Category Archives: General

Cher and Hillary Clinton held a fundraiser in Provincetown, MA last weekend, which means about a million gay angels got their wings. I can’t imagine what that must have been like, but its proximity to Carnival is simply an act of God. See, He’s with her too.

On the occasion of turning forty-one years old, I pause for a moment in the usual parade of revelry and fun for a moment of serious contemplation and consideration.

Just fucking kidding.

I’m forty fucking one!

If there’s a reason for a fuck-festooned post, it’s any birthday after fucking forty.

There’s a certain freedom after that number. Not that last year’s supposed milestone upset me in any real way. I’ve just never been bothered by age – mine or anyone else’s. If anything, I’ve wanted to be older all my life. Granted, there are moments when I wish we were going in reverse. My body doesn’t bounce back as quickly or easily as it once did. I need sleep and rest and can’t imagine staying out much beyond midnight. I need to exercise and watch my dietary intake if I want to dwell between a 31 and 32 inch waist (I may just bite the 32 bullet and call it a day – but there are some pretty 31s that I’m not quite ready to part with.) I’ve also had to re-structure and re-focus on things that matter the most to me.

For the most part, I remain one of the luckiest fucks in the world, living a charmed and enchanted life with some of the greatest family and friends for which a guy could ever ask.

There’s always a sense of sadness when the Summer Olympics come to a close. More than just the end of an entertaining series of games, it’s also a sign portending the end of summer itself, something that most of us would rather not confront. Oh well, theres no way to go back, except in this recap of the previous week of Olympic glory…

The week began with a rather lackluster Madonna Timeline. ‘Best Night’ was anything but…

Luckily, the Olympics held sway over most of the week’s proceedings, with spotlights on gymnast Eleftherios Petrounias, diver Kristian Ipsen, water polo player Marc Minguell, and diver Philippe Gagné.

This powerful woman may have been my favorite person at this year’s Olympic Games. Oksana Chusovitina gives new meaning to the term ‘champion’ and she showed the world what true Olympic spirit was.

Madonna came back strong and rallied for her birthday.

The garden came back as well, getting its second wind for the last part of the season.

A pair of decathletes: Ashton Eaton and Kevin Mayer.

A tutorial on how to get Tom Daley’s ass.

It’s not easy being green.

Strike a pose.

Albany knows how to pose too.

The Hunk of the Day was also dominated by Olympic hotties, including Bruno Fratus, Soren Thompson, Shawn Barber, Danell Leyva, Epke Zonderland, and Michael Hixon.

Finally, the trio of posts that encapsulated all that was the Rio Summer Olympics 2016: Part One, Part Two, and Part Three.

I’m going to miss these Summer Olympics. They absolutely rescued this season for me, coming as they did in the midst of a dark summer, and they turned everything around to bring back some badly-needed entertainment. It’s one of the few times I didn’t need to feel guilty about watching hour after hour of television. (Aside from those Real Housewives’ marathons of course.)

The end of the games will be a rather unwelcome splash-in-the-face back-to-reality moment, just in time for the coming of fall. I’ll never be an optimist, so I might as well admit that summer will come to its close sooner rather than later, and no use in pretending otherwise. Ignorance has rarely been bliss. For now, there’s another day of the games, and a month of summer left to go.

Who else wants tomorrow?

“Romance and poetry, like ivy, lichens, and wall-flowers, need Ruin to make them grow.” – Nathaniel Hawthorne

Despite a spattering of recent storms, summer holds on.

In a re-blooming butterfly weed.

In a hot and humid night.

In a hanging fern from which flows a fountain of foliage, still spilling upward and outward.

And in a silly toga, perfectly breathable and cleverly vented, tied just loosely enough to allow for a quick change into skinny-dipping attire.

