This Blog Has Moved

For the new blog, please visit http://theorgyguy.blogspot.com/

EWWWW, grossss, the horizon has changes all over it! – Post #12

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Wednesday 8/4/10 9:14 P.M.

The Village Den, my spot outside

Always hopeful, yet discontent

He knows changes aren’t permanent

But change is    

I like change.  Generally.  There’s something compelling about it.  Growth.  Life cycle and all that. 

Living here in NYC, for instance, every season is my favorite.  By the time it’s winding down, I’m looking forward to the next one, my new favorite season.

Here are three changes going on now:

Change #1 The Orgy Guy

ERUPTION, PEAK, THE XTUBE PARTY, SIR, HOOK.  Those are the current parties. They’re held at a space called The Club House (whereas, if I were to change venues, I’d rename the new space).  Now, with the blog and Twitter and the porn and whatever else coming, in addition to the parties, it should collectively have a new name.  And so, I’ll henceforth be going by The Orgy Guy.  Look for emails to come from a new email address, and the blog is moving to http://theorgyguy.blogspot.com/.  All posts from this blog have been copy/pasted to the new one.  I hope the few followers I’ve got will move with me.

It’s a sitcom reference.  Know which one?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6_pv_vRHKI&feature=related

Change #2 No More Emails

Or at least a lot fewer.  I’ll send the introductory email when I  put guys on the list, and maybe one or two a month after that, but I won’t be sending them out once or twice weekly with the schedule and updates.   Guys who most want to come – who are the guys I prefer to come – will find their way to the blog for updates. I am sending an email concurrent to this post, to invite the guys on my list to join.

Change #3 LOTTERY Parties (1^st one on Saturday, 8/7)

I’ve recently been doing something different as an incentive to get more guys coming in the first hour, getting things going earlier.  For the most part, it’s worked very well.  I’ve got a new one, which I think is going to be an even more effective tactic.  It’s called LOTTERY.  It should be well received.  If you’re on the list, look for an email with the info. 

And so...

The Orgy Guy

(TA-DA)

           Ö  <– butthole and balls

I wrote last week about how I’ve joined Twitter. I’d thought I was like the last person alive not to have a Twitter account.  Turns out that wasn’t the case; I’ve asked at the parties and not one is on Twitter.  This is a way for guys to see how the party is going, while it’s happening in real time.

So please join me in making the switch to http://theorgyguy.blogspot.com/

Thank you for your support.

On Monogamy – Post #11

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Saturday 7/24/10 11:50 P.M.

Post Rush Concert - The Train Ride Home to Manhattan

On a road lit only by fire

Going where I want, instead of where I should

I peer out at the passing shadows

Carried through the night into the city

Where a young man has a chance of making good

A chance to break from the past

The caravan thunders onward

Stars winking through the canvas hood

On my way at last      --Neil Peart ‘10

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In relationships, as in life...

Nah.  Too high school essay and way too serious.

Did you hear the one about the boyfriend and his ass chastity belt?

But a little more serious than that!

OK.  There was a time when monogamy was so important to me that I would drink myself to sleep on any of the nights I didn’t spend with my then-boyfriend, because I was afraid he could be, at that very moment, fucking another guy. 

There ya go.

And talk about control issues.

There were eighteen years between Nixon and me (that was his name, and he has since died of cancer).  He was 49 and I was 31.  Very different places in our lives.  He didn’t think monogamy was that big a deal, while I probably thought it was the most important part of a relationship.

These days, as a single guy, I’m much more on board with where Nixon was. Is a relationship something to get sentenced to?  Why would I want to keep someone I love from that kind of enjoyment?  But maybe the most important question, why add more hurdles to an already precarious situation that is being in a relationship?  Issues are not like car mileage, to be recorded and measured and collected.

They are like potholes. To be avoided.

It’s a lot more fun to have group sex with your boyfriend than to pass out drunk and scared when he’s not around.  I’ve seen lots of couples at sex parties – certainly at mine.  I can’t ascertain how good a relationship is, but they do seem more sophisticated and secure to me.  They participate together, they participate apart, then they check on each other.

