Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Night of a Thousand Gowns

Three million sequins, and a gazillion emptied bedazzlers!!  It sure sparkled last weekend at the Night of A Thousand Gowns, the Imperial Court's annual fundraiser.  I was able to interview several of the celebs and monarchs on hand:

Miss Coco Peru, Lt. Dan Choi, Empress Nicole, Rollerina, Kelly King (white girl can SING!), Mimi Imfurst, Bobby Pinz, Ari Gold, Broadway veteran Terri White (and her wife) and many more as we all prepared to watch Empress Farrah Moans (!!) and Emperor Jack get crowned! 

Check out this video I did for Gaylifenyc:

More photos and story to follow in a separate entry (working as a federal juror is killing me!)

Monday, March 29, 2010


After the party last friday, Cooldan had a devil of a time cleaning up.  "You wouldn't believe what I found just in my bathtub!" There were drinks, bottles, scuff marks and towels everywhere.  "What was going on in the bathtub??" 

Mystery solved once this evidence was found floating around in Blackberry ether.  I don't know where to begin with this photo shoot.  It looks like a promotional poster for a very bad sit-com.  Caption this:

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

From the Irish Curse to Power Tool

Have you ever heard of the Irish Curse?  Apparently Irishmen are known for having small dicks, or at least that's the premise of a new Off-Broadway play I caught the other night at the Soho Playhouse.  It's still in previews, but the play, written by Martin Casella, stars a wonderfully talented cast of actors who gather for in a church basement support group for men with their shortcomings.  The Irish?  Really?

From what I know it's Argentina with the prime beef and India where regular size condoms slip off during sex.  Generalities, in my experience, can often be trumped with a whopping contradiction which leads to my hard and fast rule about penis size: You can never accurately measure penis size until you place one firmly in your mouth.

I digress. The Irish Curse, however, does not.  Most importantly, its message is one of fellowship and how finding your tribe can literally mean the difference between life and death.

Speaking of fellowship, Bam Bam celebrated his birthday this past weekend and Cooldan threw him a surprise party.  Thanks, Dan!  It was a smashing success!!  More photos later, but here's one from my friend Scott.  That's Justin in yellow.  I'm in the middle somewhere being licked by a girl and bitten by a man.  
Where's Bam?

More pics later.  Including: On Sunday we headed up to Westchester for my friend Christine's wedding.  Congratulations!!  She certainly was a sparkling bride!!  Also, somehow I caught the garter.

Total switch of topics, but did you know there is a separate ward for gay prisoners in Los Angeles?  Have you ever been to gay prison?  Know someone who has?  Let's talk!!  I was contracted to write a screenplay about a prison romance with my friend Kohl.

This is going to be a blast!  As one friend said to me, "What are you going to do for research?  Watch the prison scenes from POWER TOOL?"  Ha!  What a great porno.  Jeff Stryker certainly doesn't have the Irish Curse.

Why does everything come back to penis size?

Friday, March 19, 2010

Urban Juror

Oh me oh my.  I postponed like three times, but headed in for Jury Duty because I couldn't postpone anymore.  Sadly, my civic duty was at the federal courthouse.  They have this rule where they take your phone!!  No electronics at all.  So there we are in the federal courthouse feeling VERY naked.

All the while my friend Travis has jury duty in a nearby municipal courthouse where they get to have not only phones, but laptops with free WIFI!!!  While I am passed out on some carpet (I feel itchy!!) Travis is wandering the jury holding pen with his iphone open to the GRINDR application using geo- locate to find a hook up in the courtroom (He's 30 feet away.  He's 3 feet away.  He's inside of me!!)

Thankfully, we got out at the same time for lunch and found a dive bar on Nassau street which is also a BIKINI bar.  The waitresses are wearing hardly anything ("no photos allowed") and we made friends with bikini-clad bartendress CARLA. Turns out, Travis was selected for a trial and he'll be there two weeks.  More Carla!!

