You've Got to be Fucking Kidding Me

It's Brian... we met at TKTKTKTK last week, friend of TKTKTKTK.....
How u been?
would be fun to hang some time.
You like suckin cock? I don't fuck unless we get married lol. (ass bang BFs only.)
I shoot a coupla loads in a row, if you like cum, NEG, that works hehe....
We connected a long time back; here's a pic to jog your memory

PORN ST☆R II

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Last Word

Withers: Gay porn performers and the changing media world

The media world, from news gathering to network television, is undergoing a seismic shift. From a fractured audience base to technological advances transforming how images and information can be consumed, what worked in a past age no longer applies.

These overall media currents have not left the gay porn world unscathed. Pornography is produced and sold in ways eons removed from the old days of grandpa’s red light districts. Times Square used to be a piece of real estate where porn reigned supreme. Now that iconic neighborhood is the epicenter for Disney (for a provocative take on this transformation read Samuel Delany’s Times Square Red, Times Square Blue).

With market challenges and the changes in production, porn performers can no longer make the same assumptions models in the past made. There used to be time where a porn star was attached to a particular company. Those type of exclusive contracts are still offered, but more and more porn actors are taking the freelance route, working for multiple studios and websites.

Devon Hunter. Photo by Julian Vankim

“Porn studios don’t really do many exclusive arrangements anymore,” said model Devon Hunter (NSFW). “It’s not practical. That model of doing business isn’t particularly common anymore, and most models are free to go from studio to studio. There’s not enough talent to hoard models, and the companies can’t generally pay enough, or offer consistent enough work to be in a position to make the demand.”

“A lot of performers enjoy being exclusive with one company because it (usually) means they get health insurance and benefits, a monthly, guaranteed salary, and a stable work schedule, Zach Sire, editor of Naked Sword (NSFW) offered in an email. “The downside though is once they come off their exclusive contract, there are some studios that are reluctant to work with someone who’s been so closely associated with a competitor. On the other hand, I’ve talked to numerous models who prefer to be free agents as it allows them the chance to sample a variety of men, and a variety of production environments.”

Zach Sire

TAP TAP TAP That lil' Bugger

One could argue it is best for me to write some things down and save them for a larger piece and shift some of the focus on this blog.

This picture always made me think of labor day:

How Rude!

I Make Banana Cry Now

FUCK MY HOLE

young single dad looking for a guy who has an international lifestyle is busy/ successful and wants a family :) dont have a home, so looking to live anywhere, profile location isnt where I am necessarily ;) instant family with the right guy (have kid)

i get off on the idea of my man fucking me to sleep, and holding me. a man who can be a man for me and a family.

travel is nice, been to 50+ countries, but really want a man with big arms

----

me i am young, playful, sharp, independent, and looking..Shit! I hate looking, dating, and meeting people. Just want to sign on the dotted line, just want that one amazing guy... and want to stick with him! L-ove him. Prefer guys who like to pick up the phone, talk and get the plane to meet, not into chat. I am looking for a man, for the long-term, be a family, move around the world, travel with you. If youre him say so and be aggressive & confident about it. I do not want compliments or encouragement, makes me feel lonely. I like remote places, am not too social. I need a guy who can take charge and support the family. Its about roles, & that works for me.

Ideally we could travel all the time, and revert to homebase. My daughter is 3.

I like long runs in the woods (at night), great dinners in remote restaurants, dive diners, bbq on a fire, cuddlin' on the plane, long drives through wild places, sleeping on the beach, rocking the boat or sitting on a curb next to you.

Looking for a crazy fun, yet very responsible successful guy. I am out of my mind, but have a sharp head on my shoulders. I am reliable and sane, just totally uninterested in a normal life. When I say I will, i am not a minute late.

My daughter and I are a package deal, you get a family! A family is what you are missing. Trust. You'll realize you can trust me. I'll find my passion.

Can be willing, aggressive, successful, playful, stubborn, & hurt.


World is your oyster. You're strong,intense, scary & aggressive,yet kind and endearing. I am all, which makes it harder to love me. You are total man and understand though i am independent, I truly want to depend on you.Settling down in your arms is scary for me but what i want.

