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Category Archives: General

A New Year Begins With A Basket

Behold, the New Year.

A chance to reboot the system,

renew the energy,

restore the tried and tired,

and revamp the reviled.

Every year I like to start out with a whisper rather than a bang,

to ease into the tender early days of a new year,

like a rock-hard erection searching for something soft and welcoming.

Yeah, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not doing that this year.

Get ready to bow down, bitches. We go hard or we go home.

This is the year: my final tour, my 40th birthday, and my big reveal.

This is the year it all happens.

Things get more personal, more naked, more daring, and more interactive.

Set your bookmarks, pull up a chair, grab a libation, and hang on to your hats.

w w w . A L A N I L A G A N . c o m

Your guiltiest pleasures are about to come true…

and for this New Year, may all your baskets be bountiful.

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2014: The Year in Review – Part 3

The last look at this past year (and I’m limping through this third installment in all the agony to be expected from one who abhors looking back) features the arrival of fall and winter. Those darker months close out this year in a cozy and sometimes cruel manner. Hold onto your hats, as things are about to get deeply personal. Just remember, it’s going to be a great starting point for next year. The trajectory has just been reset. Get rear to rocket.

September 2014 ~

It always begins so quaintly, with my birthday snuggled into the last days of August. Deviating from tradition, I went to New York City for some shopping and a show (or two). Thanks to the bathroom, the briefs, the brunch, the bubble bath, and the beauty, it was an unforgettable birthday.

September signals a return to school for some unfortunate souls, and I always hated it for that reason.

The year that was all about a shirtless Nick Jonas commenced with this post, when it wasn’t about Chris Evans and his boxing, bouncing butt.

Figs and honey, food and fucking.

The Master of Madonna 101 is about to call class to order again, and I cannot wait.

Transitional fragrances can be tricky, even if the devil wears it.

Coffee and music and everything dreamy. (And then I saw a moose!)

A one poem, two poem, three poem day. Anything to slow the moment, or slow the river.

Another Starbucks episode. I’m entertaining the idea of a Starbucks-fiasco-only blog. It would be filled with shit like this.

I tried my hand at a Bachelor Party for my friend Chris. Afraid it wasn’t your typical Bachelor Party – my fault for inviting girls I guess. Oh well, there was already a baby in the picture.

October 2014 ~

Shit, how am I supposed to get my potty mouth under fucking control with this motherfucker inspiring me like this? SHIT.

Nick Jonas flaunted his crotch and his slightly-hairy ass for all the world to see, and no one complained one bit. Especially when he did it again. Even better was when he talked sex scenes and crotch grabbing.

This mermaid found herself back on Shore.

October is when fall really ripens into itself, and it’s both beautiful and wonderful. It’s also when the one-man-canning-machine goes into overdrive.

One last chance to swim. Without a swimsuit.

We went back to Washington for the wedding of Chris and Darcey, and it was just as lovely as DC usually is. We did a few historical things because I thought Andy would enjoy those – though we all know his favorite part was seeing Stephen Colbert filming a segment on a bicycle. As long as I get a dose of the botanical gardens, I’m good.

Of course our real reason for being there was the wedding of my good friend. Chris and I go way back, and he’s like a brother to me (one who actually enjoys my company, which is rather nice). He found the perfect match in Darcey, who knows best how to handle his moods and whims and sensitive nature. When they walked out with their son Simon I think we all got a little teary-eyed. Even better was when everyone (including the bride in her wedding dress) jumped in the pool at the end of the night.

Why I love my job.

Fall was a time for Passion via Stephen Sondheim and Sex via Madonna.

Thomas Wolski: an artist and a gentleman.

After the fall, but before the fall, and hanging onto my cock for dear life. Sounds exciting, but it made for a dismal Ogunquit stay. Well, almost dismal.

Sometimes this place is better than a Whitman’s Sampler, and without all the messy fruity crap that no one wants. Well, maybe there’s some fruit some of the time.

Get your Kilt on!

November 2014 ~

This is the month when everything changes. There’s nothing to do but hunker down and hold on. Things are going to get very emotional.

The secret to keeping your guacamole green.

Certain artists, like the amazing Joe Phillips, hold a special place in my heart, especially when they’ve been a part of my life since the 90’s.

