Jason Curious: Jason's Desk

Monday, October 06, 2008

A Good Cause

Holly Madison of E! Entertainment's The Girl Next Door will be a special celebrity host one week from tonight at The 4th Annual Bowling for Boobies breast cancer benefit on Monday, October 13th in Hollywood, California.

Listen up! One in eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in her lifetime. The expenses are more outrageous than most of us could fathom! Unpaid medical bills, lost work time, housekeeping and childcare needs while struggling with chemotherapy effects, travel for out-of-town treatments, integrative treatments for side effects and the cost of fighting and living with cancer.

MAKE A DIFFERENCE IN SOMEONE'S LIFE.

Ladies, come out and join forces!
Men, support those boobies you've loved since birth!
And fags, bring out your hags for a night full of fun!

On MONDAY, OCTOBER 13, come make a donation and make a difference at 6:00 PM at LUCKY STRIKES LANES on Hollywood & Highland

You might be one of the lucky to play on bowling teams with or meet celebs like Holly, Margaret Cho, Pamela Anderson and many more!

Can't make it? Make a quick PayPal donation here! Every bit counts!

To find out more, go to BowlingforBoobies.com!

Mason Wyler Gangraped ...For Real

In what at first seemed a potential PR stunt for an upcoming movie or if nothing else a sick fantasy he was playing out before us, Mason Wyler made claims earlier today in his blog at WylerNation.com to have been raped by a decorated Iraq war Army captain and his friends.

For some reason, Wyler choose to tell the story in the form of a newspaper article -- written by himself -- just hours after being released from the hospital. The article was, he explained, the story as he wished it would have been printed by a local newspaper.

But no newspapers were writing about it.

And even gay porn journalists seemed wary of reporting anything before confirming it wasn't a promotional stunt.

It wasn't until later in the day when he posted a follow up that it became evident, to me at least, that Wyler's story was nothing short of the truth and that he, sadly, had been the victim of a heinous crime -- the kind that takes people a lifetime to get over.

There is no such thing as a "small" rape, though if there were, this one would certainly wouldn't fall in that category, folks. Held down with belts, duct tape and power cords, Wyler was strangled, suffocated, held at gun point, drugged, pissed on, inseminated, and forcefully penetrated with a broomstick.

Think the story and accompanying photos seem like something hot off Kink.com? Wyler thankfully explains he understands that, but many fantasies are meant to remain just that -- fantasy. "I'll admit that I am a slut who has some pretty sick fantasies at times," he writes, "but I never wanted [this] to become a reality."

His two blog postings are as follows unedited:

Rape Reality

ARMY CAPTAIN ACCUSED OF GANG RAPE
By Mason Wyler

October 6, 2008

Promiscuous veteran gay porn model claims
decorated Iraq War Army captain brutally
raped and tortured him with fellow soldiers.

HOUSTON, Texas – Houston Police arrested a 28-year old Army Captain Sunday in connection with a West Houston home invasion from a previous night during which the intruders allegedly raped a man at gunpoint.

Danny Vanarro (not his real name), an Army Captain who served in Iraq, was charged with home invasion, robbery with a firearm, and sexual battery by multiple perpetrators, the Harris County Sheriff's Office reported.

According to a police statement the victim, aged 24, is a sex worker in the gay porn industry known as Mason Wyler. The statement reports that Wyler lost his wallet the night before at a local bar which was eventually found and returned by the Army Captain.

Upon entry of the victim's residence, Vanarro asked Wyler for the reward that was advertised Wyler's MySpace online page. Wyler then gave Vanarro a kiss on the mouth. The accused immediately grabbed Wyler by the neck, dragged him into the kitchen, and demanded money for the return of the wallet. Wyler told the aggressor that he didn't have any cash on him but would go to an ATM and withdraw some. Vanarro became agitated by his response and punched Wyler in the face, knocking him unconscious for a few moments.

Thats when Vanarro pulled out a M9 Pistol and reportedly threatened Wyler's life. The accused then began punching and kicking the victim while he was crying on the ground, police said.

The adult film star was also forced to take off all his clothes and perform oral sex on the Army Captain. Eventually Wyler was immobilized, gagged, and blindfolded with belts and duct tape. Through out the whole ordeal Vanarro supposedly sodomized the victim repeatedly with a broom stick, anally and orally raped the victim while strangling him with a power cord, made the 24-year old drink urine, and brutally beat him.

Wyler also claims that Vanarro inserted the illicit drug GHB into the victims anus to subdue him which left his memory of the incident hazy. The drug test came back positive.

After a few hours Vanarro made a call to invite over some accomplices. AT&T wireless is working with the Harris County Sheriff's office to retrieve Vanarro's call records for the night.

Wyler was then taken into the bedroom, where he was sexually assaulted by at least two other attackers. There identities are still unknown.

After the rapes, the alleged perpetrators went into the bathroom to shower while the victim managed to untie himself and escape to a nearby home, where the occupants called 911. The accused were able to get away before police arrived on the scene but ironically investigators found that Vanarro had left his own wallet behind.

Wyler was taken to Ben Taub Hospital in the Texas Medical Center, where a sexual assault exam was performed. His clothing was collected and was processed at the Sheriff’s Office DNA lab.

The Sheriff's Office sent the material for DNA tests to the Houston PD Crime Lab.

DNA test results from the semen samples collected from the inside of Wyler's anal canal and rectum confirmed that there were at least three different assailants although most of the genetic fluid was from Vanarro.

After results came back with a match for Vanarro, a judge ordered that he be detained at the Harris County Jail with bail set at $15,000.

"There's a good chance he'll be charged as a civilian because the nature of the crime warrants consideration to be charged as a civilian," Chief Assistant State Attorney Jason Ashberry said.

"The case won't be about proving that Mr. Vanarro had anal intercourse with Mr. Wyler, the DNA tests speak for themselves, the case will ultimately be about whether or not it was consensual sex or rape", he added.

