My, My, My

a decree is sent out: Be thee unafraid of another man’s dick.

by punkpink and Arvey Jones

“My, my, my”, said punkpink on the telephone to me the other day. “I just saw on one of your areas finest blogs a photo of those old fashioned urinals. You remember the times, the great times, the fun times we use to have around those things. Gee I know its not political correct now-a-days to talk about cruising the tea rooms of long ago, oh what seems to me to be long ago but of course not as long a go as some things that happened longer ago than that long ago. Some gay men and other folks would like that part of gay stories to be hidden away and die off with our generation but maybe I should just have a bit of fun and publish this piece. To heck with those who will say, Hey now wait a minute why must you perhaps give fuel to the radical right wing conservatives or those who are freaked out about a trans person using the same restroom as their beloved Buffy and Joey. But let me say right up front this has nothing what-so-ever to do with any Trans person. This has nothing to do with Trans people using the restroom. This has to do with gay history. This has to do with the days that we sought out love and sex where ever we could find it. The days back then and maybe the days now for many, if you are lucky enough to find the place where it is happening without the police interfearing. Seems to be one of their job qualifications, interfere  with folks enjoying themselves. Interfere with folks just walking down the street, getting in the way of life all with power, guns, violent temperaments and ambitious white power. Let’s say it right now, Fuck the Police! Want to read why us old white queers take this position. ( 1 )

Beyond this door one finds joy!


“Hey,” is this the place where all the dicks hang out?” he shouted as he drove his transportation chair into the men’s restroom. “If it is then make room for the biggest baddest dick this side of the river.” All the dicks were hanging out at all the urinals and someone was taking a long piss in water closet number 1. “Oh.” thought Johnny, “the biggest baddest one this side of the river shit I got to hang out awhile longer to see that.” Soon as he said Johnnie’s dick leaped just a bit and he  couldn’t take my eyes off the guy.” Never did a guy like that but I hope that I can do him.”

You know said punkpink, I remember those two quite clearly. I snuck into a stall as I heard one of them say, “Do you need any help?” Later I saw them over at Macy’s shopping together in the underwear department. “Oh,” come on punkpink, “You tell such stories.” “Sometimes,” replied punkpink, “I heard one of the guys say, “Baby its cold outside and you need some new underwear.”

YMCA

William Sloane House YMCA NYC.. Action City back in the day.

“Oh,” punkpink said, “both of us have such stories to tell here is one for you. ‘ Do you remember the guy named Quacky or something like that? I think his last name was Quackenberg. Well he told me when first landing in NYC back in 1964 he headed for the YMCA on 34th street got a room and headed for the showers. To wash the dust off from traveling from Kansas, washing away all that flatness all that corn and pigs or something like that. It was customary at the time for men who were headed to use the men’s shower and restroom to only wear a towel. Just big enough to go around ones waist and cover what needed to be covered while walking the halls. He headed for a stall to check out if there was any action or not as “love notes” sometimes were left on the stall walls. A silent partner was in the next stall. A foot moved closer, tap tap tap. Not knowing the secrete signals Quacky thought the guy was taping maybe to get out a big one so he though maybe just maybe if I tap along he will be able to do his business. Closer moved the foot until it came to rest on Quacky’s. “Oh I get it he wants to play footsies” But knowing in the rub, how the rub it rubbed, I knew it was something else the gentleman wanted. Why not thought Quacky, that’s what I am here for. Off they went to the older gentleman’s room where he proceeded to lay down face up on the bed. Shit said Quackey he just wants to lay there, like he’s half dead and have me do him. Not my idea of a good time. Maybe all that foot tapping and rubbing tired the old gent out. After about five mins. of laying there giving him a rub Quacky said, “Hey man if I wanted a corpse I would have gone to the grave yard. I’m heading to the showers for some action.” Not a very good start to experiencing the art of cruising. So some are duds and some aren’t and the best action that evening was found by Quacky in the shower.” All of us found action there. Every day we stayed at the YMCA.

