“Studlebrity” Pablo Hernandez Likes It When You Watch

One could argue that Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian started it all: the trend of good-looking people achieving fame and fortune for doing basically nothing and wearing even less. Before you knew it, the Internet was saturated with young women who were famous simply for being famous. The media quickly dubbed them “celebutantes” — but where were the hot guys? And what clever name should they be given?

Thankfully, writer-director-actor Charlie David (Mulligans, Dante’s Cove) has answered those questions (and others) in his new high-paced, glossy magazine-style documentary Studlebrity, which explores the off-camera lives of male Internet sensations who live for the camera.

Among them is model, actor and bacon lover Pablo Hernandez, who began his career voicing characters in foreign films before stepping away from the mic and in front of the camera. A national ad campaign for Reebok soon followed, as did a stint modeling in Europe. Eventually catching the eye of famed fashion designer Andrew Christian and the attention of thousands of fans on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook who clamor for every fascinating detail of his life (my personal favorite: a tweeted photo of Pablo sitting on an airplane with the panic-inducing message “Last selfie for the next 5 hours”), Hernandez’s handsome face and sculpted physique have helped pave the way to fame and fortune.

And love. A large section of the film details Pablo’s tumultuous on-again, off-again romance with fellow studlebrity Murray Swanby, which ultimately leads to the model using his mug to strike a brand new pose. (At one point in the film, the lovers even try to come up with their own celebrity couple nickname. Among those considered is “Murblo.”) But underneath the hearts and flowers and the self-marketing and endlessly posted pop shots is a smart guy who seems to have, as Casey Kasem used to say, his feet on the ground as he reaches for the stars.

Pablo was kind enough to take a break from his packed schedule to give us his thoughts on fame, feedback and family. [Editor’s note: Hernandez declined to discuss a video that allegedly depicts him in a sex act that’s appeared on an adult streaming site.]

Queerty: When did you first realize you were a studlebrity? Was it intentional or did it evolve?

Pablo Hernandez: I never aspired to be famous. I still don’t. I feel that fame is something only chance and luck can bring. I’m successful, and that’s what matters to me most. The rest is just an added bonus that I’m lucky to have.

The Studlebrity press kit calls the film a “layered look at [a] unique male mayhem.” Do you see it as mayhem? Or does your Internet fame seem natural to you?

My life is not mayhem. My success and celebrity are because of my hard work and professionalism, not because I’m a wild child.

Is there anything you won’t share? Is anything off-limits for you?

Yes, don’t touch my bacon.

How do you feel about the perception that underwear modeling always leads to porn?

It’s a perception that I cannot change. I have a lot of friends in the adult entertainment industry and they are beautiful human beings. I can say one thing: If I did do porn, you’d watch.

Did you go to college?

I did.

What did you study?

I have a degree in nursing.

Excellent. Describe your typical day.

I wake up between 6 and 9 a.m. every day and get ready to head to the gym. After that, I’ll probably head to a photo or video shoot. On off days, I like to spend time with my friends at the movies, going to dinner, or hiking Runyon Canyon.

What would you be doing if you were not doing this?

I do well at just about anything I put my mind to. When I first started modeling and acting in Miami, I was also about to start training for Miami-Dade Fire Rescue to become a firefighter. So, I guess I’d be a firefighter if I wasn’t doing this.

What does your family think of your fame?

At first, my family was a little thrown off by seeing me half naked in ads and commercials. Now they kind of poke fun at it — but they remain incredibly proud of my career.

What’s a common misconception about you?

That I’m just some dumb underwear model. They’re wrong. I’m also a trained actor.

How do you handle negative feedback?

I use to pay more attention to it, but I realize that everyone is entitled to their opinion of me and that letting it upset me is counterproductive to my happiness.

Are you making a good living?

I am. I’ve never been busier.

Are you investing your money?

I’m looking into several ways to invest in my career and build myself as a brand.

How do you feel about Studlebrity portraying the sweet side of your relationship with Murray, given that it’s now soured?

I will always love Murray very deeply. My love for him has not and will not change. We still believe that we will grow old together. There are obstacles that get in the way of our love for one another, but we realize that for the sake of the longevity of the relationship we have to overcome them.

Has the experience made you wary of future public declarations of love?

When a love is so strong, all aspects of that love are just as powerful. But I’ve learned to be a little less public with my love life. I’m an open book publicly. I try not to keep anything from my fans. However, I realize that many people are jealous of what they don’t have, and I feel that those who are envious of my love for Murray — and his for mine — couldn’t help but try to tarnish it.

Where do you see yourself in ten years?

I see myself being out and prouder than ever as an openly gay Latino who’s succeeding in the entertainment industry. I hope to start shifting my career towards TV and film acting.

And lastly, what accomplishment are you most proud of?