Vanarro, if convicted, is facing a mandatory 10-year sentence and up to life in prison.

Captain Danny Vanarro hasn't answered any questions from reporters and only had this to say, "He was begging for it."

Rape Reality Part 2: The Truth

The truth is I did get raped by a guy who claimed to be a Captain in the U.S. Army. And the truth is I did invite him into my home. He was attractive and he looked normal. I guess thats incredibly stupid of me to judge someones character based solely on appearances. But I trust people on day one until they lose it instead of making people earn my trust. We had a bit of small talk, he told me that he was gay, and that he had seen some of my work and kept up with my myspace page. In a joking manner he asked for his reward for finding my wallet and I did come on to him. I kissed him and he kissed me back. But within a few short moments things quickly turned ugly. All the sexual abuses that I listed in my faux news report truthfully happened to me.

Truthfully for the first few hours of the attack I fought back and I fought back hard, I assume that since he was a big strong army guy that he thought it was going to be easy to over power me and get me under control, but I sure as hell surprised him. When he pulled out the gun it scared me shitless and I stopped fighting for a few a bit but then I figured I really was going to die and if that were the case then I'd rather go out fighting instead of being some blubbering victim.

So I started to struggle against him once more. I seriously bit a chunk of flesh out of his upper chest trying to wrestle him off of me, I also tried gouging his eyes out but every attempt I made to break free from him failed.

I was beaten and strangled to the point that I passed out numerous times during the night, each time I came to he was either fucking me or tying me up with whatever he could find. I ended up getting my wrists and ankles tied behind my back, and attached to a belt that was wrapped around my neck so that if I struggled I would end up just strangling myself.

I was screaming for help so loud that he ended up not only blindfolding me but taping my mouth shut. I almost had a helmet of duct tape covering my face and at one point I thought I was going to suffocate to death. When he noticed that I couldn't breath, he took the tape off of my nose, maybe he just wanted me to be alive and in pain while he raped me, I don't know.

Through out the night he kept telling me what some of you have told me, that I wanted it and deserved it for being a whore. The truth is he almost pushed me into believing it. I mean if he had contacted me before coming over, sent me his pictures and told me he wanted to fuck me, instead of being the one who found my wallet, I probably would of invited him over just to get his dick in me. Either way I still would have probably been beaten and raped. But thinking like that made me feel as though I deserved it.

The truth is, I'll admit, that my mind is pretty fucked up. I'll admit that I my sexual promiscuity has put myself at risk countless times and until the other night I have been pretty lucky. I'll admit that I am a slut who has some pretty sick fantasies at times BUT this twisted fantasy was always meant to be just that, a fantasy, I never wanted it to become a reality. Just because someone is a slut who talks dirty doesn't give anyone the right to abuse that person.

The truth is that the rapist did call over some friends to use me once he had gotten his fill of me. By then the drugs (which I was unaware that he had injected me with at the time) had already taken affect and I was much more subdued and mellow. My muscles started to go limp, including my ass, which the gang of murderers and rapists interpreted as me wanting more cock up my hole. If I could of shit on them I would of.

The truth is that they did shower and leave as I escaped. My first instinct was to yell at my neighbors because I know they were home and I KNOW they could hear me screaming for help through the walls. AND YET LIKE MOST FUCKING AMERICANS, THEY DID NOTHING. Some people are so afraid to get involved in other peoples lives when they need it most. You always read those horror stories of kids getting raped in apartment complexes where the neighbors hear it but don't call the cops.. then act all shocked when they find out exactly what was going on... I was sickened to hear that and ENRAGED when it happened to me.

The truth is I did call the police after I escaped. Six of them showed up, Four of them were ex-military, and all of them were assholes. The FIRST thing they asked was, "Have you been doing any illegal substances or drinking?" and keep in mind they knew why they were called over.

I said no.

My blood was pumping, mind racing,I was going nuts, and I had no idea that the guy had squirted GHB into my asshole. I just thought he wanted to get my insides wet, hell he shoved ice cubes up in me. I think the bastard just got off seeing me squirm in pain. As hard as it is for some of you to believe, I have NEVER done any drugs other than marijuana, which I don't consider a drug anyway. So I didn't know that the effects I was feeling was from a drug and not from getting knocked around and choked so many times.

They took my answer with a grain of salt.

I wrote the article because its the way my case should of been handled when the police arrived, the way I wish it was handled. They should done an initial thorough search and found certain items that I found later. They shouldn't have laughed at, They should of taken this accusation seriously and involved people with more power. Instead I was treated with a great deal of skepticism much like some of the posters have treated me. Right from the start I felt like I was the one who committed the crime. They all had looks of doubt. "Come on, you love sex...and with a guy in the military, thats like a dream come true for you, just admit it you sick fagot and stop wasting our time", is what I'm sure they were thinking.

I'm not your average joe in terms of personality, I can't shut up under normal circumstances and last night I couldn't stop talking for the life of me, it might have been the drugs that were forced into my body or it might have been the sudden adrenaline rush I was feeling after I escaped, but either way I couldn't shut up, which led the cops to believe I was just a cracked out fagot that wanted it and was just freaking out.

Like some of you have said, rape victims have a hard time talking about their situation with loved ones and friends, let alone a public forum BUT FUCK THAT. I want everyone out there to know that there are some sick fucks in all types of uniforms and to be cautious. I told my neighbors, the cops, my friends, my mother, my brother, the nurses at the hospital, the lady at the front desk that asked what happened, and any body else who stared at my fucked up face. Screw being ashamed and quiet about it. I was kind of proud that I gave a guy who was almost 6'2" and probably 220 lbs a pretty good fight. AND yes I know thats pretty fucked up that a slut who just got raped is proud and I'm sure the cops were thinking the same thing.

