You know I fucked his straight mother-fucking ass

Child please, ain’t no such thing as a straight man. Straight to the next dick, mother fucker. Case in point, and I don’t repeat stories, so pay attention.

Honey, I was leaving Esquiltas the other night, and I was looking fierce- you know a bitch don’t hit the club till her shit looks tight. Anyway, I was trying to catch a cab, in my 5 “ Fredrick’s heels and my best honey blonde weave, and it was not happening. This man pulled up, right there on 10th Avenue, and offered me a ride in his hummer with the Jersey plates. He was a FINE ass piece too- swarthy dark looks, stubble, and yes, a wedding ring on that finger. I am no fool honey, I got the fuck in.

I had to keep from rolling my eyes during the ride as he told me all about his wife and she don’t ‘get’ him, bla bla bla. Mmm hmm, whatever. I just wanted to get back up to Washington Heights already. He kept looking at me sideways, and asked if I was a model. A model? For what, Popular Mechanics? I was at least 40 pounds heavier than he was! Then I felt his hand on my leg. Awwww shit…

We pulled over off of West End Avenue, onto a quiet street. Bitch, I pulled down my leather micro mini and my pantyhose, and unleashed the beats. This ‘straight dude’ bent over and sucked my uncut dick so fast I thought he’d get whiplash! ‘Suck my pussy stick!” I told him, and he did. Ooh, child, this one had practice. He was kicking off his sweatpants and his white BVDs without his hands. “mmm so pretty” he mumbled with my lady cock in his mouth. I reclined the seat back, and married man climbed up on me, not facing me, and positioned his juicy, hairy ass cheeks over my tool. He eased down on it slowly, then got into a hot rhythm, riding my girly meat. “Fuck me Clarissa!” he shouted. Who the fuck was Clarissa? Who cares? I pounded that Greek ass with all my drag queen energies, and slapped it for good measure. I busted a tranny load right up in that mother fucker. He drove me home in silence, ass full of jizz, naked from the waist down.

It was hot, but maybe not worth it. I lost a fucking earring in that car, and that shit was cubic zirconia!

I Saw The Kim Kardashian Sex Tape And You Didn’t

Just so you don’t waste $30 on watching a failed rapper and a half-famous pseudo-socialite have sex, I will tell you what you’re missing:

• Ray J.’s dick is pretty hot, it’s one of those cocks that sort of scoff at penile symmetry: a bit crooked to the right, an extremely thick vein all the way across it. I’m guessing it is a good 8.5 inches, cut.
• They bareback! What’s up with straight people thinking they are immune to stds? And they could even get pregnant too. Double whammy.
• Kim Kardashian embodies the stereotypical hetero female in a relationship: her “no’s” mean “yes”, her orgasms are pathetically fake and she is constantly performing – feigning shyness and disinterest. As if she is taking no pleasure in being a complete whore. When she is actually more of a freak than Ray J. While he just does his thing quietly, she is the one talking dirty (“Are you gonna cum right inside this pussy? I want you to fuck me hard until you cum”).
• Kim is such a lazy bottom! She makes no effort whatsoever. She just lies there, heiress-like, getting her pussy eaten, shouting the occasional “you’re gonna make me cum, baby” to let him know she hasn’t fallen asleep.
• Ray J. is one of those interruption-prone tops. You know, those tops who fuck you real fast, but then stop all of a sudden to do some unnecessary thing like make out with you or something. We'd get us a versatile if we wanted to kiss! Or a bottom, if we wanted "affection". Totally kills the mood. At that point, they should know to only stop pumping after pulling the hair, spitting on the face and having called us at least three nasty names (such as "cunt", "fucking bitch" or "faggot" -- my fave).
• Ray J. is not a boob guy. Although he spends a considerable amount of time eating Kim’s punani, he never once sucks on or even touches her tities. Which, even I would have done.
• The tape by Vivid Entertainment is a rip-off. Divided in 8 parts, half of which is just the same shots from the first parts repeated with different sound bites we already heard. Surprisingly, its most entertaining parts are the couple’s non-sexual candid moments in the hotel rooms, airplane and the beach. Specially if you don’t have a life, it’s quite fascinating to have a look into how strangers canoodle and play the love game.

For more Diego click on Don Diego Online

Poppers and Movies

I am at it again with the straights...yes, the roomies. I love them, but like most straights they are totally in the dark about sex. My boy and I recently introduced them to poppers like it was the first day of school.

