Guys Gone "wild" ((dirrty))

“Dude, Where’s My Pants?” is filled with some of the downright sexiest studs we’ve ever seen on Spring Break. From naked second story jumps into hotel pools, to pizza deliveries in the buff, guys don’t get any sexier than this.” No bra-burning way.

Oh my, ladies, could it be there is some fantastic place filled to the testestrone brim we haven’t heard of? With staked, baseball-capped “studs” full of cheap beer and wielding four inch weapons of sexy destruction deep in their swim trunks? Really all we need to witness this cock-rock show is a camera, our most encouraging baby talk, and a few of our sexiest girlfriends? This is just too great, slow down a minute there.

Toting names like ‘Hunt Hotel’ and ‘Guys Gone Wild: American Jock’, of course multi-dimensional ladies with any self-respect would take this gift to woman-kind graciously. Holding the claim we’ll never find guys sexier than those willing to masturbate for another baseball hat to add to the collection, how could we turn this down? No, first the male-dominated industry of sex gets it wrong with Elexa, the condom geared to every chick-flick lovin’, ice-cream-when-our-man-leaves-us munchin’ typical woman’s needs; (an overly sentimental product that holds our manicured hands as we cross into big, bad sex.) And now they want us to watch the only representation of our fantasies played out onscreen: the “American Jock” drunk off his ass. Funny, after all those cat-calls on the street I imagined he’d be a little bigger than what we’re finally offered.

No wait, I’m not being fair. You can’t judge a porn by its cover, right? You can witness thirty second clips of all the action off their website, maybe you should check that out first. “That’s huge... can you put it around your arm-- can you make it a watch?” entices the overtly over-sexed girl behind the camera. Three-inch drunk frat king giggles, proud of himself, and tries her suggestion. Reality hits him.

“No, I can’t do that.” The boy’s got a point.

“Yeahh, you did!” encourages an equally drunk girl from somewhere in the distance. And we endure another twenty-nine seconds of hopeless encouragement.

The young man on screen is a heavily tanned, rather stacked specimen; his face turns, to my personal amazement, even more tan under his backwards hat as he works with what he’s got. The clip goes on longer than it should’ve really, and with nothing better to do with myself, I focus my attention on the sole tattoo on his chest. All the “Guys” have some tattoo or other and several beach tags on each wrist.

One clip features another tattooed badass lying back, eyes closed to the buzzing room. When he finally ejaculates, the side conversations in the hotel room have already come to a climax of their own. A girl takes a break from her friends to pay attention to him. “Your body is really hot,” she tries. “Wow” (surprising herself) “it’s growing!” Now his penis has gained another quarter inch and the camera crew is pleased, as they adorn him with more compliments.

“Guys don’t get any sexier than this.” Says who? These American Jocks, “Bad to the Bone”, adorning hats and tats, is this as good as our libidos will ever get?

Apparently the average viewer agrees. Every male reviewer from amazon.com-- who, as it just so happens to be, is the only viewer, gave one tape just two and a half out of five stars. While Girls Gone Wild: the better known, and apparently critically acclaimed counterpart to the GW franchise, gained four stars on the same ratings system for the ‘Best of Blondes” tape.

So, who, then, is supposed to bite this buffed-out bait?

“Based on the reactions I’ve gotten, college-age girls, maybe older,” Bill Horn of Mantra Entertainment (creator of the GW empire) explains. “I think it’s going to be a big gag gift, bachelorette kind of gift.” Now I get it: women-friendly porn, geared towards the softer sex, is actually supposed to be quite funny. Is this what the female libido is, a joke?

Well, ha...ha.

If you want to watch some good female-gear porn: American jerks jumping out of buildings into pools naked, delivering your pizza naked, or just plain masturbating in front of an entire camera crew naked, ignore anything I just said. In your case, “Guys Gone Wild” could be just what you needed. What’s $19.99, anyway? In my opinion, you might as well save yourself the money; after all, how much masterminding did it take to pool together enough cash for a six-pack, and ditribute it to boys with six-packs? Ingenious. The product really does just sell itself.

_March 1, 2007 © 2007 Lucia Doyle