It probably didn't help that I had copies of my porn laying all over the house when they came in to collect evidence. And it probably didn't help that I didn't follow their orders to just sit down and not to walk around to keep me from smudging any finger prints the rapist may have left behind. And I sure as hell didn't help when I made a whole bunch of nasty comments about people in the armed forces, I was pissed off and couldn't help it. SERIOUSLY, I didn't know there was a certain way you're suppose to act after you get raped. Do they offer a rape victims etiquette class? I should probably take it. I'm surprised there aren't more insane crazy rape victims out there, because I'm seriously about to go off my rocker!

The cops were serious assholes though, while two of the investigators were busy finger printing my whole house, the other four were holding me hostage in my living room. "JUST SIT THERE SIR, WE DON'T WANT YOU CONTAMINATING EVIDENCE", one pig oinked. "Uh. I need to take a piss", I said. "Well they haven't collected evidence from the bathroom yet and you might have some of their DNA on you so you probably shouldn't do anything until we get to the hospital", the asshole in blue said. I seriously wanted to yell, "THE DNA IS IN MY ASSHOLE YOU FUCKING PIG!" But I was at least able to keep that to myself.

I kept asking them, "I'm sure you will get a DNA match after my exam, why on earth do you need to take all my stuff?" to which they replied "We just just have to"... "We just have to?" thats not a very good reason. On top of that they things that had nothing to do with the case, like my main computer, my cell phone, and my clothes, the clothes that I had on when the guy came over and just random clothes on the floor. One pig told me that once the stuff becomes evidence, I'd probably never get them back, and the stupid fucking piece of shit chuckled, like it was funny.

Two of the cops were talking about rough sex with their wives and how they have to pin them down... not saying they're rapists.. just saying that talking about rough sex at a rape scene.... WOW... seriously?

After they collected my statement and "evidence" they took me to the shittiest hospital in a city that has the worlds best medical center... where I got to wait, then wait some more, and wait some more. Then finally after 5 hours of waiting along side hobo's, hookers, and heroine addicts I was finally put in a room where I got wait another hour for a fucking rape kit, a medical exam that took about 15 minutes to complete. And just to put icing on the cake was handed a medical bill for the exam, $100. LOVELY.

The police then took me to give my statement to a detective, a bitch detective that kept questioning whether or not it was consensual and if I was SURE about pressing charges. She kept saying it won't be a matter of proving he was at your place, just a matter of proving it was rape. When they were finally done belittling me they handed me a card with a case number on the back, "Call if you want to press charges", they said - the number on the front was the number for the traffic violations office. WOW THEY REALLY DO CARE.

When I finally got home I found my walls, carpet, and furniture covered in black finger print dust not to mention the drops of blood spattered across the floor. Not one of the drops of the blood looked as if they had been swabbed for samples... something I thought the police would want to match with the DNA taken from my hole. And upon further investigation I found something even more startling... the tape and papers used to collect finger prints.. all of it containing the assholes finger prints were crumpled up and thrown into my trash can. I also found the fuckers wallet.

For those of you who seem to be genuinely worried about me, don't be, I'll be fine, I was already pretty messed up before this so maybe this will make me less of a stupid slut. Maybe this will get me to quit doing porn and try incredibly hard at a normal lifestyle.

I checked myself into a hotel room because I couldn't stand to be in that house alone. It wreaked of sweat, piss, and rapist cum. I have been sitting here ever since, playing the events over and over in my head, thinking about what he did to me, trying to figure out what I should do about it, planning my revenge, and then I wrote that article. Like I said earlier, the report was written by me but the crime reported in it is fact. The only things that aren't fact are the names and what the police did and said. It was only how I wished the police department would of handled it.

The truth is, no he hasn't been arrested because the police don't know who he is. I didn't hand his wallet in to the police, and I don't think I will. I just don't see them helping me. And no, I'm not sure I want to press charges because I don't think I can win the case. I don't want my whole private sex life to be dragged out in court and in front of my family. I'd rather get revenge and let that be my justice. I just need to find out who the other guys were.

I'm done trying to prove that I'm telling the truth, if you don't believe me then FUCK you and quit reading my blog. LIKE RIGHT NOW. JUST CLICK THE X. I usually welcome people's criticisms and differing opinions.. but this isn't about your opinion... its about my health and well-being. I WRITE BECAUSE IT MAKES ME FEEL BETTER. Is that pathetic to you??? THEN GO FUCK YOURSELF!

For those of you who are truly my fans and friends, please excuse my erratic behavior. I'm a mess right now.

I've been writing and talking about it to whoever will listen, hoping to write and talk about it so much that I have nothing left to say about it and can hopefully move on.

A few last words:

*FUCK THE TROOPS. THE IRAQ WAR IS BULLSHIT AND IF YOU FUCKING THINK THEY'RE OVER THERE FIGHTING FOR OUR FREEDOM THEN YOU ARE AS FUCKING STUPID AS THEY COME AND YOU SHOULD FUCKING DIE. I'M NOT SAYING ALL TROOPS ARE RAPIST. I JUST HATE THEM RIGHT NOW.

SF Weekly Reports Michael Brandon Arrested for Selling Drugs

From close friends to former employers, everyone's been tight lipped regarding the whereabouts of Michael Brandon for over the past year. The closest most of us could get following rumors ranging from illness to death was a best bud claiming Brandon was indeed "alive" but didn't wish for people to know or inquire about him and that we should respect his wishes.

So we did.

That is until the SF Weekly caught up with him in court for selling crystal meth, ecstasy and speed, describing him as "a withered character in a Tim Burton film, nothing like the wiry blond stud who twice took home the highest honor in gay porn, the GayVN Performer of the Year."

The following article titled "The Rise and Fall of a Monster," paints Brandon's final days as a free man to be wrought with a fear for his future, an eagerness to get back to his motel to shoot up and a hope that talking to the reporter might help others avoid crystal meth.

I'm printing it in its entirety. For those of you who have just heard about it, but not read it fully, please take the time. It's an important one.

