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DUNCAN HINES
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DANITY KANE ANNOUNCE REUNION AT VMAS, "WE'RE BACK," TEASE NEW SINGLE "RAGE"
While rumors were swirling last night about a possible N'SYNC reunion at the 2013 MTV VMAs, another group by the name of Danity Kane announced their official reunion.
The world saw members Aubrey O'Day, Dawn Richards, Audrea Fimbres, Shannon Bex and Wanita "D. Woods" Woodgette rise to fame on MTV's Making the Band. This past Saturday after much speculation, the girls announced that they would indeed be reuniting. Aubrey posted a promo on Instagram of the girls looking amazing.
The group walked the red carpet of Sunday night's VMAs at the Barclays Center in Brooklyn, N.Y., and announced, "We're baaack!" The ladies also announced the title of their forthcoming coming single "Rage."
One member who won't be joining the girls is D. Woods who released a statement to Us, ""Much love to the ladies of DK!! They have decided to reunite and I, like our amazing fans, will be cheering them on."
When asked why she wouldn't be returning it wasn't due to her harboring any ill feelings towards the other members, but more-so due to scheduling conflicts.
"For the past couple of years, myself and the other DK members have been working on other projects individually, such as music, film, television, theater and philanthropy and I have recently signed on to several projects that will have me committed for the next year. My latest single "Gold Mine" is now available everywhere!
If the opportunity presents itself, I would definitely be open to recording and/or performing with Danity Kane again," she continued. "I appreciate all the love and support of DK and myself. God bless!"This statement is vastly different than the one she originally gave to Hollyscoop. "It came to an end when it needed to. There was a lot of outstanding issues and obviously that was the only way it could be resolved. And I know that I did my very best in the situation. I added to the group in the way that I knew how to be a group member. I provided us with choreographers, with management, song writing, and everything that I could. But if your services are not being appreciated you gotta take it elsewhere."
The girl group broke up right before our eyes in early 2009, after months of turmoil beginning with Diddy kicking out D. Woods, and O'Day--also known as "Ebony and Ivory." Amidst the breakup were rumors of Richard being groomed for a solo career, for her later to be signed onto be a third of the now defunct Diddy Dirty Money, alongside Kalenna Harper.
D. Woods released two buzz singles "On My Side", "Legalize Me", and a mixtape Lady In The Streets, with none of them garnering enough attention to launch a successful solo career. Aubrey went on to pose for Playboy, became a contender on Donald Trump's NBC hit-show Celebrity Apprentice, and back in 2011 she scored her very own reality series on Oxygen, All About Aubrey. The show chronicled her life after Danity Kane, as she fought to snag her own record deal. It was rumored that she had signed with Universal records, but besides the occasional buzz-single, there was no official release.
As seen on All About Aubrey, Audrea had decided that she no longer wanted to pursue a music career, whether in a group or solo, despite her voice being the most powerful out of the original five members. And virtually nothing was heard of Shannon, as she was simply known as "the other blonde in the group".
Back in March of 2012 Aubrey went on the Big J Show, to discuss her career, and the possibility of a reunion. "I want to...I try every now and then when I have opportunities, to pass on to all of us and get everyone on board. Slowly, but surely getting better, but...it's going to take everyone wanting it, and fighting for it..."
That same month Aubrey took to Twitter to express her gratitude for having Dawn back in her life, putting an end to the feud. "Just got off phone w[ith] my DK sis @DawnRichard! [B]een since the split that we spoke & neither one of us have changed. [H]appy she's back [i]n my life!"
It will be interesting to see how this new Danity Kane project develops. With Dawn having just released two solo singles in support of her sophomore LP Blackheart, "Judith" and "Valkyrie," how will she manage both? Even more important, how will the public react to a female group when there aren't any making major moves on the Billboard Hot 100.
