... I really don't keep track of that stuff carefully. I was art director. I'd been working for Larry Flynt before that..

BlaB - For Hustler?
JY - No, doing, it's a dead magazine, we were doing a humor magazine called Slam that was supposed to compete with Nation Lampoon it was going to be a really extreme National Lampoon with a lot more sex and violence in it. we did 4 issues of it but it was when Flynt first moved out here from Ohio, moved the whole thing out here. It was a really incredible period , I mean I really worshipped Larry Flynt at the time. Which is just even hard to believe now because, well ever since he got shot he's been a big vegetable, well not a vegetable but it just changed everything but at the time what he was doing was just phenomenal. so we were doing this humor magazine and he was buying out publications left and right and it was a really exciting period. by the time we had just finished the forth issue Larry got shot and that was the end of it. All of a sudden they had this enormous budgetary crisis because of it so I had a choice of either becoming art director of Hustler or, and then I got this offer from In Touch so I was like yeah, give me In Touch

BlaB - Do you know the number of the first issue?
JY - It was 30 something, it used to come out every other month when I started. actually I was contributing to In touch form the very beginning because I had heard about it. In Touch was THE very first gay slick skin magazine, the forerunners were all the Physic Pictorial things but it was the first, it 's actually even older than Playgirl by just a few months

BlaB - And Blue Boy?
JY - Yeah, and all the rest.

BlaB - To what issue did you work on it?
JY - I made it to a hundred and something , I was there as art director for 3 years and editor as 3. I left there in 85 so I must have started in 79

BlaB - Whenever we were looking for material for JD's and stuff we'd run out to used book stores and try to get those In touches and we'd always just open it and look for Jim Yousling, and if his name was inside we'd buy that magazine. My roommate and I, between us I think we have every issue you did in that time.
JY- Well if you can ever figure out what issues you don't have just let me know because I have extras of a few of them. because I finally found all those boxes in the basement. After running into you I finally yanked some of those out of the basement cause I haven't looked at them in a long time. What I enjoyed about it the most was re-reading all the stuff that John Calends had done , the editor when I was art director, cause I sorta remember what I did, but I forgotten that we had done a whole issue on Daddies. He had done this piece called the Daddies Mystique that was just amazing . I guess John is still in New Jersey writing that gay novel, but he was really amazing. He was really the person that brought the fresh air into that magazine cause I was hired as art director under Roger Margason, who had been editing for quite a while and I love roger but thought the magazine was stodgy and really kinda silly. plus I had been working for Flynt doing this insane humor magazine, like the premier issue of this magazine , the lead story in it was called 'Good Sex With Retarded Girls' and it was non-fiction, it was all about sex life of retarded kids and it was totally true. Anyway, I'd been doing this kinda stuff and I went to In Touch sorta saying 'Well I don't know if I can do this with a straight face or not' and then Roger left and John got an interview 'cause he was looking for a job. He'd done a couple things for Flynt which was how I knew him and John was just like a mad queen and I guess still is. so he was the one that just really came in there and just changed everything. and the two of us, I mean I would contribute a lot when he was editing. We just had a great time, and then when he left basically I just became editor in self defense cause it was like 'I don't know who the publisher would hire to replace him'. I was really scared it would go back to the way it was. the publisher let us get away with murder, he was a sweet guy, god bless him, Frank Roedel I LOVE YOU but... All that nonsense that was going on, he couldn't relate to it at all but what was so great about Frank was that he just felt that as long as there was naked men in the middle of it, it didn't matter what the rest of it was. Which is a real genuine publisher attitude. Because of that we got away with all that stuff and that's also why when I left that t reverted back to what it had been before which was just naked men, dirty stories and travel log kinda articles.

BlaB - Did you sort of just gradually start putting in all the more interesting stuff in?
JY - It happened really abruptly, the day that John Calendo started it just happen all of a sudden. Some people wrote in and said 'please cancel my subscription, this is ridiculous' but not many people at all. Almost everything we ever heard was positive. I remember going to A Different Light (ed. - Queer bookstore in West Hollywood) one time and them telling me something about ' there are people who come into this store just to buy In Touch that we never see any other time.' They were like 'who are these people' and it was the punk rockers and a lot of them were straight kids too who were just like 'I heard there was this article on Henry Rollins' or whoever.

BlaB - And you had those two issues that were the Sexiest Men of Rock
JY - Those are funny when you look back on them and go Billy Idol and Sting , ewww, ewwww. Those were actually written by groups of people , I think 4 of us wrote them, and anybody that anybody wanted to contribute I would put in even if it was somebody I hated, I'd say 'we'll all do this collectively'

BlaB - So were those sorta punks bands actively courting you, in terms of getting exposure, like the red Hot Chili Peppers?
JY - Some were, that all just happened because I was such a fan, I wasn't totally a part of it but I was this person who was totally fascinated by it. it was really a guy name John Bryant who wrote some articles for it , he's dead know, his real name is John Shaffer - he chose Bryant because of Anita Bryant just to be offensive. John was who first stared dragging me to the Theoreticals and the Gay Punk Rock scene. Before that I had been going to the Mask and I had seen the Screamers and the Go Go's and all those early punk rock bands. Then I 'fell in love with somebody' that thought all that stuff was horrible. I spent 3 years just fucking him and missed out on a lot of it. Michael Graham, he'd been raised a Jehovah's witness and just really could not understand the negativity of it, you know, the surface negativity of it. So I sorta just dropped out of that scene and literally spent 3 year's in bed with him and then I woke up and wised up. But john was the one that really started getting me to go to the punk shows . I was like, I'm editing a stupid gay skin magazine, so I didn't want to go out there and court them too much either. I always felt slightly apologetic about it even , I mean all publicity is good publicity but I never felt like these people should be kissing my ass because I'm running a photo of them. It was more like, 'Would you mind if I ran a photo of you?'

BlaB - Like the way the porno industry works here?
JY - Yeah. I always felt like I had to apologize for it. because I was mostly dealing with people who never heard of In Touch anyway. That's why people like Henry Rollins and the Chili Peppers where perfect. Also I realized that this magazine was going out to people in the mid west who couldn't possibly know what was happening in the punk rock scene in LA. So people like Henry and the Chili Peppers who were beautiful and took their cloths off were perfect because they let me justify also running pictures of Nina Hagen, Lux Interior , the Dead Kennedy's and whoever else. I was really grateful to those people. But they were courting any publicity they could get , they still do.

BlaB - Didn't they used to run ads in In Touch?
JY - Yeah, the Chili Peppers took and ad once... which I don't know was actually paid for (laughs)..I remember at the time the publisher bitching because the ad got paid for either late or not at all. But what I really loved about those guys like Henry, who was just sorta like, 'well I don't care who wants to suck my dick' ya know. Maybe he cares about who actually sucks his dick but he sure didn't care about who wanted to. And so the people who were the best were the ones who were like 'sure, that's cool'

BlaB - And Flea used to be a hustler
JY - yeah, yeah you hear all those stories. The early punk scene had a lot of homo-eroticism and a lot of people experimenting with it, LOTS of people, sure , yeah. that's what I love about JD's is that the stories in there... seeing all that finally validated. Because, back then, we were sort of guessing at it and we would write pieces about the homo-erotic overtones of the slam pit. But it was too early to say 'Wait a minute', half of these guys are sucking dick, or at least they are going to be really soon if they're not yet , they want to be. And now you can say that because it's the truth and the whole thing is so out in the open now. I don't know if it's out in the open but it has it's own publication at least. ..Tesco Vee was another one I should mention because Tesco Vee was just great. He was one of the most supportive people ever. Did you ever hear that one record were he mentions In Touch?

BlaB - No
JY - It's on that one called Battle of the Super Bikes or something. It's got motorcycles on the front of it. that album, there's a song on there were he mentions In Touch and me. Tesco is a trip because on another one of his records he has this whole thing... he had gone to Michigan State at some point... so this one song starts off with this whole thing about ' Hello, this is the East Lansing Gay counsel' and it's all about the Gay Hot line in East Lansing . I never exactly knew what his trip was. I never even got to meet him. We would call each other and write each other and send each other cards and things, he was just open to anything. He was my other great love in that scene because I love his music plus he had a sense of humor plus he was filthy.

BlaB - Did you know the Nip Drivers then?
JY - No, I still don't know them. There were a lot of bands I didn't know, I mean I saw them but I saw so many bands that it's almost a blur.

BlaB - Because They had explicit gay content, they had a song called Quentin Crisp.
JY - Yeah, I knew of them

BlaB - And the Dicks - didn't you interview Gary Floyd in In Touch?
JY - I didn't but I think John did. I was always shy and hesitant in that whole scene but that doesn't show when you read the magazine. the magazine was all it is.

BlaB - But that's the whole power of doing it because with JD's as well, we started out ..we created the myth that there was this actual Fag scene going on in the punk community
JY- And then it becomes true.

BlaB - Yeah, exactly, and it did. We started out saying it's a whole movement , and it wasn't but then it became one. But that's the sort of impression the In touch created too, it gave this impression that all these punks were fags. The pictures you would always run of 'hot' punk guys that were so homo-erotic
JY - And so many of those guys were gay, the Theoreticals, I should mention Jack Marquette and Jim Mantyne and the guys that created the whole Theoretical scene. They were so exciting to me here, and now, I guess everybody now is waiting to see what's next. But that was really an amazing period because it was this fusion of gay people and straight people and art people and gays and lesbians. I had been living in West Hollywood and that had it's time too in the early 70 when gays needed to say 'this is our town' There was something wonderful about being able to go to the 'gay' supermarket and the 'gay' Laundromat and have everything be gay. But then after a while I just OD'd on that and that was the period of clones and I was just like 'let me out of here' there's got to be something better than this. I miss seeing people who've been to college and don't want to be actors and stuff. Then Jack and Jim and Russell made that whole scene (the Theoreticals) happen and it was really great because you would see blacks and latins and whites and lesbians and gays and straight people all in the same room. They were just there because they liked the music or they liked the performances and that was really an amazing period and I don't know what's next.

