Sometimes, on a chilly morning or windy night, I really miss my beard.

The true Geranium, a perennial, which means it’s hardier than the annual “geraniums” you see everywhere, more refined, and less gaudy.

Gone are the days when the title of this post would be enough to get people to click on it. And these photos are probably not going to win him any new fans, or excite old ones.

Taken from his latest shoot for W Magazine in promotion for his upcoming part in the film version of Rock of Ages, they don’t quite convince me of his prowess as a rock-n-roll singer. He’s won me over in the past (I didn’t judge his Vampire Lestat until I saw Interview With The Vampire, and then was duly impressed), but this time he may have too much crazy baggage for me to suspend enough disbelief.

Besides, I can’t picture the man below having the sense of rhythm needed to portray a real musician, unless it’s meant to be really, really, painfully awkward.

Ceci n’est pas une pipe.

Can you stand the cuteness? I seriously can’t.

This is Andy “grilling” on Mother’s Day – please note the quotation marks used to indicate that “grilling” in this instance is a lofty term used sarcastically to describe the engulfing of a pine tree in a mile-high plume of smoke. He had originally wanted to grill closer to the house. We’ll leave it at that, and I’ll expect no questions when I advise grill-placement in the future.

This is the staircase on Stuart Street that I used to take every day to work on the way to John Hancock. It wasn’t necessary – I could have gone around the corner and avoided it (and often did), but every now and then – especially on a Monday morning – one needs a grand staircase moment. Descend it with your head held high, and be careful not to trip.