Today in federal court they started narrowing a 12 person jury down from a field of probably a hundred people.  You wouldn't BELIEVE the reasons people come up with for trying to get out of jury duty!!  It was a total gripe fest. "M'am, may I approach the bench?" they go up to whine and wheeze and snivel out some sob story. 

It sure was a melting pot in that jury room.  All sorts of trade....I've never seen such a compilation of people.  Many of them couldn't speak English even though they've been in the country twenty years.  Every last kind of person was there and to prove it, in just a few days a NYC courtroom will be graced with the presence of the most famous transsexual in the world, Amanda Lepore!!  Look what my friend Danny found floating around the twitter-sphere: 
How much do you love that? 

So long story short, I got selected to be a juror for a criminal case in federal court.  There goes the next two weeks of my life!!   At least Travis will be around, and Carla. 

I really wish I could have served with Amanda Lepore.  Look out, she's all ready for the Bikini Bar. 
How amazing would it be to deliberate with her?

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Bam Bam Philosophizes

Bam Bam decided to propose a riddle tonight.  After several glasses of wine: 

What is the beginning of eternity and the end of time and space?  The beginning of every end, and the end of every race? 

Yes, I have to live with this!!  I suppose it's only fair because last time we were out, with Bam's recruiter and her friends, all asked him the same version of this question: "How do you cope with Jesse??!?!?!?!"

If you really care, the answer is:

The letter "e".  

Sunday, March 14, 2010

He Loves His Muscles

I write for the beefcake site Paragon Men एंड yesterday I went to the studio to interview a couple of the models (in their underwear, of course!) One of the models was a gigantic Angelo Garcia, who was once a member of Menudo!  He's a singer and also a body builder--those TRAPS.  I've never seen such TRAPS in my life.  He's like three times my width and all muscle and now publicly out.

For the record, Angelo did not have sex with fellow Menudo member Ricky Martin!  But did you know that Menudo was just young boys and basically when they turned 15, they kicked em out and found a new recruit?  Angelo said the Menudo team was like a parent to him, but acknowledged the rumors the group was headed by a bunch of pedophiles.

I also got to interview (will let you know when all this hits gaylifenyc.org) the adorable model Phil Fusco.  He is Paragon's Man of the Year--and has a huge following online.   People write him strange things like how they dream about what he smells like.  He's straight, and that Long Island accent!!  I love it.  Check out this video of him that has a quarter million hits :  "I love my muscles"!!!!

Phil's also really into the stock market, so we want to have him do a regular video segment where he sits in his underwear and gives you stock tips.  What shall we call it? 

Saturday, March 13, 2010


My old college roommate Richard sent me this photo from our freshman year at USC. I get such a strange feeling looking at this kid. There are so many things I want to tell him.

Check out the Swatch watch and friendship bracelet and high school class ring!  And that big falsified smile.  That big smile doesn't belong on the kid who sat on the roof of the tallest building on campus, Waite-Phillips Hall, legs hanging over the edge, watching a crowd gather 20 stories below to see if he'll jump.  That kid wouldn't have even told you he was suicidal.

How times change!  How we change.  My old roommate Richard now goes by Andrew and he changed his last name, too.  Jesse's smile in the photo will one day be genuine.  He has no idea, but he will even one day be writing smutty gay sex stories in BUTT Magazine!!!  Good for him.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Yank! Is a doodle-dandy!

Yank! is running uptown at the York Theatre, in the basement beneath a very impressive skyscraper on stilts.  The York Theatre, I did not know, takes pride in presenting only musicals!  Its creative director, a very funny Jim Morgan, opened YANK! by letting us know there would be brief nudity.  "Last night that got an applause!" he added, to applause.  "Yank will also give you thoughts worth pondering.  If you don't want those, go and see MAMMA MIA."  Bravo.  How insulting was/is Mamma Mia?  
Yank!  Is a WW2 love story tagged, "Some stories don't make it into the history books".  It's gotten great buzz and BTW that love story is GAY.  Look closely at the poster!  The producers downplay that and go on about how it's a love story that transcends "gay", but that's what you must say these days to make a gay show marketable.  So it's not gay.  It's two servicemen in love set in World War 2.  Fair?