BlaB - It seems to have really reverted back to the way it was in a lot of ways with all this separatism between the dykes and fags.
JY - Yeah, it is. I think that had to happen. In LA at least the dykes and fags are together for the first time. More solid than they were then, not that much but they're there at Fuck Club .. the trouble with LA is it's spread out for a million miles so everybody gets to have their own ghetto and that's also what's wonderful about it but you know if you're a fucken bigot you don't ever have to see a black face. In normal cities everyone is thrown-in together and they're all there but here just create your own little community and that's what's also so frustrating about it here. Jeff and Richard with Sit and Spin were the fist ones to really attempt to try and get more women in there, and then with Fuck Club it really hit. I think that's really refreshing here, because you don't see that much and I love the women too. But back in the 70's that was all about 'Gay' and now it's all about 'Queer' - it's so much more exciting. I'm so happy to see that finally happening. I think that's what finally developed from the punk scene and ultimately with after what...10 years now of people hangin' out together ... it's like you said. If you say the scene is there long enough, it finally is.

BlaB - So do you feel like taking over some other porno publication and doing the same thing now? Now that the climate is right?
JY - I actually have this offer dangling over my nose right now but I'm really resisting it. when I left In Touch I really tried hard to start a magazine and I wanted to go one step further and go beyond gay. There was no escaping that I was gay and that what ever I did would be gay, but I also wanted to try to do something nationally that might have a lot of appeal. Sort of like In Touch without the naked men so that it could hit an even broader audience. I shopped it and shopped it and like all the publishers I met where these frightening people with cocaine and guns in their offices and all I met was assholes. So I dropped-out of it because at the time I think I was be too proud to do it at the xerox level and that why I'm so THRILLED that a bunch of other people jumped in there and did it because those are like my dream magazines. I do now think about , I don't know if I ever would, maybe if I was getting back into magazines, that is how I would do it. On a really personal level . Maybe I was being really stupid at the time, I'm glad I held out the way I did but then it didn't happen. so maybe the way to do it is jump back in on a personal level. I really can't tell you how much JD's and Bimbox and Free Latoya Jackson (?) and Sin Brothers and the rest of them, how much they excite me. Because I always love xerox magazines anyway, but to see that whole .... whatever it was I thought I was writing about in In Touch. To finally see that out there as a whole legitimate thing on it's own.

BlaB - I'll have to try to get you some of the earlier issues so you can see what we actually stole from In Touch. More in the earlier ones, and you'd probably think it was funny to see exactly how you influenced us.
JY - I was saying to my roommate before I left the house tonight how really strange it was to be interviewed about what I was doing at In Touch this long after the fact. It's really flattering and really nice and it's also nice to know it did have some impact. One thing about ANY gay publication though is people don't forget. I got my collection of Physique Pictorials and Homo's really care about their past and their culture, what ever it is. You'll find that people never throw their In Touch's away, not just mine but any In Touch, any gay publication. Forgive me for constantly using the word 'gay' it just an old habit. I like 'homo' so much better and lets say a few kind words about Queer Nation , let's DO , shall we?

BlaB - I'm the same way, I've never been comfortable expressing myself in any form of group political activism and I would never go to a Queer Nation meeting because I get really uncomfortable in all that kind of bureaucracy.
JY - I'm really like an anti-political. I'm an extremely political individual but I can't stand political groups, they really bug me and thank-god someone else out there does that work for you. But the thing that so incredibly wonderful about and just refreshing about Queer Nation in particular is that finally there's someone who'd just saying 'we don't care if you like us' just 'Fuck You'

BlaB - It's the attitude
JY - Yeah, Vag (Vaginal Creme Davis) said in one of the Badge interviews (?) he was saying that the difference is that 'Gay' means that you want people to like you (laughs) and 'Queer' means you don't care if they like you or not. And that's the stance I've always felt very deeply and it's so great to see someone say that. It's nice. Also, all this anti-breeder thing that is happening because Homo's always needed a word to strike back with and 'breeder' finally seems to be the one. I always just used the word 'assholes'.....(tape Mic makes a lot of noise and cuts out)

(Side track about Vaginal Creme Davis how cool, artistically and politically, porn industry, Chi-chi LaRue, porn)

JY - One thing I neglected to say earlier was that in the early 70's doing porno was a statement. Taking your cloths off in front of a camera was a political statement and I really admire anybody who did that, I did that myself, I didn't do porno movies but there's naked photos of me floating around. and it was really important to do that because it meant you were risking arrest. you were risking a great deal doing it and that's why In Touch was so politically important because they were the first slick magazine going out there everywhere in the newsstands with guys taking their cloths off. end

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Epiphany - by Ted Young-Ing
I USED TO THINK THAT BEING QUEER MEANT SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO ME, BUT THEN I DISCOVERED THAT ALLIT REALLY MEANS IS THAT I LIKE TO FUCK GUYS.

I used to think that being queer meant something to me. That when i said, "I'm queer!" that said important something about my life. And when others said, "I'm queer too" that meant that I knew something about them. But I've realized that it means nothing.

I thought that we were forging some new sort of identity that ws outside of the typical gay male identity of club+gym+gucci+backroom. But I've realized that I don't need that identity.

It's not that I refuse to accept a label. It's that when I say "I'm queer!", it doesn't mean that you can extrapolate what kind of music I listen to, what kind of clothes I wear, what my politics are from that. All it tells you is that I like to fuck guys.

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I Am An Ugly Beast - Ted Young-Ing

I am an ugly beast that must consume you to make myself whole.

I destroy all that I love. Your beautiful body ravaged.
Your brilliant mind crushed. Your pure, pure soul scarred.
I hurt you so that I don't have to hurt myself

Come to me. my claws are sharp and always drawn.
Is this what you meant by love?

But I need you. I need you. I need you to be the victim.
I need you to play the fool who keeps coming back for more.
I need you to cry the tears that I cannot.

Does it feel good to be needed?

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YOU'RE RIPPING OFF THE RAMONES - Jon Ginoli

I am sick to death of punk. I am SO over punk. Things have been pointing this way for a while, but this was The Year I Broke From Punk. This has been hastened by my new record store job, with punks who work there, shop there, and hang out there.

What gets me down is the large number of people who seem STUCK in punk. It's a look, it's an attitude, it's a style of music, a style not allowed to evolve past certain parameters, or else it's not punk anymore. If the punks of '76 and '77 had been as slavish to the past as the punks of the '90s have been, there would have been no punk explosion. In the beginning punk was an exploration, now it's an end in itself. It's as boring as people who are JUST GAY, who do the things they think gay people do. They have their little gay rainbow flag world. I thought the point was to be gay and still be able to experience the outer world, not just exist in some safe little corner. If being gay, or being punk, are merely ends in themselves, I'm not interested.

Punk has fossilized. Its gatekeeper purists defend it the way folkies did their form when Dylan went electric. The look is as fossilized as the sound. I recall Johnny Rotten saying in 1977 that he thought Pistols look-a-likes were pathetic; they'd put together their own look, without copying anyone, and challenged their audience to do the same. I took that to heart; I've been into punk since it was new without ever "looking punk. " Punk rock is now an nostalgia industry.

People idealize about how music brings people together, but they seldom mention how music can be used to divide people and drive them apart. It's like cultural nationalism, and I'm emigrating. My favorite music this year has come from Fountains of Wayne and Stereolab. To my utter surprise, I'm finding myself liking more music that has keyboards, which I've intentionally avoided for years.

My band was asked to contribute to the Fat Wreck compilation "Short Music For Short People," 101 bands doing songs of 30 seconds or less. We didn't do a song for it, but I've written one since. Maybe we'll record it if they do a second volume, just to piss the other bands off. Or whatever, it's probably not worth doing. I loved the Ramones until 10,000 bands copied them, now I can't listen to them; it's one thing to have influences, it's another to be STUCK, unable to get past them.

YOU'RE RIPPING OFF THE RAMONES
Punk rock gave the old farts / A kick in the ass / But now it's the punks / Whoneed a kick in the pants
Stuck in the past / Following the rules / Like a tribute band / Rejectinganything new
Cause you're all ripping off the Ramones / You make cash ripping off the Ramones/ Bunch of useless clones
Is your band ripping off the Ramones?

Jon Ginoli pansydivision@earthlink.net

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Straight To Hell / Boyd McDonald - essay & drawings by Rebecca Levi

there have been various times in life when I have wanted to be a boy and, more specifically, a fag, and I'm not one biologically or in a full sense psychologically, but the possibility and the action in what I associate with faggotry has awarded me enormous relief and freedom. Case in point: when I was in university, I suffered a summer of fatigue. I had inner ear tests and blood tests and psychic readings and was told time and again that my fatigue was psychological due to the stress of coming out of the closet which I did not accept and since I had to lay in bed all day I did so, in my bedroom in Montreal, masturbating to Pat Califia. It was true at the time I could come merely by concentrating on the word "lesbian" which stood out from all the other printed words on the page. It was true that "lesbian" appeared repeatedly and thus it was true that I jerked off to exhaustion, to the point that the cat would patter in and stand on my chest and lick my face in a gesture that could have been concern or it could have been lust and in any case I tried to ignore that this consensual act fell under Pat Califia's definition of bestiality.

It is true that I got out of bed once or twice that summer because I managed to bring a few girls back into it and fumble around. And it is also true that this "hot girl-on-girl action"this "womyn-loving-womyn" coupling did not provide the fireworks I had been masturbating my clit down into a stump for. There was something else missing that I could not quite finger, an outgrowth of my imagination which was forcibly extracted when I met a girl who threw away my lipstick and fishnets, slapped my face and called me "boy" the first night we fucked, and in a rush of relief, I found I could sink in that role with just a turn of the right pronoun. All the guilt, pain, and anguish I had had in my life as a girl; the cat calls, the stalkings, and yes, the assault, the pleasing of the men that I hated and liked and couldn't fully deal with were sighed away in instant identification with this new character, this little faggot boy of no significant personality except eager to please. Whatever I couldn't or shouldn't or didn't want to take as a girl, I relished as a boy: as a girl I didn't want to be bit, spanked, teased, prodded - as a boy, hell yes, bring it on, punish the boy, what the hell, he's a bit dim and a bit sweet, and has a stronger back and a hungrier ass than my own; the girl needs a break and the rest of me needs a second adolescence.