There are also guys who are there on the down-low, with the boyfriend out of town.  My guess is they don’t have an open relationship.  But, to the unsuspecting boyfriends out there, you should know that they never fall in love and I’ve never heard one say, “The sex is better than with my boyfriend.”

It really is just sex.

By no means am I generally advocating that open relationships are the way to go; if both are happy with monogamy, it makes sense to stick with what works.  But if it’s not working, you might want to give up, give in, and give it a try.

With rules, of course.

If I’d have known this back then, I could have saved a lot of tears, a lot of beer money, and, perhaps, even our relationship.

I miss you sweetie. 

♣

If you don’t know what the HOOK party is, check out the “Parties and Ideas” tab.  We’re going to have the first one on Tuesday, 8/3.

Guys often ask me if I could forward their email address to someone they played with at a party.  If they don’t ask or if I don’t know who they’re talking about, they have no choice but to hope to see the guy at another party.  With HOOK, you’ll be able to anonymously exchange email contact information with only the guys you’re into and who are also into you.

I’m really excited about it.  I hope you’ll join us.

♣

TCH is now on Twitter, where you can check on updates during parties.  I’ll post what’s going on.  In order to follow me, you’ll need to request access, on Twitter.  You’ll also first need to be on my email list.  My screen name there is @TheOrgyGuy.

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An Ode – Post #10

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Friday 7/16/10 7:35 P.M.

The Pier (at a table this time)

I’m sitting here watching these little kids knocking and kicking a beach ball around, and it occurs to me that I was about the same age when I organized my first group sex thing.  I must’ve been five.  At our backyard barbecue, I corralled two girl cousins and two boys from the block to watch me piss behind a bush.  My (much) older brother came around the corner to see what was going on, my observers scattered, and I couldn’t get my pants button snapped.  Alas, it was a clasp, and by the time I figured that out, he was spreading the news.

That’s all I remember.

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This is for that guy at sex parties everyone tries to avoid.

Ode to Inappropriate Guy

Hey now Inappropriate Guy

Why must you talk so loud?

No one wants to hear you say

How much you missed your dog today

Inappropriate Guy

Yeah, Inappropriate Guy

Hey now Inappropriate Guy

Get your finger out of there

He's still checking in his clothes

And that’s not even where it goes

Inappropriate Guy

Yeah, Inappropriate Guy

Hey now Inappropriate Guy

How could you not possibly know?

With guys who beat you off with stick

You somehow think they want your dick

Inappropriate Guy

Yeah, Inappropriate Guy

Hey now Inappropriate Guy

No comments while I’m screwing

I know that it’s a party

But you sound like my Aunt Marnie

Inappropriate Guy

No, no, noooo, Inappropriate Guy

Hey now Inappropriate Guy

You’re purposely standing in the way

Stop grabbing at the joint

Oh please just get the point

Inappropriate Guy

Stay out of the sling, Inappropriate Guy

With guys who beat you off with stick

You somehow think they want your dick

Your paisley jock is way too small

And, yes, we know your dick is too

Inappropriate Guy

Get your own poppers, Inappropriate Guy

Now now Inappropriate Guy

What was your email again?

Please stop with all the questions

And no to “private sessions”

Inappropriate Guy

You realize that’s your nose you’re thumbing?

There aren’t any parties coming

Inappropriate Guy

No, no, noooo, Inappropriate Guy

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Is that a Virgo in your sky or are you just happy to see me? – Post #9

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10:04 P.M. 7/11/10  

Sidewalk Café

Are you a Pisces, Aries, or Virgo?  And can I be your friend?

Seems you guys like (group) sex more than the rest of us.  

At the last four parties, I’ve asked each guy for his astrological sign. I would expect, as a “rational,” science-based type of thinker, that one hundred guys would divide up pretty evenly by month born, with regard to their respective sexual propensities.  This has been the case with water, air, and fire signs, but not earth signs:  

Again, this is only with one hundred guys.  With one thousand, I’d expect the percentages to draw much closer to each other.  It’s not like they’re that far apart.

