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July 12, 2017

COCK RING CIRCUS


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I went to Palm Springs for this year’s White Party weekend for the 25th Anniversary celebration.  I interviewed actor, singer and TV producer Jai Rodriguez for the White Party issue of The Fight magazine and I wrote an article about my first White Party experience, back when I was a kid. SOOooo when the editor of The Fight Mag invited me to hit up WP with paid hotel accommodations and a VIP pass, I thought I had a pretty legit reason to the revisit the scene of my past crimes—WHITE PARTY!!!

It’s been almost 10 years since I last tapped into that part of myself where I schemed and starved to impress people I don’t really like—well, I didn’t really starve myself, but I did cut out sugar and dairy from my diet, which made a world of difference to my physique.  I also hit the gym extra hard and plotted for the appropriate outfits for each event, because that’s just how it goes; I don’t make the rules—look, I may be sober, I may be in a relationship and I may have braces in my face, but I wasn’t about to phone it in.  On the one hand I don’t really give a shit about what people think about me, but on the other hand, I didn’t want to give any ghosts from my party past any reason to be like, “DAMN!  What happened to that bitch?”  I’m sooo not ready to go out like that.  I HAD to make the shit look good.

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HANKIE CODE

We decided to skip the underwear party Friday night.  I had no kind of business walking around in my undies with a man and a dog waiting for me at home.  No kind of business!  Domestic obligations aside, there was still the question of swim apparel for the pool parties.  I hit up a friend who is good with the sewing machine (every respectable gay man should have a good tailor and a good photographer in their inner circle).  He straight up pieced together a one-of-a-kind bathing suit made out of actual bandannas and altered an Aussie Bum number for the second pool party to play on the hanky codes–a color-coded system that indicates your sexual fetish preference which dates back to 70’s.  Lately I’ve been rolling around with folks from the leather community, so I figured a hanky bathing suit would be tongue and cheek–totally my speed.  The question was, what color should my handkerchief be?  Of course, I wanted a red bathing suit, but according to the color chart, a red hanky means you like taking a whole fist up your butt.  Red is a hot color and all, but I did NOT want to advertise that I had a busted hole at this pool party.  Brown was out of the question (yep, you guessed it, a brown hanky advertises dookie sex play).  I went down the color system and decided that sexually, I prefer a dark blue and light blue (look it up), but realistically, I have always ended up on white hankie code status (look it up).  So white it would be.

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I got carried away plotting the details for white party weekend, even though I haven’t always been a fan of the whole circuit scene.  I didn’t enjoy it much when my ass was fucked up (because I was royally fucked up), so I could not imagine what it would be like while being completely sober—however, if I was gonna do it, I knew it was all in the details.  I took all precautions necessary.  I went so far as to get a meningitis vaccine and then I go a B vitamin booster shot to avoid getting sick, yet despite all my efforts–what you resist, persists–my ass got sick three days before the event, which made me so ANGRY! I had the shivers, sore throat, a runny nose and a coughed so hard, my nuts hurt.

GAME OVER?
Being sick sort of pumped my brakes on the insanity of preparing for the big WP.  I don’t do so well sick.  A final beauty pump before the big weekend was out of the question, so the body was what it was.  I was already going to this event partnered, sober, with braces in my face and now sick as a damn dawg.  I wanted to throw in the towel, but that’s just now how I roll.  I cancelled my workouts, but I kept my spray tan appointment with Spray Tans by Steph (spraytansbysteph.com), my former roommate Stephanie Reese, hooked me up and made my pale body give off a faux bronze and healthy glow.

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POOL TIME!
The White Party Pool Party was actually a lot of fun despite my being sick.  I ran into a lot of sobers on my way inside, because Jeffrey Sanker is no fool when it comes to hiring his staff.  Sobers suit up and show up, we don’t cheat or steal (anymore) and we aim to please.  Of course, my sober sistas gave me shit when they saw me standing in the VIP line.  “What are YOU doing here?” They asked me.  “We’re going to have you pee in cup later on,” they warned me.  “Remember, this is not the VIPNP line,” another informed me.  They called my ass out.  A lot of sobers would start counting days again after that weekend.  I was hell bent on not being one of them.

 

WONDER UNDER GEAR
What made the pool party so much fun for me, was the people watching.  They had mermen swimming in the pool.  There were live performances.  I ran into Jai Rodriguez doing his thing as a White Party host.  You had porn people wearing next to nothing by the poolside.  You had people wearing Halloween costumes.  There was a lot of eye-candy (I can look).  It was fascinating seeing all these young beautiful guys who didn’t look too convinced that they thought of themselves as young and beautiful.  The armor most of these guys used to mask their insecurity was raunchy, which I totally get.  We all have to go through that for some reason.

Of course, there was also a battle of the bulge going on by the pool.  Cock rings are common at a shindig like this, but the popular trend I noticed was that a lot of guys wore this whorie under gear that one mostly sees on strippers at places like Micky’s.  I could totally tell that the majority of swimsuits had built-in cock ring contraptions and stitching that pushed your cock and balls way out to there to give the illusion that you were packing some heat.  It’s like a Wonder Bra for your nut sack.  Unfortunately, the wonder under gear with all the built-in nuts and bolts could not hide the fact that some of these guys were working with a tiny tool.  It was both amusing and sad at the same time.

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I had no hidden agendas and/or any expectations of what the pool party should offer.  A former version of myself would be elbowing bitches out of the way and trying to feed on as much attention as I could possibly get (a former version of myself also fell in a K-Hole at this very same pool party many moons ago, but let’s not go there).  I didn’t do a single push-up before stepping out.  I didn’t even remove my shorts to reveal my swim trunks throughout the entire party, which my friend worked so hard to make.  It was partly because my boyfriend’s voice kept echoing in my head, telling me not to shame him with his nieces by posting pictures of myself with an outline of my junk for everyone to see.  Another part of me just didn’t feel like it.  I wasn’t in the mood to strip down to my swim trunks.  I was perfectly fine in my Diesel Military shorts, which means I didn’t get in the water.  I’m sorry, but despite the pool being all pretty and blue, all I saw was some meningitis stew.

The pool party turned out to be a lot of fun.  I survived it with my integrity and sobriety intact.  Next stop: White Party.

Luv,
Me

 

 

 

 

 

 

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About Paulo Murillo,

Paulo has been writing for the gay media for over 16 years. He made his debut as a columnist for FAB! Newspaper. He has written for LA Health News, IN Los Angeles, Frontiers and The Fight Magazine. He has been featured in The Bay Area Reporter, XY Magazine, Bay Windows, Windy Times, and Press Pass Q, He has been quoted in the pages of Edge Magazine, Gay & Lesbian Times, Seattle Gay News, Fuges, and in a shitload of online news outlets and blogs, thanks in large part to Rex Wocker’s Quote on Quote – Wockner Wire.

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