Porn Watcher

Yesterday I went to lunch at a trendy bistro with a couple of my coworkers. We were in a booth chatting when three people arrived and were seated next to us. I was facing the door when they made their entrance and immediately found one of them strangely familiar. I couldn’t place him, but somehow I knew I knew him. A feature film is currently being filmed in town, so at first I thought it might be a familiar supporting player or even a movie star I couldn’t quite place. He was tall, very muscular and, I would guess, around 45. He had naturally blonde hair that had been frosted even blonder on the top. His face was slightly more aged than I was used to, but he was someone I had seen before, I felt certain.

The man and woman accompanying him were much younger than he. I suppose they were in their early twenties and both quite attractive. The three of them sat in the booth behind my coworkers with the blonde guy facing me, so I was looking at his face full on. It occurred to me in a flash that this might in fact be straight porn star Brick Majors.

Brick Majors

That startled me quite a bit. I kept sneaking glances at the guy, trying not to catch his eye or to make him think I was cruising him. Every time we was involved in chatting with the younger couple, I studied his face as best I could. Majors, never one of my favorite porn stars, was a standard fixture in adult films ten years ago, but I would often fast-forward through his scenes. Sure, he was a beefed up muscle stud, but I always found him uncompelling and often kind of a dull fucker.

Mr. Majors in Action

But, he was a nineties porn icon, and so his face (if not his cock) is burned into my memory. Looking at this guy, I became convinced I was looking directly at the famed Brick. His face had weathered a little, but it was still the same, the bizarrely tinted hair was the same, and the fake tan was exactly the same.

To answer your obvious question, no, I did not approach him to discover if my identification facilities were on target or not. I mean, what if it wasn’t him? What would I have said? How can I ask a complete stranger, "Are you a washed-up porn stud from ten years ago?" I’ll never know if Brick Majors was sitting across from me yesterday afternoon or not, but my fantasy life sure got kick-started.

The city I live in is not exactly a hub of activity, so I had to ask myself what the fuck would Brick Majors (if it was, in fact, him) be doing here? We all know there are literally limitless possible answers, but here’s the one I came up with: Warning! This explanation has no basis in fact or reality! But it does turn me on.

What if, since retiring from porn, Brick has become an escort specializing in servicing couples? What if the young people he was with at the restaurant wanted to spruce up their sex life and so, after scouring the online swingers ads, had rented an experienced and famous porn star to help them out with their first jealousy and guilt free three-way? They flew Brick here, picked him up at the airport, and now were having a get-to-know-each-other lunch before heading back to their apartment to get naked, jump in bed together, and give the sexy young woman the first (and best) gang fucking of her life. I have to wonder if they would have been disappointed by Brick’s somewhat "older than the pictures in the advertisement" face? I don’t know. But I wish I could have been there, sitting in an armchair in their bedroom, masturbating and watching as the three of them became hot and sweaty sex pigs.

I wouldn’t have fast-forwarded through that, I swear.

It must be apparent to anyone who reads this blog with any regularity that I’m the kind of guy who likes my porn visual. I want to see images, pictures. They can be moving or still. They can be color or black and white. They can be straight or gay. But I want my details visually. I want to see every hair and every drop of pre-cum.

So you might be surprised to learn that lately I’m starting to read sex stories online. I’m finding it incredibly erotic, and it allows my imagination to run rampant. I imagine the characters to be the hot guys I know or have run into on the street or at the gym. Even when the description doesn’t quite match up to my fantasy guy, I still use him as the star of the movie in my mind.

I should say, I suppose, that one of my first exposures to porn was literary. A school buddy let me borrow a cheap sex novel he had gotten I don’t know where. It was called Randy Young Run Away, and it was just as good as the title implies. It was a straight porn novel, but very kinky. It dealt a lot with bestiality, which when you’re young and impressionable can make quite an impact. Do all adults have sex with animals? I wondered. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get into that. I vividly remember the most disturbing description was of a woman who spread her legs, allowing a snake to crawl inside her, where (and I quote) "… it was never seen again." Well, that right there was enough to put me off women for the rest of my life!