But, in the order of the zodiac, check this out:

Why would guys born in September seem to like group sex so much more than guys born in August?  If these differences hold up over time and larger numbers, I won’t necessarily believe it’d have anything to do with the gravimetric positions of stars and constellations.  But is it any more believable that it would be due to having to wear winter booties, at a year old, rather than sandals? 

I don’t know, but so far, so fun.

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Type Righting – Post #8

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“It’s not the heat, it’s the inhumanity

Plugged into the sweat of the summer street”

--Neil Peart, 2002

5:44 P.M.  Back on the Pier

Twice, today, I’ve felt in harmony with my environment.  I’m pretty sure those were the two times the temperature hit 98.6 degrees.

Ever since I announced that TCH is primarily for men over 35, the feel of the parties has been better.  The younger guys who’ve come have been more sophisticated; no more walking around with that “deer in the headlights” look or asking a lot of questions.  I think the older guys are more comfortable, too.

The TCH brand is sanctuary.  This is the place to forget your worries for a few hours, to de-stress, to stop having to negotiate the day.

It’s all about the vibe, man.

I used to be a high school English teacher.  It just takes one student walking in with a late pass to change the dynamic of the group.  Takes some maneuvering to get the class back on track. 

A sex party can change, too, with enough guys.  If “Brian” has a prissy attitude, arms folded and eyes given to rolling, someone’s going to pick up on it and pass it along in some way.  Then, say, “Alan” joins the party with a big smile, bringing his joie de vivre into the mix.  He may become the proverbial straw that helps stir the drink.

I do look for a type at my parties; the type that’s fun and respectful of others, and who realizes that he’s actually the one responsible for his own good time.  I want a wholly masculine, grown up tone.  No less important is the “random factor.”  Guys whom I can picture as a cop or a dispatcher, a boss or his employee, an executive or the man who dumps his recycle pail.  That guy in I.T. who says Hello at the coffee machine.

As long as they’re real and as long as they don’t all look and act the same way.  Like some Twilight Zone episode. 

Or no change in temperature.

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Some preliminary conclusions may be drawn regarding the astrological signs of partygoers.  Here’s the chronological list, for last night’s SIR party, of the guys by arrival time. They’re color coded by earth, water, fire, air. Note any patterns?

Sc

V

V

Sc

Sc

Ar

Ar

Can

Can

G

V

V

P

P

P

Sa

P

Sc

Li

Li

Ar

T

Le

T

T

G

Sa

P

V

Ar

P

V

Sc

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Astrology, Meet Determinism – Post #7

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November 1980

Philip gave me the zodiac medallion on the bus. I wanted to control destiny with it.  The image of all twelve signs were etched in metal and I could keep it in my pocket.  At my disposal.  To feel it, to look at it, maybe even to use it.  By the third day, though, I wasn’t having much luck and I blamed the coin.  By the seventh day, while raking the lawn on a very windy and gray Sunday afternoon, I was convinced that I’d delved into some dark spirit force.  As the wind and the leaves picked up, so did my...drama.  I took the zodiac out from my pocket, looked at if for just a second, then threw it into the neighbors’ yard, hence ridding myself of the bad luck that was...The Zodiac. 

The next spring, it broke Mr. Smith’s lawn mower blade.

I am a determinist.  As opposed to a fatalist.  I prefer to call my shots. For better or for worse, my locus of control is heavily tilted toward self.  And I like it that way – I already don’t have enough control of my own destiny, due to probability; I don’t need to cede any more of it to gods or stars.

But I may actually be in the minority on this.  I’ve come across more believers in astrology than disbelievers.  From horoscopes to charts.  When someone asks me what my sign is, I counter that question with a command: “Guess.”  Over the years, two people have gotten it correct.  Again, probability. 

Of course, they just thought they were indeed gifted.

Yes, I realize this is a blog about orgies, so here’s the sequitur. I’ll research which two signs are in alignment (or whatever the term) during the night of a particular party, then announce that the party is primarily for guys with those signs.  The latest Thursday ERUPTION party had, for some reason, a preponderance of Aries and Virgos. 

I don’t know what that means, but I’m going to start taking note of guys’ signs, and who relates to whom, and so forth.  If anything, it’ll be interesting to see if we can determine any patterns.