men's locker room 1930

Paul Cadmus, YCCA Locker Room 1930

Here is a real campy song. I first heard it back in 1966 when I had cruised a guy in Bryant Park and we went home to his apartment on 22nd street. Yes it tells of what many of us experienced at the good old YMCA before many in both worlds sang along with the Village People. But you know back there in that apartment I met another gay man who was becoming as political as I was. It is where I first heard Shirley Verrett sing from the album Singing in the Storm. Songs such as Oh Freedom, No More Slavery Chains, Strange Fruit, and other songs of the era. Songs of protest, songs of hope, songs of that new day when all of us would be free. Some of the songs I had heard and sung back in my hometown with others who had the light of peace, justice, and freedom burning in them. But this was the first time that I had met a gay man who was listening as well as I was.  His name was Clyde was a member of the War Resisters League knew who was who in the organization and best of all who was like us. Early days mostly closeted homosexual men who found their interests in anti-war, civil rights and other social justice work. More than likely wondering when it was going to get better for us. Sure there was the Mattachine Society in NYC but in the beginning  of the “breaking out of heaven on earth,” it seemed to be rather boring, old fashioned and far to nice. Besides like Clyde said, it didn’t like us Beatnik types, you know those suit and tie Joes who hated us bearded, long hair pot smoking guys. Us pinkos, us commies. You know there has to be something else we thought. Something for our types. Something out of the ordinary. Something that will take all we have learned and say a big fuck you. Fuck I don’t want to be normal. I will never foget those words, those ideas, that were stirring in many of us at the time.

For this piece we shall listen to I’m So Wet! the Shower Song. Love it as its fun. This song Arvey we must dedicated to all of the good fucks we had at the old YMCA on 34th street, NYC.

Just a tad bit of ourstories.

****Men had been meeting men for sex, and this is on record, since the 15th century. (we won’t even consider what went on in the baths of 6th century Greece.) In 1492 in Florence a purge against the “vice of sodomy” took place in taverns, baths and sheds or houses used for sex. The city’s leading criminal court warned the owners of bath houses to keep out “suspects”. The taverns, baths, sheds and houses were raided. The court in Florence convicted 44 men for homosexual relations from April 1492 and February 1494. So the attacks by straights on homosexual men has been going on for many many years.

In England from the early 1950s there was a “witchhunt” of homosexuals with the Conservative home secretary David Maxwell Fyfe vowing to “rid England of this plague” and an estimated 1,000 gay men were arrested each year by undercover policemen prowling the parks, cruising grounds and public toilets.

Throughout history and for a variety of reasons, gay and bisexual men have looked to public bathrooms as places to get laid. Some men enjoy cruising public restrooms because they’re turned on by the exhibitionism and the possibility of getting caught, while others see it as a place to anonymously and discretely have a same-sex encounter in times when being outed as gay carries severe social, political and legal consequences.

Cruising public restrooms has become an ingrained part of gay history with mixed feelings surrounding it. On one hand, it’s considered so seedy, sexy and transgressive. On the other hand, it’s also considered by some gay men to be a dark side of gay sexuality and gay history that has been used to shame gay men for their otherwise harmless sexual proclivities (often in the name of protecting children, public decency or stopping the spread of disease). Most of the LGBT mainstream disassociates themselves with cruising in public and some  yes some have actually turned in men who were cruising and tattling to the police where the popular cruising spots are or were all in the name of advancement of their political agenda and the misinformed ideas that only the closeted men and men on the down low cruise restrooms.

We could write and write about the treatment of gay men who were out cruising and came face to face with entrapment in amerikkka and yes honey don’t think that it is over as it is still going on here today but others can do that job. Bet you ten bucks unless something changes it is going to get worse and bet you a hundred that the lovely LGBT mainstream will continue to look the other way.

Fuck with some of us we will fight back: 

Here is an amazing story about one man who after being arrested fought back and dear hearts a movement just grew and grew.

Dale Jennings, ever hear of him? Here is a bit of his stories: Dale Jennings was a early member of the Mattachine Los Angles. In the spring of 1952 Jennings was arrested for allegedly soliciting a police officer in a toilet in Westlake Park, now known as MacArthur Park. The trial that took place drew national attention to the Mattachine Society and membership increased drastically due to the decision of the Mattachine Society to help contest the charges brought against Jennings. Jennings called fellow Mattachine founder Harry Hay, and they enlisted the help of attorney George Sibley, a member of the Citizens’ Council to Outlaw Entrapment. Jennings was one of the first homosexual men to contest charges such as this one. Most homosexuals at the time pleaded guilty so as not to be publicly scrutinized. His decision to fight back was a pivotal point in the movement. The organization raised funds and promoted Jennings’ case nationally. The trial began June 23, 1952 and lasted ten days. Jennings confessed to being a homosexual but denied any wrongdoing. While there were different accounts of what exactly occurred that day, by the end of the trial the jury voted 11–1 for acquittal on the basis of police intimidation, harassment, and entrapment of homosexuals, and the case was dismissed. While only Dale Jennings and the police officer know the exact details of that day in the park, the trial brought a lot of attention to the Mattachine Society, increasing awareness of the Gay Rights Movement as a whole as well as increasing the organization’s membership. ( 2 )