It's amazing how fast a boy grows into the habits and expectations of a man. I thought I'd be able to maintain it longer - this brief, sexualized childhood - but I wasn't finding other girls that played me that way. I remember the night it happened: alone, tripping in a bar bathroom on St. Laurent, I looked in the mirror and watched my jawline deepen into the cruel arrogance of adult male sexuality. I understood that my boyhood was over. No more playing chicken: I had discovered the sad fact that I now had more experience of a certain kind than most of my partners, so who would buy it? I moved to San Francisco, where I cruised the personals, affecting a stone butch front, "call me sir and don't touch my y-fronts," fucking girls I'd never met after a whisky and a rapid negotiation: predetermined sex acts with lots of latex and my levi's stayed on throughout, getting breakfast in bed, service, the works; I felt like a pig and it seemed to work for both of us. I can't say this role came entirely naturally and when I pulled it off best it was through a grimace and an erasure of humor, too confusing at the time to play both the man and have a functional, seething pussy.

I forgot to mention that what you are now reading was supposed to be about Boyd McDonald, not about me, but in trying to come up with an explanation for why a dyke would be writing about the editor of "The Manhattan Review of Cocksucking" I have exceeded my word count and obscured the man who both hid and imposed himself on the saddle stitched pages of his seminal magazine "Straight to Hell," a.k.a "The American Journal of Dick Licking," a.k.a. "the New York Review of Unnatural Acts," which I discovered anthologized, cruising for gay porn on the shelves of the Valencia Community Thrift Store, desperate for it since the potency of the word "lesbian" had long played itself out in my masturbatory efforts.

"Straight to Hell" was what we would now call a zine, collecting real tales of homosexual experiences, and Boyd McDonald saw it as an historical document, not pornography, even as the participants face fucked and buggered and ate shit and pissed on and gang banged and fisted their way to immortality on these pages. I've only seen one portrait of him, crater faced and emphysemic, smoking on the roof top of what I imagine is another one in a string of furnished apartments, where he sat, smoking and reading, smoking and writing, smoking and pontificating, alternately limp and hard, editing the rhythm just so: another synonym for cock, please, another synonym is needed, is needed to describe the plot lines of sexual encounters both numbingly repetitious and infinite in their variation.

I've long admired these anthologies - even as I've winced at McDonald's ridicule of the victims of child molestation, incest, and assault - which not one foreword or review I've read has mentioned or criticized; for what man, woman, or child could resist a fine piece of manhood? I've admired these anthologies, even while I've questioned why the conquest of the "straight" man seems to be the most valued currency in their pages. I've admired them, as I've searched for and found no female equivalents - no dykes guzzling pussy through some enormous glory hole in an interstate bathroom, or servicing cunt on their knees in the rambles of Central Park.

I've drawn these pictures based on photos from the pages of the anthologies "Meat" and "Raunch," trying to have faith that I've represented anatomically correct cock, now that I've imposed my sexuality on the readership of Faggo, and trying to reconcile myself to the fact that my sexuality is shifting again; some inner, closeted femme is demanding to make a comeback, and in payment for all the times when her pussy hypothetically could have been getting all sorts of action, who knows what kind of payback she's going to demand? In fact, she's the one that questioned why I was drawing men for men's sake, and insisted that I include one picture of the female anatomy - be it silly or frivolous or unwanted in this context - so here it is, I pulled down my pants and did it just for you: it's small and abstract and it's not everything I want it to be but it's important to me that it's here.

reblev@ziplink.net
http://www.queerbedrooms.com

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Marx save the queens - Tim Murphy

I was twenty when I met my first drag queen. To my eternal shame, it was at a Hallowe'en party, so I assumed it was a costume and responded in a campy, teasing manner. However, by my recollection, and that of the personage in question, with whom I still hang, I was playful, not mean, and acted in accord with my politics and theories, such as they were at the time.

Since I haven't done too well on the imagined/real response axis on topics like suicide, family deaths and relationships, I'm glad to be consistent and/or dogmatic about SOMETHING.

Some of my admiration and respect for queens may come from envy, oddly enough. While I believe anyone should be able to dress and act as s/he wishes, even drag is subject to the law of diminishing returns. In short, it is not for nothing that I once attended a trannie show as Gertrude Stein, since I cannot pull off 'femme' to save my life. I have no inner diva, unless you count Nico or Patti Smith. My wrists seem incapable of limpness, and I walk like a bull-dyke in a china shop. It is my lifelong curse to come off as butch *sob*. The irony is that I'm quite bookish and am afflicted by a frame large beyond my actual superpowers, and it gives me a chuckle to be told I could 'pass' (as human? If only...).

But I also learned history, so I know that my right to be a 'manly fag' was earned for me by drag queens at Stonewall in 1969. The organizers of Stonewall 1994, or of the Montreal Pride Parade a few years later, should have been reminded of this, given their efforts to exclude queens and portray the current gay movement of white, middle-class, married fags as some eternal, ideal state (a group way more likely to be worried about breaking an exquisitely buffed nail than the average queen I know...). Of course, that's all part of the growing gentrification of people who believe in reforming the system rather than overthrowing it...they start to think that looking like the enemy will endear themselves to him. Actually, it makes it a little more likely that the movement will splinter even more, and wrapping yourself in a wolf stole in the middle of the pack isn't going to fool even the most dim-witted running dog for long; it will, however, prevent your real allies from recognizing, or even getting to, you.

Even though I probably look more like him, both to myself and to others, Andrew Sullivan has nothing to say to me, or, at least, nothing I will take to heart. The likes of Joan Jett Blakk and Dr. Vaginal Creme Davis are my heroines, because they dare to be who they WANT to be. No-one is going to read them as women...but, then, in my idealistic estimation, no-one should be read as his or her gender...at least not in some exclusive way that assigns roles and limitations based on pre-conceptions and convenient, divide-and-rule regulations. If I want to be nellie, I'll do it in this body and with my clothes, thank you very much - that's what I always get from queens. I mean, at Stonewall, queens ripped up fire hydrants and smacked cops - now, would the kind of 'lady' these police have in mind do that? (Perhaps they should...but we're dealing with an inner image, not a reality here).

The person who runs the gay phone line in Prince Edward Island is/was a drag queen, and I always figured it takes real clit to be a drag queen in Charlottetown - and, having briefly met him once, he would not 'pass' either...

As to the queen I met that fateful pagan night, she was the first person I met who knew about the Runaways and the Dead Kennedys and had their records in her collection (she had one or two cliched records a la Diana Ross or Donna Summer, but so do I...(Ross, not Summer)) - and it was thanks to the likes of her that I kept an eye out for queer punk stuff, and stumbled across a tiny item in the organ-of-queer-respectability XTRA about Pansy Division, which started me down the road of uniting my punk leanings with my sexuality. And, of course, Jayne County, who I wish I'd known about when I was younger, taught me that you can be crude as hell and still brilliant (I used to be such a prude) and that microphones can make a good weapon in the right hands (on so many levels).

From queens, I've learned to be a more self-respecting and confident person, and learned to stop looking for approval from straights and gays alike (I mean, some approval and support is nice - I wouldn't deny that - but I won't die if Mr. Corporate Cocksucker doesn't like me...I'm not too fond of him either). If you don't love you - who will?

So remember - the Queen in England is an agent of evil - but the Queen in your neighbourhood might be a goddess, and teach you how to do the fire-hydrant swing that could save your life or start the revolution.

Tim Murphy noise_queen@hotmail.com P.O. Box 28010 Bagot P.O. Kingston, Ontario K7L 1A0 CANADA http://www.geocities.com/noisequeenzine/

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Fag @ The Punk Show - by Rufus Poser

Recently at Vancouver's Rock For Choice I had the opportunity to sound out people about their feelings towards punk. I was surprised by people who still identify as punk who seem to do nothing but bitch about how it was so much better in the old days. Doesn't matter if they identified their era as 1970's, 1980's or early 1990's. Somehow it was just better "back then".

I'm in nostalgia recovery and work very hard at staying in the here and now. But whenever I feel the need to experience the good ol' days I skip the local two dollar hardcore night and head directly into the middle of a rave scene.

Looking around at the kids dancing in their colourful homemade costumes, running around in a crazed, drug induced, amorous frenzy, usually conjures up for me the feelings I used to get going to my first punk shows. Maybe it's how everyone seems to be having fun and are excited by their scene? Maybe it's because these kids are just like the kids who used to crowd the punk shows twenty years ago.

Punk isn't a place, a style. It's the whole friggin' landscape, it's the smirk on your face, it's community and justice, it's fucking with the norms, it's knowing that the best fun you can have is the fun you create.

Luckily Vancouver's punk scene is constantly reinventing itself. There's always folks wiling to perform, put on shows, put out tapes, zines, radio shows, videos... Even if it is just for their friends amusement or to get free stuff. A vibrant scene is one where people go out to entertain rather than be entertained. Now that's punk.

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Taking The Piss - by Faggo

Jeff and I always had great sex. In fact, it was the one thing we agreed on the most - from the first night we met and onwards - sex marathons just made sense. I loved intense sex and so did he - we wrestled across beds, over floors and even onto chairs. Clothes were wrecklessly abandoned and disregarded while we stradled each moment at full speed. This was the regular, this was the norm, all of this made for amazing, intense and exceptional fucking.

He was half a foot taller than me and really lean, washboard abs and naturaly built built pecs. His strong build was a challenge for me, a challenge that turned me on. We had an almost traditional brother-like relationship - wrestling, taunting and teasing - except of course, for us, it always turned into sex. And in these brother-like battles to conquer over one another it wasn't just a battle of the brawn, it was more often that not, a battle of the brains. The surprise of the wild-card and the beauty of the wit always had their play.

I remember one time after a fantastic work-out of 'pin the tail with your donkey', we were catching our breath and enjoying the euphoric post-sex after-glow. If life were a movie this would have been in Black & White and we would have definately been sharing a cigarette.

Being as calm as we were, I wanted to take advantage of this brief period where Jeff's cock wasn't hard and throbbing. The feeling of a limp cock in my mouth seemed like such a rare and delicate treat, a precious moment that normally lasts only a few brief seconds if I'm lucky at all. I knew that during this post-sex recouperation, Jeff's penis would remain flacid for at least 10 minutes . I decided to indulge sucking his softness while I could. My window of opportunity had come and I grasped it, the only thing was, he was also very sensitive during this time. Quite ticklish to be percise.

"You better stop" Jeff said
"Why?" I mumbled with his dick in my mouth
"I think I have to pee"

I shrugged my shoulders pretending not to care and continued my sucking, purposely running my tongue around and around the head of his cock.