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BLACK, LGBT, AMERICAN: A SEARCH FOR SANCTUARIES, DARNELL L MOORE CHRONICLES THE TRIALS OF BEING GAY AND BLACK
On May 17, Mark Carson, a 32-year-old black gay man in New York City, was murdered in gay-friendly Greenwich Village by homophobes wielding a 38-caliber revolver. I did not know Carson, but I feel I have encountered him on countless occasions. I encounter him when I speak with the young, mostly black and brown people we serve at the Hetrick-Martin Institute where I work. I encounter him when I look in the mirror. My life, like his, like that of many of the kids I work with, has been shaped by the multiple identities that mark me. I am black, but rendered invisible within most mainstream LGBT movements. I am gay and have been ostracized by the homophobia of other black people. I am male and realize that my privileges are not granted to black lesbian and trans women. Like Carson, my personal experiences are often missing from narratives of gay progress.
Hundreds attended a march on May 20 in Carson's memory. While I was moved by the solidarity, I knew
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| Mark Carson shot to death by Elliot Morales in May |
Black in a Gay Space
There was nothing remarkable about the cramped bar and grill where I often partied on Thursday nights. It was decorated with the kind of faux-leather lounge couches and tiny cocktail tables that look better at night under the glare of tinted lights. It was an unspectacular space, except that on Thursday nights it teemed with a crowd of mostly black gay men downing cocktails, chatting, and flirting with each other over a hot mix of hip-hop beats in the heart of mostly white and queer-friendly Greenwich Village.
The red-lit lounge was, appropriately enough, named Desire. And, despite its short distance from the iconic Stonewall Bar, the weekly event there was one of the few spaces that attracted black gay men in a city with few social outlets that cater to black and brown queer and trans people. Desire attracted me, a 37-year-old black gay Brooklynite who often feels underrepresented in New York's gay bars. I was ecstatic to have another weekday party option.
But the last time I attended Desire's Thursday night mixer, in March, was the last time anyone attended it; that night it was shut down by a horde of New York City police officers. They were all white, an important detail in a bar full of black gay men. In such a place, a dozen white cops are bound to inspire an array of responses, including fear. Gay or straight, we're all too well-versed in how the justice system encounters us.
My stomach clenched at the sight of the NYPD storming through the entrance that night, but I have become jaded by my frequent encounters with the law. The memory of a black police officer in Camden, N.J., who many years ago mistook me for a "lookout boy" — the boy whose job it was to holler "Po-Po" as a signal to the neighborhood dealers that a cop car was approaching — still angers me. The officer grabbed me without warning, twisted my arms behind my back, pushed me into the back seat of his police cruiser, and sped off without reading me my Miranda rights. I was an honors student, more interested in the dealers than the deals.
Those of us gathered in Desire that Thursday night weren't doing anything wrong, but before long, the music stopped and conversations turned to whispers. We were commanded to leave while several cops patrolled the area outside. They had followed a black trans woman from another location — watched as they apprehended and arrested her a few feet from the bar. The melee was messy enough to bring more cops and an ambulance.
Asking a gay man to leave a party at the very moment it is getting good is inviting trouble. Privileged with a clean record, my friend and I weren't afraid to demand a reason for our expulsion. One of the officers shoved my friend by the arm in response, so we asked for badge numbers. A few of the cops quickly covered them up.
A precarious situation was in the making. We knew it and left, watching in disgust as the lounge finally cleared out. I felt anger and I felt shame, because I realized that once again, this black queer had been denied an opportunity to be present in the queerest space in all of New York City.
Gay in a Black Space
Whether they are the dark, asphalt-paved roadways of large urban landscapes like New York City or dirt-lined thoroughfares of unfamiliar towns, streets carry the traces of so many of our black queer encounters in a mostly white and straight America.
Seventeen-year-old Wauynee Wallace, a black gay teen who grew up in Camden, N.J., was shot dead in the summer of 2012 on the very streets where I had played as a youth. Tragically, Wallace was shot in the back of the head while walking with his friends one night. Whether or not he was killed because of his perceived sexuality and gender non-conforming expression, the case is an eerie and tragic reminder of the ways that queer and trans people are placed under surveillance, policed, attacked, and killed throughout the United States, even in this post-Matthew Shepard and James Byrd, Jr. Hate Crimes Prevention Act moment.