The musical begins with a boy in San Francisco finding a journal in a junk shop detailing the army life of Stu (Bobby Steggert)---who falls for his squad mate Mith (Ivan Hernandez aka "Hollywood" for his good looks.  Yes I'm already having thoughts worth pondering!)
The cast features 12 actors (when's the last time you saw a show with 12 actors off-Broadway?  Hot.) including Nancy Anderson who is every woman.  Seriously, she plays every woman!
Nancy must be the actress having most fun off (or on) Broadway!  Well, maybe it's a face-off between her and the actress in 39 steps.  In fact, for a love story YANK! is way too much fun.  Until the end when wham, bam, bash! It hits you in the face.  Let's just say (to steal a lyric from the show) that it ends not good, not bad, but true.

Even Bam loved it, and that's saying something.  It did bother me (I'm such a stickler for this kind of thing) that the writer used terms like gay folk, fag, and closet case which struck me as anachronistic.  Were those terms around then?  Remember TITANIC, when they wouldn't let poor Kate Winslet out of steerage and into the elevator and when she finally did get into the elevator she flipped the guy off?  Do you really think they were flipping people off in 1912?  Totally took me out of the story.  I did some research today (can you call Wikipedia research?) and found gay and fag as we know and use them today may have been in use in the 1940's.  A heartwarming discovery.

Actual thoughts worth pondering?  There must be so many stories like this that have died with those who lived them!  Not just world war 2, but all the way back.  Stories that would have been drowned, buried, burned at the stake.  The two (very) elderly men beside me in the packed theatre could have been WW2 survivors, and I was so happy that they were able to see a story like this.  Finally.

It also made me admire men who "pass" as straight and (even today) had/have the courage to come out of the closet because (at their own peril) they don't have to.  I (ahem) never really had a choice.  Yank! also made me miss a time when our lives were so forbidden that the community valued each member, and taught one another how to cope and survive.  There's something we've lost in winning the cultural war.  It's the left hand of acceptance that today we segregate ourselves based on style, class, age, etc.  Camaraderie has become too cool for school, even when still faced with discrimination.

One of the best lines in the play comes between the two lovers when they dream of the future.  "Maybe things will be different," he says.  "Not right now but maybe in 1948, or 1950." Ha!

Go see YANK! and support this kind of theatre.  It's been extended though April 4th.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

No escape

Last night I was a guest of the most exclusive property in the world---a safe secret harbor around the corner from Capetown, South Africa.  Everybody was amazed that I was let into this confine, but the wealthy owner wanted something from me.  I didn't have what he was looking for, but we began a game of hide and seek espionage that had me in subterranean meetings and racing through a series of tunnels beneath the property, something like the catacombs under Paris. 

In the waters off this stronghold, I'm aware of the growing problem of saltwater crocodiles who are now preying on dolphins.  Suddenly I'm in the water, watching a dolphin be savagely attacked and swallowed by one of these prehistoric monsters. I am terrified, but also aware that a dolphin is a big meal and I'm probably safe from the crocodile.  Shreds of dolphin flesh hang from my fingers like long strips of prosciutto and I can't seem to shake them off no matter how hard I try. 

Thankfully, I've got a propellor device that I engage from my back that lifts me up and away, speeding, rushing in a thrill ride toward the mountains.  I land down in a green valley surrounded by forests, but I am not safe.  Out of the trees a small man jumps out to battle me and I go to punch him--ka-POW!

I've hit the light on my nightstand and it crashes to the floor beside my bed along with several books.  

"What the hell??!" says Bam Bam beside me.  I tell him he's lucky I didn't swing his way or he'd have a broken nose.  At this point I also realize that in my dream I swung a punch with my right hand, when in waking life I am left handed. 

More importantly, these dreams seem to continue from night to night and I don't know why.  What's the correlation to waking life?  While I appreciate the adventure (I actually look forward to them), they leave me more tired than before I went to bed.  Does this happen to you?  I'm waking up exhausted!

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Fire Island Interactive Summer Calendar!

