There’s no greater joy than dissolving into uncontrollable laughter with an old friend over nothing. As you can see from the evolution of these photos, I tried to be serious, but ultimately failed. Kira held it together much better, but her expression seems more confused (and therefore more hilarious) than anything else. Like so many who know me so well, my antics don’t register as anything more than typical nonsense. All in a day.

We tried to do a more meaningful photo set earlier in the day, but these lighthearted shots are more indicative of our easygoing, enjoyable relationship. I’ve known Kira for almost seventeen years, and in that time she’s become like family. I’ve never needed that more than I have recently, so seeing her in Boston last weekend was a boon to my heart.

She’s one of the few people in the world around whom I am completely comfortable to be myself, and to let my guard down. Hell, I even got into bed with the woman. (Despite what you may have heard in the past, I don’t usually do that. I like a healthy three feet of distance between me and the closest person, and woe to those who violate that issue.)

She’s like a sister to me, and someday I’ll go deep and try to figure out why I seek out substitute parents and siblings who will protect and make me feel safe. Kira does that ~ in her unassuming kindness, in her supportive, helpful way, in her genuinely good-hearted nature. It is one thing to act out of forced familial obligation, quite another to actively choose to be kind and interested in someone.

As you can tell from the evolution of these photos, we always deteriorate into laughter, no matter how hard I try to be serious. That ease and release is something I treasure above all else. It’s rare and it’s precious and it’s the only way I’ve known to feel like all is right with the world.

While broken marriages are not usually a laughing matter, sometimes a little joke is exactly what is needed to put things in perspective and move on with your life. To that end, Kira and I worked through her relationship woes with a few staged photos meant to depict the waning days of a marriage. We only got two semi-serious shots out of the whole thing (the comical test shots are coming up because they make me laugh hysterically) which is actually a good thing. Reaching the stage where you can laugh at something is the final part of the healing process.

Intended to portray two people at the end of their ropes, at the very moment between hanging on and letting go, these pictures hint at darkness, and the dimming of the romantic idealization of love. Heavy stuff for two silly friends just filling a Saturday afternoon. There is more than a little cathartic magic in make-believe.

It’s almost blasphemous to post this on a day like Good Friday, but such is the state of this blog. When in doubt, blast out the blasphemy! God strike me down if I did you wrong, this is not a love song! I saw these crazy kids running in Boston during last weekend’s snow Saturday. Weather be damned, they were going to get their meat run on if it killed them. I was in a far less celebratory mood, barely containing my disgust in my winter parka, and certainly not running around like a lunatic in a hamburger costume. (And I almost always love a costume, especially in an unlikely place – which is basically anywhere when you’re a hamburger.)

Move over Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian, my sex scandal involving a woman is about to hit the sheets – I mean the streets. Rather than let rumors and stories circulate, rather than allow speculation to run wildly rampant, I’m going to put it all out here and let you get it straight from the source.

Years ago, my friend Kira and I went out for an after-work shopping expedition to some mall outside of Boston. A friend and co-worker offered us some weed, but we each steadfastly refused. I just didn’t do it, but Kira’s explanation was more succinct, and I quote: “If I do that I will make love to Alan right here in the backseat of this car!” Obviously, I pushed the pot as far away from Kira as I could.

Cut to this past weekend in Boston. While there was no pot involved, one photo shoot led to another and before you know it we might as well have lit up a doobie or swallowed a batch of funny brownies.

You know my motto in life: hit it and quit it.

And you know my other motto on days like this: Happy April Fool’s!

Due to the twins’ birthday and a weekend in Boston, I didn’t get to post a weekly recap yesterday, so let’s get that out of the way now. It’s the last day of March anyway, which makes it ideal for such a look back. I hesitate to see that we have seen the last of winter, particularly in such a cruel year, but I saw daffodils poking through the ground in Boston, and snowdrops in actual bloom. The pendulum is on its swift move. Stand back.

The Hunk of the Day feature here went a little deeper with this entry honoring legendary Olympian Greg Louganis.

A fun family dinner welcomed Elaine and Tony back into the moody Northeast spring.

Andy and I turned up the Homoradio.

Silver-fox favorite Max Joseph and Zac Efron made a pair of fine-looking gentlemen.

Marking his second appearance as Hunk of the Day, male supermodel Noah Mills once again made a pretty splash.

I finished ‘Wasn’t Tomorrow Wonderful?’ by Kenneth Walsh, and it was quite wonderful indeed.

Another inspirational Hunk of the Day, Noah Galloway, showed the world how to overcome anything.

Groundbreaking or not, I love florals for spring.

Eat the fish!

The Ãœber-fit Roger Frampton in all his shirtless glory.

It wouldn’t have been nearly as good a week without a little shirtless Channing Tatum, and a naked Austin Armacost.

A touching Special Guest Blog by my pal Joel.

But the highlight of the whole run was this stripped-down-but-epic performance of ‘Ghosttown’ by Madonna and Taylor Swift. Bow down.