Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

It’s 4/20.

{Insert requisite pot joke here.}

Now that we’ve moved beyond that, let’s also hopefully have moved beyond my recent bout with the flu, and our recent bout with endless awful weather. At the time of this writing, my flu has limped mostly away, but the day is soaked with a vicious downpour so I’m not going anywhere anyway. By the time this gets publicly posted, however, I’m hoping to be in happier spirits and better places, so my eye is on that. In the meantime, may all this rain be healing, and may it fortify the land to give us a beautiful crop of summer foliage and flowers. 

Not all rainy days are washouts. Some give flights to fancy, others give rise to creative urges and exploration. A few simply pause the relentless rush of everyday activities, forcing us inside into contemplation and rumination. I am grateful for the respite. That outside mess can wait. 

At the tail end (God-willing) of a wretched bout with Flu B (cause it knocks you on your booty), I’m in no mood to do a big intro to this recap of a rather lackluster week of posts. Not to worry, good things are brewing here, so come back later this week for the usual excitement and scintillation. On with the last week of sick shit:

The Adam Lambert treat.

Losing hope…

Fizzy wizzy makes me dizzy.

Super staunch news!

Hints of nudity, if you follow the links.

Flu B, baby!

Hunks of the Day included: Lewis Tan, Thomas Wade Nicholls, Blake Mitchell & Jwan Yosef. 

Greetings! Welcome to Day 6 of my Flu B Extravaganza! Today’s exercise in delirium is brought to you by Congestion & Snot Shots! After a few days of the bone-rattling chills quickly followed by hot-flashes to rival the worst that have ever shaken my office of female co-workers, my flu is hopefully shaking off the fever and moving into the snot-fest of sneezing, coughing and mounting sinus pressure. I’m not sure which is worse or when this bullshit will end. I do know that I don’t think I can stand much more soup and fluid and DayQuil and NyQuil and ibuprofen and Saltines. 

I have been very good about staying hydrated – regular stops in the kitchen to grab a glass of water or decaf green tea, followed by all the required stops in the bathroom to piss it all out. My joints hurt too much to juice an orange, so Andy has been good enough to do that and provide me with fresh OJ using the oranges that Mom delivered. I did manage to carve up a grapefruit, so I’m fully fortified with Vitamin C. 

And still I wait for the flu to limp away…

Thus far, I’ve only had one memorable run-in with the police while working on ‘The Circus Project’ (I was naked and standing on a busted-up excavator, which you should totally find on this project page). And then there was the time I got locked in a cemetery while I was in drag (and without a change of clothes). Those are far worse than this story, but I enjoyed it anyway. 

These things happen. 

This is the most exciting news Andy and I have heard in a long time: a new ‘Grey Gardens‘ movie is on the horizon! As most fans know, the original seed that brought us those beautiful gardens was planted when another movie was in the planning stages. Peter Beard, Andy Warhol and Lee Radziwill were working on that one, and the footage for ‘That Summer’ looks to be culled from that film-that-never-was. It includes the first glimpses of Big and Little Edie Beale. Swedish filmmaker Göran Hugo Olson has turned all of it into a new movie, and we can’t wait to see it. 

The trailer begins in promising form: “Everything was perfect in those days…”

At the time of this writing, I am fighting off some sort of flu thing that has me simultaneously going through frigid bone-rattling chills and sweat-dripping hot flashes within five minutes of each other. There’s also the body aches and pains that accompany it all, which is super fun. All the NyQuil and DayQuil has me feeling a bit trippy too, so bear with this brunt of a post. See, I don’t even think that’s correct but I can’t be bothered to check. That’s not the point of this post anyway. 

We’ve had a rough start to spring, if it can even be called that, and it’s hard to find hope in all this brown and gray and frozen earth. But the other day I found the smallest little balls of promise on the weeping larch, and if a crying shrub can produce a happy bit of hope, then maybe we can all find the same. In these photos, tightly coiled and ready to pop open, is the start of the season. It’s taken too long.

The world could use a little more Adam Lambert, especially in the middle of a lackluster day. Mr. Lambert has been here before in memorable form, and is set to be featured again now that were doing Dazzlers. 

Fresh off a fun-filled weekend in Boston, this recap will have to hold you over until the tales of that adventure get written and posted by Thursday. In the meantime, check out everything that has happened int he last week, and pray for warmth because no one can take any more winter weather. 

Cristiano Ronaldo stripped to his skivvies. 

A sensation: the Aviation. 

Todrick Hall was the lone Hunk of the Day for the week. 

Just put tulips together and blow. 

Spring on Broadway with two of my favorite people. 

Easter peek-a-boo.

Hope & Debris. 

Family Easter fun.

Little Easter extras. 

Date night with Andy in Saratoga.

Scarlet flashes.

This post recounted some very crappy service at the Albany Melting Pot restaurant. 

If you have a chance, check out a live ‘Cigarettes After Sex’ show because it’s just too dreamy. 

The Donut Dip. 

Ever since I mooned a man in the parking lot of Dan-Dee Donuts in Amsterdam when I was eight or nine years old, doughnuts have held a special place in my heart. That said, I don’t often (or ever) go out of my way to get one of the fried rings of golden goodness. However, Suzie asked if we could make a stop at one of her husband’s favorite doughnut places – The Donut Dip – in Springfield while on our way back from Boston. 

Happily, it was well worth the little detour. We arrived to a small parking section packed with cars, and the small storefront was filled with people, but they were quick and efficient and there wasn’t much of a wait. Established in 1957 and owned by the same family ever since, this was a pleasant throwback to a more innocent time. The perfect way to accentuate a Sunday morning. 

I opted for a toasted coconut doughnut, and a small decaf. The doughnut was delightful; the coffee left something to be desired. I suppose that’s the way it should be. All in all, this was a nice little unexpected excursion to close out a fun weekend in Boston. That whole tale is yet to come…