I’m caught between the upper lip and the whiskers of a strange man. Can’t say why I’m here in this space and time but I know I wanna hang in this moment as long as possible. I know there is stability, there is direction, there is identity. Yes! I wanna ride the ‘stache until I fall asleep for 8 hours straight. Piss in his mouth and roll over instead of getting up. Why because Mustache Man is here for me and I’m here for him.
Mel Street was a country music star who died before his time. Handsome fucker, ain’t he? I really wanted to buy this record but it rang like a lot of middle of the road 70s country music. Kinda dull for this rocker. I am not at the point where I want to spent eight bucks for a hot album cover but this one came close to starting me down that path. Just do me, and Mel, a favor and enjoy his beauty in this old record cover.
If you like spelunking through old vinyl you might know what I’m talking about. Some band photos borderline on some far out Friend Finder profile that I sorta wanna be a part of. Ok not all 70s/80s dudes are “10s” and they were all probably wearing shitty cologne that’s worse than any Axe product on the market. But! You gotta like how frank these photos are. It’s like yer in bed in the band. Kinda freaky!
While flipping through the used vinyl at a local record store, looking for my usual hard rock and bubble gum fare, I came across these two glorious album covers. They maybe a little dated but their point timeless.
I have a dirty secret and, if you are a red blooded American, I bet you have the same one. I wanna fuck Nick Bolton. I first found out about this hardcore stud late at night, watching free digital channel reruns of Star Trek Voyager. He is the spokesman for Bell + Howell, and he’s on all their commercials for “military grade” flashlights, sunglasses, car visors, and cell phone camera attachments. His constant 8 o’clock shadow and butt chin memorized me and took me to a safe place. Later, when I did a web search, I realized he was, and is, so much more! He’s an actor. He works out a lot and knows how to stare endlessly into a camera lens. His well toned pecs and abs speak volumes! Plus he’s willing to throw down in chains, weights and bikini underwear. Whether he’s straight, bi, or, gay, he’s obviously unattainable, and he knows it! To coin a phase “I mean, there’s just nothing like HIM on the market today!”
While jogging through the thrift store today I found a copy of an old record by the band Steam. It contains the amazing soul-rock anthem “Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye” and a lot of other pseudo Motown diddies. Most importantly it’s got some very nice bathhouse images of the band on the front and back cover. What is it about moist young hippies with their sideburns and musky little mustaches that gets me all in kerfuffle? I dunno… I’m pretty sure the band regrets this album cover but I’m also pretty sure a lot of closeted boys in the early 70s were happy with the managements decision on this one.
Yes the flu season was a real Bear this year. If you were one of the unfortunate souls who came down with the virus, it might have felt as if a weighty butt of burly bear wrestler in a singlet was dropped on yer chest, holding you down in bed for the day. Grinding his furry hole through the spandex causing you to cough and moan writhing in pain. Nothing you can do but rest and medicate. When you regain your strength you can roll that Bear meat over and pile drive yer way back to health.
Believe it that I, Mortimer Pye, has sat and pondered this notion, “REAL MEN EAT ASS”(yes in all caps!) In this writer’s humble opinion, there is nothing more beautiful and delectable than a mans butt. Many bottoms have reported to me that most guys they hook up with don’t eat them out proper, if at all, and goddamn it, I think that should change! Thanks to Pervyology.com I can use the power of persuasion, and maybe get a date or two, wearing the “REAL MEN EAT ASS” T-shirt at the next bar night or kink party.
(Read the UMM blog post for more information about Pervyology.com)
Ok Evolution, stop right there! I mean… Can we go back there? Can I get down there? I’m sick and tired of this refined bullshit. Gimme the river, gimme the plane, gimme the forest! But before I get in yer slippery time machine let me grab my guitar, my records, my sketch books and mass produced pens and computers and I’d prolly would like to watch CNN every so often you know… I am SO ready for this retrograde! Hey! Where are you going?
Ever wake up nic-fitting, and you don’t even smoke? Or maybe you do, but it doesn’t seem right? Everything makes you angry, and rightly so! It’s 3am, and nothing is good on T.V. Don’t shout at the walls! Go post a log, deep and long! Give in to your anger lust until it feels ridiculous. Beat off like yer beating a drum, Sooth yourself to the rhythm. Please type the right words, not the wrong ones. Or just do your best, and have fun with it.