It's new, it's queer, it's nearly here!  Cooldan and I have finished a fabulous Fire Island Interactive Summer Calendar 2010!  Before going to print, we're looking for advertisers!

Have a business, website or product you'd like to promote to the gay market?  We've got ad space! 

Aren't we the eager entrepeneurs?  Check out the pitch, prices and sample month and cover below: 

JADE presents a 5-month interactive calendar, with final results and a summer round up.  It's the must-have yearbook for every house in the Pines and Cherry Grove!

Available ad space for the following, and priced at per month:

- 2”x2” ad space: available for each month (total of 5) featuring your artwork at $250.
- 1” x 8” banner at the bottom of the calendar month at $150.
- 1.5" x 3.5" tower box to the right of the calendar month at $200
- event listing: in plain text on a specific day, priced at $30. We will accommodate 3 listings max per day (so as not to overcrowd big dates such as July 4 weekend)

We are confident that your business will gain tremendous exposure and your endorsement will not go unnoticed by the community! The interactive 8" by10" calendars feature May through September months and will be sold for $20 at major retailers in both the Pines and Cherry Grove in Fire Island.

There is limited time left for you to promote your business as we will go to print in April.

JADE embraces each member in our community and encourages you to do the same!  To reserve your ad space, calendar, or for more information please contact us.

Phone 1.917.805.1325
Fax 1.347.826.1477

or email Jesse here: 

Party Party Party, three times party!

I have to agree with Next Magazine's assessment that Michael Musto's 25th anniversary of being the voice of the Village Voice last week (thrown by Chip Duckett) was the best party of the year (if not the decade!) Drag queens, burlesque babes, fashion icons and all the most garish and daring of downtown headed on uptown(ish) to tribute Mr. Musto's legend!

It was definitely a Who's Who of nightlife past and present.  Check out the best photo spread here at New York Social Diary.  I don't remember too much because I was busy following liquor trays, saying hello to friends, laughing at the snuggies they gave out for the rooftop and harrassing stars like radio personality Derek Hartley.  Hey, he said I did it "in a welcome way".  I also love how he described in his blog the unbelievable views from the double decker penthouse:

The Empire State Building loomed before us, towering over the center of midtown like a beautiful middle finger telling the rest of the world to fuck off. But you know, in a really glittering and spectacular way. To the side was my beloved Chrysler building, a fabulous gay pinkie jutting out for spite.

Michael Urie and Joan Rivers hosted.  On Musto's 50th anniversary Joan Rivers will probably host again only this time she will be broadcasting from that fabulous gay pinkie, having turned into the hologram of Obi Wan Kenobi. 

Though nothing can compare to that, for the Oscars on Sunday I hosted a party with Linda Simpson and Joe Mode benefitting Out in TV & Film and the Ali Forney center.  Why did they leave out Bea Arthur and Farrah Fawcett in the tribute section?  If they didn't do enough film work, why was Michael Jackson included?  In my opinion, they should make the tribute section much longer and cut down on everything else. I want to hear Kathryn Grayson sing a note once more,  to watch Jennifer Jones talk about how Love is a Many Splendored Thing; to see Bea Arthur rise up from the bathtub as Vera in the musical version of Mame! 

As for this year's films...Crazy Heart?  About a washed up country singer?  It sounds like a remake of Crimes of the Heart and it took me 3 sittings to get through that slow simmer.  Which of you have seen Hurt Locker?  I don't usually watch war movies, especially not an Iraq war movies, but my friend Matt's cousin Jeremy Renner was up for the Best Actor Oscar.  Two degrees of separation!  It's on the Netflix queue.

Gay Life NYC was on hand at VIG 27 lounge to capture some of the Oscar bash action and caught up with me about my Violet Tendencies.  You can tell Mike is feeling loosy goosy on camera, and at one point in the night he felt good enough to ask lesbian idol Jenny Shimizu about having sex with Angelina Jolie.  "What the hell is this?!" she said and stalked out of the interview.   She must be protecting Brad Pitt's honor (?)  Jenny didn't make this clip, but maybe I can get it.