Conversations:

The fear of seeing another dick freaks a lot of men out. I have heard many men say things like, “I would wait as long as it takes” just to avoid peeing next to another man. Come-the-fuck-on-bro, the dude is probably just trying to empty his bladder the same way you are. There’s no conversation or eye-meeting — unless you’re trying to get something out of it — so why should it be awkward? What did Mommy and Daddy do way back then when you were potty training to give a person such fears? Do you fear another man’s dick hanging out, emptying itself? What are your fears? Next guy may see what a small dick you have? You may get hard? You are hard? You want the next guy but your too afraid to let him know? Afraid that violence always lurks if you even dare to move outside of staring ahead for even a second.

Not the place for a man who is afraid of another man seeing his dick or being seen.

You remember Arvey dear, that is where we first met so many moons ago. It was in that local department store you remember it the one with no doors on the stalls. Poo Poo with the door wide open. Standing there with it all hanging out, summer time blue shorts pulled down around your balls, out there for me to see and fondle. Going home to that matress on the floor pad with a spring that kept popping through as we moved around doing what any horny young guys would do sweating up a storm, holding back never wanting it to be over and if it all went too fast playing around for some more to come once again and maybe again. Not wanting it to be over, me in town for 2 days, asking you to go with me back to NYC, telling me can’t do it but can visit at least once a month what the hell are you doing in this town anyway, seeing my sister for a few days and picking up some of my stuff left behind when I moved to the big city. Left Hartford a year ago, settled in doing art trying to find some sort of place you know that place we all look to sometimes far off in the distance, sometimes reachable, sometimes not driving ourselves crazy trying to get there where the grass is greener and life is easy street. Man I wish I could meet a rich man, love him hope he dies get all of his money and be free.

I always felt that meeting up with someone in a men’s room was great. I could just be a body, be there for some other body that I didn’t know, that was longing for the sort of comfort and love that only no one, nowhere could give. “I didn’t have to be somebody, so defined around the edges, so everyday, so sharing in everyway and all things considered.” I didn’t have to be so much like them. I was having the time of my life, making my own rules, or sometimes simply breaking them all. These encounters, these rooms provided a place for a lot of freedom and self-exploration most of all I didn’t have to explain myself to anyone. Just do it go about my merry way, stop off at the bar, maybe another pick up, free as a bird.

Thank Goodness I didn’t have to come home each night to my little man waiting for me, dinner all cooked, and everything wonderful as it can be.  Normal or so normal. We are indeed just like you Mommy and Daddy. No need to fear us. Now if only I could pop out a few grandchildren all would be well in normal land.

Can’t hide it very well with these types but then who the hell would want to. Don’t get to close in trying to hide it or you may fall in and piss on your shoes.


Those old fashion urinals, Hartford Ct.

from Those Where The Days. Hot Sex in the City.

Certain men cruised certain areas. The local department store men’s room was another hot place. Rather small with only 2 stalls and 1 urinal. The urinals were those real old fashion kind that went down to the floor. Wonderful for showing what needed to be shown, and rather quickly have a hot hand or mouth on a good stiff one. One time this older gentleman and myself were going at it and bang!!bang!!!bang!!!on the door and the door flew open. A security officer was there yelling that he saw what we were doing and we had better get out or he would have us arrested. He must have had a peep hole in the wall as there were no camera’s. He sure waited for awhile before he came after us. As we were about to finish and leave. Must have been getting off himself. HA! Wow we escaped that one as the gentleman and myself made it out the side door. Never went back. I didn’t really care for that department store men’s room at that time as the stalls had no doors and we all know it isn’t nice to *poo, poo* with the door wide open.

Hello Guys, Here is one for you.

How about some goofy Male Restroom Etiquette.  Death before Eye Contact!  Too bad we had to share the restroom with straight men. Let’s hope male frontal nudity becomes more prevlant in the coming year and we begin to be unafraid of others dicks.

 

Oh Art Oh!

One of the most influential work of art of the twentieth century was a urinal.