The Rise and Fall of the Monster
Gay porn star Michael Brandon goes from meth addict to antidrug poster boy and, tragically, back to meth addict.
By Ashley Harrell

When the careworn, emaciated man in the powder-blue long-sleeved button-down shirt drifted in through the courtroom doors, not many took note. For all anyone knew, he was just another junkie who had stolen or trespassed or sold drugs or gotten ratted out by some other junkie.

Aside from a reporter, nobody seemed to suspect this man might be a beloved San Franciscan gay porn icon with a 10-inch cock nicknamed Monster and a line of dildos created in its likeness. This guy now looked like a withered character in a Tim Burton film, nothing like the wiry blond stud who twice took home the highest honor in gay porn, the GAYVN Performer of the Year. It was conceivable that this wasn't the man at all.

He settled in the second-to-last row of the courtroom, took a long, slow breath, and gazed at the floor.

The reporter approached. "Are you Michael Brandon?"

The man's distressed blue eyes flicked up and he nodded.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

He didn't.

In fact, at that very moment, Michael Brandon was very much in need of someone to sit with. In June, a confidential police informant had reported that Brandon was selling crystal meth while motel surfing, or moving from place to place under aliases to avoid attention. The police found him and arrested him soon after; he was charged with three felonies for selling meth, speed, and Ecstasy.

It was like a remake of a bad movie. Though Brandon had been on top of his game for the past eight years, he had spent most of the '90s in Orange County, addicted to crystal meth. From those days, he had two felony convictions from two separate arrests. He had spent more than three years in state prison, and had no interest in going back.

"I'm scared," he whispered. He was shaking.

Brandon admitted he had also been trembling earlier that morning when he tried to inject meth into his arm. Now he was afraid somebody would recognize how messed up he was, and that police would take him into custody. That would mean no more meth for a really long time. It would also mean that his boyfriend, Marcos Monzon — who was on his way to the courthouse — would see him in cuffs. Their four-year anniversary, which they hadn't yet celebrated, was the day before.

Brandon clasped his hands in his lap, revealing a fingernail on his left hand hanging from the nail bed by a thin fiber. Apparently he smashed it in a motel door — not surprising, considering his current lifestyle.

For most of the past year, Brandon said he had spent much of his time in motels and on the streets, injecting himself with meth and getting involved in drug deals. When this hearing was over, he expected to go directly to a motel to shoot up. It's not something he's proud of, but he can't manage to stop yet. He seemed to be in disbelief that it had come to this.

In the '90s club scene, particularly the gay club scene, crystal meth was considered glamorous, and its dangers were somewhat unknown. For many, it held the promise of hot, long-lasting, intimate sex; plenty in the gay porn industry partook of the drug in their off time. Early this decade, it finally became clear that meth was highly addictive and could suck away years of people's lives, devastating minds and bodies. Enchantment with the drug was replaced with revulsion, and the state of California and San Francisco's Department of Health began funding public awareness campaigns such as "Hot Sex Without Crystal? Hell Yes!"

Michael Brandon knows that ad campaign well — he was its spokesman. After his initial recovery, he became a powerful and prominent example of how meth could be beaten, and he spoke often about his desire to save others from the despair and darkness he had known. But even with eight years in recovery, a luminous career in porn, and the adoration of those who knew him, Michael Brandon couldn't save himself.

After Superior Court Judge Gail Dekreon calls his name, Brandon's demeanor and movements change. His self-pity and fear disappear behind a quick and confident step, perhaps meant to suggest that he's doing just fine. His lawyer, Stephen Rosen, barely makes eye contact with him, then turns to the judge and requests a continuance. Brandon shifts his weight back and forth, unsuccessfully tries to smooth the wrinkles in his shirt, and clasps his hands behind his back, as if they're already in cuffs.

He seems to be holding his breath, and finally Judge Dekreon nods. The next court date will be Friday, September 26, at 2:30 p.m. "You can sleep in," she tells Brandon with a smile.

In the back of the courtroom, the recently arrived Monzon smiles, too.

As they exit the courthouse into the warming August morning, Brandon and Monzon are walking hand in hand. They decide to grab some food at the McDonald's next door, and invite the reporter along.

By the time Brandon has ordered Southern-style chicken biscuits and chosen a rickety, isolated table at the back of the restaurant, his relief at retaining his freedom seems to have given way to self-criticism. He stares at the wobbling table, then says with a smirk, "I can relate." He picks uninterestedly at his food, mulling over whether he wants to be part of a newspaper story that would reveal the uncomfortable details of his relapse, but which could also help others more fully understand the dangers of meth.

All the while, one of Brandon's cellphones — he has two, apparently — is buzzing with text messages. If this disturbs Monzon, it doesn't show on his boyishly handsome, lightly freckled face. Speaking in a lightning-fast Hispanic accent about his partner's weeks-at-a-time disappearances, be betrays no emotion. After a few months, he says, he simply got used to it. "I'm standing by him," he says softly.

At the end of the meal, Brandon gazes at the floor, and rocks his upper body back and forth. His brow is pinched in a way that suggests he is thinking hard. Suddenly his posture goes rigid and his expression turns stoic. "I'll do it," he says. "I'll do the story."

It's agreed that the reporter will telephone Brandon in a couple of days to start the interviews. If he doesn't answer, just keep calling, he says. Sometimes he gets paranoid. Sometimes he just needs a few days. Sometimes he just disappears.

In the meantime, the reporter needs to learn more about Brandon's shadowy past. In the late '80s and early '90s, Brandon worked at a bar in Orange County called the Frat House, and it turns out his first boyfriend, David Leony, still works there. Through conversations with Leony and a study of Brandon's interviews with the media, a basic picture of his history comes into view.

Back then, his name was Michael Phillips. He grew up with three brothers and a sister in Santa Maria, a city in Santa Barbara County known for wine and barbecue. After graduating high school, he worked as a regional manager for Taco Bell and married his high school sweetheart. They divorced after Brandon decided he preferred the company of men.