You can afford (time&financially) freedom. lots of it.

You get crazy mad in love. You see me on the other side of the room at a party and feel alone with me, you give me that look like that tells me i am about to get it.. hard:) basically you're intense & confident.. a man. -I am.

You get excited about helping me become more successful as I do helping you. We're are a team, you can offer the best, you have everything, but are happy with nothing, like me ;) I too want a partner in life and business.

I want to be really impressed. I'll impress you.

Travel the world with me, love & take care of me and the kid(s), take charge. I can, but need you to. Lets make a home(s) together. I dont care just want to do it with my buddy. Tired of going it alone.

Under the stars or in 7 stars I would like and want to be able to do both with you. I can appreciate good food, and I can appreciate a sharp knife when I slaughter for food. Am that kind of guy. I like to do anything with adventure. I ski (well), scuba dive (advanced), run in the woods(at night), dive off the boat (into deep oceans), i mountain bike, and i love to curl up and cuddle. I want to do it all with you, my buddy.I'll bring the family, energy, playfulness and good times. I am a hard worker, everything i've had was cause i worked for it and people believed in me, I dont come from money. I need someone who can love, protect and provide.I dont want to worry about money, thats your role. Dont worry Ill make lots of it for us too. Be the man for me and the family, and be able to offer an amazing life. I'll do more than my share. Where you leave off, I'll pick up.. I am a very very strong guy. I like alpha male types, I am one too, but would like you to take the helm. I will run from anything that resembles a normal life. I hate shopping & accumulating things. I lived a nice big house, had my two cars, my truck and my kid and a live in nanny... I was so terribly alone and lonely. So i gave it up, and walked away. I'll make a home, but i want to make it with you. Your life better be an amazing one, or you have the means to let me make it an amazing one for us. Need a man who has lived as much of life as I have. Am the type of guy you have to meet to fully understand. My age or older know what you like, and have an amazing life to share. Am not looking for friends, chat buddies, am looking for that one guy.. my guy. Am a farmboy, wild boy at heart. I am lost in cities, social scenes or anything that resembles the masses. Driving my truck through elephants or car&driver are more my style than waiting for a car wash. Want a guy who wants the best for my (our)kids, and can offer it. I want to be that special buddy to a very special guy. You'll be mine. Like I am in my life, you're Very confident in the bed. You're mine, and ill be yours. Dont have a home, just traveling till i find something i like. Age looks etc aren't so important,,,it's about how good you make me want to be, and we make each other feel. You are who you are, not the looks you are born with ;) Yes, me too I get tired, and sometimes look for a place where i can settle down for a bit..with my guy. Most animals dont initially like their mate, am open minded. Something intense, scary and full of love would be good for me;) I need someone who can hold me tight.
________________________________________ ______
All that said, I am very independent. I had a dream once that i was dating a very busy man (columbian drug lord in the dream), who lived a top of a mountain, and who wasn't able to for whatever reason to spend the all the days of the year with me, but we had a deal, when the other called in need, the other came. I think that could work for me too.

________________________________________ __________________________ During, Before and After all the above... I am just a young man looking for love & a partner.

I Know You're Reading This

How many of me are there out there?

CONFESSION TIME

I really love doing porn.  It turns me on a lot.  Why should I feel embarrassed or ashamed that I have gone out and done something that makes me feel great, look great, and I'm having some of the hottest sex on the planet.  and what I mean when I say that, I mean, gives me boners for days, weeks, months later.  Maybe it is the effect of the cult, Treasure Island Media, that I am now part of.  I have been thinking about things in terms of Daddy/Son type ways, and it's kinda like Treasure Island is the daddy, whoring his boys out to all his other boys.  When I was in SF I felt like Cory the whole time.  Cory can do things that Darren wouldn't do.  I've been telling myself to hold onto that feeling and carry it on.  Embrace Cory, don't be afraid of him.  Cory is kindofthe idealized, super slutty, version of me. 

It's hard not to think that this creation of Cory is his mind's way of not dealing with things he deems too painful to deal with, so for him to enjoy himself and relax and enjoy things a bit Cory has to come out and woooooEEEEEEooooooooo.