Nick Jonas lost the purity ring and had sex.

Real heroes don’t call you a fag.

Ben Cohen was finally featured in the Profile of a Straight Ally for all his genuine dedication and hard work.

Gone with the Wind fabulous, from a 30-year-old virgin to a woman who ruled the world, and something decadent for the mouth and for the body.

My first foray into basketball and, you guessed it, last.

The kickoff to the holiday season was madness, rife with emotional land mines and resurrected memories. So I took the road less-traveled-by and I barely made it out alive.

December 2014 ~

Which brings us right to this very month, thankfully on its last legs and ready to depart.

She’ll be back, and better than ever. That’s what she does.

My childhood viewing habits should explain a lot.

Ben Cohen makes everything better.

A December recap within a December recap within a December recap within a yearly recap.

The Christmas season has begun.

My name is not David, but the other impostors didn’t even bother changing my name.

Doing lines, 70’s glam rock style, for this year’s snowy Holiday Card.

A misty water-colored memory brought on by Babs.

I had the best of intentions this holiday season, but my family sometimes has a way of making me feel unwanted. I’m probably partly to blame for that, or for allowing it to happen, so I’m going to try to work it out here. The best part of this blog, and its most valuable aspect, is the way it can be a catalyst for catharsis.

My favorite Christmas moment of the year, with the possible exception of this moment in Florida, this stroll along the Gulf Coast, or this mash-up of palm trees and Christmas trees. I may have to spend next Christmas in Florida.

A pair of fragrances took me away better than Calgon: this Jo Malone creation, and this beauty by Diana Vreeland. Sometimes a girl has to treat herself.

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2014: The Year in Review – Part 2

The midsection of the year finds the seasonal highlight that is spring turning into summer. Weather-wise it is the most glorious time of the year, for gardeners and non-gardeners alike. It’s as if the world is fulfilling the promise it made in the dark moments of winter, and all the tears get washed away beneath the sun.

May 2014 ~

May is the month of Mothers, and I celebrated with mine on our annual Broadway adventure – and an extra surprise. While we were in NY, Hedwig put on a grand show, we strolled through Central Park, saw other ‘Mothers & Sons‘, crossed some beautiful Bridges, had a lovely dinner with Suzie and Adrien Grenier, a lovely brunch by the park, and took in Neil Patrick Harris and his Tony-winning turn in ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch.

It’s also the month of my wedding anniversary. And peonies.

A fountain runs dry and a lady gets naked, while a mother and daughter get real.

OMFG.

One of the saddest moments of the year was the loss of a dear friend. This one’s for you, Lee.

A lighter fragrance for the season.

The Profile of a Straight Ally feature was back in effect with the amazing Hudson Taylor.

Another straight ally, Ben Cohen, got this definitively sexy post, perhaps bested only by this skin-heavy post of his arch-rival in the hotness department, David Beckham. (And Mr. Beckham got a bonus.)

My bottom hurts just thinking about it.

Memories of Ogunquit, made anew, along with an additional port of call. In its peace and beauty, Maine is where I can get undressed and let my hair down.

June 2014 ~

The month that summer officially begins is a welcome one. It provides the weather to get shamelessly shirtless. And it’s not just me.

The deliciousness that is a properly-made fish taco.

Olfactory anticipation awaited in this post, and came to fruition in this one.

The annual explosion of color, and this colorful character kept the season hot and exciting, especially when in the city seeing ‘Here Lies Love.’

Summer means more family fun, thanks to these two. Not yet sold on the dance recitals, however.

Sometimes summer means Madonna, and summer games both wicked and wonderful.

Summer also means Tom Daley in a Speedo. Oh, stretching too.

June means Father’s Day and these memorable DILFs.

June is also the time for Gay Pride in many cities, which means sparkle and sequins.

July 2014 ~

While our family vacation technically began in June, it didn’t get posted until July. I just didn’t want the fun to end, I guess, and putting it down in a post meant it was already over. But there were a trove of beach memories, days spent in the sun and sand, and the general merriment that goes along with a family vacation in Cape Cod. That sort of beauty and goodness stays with one long after the fact, after the delicious seafood dinners and the games of miniature golf. Like all good things, it was over much too quickly. But summer had just begun…

A bit of preening and rose-posing in front of the air conditioned bedroom in Boston, while memories of Russia bobbed in my head.

