Category Archives: General

2017: The Year in Review – Part 1

If we are go by the social media monstrosities of Twitter and FaceBook, and the wretched state of political affairs in this country, 2017 was a dark and grim year, best left in the dust in the hope of a better 2018. Throughout the madness, I’ve striven to keep this small section of the internet a peaceful respite of beauty and tranquility, fun and frivolity, with the occasional dose of serious intent thrown in for good measure. I’m not sure I’ve succeeded, but let’s look back anyway. It’s the only way to move ahead. Besides, some of my favorite people appear here, and that’s always soul-enriching. 

January 2017 ~ 

 

Madonna, Inside Out

Feud.

Eat my banana.

Hawkish.

Tyson Beckford’s naked ass.

 

Pain in the neck.

Mobster music.

Man in Motion

The Delusional Grandeur Tour returned for its final few months (that old thing?), picking up right where it left off: Flower Bomb Balm Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Hunks for January included Ray Edwards Jr., Joss Mooney, Daniel Lukakis, Dan Bevan, Daniel Newman, John Legend, Douglas Booth, Ashley McKenzie, Romain Barras, Henry Licett, Lewis Tan, Jeffery Self, Barclay Beales, Tony MilanPaolo Amores, Dylan Sprayberry, Ryan Stack, Bob Harper, and Andy Mientus.

February 2017 ~

Ahh February. The less said about you, the better.

It cuts like a knife, and I’ve got the blood to prove it. 

A happy homo-anniversary

The brilliance that is Betty Buckley.

Super Bowl jocks & jockstraps on parade

That Zac Efron Freedom Speedo.

My family jewels almost all on display

Proof that I don’t love every single Madonna song in the world

The amazing artwork of Paul Richmond.

Color my ass excited.

Andy Cohen is Super.

Valentine Dance.

Music for the broken-hearted.

Andy as a very cute kid. (And an even-cuter baby.)

An Ilagan family dinner for Mom’s birthday

The ultimate narcissist

Love is pain and pain is art! Show me your graffiti heart!

The Flower Bomb Balm continued: Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

Hosting Sunday brunch, with help from the Pennsylvania Dutch!

Nick Jonas baring some skin, but not as much as Joe Jonas.

Bang it like Harvey.

One of my favorite reads of the year

My brother turned 40.

Red bark, not once but twice

Hunks of February included Brian Justin Crum, Garrett Swann, Danny Cipriani, Michael Xavier, Matt Lister, Dev Patel, James Gao, Paul Richmond, Arad Winwin, Andy Cohen, Will Helm, and Amini Fonua

March 2017 ~ 

In like a lion

Ass Wednesday.

Simon Dunn gets tan and naked – then does it all over again

Still the best Madonna album ever. (And still looking good.)

I’m not afraid to look ridiculous for this blog

The forgiving frittata and a delicious lentil soup.

Rainbow bright.

Back to the boulevard after two decades. (And a reunion with an old crush.)

Boys at play.

Harry Judd, fit and fine

Snow blows.

I wanted to be Wonder Woman

#KimptonLove in NYC.

Smell my rhubarb.

Dancing beneath the moon.

A very naked Ashley Parker Angel

It’s only fair to objectify my naked ass in return

Zac Efron’s Speedo just kept giving

Hunks of March included Alan Valdez, Jordan Woods, Casey Conway, Sean William Donovan, Patrick Boyd, Jonathan Soroff, James LongmanSam Asghari, Luke Evans, Kevin SessumsAsger SkovgaardPreston Truman Boyd, Will Taylor and Connor Franta.

More of the 2017 Rear… err, Year in Review to come…

 

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A Winter Gasp

The 2017 Year in Review begins tonight, so this is one of my last original posts for this calendar year. I call it a gasp because these photos were taken in the harsh light of early day, before I even had a chance to shower or fix my hair. I was heading out to shovel the driveway (another gasp, thank you) but I paused to enjoy the winter wonderland that had arrived just in the St. Nick of time. I’m wearing a vintage parka that I picked up at a huge (70%) discount at Sault in Boston a few years ago. It’s warm and functional, but not as pretty as I’d like. Good fashion is suspended until the return of warmer weather. From here on out it’s Timberlands and hair-wrecking hoods. That’s ok. I need to let my hair down more, to not care about being perfect all the time, to wear my sweats and sneakers to the store. (Gasp again, I own both.) The older I get, the less I care about what others think. And let’s be perfectly honest: I never cared all that much in the first place. A dangerous recipe for any time, but especially troublesome at the end of the year.