I Have a Problem with Authority

and I think I've been running away from something my whole life.  The something changes regularly.  Kinda funny, right, that I, of all people, would be afraid of feeling. 

My SF Trip (XXX)

Holy Fuck!  This wasn't so much a trip as it was a mentality, which I guess makes it a head trip?

First off, I will say I roomed wtih Jessy Karson.

Brad McGuire was in the room next door.

Jerry Stearns had some kind words to share with me after we met, the whole studio has been talking about what happened when we met. 

Treasure Island Exclusives are not randomly selected.  It was less like porn and more like sex than anything I have ever done with a video camera and lighting before.

And what can I say about the freedom being on vacation affords?  What happens when you walk into the Treasure Island Media/Naked Sword party at TRUCK you were supposed to be at, thirty minutes, and this immediately happens:

"you know, after our scene was finished, I wanted to fuck you so bad...  I went to your door but I heard voices and didn't want to bother you."

[ed. note: the voice was Jessy Karson, who would not have minded being interrupted, as he would have been happy to share me]

 

 your wish is granted.  no lube, no nothing.  just suck it till it's hard and wet and stick it in.  simple. 

 Sage Daniels is a dream and my biggest regret that weekend is that he only came inside me once.  I would happily be in his crotch for very, very long time.  And don't we look related?  

Brad McGuire is a dreamotherfuckingboat.  The first time (and every time thereafter) he put my head in his armpit, my knees went a little weak and I let out a low lecherous animal growl.  I'm pretty I sure I saw him chuckle a bit (and every time thereafter).  I am helpless.  The iciest, most piercing blue eyes.  Wolfy. 

I like my new family.

And, yeah, the huge poster behind us is Dawson and a puppy.

PORN ST☆R

It's really funny, right, how I feel it's OK to get buttfucked in front of you guys but it's not OK to talk about other things?  Like I'm a role model or something.

So I didn't write anything for a bit.

Now I'm a porn st☆r again.

I should start writing more.  Posting pictures.  Sexy.

I have sex all the time now, sheesh!  It's hot too.  SUPER HOT.  I should be sharing it with people.

I received a text from my sister the other day that she reads THIS VERY blog, which freaked me out. 

The things I post here, sometimes I re-read them, and I myself am shocked by the brutal honesty. 

To think, this is only a tiny fraction of my good behavior.

I am so fortunate to have family that loves me no matter what. 

But at the same time, I don't want to hear about what anyone's business in the bedroom.  I don't talk about my sex life, at least I don't elaborate on it as much as I do here.  Then again, I am not forcing anyone to listen or read.

It has become very clear to me what I have been doing for years.  I have been trying to whittle down the number, and intensity, of people that depend on me for anything.  Cutting my ties, obligations.  I received a text just a few minutes ago from a friend, that I should consider myself family now.  I started to text back, "Don't be surprised when I don't see you or talk to you for weeks, months, or years at a time now!"

Then I decided not to write back.

Shhh. It's a Secret

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Baseball Caps, Large Sunglasses, Wigs, Eyeglasses with Nose and Moustache

I had dinner with my ex-boyfriend/best friend/dad tonight.  We went to the same place we generally always go...  Grand Sichuan, some of the best Chinese in Manhattan, and a few blocks from his apartment.  We've been going there for over four years now together, Pony has been going there since he moved to NYC ten years ago...  It really is the best.  Recently the menus have become leather, bound, and fancy, and the prices have raised.  The robotic, super butch bull dyke Chinese waitresses have stayed the same. 

The restaurant was full of gays tonight.  The last table to be sat was by a hot, buff, dark, short, beardy guy, so Pony and I were on it and paying attention.  When his bespectacled dinner date showed up ten minutes later, and on the phone, he was not pleased.  Pony and I continued to talk and make up stories for every table in the restaurant.  Glasses/phone guy caught my glance twice, directly in the eye.  BAM, he's been staring at me.  OK.  Cool.  Outside the restaurant Pony and I discuss Hotbeardyguy and Friendonphonewithglasses.  I mention Friendonphonewithglasses checked me out.  Pony immediately says, "They recognized you."

"Really?" I wonder.

"Yeah.  It happens all the time," from Pone.