When I was eleven or twelve I found a book called The Happy Hustler. I don’t recall the author’s name (and if you know it, please tell me. I’d love to get another copy and reread it.) It was the male version of Xaviera Hollander’s best seller The Happy Hooker. Like Ms Hollander’s tome it was autobiographical, telling the life-story of a young, attractive bisexual man (the author) who worked his way up from hungry street hustler to owning and running his own all-male whorehouse with a clientele of the rich and famous of both genders. He made his sex-filled lifestyle sound glamorous and desirable. I loved it and read the sex passages over and over, repeatedly beating-off to them. That book was so hot, inspiring my young libido. One evening I found out the author was to be the featured guest on The Tomorrow Show, Tom Snyder’s late night gab-fest. I have no memory of the kind of excuse I came up with that allowed me to stay up until two AM on a school night to watch that, but my mother permitted it. She had to have known what I was into even then. Needless to say the television show’s discussion was much tamer than what I had been reading in the book, but once I saw the cute guy who had penned it, I jacked-off to my fantasy of him for months to come.

A few years later I started going to porn theatres and found my bliss. I stopped reading porn.

So even I was surprised when a couple months ago I stumbled on two text-based websites with no pictures, and I was getting off to them. Solo Touch (http://www.solotouch.com/home.php) is all about choking the chicken. It encourages readers to write in with their masturbation techniques, ideas, and most importantly to me, their stories. The anecdotal section is divided into three parts; Women and their adventures (yeah … who cares?); Men alone (often fairly hot); and men with other men (very, very hot!) It’s kind of surprising how many guys who identify as straight have and do jack-off with their buddies. So much happens around us that we don’t realize. I find Solo Touch very hot reading.

The other site is much kinkier. Calling itself Sex Stories Text Repository (http://www.asstr.org/main.html), this is a porn reader’s Nirvana. There are hundreds of stories here, some spread over many chapters. Anything you’re looking for, you’re going to find here, and probably a whole lot you weren’t looking for. One of the features I love is each entry has its own coded reference key. There is an area explaining what goes on in the piece you’re about to read. MM (gay male fun), MF (straight sex), FF (lesbian), Orgy, Rape, Incest, Pedophilia, you name it. You can find dozens of entries by dozens of authors describing in detail the thing that most turns you on. And most stories contain several topics. Mix and match, allow your fetishes to combine all in the same piece. My only complaint about this site, and it’s a small one, is a lot of the writings are quite long, longer than I have time for when I want a quick whack before heading off to bed. But you might really like that aspect of them, if you’re into the idea of a nasty and hot sex story roughly the length of Moby Dick.

Now don’t worry. Sure, I like reading these hot narratives, but I’m not giving up movies and pictures, you know me better than that. However these two stroke-sites have expanded my voyeuristic horizons somewhat. And I’m enjoying finding a new variant of what turns me on and gets me off.

I recently wrote a blog entry about celebrity sex tapes, questioning why anyone would make one, or why they would be surprised when the tapes would be unscrupulously released to the general public. Newsweek Magazine wondered the same things. They spoke to ex-Creed lead singer Scott Stapp, whose 1999 romp with four girls and Kid Rock recently hit the net. He and Rock went to court and won a temporary order preventing World Wide Red Light District from distributing or promoting the video. Red Light, infamous for their sale of Paris Hilton’s sex tape in 2004, had leaked a 40-second preview clip of the video to the web. The company has acknowledged that the tape came from a third party, but has denied that it was stolen as Stapp has claimed.

Stapp believes the release of the sex video is intended to sabotage him. "Obviously someone wants to hurt me and doesn’t want me to be successful in my solo career," he said. "You think it’s part of your rock ’n’ roll memories," he continued. "I should have burned that tape." Uh, yeah.

Kid Rock was a little more philosophical about the whole thing when Newsweek asked him about the video. I quote at length:

Reporter: I take it that this sex tape scandal is not a positive thing in your life?
Rock: I don't know what to do with it. It's something I'm definitely not proud of, but I'm not embarrassed by it either. It's rock and roll, and it goes on. If I've gotta a carry that flag ..."
Reporter: This does look like the ultimate publicity stunt—the tape drops just as your new album drops.
Rock: I know. But really, I'm not that calculated. It's very lame that it got out. And it’s very lame that Scott is blaming it on someone "sabotaging" his career. It's like, it's your tape, idiot! I'm holding him responsible for it ... Well, it's my responsibility, too. But I was a little caught up at the time. My mind was in other places.
Reporter: How have your fans reacted?
Rock: They've said, "I'm not really shocked you were in a video having sex with four girls. I'm not surprised that someone got it on tape. But, man—what the hell were you doing hanging out with Scott Stapp?"
Reporter: It is pretty hard to tarnish your image.
Rock: I'm a nice person. I am. I'm not rude. I think you’ll see in that 40-second clip: he walks in like, "Scott Stapp. King!" I walk in like, "Hi, I'm Bob."
Reporter: I'm only surprised, given your reputation, that something like this didn't happen sooner.
Rock: No, it's not my thing. I'm not into videos. But it was my own fault for getting involved. I can guarantee I wasn't sober at the time.
Reporter: You had to know that someday this tape was going to surface.
Rock: I hadn't thought about it until the day it leaked on the Web. Then I thought of the company I was gonna be in, and I was like, "Oh God!" The whole Paris Hilton thing. I'm not saying I'm better than them, it's just not where I wanna be.

