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In other news...
It's IML in Chicago this week, which I was completely clueless about. My queries for my queer brethren asking what the hell "IML" is, were met with a sort of "if you have to ask, you'll never know" attitude. Finally, I learned that the rather sterile sounding "IML" is an anagram for International Mister Leather, which is basically a giant fetish beauty pagent.
Imagine Living Dolls with a lot more grunting, and a cowhide smell in the air...
Anyway, this curious competition brings all sorts of queer riff-raff to this town, including good ol' Erik Rhodes, who I wrote about recently. I saw the sad porn star mess while I was out at a bar last night, and proceeded to flap at my friends to direct their attention to the massive orange skinned dude in the corner.
"It's Erik Rhodes!"
My cry was met by a gaggle of confused faces.
You know, this dude.
"He's the porn star dude who was fucking Marc Jacobs- I've skinned off to him like a million times?" -a statement that confirmed that I probably spend too much much time checking gossip sites and watching porn.
My friends still had no clue who he was. "I only watch amateur", chirped a cronie. "Yeah x tube is heaven", piped another. And then they all proceeded to babble about grainy home porn, while my eyes remained stuck on Rhodes. I had to say something to him- I mean he has helped me through some rough times, his blog is a fascinating trainwreck, and he totally schtupped Marc Jacobs, how could I not pick this dude's brain for a second...as much as you can pick somebody's brain when you've had a few too many manhattans and you're in a loud crowded gay bar.
But just like that, Rhodes vanished- rushed away by a gaggle of twinks!
I returned to my group, who were still chatting it up about the glories of self-produced porn, and commenced my evening. But my chances for a mini-interview with Rhodes were not spoiled! While walking around later in the evening, I spotted him at a corner table being swarmed by a bunch of twinks who were probably looking to share diseases with him after the bar closed. I grabbed my friend by the hand, looked him in the eye with a curious manhattan fueled fire and said, "We're having a conversation with Erik Rhodes!"
With said friend in tow, I charged over to Rhodes' table breaking through the wall of gelled hair pretty boys to the man-mess himself, and offered my hand.
"You're an inspiration."
"I'm Dennis and this is my friend Nick."
"I'm Dean." (or dan or something...I forgot which name he used, but he used a fake name or a real name...who knows with porn stars)
Dude was actually quite nice, very genial, down to earth- it was sort of like talking to the benevolent high school QB, who happens to like it up the butt.
We asked him what brought him to Chicago, and he said he was here for IML, which he's been coming to for a while, "I got nominated six times, and I still haven't won anything!" To which my friend quipped "You're like the Susan Lucci of leather." He just looked at us with a vacant smile, "who's that?" So Nick and I, who were pretty surprised that he knew nothing of the spurned soap star, told him all about Susan Lucci.
Then he told me, "You remind me of my friend Cazwell!"
I'm not sure if being linked to a bratty gay rapper is for me, but whatever...
This spiraled into me mentioning that I love Amanda Lepore, who's in Cazwell's music videos and he told some Amanda stories, which somehow made me want to talk about Leigh Bowery, but for some reason I couldn't remember his name. After trying to remember his name I gave up...and henceforth gave up on Erik Rhodes. What else was left to discuss? His stellar performances? I didn't dare ask him about the Marc Jacobs stuff, for fear that he'd deck me... What does one chat about with a porn star?
He smiled and said "I'm really drunk."
"Me too" I chimed, and scurried away.
Thank you, David, thank you...