Monthly Archives:

August 2016

The Great Gratuitous Greg Rutherford Post

Greg Rutherford has been one of the most popular figures featured here, and thanks to this sizzling collection of photos the reasons are quite apparent. It doesn’t get hotter than a super-fit ginger who has been an ally to the LGBT community for his entire career. Cheeky photo-shoots that emphasize his ass don’t hurt either, and he has just the right amount of body ink to be both elegant and a little edgy. Here, we present some of his finer shots in honor of his long-jump endeavors at the Rio Summer Olympics.

Mr. Rutherford’s history here goes back a while, with his initial Hunk of the Day feature, wherein he posed and pulled his pants down just enough to whet the appetite for more.

He got a little more naked here for a butt-baring GIF that I’ll repost below for good measure.

On Twitter I posed the question of whether Christoph Harting was the hottest ginger at these summer Olympics. A resounding ‘NO’ was also accompanied by the simple proclamation that it was Greg Rutherford. Who am I to argue with Twitter?

In addition to his features, Rutherford also helms a number of miscellaneous posts, such as this one, where he adds his powerful back-end to the naked likes of Orlando Bloom, Justin Bieber, and Epke Wonderland.

His most nude post maybe this sexy recap where he joins force with a naked Dan Osborne for some British Booty Exhibitionism.

Even when he’s a minor, albeit-crotch-grabbing, part of a post, he still burns bright, even in black-and-white.

Congrats to Mr. Rutherford for making it to another Olympic Games. Here’s hoping this is just the beginning of many more fabulous photo shoots. Go Gingers!

{And if you want to see his biggest ass-baring photo, it’s right here in this post.}

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Olympic Ginger Spotlight: Christoph Harting

This discus-throwing ginger behemoth from Germany just won the Gold Medal at the Rio Olympics, and there’s absolutely nothing about this that I don’t like. This site has been partial to gingers since the great Greg Rutherford disrobed for the first (but not the last) time. As for Mr. Harting, kudos to his gold-medal-winning spin-and-throw.

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A Tour, and Body, Laid Bare

The Delusional Grandeur Tour may be even more delusional than originally thought, as my traveling seems to have diminished greatly. When you only have to step out your back door to an 87-degree pool, and back inside to a cool 70-degree house, travel seems largely unappealing. That said, I still enjoy a jaunt out of town, and this tour is still in full-effect until I say it isn’t. Hence this bonus tour post, which recalls the Hotel portion of the Tour book. Rather than trouble you with further discussion, here are a few links to bring you back to one of my favorite hobbies: staying in hotels.

“I’m more at home with my backpack, sleeping in a hotel room or on a bus or on an airplane. Than I am necessarily on a bed. It’s weird being here. It feels like I’m standing next to my real life.” ~ Henry Rollins

There’s a distinctive shift that comes over me when I’m in a hotel room. A sense of safety in anonymity, the possibility of being unknown and untouchable. Ensconced in a lofty space high above a city, or on the ground floor of some seaside retreat, I find comfort in being a transient stranger.

We are all known in our own circles, and that can be incredibly wearying.

As much as we strive to be known, to be recognized, to be seen, we sometimes forget that it comes with its own set of burdens and responsibilities.

I long for a different kind of freedom, something that can only be found when you go away.

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A Bevy of Olympic Hotties

I will never understand, or forgive, NBC for relegating the men’s springboard diving competition to 1:30 AM, but by chance and luck I managed to catch the bodacious back-ends of the whole thing to see Jack Laugher and Chris Mears win the gold in a spellbinding upset. The US gained the silver and the heavily-favored Chinese team earned the bronze. It was quite the (late) night. Mr. Laugher and Mr. Mears have been featured here before, so this seems as good a time as any to recap some of the loveliness that this Olympic Games has brought into our lives.

Chris Mears has gone naked for some scorching layouts, and Jack Laugher bared his butt for all the world to see as well.

Tom Daley and his diving partner Dan Goodfellow made a striking pair, and a pair of practically-splash free performances.

Michael Phelps has made more history winning a couple more gold medals in these games, but most visitors to these parts will focus on his naked photos for the ESPN Body Issue. His friendly rivalry with Ryan Lochte, and not-so-friendly rivalry with Chad Le Clos made for some riveting moments. Mr. Lochte has his own sizable following, thanks to pics like these.