Sunday, March 07, 2010


It's hard to give massage. Massage makes you get hard! But can you imagine being a masseur? My friend Paul is certified and just stopped entirely because he can't deal with all the kinks. My friend Martin in San Francisco, on the other hand, still puts up with them!

So much for doctor-patient privacy, this story is too good not to share.  Love it!  Makes me glad I'm just gay.  It also makes me think cerebrospinal fluid is hot.  And I now wonder what will happen if I make it to my 50's?!  Martin sent this tale to me via email, and said I could share.  He's such a good writer I'll just let him tell you in his words:

A guy named Mike called to arrange a massage yesterday and asked casually if it would be okay if he wore woman's panties. I have a fairly accommodating nature and besides, due to the economy, things have been really slow. Mike proceeded to quiz me on my taste in women's panties. It has been quite a few years since I've been had any direct experience with women's panties.

I explained I was just a humble massage therapist. I suggested he might be better served going to one of the many professionals here in San Francisco who specialize in scenes like this and have a shared passion for ladies undergarments. "Oh no, I wouldn't want to go to a jaded escort!" Mike ejaculated. BTW- There was a time when that term was used freely in children's books. "Look Jane look. The dog has run into the house!" Dick ejaculated." It does not take much to excite Dick.

Mike showed up right on time with a camouflage duffle bag of panties. A military man, perhaps? You know how sometimes someone is so clearly thrilled to death about something, you decide to indulge them? This dude was vibrating with excitement. He wanted to put on a whole fashion show. After about ten minutes of watching a sixty-two year old man jump in and out of woman's underwear asking me, "Do these make me look hot?" It took every bit of self control I possess not to say, "No, they make you look fat."

At this point I'm looking at the clock thinking OK, it's time to take charge. Let's get through the Fall Collection and down to business. "All right panty boy, put on this pair and get on the table!" I said like a drill sergeant, choosing a black frilly tutu thong number. "Yes sir, right away sir! I like it when you call me panty boy!" Uh oh, the magic words that pushed me down the slippery slope of participating in this fantasy: panty boy.

On the massage table face down Mike is writhing around and repeating, "Yeah, I'm your panty boy. Please snap my panties Sir!" My room mate John was in the kitchen next to the massage room, I'm sure overhearing this impassioned request while trying to eat his oatmeal.  I firmly remind Mike that I am a massage therapist and not an escort. "Yes Sir, I've been a BAAAD panty boy and you should spank my pantied ass!"

There exists in the in the massage therapists arsenal of secret ninja moves, something called the "Still Point Induction". It literally stops the pulse of cerebrospinal fluid flowing from the base of the spine to the skull for a few moments. This has a profoundly relaxing effect. I normally employ it on relentlessly chatty clients. I used it on Mike. It stopped him mid sentence. He fell completely silent for ten minutes and said, "Wow, this is a really good massage. I wasn't expecting this." It occurred to me, doing this to masseurs throughout the Bay Area was also part of his thing. It was probably the first time he actually got a massage. After he left I had deep feeling of gratitude that I don't have to spend a lot of time, energy and money cajoling people into participating in my kinks.

However, what disturbs me is something that Mike said, "I didn't develop this fetish until I was in my fifties." Great, at that moment some interior switch will flip and all of a sudden I'm seized with an irresistible desire to slather myself in Thousand Island dressing and roll around with hamsters I've shaved by hand... I don't think I'll completely shave them though. I'll leave a fringe of fur around their heads to make them look like little lions. Yeah, that's it... hot! I'm off to the pet shop.

Your pal,

Friday, March 05, 2010


I have so much to tell you... but I can't!

Looks like I'm gonna dive into my journal for the first time in years. Since I started this blog?

Recently I logged into my paypal account and found some of you (you know who you are!) had donated some money to me. Thank you so much for that, it means a lot.

Back soon!

Thursday, March 04, 2010

Fraidy Cats Never Forget!

