Barrowman's lover Scott Gill shows ALL
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Singer and actor John Barrowman of Dr. Who, Torchwood, and Arrow was sitting in a Palm Springs hot tub chatting live with the video camera when his very well endowed husband walked in front of the lens. Whoops. Or perhaps: Whoopie.
Unfortunately, the images were all thoroughly scrubbed within a day, so all you can see now is a bunch of pixels, and I was not swift enough to save the thing or even take some snaps of individual frames.
Claiming they sunbathe naked and are absolutely not embarrassed, somehow the two (or someone on their behalf) has moved swiftly to hide the large amount of evidence that was displayed to a few thousand people almost instantly.
Really, there has to be a full record of this historic event on hard drives and clouds all over the world, but so far none has turned up. Anyone who finds and posts the uncensored version or provides a workable link will be showered in bonus points as a penalty for my dismay in having let the actual video slip away.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/john-barrowman-husband-penis_us_571f6a2de4b0b49df6a8e4ad
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http://www.tumbex.com/tumblr/notdbd/photo?tag=male%20nudity
Is that it?
And wow, dat schlong! :blink:
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I'd say thats impressive.
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Those gifs are from the video all right. Combine them with the link I provided to hear the dialogue from the censored version and that's almost the whole thing.
What a great find. Thank you. Also, thanks for the great tumblr link in general. I think the kind of celebration of proud, lusty, confident manliness that Whitman celebrates in his "new" book is v much exemplified by the unselfconscious bonding of jocks on and off the field, in and out of changing rooms.
Same thing among military folks. Everyone so masculine and alive together that there is no subtext to their open and honest affection except for those who have serious hangups. Butch bluffing and willy wagging, perhaps at urinals, are just things virile horndogs do. It's the closet case who is terrified to participate or afraid they might send out the "wrong" vibe and inadvertently encourage someone.
Personally, I love seeing str8s enjoying gay sex for its purely animal power, and love
the way they can reach new levels of orgasmic excess in the supportive and expert attention of someone like Bobby Garcia. And I feel sorry for those who seem to be unable or unwilling to twitch, quiver, or give any sign or sound of climax because they are so rough and tough. It's not always the novelty and threat of the situation they are in, either, and their girlfriends must hate that mechanical reserve rather than appreciate the uncontrolled indulgence of The Moment.Locker room hidden cams from the likes of Angry Young Man allow documentary insights into the patterns and passions of Marines, athletes, and others comfortably macho together, naked and natural as the "good gray poet" most approved and endorsed.
That tumblr poster is really onto something, I think. But then, not everyone is likely to "sing the body electric" and the subtle and tender intricacies of the emotional bonding that goes on among men. Lots of talk these days about "the sisterhood," and studies indicate women tend, in general, to be open to same-sex play together, but men have a ways to go yet even to acknowledge their possibilities.
As mentioned in other posts, I've blown str8s who happily jumped at the chance to get off efficiently without complicating costs or strings. And men who were up to make a little quick cash so they could afford a night buying drinks for ladies at bars or to treat their later date to a more well financed treatment from their beau.
Ideally, wouldn't everyone just get it on with a range of partners of either sex until they finally settle for the person or playstyle they find most engaging? Anyone turned off to such casual sex of the kind generally excused, at first, as adolescent experimentation, is simply reacting to the Public Victorian.
"What would Mrs. Grundy say? What would Mrs. Grundy do?" That's fear of being found out and judged by those who are terrified that someone, somewhere, might be having a good time. If there is anything yucky about it, the burden and corruption of natural drives comes from society and likely comes either from ignorance (medical/psychological) or from repressive rules promulgated as a means of control but accredited to the demands of the one, true, god.
Right now, in the US, we have a Canadian-born political candidate who has overtly claimed to be The Chosen One for this election and who is campaigning vigorously against the rights of women to control their own bodies, and even the rights of men to masturbate (alone, in secret), much less marry each other. Not surprisingly, the smarmy sanctimony of little Teddy Crud has made him the most despised elected official in the country. Apparently hating all the same people your one, true god orders you to hate does not increase popularity. And as a result, we're about to have a talking yam representing one of this country's two political parties.
General scuttlebutt, incidentally, is that his name is on the client list of former D.C. madame Heidi Fleiss. Maybe so. They're in court sorting out whether the names can be released legally, a matter of alleged urgency because Someone playing a prominent role in the whole circus was very much involved with her sex-for-hire business.
Just think of all the orgasms wasted because time is squandered on repression and hypocrisy instead of just letting the bon temps roulez.
"Honi soit qui mal y pense."