In the four years he and Leony spent together, they liked to go out dancing at clubs, and often traveled to Hawaii and Tijuana. In 1988, Brandon quit his fast-food job and became a bartender at the Frat House. Then he started hanging out with a fast crowd of meth-using gay men.

Brandon was very private about his drug use, Leony said. He would disappear for days at a time, and eventually stopped bartending. Then things started to go missing, like Leony's leather jacket. One time, while on drugs, Brandon fell off a roof and broke an arm and both legs. Every cop in town knew who he was, Leony recalls. Eventually, meth tore the couple apart. "He's the only boyfriend I ever cried about when we broke up," Leony said. "I just couldn't do a damn thing about it."

Though he didn't tell Leony back then, Brandon entered the world of pornography in 1989 after answering an ad in Frontiers magazine and interviewing with Los Angeles agent Johnny Johnson. Brandon's Dirk Diggler–esque 10-inch cock and bright blue eyes made him a shoo-in; he quickly wound up starring in two films, Ranger Nick and Air Male.

But then the drug took over. Orange County court records reveal that Brandon was convicted in 1990 of possession of controlled substances, and again in 1997 of possession with intent to sell and served those three years in state prison.

Upon his release in 1999, Brandon found rehab, kicked the habit, and got back in touch with Johnson. He began working for a variety of porn studios, including Raging Stallion in San Francisco. At the time, one of its owners, Chris Ward, had been pondering something new and different — a more "gonzo" style of man-on-man sex. Brandon reminisces on his Web site that Ward wanted it to be "aggressive to the point of brutality," and for that, he needed dominating tops with big dicks. "I found my top in you," Ward told him.

The legend of Michael Brandon was born.

To understand Brandon's appeal, you need only consult his fans on the Internet. A quick search of various Web sites discussing Brandon, Monster, and his work revealed the following comments:

"If I could spend an hour alone with just one porn star, there's no doubt it would be Michael Brandon," one wrote. "Michael Brandon almost drips confidence. He knows his way around a cock, and he knows exactly how to talk to a man who is sucking on Monster ... He's warm, caring, kind, considerate, really down to earth guy. Plus, the sex we had will be engraved in my mind for life!"

Those fans saw a new, totally sober Brandon. The guy they knew was a career-driven rising star, but also a sweetheart who had time to answer every piece of fan e-mail. He had a fan-focused Web site, http://www.xxxmichaelbrandon.com/, where he posted free photos and videos, and a journal seemingly written by Monster. The site received the Cybersocket Web Award for Best Porn Site in 2004, 2005, and 2006.

Between 1999 and 2006, Brandon starred in more than 150 films, including Pokin' in the Boys Room, LumberJacked, and Ass Pounding Hunks II. In 2002, he became a partial owner of Raging Stallion and began producing films, and in 2003 he made his directing debut — all rare and difficult transitions for most porn stars.

Brandon's onscreen work gained recognition in 2002, when he won Performer of the Year at the GAYVN Awards (essentially the Oscars of gay porn). The next year, he tied with Colton Ford for the title, making history as the only guy to win twice in a row. In the 2002 Adult Erotic Video Awards (aka the Grabbys), he was named best performer, and the next year he made the Grabby Wall of Fame. In 2005, he received a Grabby for Hottest Cock. Finally, in 2006, he was inducted into the GAYVN Hall of Fame.

A skilled self-promoter, Brandon was also able to turn his penis into a celebrity. Monster — so named by an admirer — has its own e-mail address and video subdivision at Raging Stallion, Monster Bang, which has put out Trouser Trout, Tailpipes, and Ass Quest I and II, among others. In 2004, Brandon created the Monster dildo, which comes in four variations — fleshtone or ice-colored, and vibrating or not. On one Web site, customers have posted ecstatic reviews, complaining only that the dildo is so big that "there isn't enough alcohol in the world to loosen me up that much." Brandon has admitted in several interviews that he owns one, and is fond of saying, "I now know what it is like to get fucked by me."

Fellow porn stars loved and feared Monster. Ford remembers a scene in a movie he did with Brandon several years ago in which Ford played a restaurant chef. Apparently the food he served was so delicious that all the male diners — including Brandon — decided to get it on. Ford remembers prominent porn director Chi Chi LaRue telling him she wanted to see Brandon pounding his butt, but he politely declined. "My sphincter is lovely," Ford says. "I wanted to keep it intact."

Many in the industry say the diversification Brandon has achieved makes him comparable to a straight porn star like Jenna Jameson. It also allowed him to do the near impossible and make a living in gay porn. Most stars create names for themselves in porn, then charge exorbitant prices for escort work. Though Brandon did that for a while, everything changed when Monzon came into the picture.

Their meet-cute happened in 2004 at a Los Angeles street fair where Brandon was signing autographs. Monzon's sister, a lesbian who sometimes watched Brandon's movies with her girlfriend, asked her brother to photograph them together. Monzon had never heard of the porn actor, but the two men hit it off and soon became an item. Brandon told an Internet magazine that he gave up escort work for Monzon, and that during the cum shots in his movies, "I picture his big green eyes and I shoot a big load thinking of him."

Brandon was also an active discoverer of new talent, traveling to cities around the country for contests. He also hosted parties and community events, so it's not surprising that when the San Francisco Department of Health's Stonewall Project launched the "Hot Sex Without Crystal? Hell Yes!" program, Brandon was at the top of its spokesman list. "Porn stars hold a much more revered spot in the gay male community than they do in the straight population," Stonewall founder Michael Siever says. "They're looked up to and admired." Brandon, he says, was the kind of guy who would use his influence to help other people.

On his blog, Brandon detailed his own reasons for getting involved in the campaign. On meth, he wrote, he had crossed every "never line" he had drawn for himself. He'd missed work for drugs, failed to pay bills, used a needle, become homeless, gone to jail, sold drugs on corners, spent hours trying to get an erection, gone crazy with paranoia, and even resorted to violence. "I'm walking, living proof that there is life after crystal meth," he wrote. "Folks don't need to lose their mind, end up in jails, hospitals, on the streets, or turned away by family members. ... I've already been there for you."

