Wednesday, 31 October 2012

Ryan Idol: Still The Perfect Gentleman

A picture of a good-looking man, and this time not linked to a blog or subject referring to a middle-aged lunatic. Though there could be a tiny link--the last time we met it was on Eurostar, in the days before the name became synonymous with pullution. But enough of that...
Chi-Chi La Rue and I were born on the very same day, and that's how I got to meet Ryan--and Joey, who I guess would be described, along with Barbara and Amalia, as one of the great platonic loves of my life. Currently, Ryan--or Michael, as we all know him--is going through a tough patch. A very tough patch. Again, a woman of questionable sensibilities is involved. Indeed, morons have written that he and I have one thing in common, and I'm not talking appendage--morons, as an excuse for being the pieces of dung that they really are, claim that we don't like women. This is not true. It's just that all the lunatics and idiots who have caused us pain happen to be female. Moralists who almost always have something to hide themselves, and who camouflage their faults by latching on to hopeless causes and making life a misery for their betters--the premise being that anyone, be they porn-stars, criminals, murderers, thieves or fiends, will still always be better than these hideous matrons. But enough of that...
In Ryan's case, I would suspect that prejudice and homophobia have raised their ugly heads. Okay, so he got a little mad and hit his girlfriend over the head with a toilet seat. Big deal. Most toilet seats are made of plastic these days--not the heavy woodens one of yesteryear. And from what I gather she may have asked for it because she wasn't always nice to him--an alleged hubby-beater who probably got no beter than she deserved. She must have, because the case was in and out more times than Zsa Zsa Gabor's husbands. Then homophobia struck. Michael was gay, and therefore a monster. In fact, he was straight and gay-for-pay. There's a subtle difference.
Someone will murder a child--I'm talking USA, not the dippy never-ending-saga I was one involved with--and get a few years. Lord Longford wanted to get Myra out. And this judge now hands Michael a twelve-year sentence? Is he insane or what? There's an appeal. In fact, we've been appealing--yes, yours truly IS involved--for over a year now since a judge said Michael MIGHT get a couple of years, and will continue to do so until he gets out. But twelve years?
Here's a message to the judge who listens to the appeal. FORGET what Michael did for a living--his last job was in a Broadway play, in any case. Look at his FACE and try not to imagine what he is doing with his cock, and treat him like a HUMAN BEING instead of something dredged up from the sewers. Then, and only then, will YOU be regarded as a huan being. 

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