“Thus coarsely does the world translate all finer griefs that meet its eye! It is more a coarse world than an unkind one.” ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne, ‘The Marble Faun’

“The whole statue – unlike anything else that ever was wrought in that severe material of marble – conveys the idea of an amiable and sensual creature, easy, mirthful, apt for jollity, yet not incapable of being touched by pathos. It is impossible to gaze long at this stone image without conceiving a kindly sentiment towards it, as if its substance were warm to the touch, and imbued with actual life. It comes very close to some of our pleasantest sympathies.” ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne, ‘The Marble Faun’

“And, after all, the idea may have been no dream, but rather a poet’s reminiscence of a period when man’s affinity with Nature was more strict, and his fellowship with every living thing more intimate and dear.” ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne, ‘The Marble Faun’

This tiny little tree frog has been visiting our den doors, clinging to the glass and peering in as we peer out, for the past few nights. He is a very pretty shade of green, one that isn’t quite done justice by this feeble photograph. It also doesn’t convey the minute size of this itty-bitty creature, which is roughly the size of a quarter, no more. When viewed up close, it becomes a most magnificent animal, with its tiny little hands and questioning eyes.

The world can fit in the palm of your hand, if you let it.

A gymnast from the Summer Olympics 2016 host country Brazil, this is Diego Hypolito, who recently tumbled for us, and did his country proud with an impressive floor routine. I love when the host country rises to the occasion, and Mr. Hypolito made that dream come true.

The day and the month add up to the year, and this post adds up to the week that came before. Summer still smolders, and I’m still not even close to ready for it to end. Enough about that, let’s go back… the only way to do summer right: stall, stall, and stall some more.

Last Friday marked the beginning of the Summer Olympics in Rio, and it looks to be the usual hunk-filled parade of oiled-up beauty and brawn, beginning with this shirtless guy who all but stole the opening ceremony: Pita Taufatofua.

It was a banner week of male nudity – and I’m talking full-frontal male nudes, thanks to a naked Orlando Bloom and an equally-naked Justin Bieber. Not to be outdone, John Cena got nude too.

The bodacious butt of Tyler Hoechlin.

Nick Jonas put on a wet underwear show.

The attic is back, baby, and better than ever. This may be where I spend my fall.

A multifaceted host makes the Hunk of the Day: Osher Ginsberg.

The proper garnish makes all the difference.

Losing my Speedo is better than losing my religion. Losing my pants is simply common-place.

Spring Thaw Salvation, for the Delusional Grandeur Tour, because the dream goes on.

Summer must continue, because Tom Ford just gave us the perfect fragrance for it.

A fencer, a ginger, and a male model, all in one: Race Imboden.

More Hunks: Hugo Parisi, Rogan O’Connor, Ning Zetao, & Jimmy Feigen.

Beneath the glassy surface of the pool in morning, I glide through waves of sunlight, pulling myself through to the other end. The sun is still on the ascent. The day will be a beautiful one. There is no breeze yet, but the water is enough. Beneath my bobbing body, shadows waver, and I dive under again to chase them.

Shadows, rainbows, fortune, happiness, love – there are so many things we chase in this life.

There are just as many things that we try to escape.

Are you the hunter or the game?

If you squint your eyes, and ignore the leaf-blowing and power-washing clamor of the neighbors, you can almost – almost – transport yourself to another world, where waves lap at your toes and the sun beats down upon coconut-tinged skin. I haven’t made enough time to simply enjoy the pool this year as much as I have in years past. There’s been too much to do, but the summer is not over, and I intend to re-indulge at my earliest convenience.

The cypress-like stalks of a pair of potted ornamental grasses lend a tropical aspect to the pool deck, their roots shaded and the edges of their pot softened by the trailing chartreuse leaves of Creeping Jenny.

Summer will soon slip away like a Speedo.

We strive to still the time.

Fresh from the attic rejuvenation, the last thing I want to do is bring in more clutter, but it’s still fun to look. For now, I’m leaving the baubles and bangles in the flea markets, where they are better displayed en masse, and out of my house. Having material items in your possession doesn’t make them more beautiful. There are deeper things at work here.

I’m still not entirely convinced it’s 100% real, so we’re going to require some under-the-spandex investigatory photos to shed some light on the situation, but that is purportedly Tyler Hoechlin’s ample ass on super-duper display. As the latest Superman to grace the small screen, Mr. Hoechlin cements his previous status as Hunk of the Day and makes a play for a whole new feature: going for broke with a bodacious bulge.