The porn industry and gay community respected Brandon for his honesty about his past, and anointed him a do-gooder and a hero. When Brandon was asked by an interviewer from Gay.com what his treasured possession was, the answer was obvious: "My recovery," he said. "Without it, I wouldn't have any of the rest."

Crystal meth was not just a gay man's drug, as some of the anti-meth ad campaigns in San Francisco seem to suggest. But almost everyone agrees that, for gays, meth use became an epidemic approaching the level of AIDS. According to San Francisco therapist Michael Halyard, "What happened to gay men with crystal meth was the perfect storm."

By the late '90s, the Internet had become an easy way for gay men who felt alienated to connect and arrange to have sex on drugs. That's when the phrase PnP, for "Party and Play," came into common usage. More often than not, PnP means use of crystal meth. It was easy to get, inexpensive, and highly addictive. It also had a great appeal for insecure people with body image issues and cravings for intimacy. (In interviews, Brandon has said that he's afflicted by low self-esteem, and that although he works in porn, he prefers cuddling to sex.)

"Many gay men have had lots of rejection in their lives, and when you PnP, you suddenly feel accepted," Halyard says. Studies show that because shame and inhibitions are out the window, meth users are more likely to engage in unsafe sex. The drug also increases energy level and sexual appetite, a big selling point with guys who are depressed or HIV-positive. Though taking meth usually makes it difficult to get an erection, there's always Viagra.

Unsafe sex during PnP sessions is now the number one way HIV and other STDs are transmitted in gay men, Halyard says, and prolonged meth use can also cause permanent personality changes. "For some, their brain doesn't quite work the same ever again," he says. "They can't remember stuff as well or think clearly. Some even become permanently paranoid."

For gay men, treating the drug addiction alone is often not enough. It's actually a PnP addiction, Halyard says, because the crystal is inextricably linked to the sex. The therapist has had many men call for an appointment, then never show. Others come once or twice and then disappear. "PnP is a very tough addiction to beat, so my advice is don't start," he says.

Back in the '90s, that advice wasn't quite so prevalent. Meth was considered thrilling by those on the partying scene; it fueled inane conversations and harrowing adventures across social strata. People inhaled it, snorted it, and, in the worst cases, injected it. Some seemed to become addicted overnight, ultimately losing jobs, families, and anything else they might have cared about.

Others were able to better manage the drug. Sister Roma, an outspoken member of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence (an ostentatiously queer community outreach group), snorted meth for 15 of the 20 years she worked as a drag queen and in the porn industry as a director for Hot House. Her reasons were simple: "It was fun," she says. It seemed everyone around her was doing it back then, she says.

Sister Roma remembers tweakers showing up at the studio, ready to try their bodies at porn, and believes it was the meth that gave them the courage. It's not that the people in the industry ever encouraged it, she says. Sometimes, they just turned a blind eye.

Porn star Marcus Irons remembers a time about five years ago when he was forced to appear in a scene with a guy who was tweaking. It wasn't all that hot, he remembers. The guy had "meth mouth," or tooth loss and decay, and he was sweating profusely.

Though Sister Roma says she never lost her mind or her teeth, partying took a toll on her body. She remembers climbing the stairs to work one day two years ago and being short of breath, then collapsing. She was rushed to the hospital with a broken ankle, where her recovery began. She has no delusions about being cured of her addiction: "Our sobriety is very tentative," she says.

Around 2003, crystal meth had become a community bogeyman, Sister Roma remembers. Too many users had watched their friends and loved ones wind up unhealthy, imprisoned, and, in some cases, dead. After observing all the destruction, people began to view meth as the least glamorous drug around.

Several recent searches for "PnP" among the men-seeking-men ads on Craigslist reveal that most now request "No PnP." And according to a city-funded survey of 5,000 gay men between 2003 and 2006, meth use among HIV-negative men had decreased from 11.8 to 6.6 percent, while among HIV-positive men it had dropped from 24.8 to 19.9 percent. Supervisor Bevan Dufty told the Bay Area Reporter that since the city had recognized the meth problem, six agencies battling meth had grown to 34, and that funding for research, care, and counseling had increased from $400,000 to $1.8 million. Though community leaders acknowledged the improvement, they called for even more awareness. That's when the health department launched "Hot Sex Without Crystal!"

Perhaps the most prominent face in that anti-meth campaign was, of course, Michael Brandon. Then in October 2007, while moving a couch to retrieve a cat toy, Brandon says he pulled something in his back. He fought the pain with painkillers for a while, he says, but one morning he woke up, stared at the ceiling, and thought about something else that might help.

Tweakers all have something they like to do on drugs. Many want to have sex; others enjoy vacuuming the house, taking off all their clothes, or climbing buildings. For Brandon, the high often leads to entrepreneurship. "I like to do business," he said.

By "business," he meant hooking others up with drugs and staying at different motels every night to avoid drawing attention to himself. That's what he was doing in June last year when the confidential informant told Inspector Daniel Cunningham what Brandon was up to and where he could be found. Of course, that informant isn't exactly an angel. According to the warrant, he is a convicted felon who is assisting police for monetary purposes. Many details of the case are sealed because revealing the information could endanger the life of the informant. The warrant says he directed the officer to a motel, but Cunningham declined to comment for this story because Brandon's court case is ongoing.

Although Brandon said the reporter would have the chance to witness his motel-surfing lifestyle firsthand, text messages and phone calls to him went unreturned. This wasn't all that surprising, considering he had disappeared on nearly everyone else in his life.