Yet Wallace, like 15-year-old black lesbian Sakia Gunn, who was stabbed in the heart by a black man in Newark in 2003, did not entirely match the profile of HCPA's namesakes, white gay Matthew Shepard or black straight James Byrd Jr., who was brutalized because of his race. Gunn, a young black girl, did not entirely match the image of any of the male victims. Indeed, Wallace, like Gunn — like me — existed within a crossing where sexual identities, gender expressions, and racial markers not only meet but are thoroughly entangled.
Wallace and Gunn existed in a complicated intersection of identities. And crossings can be precarious spaces to occupy for those who must dodge multiple arrows of racism, homophobia, sexism, and so much else daily. I know what it feels like to be multiply marked: I was brutally attacked on a street not too far from Wallace's home when I was 14. The Whitman Park section of Camden, or "Polacktown," as it is called, is a distressed area of an underprivileged 16-square-mile slice of urban America. The neighborhood is lined with small-porched row houses, vacant lots, and some trash-lined streets. And yes, the media calls it the "hood," but it was my home.
The close proximity of our living quarters made community-building easy. It is difficult to disengage those whose conversations you can overhear on connected porches or through walls of closely attached homes. Like Wallace, I was a peculiar black boy who preferred to hang out with the neighborhood girls. I was a good dancer and enjoyed the arts. My difference made for a series of intriguing conversations and rumors on my block. There were whispers. The news of my perceived queerness traveled quickly in a densely populated neighborhood where it is impossible to be invisible. And even though I desired to be undetectable and unmarked, I was often targeted by neighbors and strangers alike.
Several boys coming from the grocery store one day during my eighth grade year surrounded me. A few of the "hard" boys on my block were my classmates, and one happened to live next door. After some words were exchanged while walking down the street, I heard the word "faggot." Then, one of the boys, whose nickname was OB, uncovered a gallon of kerosene, taken from the small yellow moped given me by my uncle as a gift, which had been stolen several days prior. I was actually relieved when it disappeared, because I was too scared to take it for a ride.
Kerosene in hand in a tightly closed milk jug, OB uncoiled the plastic cap and emptied the gallon on my head. The liquid enveloped my body. I could barely see. My eyes were glazed and throbbing. I felt hands — many hands‚ — violently hammering my body. Then I heard a match. It flickered several times. The wind, however, seemed, instinctively, to put out each fire.
My aunt, returning home from work, saw the assault and quickly intervened. She is a woman with a small frame, but a lot of courage. She gathered my things and quickly walked me to West Jersey Hospital, about 10 minutes away from our home. She held my hand as I moved about embarrassedly, with kerosene in my eyes and on my skin. I cried uncontrollably when they covered my eyes with nozzles spewing water to cleanse them.
OB was determined to burn me alive that day. I still don't understand what would provoke him to set me afire. What made him so angry that he would want to dispose of me, his peer? I knew little about his family and personal life, but I knew enough. I knew that the immense poverty he and his siblings encountered and the violence that had become mundane in our neighborhood had begun to shape him in the same ways that they had started to shape me.
Maybe OB and I were more alike than I wanted to believe. For instance, I shed fewer and fewer tears every time I was told that another young person had been murdered in my neighborhood. The real tragedy of living with gun violence is often the way it deadens emotions. I can still feel the sensation that moved through my body when one of my friends stayed over at my house. He was a black teen, like me. But unlike me, he was a drug dealer and fighter. He lay opposite me on my grandparents' couch, where I would try to sleep every night. He smirked, moved his leg under the covers, and placed his foot on my crotch. I was aroused and he knew it. He smirked again. A few months later, he was dead, shot while walking. I can still see his grin and feel his touch. The memories haunt me. I cannot begin to imagine the memories of the many dead friends that troubled OB so much so that he was no longer able to see life in me.