Another swimmer who made a sexy splash on this site is Marcelo Chierighini.

The US Men’s Gymnastics team didn’t fare as well medal-wise, but body-wise they were charged up and ready to impress, proudly proclaiming they be happy to perform without shirts. No one put up an argument.

Entering the second week of the Summer Olympics, we’re only about half-way through, so more Hunks are sure to come.

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Olympic Swimmer Spotlight: Joseph Schooling

When he was a kid, Joseph Schooling looked up to Michael Phelps as an inspiration for an incredible swimming career. Today, Schooling edged out Phelps for the Gold Medal, and it was a sight to behold. The swimmer from Singapore sailed past Phelps and Chad Le Clos to take his own moment of Olympic glory. It was a great race, and seeing Phelps give him a hug at the end of it is an exercise in classy sportsmanship. Congrats to Mr. Schooling on his golden triumph.

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Olympic Volleyball Spotlight: Matt Anderson

Volleyball dynamo Matt Anderson has done wonders for the US team in the Rio Summer Olympics, and he’s doing some fine things for the blog as well if we are to judge this crop of fit and fine photos. Mr. Anderson also has a growing collection of body ink artwork. I’m especially partial to that tree. (And that beard.)

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Justin Bieber: Totally Naked

Everyone seems to be getting naked this summer, and Justin Bieber was one of the biggest stars to go nude a few weeks ago in Hawaii. While I’ll never be a Justin Bieber fan, some of you are, and who am I to deny a few shots of Mr. Bieber’s naked ass? You’ll have to look elsewhere for those full-frontals though; this joint is clean.

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Olympic Hero Spotlight: Amini Fonua

“It is still illegal to be gay in Tonga, and while I’m strong enough to be me in front of the world, not everybody else is. Respect that.” ~ Amini Fonua

The amazingly courageous Amini Fonua is an openly-gay athlete competing in the Summer Olympics this year. He represents Tonga, where it is illegal to be gay. His openness is both brave and heroic, and he puts a very powerful face on the fact that there is still hatred and discrimination in this world. For those who have never had to wonder whether being themselves would endanger them, I ask that you think about what it would be like if your sexuality was a constant source of angst and worry, if you had to be concerned that who you love might land you in jail, beaten up, or killed. Mr. Fonua is fighting against that, and that deserves more than a gold medal.

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Cutest Olympic Pair: Dan & Tom

While David Boudia and Steele Johnson may have the hold on Sexiest Olympic Pair, Tom Daley and Dan Goodfellow are arguably the Cutest Pair to medal with Olympic Glory. As we ooh and ogle over the fittest forms the world has to offer, it’s a good moment to remember that, perhaps more than anything else, the Olympics are about teamwork. There are definitely (I was absolutely riveted by a women’s volleyball game, for instance, even more than a men’s swimming event, and that goes to show you just how powerful the pull of human teamwork can be). In this instance, we have the best of both worlds.

Tom Daley is no stranger to these pages, from reading in his Speedo to jumping around in his Speedo to doing it all almost without his Speedo. Dan Goodfellow is a newcomer here, but stay tuned for his impending Hunk of the Day honor. Taken together, they spun through the air in glorious tandem, and with enough skill to earn a medal.

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Olympic Gymnast Spotlight: Brinn Bevan

Born in the year of our Queen’s ‘Ray of Light’ triumph (1997) British gymnast Brinn Bevan flexes his impressive muscles for this Olympic treat. His body betrays a growing trend in Olympic champions: body ink. Many opt for the five linked Olympic rings, but some branch out to words.

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #129 – ‘Pray For Spanish Eyes’ ~ Fall 1991

{Note: The Madonna Timeline is an ongoing feature, where I put the iPod on shuffle, and write a little anecdote on whatever was going on in my life when that Madonna song was released and/or came to prominence in my mind.}

Smoke hung in the air, gray like everything at that time of the year. Somewhere, someone was burning leaves. It was already November, and fire would inform everything for the next few months. In summer we smolder; in winter we burn. Though the ‘Like A Prayer’ album had been out for two years, I was just getting into the deep cuts, and ‘Pray For Spanish Eyes’ came on the walk-man as I raked up the oak leaves in our endless backyard.