I guess naiveté knows all types of people, and not fame nor celebrity nor wealth can escape its grasp. Too bad for them. But it makes it fun for us. Now if I could just lay my hands on a montage or capture or two from that tape. I know I’d like to see just what exactly they were up to.

A friend wrote and asked if, by looking at the pictures I posted three days ago, I could guess how big Colin Farrell’s cock was. I examined the montage again (even closer this time) and I'm guessing about 7 inches long. Thickness, of course, is very difficult to judge. I’m guessing that length because of the shot with his hand holding his upright cock from the base. To be frank, I'm about 7 inches myself and let's just say the picture looks fairly familiar.

I mean, look at the picture of Erik Everhard fucking the chick in the US vs Europe post from two days ago. Yes, he looks stunningly well hung, and I truly believe he is. But it's always difficult to tell. He could have six inches, but if he is only 5 foot one, a six inch cock is going to look huge. I've read that porn producers like casting shortish guys just so their dicks look bigger. So who knows. May I say in his defense, however, even if Mr. Everhard is a midget, it appears to me he still possesses a massive member.

What do you think? Do you believe Erik is overwhelmingly well-hung? What size would you guess Colin’s cock is? Write in, post your comments. Let us know what you think. There will be a prize for the winner. And that prize will be … having the opportunity to discover in person if they are right or not. But I at least have to be able to watch!

The Stunning Mr. Stryker

The indisputable star of this flick is Eric Stryker. Blue-eyed, blonde, muscular, and hung he is extraordinary here. Sadly he died in 1988 at the far too early age of 33, but he still made a huge impact on the gay adult film industry. He appeared in over 55 classic strokers, including A Matter Of Size, Asian Knights, Lovers & Friends, Bathhouse Fantasies, Student Bodies, Good Hot Stuff, and Rawhide. He never failed to be hot, to produce memorable sex, or to look less than fuckable.

Arcade is a pre-condom classic, so all fucking is bareback. It clocks in at a brisk 72 minutes. Most importantly, it heavily features oral sex, so if you’re a fan of blow-jobs, glory holes, group sucking, and big jizz loads, you’ll want to get your hands on a copy as soon as possible. And, I promise, once you’ve gotten your hands on it, you’ll be getting them on something you are far more intimate with.

No, this isn’t about President Bush and the French. It’s about a recent blog entry I posted that sparked an interesting conversation centering on the difference between American and European straight male porn stars. I said I felt the Euro-Studs are less inhibited, less homophobic, and much hotter than their American brethren. Several readers disagreed, saying they thought both groups were roughly the same when it came to sexual attitudes. One reader brought up the wonderful Anabolic gang-bang flicks to illustrate the point that US guys aren’t uncomfortable around each other while naked and fucking. All excellent, well reasoned, intelligent points.

Today, however, I was reading a fascinating interview with one of the Good Ol’ U.S. of A.’s biggest (and I mean that in every sense of the word) straight boy porn studs, Erik Everhard. It was an engaging description of his entrance into adult entertainment, what he loves about fucking for a living, and his current activities. He’s a hot stud, and the interview really supports the rumors I’d read elsewhere that he is a decent, warm, down-to-earth kind of guy. If you’re not sure who Everhard is … well, here’s a few reminders.

Erik Everhard (Too Cute)

An Everhard Ad (Equally Too Cute)

Erik Doing What He Does Best (Too Hot)

Near the end of his interview, Everhard is asked to comment on the very topic I brought up on this blog last month. Here are his thoughts.