"No way.  I've never noticed people recognize me as Cory."

"It happens all the time.  I know it.  I can tell.  I see it."

I still don't believe it. 

I have a zit.

Do I want to be famous?  If so, why is the "real 'me'" more popular than me?  Does he want to be famous?  Who wants to be famous?  Who wants to be famous more?

Be irresponsible.  Don't make any money.

What is it that makes you tick?

Like.  I could be in jail for doing nothing, really!

I don't think people recognize me.  Depending on length of facial hair, length of hair, styling, specifically contact lenses vs. spectacles and baseball cap, I can be many different stories.  The tattoos are sort of distinctive.  But at the same time, I am always serving up Face.  Really though, I think people don't recognize me because I'm not really anything to recognize, but possibly, by a very small group of gay guys, which is more than I ever wanted to be recognized, I think...

You know this is like a rough draft of something else that I'm going to write later, right? 









 

I am an Addict

Maybe you have guessed I am head over heels in love currently.  My mind is literally exploding with lightning bolt idea after idea.  My lover has left town for work for a few weeks, so I will hopefully be able to execute them all in this time.

I  am returning to my art roots.  He is an artist.  We will make art together.  I have a dream again. 

And of course, it has made me conflicted about my porn career, which seems like it will be taking off again very shortly.  Shocking, right, since I tend to be a total uncompromising (in my morals) bad-ass?

I am making love again.  I forgot how amazing it is.  It's like having sex fucked up on crystal or crack.  I guess this is what is conflicting me:  My sexuality feels so BRIGHT right now, but it seems like male sexuality is becoming increasingly darker and darker.

 I do not equate hot sex with worshiping Satan.  I do not think my cum is the seed of Satan.  I guess part of it is that I do not believe in, well, um, ANY organized religion, but why can't my cum be the sweet nectar that unicorns like to lap up? 

I am aware I have a tattoo of Satan on my arm, but in my world Satan is a very dapper gentleman, perhaps a little fey, and he loves bichon frises. 

Here's a pic of me sucking his big fat dick (as if you had to ask).  It curves a bit up, is wider than it is deep, if that makes sense, and every time I choke on it, get it down my throat, tears streaming, throat slime everywhere, he makes these adorable noises like he can't even believe people can deep throat his dick like that.  And I'm sweating and gagging and gnawing on it with my molars, he kisses me and sucks the spit and precum out of my mouth and spits it back in mine, and it is so sweet and tender
and loving.  I think I'm going to paint it. 

All That!

And I barely got any extra attention!  WAH.  I guess I'll crawl into my bed where my lover lies sleeping.

My Baby Blanket

photo by Paul Sepuya

The Bubble Burst

I find myself practically in a relationship, in love against better judgment, with a boy.  

Shoot went well.  Apparently, I am like a "breath of fresh air."

We had our first lil' tiff, if you want to call it that, tonight.

My boy started complaining how his millionaire father doesn't give him enough money.  I mentioned maybe his dad should have died when he was eight so he could live off the life insurance (until it runs out your sophomore year of college)/(so your mom can buy a new house and promptly move in the boyfriend you hate and the boyfriend's son you hate even more, but the boyfriend's son has a dick, and he wants you to suck it, so you do because you are eleven and hot and horny and it is all you can get.  When you are not sucking your dick you are trying to make his head catch on fire or at least implode... layers of skin fall off to reveal mucles and tendons falling off to reveal bones and joints and...  SLUGS?  THAT IS WHAT WAS UNDERNEATH THERE?  SLUGS?) money, until it runs out before it is convenient for it to run out. 