Sent under the pseudonym “R. Mutt” to an exhibition in New York on April 9, 1917 — and rejected because Mutt was not a member of the exhibiting society — this ‘submission’ would be misconstrued as demonstrating that art could be anything that an artist said it was, resulting in the colonization by “conceptual art” of galleries from Memphis, Egypt, to Memphis, Tennessee. There is controversy if Marcel Duchamp even did the fountain or was it that wonderful DADA Baroness Elsa von Freytag Loringhoven. ( 3 )

Not everyone is afraid to piss together. To make music oh such glorious music.

Fluxus Champion Contest, Nam June Paik, perform during Festum Fluxorum/Fluxus/Musik und. Antimusik/Das Instrumentale Theater, Staatliche Kunstakademie, Dusseldorf, February 2, 1963.

The piece:
Performers gather around a large bucket or tub on stage. All piss into the bucket. As each one pisses, he signs the National Anthem of his country. When any contestant stops pissing, he stops singing. The last performer left singing is the champion.

More art.

Many many moons ago when we were full of piss and vinegar there was an art show in an alley. Took a pee on a wall splashing all about and invited others to do the same. Of course looking back we see that this was a men piece. Well what can one expect when our collective was all men. Well here is a wonderful modern update.

So what is this? Here is what we found out: The thermochromic urinal is making quite a stir in the web news world. No one really knows who created and designed this innovative and bizarre waste disposal system. The wall in the picture clearly demonstrates how this unusual system works. The wall is heat sensitive i.e. it is built of materials that when peed on change color and allow the person to etch patterns. The wall, it seems utilizes the heat of the spray to change color, in this case the blue wall turns orange! (The guys in the photo’s are just pissers not artists.) Maybe if they were alone they would make some nice abstract painting and then the next guy could come along and add to it or delete it and the next and the next.

We must even if this art doesn’t include a urinal include Theo Brandqijk’s Eagle in this work. For all of those who know the fun in their ability to projectile pee, to hit the target, and then some. To make some art like piss holes in the snow, here today for a short time gone by the next.

Throughout the past 16 years the designer has been leaving his mark in very temporary street-art fashion by peeing on walls, continuously improving his technique.
As the collection of eagles have grown to 150 eagles on Instagram, Theo has also gained attention and praise from various media. In 2013 he was interviewed for the Dutch Vice. This is when the term “wildplaskunstenaar” was coined. His interest in urine, however, is not exclusive to the eagles. Theo is also working on designing a modern, separating toilet. He is looking to create a toilet that can extract the nitrates and phosphate from urine – substances that are hard to remove from wastewater. Theo has named the design “Piet” and May 2015 he’s going to Chicago for a month to improve and further develop the project.

Here is a You Tube Video of his work:

and now one of my all time favorite queer artists, Khristopher Khrist. This work is Mind Killer and was done in 2016. ( 4 )

Joey told us this story: “I was at the old Webster theater. You remember that place. It showed straight porno. Can’t for the life of me understand way as most of the men who were there to watch the film were there really to get a blow job, a good fuck or  have a nice play with another guy. I suppose it was keeping up appearances that no one was really queer but straight men who were bending that way at the time. So spotting in the audience a white hair bearded guy making eye contact and a nod of the head off we went to the men’s room. I went first and he followed right on my heels. We started to play around and out of his pants came the biggest dick that I had seen to date. Must have been 11 inches of nice hard fat meat. The kind that one could choke on and not be tickled one bit. The kind that I wanted up my ass as fast as he could put it and pump away baby pump away. He unzipped my pants and pulled them down and began playing around until his fingers came to my hole. I gave him a little moan that yes I wanted it, please give it to me. He told me that we should move over to the old women’s room, no women went to that theater those days so we could be alone and take our time. The men’s room was getting busy as generally when guys didn’t return to their seats right away other men in the audience knew something was up and wanted to come and join in the fun. Lot’s liked to watch others get off and some of the lucky ones got in on the action.