In October 2007, he had called in sick to Raging Stallion for a week, co-owner Kent Taylor said. One week became two. Then Brandon wasn't responding to anyone's calls. "He was a partner," Taylor said. "He's still one of the owners of the company, and he's just disappeared." Eventually, Brandon was replaced by a temp, who was hired full-time a few months later. "It was one of the few times since I've been in business with Chris Ward when I've actually seen him cry," Taylor said. Brandon also cut off contact with his friends from Orange County.

The next and final meeting with Brandon took place on his next court date of Sept. 26, a cloudless Friday. Brandon and Monzon had just come from McDonald's, where Brandon again ordered the Southern-style chicken biscuits. "My last meal," he joked without smiling.

In dark sunglasses and a woolly beard, he gave a quick hug hello, revealing a still-skeletal frame beneath his long-sleeved white button-down shirt. He hadn't received any of the reporter's communications, he said with a shrug.

As for where he'd been, he said he was still using, and that he'd been "running around, running away from myself, I guess." He had seen Monzon just three times since the last court date, and never spent the night at their home.

Brandon looked fresher than he had a month ago and seemed slightly more relaxed. "I'm not nearly as spun out as I was last month," he said. "I've slowed down, but I'm still nervous." Because he again believed he might be taken into custody after the hearing, he had organized his belongings and taken care of last items of business. "It sucks. It sucks being where I'm at," he said. "Looking in the mirror, I tell myself, Just put the needle down. Walk away and walk over to Marcos. It doesn't happen."

Brandon's legal problems seemed only to exacerbate his addiction. "With so much turmoil, it gives me relief from my head," he said. Then he said he had to go, and started up the concrete staircase to the courthouse.

The former porn star walked inside and over to a garbage can, where he discarded his iced tea. What he didn't know was that an undercover cop in a Hawaiian shirt was lying in wait.

As Brandon headed for the security line, the cop made his move. Over just a few short seconds, the officer whipped out a pair of cuffs, closed in, pushed Brandon up against the wall, and bound his wrists. Brandon's jaw was tensed in panic as the cop dragged him past the security check and out an emergency door, setting off a loud alarm.

Upstairs in the courthouse, the judge called for Brandon, and Monzon — who had wandered up in the hope that his partner might still make his hearing — called out from his seat. "They took him," he told the judge. "He was on his way here and they took him."

The judge considered issuing a bench warrant, then laughed: "He's in custody here, so what do I have to bench warrant him for?" He rescheduled the hearing for Tuesday, Sept. 30.

When Monzon learned Brandon would be locked up for the weekend, he quickly left the courthouse, made some calls, and learned that Brandon had been arrested on a new drug possession charge. The SFPD released no other details, though it's conceivable that Brandon will now face four felony charges.

If Monzon wants to get his partner out of jail, he'll have to come up with $5,000 of Brandon's $50,000 bail. He isn't sure he's ready to do that just yet. "I might leave him in there for a week or so," he said. "How do I know this won't happen again?"

Though Michael Brandon won't like it, jail may be the only place where he can battle the monster within.

Thank you Ashley Harrell for such a brilliant article and to SF Weekly for having the guts to publish it. Michael too should be commended for his bravery to talk to them. (I was also incredibly impressed with Sister Roma's honesty! Wow!)

Get well soon, Michael. You were a good friend and we all have missed you terribly and we have all sadly lost -- temporarily, I hope -- one of the foundations of the gay adult video community.

Monday, September 29, 2008

Zeb & Adam Scene Makes Online Debut

It's arrived! The long-awaited hardcore debut of Zeb Atlas and Adam Killian.

But only at FalconStudios.com until the movie itself, Falcon's forthcoming two-parter, Best Men, is available in October.

Never fear though! You can purchase it as a separate scene without becoming a member or join now and get the full movie (and all other Falcon releases - yup, the entire library for it's members!) in its entirety online when it is released. Check it all out at FalconStudios.com.

I gotta say... despite the fact that it was a bit overhyped, it does look like a pretty hot scene!

But we're still way more excited about our earlier post regarding hottie Dean Coxx getting his bubble butt plowed for the first time at ClubDean.com!

What do you guys think?

NUMBERS Remains The Spot for Hookers & Their Bookers

NUMBERS Bar & Restaurant in West Hollywood just launched their official MySpace page MINUTES ago! You can add them at: http://www.myspace.com/numberswesthollywood

NUMBERS, in the heart of West Hollywood on Santa Monica Blvd., has a history as infamous to locals as its name! Before the days of back page escort ads and online escort sites like RentBoy.com, NUMBERS was the only place in Los Angelesgenerous gay gentlemen could go to grab not only a gourmet meal but a gorgeous boy for dessert! Today it remains the hottest "hook up" spot in West Hollywood where the young and the old merge, in more ways than one, for great food and fun! You can catch many of our porn star/escort friends dining and dancing there on a nightly basis!

These days they're hotter than ever with 2 for 1 dinner deals, half-priced premium well drinks at happy hour, $1 shot nights and weekly events like Thursday's "Eye Candy" go-go boy night with $5.00 premium well drinks ALL NIGHT plus SHOT SPECIALS $1 @ 9 pm, $2 @ 10 pm, $3 @ 11 pm! Then on Friday's it's muscle bound bodybuilder dancers for "Strength" night and on Saturday's it's "HUSTLE" where each and every one of the go-go boys is a working escort so you can sample the merchandise before you buy! ;-)

NUMBERS is located at 8745 Santa Monica Blvd., 2nd Floor, West Hollywood, California 90069 -- on the corner of Santa Monica Blvd. and Hancock. (Parking is available off Hancock.) To reserve your table and/or bottle service for an evening, please call 310-652-7700.

The hustle continues!

Dean Coxx Gets Fucked!

He's been teasing us for years now, but bi-curious Internet super stud, Dean Coxx, seems to have finally for the first time gone “all the way" for his official web site, ClubDean.com. Coxx gets it up the butt from one of his own site's discoveries, Stevan, and with a bubble butt like Dean's, you can bet it's a scene that has had everyone's tongue wagging!