"I'm serious" he insisted "That tickles!"

I continued to ignore him like the brat I am, still sucking on his cock like it was a pacifier. Enjoying it's softness and knowing full well that it was pure torture on his end.

"OK, that's it" he said matter-of-factly "let me go - I'm gonna go to the washroom" as he tried to move closer to the edge of the bed to make his way to the toilet. Somehow, I managed a firm suction-like grip on his dick while he moneuvered his feet onto the floor, facing me and the mattress as I layed on the bed with my head at the edge still fervently attached to him.

I had given-up on tickling with my tongue because I knew there was only so much that he could take but I maintained my tight lip-lock. We were in his bedroom for christ-sake, he wasn't going to let even the possibility of peeing in his room happen. Quite frankly, I didn't like the idea either, or the thought of having to clean-up piss soaked sheets or anything of the like. I just wanted to be a brat and I figured I still had another minute of doing so before letting him go.

"And what would you do if I did?" Jeff said daringly, standing with his feet apart, hands on his hips and my head between his legs. He had a look on his face that almost said 'What am I going to do with you?' as he shook his head. My eyes just playfully blinked doe-like, all innocent and coy. I'm never one to give up quickly on a dare, and this was no exception.

"OK then, I'm gonna pee" Jeff jokingly responded with an "I told you so" tone.

I just nodded my head slightly to communicate an "oh really?" cocky sarcastic responce. Which may not have been so clearly recieved. Side note: Sarcasm is not clearly understood when you have a penis in your mouth!

Jeff closed his eyes and took a deep breath and I completely believed that he was just playing along. I was expecting him to open his eyes and just say the magic word "PLEASE, may I go to the washroom?" because most of the time that's all I'm demanding - a simple gesture of permission, a note of control. But instead I was treated to a shoockingly salty and warm liquid across my tongue and through-out my mouth. My cheeks quickly filled-up and my eyes buldged in a way to communicate "STOP OR ELSE PISS IS GOING TO GO EVERYWHERE. I AM NOT ENJOYING THIS AND THIS IS NO LONGER FUNNY!!!"

Of course he understood this facial gesture but it took a second from the moment his brain translated it to the actual time when his bladder recieved the message and responded. Somehow, with only seconds to spare, we were saved from a golden experience of Old Faithful.

Needless to say, this was not going the way I had planned. Here I was with a mouthful of pee testing my ability to truly stretch my cheeks like a squirrel while a man stood above me realizing that he had just given me a taste of my own medicine (excuse the pun). The smile on his face was beamming from ear to ear. Meanwhile I struggled to manouver myself around and upright without spilling any piss in a desperate attempt to dispose of it into the toilet as quickly as possible.

"You didn't think I would do it, did ya?' Jeff hackled, "and boy did I show You, Mr. I-DON'T-CARE-IF-YOU-HAVE-TO-PEE! I bet you're wishing you had let me go when I first asked? Huh? Dontcha?....."

Now, I don't know what it was exactly that he said, but someting triggered me. Someting that said "He is going to bug you about this for the rest of your life and there's nothing you can do about it. Here you are with a mouthfull of piss and he knows it."

Then...all of a sudden, a light-bulb in my brain went 'blink' I managed myself upright and I got my feet over the edge of the bed, stood upright and then moved towards the door leading to the bathroom. Before exiting, I stopped, turned around and stepped closer to Jeff with a gesture that I just might spray my mouthful all over in his face.

But instead I said, "Betcha didn't think I'd swallow." And I think that's when I truly learned that in a battle of the witts, you can always win.

If you really want to.

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SWEATER WITH NIPPLES - the Limpwrist interview with Martin - by Sean Capone

How did Limpwrist come about?
I was talking with the guitarist Mark, he had recently come out and been in some previous bands--the topic of homocore came up, and we were wondering...there's lots of homo bands but where was the core? We thought it was a good idea to start a full on hardcore punk band that was all gay--and since we were both straightedge we figured just push it really far, and do a full on hardcore straightedge band. Then we were trying to think of who else could be in it, and we thought of Andrew from Kill The Man Who Questions, who I knew was also gay. There was the issue of the drummer--I thought I would have to drum as well but we found a kid in Philly who heard about the project and he was really into it, he really wanted to be a part of it.

Comparing this to the work you did in Los Crudos, it seems the lyrics are much more blunt and campy, as well as less political and more scene-oriented. Why the shift?
In Crudos we addressed a lot of things but this was the one part of my life that was lacking. I love music, I love Crudos and people were probably expecting something more like that, but there was this whole other side of me and I'm sure that it was kind of a shock to most people. The lyrics are very scene oriented, but our target is the scene, since we are so involved in it, and I think it's something that's needed. After so many years of the hardcore scene being dominated by a sexuality that refuses to acknowledge itself, we needed to finally reclaim some of it for ourselves. It is really loud, and aggressive, and speaks to the scene, so much that someone coming in from [the gay scene] would not be able to come in and appreciate it, no. It's us trying to have a voice, to be clever and approach the situation creatively, but as far as larger issues go, it is a new project and over time we hope to incorporate elements and address other areas. But mainly, it's always about being out, loud, being vocal and putting forth what I think is important, whatever it is about myself--my out-ness, my latino-ness, I'm not gonna sit around and worry about someone else doing it for me.

What motivated you to come out so publicly, on stage before an audience when you were in Crudos?
I think it's unhealthy to close yourself up. My goal is to be sexually open, and not to offend anyone but to deal openly with my sexuality, and it's because those issues are so closed in the scene I think that's why a lot of people drop out, frankly. In the scene where sex talk is criminalized and the feelings are policed and repressed, they try to maintain unrealistic expectations and you get to the point where you need to explore those feelings, especially when you're young. I'm all about positive sexuality and expressing a positive viewpoint about being gay and out. I'm not up here saying 'we're queer, we're lonely, we're oppressed bla bla bla', you know, fuck that. I wanna have fun, I want to have sex, let's be creative about it and open up a little. Sex is not a negative thing, but in the scene it's seen to be. I think that's why a lot of people leave it, we shouldn't be compartmentalizing all the parts of your life--this is my punk side, this is my sexual side, etc. The scene should be an open space where people of all types should feel welcome to explore their feelings regardless of who they are or what they look like. The punk scene is not set up to emulate the beauty standards of popular culture. Even if you're not gay, for example, a big, hairy straight boy might hear me say the things I'm saying and start to feel good about himself, despite how good he thinks he looks or what others think of him. We're trying to embrace that, so that maybe many non-gays appreciate what we're doing.

So do you think that a sexual agenda might be alienating to people who aren't used to thinking about it? Is the punk scene ready for the sexcore movement?
I think hardcore has had a sexual agenda all along--it tries so hard to appear asexual but it's really a very heterosexually dominant scene. We're not involved in the homocore scene fully, well we are in certain ways, but we're really more involved in the larger dominant hardcore scene. I think queer people in punk have been alienated for years now, so am I worried about alienating the rest of them? I don't know.

Although you call yourselves a straightedge band, the musical style doesn't really reference what one thinks of as the SxEx sound--youth crew, mosh parts, buildups, etc. Your sound is more chaotic and noisy and punkish, don't you think?
We're not really into the latter-day straightedge sound, we don't really like metal... we're going for an early hardcore sound, like old school Boston, East Coast stuff...that's the SxEx I've always related to more, back when at shows it was everybody under one roof, not a sub-scene within a scene that's only for the kids that are really into it. No one's really doing the old-old-school stuff these days, from that period. Nowadays 'old-school' to kids means like 92-93. But as far as referencing that sound in our music, the live show is really noisy, but you'll hear it more on the recording, the sing-alongs and stuff like that. And parodies of that sound are OK. We should write a song called xGirth Crisisx. (laughs) That's great, I just thought of that!

What about Mouthpiece, that's a great name. Or Better Than a Thousand Blow Jobs, or Ten Inch Fight...part of the old-school revival that's been going one...
(laughs) Actually I really like those bands like Ten Yard Fight and Better Than a 1000, they're doing that sound really well. I'm anti a lot of the current SxEx stuff but I'm not anti-SxEx. Straightedge caters to this intense male bonding and as for us, it's like OK, we'll play along with your brotherhood thing! We're all about it like you can't believe. This macho scene that exists is overtly homoerotic, and we can find comfort within that scene that might seem uninviting because of its over-the-top macho flexing.

Why the name Limpwrist? What's the significance of the stereotype?
At first we came up with these absolutely horrible names; Mark wanted the name 'Crushskull.' We were talking on the phone and he came up with this name 'Crushskull.' Instantly I was like 'Let's call it Limpwrist.' C'mon listen to it, it sounds way hardcore. Say it fast, it sounds like a crazy straightedge hardcore name with all the other meanings attached to it. It clashes with everything you associate with hardcore; the majority of the scene is so hetero and macho it seemed perfect to call the band Limpwrist. The intention was that the band was not being subtle.

I always thought the perfect gay straightedge name for a band would be 'Stonewall.' That sounds totally hardcore.
Stonewall, exactly.

Overall the punk scene does not have many gays and lesbians in it. Do you think the community is unwelcoming, or that young gay people are unaware of it in lieu of the mainstream gay community?
Hmm. Young gay people...think about them, where they're coming from. For example, XY magazine is fairly new. It's a magazine about the lifestyle of being an out young gay person and probably, like, everyone in the country is getting it and reading it. That's just amazing, I love that--the idea of young gay people being visible is a new idea. Punk has an element of unattractiveness to it, and with young people coming out and coming to terms with their sexuality and needing to belong to something that's inviting, I don't think that they'd really want to jump right into the punk scene to feel welcomed and belonging. The idea of rejection or nonconformity to society is not appealing to a young gay person who's coming out and doesn't need to feel that sense of alienation. But in the 70s the punk scene was loaded with gays and androgyne...it was actually like the 'thing', it was common. The 80s did a real number on the gay presence in punk...

With the emergence of hardcore and death of style and humour...
And homocore stuff was so hard to find, even if you were gay there was no outlet for this stuff. I remember hearing about Bruce La Bruce and JD's and stuff like that but you couldn't find it anywhere. You're talking about a sub-culture, openly gay, and punk, burying yourself to where its unrecognizable. Plus, an early issue I had with Homocore was that they did no all-ages shows, they were all 21 and up so that cut a lot of potential people, young people, off. But it's gotten better now I guess.