I KNOW FOR SURE HIS HEART IS HERE WITH ME

THOUGH I WISH HIM BACK I KNOW HE CANNOT SEE

MY HAND’S TREMBLING, I KNOW HE HEARS ME SING.

The earth was dry, which was best for raking and bagging, and all life had died back in the frosts and frigid nights of the weeks before. From my hands, decayed and desiccated leaves sifted through my fingers, as if I was Father Time sprinkling the sands of history over a barren land. Beneath the leaves was the brown ground, still scorched from the end of summer.

I LIGHT THIS CANDLE AND WATCH IT THROW TEARS ON MY PILLOW

AND IF THERE IS A CHRIST, HE’LL COME TONIGHT, TO PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES

AND IF I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO SHOW BUT TEARS ON MY PILLOW

WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THIS? IF GOD EXISTS, THEN HELP ME PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES. 

Looking up, I peer through bare branches and pine boughs, one running into the other, weaving a tapestry of limbs and needles. A cold wind moves overhead. Soon, snow will appear, but not on this day. We teeter on the edge, not quite ready to plummet into winter. It is dreary weather. It ebbs away at the soul with its overriding monotony, the dull way a barren landscape blunts the viewer’s gaze.

HE HAD TO FIGHT LIKE ALL THE REST

IN THE BARRIO ALL THE STREETS ARE PAVED WITH FEAR

I DON’T UNDERSTAND; AT LEAST HE WAS A MAN.

It is a difficult time in my life. The scent of fallen oak leaves will remind me of it in the years to come. A mournful, earthy scent fronted by the tomb-like mineral mist rising from the soil. I look around. A line of black garbage bags stands closer to the house, a conflux of short, abstract watchers, mute and faceless against the white house. The cleared expanse around me looks neat and clean. A small sliver of pride surfaces, but I tuck it away. No one extols the virtues of a spoiled teenager.

I LIGHT THIS CANDLE AND WATCH IT THROW TEARS ON MY PILLOW

AND IF THERE IS A CHRIST, HE’LL COME TONIGHT, TO PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES

AND IF I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO SHOW BUT TEARS ON MY PILLOW

WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THIS? IF GOD EXISTS, THEN HELP ME PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES.

Seeking a savior of some sort, I search the sky for signs of impending change. Simultaneously, I wish to be rescued and to wreak vengeance. Punishment and forgiveness, banishment and rebirth. I suppose I was seeking God, if God is indeed Love. Where was He? Where was I meant to be? As evening descended, and the grays all around me grew darker, I walked out of the forest back to the house. There was darkness in both places.

In my bedroom, I play the penultimate track on ‘Like A Prayer’ and light a candle in my mind.

This was the album that brought us such emotional tracks as ‘Promise To Try‘ and ‘Oh Father’ – and this song was in the same Catholic and confessional vein. The greatest Madonna songs tell a story – either in their lyrics or their video accompaniment. In this instance, a loose narrative of a savior – it could be Jesus, it could be a soldier, it could be a stranger, it could be a lover – carries through the guitar-laden ballad. This mysterious male phantom figure, perhaps a ghost of her then-recent divorce from Sean Penn, leaves Madonna questioning herself, her love, and the very existence of God.

HOW MANY LIVES WILL THEY HAVE TO TAKE? HOW MUCH HEARTACHE?

HOW MANY SUNS WILL THEY HAVE TO BURN? SPANISH EYES, WHEN WILL THEY EVER LEARN?

In Madonna, I found my savior. In her I found something more resonant than a God who sent his only son to die for others. How many suns will they have to burn? Those suns could be read as sons, and the first-born will always bear the brunt of the burn. 

YOU WERE NOT THE MARAVILLA IN OUR MIND

WE WERE PROUD TO FIGHT BUT WE CANNOT WIN THIS BLIND

STAND YOUR GUNS AGAINST THE WALL, WHO’S NEXT IN LINE TO FALL?

