Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

Shirtless And/Or Naked Male Momentum

The men are in motion, and while our parade of Hunks of the Day has been relatively steady of late, it’s always nice to do a broader best-of collection to highlight some gentlemen who have been featured here recently, or those from the past who should be seen again. First up is the amazing Adam Rippon, who continues to make splashes into the pop culture world, proving that figure skating can make it to the masses, provided the skater has enough star power and charisma. Mr. Rippon has ample supplies of both – and check out this naked display of his body for additional opportunities for ogling. He recently did a commercial with Danny Amendola, so the pic below is a twofer from me to you. Mr. Amendola has been featured here before as well, so visit that post if you are so inclined.

Jake Quickenden relaxes in a sauna, while his sweaty body reminds us of his turn as Hunk of the Day.

Sidharth Malhotra was recently crowned not once, but twice in as many weeks, an almost-unprecedented feat that sets him up for a third honor at some point in the future.

Some have called him an unlikely choice for Hunk of the Day, but Jay Mohr more than justifies his selection with his wit and talent. Check out his HOD crowning if you don’t believe me. Hunks come in all shapes and sizes.

The many faces of Antoni Porowski all say the same thing: hot. Witness his Hunk of the Day feature to see more.

Giving Tom Daley a dive for his Speedo-clad money, Jack Laugher has brightened up this blog with his scantily-attired appearances here, here, here and here. (Or type his name into the Archives and see what other things come up… hint, hint.)

Finally, a duo unrelated in any way other than their proximity on this blog, which is reason enough to celebrate. Shawn Mendes recently showed the world how he took a shower, while Ray Quinn flexed his shirtless muscles as Hunk of the Day.

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A Brief Conversation, Recalled

Whenever I need to smile, I think of this exchange I had with my friend Kira on one of our Boston weekends:

Kira:“What do you call those people who crash weddings?”

Me:“Wedding crashers?”

Kira:“Yes, that’s it.”

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Our Week of Thanks Begins With A Recap

Yeah, that’s right, Thanksgiving is at hand.

That’s gonna leave a mark.

It’s too soon.

Why is no one reeeeeeeeeady?

Clearly, some pre-holiday insanity has infiltrated my brain-drain.

Let’s just look back at the last week and see if we can figure out what the hell happened.

My first project in five years, PVRTD, premiered online. Check out The Projects for the latest addition.

A quieter Christmas wish list

The insomniac’s lament.

A fall fragrance by Jo Malone

New New York.

Ben Cohen, Simon Dunn & other foxy gents by Snooty Fox Images

A Boston reunion with an old friend brings the beautiful hints of holidays to come

A fall party at the Cape.

 

These #TinyThreads will build a tapestry. 

Hunks of the Day included Charles Venn, Jesse Palmer, Morgan CipresStaniel Ferreira, Josh Moore and Doug Armstrong.

 

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

National Song Lyric Day should be a holiday where we have to speak only in song lyrics.

If we took a holiday, everything would be ok.

Don’t tell me to stop.

Stop in the name of love.

One night in the name of love.

Who wrote the book of love?

Who’s Johnny?

Johnny Angel…

You must be an angel.

I believe that dreams come true.

Dream on.

The beat goes on.

#TinyThreads

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The Cape and A Fall Party

Kira and I woke to the rain on Saturday morning. (Until we can afford a proper renovation, we are dealing with our condo plumbing issues as they arise.) Those problems aside, we lounged around the condo while the rain fell for most of the morning, idly sipping on tea and cleaning the remaining plates and glasses from the night before. The winter/holiday bedding was back on the bed, along with its dark red velvet accent pillows and sumptuous plush Korean blanket.

As if on cue for our trip to the Cape, the clouds suddenly lifted, the sky appeared, and bits of sun were suddenly scattered about. We gathered our bags together and hit the busy road to Cape Cod. Who on earth is going that way in November? Apparently a ton of people, as the traffic was horrendous, but eventually we made our way over the bridge and into Monument Beach.

JoAnn has always known how to throw a party, bringing people together when they need it the most. The Cape Crew trickled in throughout the day, Wally’s Dickens-Cider was bubbling on the stove, and a roaring fire was the central place where people sought relief from the wind. We huddled around it as Peaches stoked the flames and I was grateful to be around that group of friends again. We’ve all seen a lot in the last twenty years, but somehow we always make it back to the fall party.

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A Beautiful Boston Reunion Before the Cape – Part 2

Inside the condo, all was light and warmth and jazz. An almost-Christmas compilation played in the background, and as this was the last time I would be over before the holiday mayhem I decided to get the bulk of the decorating done. (This year’s Boston Children’s Holiday Hour has been planned and loosely scheduled, as has my Holiday Stroll with Kira.) And on such a frightful evening, bringing out the lights and the garland and the mantle pieces lent it a coziness that would have otherwise been missing. Grateful for the activity to pass the time until Kira arrived, I assembled the smattering of holiday decorations that I’ve amassed over the years. I lit a few candles that smelled of pinecones and tassels (at least according to the Yankee Candle company) and the decorating work was done.