I've come to the conclusion that there's something fundamentally about the scene that is repellent to most young gays. I used to think, OK, there's just not a 'safe space' for them here, but you create one, and it's just like, 'Where the hell is everyone?' How many queers do you think or know were at the show? Why were they so reluctant to shout it out when you asked who there was queer?
I know....(thinks for a minute)...I know for a fact fifteen at least. Really loosely--starting at fifteen, not counting the people who claim to be bisexual.

(insert eyes rolling upward here) I don't understand why they wouldn't shout it out, if there was anytime they safely could have it was there. People don't like to be singled out, they're shy. You don't know their position, like who else might be there that they'd rather didn't know about them.
Limpwrist is just gonna be out there--we're gonna be there for those people that can't be as vocal but I'm gonna be as out there as I can for them.

Why do you think the Homocore movement never exploded the same way, for example, that riot grrl or pop punk did?
Well, homocore's been a part of the Chicago scene for a long time now but...I don't think it was gritty enough, or punk enough. Like when you think of homocore, you think of like Pansy Division, who's really just not punk enough for me--there's not enough edge to them. They do interesting things like with their record covers and live shows but musically, it's not enough for me. That's what we're trying to do, something more aggressive and edgier type hardcore. We're trying to give this image, everywhere we go, that Limpwrist has a monster crew of gay punks in every city.

What's your opinion on where we stand as gays & lesbians today?
Not in a place I feel too good about. I want to say, why are you trying so hard to be accepted by all these fucking jerks, who've been so horrible to you for so long? The gay community has really softened up so much in trying to prove that we're normal and not freaks. Trying to buy the world's approval. I mean, there are elements that are great and others that don't do it for me at all, or a lot of other people. In the process of normalization a lot of people end up slipping through the cracks in the mainstream. Like drag queens and transgendered people--they are at the forefront of the movement, the fist of the movement. The gay community wants so hard to prove that we're not freaks so they're getting cut out because of the mainstreaming. But it seems that the younger groups that are forming, the younger people are more conscious, they're including that 'T' at the end of the 'GLB' to be more inclusive and effective making sure that people don't slip through the cracks. end.

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My Father Died - by Sascha Vukadinovic

on December 8. that's still really close and trying to shape my thoughts about what happened into a column for this zine was taking me a long time. It's difficult to consider writing a liberating process if your head is full of thousands and thousands thought bits about one of the hardest things to deal with/go through and you almost can't put them together to proper sentences. a more complex or detailed description about this is not possible yet.

My father's smoking-related cancer was diagnosed in early 1998. what followed were almost two years of the most painful and exhausting physical suffering for him. As well as a horrible and heartbreaking time and a lack of strong nerves (or whatever it takes to make you able to deal with the upcoming death of a close family member) for my mother and me. the disease got slowly worse, month by month, but for a more or less long time it seemed like he could actually live with the cancer. even the doctors were surprised by my father's vitality, compared to other people who had gone through the same thing. the only sign that showed that he's ill were his smaller coughing attacks which happened from time to time. but that all changed in summer 99 when his health collapsed and his body started to decline rapidly.

those upcoming weeks have been the biggest mental confrontation ever for me. I just couldn't keep on going with my own life when I saw his life's end ahead... I wasn't able to think anymore, to sleep properly, and got a stress-related skin disease. the only thing that appeared to a certain degree "right" to me was to leave for NYC to see my boyfriend for a short while. for others it probably looked like I was running away from my problems but I was not. I am quite sure that I had collapsed if I had decided not to get out of here. my best friends were pretty supportive and thought it would be best for me to fly over and so I did... and for some days, I felt safe and sane again. I was able to stay for a week - two were planned - but had to return 'cos my father had a serious coughing attack and almost died at home. he was sent to hospital and put on the intensive care unit, which was the definite sign that he was not going to spend his final days at home which I had wished so much. the last weeks of his life were so unbearable. he started to refuse eating soon, and to get intravenous nutrition later. proper conversations with him were impossible. I could see a little smile on his lips occasionally, but the more time passed, he just stopped talking at all. the only thing he wanted to know daily was if I brought him a gun so he could finish his life on his own. that was all he cared about at the end, and he also told me to recommend anyone with a not curable disease to make sure that he/she shall keep a gun ready for the moment the suffering begins.

I was at the hospital for a couple of hours the day he died. he sent me home that afternoon, and when I refused to go he insisted on it. like he knew what's going to happen. hours later I got a phone-call by my mother who told me that she'll pick me up cos the doctors told her that there's not much time left. when she got here she said that my father died during those two minutes she went outside of the room to call me. I knew it was going to happen sooner or later and that I had to prepare myself for this somehow, but seeing my father dead was too much. all the memories from my lifetime came up in a second. stuff like birthdays, our summer vacations in Yugoslavia, my first tries of driving a car, discussions about politics and life, me studying the Cyrillic language, and especially him telling me "you've been a good son" recently. I had a breakdown at the hospital.

my father was Serbian and his will was to be buried in Montenegro. I thought going to his home country and burying him there would be liberating somehow but it really wasn't. everything there just reminded me of him. relatives, houses, people, language, way of living, country. I knew how important it was to him to be buried there since he hated Germany so much, but since I can't go to Yugoslavia regularly it's pretty hard not to be able to take care of his grave and visit it like you ought to. not only that he's not alive anymore and I am already separated from him for ever, now his grave and me are at two different places in Europe, and that makes it way more difficult for me to start canalizing my feelings.

sometimes, when I get home in the evening, I am like "I have to tell him what happened today", and then realizing that I can't tell him anything ever anymore, feels like a punch in the stomach. it also happened more than once that I asked my mother something like, "when are we going to hospital?". the emptiness here is quite suffocating.

and now... my mother and me don't get along and it comes close to overt hate occasionally. Sometimes I just run out of the apartment cos she attacks me in a totally cruel way. I don't wanna listen to shit like: "if your father knew about you being queer he would had hated you completely but I didn't wanna tell him something to made him suffer even more than his tumor", etc etc. I don't even know where she's taking the energy from to even think about fighting. for years, when I was younger, I was the reason why our family was still an actual family cos my parents had a weird relationship and I as their only child was responsible for them not breaking up I guess. later, when I hit puberty and started not to fit in with the proper ideal of what a young boy is meant to be and the first bigger conflicts showed up, it was my father who kept us three together as a calm and caring person. all has gone now. every night I go to sleep with a painful feeling that can barely be described with words, and every morning, after regular nightmares, I am waking up with it.

I have to find out how to live with the fact that my father is dead. how to keep going. I absolutely don't know what to do right now besides letting all my feelings out and getting as much distraction as possible. this is what has helped me a lot recently: my boyfriend Ernesto, dear friends everywhere, Vique Martin's column about her father's death in heartattack#19, valium, novels by Elfriede Jelinek, certain de-stressing herbals, the black heart procession, writing letters, le tigre. if you went through the same or something similar, please write me here:

Sascha Vukadinovic, ernst-reuter-str.13, 71034 Boblingen, Germany; SV228@aol.com

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Communicate. - by Daryl Vocat

I met my boyfriend, David, about a year and a half ago in Toronto's queer pride parade. At the time I was still living in Regina, thousands of miles away. The whole scenario of us finding each other seemed so unlikely that I now question my disbelief in fate. Out of 750 000 people David and I somehow managed to find each other. Then again maybe it isn't so surprising after all, since there weren't a whole lot of naked people marching in the parade other than the handful of us. Despite the distance, we decided that we were too important to each other to not continue things.

Now I'm here in Toronto and we are mostly living together. I moved here directly from living with my parents. Moving to Toronto was a big change for me and along with it came a new family (that being David and his lover Peter.) It's been work, but I don't look back on what's become of us. I am incredibly grateful that David and I managed to cross paths.

The one thing I never expected to come out of this all is the jealousy. On one hand it's of silly, romantic fun, but on the other hand it is shallow and hurtful. I see jealousy as being one of the things I have been taught to hold onto after being raised in a straight society. I think about open relationships and monogamy a lot. I thought I had the answers for myself. I thought I had things figured out, but I don't. While my head often says one thing, my "heart" (or perhaps more specifically, my conditioning) says otherwise. I thought I had learned to get passed the bullshit jealousy that I had been taught. I thought I would be cool with the two of us having sex with other people all the time. I'm not. No matter how much I wish I were comfortable, no matter how much I pretend I am comfortable with us having sex with other people, right now, I am not. It feels like I have admitted defeat.

After much thought on relationships I have come to believe that there are at least two things that are essential for open relationships to work, trust and honesty. I would argue that these two factors are needed in ANY relationship. I never thought I'd get jealous over someone else having sex with David. Most of the time I end up getting jealous not because David has sex with other people, but because it means we aren't having sex with each other. It is a little romantic because it is one of those things that show us how much we are in love with each other.

Generally speaking, I think monogamy goes beyond sex. From the first day I met David I knew we would not have a "monogamous" relationship given the fact that he and Peter have been lovers for over 7 years. Without going on forever about their relationship let me mention one thing, David and Peter do not have sex with each other. But is the defining factor of relationships really who we have sex with? I think monogamy and its definition is kind of an individual thing. Having said all of this, I resent the whole division that seems to be created between what people consider monogamous and polygamous. The bottom line for me is that the people in my life are more important than how I label my sexual or relational patterns.

I thought I had let go of my jealousy, I thought I could handle the two of us having sex with other people. Not that it destroys me or anything, but it doesn't seem to sit well. I still allow myself to be upset when he has sex with other people. I am angered by my reaction to what amounts to nothing. I am angered because jealousy is directly linked to trust. When I feel jealousy I demonstrate my lack of trust in David. It feels like a demonstration that I don't trust him as much as I think I do. It is a demonstration that I am holding back.

The thing that goes through my mind, the voice that I hear, when David and I talk about sex with other people says "but, doesn't being in a relationship mean not having sex with other people?" I get frustrated because I KNOW that is not what relationships are about. The voice I hear is the voice of guilt. I have been taught to feel guilt about sex and that relationships can only ever be between two people. I feel as though I spend an inordinate amount of time humming and hawing about who David and I have sex with besides each other. I look at all of these feelings and even though they may not be fun, they are about learning. I feel glad that I am at least able to identify these feelings. I see this as a process that will help me better discover my own truth.