A naked Michael Phelps got into the water and out of his Speedo, while Zac Efron got onto a horse and out of his shirt.

Flowers, posies, and splashing around the pool – these are summer things.

A Summer Superhero, with a very visible cartoon bulge, who happens to smell really good too.

Anxiously awaiting the next Madonna Moment.

July marks the month I met Andy, and we all know how that turned out. This year, it also marked the arrival of a bundle of joy.

It wasn’t the beach, but it was almost as fun. Chalk it up to the right people being involved.

I’ve got a galaxy you can guard.

August 2014 ~

The last full month of summer began with a capital ‘F’ in it, and the anticipation for a certain movie adaptation started then too.

Lavender dreaming, and more family fun that had to be extended here.

Family isn’t always fun, however, even in the summer, and at times like that it’s sometimes best to get away. All the way to Park Avenue, where I spent my birthday  (but that story didn’t get posted until September…)

A birthday suit post. You’re welcome.

Not quite a good spanky, but you’ll make it through the wilderness like a virgin.

There are good gays, and there are bad gays – and then there are just plain dumb gays.

Yes, I did the ice-bucket challenge, and here’s the video to prove it.

A few favorites got totally starkers and buck-ass naked on the blog, including Matthew Camp, Steve Grand, and Orlando Bloom.

Riding the Trojan horse.

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2014: The Year in Review – Part 1

Last year it took three posts to capture what happened in 2013 (Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3, for those who want to look even further back in the annals of this monstrosity.) This year I’ll do another trio to encapsulate the previous twelve months, but I’m only hitting on the major high points (and several low ones as well, because every dose of sweetness needs a bit of bitter.) For this first post, we return to the beginning of 2014, and the month that started the whole tumultuous journey…

January 2014 ~

It began with one missing finger, lost in the name of our kitchen renovation. No, it’s never been found (even if the hand to which it was attached was later located), but at night sometimes you can hear a nail scraping along the garage floor. Just kidding.

The Year of the Selfie looked to extend its stay, thanks to Jimmy Franco and myself.

Boston memories, Part 1 and Part 2, were glorious reminders of one of the few places I ever felt at home. There were new memories made in Cambridge too, where Japan met Porter Square.

Sometimes the only way to get through a dark January is by remembering Mary Poppins. Or Harold and Maude. Or just Suzie.

The final stretch of a renovation project always feels like the longest. That’s when you need to get away.

What have you done for eleven years?

Pretty but dumb, and even a little hateful.

One of my favorite singers, and one of my favorite albums: Standing At The Edge by Casey Stratton.

What a man, what a man, what a mighty good man.

Finally, the new kitchen was completed! (And that merits another exclamation point!)

February 2014 ~

Is there a more brutal or mercifully-brief month than February? I don’t care if the Superbowl is on. (I did keep an eye on social media to see if David Beckham got naked as promised…)

Like nephew, like Uncle Andy.

A first dinner from the new kitchen kept things cozy, while an angel watched over us.

Naked Olympians in the middle of winter, and Tom Daley in a Speedo.

Kristin Chenoweth proved wicked popular at Proctors.

This is precisely why we got the new kitchen. It ain’t the meat, it’s the motion. But even I couldn’t work this kind of magic, new kitchen or not.

From your head down to your toe… and a digital get-down.

One of the biggest studs of the year was Dan Osborne, who had a lovely little professional relationship with Tom Daley, and took all his clothes off.

Tom Daley got nude too.

They light up my life.

March 2014 ~

Whether it came in like a lion and went out like a lamb will be left up to others to judge.

Back in Boston, back in the beauty of the night, back in briefs black or white, back in the light, and back in the back alleys.

You flush it, I flaunt it – naked more often than not. Jake Gyllenhaal got naked as well. So did Harry Judd.

Flower Power, a Sublime Scent, and a good friend and amazing artist.

Another friend who knows how to write and exploit my former glory.

Bringing fur back, even if for some of us it never went away.

Leading us into temptation was one of the greatest songs ever written, Madonna’s ‘Like A Prayer’ – on its 25th anniversary no less.