Happy Year of the Tiger---I’m one of you!  I was walking through San Francisco’s Chinatown recently with my friend Ian--- the day before the Chinese New Year and you know how Chinese have personal space issues, like cutting in line or spitting wherever?  Well in Chinatown, locals were blasting random fireworks right in the middle of the busy sidewalk and not just pop-its, mind-you, but full-blown blaring screeching flaming accidentally lose an eyeball fireworks. 

I’m one of the most skittish people I know.  You don’t have to try hard to get me to jump and scream, which is one of the reasons I was such an easy target for bullies back in school.  So in Chinatown, each time a firework went flying crackling past my head or blasted up at me from the curb, I screamed and jumped until finally I lowered myself to shouting this nugget: “Stop doing that!!  I’m a 9/11 survivor!!”

Now I have never used that one before, but it felt kind of good in a wrong kind of way.   
Just last weekend, I was staying in a hotel in Manhattan Beach, just south of LAX.   Far as I know, the only connection between Manhattan Beach and Manhattan, New York is the name.  It’s not like the '49 ers traded a handful of beads to the Apaches for this stretch of upscale sand.

I’m running in the pouring down rain, completely drenched.  The psychology is so deeply imbedded that California and sun are like glitter and fun so I only had on a pair of skimpy shorts and tank top and there I am, frozen.  Stupid!  I’m soaked through, running past the pretty pier and the stormy ocean---it was Manhattan Beach where that I tried for the first and last time to surf (I can’t do anything on a board) and it’s here where my friend Sandy got married.

Passing the civic center, I see these giant damaged, rusty steel beams sticking up out of the downpour.  A plaque beneath them reads “9-11-01.  We shall never forget.”

You had better work your non-existent Manhattan connection, Manhattan Beach!  What's in a name?  A tragedy by any other name would smell just as foul!  How much cash did it cost to haul those corroded beams out here so far from the scene of the crime?   

Like I said, I’m a super-skittish person, but I don’t walk around afraid.  “We shall never forget” implies all the fearful after-effects that day bore.  Though I’m convinced the civic center had lofty intentions with their 9/11 memorial, it must feel good to them in a wrong kind of way.

Monday, March 01, 2010

Totally Tracked Down!

A Canadian company took me out to LA for ONE NIGHT ONLY!  They're doing a reality show on television icons called Totally Tracked Down....and the host Marshall Kaplan (you guessed it!) tracks down television icons via the people in their lives.  They are out in LA profiling (among others) Charlene Tilton, Squiggy from Laverne & Shirley (did you know Squiggy has MS?) and none other than Mindy Cohn!  They wanted to talk with me about her in Violet Tendencies so I flew across the continent to sing her praises!

We had the interview at East/West Lounge in West Hollywood.  I've known the owner Trip for years, he is gorgeous and sweet and has a new Tequila bar in the back!!  Trip splits his time between WeHo and Guadalajara, Mexico, where he became entranced with Tequila. There are photos in his back bar of the whole process, from harvest through distillation, but did you know it comes from a spiky plant called Agave?  The fruit looks a bit like a pineapple, but maybe four times the size.  Trip showed me how to drink a real tequila (it's not just taking shots??) at his bar.   There we are sipping tequila and in between drinking this spicy red palate cleanser called sangrita.  Such an beautiful education! 

Next thing you know, I'm talking to a television crew about how everyone knew that the woman who inhabited Natalie Green on Facts of Life was a big friend of the gays.  Mindy was not only our perfect Violet, she was a trooper.  She once said she was just gonna "tuck and roll" into this production.  I think this is some military maneuver and she used it!  We had her diving into a staircase in central park, wrestling a co-worker onto a cement floor, and changing her wardrobe in the back of a van.  I also spoke about how Violet had to talk about her FUPA (Fat Upper Pussy Area) and that Mindy didn't know what a FUPA was and that Mindy definitely doesn't HAVE a FUPA herself. It's acting, people!!

Wish I could have seen Mindy out there, but she's in a play in Toronto.  In related news, we started a Facebook fan page for Violet Tendencies, so if you're on FB please "fan" it because I can't!  Facebook says I must "remove some friends" before I can friend or fan anything else.  I've been cut off!!  See what happens when you drink tequila??