27 November 2006

Riot Heat

Uniforms do nothing for me. No doubt one can trace that back to childhood: ugly school uniform, and the other uniform in my village worn by the Boy Scouts (only youth group in the Republic of Ireland that segregates on the basis of religion; my objection at the time had more to do with silly badges and being told what to do)

Gay men around the world unite in their lust for law enforcement officers, but I swear that I’ve never seen anything to match the police in this city. Perhaps the French government fear gays are increasingly a force to be reckoned with, preparing to erupt in protest and overthrow the state (if demands for more flattering street lighting, hygiene checks on those using the Metro, minimum size restrictions for the darkrooms, and curfews restricting ugly or unfashionable men from entering the Marais, are not met) and have taken the precaution of exclusively employing men who are highly-desirable for their security services, sexually charged men who will only have to shake a stiff baton to make any gay roll over backward with heels in the air.

There are large protests every other week in Paris: it seems to be something that people here do on a regular basis, as the Spanish throw a festival, as it were. It’s worth going along to one, if only to be manhandled by the law enforcement officers; in addition to the Gendarmes mobiles, they bring out the CRS, specially-trained riot control teams, steel-toe booted, weapon-wielding fiends who all look as if they’d rather enjoy kicking you around a cell. Imagine my surprise on hearing that in slang they’re called ‘poulet’ which means ‘chicken’, which is a bit like comparing Mike Tyson with a chihuahua.

At a confrontational protest last week, members of the fire services marched in protest against changes to the retirement age. Imagine my distress, hearing about this after the event. Any video footage released will be available for download on all of the porn sites by the end of next week, I expect.

No doubt the streets were packed with gays to watch them, listening to aggrieved firemen assert their right to continue in service when they reach 60 (‘if he’s still got a body like that when he’s 60, he can save me!’) I’m sure the gays were right behind them, in every sense of the word, and ready to throw themselves against any police officers who tried to drag those firemen away, ready to bombard them with text messages if they tried… until of course the ‘poulet’ arrived; fickle as we are, we’d all have switched allegiance quicker than you could spunk all over one of them.

Apparently, fifteen men were taken to hospital by the end of the protest… strained necks and other minor injuries caused trying to get a better view, one imagines.

Can't wait for the DVD release; a porn version is called for... smouldering hot from the streets of Paris - hundreds of French police reveal their power hoses, threatening to do WHATEVER IT TAKES to bring those hunky firemen to their knees...

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