Picture this, Sicily 1968..no, wait...I'm not Sophia from The Golden Girls! I can't help the gayness. Picture this, Washington Heights, 2 straights and 2 gays enjoying some booze and a movie. We're all completely buzzed and I brought up butt sex. Big shock. Anyway, we (the gay team) started talking about poppers and how WONDERFUL they are! I want to let the inventor just fuck me, they are so goddam amazing.

The straights had never heard of poppers (another big shock). My boy and I decided to let them in to the inner circle. We brought them to the Blue Store in Chelsea and showed them the world that is gay sex toys and accessories. They were in awe. They came. They saw. They bought the Jungle Juice Platinum.

The next night, we are sitting around with booze and movies again. Girlie roommate ( I mean the actual girl, not me) says, "The poppers didn't work last night". Femmey rommate (yeah, that's me) says, "I'm sure you weren't doing it right. Show me what you did.". Girlie pulls out the poppers and takes the whimpiest inhale ever!. Femmey takes out his stash and takes a big ole whiff. Girlie copies femmey and now both are in gay bliss on the couch. Soon enough the boys follow suit and we're all drinking wine, watching movies, and doing poppers. Just another Saturday night in the City.

Morning time! Girlie comes out the bedroom exhausted. Looks at femmey and says, "yeah, they work."

BigGayApple.com at the Grab Ass Party in Chelsea

BigGayApple.com hosts Mikey and Jason attend the Grab Ass party in Chelsea.

Watch the video clip here....was that Benny Hill in the background with a lawn chair?

The next Grab Ass party is this Wednesday, March 28.

Go to www.CumMonkey.com for more details.

The GLBT Expo at Jacob Javits this weekend..

I'm a cheap date.

Cheap, as in, like ZERO dollars, and I'll give you some "mangina".

I met this hot and hairy daddy-type at Nowhere in the East Village on Friday night, CRUISING....so fucking amazing. I LOVE hairy guys....and Nowhere was FILLED with the FUR!

Like, when hairy guys stay over and use the shower, then the bathroom drain gets clogged...

SO FUCKING HOT!!

Anyway, I live in Weehawken, and like, there's nothing to do on a Saturday afternoon, anyway. I usually start drinking at two at the Hanger on Christopher Street, but he invited me on a "date" after brunch at the GLBT Expo at Jacob Javits.

I'm like "what ev...", I got nothing else going on....it cost nothing and you get all this free stuff.

You go in and there's drag queen on stilts from Atlantic City handing out salt water taffy....I ate it.

My mother always told me not to take candy from strange drag queens....but shit, if she only knew what else I put in my mouth.....nevermind...

Anyway, there was like ALL this FREE alcohol, in like little martini glasses. FAB!

Daddy's taking me to each one of the booths. I'm drinking, drinking, drinking...I'm a Latino twink, I only weigh like 110 lbs, so soon Daddy's holding me up.

More drag queens, more alcohol. I think I rode a bucking bronco. I think I bought a Toyota Prius.

I can't remember.

All I remember is waking up in Daddy's bed Sunday morning with cum on my ass.....and a lot of hair in my mouth.

I LOVE NEW YORK!

Watch Mikey from BigGayApple.com at the Woof Party Here!

Black Party Scat Extravaganza

In Psychology 201 they tell you parents must teach their kids to love their turds, "because it is their first belonging", something that comes out of their own body. So you're supposed to teach your toddler to say "good bye, mr. poop" every time they flush it down the toilet. Well, apparently some Minnesotan fags get so attached to their turds they take it out dancing when in the big city.

Sources are telling us that at the Black Party last Saturday, March 23, someone SHAT on the dancefloor. Yes, some Midwestern Meth queen got so tweaked out of their faggoty mind they just straight up took a shit in the middle of the club. Apparently people thought some nasty fag hag had released gas, but then they saw the big pile of dump sitting there. What do we need, port-o-potties on the dancefloor now?
If you party with assholes, you'll have to deal with shit..., as they say.

We all know fags are stuck on the anal phase (some more than others), I mean, who in their right non-faggoty mind would rationally make the case for ass-eating? Placing your wide-open mouth up the most pathogen-infested orifice known to the human body. One just can't rationalize such act. But in the heat of the moment we just forget that what we are actually feasting on is the bodily equivalent of a trash shoot.

