Speedos pour Le Cote d’Azur

I love the South of France.

Women go topless and no one really gawks at them.

The food is sublime and the Mediterranean changes color throughout the day and night.

Pure paradise, except during ‘le Grand Depart’, when tens of millions of French and Germans and Scandanavians and Brits pile into their cars for a vacation of the eternal Cote d’Azur. Most are drawn to the beaches and every day men slip into their Speedos and even skimpier bathing gear.

Speedos by Fabo.

A cod piece.

My friend Dave was in Antibes. My longtime friend called to gloat and I asked, “Are you wearing Speedos?”

“Why would I wear Speedos?” ughed Dave.

“For some action.”

The South of France was renown for one-night stands and even-shorter liaisons.

No Speedos.”

“Suit yourself, but even Pablo Picasso wore Speedos.”

The dead painter had a museum in Antibes.

“Yeah, right.” Dave chortled a laugh and hung up. He could afford to be happy on the Cote d’Azur, while I sat on the roof of the Fort Greene Observatory. At least I know one thing.

Pablo Picasso wore speedos.

And I’m not beyond going au natural in Goa.

Alive For Ever

Last year I was in London. A friend invited me to lunch at the Worseley, a well-heeled Mayfair eaterie. My friend was late. He dealt in expensive paintings by dead people. I ordered a draft beer in the bar and watched the people entering for lunch. A tall well-dressed older man was greeted by the maitre’d with utmost deference and with good reason. The gaunt guest was the actor Christopher Lee. Everyone’s eyes followed the famed Pop portrayer of Dracula to his table.

Dignified, as would be expected for the game master.

Sadly Christopher Lee passed from this life in early June, however judging from the pair of men bracketing the painter, Tristam, Mssr. Lee had many imitators.

But only one living legend of Dracula.

Dead in life or alive on the screen.

Christopher Lee.

A Long Walk Through Brooklyn

The other evening I showed up to the Hotel McCarron for a vodka tasting. I had consumed a half a marijuana edible before getting to the rooftop event. My hostess greeted me. She had work to do and I sidled up to the bar for a few vodka-cocktails. The edible kicked in hard and quick. The young PR flack came over and whispered in my ear, “Are you drunk?”

“No, just fucked up.” I didn’t say on what. Kala was a reformed sinner and I preferred to keep her wondering, but this was her job and I exited from the fete onto North 12th Street.

I thought about taking the subway, then slid into a wall. A long walk would wear off the effects of the edible and I set off down Bedford toward Fort Greene. A group of men dressed as cows were posing for cameras. A girl ran across the street. Billy’burg was coming to life for the night.

Afros were very in.

Hydrants too.

And hats also stores, but I only had $10 in my wallet.

I kept on walking.

Williamsburg had been colonized by the hipsters and upper-class bankers, however graffiti marked the borders of the latino barrio bear the bridge. Economic cleansing was never 100%.

Wires ran across the sky.

The street got empty again.

Runaway puppets watched the sidewalk. They had scary eyes and I walked faster past the abandoned dolls.

The summer sun was setting in the west. The streets were in line with the solar system. Tonight Saturn would dance over the moon. I slowed my pace and took a couple of breaths. The edible was wearing off blood vessel by blood vessel. Fort Greene was farther away than my first estimate and I passed several bars without any temptation. I wanted to get home.

A woman’s high heels hung over the wire mocking the nearby sneakers.

They had all seen better days.

Vacant lots were few.

Property was hot in Brooklyn.

The realtors promised condo buyers a piece of paradise.

Grass grew from the cracks.

The hydrants were strictly for show.

But everyone young wanted to live here.

They would live anywhere.

With anyone.

New York was a hard place to make it alone in 2015.

Less people lived south of the Williamsburg Bridge.

Mostly Hassidim.

They liked to keep to themselves.

No one was on the sidewalks.

Just some dead bikes.

An empty baseball field.

Even the big Hassidic shetl was silent and I wandered down to Kent Street.

The sun was setting past the east River and beyond the Hudson. I watched the sky change color. The breeze carried the scent of the sea on the night tide. I took a deep breath and got a rush from the edible. It was really strong, but Fort Greene was only fifteen minutes from here.

The flowers showed life.

The crashed car had no blood on the seat.

The parking under the BQE was a desert and I hurried up to DeKalb and over to Fulton where I ran into a friendly face.

Mike of Brooklyn Moon.

It was good to be back home, especially when you’re high instead of drunk.

The Importance Of Size


Judging from the number of spam emails that I have received over the years about adding length and girth to a penis, I would have to assume that the typical porno-surfing male’s sense of inadequacy is much greater than their anxiety of hair loss, obsession with obesity, and fear of impotency. Most online XXX films feature male performers possessing truly biblical Staffs of Moses. These seemingly impossible proportions are the goal of many men purchasing pills, pumps, and medical herbals from internet sites to enhance their girth and length.