PS – Only one small bit of my hair is white because there’s snow in it. The rest I earned in the last few years. I own that. Next up: one last Hunk, and then the recap of all recaps.

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All Tuckered Out

This doll has seen better days, but then again we all have.

It’s seen worse ones too, so this Christmas she is just relaxing and throwing her hands up now that it’s all over until next year.

I know how she feels.

Still, she’s not about to recap an entire year in a trio of posts, so she really has nothing to feel that exasperated about.

Try it on me.

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The World In An Ornament

“I felt overstuffed and dull and disappointed, the way I always do the day after Christmas, as if whatever it was the pine boughs and the candles and the silver and gilt-ribboned presents and the birch-log fires and the Christmas turkey and the carols at the piano promised never came to pass.” ― Sylvia Plath

Inside this globe of glass the air is perfectly still.

Outside, all the light and images of the surrounding room are captured and distorted and thrown back in a confusing confluence of incongruous scenes.

In this week between Christmas and New Year’s, the happy confusion reigns. With the weeks and weeks of build-up and preparation, that it could all be done in a single day seems regrettable. And so we carry it out one more week – and perhaps another after that. Andy is big on ‘Little Christmas’ which I think arrives on January 6, so everything remains up until then. (Truth be told we’ve had a couple of Christmas trees that almost lasted until Valentine’s Day, much to my chagrin.)

For now, the lights are a nice way of dealing with the darkness of winter, even if we’ve turned the corner and the days have begun to grow longer again.

“He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree.” ― Roy L. Smith

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When A Hunk Turns into an Asshole

Lewis Hamilton had been a Hunk of the Day here based on his success as car racer. That ended when he called out his young nephew for wearing a dress. This is the first time I’m doing this, and normally I wouldn’t be so petty and nonsensical for such a silly feature, but I’m disgusted by what this guy did. At his Christmas gathering he said this to his nephew, who was wearing a pink dress (as kids regardless of sexuality sometimes do): “I’m so sad right now. Look at my nephew. Why are you wearing a princess dress? Is this what you got for Christmas? Why did you ask for a princess dress for Christmas?” He then screams, “Boys don’t wear princess dresses!!” while this little boy (thankfully) seems to laugh it off. It was posted on Hamilton’s Instagram feed. The boy seemed to laugh, but don’t think for one moment that it didn’t sting. And don’t think I won’t call any asshole out who does that to a child. Hey, Lewis Hamilton, real men don’t degrade little boys like that. Fuck off.

PS – Guys in fur shouldn’t talk about boys in dresses. 

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A Merry Recap

While the rest of you may have the rest of the week off, I go back to work tomorrow, and I must say I’m not dreading it. I love Christmas as much as the next guy, but by the time it all goes down I’m ready to move on. Like so much else, it’s all about the build-up and anticipation. The actual event, and when that sweet Baby Jesus starts bawling, is a bit of a let-down. Let’s go back to before, when it was all possibility and yet-to-be…

I took a bit of a social media sabbatical to focus on the holidays at hand, and that’s always a stress-reliever. 

We turned the calendar page to winter, and everything’s as if we never said goodbye

The 3rd Annual Boston Children’s Hour took place, and instead of an hour it lasted an entire weekend. (And in the end it was freaking awesome.)

It felt like Christmas all over again

William Goodge, Ricky Whittle, Brandon Myers, and Dan Edgar comprised the holiday hunks of the week, while Pietro Boselli and Tom Daley provided the holiday guy candy. 