I have to wonder why people place so much value on monogamy. It seems like monogamy only limits the human experience. Monogamy seems to be linked to heterosexuals and conservatives. My perception, however flawed it may or may not be, is that the same queers that espouse monogamy are the same ones that say, "we are just like every one else." I refuse to be swallowed into the dominant culture and blindly follow what has been taught to me. At a certain point I think it is important for us to throw away everything we think we know and start from the ground up, making our own rules to live by. I am beyond thankful that David and I have each other. I am grateful for all of the experiences we share. I want more life.

Communicate.

safe23@hotmail.com
www.darylvocat.com

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I Still Hate Cher - by Blain

I'm writing this the night/morning after the second day of rock for choice. I'm straying a bit off the topic of the actual night (not to detract from its importance, a woman's right to abortion is fukin obvious). but the second night (can't say about the first, wasn't there) was a completely queer positive event. I asked a friend where everybody there went every other night of the week/month.

I hate house music and I hate Cher. I like rock for choice and it's politics on the dance floor. apparently so do a bunch of others.

i grew up in a small town. not backwoods, country bumpkin small, but compared to my current home of vancouver, small enough. they got a gay bar about a year before i left, which seemed primarily directed toward the middle aged male crowd (with a lack of other venues, others would put up with it for the simple fact it was a queer space). blech.

i find it's not much different in vancouver. queer bars are usually fairly gender segregated, and there's much more for the men than the ladies (though there seems to be more political dykes than fags). and i still hate cher and house music.

and that's why rock for choice was a good night. and that's why i'm writing this. cuz i've been trying to think what to write for faggo and constantly procrastinating (exhibit a: due date was january first and rock for choice was jan 15, hmmm). but tonite reminded of the importance of space and kicked my ass into trying to spit something out. anyhow, thanks to both for the space. both provide a forum or venue for queer punks. we can fight for choice and other things much better when we have space to organize/dance/write/talk in.

so blah blah blah, i still can't finish writing something. too much to say and no words to say it. so i'll just stop now and hopefully be inspired by the rest of the stuff in here for next time. and if there was a moral to the story... start creating space in yer community. it's easy, it starts with a benefit show, a zine, a radio show, posters and paste.... you'll find others quick.

- BLAIN - blain@tao.ca

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No More Secrets & No More Lies - by Faggo

I met John working at a record store when I was 18. Tall, good-looking with a dry biting sense of humor. I was quite surprised when during a lunch break conversation, he shared with me that he was troubled with his current girlfriend and longing for his ex-boyfriend.

He was quite surprised that I, a 'straight' boy, was so cool about him being 'queer' until I confessed that I had fantasies about men.

This was the start of a short but very important relationship that helped me face up to my sexuality that up until then I had kept locked away, far from anyones' suspicions. Far enough away that I believed it didn't even exist. But of course, John could see that it existed - and our conversations increased as he convinced me that 'straight boys don't jerk-off to gay porn.' And I blushed. And I squirmed. And my heart was pounding because I had never shared these thoughts. I had never heard my own voice say these words.

"I'm gay."

I had never met anyone else who shared similar fantasies. I had never met a gay, bisexual or queer man. The only men I met were in the pages of magazines. With their good looks and hard cocks, I fantasized about meeting them but I never did.

Until John.

John liked me. John liked me a lot. And you know, I was really excited when he jerked-off with me over the phone. And when I told him I wouldn't initiate sex but that I would love someone else to - it was true, I fantasized about him initiating it. It was just weird when he invited me to his place, and into his room, and he pulled off my pants and then my underwear. I was so scared and so excited. I wasn't able to 'get-off', but he did, and then I ran to the bathroom splashing cold water on my face. All of a sudden it occurred to me, that it was true - I was gay - and for some reason that wasn't relieving, it was the most scary thing in the world. But what made it weird was the fact that his girlfriend could come home at any second. It was weird because we had a secret. And that secret helped justify the shame that so commonly followed my fantasies about men.

Real men don't think of other men that way - but we did and it was a secret. Real men don't screw-around behind their girlfriend's back. But he did, I helped him, it was our secret. We both lied.

It was weird because after that evening, many attempts by him were made to get in my pants and I started to feel that it wasn't me he wanted to hang-out with - it was my cock. And the secrecy around our 'one-night' ate at me every time his girlfriend came by work to pick him up.

We never had sex again.

I don't know what happened after, but at some point I quit my job. Then so did he. We met up once, months afterwards for dinner - and then ended-up at his apartment, I didn't even think that there was a sexual undertone.!

"So do you want to suck cock?" he asked once the door shut behind us.

"No!" is said, frustrated, let-down and upset.

I just wanted someone to talk to. I wasn't looking for sex. I didn't know anyone else who was gay. I had been holding everything in and just wanted to share it so I wouldn't feel weird. I only knew him and when I think about it now - I think he wanted to keep it that way. I left his apartment and we never talked again.

I left and I was by myself again.

I left and I was back to my own secrets and lies. Back to my only other outlet. Gay magazines that I had bought nervously for 25cents in an old used bookstore on Davie when it was completely empty and no one could see. Models in porn magazines. Good looks and big cocks. Stories on sex and cruising and bathhouses and fucking and sucking. Sometimes jerking-off to the teeny-tiny advertisement pictures for GAY XXX MOVIES in the back pages of my Dad's straight porn magazines.

I really wanted someone to talk to, someone to listen and say that I wasn't weird. I ended up sneaking into the Nu-West Steam Bath when no one was looking - I settled for sex with the first stranger that offered it. I settled for sex because I didn't see any other option. Settled for the sex because I knew nothing else and strangers were better than nothing. Strangers didn't know me, and that was fine because I didn't want anyone I knew to know what I was doing. These strangers were always older men. These strangers would do anything for a young cock like me. I would run out of the bathhouse as soon as I came - or very shortly afterwards. It wasn't until one of these strangers was someone around my age - and we talked. We exchanged numbers. We made plans to go out with some of his friends, to introduce me to the 'out' gay world.

But before we entered the Denman Station I was told to keep it a secret that we had met at a bathhouse.
Another secret - He didn't want his friends to know he went to the baths.
Another lie - We met when my car broke down and he stopped to help 'fix it' - a typical too-good-to-be-true story.
Before I had even a chance to speak to his friends, I learned to be ashamed of my previous gay experiences.
I learned that even in the gay world, some gay things are just not talked about - some things were 'embarassing', some things were 'disgusting' and 'slutty'. There were 'good' fags and 'bad' fags. So much for celebrating diversity! When I eventualy went to the Friday youth drop-in at The Gay and Lesbian Centre (after walking around the block three times!) I quickly realized that I had more experience being a 'slut' than being a 'good-gay-boy'. So I kept my mouth shut in fear of being ostrisized in a world that I had just finally discovered - it seemed so unfair.

Looking back, I see the pattern that has developed with my sexuality. And I don't like it. I wish it was different. I wish it didn't rest on the shoulders of a stranger in a bathhouse, or a park or a washroom. I wish it had started with a friend who showed me the diverse personalities and unashamed celebrations that exists in being 'queer'. A friend who would have taken me to a bathhouse and talked about it, to look at porno mags and laugh about it later, or just sit and listen to punk music with . Someone who would not judge me, tease me or think that I was weird. Someone I could confide in - with no secrets and with no lies.

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Arizona Panty Raid: The Panty Raid's Seth Bogart talks back to Grant Lawrence. - Grant Lawrence (gtwelve@aol.com)

Since this is a magazine that deals with gayness and punkness all at once, I thought to myself that I just gotta have a tell-all talk with one of the gayest, punkest and sexiest kids I've come across: Seth Bogart, singer and guitarist of The Panty Raid. Seth hails from the sun soaked sands of Tucson Arizona, and at the tender age of 19, Seth has already done it all... he's been in several bands, and toured the USA. He runs his own label, Super Eight Records, and temporarily moved to a warehouse in Oakland, California to be with his boyfriend Luis (Pansy Division drummer) and to run his own all ages venue out of his "living-room" for touring bands. Seth's own bands have included the Knock Ups (one album and an appearance on a Rhino Records compilation) and now Panty Raid (one demo cassette, one album,), plus several side projects in various cities. Seth has an infectious and wild singing style that makes his bands unique, a rare trait in the quantity- over-quality world of punk rock. I first met Seth during the summer of 99 on a wayward trip to Disneyland(chronicled in Faggo #1). Back on that weekend he was one surly motherfucker, but we've since become friends and over the past year or so I've had the back-handed pleasure of getting to know this no-holds-barred, devil-may-care punk in the truest sense of the word. Below is a few to-the-point questions thrown at Seth, live from Tucson, Arizona.

GL: What bands are you in right now?
SB: Panty Raid. For awhile I quit all my bands because I got sick of being sucha fame whore, but there's something about Ian! There's something about Janelle [this is the famed "East Bay Janelle", an inspiration for songs by Bratmobile, The Queers and Screeching Weasel]! It's Blind Devotion! So Panty Raid it is. But watch out for Celebrity Budget.

GL: What's going on with your label Super Eight?
SB: I quit it but then I had a dream there was a Super 8 Amusement Park and now I think it might just go on hiatus!! I don't know! I spent all this crazy time and crazy cash putting out records, and worked crazy jobs (telemarketing, passing out fruit cups to business men in San Francisco, copy-shop slut, you name it!) But check out Luxo Champ. Now I'm just gonna sit back and relax and do the next thing I can think of... write a book!

GL: When, where and how did you "come out"?
SB: I don't know! To my mom? I called her up before Christmas when I was fifteen and told her I was a faggy-fag and in the same phone call I asked if I could bring my sexy boyfriend with us to Hawaii (we went to Hawaii cuz my dad died and didn't wanna do the same old Christmas shit). She said "No" cuz it was too expensive but my mom is cool! She tells me which men at the post office are gay (she knows cuz she goes to cool underground gay parties) and she even hangs out at the gay bar! Telling my friends I was gay would've been like telling Richard Simmons he couldn't dance- POINTLESS!

GL: Once you were "out", did you find it hard to find other punk fags?
SB: No, cuz they were sneaking up all around me! I actually didn't really care about trying to "fit in" and "make friends" or whatever. Do you mean to say "Did you find it hard to find other punk fags...TO MAKE OUT WITH?" I would say "NO!" again! I don't know- I found one when I was 18 + I still make out with him. It's funny- is he punk? I don't know! I got him a key-chain for X-mas that plays a whole Ricky Martin song.