We went into the women’s room locked the door behind us, and played around. He was hot and a good ball licker and I thought that I was going to cum so stopped him. Then turning me around he took my hole in his mouth. Damn pink it was what one always dreamed of to be naked in a place where one could just let it all go. Shoving some poppers to me he slid his dick in and began to fuck me. How I wanted to take him home. How I wanted to take him everyday. Can we exchange numbers? Can we meet up more often. Let’s go to my apartment where we can get all naked and do some more exploring, more positions. Man I wish that sink was lower so I could sit up there and you could get me from the front. I knew I had seen this guy around before at some gay demonstration and he told me he had a on again and off again relationship with another guy but that he would be welcomed if he and I could get together again….as told to punkpink by Joey

A glory Hole from Australia. ( 5 )

A 1706 court report vividly details Edward Barker being prosecuted for poking his member through a hole in a cubicle wall. On one side of the wall was Thomas Vaughan a blackmailer and the other Edward Barker. Mr. Barker put his erect member through the hole in the partitions that separated the two toilets to the other man’s side where Vaughan caught it. Baughan then claimed that he ran out an tried to find other men to come and seize Mr. Barker but by the time “help” arrived Barker was gone. Later a suit was brought against Thomas Vaughan by Barker and others who he was blackmailing. Cottaging and cruising have links dating back to at least the 17th century, with the first recorded instance of entrapment being the 1698 case of Captain Edward Rigby, who was lured to a private room in a London tavern by a man on the payroll of the Society for the Reformation of Manners, a group which aimed to suppress what it saw as profanity and immorality by bringing private prosecutions.

How the religious right helped us.

During those days gone by the GLBT movement was under attack by a woman named Maryanne +Pissamafeeta+. (name changed to protect the guilty) She crusaded relentlessly against the movement day in and day out. She had published some of the most foul religious garbage called “Bayside Messages from Heaven” each and every Saturday in the Hartford Courant, page 2. These messages were from, she claimed, the virgin Mary. That virgin Mary sure was obsessed with homosexuals and abortion. Her little group called the Blue Berets were able to pass in East Hartford a restrictive ordinance in 1989 concerning adult bookstores. This ordinance removed all doors from the viewing booths, turned up the lights and installed a few cameras around. (nothing that peeps into the booths) Well the cruisers that went in for bookstore cruising sure were delighted, thanked her and her cronies and the city council of East Hartford for that. Now there is no question who is in the booth, what they have between their legs, what they look like, how clean they were and one can know very quickly if the person wants it or if they want to join in. Not too many of us are shy as we are all there for the same thing. The idea of others watching also produces a great deal of pleasure for many of us… from Those Where The Days. Hot Sex In The City.

LA Cares, 1984

I don’t know when we began to hear about GRID or Gay Related Immune Deficiency Syndrome, the first case was reported in 1981 and it was renamed in 1982 as Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS). I remember that some thought that it was not here but in NYC and else where. But many guys traveled back and forth to the city and I am sure most didn’t stop there sex life once in the big apple. And many of us didn’t stop our sex lives here in Hartford either. I still wonder today how some of us came out okay and others didn’t. I believe it began to dawn on us when friends and people we knew in the movement began to get sick and then die. When more of the information got out into the peoples hands a weird type of silence fell over the cruising world. By 1982 the Task Force formed the Gay and Lesbian Health Collective and by 1984 AIDS Project Hartford was founded. More and more people who had been there weren’t any more. They just didn’t come around like they use to. Some did don’t get me wrong. There is a wonderful poster from the early days of a mother and her son, the son is holding an umbrella and the Mother is saying, “Don’t forget your rubbers.” For those who don’t know condoms were called rubbers back then. A lot of the sex that I had during this period was amongst close friends and long term couples. Friends that we knew we had a better chance of surviving with. We stilled cruised some. No harm in looking, in jerking off with each other while wearing our rubbers against the rain…From Those Where The Days, Hot Sex In The City.

Notes:

Notes:

( 1 ) Here are some essays on this blogs view on the police. HERE. HERE. HERE. HERE. HERE.

( 2 ) While Jennings was one of the founders of the Mattachine Society, his views on how to best fight for equal rights for homosexuals differed from the organization as a whole. Harry Hay, the primary founder of the society, believed that “gays were a unique and especially talented group who had been a primary part of tribal societies and needed to come together and reclaim those sacred and traditional roles”. Jennings believed that there essentially was no difference between a gay man and a straight man. Jennings adopted a more private role, believing that homosexuals as a group had very little in common, and wanted to fight for the right to be left alone while Hay and the rest of the Mattachine Society collectively wanted to make homosexuality visible to the public and fought for more homosexual awareness.
In the organization Jennings was not alone in this alternate perspective, and in 1952 a small group of members from the Mattachine Society met to discuss separating from Mattachine and forming a separate organization that would illustrate their own personal views more. In 1953, they separated from the organization and created ONE, Inc..