Question: How do you think the American performers stack up against the Europeans?
Erik: I would say that there are more consistent performers in Europe right now. There are just more guys willing to step up to the plate. That might be the North American, Bible Belt attitude towards this business. Guys think about the long term stigma here, where in Europe they just jump right in.
Question: Do you think there is a great performance fear here?
Erik: I don’t know. I really can’t relate to that. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never struggled in private so failure has never been a concern for me. I can think of maybe three bad scenes I’ve done, but I have never failed to complete a scene.
Question: How many scenes have you done?
Erik: Around six or seven hundred so far.

(If you would like to read Erik Everhard’s interview in its entirety, check it out at http://www.rogreviews.com/interviews/Erik_Everhard.asp )

I’m not quoting this to try to prove I’m right, or to give a "Nee-der, Nee-der, Nee-der" to those intelligent and insightful readers who wrote in defending American fuck-studs. I just thought it was an interesting side-note to an entertaining discussion we’d been having here.

And, please, click on comments and let us know your opinion! I’d love to hear you weigh in on what has become the Porn Watcher Sexual Olympics: America Vs. All of Europe!

Mr. Farrell and Friend

I have to believe Colin must have known when he filmed this that people like me would be posting it. Didn’t he?

If you'd like to see a sharper version of the Farrell montage, email me at axelg58@hotmail.com and I'll be glad to shoot one off to you. It's very clear ... if you know what I mean.

You know, sometimes fantasy is better than the real thing.

During my recent New York business excursion, a friend took me to XL, a gay bar in Chelsea. It’s a trendy, fairly classy establishment. Now in fairness, the eight stalls in the men’s room are all slightly larger than most handicap accessible bathrooms. And they have complete doors – that is to say, once the door is closed no one can see anything inside the stall. I mentioned to my friend that a men’s room built for sex was kind of sleazy in a very fun way. He told me that later that night he would take me to the East Village so I could experience what he called, "A truly sleazy gay club." When I asked just how sleazy we’re talking here, he told me the last time he had patronized the place in question there were hot go-go boys dancing naked on the bar sporting hard-ons, two separate circle-jerks in darkened corners, and several people engaged in an orgy in coat-check room in the basement. Needless to say, I was thrilled with the idea.

The bar is called The Cock just above Houston Street in Alphabet City. There was a ten dollar cover charge, and with that you got one drink. Upon entering we were told to put our wallets in our front pockets, not to leave our drinks unattended and to have a good time. I was planning on it.

Now you have to understand, I’m not a naive hick here. I’ve been to some sleazy, dark bars in my life, including a wonderful joint called the Water Works I used to love in New York’s upper West Side. One of my favorite Seattle gay bars is The Eagle, with its hard-core porn projected on the big screen (of course I like that), its hanging leather sling and, best of all, the barber chair, in which, any occupant is ensured a quick blow-job.

Still The Cock may be the darkest bar I’ve ever been in. There was a rotating mirror ball hanging from the ceiling, with two red gelled spot lights carelessly aimed towards it. This is the sole light source for the entire place. There is one medium-sized room, and this night it was packed with men of all ages and sizes and types.

Sadly no one was having sex with anyone while we were there. There was that quiet, forlorn, frustrated desperation that comes from guys longing to do something dirty, but not having the guts to go for it. In the basement coat-check pit (I can’t really call it a room) all that was being checked out were the coats. I was sorely disappointed, and not paying much attention when my buddy suddenly said, "Okay, here we go." I looked up to see two young men dancing on bar. Both wore cowboy boots and bikini underwear and nothing else.

That reinstated my interest. The boys danced acceptably but without imagination. One had been practicing his high kicks. I know because that’s almost all he did. I worked my way through the sweaty throng to get a better look at the go-go boys, since in the gloomy light any discernable features were dim at best. What a disappointment! They were way too skinny, had not seen a gym since junior high, were very unattractive, and resembled the worst sixth-rate strung-out street hustler you’ve ever seen (which they very easily could have been.) They danced for almost an hour, pulling their shorts down to expose their asses and pubes, but never their cocks. I kept waiting and hoping, but to no avail.

Guys were tipping them and when they did I noticed most would squeeze the dancer's baskets. Well, since nothing interesting was going on, I thought I’d give that a try. I took a bill out of my front pocketed wallet, got the attention of one of the boys and pushed the money under the waistband of his Hanes. The familiar sensation of trimmed pubes traveled across my fingers, and so I went for it. I squeezed the package. More disappointment! I know of a lot of hung guys who, when flaccid, have fairly small dicks, but this guy had almost nothing. I might as well have been feeling up a nine year old. No wonder he wouldn’t drop his undies. And worst of all, it cost me a dollar to discover this.