We were all black boys living in the same black neighborhood, but it was clear that day that some of us were different. Some of us were gay. I was gay. And the streets in Camden remember my queer encounter in that black space in the same way that they now contain the ghostly imprint of Wallace's blood.
Lack of Space
Why the telling of these particular and personal stories in response to the larger question of what it might mean to be black and gay in an American moment of supposed progress? My narrative is just one of a number of stories of black LGBT life in America, after all.
On April 29, Jason Collins made history when he publicly disclosed that he was a black gay man, the first active male professional athlete in a major North American team sport to come out. Several days before Collins' announcement, Brittney Griner, the three-time All-American women's college basketball player and the Phoenix Mercury's first overall pick in the 2013 draft, disclosed that she was a lesbian. Griner is also black. Collins' and Griner' announcements occurred a year after black musician Frank Ocean's public release of a letter detailing his love for another man. Ocean, like comedian Wanda Sykes, who disclosed her sexual identity in 2008, received words of support from black celebrities like Beyoncé Jay-Z, and Russell Simmons. In 2011, Janet Mock, the former staff editor of People magazine's website, came out as transgender in an article published in Marie Claire.
In the wake of Ocean, Lewis, and Griner, many people are asking if the tides have changed for those who are black and queer in today's seemingly progressive America. But one must ask: Which type of black queer person figures as the central character in this narrative of progress? Whose narrative matters? And who is afforded safe space to exist as black and queer?
The structural forces that impede or advance our lives will always shape the many ways that one exists as black or gay — whether he (or she) is praised by the president, shot to death by a stranger, lauded by celebrities, or doused with a gallon of kerosene. There is no single way to be black and gay in America, but it is clear that there are too few spaces for most black gay men to exist safely. And if that is true, there are even fewer sanctuaries for black queer youth, lesbians, and trans people to exist in their entirety as well.
[ADVOCATE]
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WATCH: REALITIES OF THE BLACK GAY PORN INDUSTRY FEATURING COMEDIAN SAMPSON
Last Fall popular adult site Breed it Raw promised to serve up some explosive material for 2013, but so far those promises have yet to be fulfilled.
C.E.O. and director Que hired former Adult Entertainment Director D'Wess, to take over his duties, ensuring fans that they would see a drastic difference in the production. "This guy has some really good ideas and I am confident he will deliver the goods," he continued "...we had several meetings over the summer, did some test shoots and the boy is bad. With increased visuals and optimized audio enhancements to our production, not only will you get sexy models, but with clarity and audio that will make your viewing experience even sexier."
Que also began searching for new talent, and promised some surprises as far as who would be appearing in the forthcoming scenes. Breed it Raw like so many of these other urban sites, used to update on a consistent basis, usually every weekend. 2013 came around and instead of fans receiving quality on-time updates, all they've been treated to are monthly updates that have no real scheduled release date. It's more so whenever B.I.R. decides to publish the scene, that's when it goes live.
It's a shame how inconsistent some of these companies have become in regards to their releases. Papithugz seems to update on the same schedule as Breed it Raw, Dawgpoundusa who have stepped up their game--also update sporadically, leaving Flavaworks and NextDoorEbony the only urban companies who manage to update on a weekly basis. Lets not even mention Thugzilla who fell off years ago.
Apparently I'm not the only one who feels this way. Comedian Sampson posted a video via his YouTube channel, where he discusses the differences between mainstream "white" porn, and urban "black" porn:
Adult entertainment websites and outlets such as MyVidster and Xtube, and franchises like Coco Dorm and Breed It Raw, that cater to the black, gay community remain relevant to us, for the various sexual situations and scenarios that the actors portray and even for the fantasies that some of the models bring to life for the viewer. There are many reasons why porn remains so revered, whether one watches because they are horny and home alone, or enjoy the thrill of watching two, three, four or maybe even five men, get it on together, orgy style, this form of adult entertainment continues to have a sweeping affect on our community, young and old.