As it was cocktail hour, I sliced off a peel of orange and conjured a Negroni for the fall evening. It was time to set about to making dinner, and I chopped some onion and fennel for the risotto, opened the white wine, and lit the fire beneath the chicken stock.

Risotto is all about the continuous stirring and ladling of the hot stock. It’s slightly monotonous, which gives it a soothing aspect, and a cold night when the wind and rain were whipping about just outside the window, there was no happier exercise in which to indulge. The steam rose around me as the rice slowly took in the stock and flavors of the onion and fennel. The hard white-gray pellets softened and gave up their chalkiness, melting into a creamy but firm consistency, and by the time Kira rang the buzzer, it was almost complete.

I’ve cooked for Kira a few times, and it’s one of my favorite things to do. She has taken up the knife and pot and tried some new things on her own, but for the most part she enjoys the clean-up, while I do the food-and-mess-making. She taught me a few things about how to make a wrinkle-free bed, so it all evens out in the end. On this evening, I made the risotto and we feasted on that and the wine, and all was well with the world.

Outside, the storm raged. A steady downpour ripped the leaves from the trees, while the wind moaned and did its best to infiltrate whatever cracks or crevices age and time had worked to widen. Inside, we basked in the glow and heat of a dinner just cooked, and a multitude of candles giving light and warmth to every corner. This, then was fall. This was coziness. This was comfort. This would be how we made it through another winter.

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A Beautiful Boston Reunion Before the Cape – Part 1

There was rain threatened for the first part of the weekend and, much worse when rain is concerned, wind as well. The weather was changing and a temperature drop was imminent. Somehow, I avoided the wet stuff on the ride from Albany to Boston, but as I parked and headed to the condo, there was a discernible damp chill to the rushing air. I had only a few hours before the rain was scheduled to start, so I did some power shopping and planned to stop at the market to get the ingredients for a risotto. Kira and I hadn’t seen each other in months, and I was going to make her dinner so we wouldn’t have to brave the elements, especially when they were about to turn so dire. Still, a few hours was ample time to find some beauty left in the light, and that’s what these few photos capture.

As I went along on a quick shopping spree, the day advanced and turned colder. The wind picked up and it was a cruel one, whipping and lashing about with no respite. I’d round each corner hoping for a spot of relief, but they only revealed another rush of icy air. The storm was coming.

As if an antidote for this shift in weather, the very beginning of the holiday shopping season was at hand. A few places had Christmas music playing, but I didn’t mind. Someone recently said that people who put their Christmas trees up earlier were happier people. I say fuck putting up a tree this early – at least in our house – but more power to anyone if it makes them happier. That would only serve to stress me out, given that we use a live tree and there’s no way it would make it to Christmas, much less little Christmas in January when Andy tends to take the tree down. That said, I embraced the early signals of the season. The day was so bleak those signs warmed the heart just when it was needed.

The bustle of a market on a Friday afternoon was a happy confusion. I procured the necessary items for a quick dinner, then dragged the shopping bags and groceries home. By the time I made it back to the condo, it was already dark. The wind had only grown more vicious and the rain began just as I started unpacking the bags…

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

Stranger on the office elevator: “Why do you have to try so hard to dress better than the rest of us?”

Me: “Oh, I’m not trying.”

#TinyThreads

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Behind the Lens: Snooty Fox Images

Working with some of the hottest male celebrities in the firmament, Leo Holden of Snooty Fox Images has established his brand as a sterling example of how to polish a celebrity’s image while adding layers of depth and beauty. Crisp and bright, yet shadowed with depth in all the right places, Holden’s photographs reveal his subjects sometimes literally and sometimes in a subtle look or gaze. There is sexiness here, but a purity as well – the pure beauty of the human body with the spirit of the subject shining through.

Witness the way he brings out the sultry glow of Aaron Renfree or the indomitable inspiration of Ben Cohen, then feast your eyes on how he brings out new levels of emotion in Stuart Reardon and extra shades of sexiness in Simon Dunn.

See the malleable fluidity that Andrew Hayden Smith exudes in the triptych below and the simple but powerful portraiture on display in so much of his work. Beauty breeds more beauty, and inspiration feeds on itself. Taken together, Holden conjures works of art that elevate his subjects to heights of heavenly fancy.

Visit his glorious website here to see more of his work.

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The Semi-Annual Pearl Street Starbucks Rant

It invariably happens, every six months or so, that the Starbucks on Pearl Street (Store #07922) in Albany (the only Starbucks in the downtown Albany area, where my office happens to be) ends up breaking my heart. After avoiding it and settling for Dunkin Donuts or Cider Belly for my mid-day coffee break after their last fiasco, I had given them another go, and there was a different cast of characters operating the caffeine machine so I had hope there would be improvements in the service. Alas, it was not to be.

