Yes, apparently the dreadful rules of jetlag apply even to 23 year old Sydney Mardi Gras Gaylebrities, because the last two days were all but lost to recovery. Sure, leaving Sydney I was beat. Even still, I wasn’t fully aware of just how tired I was until I managed to flop myself into my very own bed. Held tightly in place by the massive arms of Papi, I shit you not – I slept 14 hours.

Let’s start from the beginning shall we?

The first day or two was low-key. When we arrived in Sydney it was sunrise.  Even in the morning light, the sun seemed to postulate respect and recognition for the sheer fact alone that we were below the equator; a place I had not yet been until arriving in Oz.  The time change had not yet sunk in and we were still a little fuzzy with the reminder that we had lost a complete day “in space” as they say. It was a 15 hour flight. However, many thank you’s to a glass of wine, an aptly prescribed little blue bill called Valium, and of course the complimentary personal television sets provided by V Australia the flight pretty easy to swallow. Except my butt hurt upon our arrival. You know. My cheeks.  You don’t realize just how damaging sitting on your backside for 15 hours straight can be to your ample ass tissue until you actually subject yourself to it.

Day Two was spent exploring The Rocks, which is adjacent & across the harbor from The Sydney Opera house and under The Harbour Bridge.  Very cute, quaint and historic I equated walking around The Rocks with something out of San Diego’s Gaslamp Quarter, or even Bourbon Street in New Orleans. I love history and a sense that there is more to us than just what we are today. You know, in the 1970’s the citizens of Sydney had to organize major rallies and protests to protect The Rocks from being further flattened by encroaching skyscrapers? The modern era towers above it as a looming reminder that nothing is sacred unless we stand up and say it is.

Like a true blue American, right about here is when I began drawing comparisons and similarities between Sydney & San Diego.  The truth is, they are very similar. Except Sydney is bigger. And the boys are sexier. And not as mean. And the cost of things are near double, yet the monetary conversion rate is about equal. And in many ways they are more accepting, except here in San Diego people don’t look at you funny when you walk down the street with your shirt off. What?! I was trying to even out my tan. I rushed acquiring skin color and the last thing I wanted was a FARMER’S TAN. Nothing against farmers, I just like tan shoulders!

The weather went to shit on us on day two and stayed overcast for 2 or 3 days. This was probably best considering my skin was as pale as it gets just a week prior for the Mardi Gras festivities here in San Diego.

Wednesday was my first commitment of the week. Fun and games were literally afoot at Mardi Bar (Nevermind is the name of the venue). The good people at Cool Kids Club, the booking agency that arranged for my appearances, SameSame.com.au arranged for pick up in a Bentley. As if I wasn’t already spoiled enough . . . someone really should have warned these guys. But too late, the damage is done. The second that car pulled up with it’s sexy driver the damage was irreparable. Bentleys and only Bentleys from here on out. You hear that?! Can I be honest? I was completely confused most of the time where all the hospitality was coming from. The first night when I was on stage thanking Sydney for having me out, I think I referred to the venue as Same Same. I wasn’t even intoxicated, I was just ill-informed and completely lost. And then the name of the damn club, Nevermind. Quite original, yet equally perplexing. If I had to guess why they called it Nevermind? Nevermind because I drank so much last night I can’t remember shit!

Here we are before I raucous game of Twister. I honestly don’t see anything wrong with an innocent game of Twister. So what if it’s on stage, in your underwear, in front of hundreds of people? What’s the use in doing anything sexy at all if no one’s watching? I’m just glad I didn’t have to get in my skivvies and shake my ass until sweat ran down my face. Is Twister more dignifying? Probably not. Am I still an adult star despite some minor, barely mentionable mainstream success? You bet. And until I see a clear and present reason to start acting like a prudish actor, I’m going to keep getting in my underwear and shaking my ass. Or entwining my body with other sexy bodies in front of hundreds of onlookers.

Take a look at the pictures on SameSame.com.au to see the highlights of the evening. The ones they posted put mine to shame, so I’ll post only a handful and hope that you follow the link and post what I know will be positive thoughts & observations on the evenings festivities. Take a look at Courtney Act! Isn’t she just impossibly beautiful? She was a main contender in a season of Australia Idol (you know, their version of American Idol). Not only is she stunning, but she was an absolute doll. A true friend that didn’t feel the need to resort to stereotypical bitter or caddy attitude just to harness a few laughs from the crowd. She was so entrancing!