I’m proud of all my accomplishments, but my proudest accomplishment is the success of my career and how I’ve never allowed it to change who I am as a person.

Studlebrity, featuring YouTube romantics Mark & Ethan, models Murray Swanby and Pablo Hernandez, and bad boy Topher DiMaggio, is available to rent or own starting December 9 via LOGO, iTunes, Google Play, Amazon, Vimeo, TLA Video, and others. Watch the trailer below.

Jeremy Kinser

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Mary Landrieu: The Best Choice for Louisiana

When it comes to what’s best for the future of the people of Louisiana, there’s really no debate.
HRC.org

www.hrc.org/blog/entry/mary-landrieu-the-best-choice-for-louisiana?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss-feed

Meet Cassandro, Mexico’s Lucha Libre Drag Queen Superstar

“People know,” Mexican wrestler Cassandro tells The Guardian. “They know Cassandro, at least. They know Cassandro is not somebody to play around with. They know if they pay for a ticket, they’re gonna see Cassandro work his ass.”

At 5’5 and 44 years old, Cassandro, who is named after an infamous Tijuana brothel-keeper named Cassandra, has been professionally wrestling for the past 26 years and is somewhat of a celebrity in Mexico’s lucha libre culture.

He identifies as an “exotico,” which is a type of luchador that first appeared in Mexican wrestling in the 1940s. Luchadors are divided into two categories: “tecnicos” (good guys) and “rudos” (bad guys). Exoticos are effeminate men who fight in drag and are considered rudos.

“They were rudos because they were like the clowns in the circus,” Cassandro explains. “They were there to make people laugh. They weren’t really gay, unless they were in the closet.”

“We’re not transvestites,” he elaborates, “because I don’t do this out of the ring. I don’t do drag or anything like that. I don’t live as a woman. I’m gay, that’s it.”

In the wrestling ring, exoticos act as comic relief, but also as targets for abuse from the audience, who will yell slurs at them from the stands. This, Cassandro says, is all part of the game.

“Lucha libre in Mexico is like a religion,” Cassandro says, “and Mexico is a very machista country. Homophobia is everywhere.” 

He explains that wrestling matches serve as a way for the working poor to let off steam.

“It’s like a free therapy session for them,” he says. “They will go and scream their lungs out, and all the anger about what’s been done to them during the week, they get it out on the exoticos.”

If having antigay slurs hurled at him on a regular basis upsets him, it doesn’t show.

“Yeah, we are gay,” he says, “but we do know how to wrestle.”

Cassandro was actually born Saul Armendariz in El Paso, Texas, just across the border from Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. Growing up, he spent much of his time on the Mexican side of the river attending lucha libre matches. At 15, he dropped out of school to apprentice with a lucha libre trainer in Juarez. 26 years later, he’s still at it. Though the physical toll it’s taken on his body is noticeable. 

“I just bought my teeth for the third time,” he says. “I’ve had four surgeries. I just had the last one 12 weeks ago on my knee, to remove a plate with eight pins.”

Cassandro has also suffered torn ligaments in both knees, a shin fracture, and five dislocated shoulders. In addition to that, he’s struggled on and off with depression and addiction throughout his life, though he’s been sober since 2003.

“Wrestling has been the worst thing that ever happened to me,” he confesses, “because I had to discover first who I was not, and that I discovered in wrestling, through the drugs, the alcohol, the sex, the craziness back stage — just to be hard enough, just to prove to people that you deserve to be a wrestler.”

He blames much of his troubles on his his alter ego, Cassandro.

“That ego is not my amigo,” he says. “Because, you know, Cassandro is the one who is trying to kill me. And Saul is now the one who’s in charge and is trying to heal Cassandro: ‘You can be Cassandro, but leave that arrogance, that egotistic behavior, leave all that drama to the side.’ I have to find the balance between the two.”

But despite everything, Cassandro says he doesn’t plan on quitting anytime soon.

“If I would stop,” he says, “if I wouldn’t train, I would become a bitter motherfucker.”

Related stories:

A Close Look at Mexico City’s Naked Man Exhibition

10 Reasons To Be Happy Wrestling Is Back In The Olympics

Harassment, Abuse, And Extortion: The Everyday Struggles Of Gay Mexicans Revealed

Graham Gremore is a columnist and contributor for Queerty and Life of the Law. Follow him on Facebook and Twitter.

Graham Gremore

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AIDS: The Early Years
I can barely remember a time before AIDS.

I graduated high school in May 1981 at age 17. (I’ll do your math. I’m 51. You’re welcome.) The day after graduation, I moved to Indianapolis to escape both farm life and parents unable to handle an out son.

Compared to life on the farm, Indianapolis was THE BIG CITY! And when I got there, I was shocked not only to discover so many others like me — but they were all having a hella good time!