GL: Where and how did you eventually find them?
SB: Behind my back! My good friend Adam and I grew up in Tucson and we were both punk fags so that's that. And I snuck around America on Government $$$ and found punk fags and un-fags. I didn't care who they went to bed with! I just like people if they're funny!

GL: Once out, how quick were you to a) neck with a boy b) blow or be blown c)fuck or get fucked?
SB: I guess I'm cheap but I always was a pervert! PERVERSION! I did all that stuff with boys before I was a teenager! But I think I was doing that stuff all through out my "teens" whether or not I declared myself "gay" (I never cared about labels!)

GL: Who do you think is the cutest guy in indie-rock, or more bluntly, who do you want to fuck, especially if they may not know it?
SB: I think this answer is obvious- Grant Lawrence of the Smugglers! Not EVEN lying! The weird thing about it is I don't even have a Superman fetish! OK, so I don't really go for rock'n'rollers. I try but I'm tired! There are two that I really had the cutes on (hint: "Do The Math" and hint, hint: "The Fox") [Seth is possibly referencing albums by the Peechees and the Rondelles, both home to cute dudes] but I never went for the homer! They would have PUNCHED MY FACE! But at least we're friends! And I'm over it!

GL: What's been your best and worst "gay" experience in the "punk" community?
SB: Worst- This guy in SF named "Aaron Detroit" from the band the Little Deaths. I was coaxed into making out with him at a kissing booth in 1997 in Olympia. He was NASTY! He kept trying to take me home, I was like "I GOTTA GO!" Then I guess Luis made out with him one night in SF , too! And then I started going out with Luis and Aaron told everyone he went out with both of us and fucked us both and we were not ALL THAT! I hate gossip but this is true- HE IS ALL LIES AND %100 CHUMP! Best- I'd say- CLUB HOT SUMMER 1999, Oakland. [The warehouse-venue Seth ran that provided shows for little-known touring bands].

GL: Do you have gig-gay-dar? How can you tell if someone at a hot 'n' sweaty rock show may want to suck the cheesy end of your dirty ol' fuck-stick later that night?
SB: Sure, it's mostly dirty old perverts! You can ALWAYS tell if you're in the band and someone keeps snapping your photo- it's the dirty old man up in front! I know cuz I've seen it! But I never got any action at a "hot'n'sweaty" rock show! Only once- and it was the best thing ever! [See last question].

GL: Have you seen "The Talented Mr. Ripley"? It seems to be causing a bit of a flap in the "community", if you know what I mean. What did you think of the film, and would you fuck Matt Damon if given the opportunity?
SB: Matt Damon is an ugly jock. Now that he's made a name for himself he thinks he can play psycho gay characters! But think about if it was his first role- he wouldn't have taken it! No way would I sleep with him! It would be like being forced to have sex with someone from my biology class in high school! The movie was NOT all that. I kept waiting (and waiting) for it to end. I drank a bottle of Boone's Farm [cheap American whiskey] which usually makes movies BETTER but it sure the fuck didn't work!

GL: You lousy fuck! As much as the movie made me squirm in my seat for various reasons, I liked it. Who IS the most famous person you've done it with? I heard a friend of yours fucked Lucas Haas, the Amish kid from "Witness"!!!
SB: From the questions you keep asking me, I sound like a huge HO!

GL: You and I caused a bit of a stir at the Lookout Records big Labour Day Putt Putt Picnic or whatever it's called, by making out together behind the merchandise shack. This was after you guzzled a mickey of vodka, snuck in past a line up of five hundred people, got sunstroke, terrorized the arcade, heckled the bands, threw my Canucks hat behind a pin ball machine and swam in the 18th hole fountain. The smooching pictures ended up in Larry Livermore's widely distributed "Lookout" fanzine. Do you have any comment on this?
SB: Yes, I was drinking WHISKEY! Molly Neuman, the boss of Lookout tried to kick my ass out! I think I had more fun that day than ANY ONE. Larry Livermore actually came to a show I put on at my house and started passing out copies of his "Lookout" zine and I was PISSED! I was like "What the fuck is this?" And he said "Oh you and Grant Lawrence making out is BIG NEWS!" And I was like "Why? Because some 26-year-old rock star suddenly realizes he's gay? Not my problem!" It was that fanzine that made me move away from Oakland, back home to Tucson to start causing the kind of trouble that's fun too- where no one writes about it! No, just kidding! I had fun that day- but you need to learn the "French Exchange", Grant! To set the record straight- I'm a good boy. The only reason I made out with you is cuz Panty Raid has a kissing booth on tour and when I saw you had Smugglers Kissing Bucks, I had to get one!

GL: Whatever! Thanks a lot Seth, thanks for the chat, good luck with the band and the label and see you around somewhere soon!

Write to Seth Bogart at PO BOX 143, Tucson, AZ 85702 or check out the Super 8 website at www.thesuper8.com where you can buy fun & trashy records + CDs. Look out for the PANTY RAID HOT'n'HORNY 2000 SUMMER TOUR! where the band plans to go to Canada to "teach Grant how to make out"!!!

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Fags Hate God - by Faggo

Dear Pastor Fred Phelps and the Westboro Baptist Church,

As much as I will stand to defend your freedom of speech and as hard as I try to ignore your stupid, fearful and insecure shouting tactics ...

I can only be pushed so far before I start shouting back with the same lame tactics. I don't think I'm the only one either.

See you on the playground at reccess! With all my faggy blessings, Faggo

p.s. - In case your fathers, brothers, sons, cousins & nephews were still wondering... we're still recruiting.

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Hey all you faggot haters... emails from Byron Fast

Time on your hands?..... Wanna go head to head with a real live faggot?... Think you got what it takes?... just email Byron Fast macfast4@aol.com

Find him in a gay chat room near you. Who knows, ya just might bump into someone you like... Here's what a couple of satisfied customers had to say.....

Tim was found in gay chatline #8 saying, "I hate fags" Tim9777: what Macfast4: why hate fags Tim9777: because they r gay Macfast4: and so what exactly? Tim9777: r u a fag Macfast4: yes Tim9777: do u suck dick & take it in the ass Macfast4: sometimes, not lately Tim9777: then u need 2 be shot Macfast4: who will do it? Tim9777: i will Macfast4: tell me how Tim9777: no Macfast4: that took along time / tell me someting about you Tim9777: y Macfast4: well, you sound interesting Tim9777: ok i don't like fags thts so fucking gross in the bible it says its wrong Tim9777: boy u best not be hitting on me Macfast4: in the bible it says adultry is wrong too, and women wearing hats Macfast4: no i'm not hitting on you Tim9777: ok i didn't read that part Macfast4: you only read the part that says fags are wrong Tim9777: but it is fucking disgusting Macfast4: is it the sex or the love? Tim9777: the sex i love my brother & hes male Macfast4: okay so it's the sex, you don't have to like it but is it all right for others to have it? Tim9777: but the love is pretty gross 2 how can u fall in love w/another guy that u r not related 2 Macfast4: it's something you can't control i guess Tim9777: well i guess thats u & it was wrong of me 2 go in the room & say what i did ..... but u r not gonna change my opinion unless u can suck dick better then a female Macfast4: that's all it could take? didn't you see that seinfield episode where Elaine is mad cause guys can suck cock better then women Tim9777: no i was just kidin because i would never let a guy suck my cock Macfast4: of course not no one is asking you to Tim9777: well i gotta go Macfast4: good talkin to ya Tim9777: later gay guy Macfast4: you bet straight guy

Jclark421 was found in gay chat 9 saying "I hate faggots!!!!!!" Jclark421: are u gay... Macfast4: yeah Jclark421: why are u gay for? Macfast4: i never thought about it - just am Jclark421: no, no, i bet your a goodlooking guy, why choose another guy, when girls will love u forever, just don't cheat on them. Macfast4: i do like girls - but i like guys better - they're tougher Jclark421: man, I don't hate fagats because I work in a kitchen and all of them are gays, and they are all good looking guys, I just don't find other guys attractive, so you bi then, correct. Macfast4: no more gay - but this weekend I touched a woman's breasts Jclark421: thats good, farther than I've gotten in weeks... Jclark421: so how did you do that? Macfast4: we were in a bar and she was topless and I asked her, she said yes so I did - see there are benefits to being gay Jclark421: so u know how guys are so easy to fuck any girls, are guys the same way with other guys? so would u fuck and good looking guy Jclark421: good story and how old are u again.? Macfast4: a) i would not fuck just any good looking guy b) i am 28 Jclark421: why do girls hang out with gay (hope u don't mind me using the gay word). guys for. Macfast4: you can even say fag if you want - because we are nice and don't forget to call Jclark421: nice talking to you man, well I hope u have a nice day tomorrow. Macfast4: you're outta here? later then

KCarl7582: im sorry i don't tak to gay people. i don't like humping up the ass Macfast4: i can't hump your ass from here KCarl7582: thank god. don't talk to me anymore. you faggot! Macfast4: i love it when you talk rough KCarl7582: F-U-C-K- Y-O-U! Macfast4: the more you yell the more I like it

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Reviews - by Faggo & Rufus

QUEER ZINE EXPLOSION #17 - full size - $1
Quite simply the most comprehensive review of current queer zine and queer music culture. Updated and very informative- if you want to know more about the queer world outside - go here first, very punk. Check out editor Larry's zine Holy Titclamps while you're at it. www.holytitclamps.com or QZE Box 590488 San Francisco, CA 94159 USA

KING OF THE FAIRIES #9 ($2) & #10 ($3) - halfsize
This zine is completely obsessed with one subject - Ashley Macisaac. Editor Glendon McKinney documents his fascination with the well know Canadian fidler (who happens to speak openly about his fascinations with golden showers and young boys). O f course, that makes it rich in content right from the get go. #9 contains Glendon's diary style entries as he trips through cities, attends concerts (most often Ashley) and obseves life. #10 is packed with more pages and a bonus King Of The Fairies Come Rag - no,I haven't used it, I'm a bit partial to the 2 I presently use. Also a really hot sex story about a skinhead in a porti-potty at Toronto's Pride Parade. Check it out! 91 Sackville St. Toronto, Ont. M5A 3E6 Canada