However, many different issues associated with the production content, raises questions, from noticeably odd body issues like missing nipples and wildy uneven scrotum sacks, to amateurish techniques, to models not using condoms has stirred controversy and alarm, especially now that some porn stars going public with STD and HIV statuses.
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MODEL SPOTLIGHT: JAMES HOLLOWAY BY PHOTOGRAPHER MARCUS MCCORMICK
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YES, HIS ASS IS REAL AND REALLY PHAT
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ARE YOU RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR FRIEND'S HIV
If I knew that some of my closest friends are shooting, snorting, or sleeping their way toward potential HIV infection (or worse, death), would my inaction make me indirectly responsible?
We have all seen the commercials that teach us to stop a drunk person from getting behind the wheel, but that same action should apply to other dangerous actions. We have an obligation to intervene when our friends engage in behaviors that are dangerous and potentially deadly. If we expect to stop new HIV infections or deaths caused by addiction to drugs such as crystal meth and heroin, then we must start having honest, clear conversations with one another.
Recently, Glee fans were shocked to hear of the sudden death of Cory Monteith, the actor who played the lovable character, Finn. Monteith, who made his own personal struggle with addiction public and entered rehab earlier this year, lost his battle with addiction after overdosing on a combination of heroin and alcohol. Late last year, we lost Spencer Cox, a renowned AIDS activist who struggled with addiction to crystal meth. Both of these lives and countless others serve as examples and highlight the need for friends to be patient, understanding, and willing to talk, instead of remaining silent or avoiding confrontation.
In my own life, what started simply as something I would do while out dancing with friends soon became an overpowering addiction that wrecked every aspect of my life, and led to me contracting HIV. I could have easily been another Monteith or Cox. My life while using meth consisted of trolling hookup sites looking for my next trick, all while looking for my next fix. There were never enough tricks and there was definitely never enough meth. Psychologically, I had devolved to a state of amphetamine-psychosis, a consequence of chronic amphetamine use. Symptoms mimic those of schizophrenia and include hallucinations, hearing voices, paranoia, mental confusion, loss of time, emotional flatness, loss of appetite, and sleeplessness just to name a few. Essentially, during the height of my addiction I would have loved for anyone to have told me how much I was hurting myself.
Luckily even without the help of friends and family I was able to address my addiction, although by that time I had lost my new truck, home, and employment. While it was not easy, I found support in other recovering addicts, since they understood exactly what I was going through. Since June 2011, I've traveled across the United States sharing my experiences both as a person living with HIV and as an addict in recovery, and one thing that has stood out to me is that people are still using crystal meth.
Still, I'm amazed to see the headlines for “Party N Play” or “PNP" — code for fellow tweakers — whenever I log onto any hook-up app or website. Bathhouses are filled with guys who are doped up on chemicals purchased from warehouse stores; the actions they engage in while under the influence create a breeding ground for HIV infection. My knowledge of what goes on in bathhouses comes with experience: I am most likely a card-carrying member of your bathhouse. I have no shame in disclosing the fact that I frequent bathhouses around the world, because regardless of your social standing we are all equalized when we are wandering those halls in a towel looking for our next trick. The reality is that the bathhouses are filled with your friends who slip in after a night of partying. You may never know about it because they probably think you'll judge them. And there's a good chance these friends are also not wearing condoms when they have sex.
We need to face it that there are two messages being told. The most prevalent and politically-correct message is that condoms need to be used each and every time that you have sex. The reality is that not everyone wants to use condoms and consequently we are not wearing them. One of reasons that no one freely admits that we are not using condoms is because we do not want to be shamed or shunned. While condoms offer protection against exposure to HIV they are just one of many tools that we have currently. If we are truly committed to reducing shame and having a conversation about reducing new HIV infections, we must end the stigma surrounding unprotected sex.
It is time for us to also have these tough conversations with each other regarding risk-reduction practices and prevention outside of simply putting a condom on. It is time to wake up and recognize that beating people, let alone addicts, over the head with the “condom” message isn’t cutting it. A better conversation to have with these friends who refuse to use condoms might be to ask whether they have heard of PrEP (Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis) or what other risk-reduction practices they can use.