Nothing against rimming, I mean, in the absence of pussy, one just has to go for the asshole, right. But excreting turds in a public place is taking the whole "pig" scene to a non-acceptable level. And I personally have this thing against using poop as anything other than flushable material. Probably because when my sister was 4, she shat her pants and decided to paint the ENTIRE bedroom (we shared) using her light beige excrements. It kinda stunk, and traumatized me.

At the Berkeley Parents Network forum, playing with poop sure is a popular topic for discussion. Someone's two-year-old does it every single time she goes down for a nap or to sleep. Someone recommends duct taping the poor child's diapers onto her body. Cuz that's not gonna traumatize the little dyke-in-training or anything. Or make her into a human poop bomb.

Some other hetero's kid "just squishes it in his hand" and "smears himself with poop from head to toe." Scat Queen at the age of 2 already!

If you don't believe us, watch this VIDEO.

Butter's in the Fridge

I like to play jokes on my poor stupid straight roommates. Yes, I live with straight people; pick up your jaw..I know. We've all been friends for like 10 years so it's actually fun and they're both kinda gay in a straightish way so it makes sense.

I like to add a touch of fairy to their lives by sharing my gayness with them. I feel it helps straight people (especially couples) become more interesting and they will have great conversation pieces for their next cocktail party with the Johnson's in Tribeca.

I love Boy Butter! Mostly because it's a non-sticky solution to lube. It's sort of like lotion for the motion and doesn't stain. The best part is that the container looks exactly like "I can't believe it's not butter"..trust me, it's not butter. I decided to test this creative packaging with true terrestrials yeah, the straights) and I put in it in the fridge (replacing the regular buttery spread). I then hid in the cupboards and waited for my subjects to approach. Sure enough, they buttered their buns with my ass lube. And ate it. Well, almost...ya know, straights don't know anything about swallowing. I then jumped out of the cabinets and yelled, "ha! you've been gayed

It's a fun apartment. I think they're planning retaliation though...as if.

How to Use Your HAG as Sex Bait

So, I decided long ago that I don't do gay men, only bi curious and straights. Like, if you don't also eat pussy, you have no business eating my ass. And if you want to cheat on me, fine, as long as it is with a girl.

Except that it's hard to get straight men to fuck fags, because they've been conditioned to think they should only fuck women. (As if fags weren't women). Anyway, so last summer my fag hag and I were sitting at home bored (braiding our hair, day-dreaming we were Jessica or whatever), and it hit me: adding a girl to the equation has got to make straight men more comfortable with fucking a fag. Plus, hags have got to be able to perform more tasks other than holding our tank tops at the club, asking random dudes if they are tops or bottoms and keeping track of our carb intake.

So, to convince the hag to serve as sex bait I had to intellectualize the scenario in a way that made it seem like she was gonna benefit from this. Not me, I was just being altruistic. And you know hags, they'll believe anything fags tell them as long as we tell them they're pretty afterwards.

So I made her post on Craigslist something to the effect of: "You can fuck my pussy, but you gotta fuck my fag first". And, I shit you not, her inbox was FLOODED with hundreds of hot straight men willing to come over and do us both. We had to keep up with the demand, so we couldn't just host one guy at a time -- we had to bring them in groups. Like Hollywood week on "Idol". And to the hag's astonishment, she quickly became that threeway dud, cornered on the edge of the bed, untouched and unwanted, watching these tattooed "straight" brothas from the Bronx work my nipples, feet and underarms.

But, then, I reminded her that she "liked to watch", so she was actually the one benefiting from it all. I was just doing her a favor.

ROCK BOTTOM: Gay Men and Meth

Directed by Jay Corcoran
Playing at Quad Cinema (34 West 13^th St.)
Showtimes: 1:00 2:40 4:20 6:00 7:40 9:50

The most striking thing about this doc on gay New Yorkers who’ve fallen victim to the mind-numbing forces of “crystal sex”, isn’t what it says about its subjects. But what it says about its audience. The film serves as stark reminder of the gap of consciousness between gays and straights. While tales of meth binges have become commonplace in gay circles (“Meth is the new weed”), they will sound as anything but banal to heterosexual eyes.

Which brings about the metaphysical question of whether or not real life never seems actually real unless it is witnessed by the heterosexual/hegemonic gaze. Gays may be doomed to self-flagellation as long as they cave in their own sexual eremite caves of self-sufficiency (high speed Internet connection, a room of one’s own and some party favors), away from heterosexual reality to serve as moral compass.