Have I mentioned yet just how impossibly GORGEOUS the boys are in Oz? I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. And by that I mean I was salivating so much I couldn’t manage to keep it from running down my face. No, I mean my drool! Oh, and by the way here is a picture of the urinals at Nevermind:

So cheeky! Well done. I’m going to have to figure out how to get one of those installed in my 104 year old Victorian flat. I’m sure it would fit right in. Don’t you think? And yes, that is a giant BOOB painted on the wall in the picture below. You know, right above the cute guy in the picture below on the right. No, I can’t figure out why a tit like that belongs on the wall of a gay club on Oxford Street. But I like tits so no complaints from this gay porn star.

Jee, on the far left is Steve’s (next to him on the right) very vivacious wife. Asian women! Yes please! Steve is the owner of the highly esteemed establishment I speak of. He was telling me about this drink they developed in my honor using Absolut Vodka No Label. Until now, I’d never had a drink designed to commemorate any appearance! They also made one for Amanda Lepore (she appeared the second week of Mardi Gras at the Mardi Bar). Except, Mandy’s was much better tasting than mine. I was given a commemorative bottle and poster from the bartender of the Vodka Bar in back where I spent my “breaks” catching a breath from all the pictures I was taking with fans.

Below, after Twister with some of my new FRIENDS! Models, Bentley drivers, gay lifeguards. You know . . . the usual. I’m kidding. These guys are so much cooler than the people I usually . . . I’m not going to finish that sentence.

The second night night at Nevermind started out right with a picture with The Mad Hatter from the forthcoming Alice in Wonderland. Someone had painted over the billboard that advertised it on Oxford to read “GAY PRIDE”. Naturally, I failed to get a picture of it. I really need to start traveling with a photographer. So many missed moments. So many missed opportunities!

One more of the many pieces of eye candy from the trip. There, above I’m getting ready to go on stage as a pizza boy in a little skit that pokes fun at my bit in Another Gay Sequel. The video that is posted below and on (also featured at Unzipped) is only the last portion of it. All of the truly funny stuff, for whatever reason, is not included in the clip that someone is sharing on YouTube (JUST THE RAUNCHY?!). I know SameSame.com.au had it filmed, so when I it is posted I will point you in the right direction. Until then, grab a peek at the photos from that night here: Thursday Night at Mardi Bar.

And then I took a few pictures and signed a few buttcheeks. All in a day’s hard work. No?

By the third day, my assistant and I couldn’t wait any longer and we took the bus out to Bondi Beach. Thursday it rained but the sun cleared just in time for us to get a little color. Friday, we tried it again and it was perfect. Bondi, pronounced BOND-EYE by Aussies, is their main beach. Though an obvious tourist attraction, the whole north side of the beach seems to be very heavily frequented by, you guessed it, homosexuals.  GASP! It’s so gay, they’ve even managed to convert a handful of the Lifeguards. Seen below:

I guess they wear those silly little caps to keep the air out of their face when they are in the water. I had to have that explained to me.  The beach was everything you’d expect it to be! The water was clear and free of seaweed. I hate seaweed, I really do. So I enjoyed a great swim free of the constant threat of entanglement. It was pleasant. And though you can’t much tell in the coming few pictures, I did pick up a little more color on my skin.

I had the Queer Thinking event Friday. Beforehand I jumped on air with Joy FM for a real quickie. It was a nice warm up to the evening. At one point, I was mentioning something about rallying real community support for the coming, or latest generation of gay people, when there was a showstopping cheer coming from the back room. I had not realized that the bulk of the crowd had gathered out of sight to watch and hear my interview pre-conversation. Something I said seemed to set them off and it flustered and made me blush a little bit because, at the moment, it was unclear if I was making a good or bad impression.

It was nerve wracking attempting to pack everything of interest into one hour of open conversation once we hit the stage. A few times, after rambling on for a minutes, I felt the need to stop and ask Reg Domingo, my counterpart & the editor of SX Magazine (I was on the cover prior to my arrival in Sydney), if I had actually managed to answer the question initially posed. No, questions about the murder investigation and Harlow Cuadra were not covered at-length. In an hour’s time, there wasn’t much room for it. While this may be the one thing the world really cares to seek elaboration on from me; it does not define me. I would much rather talk about safe sex. I would much rather talk about what WE can do to lead by example (sorted pasts aside!) that will benefit the young people coming out each day in this world without guidance & support. This event alone was my one ticket to showing some of Sydney the real side of who I am and what I hope to aspire to become. Sure, much of what I do now appears to be nothing more than fun and games. Admittedly, it’s these “fun & games” that are paying my bills and getting me booked on appearances that are all the way across the world. So while I don’t knock it, I look longingly on toward the day that I feel like I have more to contribute than just a titillating Twister game in my undies. Say that five times fast if you dare!