I started doing that thing that one should never do.  What would my life be like now if my dad had never died.  I would be gay, that is for sure...  but I'm not sure if I would have pushed my boundaries of gayness as far as I did.  I don't think I would have pushed myself so far in any way.  It's so weird to understand my father never heard me play my sax (I studied with a jazz saxophonist for about ten years...  he wanted me to carry on the legacy of old jazz masters like himself) or bassoon (my bassoon teacher, the studio bassoonist for Disney, told me once of a fifteen year old girl [I was sixteen, and slacking hard] who was performing a bassoon concerto.  He told me that I had more musicality in my right pinkie than she had in her entire body and it killed him to know she was getting a concerto and I was fucking my talent away when clearly my future lied in the realm of bassoon, and I should quit sax, quit sports, and devote the rest of my life to this dying art--bassson is considered one of the most difficult instruments to master.  They are as expensive as luxury automobiles, have wait lists, and the craftsmanship of something as simple as a double reed could take a lifetime to master), and I really thought that was where my life was headed until I was sixteen and my house burned down at 4am, my father's birthday...  just a few hours before I was to catch the train to go to all-state honor choir (I was a 2nd bass, and had scored highest from my school.  My voice doesn't really sound good, but my perfect pitch, ability to sight read, transpose keys, etc. but me at a serious advantage).  I gave everything that had to do with music up.  It was not my thing.

Neither was the ridiculously delicious food I was learning to cook, with the opportunity to learn the business of owning a restaurant from the inside out.  It was not my thing. 

I don't even want to talk about the fashion thing.  The dude that moved me to NYC and I decided it was better for me to quit my fierce restaurant jobs and gigs around time as the hot new piece of ass in NYC nightlife to assist him.  That lead to an old, dear, dear friend from Berkeley/restaurant days working at a magazine to get me to intern for that magazine.  Six months later I was hired as Fashion Market Editor, with no experience, no college education, no nothing.  Just.  Something.  I was believed in.  I don't know.  I guess I've had a lot of daddies.  A year later, I'm working with people I idolized when I was a kid and they are asking my opinion about their fashion line; I'm fast on my way to becoming HOT SHIT.  It was not my thing.

If my dad had been there and forced me not to give up, would I have, every time, for either fear of success or fear of failure?

Would my mom still be in the same fucking hopeless threadbare relationship with the same fucking asshole that I still fucking hate (let's not forget his disgusting hairdresser date-raping son)?

Would my sister's husband have killed himself ("this is because of you, bitch [BANG]")? 

Would I have become an HIV+ escort, go-go boy, stripper, and future bareback porn star for the good part of a decade? 

I'M AN ARTIST GODDAMNIT!

Everyone has it.  It's what you make of it, right?

Just for the record, I think I would have ended up owning a successful chain of old-school pharmacies/ soda counter with treats/variety/gift stores, on the lower end, and on the higher end completely changing the way western medicine looks at prescription drugs and drug companies and their role in our continued/future illnesses, after a stint as a symphony musician/cool cat in a jazz band.  At the very least I would have graduated college.

I love you Frankie.  I am not completely sure why, but I don't think I need to know yet. 

If this doesn't work out I will still love you.  I refuse to begin loving anything that I may regret loving/not love in the future.  That is not worth it for me.  If we stop being active lovers, know I still love you all the same.

Is this what I'm really trying to say?

Love is eternal?

Preparation: Meat Scrunchy

It was quite possibly the biggest dick I've ever seen.  I took it like a champ.  Last time I'm having sex or ejaculating before my scene tomorrow.  My mind can rest knowing that my ass can take A LOT.  I forget sometimes there is a reason why I am considered a powerbottom. 

Post-Gym-Time

It's gettin' there...

I Make the Porn

Got a shoot coming up this Saturday for a studio I've never worked for.  Got a shoot coming up Monday for a studio I worked for once but I was only like fist #14 or something.  Exciting, no, that I make the porn?

"Being sleazy is having the ability and the willingness to become whatever is necessary to get what you want. Or, conversely, to somehow make whomever you're with into whatever you want — or need. It implies a very basic malleability of selfhood, a flexibility of identity that's less depersonalizing than it is repeatedly repersonalizing. Take what you're given and make it work. This is the exercise of sleaze."

Christopher Rage

Bad Hair...

great fucking.

That is the title to a post I was writing in reference to my hairstyle in Manplay-17, but I can't figure out how to embed the video here so fuck it.  Hey guys guess what I am having special feelers for someone and right now it's at the point I feel I need to tranquilize myself a little bit just to stand it!!!

That's not really what I'm here to talk about.  I have decided to grow some balls and accept things might be discussed in a bad way but in the end I have to stay true to myself, my character and my self-expression.