It’ll be even more interesting to see if I’ve been wrong.

On Pride and Inspiration – Post #6

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It’s Gay Pride and I’m eating dinner in the village.  You know the Riviera Restaurant?  The tourist trap on the NW corner of W4^th and 7^th Avenue? 

Don’t go there.

But I am enjoying the view.  It’s 8:35 on the evening of Gay Pride.  Was it always this trashy?  I can hear you drolly saying, “Yeeeees.”

I came to my first parade in 1991.  I also marched in my first parade in 1991.  At the front, right behind Phil Donohue and Marlo Thomas.  I was 22 years old and, for the very first time, I felt so...arrived.  The bass and the music, the beautiful people.  The color.  “I’m OK.”  I remember the moment of silence for AIDS victims: lying on the street, on my back, directly in front of St. Patrick’s Cathedral.  During that minute, I kept my eyes fixed on the sky and tried to make time stand still.  I recall thinking, I‘ll remember this moment forever and, one day, I’ll want to come back to it. 

Yeah right.  I’m helluh sexier now and supremely happy.  And I don’t spend too much time looking for fun; I try to enjoy the minute I’m currently in.

Like last night at the Saturday ERUPTION party.  Holy crap.  It was a sex crucible.  At one point, while watching Bob get fucked in the sling, I looked around at the men and the scene, and took a mental snapshot.  It was precisely the party I look for every night.

“Sex crucible.”  Note to self: use that.

The right guys, on the right night.  Great vibes, great electricity.  Most had the right kind of head: enjoying the very minute.  The young guys, too; they were more sophisticated.  It’s a lot more fun to be fun.

Last Friday night, Treasure Island shot a porn scene at the space.  Really, really cool.  I’m around sex so much that I wasn’t focused on the dudes fucking, as much as absorbing the whole picture.  The crew were as kind and comfortable as they were professional.  The talent (the dudes fucking) were so unassuming and unpretentious, the types of guys who come to TCH parties.

For the last several months, I’ve been contemplating how far I intend to go with producing porn.  You may have already seen some of my stuff on Xtube.  Observing the Treasure Island shoot may inspire me to pursue it further.

Whatever I do, it’ll be genuine, but hopefully it will be something of which I’ll be proud. I’m not sure just being gay makes me proud, as it’s not a skill nor an achievement; it’s about what I choose to do with that aspect of my character which determines how proud I am.  And where I take it.

If I actually could go back in time to that moment on 5^th Avenue, it wouldn’t be to go back to that point in my life, but to whisper this in my 22-year-old ear.

On Hosting - Post #5

As a young kid, I wasn’t allowed to have friends over.  By the time I was allowed, they were too afraid to come over, anyway.  My parents had a bit of a reputation as very strict and not exactly warm and “hosty.”  Even after I moved out, I still didn’t host anybody for anything....I didn’t know how to.

So the prospect of hosting lots of guys at once, for orgies, was a bit frightening.  Still is.  No matter how many parties I host, the prospect that guys won’t enjoy themselves really sucks.  Scares the shit out of me.  That’s a big part of the reason I try so hard.

You may have noticed that I try a lot of new things, like new party themes, videos on xtube, gadgets like the fog machine, interesting music.  This blog.  It isn’t throwing shit against a wall to see what sticks, it’s all very carefully researched and thought out.  One of the aspects which makes capitalism so great is evolution.  That which adapts will survive, and in a crowded marketplace, new ideas tend to resonate beyond the clatter of all things common.  “Build it and they will come” does not exactly work.

You need more.

Preparing for a party includes much more than the actual setting up, and takes days.  I do a lot (a lot) of administrative work, as well as recruiting, market research, shopping, and video work.  It really is like preparing for a show.  Once the lights go down and the party starts, I can only hope that all that preparation will come to fruition.  Some nights are slow, while others are teeming.  During a party, I do all the things I look for when I go to someone else’s party: a kind and attentive host who at least tries to remember my name; ensure that guys don’t have to wait to check in or check out; plenty of whatever is needed, like paper towels, cups, drinks, munchies, condoms, mouthwash, soap, bags for shoes, bags for clothes, batteries, toilet paper, lube, enemas.