In a very short time I’ll begin working on the Year in Review, which will be up in a few days. In the meantime, for those of you lucky enough to be home and bored this week, check out the last few years of mayhem and magic:

The Year That Was 2016: Part One, Part Two, Part ThreePart Four

The Year That Was 2015: Part One, Part TwoPart Three

The Year That Was 2014: Part One, Part Two, Part Three

The Year That Was 2013: Part One, Part Two, Part Three

The Year That Was 2012: Part One, Part Two

 

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When Winter Has Come

We turn the seasonal page to winter, because the sooner we start it the sooner it will end. With all of our cold weather of the past few weeks we should have had time to prepare, but it’s still a sad, bleak dirge until the promise of spring. During such time, I find it best to focus on beauty. Stillness. Peace. Winter carries its own enchantment and charm, it’s just less flashy, more somber. Its color palette is limited, but that also means it’s a little calmer. It demands a more refined viewing, where an appreciation of slight nuances and delicately-shaded textures reveals layers of previously-unrealized prettiness.

There are days of blue sky too, often in the aftermath of a snowstorm, when the sun reflects off all the snow and the world is brighter than any summer day. These are the unexpected delights of the season. Little jewels among the wreckage. Let’s see what else we might find…

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Solstice of Winter

On this, the first day of winter, the shortest day of the year, the Winter Solstice, I give you a flock of birds, tossed in the blue sky and set free to fly. Let it be a happy harbinger of the sleepy season. Let it bring good luck and warmth and cozy memories to see us through the longest and darkest nights. Most of all, let it be beautiful and calming, and please God let it be quick. 

Winter can be a wonderful time. It gets a bad rap. I’ve talked some serious shit about it in the past. May this year bring about a sincere truce. The world needs a little more healing right now. 

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Break It Off

I’ve taken mini social media breaks before, and one big happy blogging break last summer, and I find myself contemplating similar motions of late. It’s just too upsetting and bothersome sometimes, and at such times it’s good to be reminded that this is all a choice. I’ve long maintained that social media is what you make of it. It doesn’t so much create you as reflect an abstract notion of who you are. If you keep it light and not too serious, it can be a fun and enjoyable way to pass time. 

Yet I find myself being drawn into the toxic tweets and Facebook fights and it’s bleeding into my real life because when you are subjected to so much of it how can it not? That’s when I knew it was time to pull back. 

With all the Net Neutrality nonsense swirling around, the idea that we may have to pay for Facebook or Twitter or Instagram may be a silver-lined cloud. I don’t intend to pay for any of that nonsense, and if suddenly we had to it would be the ultimate sign to let it all go. I’m cool with that, despite what my outsize social media presence might convey. 

Those who know me and know me well realize it’s the truth. My real life happens offline, every moment, every day, and it’s so much richer and more fascinating and exciting than anything I could type or try to describe in photos or blog posts or a mother-fucking tweet. 

The point here is that if suddenly I decide to disappear on any of those social media platforms or this blog itself, fear not. I’ll still be living and creating and loving – and if you’re part of my world you’ll know how to reach me. 

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Post Children’s Hour Recap

Having spent the weekend in Boston for the Children’s Holiday Hour, I’m still recovering and recuperating, so this recap will have to do the work until I’m upright again. 

The week began with the bodacious Ben Cohen in his underwear

A new anthem. 

A shirtless and wet Henry Cavill

Snow party.

Holiday punch with pizzazz.

The Ilagan brothers go tree-shopping. 

Sky geese.

Luke Evans in, and out, of his underwear. 

Christmas recap within a recap. 

Hunks of the Day included Jordie CaskeyKeo MotsepeMikael Daez, Tristan Cole, and Austin Wallis

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Geese in the Sky

The wavy ‘V’-shaped formation undulated slightly in the sky as the sun began its descent for the day, then broke up completely in the high winds. The geese will find their way back into their iconic traveling pattern, in whatever mystical method it happens. This is the sky just before winter arrives. 

Draining itself of light and color, it will soon grow gray and bleak, mottled with clouds high and low, streaky cirrus or cottony cumulus, and then we will wait it out until spring returns. 

The geese, far wiser than us silly humans, will spend their winter in warmer climes. The older I get, the better that sounds. 

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The Snow Came Early

It’s our fault.

Really, it is.

Any time Andy and I plan a party there is some sort of weather event, so our holiday gathering this year resulted in that pesky snowfall of last Saturday that saw so many accidents. Usually we just bring the rain and wind for our summer parties, but it seems we can conjure the snow as well.