My friend apologized for the disastrous evening, claiming The Cock had been so much more fun when he'd visited before. It was late and so we returned to his apartment where I was staying. If it had been earlier in the evening we would have tried a couple other bars. I’ve since been told the clubs with the truly hot boy dancers are places like The Urge (right next door to The Cock), The Slide, The Boy’s Room, The Tool Box, Siberia Saturdays and, yes, XL, the bar where we had started our drinking adventure that afternoon. Oh, well. I’ll hit them next time I’m in The Big Apple.

And until then, I’m back to my go-go boy fantasy. And that’s just fine. After all, it never fails to be hot or to get me off. And the boys are so much better looking.

I’ve watched two more of my Manhattan purchased movies. One was pretty good, the other did absolutely nothing for me. It’s always a roll of the dice when you buy porn you haven’t seen, isn’t it? With these two I won one and lost the other.


1987’s Little Miss Innocence is a complete wash out. It’s a well known fact (at least by readers of this blog) that I like group sex scenes, particularily with multiple men involved. I had a bad feeling about this one, directed by David McCabe, from the opening credits. The film has a cast of three – not three stars – three people. And only one is a man. Now that man is Eric Edwards, who, when he was first working (and I was first going to adult theatres) was one of my favorite straight male porn stars. I made a point to find out which films he appeared in, and I went to see them. But times – and my tastes – seem to have changed, and Eric comes across now as slightly vanilla and uninteresting. His cock is good sized but not huge, his body is fine but not spectacular, and his fucking reliable but not memorable.

In Little Miss Innocence, Sheri St. Claire and Summer Rose arrive at Eric’s Hollywood mansion uninvited and move in. They decide they both like him and start fucking him, separately and together. They wake him up in the middle of the night to fuck. They grab him on his way to work to fuck. They fuck him so much in fact, he becomes dissipated and unable to function. Finally they leave him naked on the kitchen floor, begging for mercy.

Straight boy fantasy? Two girls who want to have sex more than you do? You bet your ass that’s what it is. There’s nothing wrong with porn movies that facilitate the fantasies of their audience, but at least throw a couple other guys into the mix. Couldn’t Eric have had some buddies who wanted to come over and get some? Anyway, the performances are fine, the cinematography very good, the performers attractive, but my cock didn’t stay hard. Axel loses that dice roll.

However, Axel won the next throw. Private’s 1995 epic The Kissing Fields is very hot, even though, atypical for Private, there is no orgy sequence. There’s a four-way, but no proper orgy. But that’s okay, the sex is hot, the boys hotter, and the facial and oral cum shots plentiful.


Sexy and hung African-American Sean Michaels stars as a secret agent undercover (and under the covers) in the Caribbean fucking his way through an investigation. The plot is a little more detailed than that, but really, that’s all you need to know. The ladies, including Brigite Aime, Kasandra and Zana Sun, are all sexy. Sean and Joey Verducci are the male stars, and together and separately they appear in every scene, including two additional cut three-way sequences that show up in Special Features. Verducci has never done much for me, but he is well photographed here (direction is credited to Max Steiner), and his cock is large, as is his splattering loads of man cream.

One scene features the legendary John Dough, a nasty, hairy sex machine who can’t get enough pussy and has one of the filthiest mouths in the adult industry. I love him. He performs in the four-way spectacularly. In my opinion, he is under appreciated and (was) under used. When I catch him in a video, I always wish I could see more. I’ve read he is still active in the porn biz, but now mostly directs. Someone should reissue all of his movies in a single set. I know I’d be in line to buy them.

The Amazing John Dough

So, all in all, The Kissing Fields is one hot fucking straight porn flick. See it if you can. And Little Miss Innocence? Well, see it if you dare – dare to fall asleep that is.

Sex Around the World: Sweden 2 is the first movie I’ve watched of the five I bought during my New York trip. If you read this blog with any regularity, you know I love European porn, and this video is a pretty good example of their style of adult cinema.