I LIGHT THIS CANDLE AND WATCH IT THROW TEARS ON MY PILLOW

AND IF THERE IS A CHRIST, HE’LL COME TONIGHT, TO PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES

AND IF I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO SHOW BUT TEARS ON MY PILLOW

WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THIS? IF GOD EXISTS, THEN HELP ME PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES.

My ghostly reflection looks back at me from the window, features smudged in the dirty glass, form abstract and ill-defined. In the darkness and haze, I hide my tears. Even if they ran as red as the blood of Christ, you would not see them. Though they burn my cheeks, I do not make a sound. Someone else will have to speak for me. Amid a flourish of trumpets, Madonna cries out in passion:

HOW MANY LIVES WILL THEY HAVE TO TAKE? HOW MUCH HEARTACHE?

HOW MANY SUNS WILL THEY HAVE TO BURN? SPANISH EYES, WHEN WILL THEY EVER LEARN?

There is nothing to do but sleep. That fall, it is the only place I find peace.

A guitar fades into oblivion.

A whispered prayer escapes my lips.

Tears betray my eyes.

TUS LAGRIMAS DE TRISTEZA

NO ME DEJAN OLVIDARTE

SONG #129: ‘Pray For Spanish Eyes’ ~ Fall 1991

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Olympic Diver Spotlight: Michael Hixon

If Zac Efron were to slip into a Speedo and dive a routine worthy of an Olympic Silver Medal, he might look something like Michael Hixon, this late evening’s spotlight guy. Mr. Hixon and his partner just won the silver medal in something of an upset, but no one’s all that upset by anything because we got to see this guy in all his glory.

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Even More Ryan Lochte (And That Bulge)

What more can be said about Ryan Lochte that hasn’t been said (and linked) in this post from yesterday? Not much, but here are a few more photos of Mr. Lochte and his world-renowned Speedo bulge. If you’re looking for in-depth Olympic analysis, look elsewhere. This is for ogling and objectification. And you know you love it.

 

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Olympic Swimmer Spotlight: Ryan Held

One of the more touching moments of the Summer Olympics in Rio was the medal ceremony for the gold-winning US male swimmers: Nathan Adrian, Jimmy Feigen, Michael Phelps, and our spotlight stealer of the day Ryan Held. Whether overcome with joy, happiness, relief, accomplishment, or the long arduous journey it took to get there, Ryan Held wept openly on the podium, before Michael Phelps gave him a little hug and gave some veteran comfort to the new guy. It was a nice moment to see, and the sort of thing that moves me most about these Olympic games.

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The Time Has Come To Buy Me Many Things

We don’t need the walrus to tell us that. It’s August, people. Come the 24th, I’ll be celebrating my birthday, which means that now is the time to order the gifts for timely delivery. My Amazon Wish List has just been updated, but for those of you more dear to me (and vice versa) here are a few items that would make my early 40’s fantastically fabulous.

High on the list is this elusive pair of soon-to-be-vintage Jeremy Scott Adidas sneakers. Long out of circulation, they are only available on eBay now, which makes these a long shot – but I’m not giving up. (Once upon a time I let a gorgeous Louis Vuitton overcoat go and have regretted it ever since.) The official name of these beauties is the ‘Adidas x Jeremy Scott Men JS Wings 3.0 Gold’, size 10 or 10.5.

On the cologne front – and there’s always a cologne front – I’m enraptured by the gorgeous and decadent chords of Kilian’s ‘Straight to Heaven’ – and in spite of its atrocious name, the fragrance is exquisite, and perfect for the transition from summer to fall.

I’m asking my parents for my first trip to Rehoboth, but if there’s anything left over from that big-ticket item perhaps it might be for a massage at the Mandarin (which is another big-ticket item, but as a wise woman once put it, ‘A lot of people don’t say what they want. That’s why they don’t get what they want.’)

I’ve never been shy about wanting, so check out this bottle of glory for satiating the desire.

I usually have a longer list of bags and briefcases for birthday wishes and dreams, but after cleaning up the attic, I’ve realized I don’t need a new bag or briefcase anytime soon, or a robe for that matter. Still, I favor fragrance, and if you can’t be indulged on your birthday, when can you be indulged?

A word to the important people: as I’ll be traveling on my birthday, some foresight and planning will be involved. Tick tock, tick tock…

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