Not only is Ben Cohen beautiful and confident in the underwear department, he also has a tremendous heart, as evidenced by his StandUp Foundation. Check it out HERE, and pick up some of his underwear if you are so inclined.
Category Archives: Bulge
02
September
2012
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September
2012
02
September
2012
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September
2012
01
September
2012
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September
2012
Proud to Be a Bitcham
That is what some of the fans of Olympic diver Matthew Mitcham call themselves – bitchams – and I’m adding my name to the list.
Far more than Tom Daley, Mr. Mitcham really makes me miss the Olympics… and the Summer of the Speedo. He’s cuter, his accent is hotter, and he plays for my team. Team Bitcham all the way.
01
September
2012
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September
2012
Ben Cohen’s Enormous Hose
Ben Cohen in various states of underwear will be featured in the next day of posts, so stick around, or come back often.
20
August
2012
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August
2012
The Evolution of David Beckham’s Bulge
Despite our in-flux status, or perhaps because of it, this seems as good a time as any to examine the evolution of David Beckham and his briefs-encapsulated bulge. God knows we could use the hits… The featured image above is the first time many of us got a glimpse of Becks and his balls, and it remains iconic. Compare that to the one below, in which he appeared with his wife, Victoria (who will always be known as Posh in my book). As much as I love her, I’ve cropped much of her out.
A few years pass before his latest venture, his own line of underwear for H&M. As disappointing as their first offering was (fabric and fit was all wrong), I may have to give it another go, even with the unfortunate mustache that accompanies the new promo images. The Power of Beckham in Briefs. It’s very real.
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August
2012
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August
2012
Tom Daley’s Best Side: Butt or Bulge?
This may be the part of the Olympics that some people miss the most: the after-diving shower. It’s just a question of which part.
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August
2012
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August
2012
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August
2012
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August
2012
The Magic of Matthew Mitcham
Okay, I’m a bit biased, as he’s the first (and only) Olympian who was nice enough to follow me on Twitter, but Matthew Mitcham is my new favorite diver. (What’s the matter Tom Daley? Are you scared of me or something?) Even if Mr. Mitcham didn’t extend that courtesy, I’d have been enamored of him for being one of the only Olympians to live proudly and openly as a gay man.
It seems like such a small thing, and such an insignificant thing when you’re in the running to be the single best diver in the world, but to some of us it makes a world of difference. To some, this is everything – the peek into a future of possibility and hope – the seed of an idea that this might one day be you. If you’ve had to grow up without that, you have no idea what kind of power that holds.
10
August
2012
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August
2012
The Gay Olympian: Matthew Mitcham
This is Matthew Mitcham, an openly-gay Olympic diver from Australia (talk about a triple crown).
He’s probably the most prominent and well-known of the gay men at the games (at least, he’s the only one I’ve heard about, and these things usually manage to trickle down even to the must oblivious of us).
09
August
2012
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August
2012
An Olympic Erection
One of these things is not like the others…
The one that looks slightly more, well, excited, is Henrik Rummel – one of the US Olympic rowers. Just when you think it’s the pool guys that offer the most intriguing views, the rowers throw on some spandex and suddenly Mr Rummel’s a human sundial.
09
August
2012
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August
2012
More of that Gold Medalist: Epke Zonderland
Welcome to the Wonderland of Zonderland. This guy set the high bar, well, high – and deservedly won the gold medal for the Netherlands.
04
August
2012
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August
2012
Showering in His Speedo
Not sure what the point of showering in your Speedo is, but Michael Phelps knows way more about water sports than I ever will, so we’ll leave it at that.
03
August
2012
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August
2012
Zac Efron’s Wet Tighty Whities
From Mr. Efron’s next movie, something about a Paper Boy. Zac Efron in underwear AND Nicole Kidman? I may be sold…
31
July
2012
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July
2012
Tom Daley Busting Out of His Speedo
To all you guys who ever described yourselves as having a swimmer’s build, you can take it back now.
This is Britain’s Tom Daley, and this is how it’s done.
Now if you’ll excuse, I have some three-month-fasting to do, with a side of manorexia.
15
April
2012
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April
2012
From Beard to Pornstache
Last week, in a deliberate act of pre-meditation and long-thought-out determination, I shaved my beard. I had been itching to do so for weeks, but it just didn’t feel like the right time – or the right weather – until last Wednesday night. Even though I’m such an image shifter, it was more fun that I thought it would be (a quick dramatic change isn’t as easy to pull off as one might imagine, even with years of practice), and this was a joyously instant turnabout.
I left a mustache (pornstache) for a brief bit and took some fun Tom of Finland/Freddie Mercury shots that probably verged closer to the Village People, but you can decide for yourself if and when I make up my mind to shred that last bit of good judgment and post them here. (One is already up on FaceBook and Twitter, so if you’re not friends or following me respectively, what are you waiting for?)
On the beard removal – it was also a bit more emotional than I had foreseen. Being that this was the first proper beard I’d ever grown, and that I’d become rather attached and protective of it (a barrage of insults will do that), I realized that I’d been delaying the shearing process because I was genuinely afraid to let it go. There is definitely some truth to the notion of beards being used as barriers, as well as something behind which one can hide.
Growing a beard made me feel both older and more distinguished, and instantly took me out of the gay guy’s impossible quest to maintain twinkhood. Now, I realize I haven’t been a twink in twenty years, no matter how tight the jeans or flattering the light, but it’s a dream we all keep in the back of our heads, admitted or not. Having a beard immediately allowed (forced) me to give up that ghost, and what followed was an exhilarating feeling of freedom. The shackles of trying to be forever-young were heavier than I realized, so used to them had I become over thirty-six years.
When it came off, I didn’t really see or feel the change right away. Sometimes you only get that in the reactions of others (and my husband is one of the least reactive people I know). It wasn’t until I went into work the next day that I realized what a change had been effected.
I did not feel naked, as some men claim. (Please, you don’t know from naked. I do.) I felt a little cleaner and lighter, less cluttered and hidden, and it was a change I needed. The beard may be back next Fall, but for now it’s going to be smooth sailing.
(The one drawback was that two days later I realized I’d have to shave again. And again. And again. And that, frankly, is a pain in the neck and the jawline.)