I want to be a bad-ass in love.
The inclination is already there.
If there is reciprocation by another bad-ass, even better. 

I was talking to a friend about doing an anonymous cum-dump type of scene, and I said it was not my cup of tea, but I could imagine doing it if I had a lover that was really into it and got turned on by whoring my hole out indiscriminately...  which I immediately said was weird.  My friend asked why it was weird to want someone to look out for you.  I couldn't come up with a good answer.

Everything You Do

Should be done with conviction and confidence. 

The only times you make a misstep are when you think twice where you are stepping.

I realized something tonight:  I have lost the capacity to miss people.  Do we actually lose the ability to feel certain emotions or do we cast them aside when it suits us?  Selective hearing.  This may be redundant but I don't miss missing. 

What do you do when your emotions become a highly efficient angerconverter and any emotion that pops up in you end up expressing itself PISSED OFF?  What if you get part of your strength from your anger, your beast, your self-proclaimed worst enemy, and the world is going to end and only you can save it but you aren't sure if you have the strength and the advice you seek tells you IT IS NOT ENOUGH and to save the world you must embrace your worst enemy and let it become an even bigger part of you? 

If you were Buffy, you'd totally refuse to demonize your heart and soul, bust out of the chains, fight off the old ancient black dudes, and come back to reality thanks to a hot lesbian best friend, only to realize that it is not enough. 

Following this new train of Buffy-thought I have a vision of a hot lesbian witch casting a spell that causes all present and future powerbottoms  to release their full powers all at once... to an all-powerful metaphallus that won't know what it is hitting.   

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And from the looks of your last few weeks' of postings, it looks like the sort of boners you're chasing are the slimy, tattooed, drugged-out, unprotected & poz kind... which, I think we're all in agreement on, you should most-definitely be avoiding!

Slimy, tattooed, drugged-out, unprotected...  are you talking about me?  I've been chasing myself!  Holy fuck!  I've been at the edge of this river for weeks!!! 

new projects

are in the air.  I've been going back and forth (in my head, but not really....  a moment of talking myself out of it here and there) but all it takes is a look at a picture and the reality of it all and I get a boner, and is a boner so bad?

"My fantasy involves two consenting adults well aware of the risks. I can't help that as a neg vers/top I am turned on by the thought of taking a load from a hot poz guy. Can I ask you a hypothetical question? If both parties are aware that the top is poz and the bottom willingly takes the load does it still make it wrong? I just thought that since you have a 'piggy' side you would at least appreciate my fantasy."

Ink Storm with Tober Brandt

This was the second to last scene I shot.

Corey Koon Wrestles!!!

And does me proud. Who would like to see me wrestle?

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So Many Things

I wish I could say here... But I can't. I do not know what is stopping me. Nothing can be worse than what is already assumed about me. So what stops me? Pride? Fear that I will have a worse reputation, that any guy I go on a date with will read the blog and be immediately terrified? People already think I'm shady, but if I didn't hold anything back, well, everyone would think I am shady.

It's amazing how many guys are so freaked out by me before they even meet me. Lately I seem to be torturing myself be being attracted to lil' scruffy tattooed boys in their twenties that live in Brooklyn--a close approximation to myself--yet they are all really cautious and weary of my charms. I do not feel like I am part of my generation. There is certain conformist mentality I see rising up in the young gays, a strive towards hetero-normative ideas and morals, and I do not like it.

I don't think I'm a monster, nor do I think I'm shadier than most. I am just honest about my shadiness and I own it, and that is my problem. It becomes increasingly more difficult to stay honest when I know everyone is lying around me.

Why am I being such a bummer today? I'm actually in a good mood.

Since you guys seem to like porn clips of me... I will look for more out there. They are all really old... I like it that some of you read this without knowing any of my video work. It's cute. OK BYE

Back When I was Famous

check this out...  HIGHlarious.  I just watched it for the first time last night.  I seem so...energetic.  In the unrated version I get doused with everyone's piss...  ChiChi just about had a conniptions when I was started peeing in my mouth and everyone else was pissing on my asshole.  Funny thing is I'm not really into watersports.  I guess I say that about everything and then I go home with a hot guy and drink his pee.  So basically I'm a liar to myself.