The problem is that adding drugs to an already confusing sense of self proves to be recipe for an existential bomb. A bit like allowing two different kinds of parasites into one’s body that get acquainted, fall in love, learn to co-exist and never let the other go.

While “Rock Bottom” is, structurally, pretty mediocre, the issues it sheds light to couldn’t be more urgent. A public service announcement of sorts to a generation of gays grown uncannily accustomed to emotional masochism and borderline bestial satisfaction.

It is also a more intimate experience for New Yorkers to watch the film, as we recognize local spots and familiar faces: such as the self-delusional Meth-addict-in-training J. – an ubiquitous New York nightlife gogo-dancing figure.

The film is preceded by the horridly campy short “Karen Black Like Me”, by David Briggs, about a sexually repressed geek who gets attacked by an oversized dildo and an overbearing mother from Long Island.

The 10 Types of Craigslist TRICKS

Which one are you? Or which one did you get stuck with last time?

1. The Trick That Will Not Leave: You start making the bed, putting the lube away, texting your hag, but they just will not leave. This kind of trick is either new to New York and, therefore, unaware of the rules of thumb of Internet hook ups (i.e. leave as soon as you cum), or they just think they fell in love with you. Well, guess what, you didn’t.

2. The Poppers Sniffer: I am a pretty open-minded person, and if you really have to snort some sort of trashy chemical into your brain in order to perform that is okay. But not if you have to do it every three seconds! It interrupts the pumping and ruins the mood. This one Colombian trick was such a poppers addict he even said “My friends make fun of me all the time because I do them so much”. Uh, not only you cannot have intercourse without poppers, but you publicize that to your friends? Yeah, you are a real winner, clearly.

3. The Liar: I am not sure which is more pathetic: the fucktards who send 30-pounds-old photos of themselves or the irrationally horny idiots who don’t close the door on their faces once they get come in the bedroom.

4. The Faggie Top: guys, it is not that hard, but jot it down if you have to: being a top is not just about sexual position, it is about identity. So if you act like a girl you are NOT a top. If know fashion you are NOT a top. If you go to graduate school you are NOT a top. If you live below 110th St. you are NOT a top. If you go to gay bars you are NOT a top. If you suck dick you are NOT a top. If you moisturize you are obviously NOT a top. And if you roll your eyes like a girl you are NOT a top either. So stop the false advertising and hook up with those versatiles, they won’t mind your ersatz self-entitlements.

5. The Sudden Barebacker: it’s amazing how quickly they go from “safe sex only” to “anything goes”.

6. The Demanding Trick: “can I have a wet towel?”, “do you have any tissue?”, “is that the only lube you have?”, “Do you have a cock ring?”, “Can I have some water?”, “Do you have any alcohol?”, and the killer: “What kind of phone do you have? Can I borrow your changer?”

7. The “I don’t have a bathroom at home” Trick: what’s up with that? It’s not like you came from Staten Island. Why do they have to ask to use “your bathroom” right after hello?

8. The Silly Trick: the one who thinks he will see you again.

9. The Nomad: listen,I know you came from Jersey but this is Manhattan, don’t bring your lap top bag, your NYSC backpack, three layers of winter gear and your manpurse in my 10x10 room.

10. The Prissy Trick: he acts all shocked when he pulls out and there’s a quarter of a turd hanging off the condom. Dude, you just stuck 9 inches of limb up somebody’s asshole! What do you expect, Pollyanna.

(Image source: "Watersports - 48" ad from Craigslist 03/09/06 Piss Play)

Just Spotted!

Recent divorceé and fag hag institution Reese Witherspoon, walking on Houston St., between Mott and Elizabeth in NoLiTa. Girlfriend was looking fierce, hiding behind huge black shades and a ginormous trench coat that all but buried her.
Not sure if the surprisingly slimmer starlet was in our 'hood checking out some Tori Burch clutches or chowing down them classic, I-need-dental-floss-right-now Cafe Habana grilled corns. Either way, poor Reese, donning the black and somber outfit, was probably still mourning the oh-so-shocking discovery that Ryan was a fag after all. (How many straight men do you know perch their lips like that, Reese?). It's ok, bitch, all hags have to go through the "I've dated a closet case" phase at some point for credibility sake. Now you know!