I don’t take an early lunch, so by the time I get out for coffee it’s around 1:30 or 2 PM – not exactly rush hour. Yet for some reason, with all the socializing and singing and general lollygagging, the time it took to get coffee was stretching into ten to fifteen minutes. I started keeping track as a game to see how long it would take and live-tweeting the whole thing. Sometimes it was good – and I was happy to point out if a drink came in under five minutes (I didn’t have to do it that often). Mostly they were falling between nine and twelve minutes. Still strange, since I don’t usually have such issues at other Starbucks, but hey, this is Pearl Street.

That said, sometimes there’s no excuse for taking fifteen minutes to make a drink. Especially when I see you socializing and laughing and pausing work to finish a story on how short you are and always shave been all your life. I’ve worked in a number of places – retail stores, a restaurant, and all sorts of offices. In every situation I love to see people enjoying their work day. An office that gets along well and shares laughs and genial conversation during working hours is generally one that is putting out quality work. But there’s a balance, and when you start delivering one coffee drink every fifteen minutes, something is wrong.

On this day, I entered and found the usual line of three or four people, and a few more awaiting their drinks. Behind the counter, there were three baristas. One was mopping the floor and making a big production out of it. “Oh, this mop is so heavy! It’s, like, twenty pounds!” One was half-heartedly making drinks, but with the growing line and group of people waiting, she didn’t seem to be moving very quickly. Still, three people in front of me wasn’t bad. So I waited. And waited. And waited. A guy who was also waiting finally approached and asked about his egg sandwich, which they had apparently forgotten about. The woman in front of me also got the wrong order and they had to remake it. Throughout it all, the baristas continued to hold their side conversations instead of simply focusing on banging out some coffee. Fifteen minutes after I got there, my drink was ready.

My comment was, admittedly, a little snarky: “15 minutes later…” I said, with a little laugh.

The barista didn’t find it funny. “Well,” she huffed, “I just had to make a bunch of drinks before you.”

I wasn’t having it either. “I know. Last week it only took 13 minutes to get a coffee.”

She did not go silent. “That’s how it works,” she challenged. “Everyone wants Starbucks.”

Umm, not anymore. See you in another six months for the next Twitter showdown.

Post Script: That Starbucks location has since shut down. There are now zero Starbucks stores in downtown Albany.

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

Some threads don’t deserve to be part of the tapestry we have going here, but who knows? Someday they may play a part. There is wisdom there, perhaps, or the golden rule of hoarding. Such fine lines, such tiny threads…

#TinyThreads

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A New New York Journey

This weekend Andy and I are headed to New York with Mom and Dad to see ‘Come From Away,’ while trying out the only New York Kimpton Hotel we haven’t stayed at yet – the Ink 48. I’m not sure which I’m more excited about: seeing the show, staying at the hotel, or having a weekend away with three of my favorite people. The Kimpton company has always been our favorite host when traveling, and after excellent stays at the Muse and the Hotel Eventi I cant wait to see what this property offers.

Many people claim that when staying in New York the hotel doesn’t matter as much as what you’ll be doing. In my younger years, that definitely proved to be true, especially considering some sketchy stays I survived in Chelsea, but as I’ve grown older I find the hotel matters a little bit more. A good view, a decadent bathroom, and room to breathe are more important than nights out until 3 AM. Thankfully, Kimpton has proven adept at supplying both comfort and entertainment, so I’m confident we will all enjoy our first stay at the Ink 48.

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

People who are relentlessly happy arouse suspicion in me.

#TinyThreads

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Put the Tree & Fruit All Over My Body

Early November is a tricky time for fragrance. The first flush of fall excitement, when I get all spicy and incense-like, has passed (Tom Ford’s ‘Amber Absolute‘ and ‘Vert D’Encens‘), but we are not quite to the point where I want to indulge in the sumptuous and rich sandalwood favorites I use around the holidays (‘Santal Blush‘ and ‘Absolutely Vital‘). What are we to do when searching for a fill-in fragrance to carry us into Thanksgiving? Look to Jo Malone.

While much of this line is too light for me, and, in a way, too light for fall, ‘English Oak & Redcurrant’ has proven remarkably durable when sprayed generously. The oak was what first attracted me to it at this time of the year. Oak leaves are currently dominating the wind and raking season, and the subtle yet infinite shades of cinnamon and bark they produce are a beautiful way to transition us into the more muted tones of colder days to come. The earthiness of the oak tempers the sweetness of the redcurrant, even if the latter leans toward tart. Malone is masterful at these fragrance mash-ups, and in her capable hands they’re more like marriages. (For sunnier days, try her basil and neroli coupling – it’s exquisite, even if it doesn’t last.) This one has decent longevity when compared with the rest of her offerings, and it’s a pleasant reminder to myself that I do like the fresh and fruity on occasion. If you’re looking for a brighter scent to set this fall aglow, give ‘English Oak & Redcurrant’ a try.

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