The great myth of ‘gay sex’ is that it occurs between two big alpha males. In reality, usually what happens is that weaker, submissive males offer themselves for, or are simply coerced into, sex with an alpha male, to use the wolf-pack analogy.
Wolf-packs contain both patriarchal and matriarchal hierarchies, which makes them even more interesting, but for now we’ll concentrate on the male, patriarchal side.
There is a phenomenon called ‘situational homosexuality’. In this, weaker males may sexually pair with stronger ones, if women are not present or available. One example of this is ‘prison sex’ which occurs in all-male prisons (we’re only discussing male homosexuality here. )
What is ‘sex tourism’? It’s a subject that generates a great deal of copy and little enlightenment. Is it just ‘mongering’, the practice of buying sex, but this time in foreign lands? And if it were, would there be anything wrong with that? Or is it any sex abroad? Is having sex when you’re on holiday ‘sex tourism’? What about if you live abroad and occasionally have dalliances with the locals? Sex tourism? What about, in the same country, if you marry a local? Still ‘sex tourism’?
What does ‘sex tourism’ actually mean? Is it really a thing, or is it just another nasty epithet that the lowest of the low, rabidfems, use to try to shame men into behaving by the rules that they and other feminazis set, without ever getting a say in defining those rules? Can women be ‘guilty’ of ‘sex tourism’, or is that just holiday fucking?
If you don’t know what the inside of one of those gateways to Heaven, otherwise known as a ladyboy bar, is really like, I hope this little video will help you visualise the legions of loveliness that populate them. I found the video a few years ago and decided to re-edit it to Billy Idol’s ‘Rebel Yell’. It’s an all-time favourite and frankly, is far more in tune with the passionate yelps of a toothsome young transgirl in bed than the music the video originally had!
You’ll need a ‘guest-friendly’ hotel, if you don’t use one of the ubiquitous short-time hotels which are, by definition, open to customers bringing along a girl or three. Although generally, budget hotels are fine, it’s probably better to avoid those run by farangs. I have to say, with regret, that the only time I’ve ever had any real issues with ladyboys in bars, restos or hotels in southeast Asia, it has been in establishments run by that species of bigoted Australian male who would, frankly, have been better left as a stain on his mother’s bedsheets.
I took most of these pictures at Ethie Woods near Arbroath in Angus Scotland in 2001. Some were taken in our home in Arbroath. The camera was a Russian ‘Horizont’. this was a panoramic camera that used a swinging 28mm lens on 35mm film. The images were interesting but not really sharp. This was partly because the 28mm lens was not that sharp anyway, but also because the film had to be held in a curve so that it registered with the focal plane of the rotating lens. This was somewhat beyond the Russian technology of the day and since the lens could not be stopped down to reduce the consequences of this, the images suffered.
I sold the camera after a short while, but looking back, the somewhat soft-focus effect was really attractive in its own right.
Here’s the first of our video diaries from the Philippines to be uploaded here. Future videos from all of my channels and playlists will be backed up here because I no longer trust YouTube! Crazy world we live in.
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Something that I have thought about a lot over the last seven years is this: why would a man not want to date a transwomen? I see, practically on a daily basis, the hot stares of men as they scope a ladyboy. Most of the t-girls here are slender, with little in the way of silicone, other than maybe a boob job. Men can’t stop themselves. You can see them sliding their eyes up those long brown legs — and legs are something ladyboys do magnificently, never mind those tight little backsides. They know their good features and they don’t hesitate to show them off — exactly as other women here do.
Most amusing, perhaps, is the Western male, the Anglo-Saxon particularly (Mediterranean types have a different take on life.) So often I have been sitting in a bar watching one of them, or sometimes sitting in the same company. I saw them fascinated, practically salivating, over a girl nearby, and then their reactions as one of their companions leans forward and murmurs something crass like ‘You’ll get more than you expect with that one, mate, she’s a bloke!’
Ladyboys are like hobbits; they have big feet. Although, and fortunately, not usually hairy.
My dearest and truest friend, my distant confidante and beloved adopted sister, Andie, is sitting on the brown vinyl sofa in my rented condo in Pasig. She has delicately hoisted the hem of her long floral skirt with one hand and with the other she is holding one of her slippers — flipflops in Filipino — against her leg.
‘Ugh,’ she says. ‘You see? My feet are longer than half the length of my shin.’
She drops the slipper and the hem and takes to regarding her feet with evident distaste, elbow on knee, chin cupped in her hand. She wiggles her toes.
‘I could possibly cut them off,’ she muses. ‘I should cut them off.’
The Portman and Tavistock, the UK’s main gender clinic, recently reported a more than 4500% increase in referrals over 8 years. FOUR THOUSAND, FIVE HUNDRED PER CENT in EIGHT years. The total referrals in the last year accounted for were some 2500, up from 97 eight years ago. Of these latest figures, 1800 were young females. Nearly 2000 were under 18, last year alone. That beats any stats on this, anywhere and to make it even more shocking, whereas the historic prevalence amongst females has always been less than 1/3 that for males, in the recent referrals this is reversed, with more than 2/3 being female. But what has this to do with Feminism?
In classic theory, gender transition is provoked by Gender Dysphoria (GD), a sense of more or less intense discomfort at being obliged to socially present as the gender one’s birth sex might suggest. It occurs in males and females and in two completely distinct forms in each: homosexual and non-homosexual. This might not always seem to be the most sympathetic way to triage the forms, especially in cultures which remain deeply uncomfortable with sex, such as the Anglo-Saxon ones, but it works.
Transtrender is a word that will become familiar to everyone in the West.
How things have changed; from a position, 15 years ago, when very few people knew what even transsexual meant and far less had actually thought about it, we have seen an explosion, first of ‘transgender’ and now, ‘transtrender’.
Suddenly we are faced, we are told, with thousands upon thousands of ‘trans’ people appearing all over society. While it is true that there is an uptick in genuine referrals to gender clinics, transtrenders rarely seek to actually transition; they seek instead the social status of a ‘trans’ label.
Because that is really all transtrender is: a label, a cultural fad, an Identity Politics membership card. It is no more real than Emo, New Romantics or Punk. But it might be a bellwether for much deeper social ills.
On the tenth anniversary of completing the first draft of The Warm Pink Jelly Express Train, I am republishing this article about it. It describes an affair between a Brazilian transsexual prostitute and a Western straight man.
Poaching is essentially a romanticised memoir; Warm Pink is nothing like that. It is far deeper and more introspective and writing it, along with the later Why Men Made God, was what shaped my current world view.
My ideas about gender in particular were formed by the research and writing of Warm Pink. Although it is a breathlessly-paced romantic adventure, it required me to dig deep into the natures of gender and sexuality, something I had never done before.