I’m happy with the size of my penis, but just once I would like to hear a woman say, “Not with that you don’tť.”

Many women say that size doesn’t matter.

Last year I was at the Welkom Inn on Soi 3 in Pattaya. The girls there see a lot of action.

When asked if they liked big the most popular girl said, “I like small and fast too. Not hurt. And not take too much time.”ť

Another libertine admitted, “Sometime when really horny. I like big. Good. But can’t work later. Small better.”ť

This doesn’t prevent them from massaging the male ego.

The fellatio expert says, “Man always love to hear he have big penis. If not big, he believe big you tell him big. Stupid kwai.”

My cousin Sherri did over 2000 XXX films, professed, “Size isn’t important. Well, if it’s a cashew then it’s a problem, but otherwise most girls in the industry like a normal penis. Nothing too awe inspiring. And quick too. Guys with bog ones, not many of them know how to use it, plus when a guy with a giant cock gets an erection most of the blood leaves his skull so he grunts like a caveman. Gimme a nice Irish or Jewish guy any day. Cut too.”ť

Of course there’s the old joke about the size of President Clinton’s penis.

“How do we know that Clinton has a big penis?”

“It had to be big to get beyond Paula Jones’ nose.”

The presidential mistress had a huge honker, but Clinton was no John Holmes.

So there you have it.

Here is a list of the average male Erect Penis Lengths for 10 species;

1. Humpback whale 10 ft.

2. Elephant 5-6 ft.

3. Bull 3 ft.

4. Stallion 2 ft 6 in.

5. Rhinoceros 2 ft.

6. Pig 18-20 in.

7. Man 6 in.

8. Gorilla 2 in.

9. Cat 3/4 in.

10. Mosquito 1/100 in.

One more thing, an ejaculation is never premature as long as you get it in.

The Rules of Modern Manhood

During my last sojourn to Pattaya I was sitting with Fenway’s mom and several Thai women. They extolled my eating spicy food. I mentioned that most Thai men don’t eat food dosed with chili. The two nearby Thai men argued, “Kin pet dai.”

“So you eat sum tam?” I asked about the fiery mango salad.

“Can eat.” Mam was proud of my dining prowess.

“Thai men can eat spicy food.” One of Mam’s friends said pointing at the two Thai men. They were typically too macho. “Only gay men can’t eat aharn pet.”

I decided to follow this sweeping generalization with another.

“That means all farang men are gay because they can eat spicy food.”

“Not you. Khun kin dai.” Mam knew that I was all man. We had sex oftne, but she had never caught me watching ladyboy porno. I suffered no pangs of homophobia or glua gai, then again because of the massive changes in society no one knows what who might be gay, however there are some new rules sent to me by a good male friend

1: Under no circumstances may two men share an umbrella.

2: Any Man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally killed and eaten by his buddies.

3: Unless he murdered someone in your family, you must bail a friend out of jail within 12 hours.

4: If you’ve known a guy for more than 24 hours, his sister is off limits forever unless you actually marry her.

5: Moaning about the brand of free beer in a buddy’s fridge is forbidden. However complain at will if the temperature is unsuitable.

6: No man shall ever be required to buy a birthday present for another man. In fact, even remembering your buddy’s birthday is strictly optional. At that point, you must celebrate at a strip bar of the birthday boy’s choice.

7: On a road trip, the strongest bladder determines pit stops, not the weakest.

8: Only in situations of moral and/or physical peril are you allowed to kick another guy in the nuts.

9: Unless you’re in prison, never fight naked.

10: Friends don’t let friends wear Speedos. Ever. Issue closed.

11: If a man’s fly is down, that’s his problem, you didn’t see anything.

12: Women who claim they “love to watch sports” must be treated cunts until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the ability to drink as much as the other sports watchers.

13: Never hesitate to reach for the last beer or the last slice of pizza, but not both, that’s just greedy.

14: Never join your girlfriend or wife in discussing a friend of yours, except if she’s withholding sex pending your response.

15: Never talk to a man in a bathroom unless you are on equal footing: i.e., both urinating, both waiting in line, etc. For all other situations, an almost imperceptible nod is all the conversation you need.

16: Never allow a telephone conversation with a woman to go on longer than you are able to have sex with her. Keep a stopwatch by the phone. Hang up if necessary.

17: The morning after you and a girl who was formerly “just a friend” have carnal, drunken monkey sex, the fact that you’re feeling weird and guilty is no reason for you not to nail each other again before the discussion about what a big mistake it was occurs.

18: It is acceptable for you to drive her car. It is not acceptable for her to drive yours.

19: There is no reason for guys to watch Ice Skating or Men’s Gymnastics. Ever.