It did make for a more festive scene, however, and one can’t stay mad at such beauty. It fell into the night, and on the following morning the world was lit up in the magical way that only snow can create…

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A Very Harry Recap

A little extra hair will be especially helpful in what looks to be a rather frigid week of weather ahead. There are Christmas memories to keep us warm, and I’m making new ones every day as I step away from documenting it ad nauseam here. Let’s meet back here on Thursday – until then, a recap.

And a recap within a recap, with this look back at previous Holiday Strolls

Of course, there was this year’s four part stroll: Holiday Stroll 2017 Part One, Part Two, Part Three, and Part Four

The ghost of Holiday Cards past.

This year’s Holiday Card.

My Top Nine, my ass

Hairy Harry Judd

A rather limited number of Hunks of the Day included James McAvoy and Ed Speleers.

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Top Nine, My Ass

Do not be mislead by this year’s relatively tame Holiday Card. If you want to find my edge, and more obviously my coin-slot, look no further than my Instagram account, where my ‘Top Nine’ collection is a clear indication that gratuitous nudity is still the quickest way to Instagram adoration

As amusing and ass-centric as these nine photos may seem, they’re really not an accurate representation of what I post there. You are much more likely to see a cocktail shot than a cock pic, or a plate of food over a slice of ass. There’s something for the booty and the mind, at the same time. 

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Holiday Stroll 2017 – Part 1

It was cold and gray when I entered Boston, save for a sliver of blue in the sky beyond the old Hancock building. The clouds were just rolling in, and a chill was settling into my bones. The thermostat in the condo was blank, save for a small ‘Low Batt’ message that I didn’t even notice before heading to the grocery store. In order to set this Holiday Stroll apart from the others (and to make up for a missed birthday in the fall) I was going to make Kira a roasted chicken dinner.

This is only the second or third chicken I’ve roasted in my life, and quite frankly none has ever been a smashing success, but I’m all for breaking through such a psychological impasse, so I picked up a five-pound bird, a bottle of wine, and all the necessary accoutrements then set about cooking dinner with some advice from ‘The Women’ running through my head: “If you stick a roast in the oven, what’s to stop it from getting done?”

The most difficult part for me remains cleaning that bird off and pulling out the insides. Reaching into an animal’s rib cage cavity will always freak me out, but I charged through it, patted the thing dry, stuffed it with lemons and garlic and thyme, then trussed the legs, rubbed it down with butter and sprinkled it liberally with fennel salt.

On a bed of fingerling potatoes, sweet potatoes, fennel, onion, carrots and more thyme, the chicken nestled into its rack. I shut it up in the oven for an hour and half and prayed that the smoke alarm wouldn’t go off. There was other work to be done, in the form of a private cocktail hour for one, and some last minute Christmas decorating to fully furnish the condo with holiday cheer.

I don’t know if it was the candles that mingled with the aroma from the kitchen, the ledge of holiday greenery that I assembled in the bathroom ledge against a background of brick, or the cool cocktail making its way into my belly, but suddenly the cool gray start to the weekend was melting into something warm and fuzzy. Kira would arrive in a little. As much as I eagerly awaiting her arrival, I took a moment to enjoy the solitude, and the coziness of what was to come. Those quiet jewels of time would be the sparkle that shot through the darkest nights when memory was all that remained.

Kira arrived after the chicken had had ample time to rest. I filled her wine glass and the Holiday Stroll weekend had officially begun. We toasted the event, then set about to carving the chicken, which neither of us had a clue how to do. It was a mighty mangled affair, but with some judicious cuts I managed to give us each the majority of a breast, and the darker meat we somehow pulled apart until satiated. The vegetables, soaking up all the fallen butter and chicken renderings, were the decadent stars of the meal. All in all, it was a success, and I’ll be more confident in roasting chickens for the future.

It was already late. Time moves swiftly when good friends are in company. Rather than head out for a night-cap, we stayed in the cozy comfort of the condo, which for the most part was warm from the oven and the candles. The bedroom was still cooler than it should have been, and it was then that I took closer notice of the whole ‘Low Battery’ thing. We would get a trio of triple A stock the next morning; for now a heavy winter blanket and a late-night viewing of ‘The Man Who Came To Dinner’ would suffice to keep us toasty.

A jazz-inflected piano version of ‘The Christmas Waltz’ lulled us to sleep. A full day of strolling was on the agenda. The holidays had arrived.

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