I Just Did What I Thought I'd

never do and that is take a posting I had written and published down, but it seemed too whine-y, even for me.  Work is heading my way and I will be very busy soon.  It is very odd--lately I feel like I don't spend as much time with myself as I want, but I am with me all day long...  I am backing into all the door knobs in the meantime...  it's amazing how all it takes is hot sex with a hot guy that I would want to watch to make me want to have more and more hot sex with hot guys...  le sigh.  I am going to start working on that right now.  I cut a year's worth of growth from my head last week.  You can actually see more of my face.  I look younger.  I look like Cory again.  It's kinda weird. 

Finally, I Have a Computer

So I can google myself incessantly, hoping for something else that popped up.  I read up on all the new hot shit porn starts that are way hotter than me and have way more followers, and I get down on myself, and think, hmph, if one of 2007s biggest non-blogged gay porn stories was that I was quitting, espcially after such a promising year, maybe I should not have quit.  I did sortofthesamethinginfashion too.  That hunger is coming back to me finally, to be hot shit, and I think it's happening.  I just went through some heavy cathartic emotions that culminated in the trimming of a year's worth of growth off my head and chin.  I look clean cut, youthful, and, in my opinion, like a fucking pig bottom.

It totally changed things...  my haircut.  I knew it would.  I have been getting it good all week long.  I am  coming to terms with not being vanilla.  Like, every time a dude fucks me and pulls out and shoots all over my hole and pushes some in and out I guess I never think it is weird to get it all in my mouth or ass and clean his dick off till it sparkles.  I always thought it was good manners but apparently it's piggy.  In any case, I found myself apologizing for this the other day.  This is like the time I apologized for drinking this guys pee that I went home with.  Like, if you're down there and someone is pissing, and all the piss is going in your mouth and you are gargling it and slurping it down like a greedy piss pig, you shouldn't say,

"You know, it's so funny I'm doing this because I don't usually do this.  I'm sorry.  It's kinda weird.  But you're just so hot."

You know what I might as well say?

"I am a dirty slut.  Since you are still here I gather you figured that out already."

 The other thing that happens to me during sex that makes me feel slutty is when guys first put their dick in.  So the way I was trained...  pain during anal sex is 95% mental.  If you think a dick is going to hurt your ass, if you think your ass is going to clench down on it, it will hurt.  I had this guy the other day say something like, 

OK, I'm gonna pound you, so you can either relax your hole and enjoy it or tense it up and make it hurt.  Either way I'm still gonna pound the shit out of you.  

So what the fuck do I do?  I ENJOY IT.  So when guys fuck me they expect they have to go all easy at first.  Generally, I become so giddy when I know I'm going to get fucked that my giddiness turns to greediness and I want it all in, to the balls, and squirming around on the base in two seconds flat.  Which makes people think I'm a sloppy whole.  But it's not.  I just have really good muscle control and once I know a dick is going in my ass my ass does everything it can to welcome that dick in.  I also apologize (sorry! in a tiny voice) if I accidentally kick my tops dick out of my ass.  I legitimately think that is really rude.  

Got fucked by another big fat dick today.  That was nice.  I'm starting to like sex again.  And you know what, I'm good at it.

My Computer Broke

BE BACK SOON

NEWNEWNEW

Now I have a crazy hair to start writing a new blog.  As you longtime readers know, I am passionate about food.  To a lesser degree I am also passionate about blogging; however, I have not come across a food blog that I am entirely in love with.  They tend to be written by annoying yuppie breeders or housewives.  It is hard for me to relate to that.  Every now and then I will write a lengthy blog detailing my experiences with food, either eating or cooking, but it has always seemed a bit out of place on this blog, which kinda works with the aesthetic but only to a certain irreverent amount. 

Ladies and Gents, I present you with Cory Kooks!  Get it?  I am clever, and now, delicious.