Enemas.  They’re a good indication of the kind of host I am.  No, not (just) because I’m trying to get in your ass, but because they’re important.

I also participate with you guys.

Another integral aspect to a well-run orgy is cleanliness.  This is my home and I’m a pretty fussy guy.  If I go to someone else’s party and I smell urine in the bathroom, I feel taken for granted by the host.  I take none of you for granted.  I even clean the bathroom several times during a party, notably the toilet seat and rim, and the floor around the toilet.  If someone takes a shower, I dry the floor.  Wet socks are just gross!  Especially if it’s piss.

Like for tonight’s party, I have to finish this blog and post it, write the email, make sure that my list is accurate (can’t send to peeps who’ve unsubscribed or jerks who actually reported me as spam…I get the email addresses of those guys), shop for supplies, answer RSVPs, and set up.  I’d also like to burn more discs, but I doubt I’ll get to that.

Hosting three parties per week is a full time job – sometimes upward of two full time jobs.  If a guy doesn’t have a good time, I take it personally (except assholes – I just remove them from my list and move on), but I hope he knows how much I tried and how important he is to me....

....and you can rest assured that I’ll try even harder next time.

So please support me so I can continue to host these parties.  Thank you.

What a Privilege – Post #4

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I’m writing this while sitting in a shady part of the Christopher Street pier. It’s such a privilege to be here, in Manhattan.  There’s so much right outside one’s window – so much that it’s easy to get desensitized to it.

It gets me to thinking about sex parties (surprise, surprise) and the enormous privilege they are.  It’s easy to forget, what with it all so readily available these days. They’ve actually gotten taken for granted.

These are orgies, folks!  Orgies! 

I went to my first party less than four years ago.  I was 37, but I may as well have been 16, I was so utterly blown away by what was going on.  I’d always (and I do mean always) wanted to be part of one.  The idea of being in a room full of men, there at random, having sex with each other, was my fantasy.

Walking around my neighborhood, I constantly see men – just “every day Joes” – I picture in the act.  Picture them naked.  Of course, I can’t just go up to them and tell them to take their clothes off and start fucking, but I can give them a card for my parties (such a head rush to do that).  So I can see them, after all.

The newness of orgies may be gone for me, but the awe I feel is like it’s the first time.  I don’t want to get to the point where watching the Action happening just six inches from my face would be anything but awesome.

Six inches away from my face.  Damn. 

What a privilege.

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Just asking…

Would you believe the restaurant reviews written by a critic who gets a cut of the profits of one of the restaurants he so glowingly reviews?  Wouldn’t that fact invalidate everything that “critic” writes?

I suppose the most important question is would you still go to that restaurant?

Oh, but I’m just asking.

Taking it from a hockey player – Post #3

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Every year around this time there’s a buzz in NHL circles regarding the upcoming entry draft for the new crop of rookies coming up.  Especially for the top five picks, which go to the crappiest teams.  Last year my favorite team picked first, one of the most highly anticipated players ever.  It suggests that things can get better.

It also tells you what kind of year I’d just had.

We drafted “JT” around the time I started hosting parties, and it seems we’ve been sharing a comparable  experience:  the ups and downs, with some of the same lessons.  We each had a strong fall and a very strong spring, while last January we were each going through a scoring drought.

With such high expectations, JT was often asked how he thought he was doing, and he spoke mostly about just playing the best he could; learning all he could, from all the players and games he could.  The veteran players, the “graybeards,” spoke of how he needed to learn to manage the highs and lows: not to get too high after a win, nor too low after a loss.   And overcoming obstacles.

These are lessons this 41-year-old is really just learning now.  There are peaks and valleys with anything, particularly those things which are new, like a new venture.  I’m like JT, one of those players who wants to win every game, to score a hat trick every game.

OK so I like the highs better.

JT had a great rookie season, even if he didn’t score the most goals in the league.  Those of us who have patience with the puck can grin at the fact that there are many winning seasons to look forward to. 

With a lot of goals.