When it comes to the straight muscle boys doing their "first time" thing, we're not usually all that excited to be honest. But Dean's the sweetest and this one really makes us swoon!

Here's a few sample pics Dean shot us to get you to go see more at ClubDean.com! ;-)

Shouldn't take much to convince you! He's got, in our estimation, the hottest bubble butt in the online porn world.

Friday, September 26, 2008

THIS FRIDAY NIGHT!: Porn Stars and Hookers Invade West Hollywood!

FRIDAY NIGHT!

Come Meet, Greet & Fondle
GAY XXX SUPER STUD
DOMINIK RIDER
Interviewed Live On Stage at Here Lounge's
"PORN STAR HAPPY HOUR" - HOSTED BY JASON SECHREST
696 N. Robertson ... 6:30 pm - 9:00 pm

ALSO AT "PORN STAR HAPPY HOUR" THIS WEEK!
Watch the Presidential Debates LIVE! And then...
JONATHAN CHANG & JASON SECHREST'S
"WEST HOLLYWOOD SOCIALITE DEBATES"

The Voices of Reason in Weho SPEAK OUT AGAINST....
.....wait, what were we talking about?

* Come ask us all the most important questions about the most non-important issues in Weho tonight!

PLUS DVD GIVEAWAYS & 1/2 PRICE DRINKS!
IT'S THE HORNIEST HAPPY HOUR ON EARTH!

www.dominikriderxxx.blogspot.com

www.jasoncurious.com/blackbook/dominikrider.html

www.myspace.com/jonathanrchang

www.HereLounge.com

THEN AT 9:00 PM!

JOIN US AS WE WALK FROM HERE LOUNGE TO NUMBERS FOR...

RENTBOY.COM NIGHT @ NUMBERS!

Hosted by Brandon Baker and his RentBoy.com Posse!

MORE HOOKERS THAN YOU CAN SHAKE YOUR STICKS AT!

8745 Santa Monica Blvd., 2nd Floor, West Hollywood 90069

www.rentboy.com

www.partywithbrandon.com

www.thehustlecontinues.com

THEN FINALLY!

Anthony Cortez Presents
[ COCK BLOCK ]

The Hottest. The Downright Dirtiest. The Most Outrageous. The Most Private.
PARTY! PARTY! PARTY! PARTY!

Ticket Holders & [CB] Members ONLY!

Want tickets and info on the TOP SECRET location?
EMAIL: ACPresents@aol.com

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Steve Cruz's "Blue Movie" Set Raided By LAPD

Well, as mentioned yesterday, it was supposed to be the final day of shooting his directorial debut, Blue Movie, for Mustang Studios. But it seems Steve Cruz will have to make up for lost time since the set was raided late this afternoon by the Los Angeles Police Department.

The LAPD says they received an anonymous tip as to where Cruz was shooting without permits. Since shooting indoors is an incedibly unlikely place for LAPD to raid and since only Falcon/Mustang employees knew the location of the shoot, Cruz and Falcon publicist Troy Prickett are claiming it was an "inside job" and that it should be obvious who tipped them off.

So who do you think it was? Or do you think the whole thing is just one big publicity stunt?

Shooting will resume on Blue Movie in San Francisco this weekend.

.......AT THE FOLLOWING LOCATION!

LOL... Just kidding.

Happy Anniversary!

Two months!

Listen boys, you've already exceeded many's expectations. I'm so proud of you both.

Oh and by the way, I LIVE HERE NOW!!!!!!!!!!!

Jenna Jameson Is Having Twins!

Whoa! That's right!

Jenna Jameson announced today in her MySpace blog that she is having twins!

TWINS!

Pro fighter Tito Ortiz is, of course, the proud father!

Here's what Jenna had to say in her own words:

Yes everyone, I can officially confirm that Tito and I are expecting twins! I had my second ultrasound today and was greeted by two big healthy babies with pounding hearts. I can't even express the extreme serenity that came over me once I saw my children inside me. It has been my dream to have children for an exremely long time, and I truly feel like finally... the time is right and god has blessed me. I have never felt more like a woman, or more alive.

Tito is happier than I have ever seen him, it is so fulfilling to see him so proud. He looked me in the eye today after our doctors appointmet and said "I'm the luckiest man on earth... thank you for having my babies". I cried.

i have been spending my days on bedrest, not because it is doctor ordered... but because, I am so incredibly fatigued and nauseous. Its hard to drag myself out of bed some mornings, which is hard for me... since I am always so active! I have officially gained 7 pounds so far, and am planning on a lot more. I crave fruit by the gallon... ornages and pineapple are at the top of my list. Cereal at 3 am suits me every night!

Lastly, I want to thank all of you for your unwavering support. It means so much to me, I don't think you even know. There are a lot of nasty comments from insensitive people, but in my state of incredible happiness... It doesnt matter what they say!

I love all of you!

JJ

Congratulations, gurl -- you've come so far. It seems like just yesterday I was banging that hot straight guy in front of you while you and his girlfriend diddled yourself.

But it was 2001.

Good for you though! I'm not ready to grow up quite THAT much yet! ;-)

Monday, September 22, 2008

Special Event Tuesday Night!

ONE NIGHT ONLY... THIS TUESDAY!

PORN DIRECTRIXXX & DJ - CHI CHI LARUE
SPINS THE TUNES LIVE AT ELEVEN LOUNGE'S
"PENTHOUSE 88"

CHIPPENDALES SHOW! ... PRIVATE DANCES! ... BODY SHOTS! ...STRIPPERS!
...AND CHI CHI'S BOYS OF CHANNEL1RELEASING.COM!

PLUS!

THE WRAP PARTY FOR AWARD-WINNING GAY PORN STAR STEVE CRUZ'S
DIRECTORIAL DEBUT FOR MUSTANG STUDIOS!

NO COVER!
9:00 PM - Eleven Lounge
8811 Santa Monica Blvd., West Hollywood