The summer of 1981. The last few months before the spectre began to rise. It’s hard to believe, when you see Indianapolis now. Maybe it was the residual effects of the “sexual revolution” or the “disco era.” Or maybe it was because I was a naive former farm boy. But gay men were seemingly everywhere. They had their own neighborhoods. Businesses! Neighborhood societies!

Being out wasn’t an “alternative lifestyle” in those days. It was punk. You were a walking, talking political statement. We were beginning to get some acceptance, but we were still the mysterious “Other” to most. Yes, sex was omnipresent. But it was about more in those post-Stonewall years. It was the realization that, with self-acceptance, came great freedom. Yes, some of us chose to celebrate at bars and bathhouses. And others of us opened art galleries, restaurants, started magazines. Became designers. And writers. Or actors. But marriage?

Why would we want to do something stupid like that? We were thrilled to be exempt from society’s rules.

To the rest of the world, we knew how to be just quiet enough. We were still underground in most places, so we learned an unspoken code, a way of “knowing” when we found ourselves with our own kind.

To the straight urban crowd, we were chic. An asset at any party or office. Disco may be dying, but we were really beginning to thrive.

July 1981: New York Times:

Doctors in New York and California have diagnosed among homosexual men 41 cases of a rare and often rapidly fatal form of cancer. Eight of the victims died less than 24 months after the diagnosis was made.

I still remember my very first thought, flip though it was. “Of course, gays can’t just get some run-of-the-mill cancer! Oh, no! We have to get some ‘rare, tropical disease!'”

The gay guys I knew dismissed it, if they gave it any thought at all. If they had heard about it at all. How many conversations began those next few months with “Have you heard about this … gay thing?” Almost all of the guys in my circles felt insulated from it — it was happening in New York and San Francisco. Nobody knew anyone with this mystery disease.

I was a late bloomer. I had only been with two guys, both of which had been boyfriends, by 18. So maybe starting late saved my life.

Condoms? Hadn’t entered the discussion. Safe sex? The term hadn’t yet been coined. This disease didn’t even have a name! Hell, the President of the United States refused to even address the crisis.

AYDS was still just an over-the-counter diet supplement. Can you imagine, when someone might have actually said, “I’m gonna run down to the corner to get pick me up some AYDS”?

Fall 1982. Joan Collins appears on the cover US Magazine. But above, a banner headline:

“Mysterious Cancer That’s Killing Gay Men.”

It was absurd! You can’t “catch” cancer! I began to wonder, maybe gay people are defective, maybe something in our DNA is unbalanced… and I wasn’t the only one with a crazy theory.

“It’s guys who use poppers! That’s what causes it!”

“You only have to worry if you swallow.”

“It’s the government! They’re testing a new biological weapon!”

And those were the gay guys! Forget about the folks who claimed it was a curse from God.

Yet, most guys in Indianapolis still thought they were safe.

By 1983, AIDS had a name. I had a new boyfriend. But in Indianapolis, safe sex still hadn’t seemed necessary.

In 1984, we moved to San Francisco. There was no living in denial at Ground Zero. The camp-out protest of AIDS fighters in Civic Center. The zombies struggling to walk down Castro Street. The posters about safe sex in the subway stations. The seemingly endless obituaries in the Bay Area Reporter. For the first time in my life, AIDS seemed real. It was inescapable. And it was scary to be in a city where 75 percent of the men were believed HIV-positive.

But, it was also reassuring — almost comforting — to be someplace where AIDS was on the front-page of the newspaper and opened the local news almost every single day.

My new boyfriend? He couldn’t take it. Six months later, he moved back home.

About a year later, he learned that being back in Indiana didn’t make him safe. Two years after that, he was gone.

What would life be like now, if AIDS had never happened? I can’t imagine. You bet I practice safe sex now. In fact, I’m wearing a condom as I write this!

On a personal note: Despite being openly gay, my parents never addressed it after I came out. At most, my mom called it my “attitude” or being “that way.” But I’m from Kokomo, Indiana — Ryan White’s hometown. And when my aunt began raising money to have Ryan thrown out of school, my mom was incensed. She and I talked about AIDS for the first time. And that let to talking about being gay. And that led, eventually, to the totally cool parents I have today.

AIDS is no longer a death sentence. And it’s hard to believe the advances I have seen in gay rights in my lifetime. We’re living in a gay new world.

Those hundreds of thousands of men and women did not die in vain. They were martyrs. Would we be talking gay marriage if AIDS hadn’t forced gay issues onto the nightly news? If gay men hadn’t fought for the right to be at their lovers’ sides? It humanized us in the eyes of many, and reminded ourselves of our mortality. That the party ends for everyone, eventually, no matter what.

But you know what? I do really miss those early days, when we were more than an “alternative lifestyle.”

www.huffingtonpost.com/leon-acord/aids-the-early-years_b_6256798.html?utm_hp_ref=gay-voices&ir=Gay+Voices

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