HOMOPUNK WORLD #2 - fullsize -
$?Tony Arena has put together a fabulous mix of... you guessed it, punk & queer. A great cut & paste approach to a diverse content. I was SO excited about the piece on Joe Butcher who was in the hardcore band LUDICHRIST in the 80's and has since 'come out' (albiet, with a mental affliction) I never knew and I just love finding out about the hidden queer history of my punk past. You'll also find a HUGE interview with GB Jones and Abbey Denson and tons of comix and reviews. PO Box 1502 Old Chelsea Station, New York, NY 10012 USA

ANONYMOUS BOY Collection # 7-fullsize - $?
Anonymous Boy (aka Tony Arena) has been drawing up naked punk homos for years and had compiled a bunch of his work from 98-99 for your viewing pleasure. It's so fun to look at naked boys (and girls!) wearing punk clothing with littleancedotes along side them: skateboardsthrown aside, gig flyers on the wall. Such simple things to put a smile on my face. PO Box 1502 Old Chelsea Station, New York, NY 10012 USA

CHURCH OF SEITAN - halfsize - $1 or $2
For the vegan in all of us - follow punker Trixie as she travels from SF to Vancouver, Toronto, New York, Boston, DC, Chicago & Denver documenting vegan restaurants along the way. Hell, she even mentions eating with me in Vancouver at Buddha's Vegetarian Restaurant. Perfect for the traveling vegan. PO Box 410312 San Francisco, CA 94141 USA or trixie@cwnet.com

MOLE - halfsize - $?
This is a personal comic zine - it's as equally fucked as it's briliant. Nick, who named the his publication after the mole on his forehead, worked with me at a natural foods warehouse years ago, and his silent nature and knowinglaughs all make more sence now. I never knew what an awesome artist he is - I just love flipping the pages to look at them - the dialogue and side-notes bust my gut with laughter. Oh joy - stragiht boys can make a gay boy like me laugh so hard! 2162 E. 2nd Ave. Vancouver, BC V5N 1E8 Canada

BURNING AIRLINES - Mission: Control! CD-Desoto Records (1999)
I can't believe I din't run out and buy this earlier. Ex-members of JAWBOX, and GOVERNMENT ISSUE - of course it's fucken awesome! When I think of how diverse and varied JAWBOX was over 8 years as a band - this easily slips into 'could have been the next JAWBOX record'. J Robbins guitar playing and lyrics are as clever and soothing as ever - such a stand-out musician. Drummer Peter Moffet drives a powerful beat and rounds up this powerful trio - he also happens to be a faggo.

GRADE - Under The Radar - Victory Records (1999)
WOW! A Canadian hardcore band that is doing something fresh. I heard about these guys when I was touring with Sparkmarker in Europe and some HC kids asked if we knew them. Hell, I hadn't even heard of them. Which is weird, hearing about a Canadian band for the first time - in Germany! I almost didn't stay to see them when they came totwon recently - but I was so glad when I did. A mix of heavy hardcore and melodic punk - almost AVAIL meets Rorschac. So refreshing! I must admit - I was also crushing over the styin' singer - couldn't keep my eyes off him. Hope to see him, I mean them, again. Maybe they'll do an interview for Faggo?

MOBY - Play CD (1999)
I remember being at some crazy bar in the Meat Packing District of NYC in '96 and hearing a cover of MISSION OF BURMA's 'That's when I Reach for my Revolver'. I asked the DJ who it was and he said MOBY. I'd heard about this queer, vegan, christian musician and I have to admit - techno & christianity kept me from buying his earlier stuff. But I heard this one at a friends party a while ago and just went 'YEAH!' It's been critically acclaimed and rightfuly so - trance, blues hybrid - whatever. This is such a smooth, laid-back, feel-good, soulful CD. MOBY even has some cool personal essays that add just enough punk points for me to say it's my favorite buy of the year.

PROMISE RING - Nothing Feels Good CD - Jade Tree (1997)
So, no one said that the reviews had to be recent. I saw this band a few years ago and thought they were very good - but I wierdly counter reacted to their hype at the tme. But as often happens when I do that - I discover that I wish I bought into it at the time. This band is SO catchy and fun - I bop to work in such a good mood. The second song 'Perfect LInes' could have been on an old DOUGHBOYS record. I highly recommend this record and when i get some extra cash, I'll buy their latest CD. Oh, and by the way, their guitarist - he's a faggo too!

SPARKMARKER - Treasure Chest CD - Revelation Records (1999)
OK, OK this just so happens to be a band I played guitar and screamed for - so it has queer content just by participation. This CD is a collection of unreleased and hard to find songs on one CD (16 tracks) spanning our history as a band for 7 years. The liner notes tell the story of the band, tours and tragedies, recordings we made, tons of phots and gig flyers - the whole kit and kaboodle. A definate closure project for me - I was happy to have the last 4 songs we recorded finally released.

BY A THREAD - The Last Of The Daydreams - Landspeed/Revelation Records (1999)
I don't have to review local talent if I don't want to - but this Vancouver post-hardcore college-rock style band sticks out inthis little/big city. Tight as hell and oozing with talent. They ride the crest of SUNNY DAY REAL ESTATE (a bit too close at times) with a delightful heavy edge. I can't wait to see what they produce in the future.

NOISE QUEEN #20.5 - halfsize - $2
Tim packs together his personal journey to SF with his boyfriend Arne and reviews tons of zines and tons of records. The layout is a bit spacious at times, and one particular font made me squint my eyes to read. Check out his website www.geocities.com/westhollywood/castro/7507 or write PO Box 28010 bagot Post Office, Kingston Ontario K7L 1A0 Canada

ANTI QUEEN SCENE ZINE - halfsize - $1
Quite possibly the smallest zine I've seen (1 1/2 inches by 3!) - Andy the editor seems to be writing from the UK Rants, raves and reviews - Queer Press Vs. Gay Press, Queer quiz, lotsa fun PO Box 910133 12413 Berlin Germany also check out his less than complete web page (watch out for all the advertising porn!) www.flesh4free.com/pics/antizine

POSER #1 - halfsize - $2
Subcultures, meditations, comix, porn and yes - pornogami!!! Definatley the highlight of 99 - fun, personal, punk and queer. Porn reviews and scene reviews - and did i mention comics? Editor Rufus Poser creates the personal dialogue for a journey of 'fitting-in' - as the punker in a queer world or a queer in a punk world. The mystique, the facade, the pose. Yes, we share the same address. PO Box 1457 Bentall Centre, Vancouver, BC V6C 2P7 Canada

MAXIMUMROCKNROLL #199 - fullsize - $3<
the best thing about MRR is that they still trade zines when you send one in for review - I respect that so much after almost 20 years of doing it. I must say, when looking thru it I realized 1) How much stuff is in there 2) How out of touch I am with punk these days and 3) How intimidating it can seem. Looking at MRR today just reminds me of how I used to buyit dilligently and how I did know everything that was going on. Just to be 'in the know', punk is a full time job. Note - very little queer content if at all:( PO Box 460760 San Francisco, CA 94146-0760 USA
maximumrnr@mindspring.com

DIRTY BARBY - demo cassette
Gutter-punk, glam-rock mixed with a bit of noisy sleeze. Whiny, screaching vocals wash over this punk quartet. Image-wise imagine Jane's Addiction & KISS in a fist-fight - scary. Florida has a crazy musical reputation (wierd death metal and all), DIRTY BARBY add thier queer twist to it. Look-out for their forthcoming CD 'Coffee, Tea, Soda Pop, Pee...' dirtybarby@webtv.net or www.dirtybarby.com

TEEN FAG #6 - full size - $3
OK, so this zine is over 2 years old but damn is it good. Well written articles on suicide, bath houses, classified ads, Roberta Gregory & Frances Farmer. Big thumbs up!
Chow Chow Productions PO Box 20204 Seattle WA, 98102 USA or gordongordon@hotbot.com

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Jesse - by Dagnir

I imagine Jesse lying next to me. On our sides. His arm is draped over my waist. I feel the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck. His hard-on rubs the small of my back through the thin fabric of his boxers. His wool socks are coarse and irritate me. He snores softly, rhythmically, lulling me to sleep. With my eyes closed I can see the hair on his stubby fingers. Wiry hair. His hands rough and callused.

I see him dancing. And laughing. Drunk, of course. Inexpertly singing along with the music he's just set blaring on the portable. He wakes me from slumber. But as I watch him mosh with beer in hand, I can't get mad. He sees me awake and watching him. He pretends to ignore me, but he's pleased. The show is entirely for my benefit. We both know that.

He's been up for awhile. Enough time to get up, get dressed, scrounge some food and start the road toward alcoholic oblivion. Without looking at me he tosses a greasy bag in my direction. He never stops dancing. I sit up and retrieve the bag from where it bounced. Jubilantly I pull out a Quarter Pounder. Jesse knows what a junk food addict I am. He knows it and he hates it. But he indulges me now and then. I rip into my burger. Jesse finally looks at me and smiles.

I love watching him dance. The energy. His joy. The way the fabric of his clothes gets pulled. The sound his chains make. The way his head bobs, his boots stomp. He looks alive and happy.

As he passes by me he suddenly stops and falls down beside me, carelessly abandoning his now empty beer can. He rests his head in my lap. With his eyes closed he opens his mouth wide. I tear off a piece of burger and shove it down his throat. He almost purrs as he chews. Keeping his eyes closed he smiles a huge fucking grin. I can't resist. I reach out and slide my hand under his shirt, rubbing his belly, not caring if I get him greasy. I slide my fingers through the hair on his stomach.

Jesse opens his eyes.

'Fucking dick.' He says with a gleeful smirk.

He jumps up and heads for the door. He stops with his hand on the doorknob. He looks at me and smiles. Daring me to follow him.

I lay in my sleeping bag. I imagine Jesse looking at me and smiling. I lay in my sleeping bag with my eyes closed, smiling back.

DAG
dagnir@prodigy.net

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No Sex In Parks - Mitch Fury

It was late one evening and I was feeling quite horny. As much as I tried to get all the sexual images out of my mind, the thoughts of getting-off wouldn't escape my mind. Before I knew it, I was out cruising the Loop at Sunset Beach - a popular place for men to secretly have sex with other men in a public and anonymous space. An interesting pastime - cruising that is - I mean, so little dialogue, so much action - instant gratification with no responsibility. It's pretty much... wh