Cats and Muscle Porn; It’s a Gay Life

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When Secret Agent Fred dumped his fatuous boyfriend a few years ago, he asked if he could stash his terribly sweet, ancient cat, Asizzi, with me since Fred was renting his apartment out on Air BnB and somehow the listing of “affectionate cat” under the amenities was not working.  It was fine with me, I like Asizzi (I should mention, veterinarian offices are universally unable to handle his name and kept calling Fred up to the counter as “A Sissy.”  Oddly accurate, but sort of confusing, so the cat’s name has morphed into Steve.)

So Steve has been a resident here for all this time and Saki still has not warmed to it.  To keep them separate, Steve stays in R Man’s old room, which sounds cramped, but since it’s about the size of Fred’s studio apartment, he doesn’t seem to mind it, but occasionally will make a break for it.  Fred has been holed up in his own apartment slinging his excellent calligraphy for the tons of wedding invitations that are his bread and butter this time of year.  Exasperated at Steve getting out yet again (he is fast for an old codger) I decided to see how the two cats would get along.

Turns out much better than before.  They’re sort of tense, stiff legged around each other, but a real minimum of hissing and no actual fights.  The amazing part is that Steve, America’s Sweetheart, tends  to be the instigator of any rumpus.  He will occasionally let loose this prolonged low growl and tentatively poke his paw towards Saki who hunkers down looking baffled like “What is with you old man?”  Of course, Steve is so senile it’s possible he thinks he’s imitating a can opener.  There’s no telling.

Also, having Fred out of the house means not just cat acclimation, but Porn Festival!  Not that having the old dear around really cramps my style much since we have separate bedrooms, but still, having the house all to myself is so poignantly reminiscent of being 14 and trying to rub one out before mom gets home from the store.  Whee!

Scrutiny of several new sites as well as some old faves has resulted in a conundrum.  A performer dear to my heart and my right hand has popped up on two sites and I can’t decide which version I prefer.  So let’s vote, shall we?

First, Gianluigi from Men at Play

 So very distinguished and distinctive, don’t you think?

And then a sleeker version from MuscleHunks

Typically I would always go for the fur bearing beast thang, but I have to say, the MuscleHunk scene wherein dear little Gian his spanking his personal monkey and his giant shaved and waxed man tits are rocking gently back and forth is pretty darn mesmerizing.

And those lips.

I think I have to go do some more research.

13 responses »

  1. This gentleman is indeed worthy of further scrutiny. If only I weren't so convinced that that unfortunate calligraphic tattoo (presumably a far cry from Fred's nuptial artistry) didn't say something like “sanitized for your protection” (not that that wouldn't be at least somewhat apropos).

    Like

  2. All this time you've had another cat living in your home that no one else has seen nor heard? It's like, Whatever Happened to Baby Jane, but with cats.

    I like Luigi better with hair.

    Like

  3. There's something really perverse in a fuzzy musclestud wearing his grandmother's prayer beads around his neck while he shows off his … uh … muscles. But I'm with ayeM8y — better with hair. The peeled version looks like something from a late Mae West two-reeler.

    Like

  4. Steve is a very low key cat, so he doesn't really bring the drama that makes for blog fodder.

    I think I like him with the beard, but shaved titties so you can appreciate their massive quality.

    Like

  5. “They're sort of tense, stiff legged around each other, but a real minimum of hissing and no actual fights. “

    For a moment I thought this was the plot of one of your
    Gianluigi's films.
    If not, it SHOULD be.

    Like

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