It all boils down to talking to one another. Free of judgement. Free of shame. Are you responsible for your friend’s HIV infection? That is only something that you can answer. Ultimately each person is responsible for their own actions, but as friends and family, don’t we have a higher responsibility to intervene when a person is engaging in behavior that can lead to HIV infection and in some cases death? How many more people need to die before we start talking about the real issues at hand?
[HIVPLUS]
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BOOTYMAIL: SHAY LOVE
This is the first half of the series; the photos were just too good to give it to you all at once. You have to take your time with cakes like these, allow the shit to digest.
PS: I have a bodysuit just like that, except it's white, but I certainly don't fill it out like him. OMG!
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SMASHABLE?
I would eat that ass until my jaw locked up.
What do you think of the photo?
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BUBBLE ASS JUST EATING UP THE THONG
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HE'S RAISING THE BAR WITH HIS PHAT ASS
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SMASHABLE?
Open wide!
What do you think of the photo?
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THICK IN ALL THE RIGHT PLACES
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ASIAN TWINK WITH A PERFECT BUBBLE
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APPLE BOTTOM LOOKING RIGHT, I KNOW YOU WANT A BITE
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SMASHABLE?
Tight, muscular ass! Love the inner thigh muscles too.
What do you think of the photo?
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HIS TEAR DROP WILL HAVE YOUR DICK CRYING LOADS OF CUM
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SMASHABLE?
Mmmmm...glazed chocolate cakes.
What do you think of the photo?
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NEXTDOOREBONY: "SOLD BY THE POUND" FEATURING JAY BLACK AND DAMIAN BROOKS [VIDEO]
![NEXT DOOR EBONY "SOLD BY THE POUND" FEATURING JAY BLACK AND DAMIAN BROOKS [VIDEO]](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9ObUCilPD3s/Uh57FfXZVVI/AAAAAAABRJA/1KiDg-3lUvo/s1600/nextdoorebony_sold-by-the-pound-damian_brooks-jay_black-gay_black_porn-schoneseelen-8.jpg "NEXT DOOR EBONY \"SOLD BY THE POUND\" FEATURING JAY BLACK AND DAMIAN BROOKS [VIDEO]")
It's one of the hardest hitting tops Next Door Ebony has ever brought you. Jay Black is back and he's geared up to pound the sweet ass on Damian Brooks.
As Jay naps out on the sun deck, Damian creeps up, stoops down, and plants a smooch on Jay. Soon Damian has his lips wrapped around Jay's huge, swollen cock, sucking like the cum fiend he is. Jay likes the way Damian works a dick. They retreat to the bedroom to get even more physical. After some more nice, passionate sucking, Jay positions Damian for some rimming and tongue fucking. Just as Jay figured, Damian's hole is tight and just right for a hard, no-mercy pounding. Watch him take advantage of precious, willing Damian as he slams that enormous dong into Damian's hot pocket from behind, then from underneath a couple different ways. It's pure power and peak pleasure at this super hot pound party.
![NEXT DOOR EBONY "SOLD BY THE POUND" FEATURING JAY BLACK AND DAMIAN BROOKS [VIDEO]](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IzdLdlKONt4/Uh57EMUe0KI/AAAAAAABRIY/byeC9h5eVZk/s1600/nextdoorebony_sold-by-the-pound-damian_brooks-jay_black-gay_black_porn-schoneseelen-4.jpg "NEXT DOOR EBONY \"SOLD BY THE POUND\" FEATURING JAY BLACK AND DAMIAN BROOKS [VIDEO]")
Enjoy!
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MODEL SPOTLIGHT: SEAN ZEVRAN IN ANDREW CHRISTIAN BY PHOTOGRAPHER JORGE RIVAS
Randy Blue's Sean Zevran shows off his Andrew Christian donned body in a photo shoot by Jorge Rivas.
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