The Last Paragraph in the Farewell Letter Willie-May Writes to Perry upon His Release from Jail

 from In Cold Blood, Truman Capote's masterpiece I started reading Friday night:

"You are a man of extreme passion, a hungry man not quite sure where his appetite lies, a deeply frustrated man striving to project his individuality against a backdrop of rigid conformity. You exist in a half-world suspended between two superstructures, one self-expression and the other self-destruction. You are strong, but there is a flaw in your strength, and unless you learn to control it the flaw will prove stronger than your strength and defeat you. The flaw? Explosive emotional reaction out of all proportion to the occasion. Why? Why this unreasonable anger at the sight of others who are happy or content, this growing contempt for people and the desire to hurt the? All right, you think they're fools, you despise them because their morals their happiness is the source of your frustration and resentment. But these are dreadful enemies you carry within yourself--in time destructive as bullets. Mercifully, a bullet kills its victim. This other bacteria, permitted to age, does not kill a man but leaves in its wake the hulk of a creature torn and twisted; there is still fire within his being but it is kept alive by casting upon it faggots of scorn and hate. He may successfully accumulate, but he does not accumulate success, for he is his own enemy, and is kept from truly enjoying his achievements."

My Computer is about Kaput

And I am too...  this is the first weekend I have actually put serious thought into moving back home, and it's all due to a passage from In Cold Blood I read Saturday night.  Whoever the bitch was that wrote in comments that I should take a break (PS, I moved into the basement of an old seminary a year ago, bitch [I highly doubt it was Cynthia Nixon's fucking wife, but funny, real fucking funny bitch]) may be right. 

I'm Asking

What if I really liked him?  What if he's a client?  What if he is a creep and I gave him my number out of pity?  What if he reads this blog (PS that totally happens to me all the time--writing about people or situations on this blog and having it bite me in the ass.  I forget sometimes that I am two different people, and when people know my host body and not Cory I will let something slip as Cory and then they know what a trashy ho I am.  Because they had no fucking clue before that.  Christ.  I'm fucked.  Fucked.  Fuck me.)?

I Still Have No Fucking Clue

Do I ask???  Does that diminish how nice it was for us to meet (meat?) each other?

I Am Trying to Piece Together Who it is I Met Five Days Ago

...through this blog, because I honestly have no fucking recollection AT ALL what I was doing five days ago.  Literally.  Honestly.  Or two days back.  No fucking clue. 

Cat Lady

I've recently received kind words regarding the regularity of my blog posts recently, and new press, which of course, has made me dread writing.  I might be too good at it and better to start something new RIGHT?

I'm going a little crazy here.  I forgot to pay my cell phone bill and haven't been able to get my shit together to leave the house till last night.  I deposited all my cash in the ATM but it has not posted yet.  The past couple weeks have had me freaking out on all my friends for no particular reason except to back the fuck off.  I have no money, no phone, just me and my split personalities and my roommate's cats as she is still on her trip to Antarctica.

This solitude is something I created, something I have been working on for quite some time now--to alienate those around me that care.  I don't really like it now that I have it.  I am losing sight of who the real ME is, as I have been so adamant about turning Cory into something more than a porn star.  I'm not sure how much of Cory is me, and how much of me is Cory, which came first, chicken/egg etc.  I guess I kinda like it.

Dudes, and of course I want as many people to read this site as possible (or do I?) but if you are coming here only to hear about my sexual adventures and see some cock and ass you are coming to the wrong place.  There are plenty of porn star blogs that do that much better than I would ever want to.]]

Feeling a little haggard, worn out, and I'm not sure why.  Have I mentioned that since Sunday, I have left my apartment exactly once.  It's kinda creepy.  I'm kinda creepy.  More skeevy thank creepy I guess. 

I am paler than I have ever been.  Seriously.  I get pale and shit.  Photographed next to white people, I look ghost white, while the whities are at least a color, even if it is pink.  Do you have SAD?  I am going to a tanning bed tomorrow, fuck it!

Wow.  I feel so boring.  You guys know I do not advocate the misuse of prescription drugs, right?  I would be on the phone with my psychiatrist trying to get her to switch me to klonopin or xanax but she is reluctant.  I have to explain to her that I am experiencing a "kick-back" when I take ativan--it keeps me up for a bit before it drags me down (not nearly enough).

Tomorrow is going to be a brighter and tanner day.

PS Natural disasters suck.

PPS Here are some photos of me I just found from about four years ago, just to give you something to look at.  See?  I care about you.

 

notice the toe in the corner