The DVD contains five sequences, some hotter than others, one stunningly sexy. Scene one is a masturbation sequence featuring a girl on a sports car with a jelly dildo. You know how I feel about scenes like these. Yawn. I know the straight boys love them, but, like lesbian scenes, it’s Fast Forward time for me. This is followed, however, by the hottest sequence in the movie, and one of the hottest sequences I’ve seen anywhere in quite some time. A woman in her bathtub is playing with her pussy when the single sexiest man I've seen in straight porn in a while appears naked and they go at it. His name is Jiri Kache and he is a big, muscular, hung Swede, who, in my humble opinion, really, really needs to come to my house for a dose of good old fashioned man love. This guy is amazing, remember his name – Jiri Kache – and look for his movies. Here are a few stills from Sweden 2 featuring him.




Stunning, huh? I think he’s unbelievable, and I can’t wait to see more of him, his big cock, and his massive cum loads.

The other scenes in the film are fine, but pale following the appearance of Kache. A woman fucks a faceless guy in a suit. We only see his face at the money shot, and it’s a truly disappointing face. Big load of jizz though. There’s another two-way with a muscular black Swede – something of an ethnic surprise – and a three-way with two ladies and a guy with a video camera, who … well, unfortunatly you can guess what they do. It isn't terribly imaginative.

Director Jon Yuma makes a common artistic mistake that has irritated me for years. He tries to turn hot porn into an artistic statement. Sweden 2 features bold, unreal, saturated colors, lots of slow motion, swaying and dizzying handheld cameras, and soft, blurred, even unrecognizable focus attempting a hip music video look for the production. But Yuma forgets this is porn, and that we want to see the cock slamming into the cunt with clarity. We don’t need to be entertained by "hip" camera work and blurred images. We want to be entertained by imaginative sex performed by hot, athletic men and women.

This DVD is released by Anarchy Films, and is PC DVD-ROM compatible, so you can have whacking fun at your desk. The bonus features are among the best I’ve ever seen, so kudos to Anarchy for that! There’s a photo gallery, website access, and best of all, the previews. They are simply edited for the best moments of the movies they promote, all with hot cum-shots (something so many previews leave out), and best of all there are 19 – count ‘um, 19! -- of them! What’s better than almost a bonus hour of pure sex. I loved it.

Overall, Sex Around the World: Sweden 2 is a nice European porn flick, certainly strokable, with one of the hottest new guys in the biz. And don’t forget to check out the previews. They’ll provide you a cum-bath all by themselves.

I’ve returned from my New York business trip and I had a terrific time. But now, I’m ready to get back to watching and writing about hot, sloppy, nasty porn.

Needless to say, while in The Big Apple I made it to a couple of the Eighth Avenue porno stores, and bought five new straight DVDs I’ll be reporting on soon (Although I’ll try and watch a few of my current gay adult movies, just to mix things up.)

The New York porn shops are interesting places. DVDs and tapes are very cheap, and the peep show preview booths are intensely hot. I particularly enjoyed the buddy booths. If you’re unfamiliar with the buddy booth concept, think of a regular video booth, except you can push a button, and if the guy in the booth next to you also hits the button in his booth, a window opens up between you so you can watch each other jack-off to the movies on the screen -- or to each other. And did I mention the window between you gaps slightly at the bottom? Just enough to – Yes! – slip your cock through. Now I’m not saying I sucked any cock there, or that I got my cock sucked – I’m not saying that – I just saying it’s possible to suck cock through the window. That’s all I’m saying.

Some of you wrote and asked me to tell about my non-porn NYC adventures. Okay. I saw three shows on Broadway; the Sweeney Todd revival starring Patti LuPone (Odd production, completely re-imagined, the ten actors play their own instruments, and the staging is Brechtian, symbolic, anachronistic, and thoroughly exhilarating), the Pulitzer Prize winning Doubt with the new replacement cast featuring Dame Eileen Atkins (Not as thrilling as I thought it was going to be), and the gut-wrenchingly hilarious Dirty Rotten Scoundrels starring Jonathan Pryce (Really funny), Norbert Leo Butz (He won the Tony for this role for a reason – it’s the funniest performance I’ve ever seen on any stage), and Joanna Gleason (Always luminous.) I also made it to both Metropolitans – the Museum and the Opera. At Lincoln Center I caught Saint-Saens’ Samson et Dalila. It was something of a tepid production, but Olga Borodina’s Dalila is breathtaking and stunning. Her performance alone is worth the price of admission.

Okay, enough of all this. Now I’m heading to the DVD player with a cum-rag and my pants open. I’ll be back telling you about one of my new stroke flicks very, very soon.