"NSFW"

Can we talk about scare quotes, readers? While I don't hate them as much as I hate the greengrocer's plural, I still hate them plenty. I'm thinking about them just now because earlier today, I noticed a spike in traffic. Further investigation revealed that I had been linked to by Durban Bud, who had put my name in quotation marks. To be honest, as long as TJ keeps sucking up to me by calling me a slut, I don't really mind that he puts my nom de net in quotation marks. The real reason for this post is that I was horrified to realize that on the day he linked to me, I had a post up that talked, in a somewhat serious manner, about pornography and medieval literature and that had not a single NSFW picture. How am I ever going to get more Interstate rest stops named after me if people think of me as someone who discusses serious issues, rather than as someone who will write just about anything as an excuse to post dirty pictures? So here are some dirty pictures. This next one, I regret to tell you, has apparently been photoshopped, but since the other pictures are mostly of twinks, I figured I'd better post something more palatable to TJ's fur-loving-submissive-bottom demographic.


Anyway, since we're on the topic of scare quotes, I presume that TJ puts TED inside quotation marks to indicate that it's not my real name. Because, you understand, he legally had his own name changed to Durban Bud: you can probably go to the DC courthouse and find the records yourself. I understand, in fact, that there are at least five or six other bloggers who use a name different from the one that appears on their birth certificates. Scandalous, I know.


By the way, and for the record, I have never had sex at an Interstate rest stop. I am deeply, deeply ashamed of this fact, but I have never been good at having sex in public. If God had meant for us to approach strangers in toilets for sex, he wouldn't have created craigslist or gay.com. Don't believe me? Look what happened to Larry Craig.


And while I'm pretending that I have logical transitions between totally unrelated topics, what the fuck is it with all of these pictures I see lately of twinks with huge cocks? I presume that they're not all photoshopped. I understand that the camera angles and the relative hairlessness and the trimmed pubes all combine to make the cocks appear larger than they are, but still: WTF?

I have to admit that, in general, I don't think twinks are good for much other than visual appeal, but isn't the whole point of a twink that he has a cute ass that you can eat while he's going down on you until he begs you to fuck him? Maybe not. Maybe I missed the memo. Anyway, visually, I think most of these guys would look better with smaller equipment. But, hey: chacun à son goût, I reckon.


Still, I suspect a more nefarious explanation. We all know that the use of HGH to turn ordinary adolescents into professional athletes is on the rise, so I figure there are conversations like this going on in doctors' offices around the country:

Dr. Hung: I'm sorry Mr. Smith. We can give Timmy another course of growth hormone, but it's unlikely that he'll ever be strong enough to compete in any professional sport.
Mr. Smith: That's unacceptable, doctor. Surely you can do something.
Dr. H: Well, I didn't want to mention it: it's a very controversial therapy.
Mr. Smith: What is it? We'll try it!
Dr. H: Well, there is a treatment involving a combination of herbs, injections, and appliances designed to add an extra two to four inches to Timmy's penis.
Mr. Smith: I don't understand...
Dr. H: Do you know what a gay male porn star can earn during his peak years, Mr. Smith? If we can get him to eight-and-a-half inches and you start him at eighteen, he can easily pull down five figures for each weekend film shoot. To say nothing of the income he can earn escorting and stripping. It's all tax-free, and there are no pesky regulatory authorities to stop you taking all of his earnings for yourself. What do you say? Shall I write the prescriptions?
Mr. Smith: We'll do it, Dr. Hung. Anything to help Timmy realize his dreams.


And then, overcome by the obvious love for his son, Dr. Hung bends Mr. Smith over the examining table and spends half an hour trying to enlarge his prostate. It's no wonder our health care system is in crisis.