Back in the good old days before BLOGS were a glimmer on the horizon of publishing, Derek Washington and I published and distributed what was known as a 'ZINE. For those of you who don't remember such things, a 'zine was a mere 5-6 pieces of paper, Xeroxed and stapled together, then distributed, guerrilla style, on the streets. Our beat was West Hollywood, and the people we targeted were the stoopid faggots that crowded those oh so WHITE streets, grandly showing off Nautilus sculpted chests, and drinking Apple-tinis. How BUTCH!!! Anyway, I've written about it before, but yesterday I came across our first issue in a file, and had a wicked, nostalgic chortle. Here reporter Derek Washington recounts an encounter with famed Fag Porn Star, MATT GUNTHER. So let's rewind the clocks to 1997, shall we, a mere few months before the demise of Princess Diana!!!
SORDID TALES FROM THE SEXUAL UNDERGROUND
Sympathy is such a precious commodity. One must be careful where compassion is dispensed. For example, lately I have observed a certain Matt Gunther (you know, sneering, sexless porn star) waiting for the very same bus I take past Check Point Charlie: La Brea. I have often commented to friends on how brave and nonchalant he seems in view of his situation. You see, Matt Gunther is now confined to a wheelchair for reasons I do not know, nor shall I venture a guess. Buster has even bandied his name about as a possible interview. No mas. ON this day, as we pulled to a stop, I noticed Gunther (or whatever his name was in Iowa) and once again admired his seemingly pleasant persona and artfully highlighted hair. After clearing passengers from the handicapped seats, the bus driver (a middle-aged black woman) tried to engage the wheelchair apparatus. Being an MTA bus (if you ride 'em, you'll understand), the lift jammed and the rear door wouldn't open. The driver went outside to explain the situation to Gunther who EXPLODED: "You get you fat black nigger ass back here! Get me on this bus!" That, dear reader, is verbatim. Poor Matt. Imagine how a couple of years in trade school would have changed everything.
Cheers Derisha!
Some things never change.
Sympathy is such a precious commodity. One must be careful where compassion is dispensed. For example, lately I have observed a certain Matt Gunther (you know, sneering, sexless porn star) waiting for the very same bus I take past Check Point Charlie: La Brea. I have often commented to friends on how brave and nonchalant he seems in view of his situation. You see, Matt Gunther is now confined to a wheelchair for reasons I do not know, nor shall I venture a guess. Buster has even bandied his name about as a possible interview. No mas. ON this day, as we pulled to a stop, I noticed Gunther (or whatever his name was in Iowa) and once again admired his seemingly pleasant persona and artfully highlighted hair. After clearing passengers from the handicapped seats, the bus driver (a middle-aged black woman) tried to engage the wheelchair apparatus. Being an MTA bus (if you ride 'em, you'll understand), the lift jammed and the rear door wouldn't open. The driver went outside to explain the situation to Gunther who EXPLODED: "You get you fat black nigger ass back here! Get me on this bus!" That, dear reader, is verbatim. Poor Matt. Imagine how a couple of years in trade school would have changed everything.
Cheers Derisha!
Some things never change.
4 comments:
Dahhhhhling,
But what happened to him? The poor lamb. Who knew he was ill . . . the poor dear.
But daaaaaaahling!
He was the trashiest boy since those KNOLL Brothers!!! I could give you an example from a gents club I used to frequent. But that can wait. Until the next inspection!!!
I met him at play party in a San Francisco Victorian around 1996. He was slumped on a sofa in one of the dimly-lit rooms, wearing jeans and a leather vest and no shirt. I knelt in front and serviced him. When I came up the first time for air, I said, "You look like Matt Gunther." "I am Matt Gunther," he said definitively. After a bit he decided we should leave and go to my place. He claimed to be getting over an inner ear infection. He had trouble keeping balance. Took a cab to my place. Mr. Top Guy told me if I was good he might let me fuck him. I was good. And I did. Poor guy. Seemed to having a hard time with ear infection, or the beginnings of his neurological disorder or some bad chemicals. He died a few years after that.
Pete!
Thanks for the story. I must say that I saw him at a sex club in LA, and he was a mess....nekked as a jay bird, and doing all kinds of naughty things. It was really a shame to see him cruising around LA in a wheelchair, because he was still beautiful, and yes, he did have artfully highlighted hair. It wasn't long after that that he disappeared altogether. We only got the confirmation of his death from another guy who worked in The Industry. I hardly blame him for being bitter in the end. Beautiful, yes. But an invalid.
And we all knew why.
Craig
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