After the In-Conversation we whisked ourselves off to the second half of the George Micheal concert. Close to 60,000 people were there and George Michael was on fire! Everyone was really feeling it. While I’m not particularly drawn to his music, I do recognize his contribution to our community and I admire him for it. This, too, was an unforgettable experience! I danced really hard later that Friday night back at Mardi Bar/Nevermind and watched Courtney Act debut her latest show. Courtney is as talented as she is beautiful!

Saturday was the parade. Ok, so I kept seeing these advertisements for this little local ice cream bar called Golden Gaytime. How could anyone honestly not be enticed by an ice cream delight named in such manner?! Intrigued, I could not pass up such an experience. Let me just say with all my being; I wholeheartedly approve. Crunchy, almost salty on the outside with a buttery inside – nothing could illicit a better moniker! As for the evening’s festivities? I would be lying if I wasn’t completely overwhelmed by everything going on. The Sydney Mardi Gras Parade is the biggest gay event – possibly biggest event in general – I’ve ever attended. It was all-consuming for me! We joined the judges in VIP with plenty of viewing space and elbow room. Thank You Josh for the hospitality!

An evening of party hopping, VIP entry and enough dancing, walking and then dancing again to walk off what I estimate to be almost 4 pounds (Weight I know I could not spare, for sure. I lost it over the course of the trip, not in one night!) and that was Mardi Gras for Brent Corrigan.

We always ended right back at Nevermind. Come on, the hottest boys on the strip, personalized treatment and my very own drink named after me? What’s not to love. Truthfully? It was those damn urinals. Kept us coming back every time. Well, that and Ryan. What a FACE! No?

I wish I could remember more from that night. Nevermind, I suppose.

Sunday was recovery and a little more sightseeing. Aside from meeting Ross Watson the artist, not much to say about Sunday. I’ll be writing more about Ross in the near future. This post is already far too long without the multitude of positive things I would like to say about his admirable abilities with a paint brush and canvas! The hope is that when I return for my book tour before the year is up; there will be time for me to sit for him. I’ve always said one of the greatest compliments one may be awarded is from an artist who seeks to incorporate you within his work. I was wary of meeting Ross after the late night Saturday and the parade because . . . well, you can see it in my face. It was a late night. And that is putting it lightly.

Sunday night, The Harbor Party. Despite a decent amount of sleep by this time I was all but expired. I put a good face on, topped it off with a ball cap and tried my hardest to enjoy myself. Sleep is just about all I need. That and a bucket of protein – and usually the occasional shot of Tequila. With this combination I could go for days. I apologize for the poor quality of the image below.

But the one thing missing by Sunday was REST. The key ingredient for a good time, really. And so, I turned in early. I was in bed by 12:30 AM. I knew getting up for the Spencer Tunick Installation at The Sydney Opera House (we were told to arrive at 4 AM on Monday morning) was not going to happen for me. Yet, I set my alarm anyway in an effort to remain positive. Ultimately, I chose a full night of rest over thousands of naked bodies (reportedly 5,200 of them!) strewn across the steps of an international landmark. For me, the phrase appears to be “All in the name of art – except when I’m deprived of sleep.” I’m a terrible adult star, aren’t I? To get a glimpse of what I missed, take a look at Beauty and the Bum. Well, anyway it probably looked something like this:

Was it all worth it? Absolutely. Except I might have paced myself better, because the one thing I was truly looking forward to doing outside of Sydney sight seeing and Australia itself was being of of Mr. Tunick’s . . . pieces. Subjects? One of the 5,200 anyway.  In the beginning, all I was trying to do was cram everything possible into this trip. As often as I say I will be back, there rarely is the time for it. Before my departure home to San Diego, my hosts were already in discussions with my manager about my return. Next time I will get to see more of Australia – the plan being to become less acquainted with the inside of a club and more acquainted with say, the Blue Mountains or The Gold Coast. By then the book will be out and I’ll be heavily touring for it. London is already part of the plan, and now so is Australia. Sydney was absolutely everything you’d expect it to be. Tourism is great, but more than anything I hope I managed to come away making at least a handful of lasting friendships.

Thanks Daniel, Shane, Tim, Wendy, Robbie, Ryan, Troy, Ollie, Zack, Steve, Reg, Josh and if I missed you it’s purely because I’ve already managed to bore my poor readers to death with the ridiculous length of this blog entry.