( 3 ) Barroness Elsa von Freytag Loringhoven: The most scandalous theory that surrounds the Baroness is that she is an uncredited collaborator with Duchamp on his famous Fountain (1917), a urinal signed “R. Mutt” that was first exhibited at the 1917 Society of Independent Artists’ Salon in New York. Irene Gammel puts forth a convincing argument of the Baroness’s influence on Duchamp’s artwork in her outstanding 2002 biography Baroness Elsa. Duchamp must have conspired with others to be able to contribute Fountain to the salon anonymously, and the Baroness was close friends with him, though he had refused her advances.
A 1917 letter from Marcel to his sister, the painter Suzanne Duchamp, reads: “One of my female friends under a masculine pseudonym Richard Mutt sent in a porcelain urinal as a sculpture. It was not at all indecent—no reason for refusing it. The committee has decided to refuse to show this thing.” An account from Alfred Stieglitz corroborates that it was a woman who was responsible for bringing a large porcelain urinal on a pedestal to the salon. Stieglitz may have been referring to Duchamp’s female alter ego Rrose Sélavy; even so, she was likely modeled after the Baroness.

We have to ask again, Is this just another case of the art world being stacked against women artists?

( 4 ) For more on Khristopher Khrist art work see HERE. 

( 5 ) A Glory Hole Acquired By An Australian Museum found HERE.

“Cruisers need to be more aware than the average citizen of legal rights and obligations because, frankly, the police don’t play fair and the odds are not in your favor,“..Keith Griffith

In Cruising for Sex, Legal Q & A About Public Sex Keith Griffith has this to say:

“Sometimes knowledge can mean avoiding big trouble including arrest, jail time, fines, lawyer fees and even having yourself placed on a sex offender list. Cruisers need to be more aware than the average citizen of legal rights and obligations because, frankly, the police don’t play fair and the odds are not in your favor if you get caught in a sting operation. Trying to help with questions, we put together a series of questions and presented them some years ago to a series of lawyers across the United States to determine some basic knowledge you should have. Be aware: legal advice in one state does NOT apply to every other state and even state laws are subject to different interpretations.

Much of what we learn in these answers is not good news, though it is essential to know it. Basically, the ‘system’ works against you if you get caught with your pants down. However, knowing your rights can save you from having an awkward situation escalate into a life-changing one. I especially appreciated this from ACLU counsel Mary Bauer of Virginia when I asked her how we can go about changing laws against men who cruise: “I believe in the power of people to change both the law and the political climate. In fact, I think it is the only way to make a difference. Frankly, I think that in many places, people would be shocked by what the police do in the name of the people. Making these things public and bringing political pressure to change policy is the single greatest tool people have to change the oppression of gay men and lesbians, in my opinion.”

To read the full article go to HERE.

 

Why This Piece, Why at this time?

This piece is written for my Queer Anarchists Comrades, for guys who aren’t afraid of hard dicks in public places, for history and art buffs, for the curious and for those who aren’t shy while standing at a urinal. It is a work of some fiction, some non-fiction gleamed from many sources and from the memory banks of punkpink and Arvey Jones as told to E. O. Furbird for furbirdsqueerly. This piece is written in full support of full and total male frontal nudity and for the day when men are not afraid of other men, all men, no matter what.

Who is Who

punkpink gave up full time cruising years ago. Prefers now to live in a little gay commune in the wilds of Vermont. Where punkpink tends to goats, chickens, ducks, and a rabbit named old uncle Harry. punkpink is a full time herbalist, healer and shaman, a weaver of cloth and baskets. A large garden tended by naked gay men in the summer provides food for the commune. Though punkpink will admit that when traveling he always no matter what stops off in any and many men’s rooms along the way just to see what he can see.

Avery Jones is a retired artist. Jones is interested in LGBT stories of all kinds but mostly outside of the mainstream. Jones has no interest in being like Mommy and Daddy even if the last name of Jones is as common as a butt hole. Jones believes that changing ones name to fit ones work is as easy as changing ones socks to match an outfit and does it frequently. Jones is mostly interested in Anarchist thinking and considers Emma Goldman to be a shero along with Huey P. Newton, Harry Hay and Audre Lorde.

E. O. Furbird: is one of the founders of furbirdsqueerly along with his lesbian sister Emma. E. O. Furbird used to write for punkpink is a Bandits Tip, Queers Without Borders blog, Queer Artist and other publications. E. O. Furbird constantly battles the urge to close down furbirdsqueerly and do something else but never can do it.

*******

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