It was the year that some of us put our cocks into socks for a good cause. I stayed in jeans and a t-shirt. Well, almost. Oh who the fuck am I kidding?

Family fun and birthday mayhem.

April 2014 ~

This sort of nonsense will always make me cry.

Another meal worthy of another post, wherein we eat around my ass.

More Harry Judd nudity, this time with video. Go deeper. And deeper. Wait, not this deep

Bewitched, bothered and bewildered, my butt. Go ahead, poke fun all you want.

A river runs through it, and the month closed with an escapade in the city Janet Jackson once squealed about: Minneapolis! The Mall of America was a big fat bust, but the city held other allures. Art proved a balm upon the heart, as it always did, and this sweet suite helped. A last look at the Walker… before saying good-bye.

Spring had arrived, and just in time.

Now for the next two installments, come back tomorrow…

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There’s Only One Capri Sun

Despite the flurry of impostors of late, there’s still only one Alan Bennett Ilagan on Twitter, and it’s me, Helen Sinclair! So Follow if you dare, to a world of inappropriate Tweets, racy photographs, ribald behavior, and the general mayhem of my responses to the trolls who call me out on a daily basis. It’s a shit-show in the style of James Franco, with the vain egotism that goes along with moving from 10,000 to 12,000 based less on the quality and more on the shirtlessness. Social media, man, that’s where it’s at. Run and tell that. Hide your kids, hide your wives! There’s only one Capri Sun. And Coke is it. The one that never lets you down. (PS – I abhor capris.)




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I’ll Light A Candle Here in the Dark

A quick good-night quote from a very wise man on this Christmas Eve:

“There is no doubt that it is around the family and the home that all the greatest virtues, the most dominating virtues of human, are created, strengthened and maintained.” – Winston S. Churchill

And sometimes, one must humbly add, destroyed.

“A few years ago I spent Christmas and New Years alone. No family. No friends. No gifts. A little tree with some lights on it. A small Christmas dinner (in a can). Far from home but with a lot of good memories of it. I didn’t feel too sad because I knew things would change for the better because I knew I would change them for the better. It was all up to me, not fate, or luck (although understand that those are big players in this game too). If I didn’t like where I was at that moment I couldn’t feel sorry myself and blame someone else, play the victim. I was the one who put myself there and I knew I was the one that had to change. So I did. See, misery is never very far away from us (it lurks around every dark corner) but neither is joy. You’ve got to roll with that black horse when it visits, ride that bitch out if you can but you’ve got to enjoy the hell out of the other too, when it chances to come your way. Above all, you’ve got to recognize joy when it shows up to dance with you and, sorry, that’s not nearly as easy as it sounds. You’ve got to fight tooth and nail in this life to try and be as happy as you can with the circumstances you’ve been given. You’ve got to fight with every inch of your being for that and grit your teeth and stick out your chin while you’re doing it too because although without a doubt it’s the right fight to be in, it’s going to be hard sometimes. So hard that maybe you’ll be blind to everything else. Along the way however, always remember one thing: even though there are people out there in the world who will take the heart right out of you…there are those who will put it right back in again (let them). Learn to recognize who they are because that’s something really worth knowing. But it’s up to you in the end. It’s up to you to embrace the wonders in this life and to deny the darkness (and there are plenty of both). Be strong, be brave, be kind, be noble and above all, slay your dragons and keep on moving. Don’t stop. And finally, even if happiness forgets you for a little while, never completely forget about it. It’s there waiting for the other to pass. Even in your darkest hour don’t ever doubt that for a second.” ~ Noel James Riggs

~ OR ~

“I’ll cast a spell that you can’t undo, til you wake up and you find that you love me too…” ~ Madonna

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A Holy Night

It wasn’t the presents on Christmas morning, or the magical anticipation of Christmas eve that I recall most when I think of Christmas – it was the ride to church. Yes, church. That obligatory rite of passage before any holiday, the bane of my childhood existence (I’ll tell a few altar boy horror stories later), and the only thing standing in the way of carefree enjoyment of any season. Yet on Christmas eve I didn’t mind it as much, mostly for the ride to and from mass.

We’d be together in the car – and it was so long ago that the music was produced not by CD or cassette tape but by an 8-track. On that evening we’d always listen to ‘O Holy Night’ – and sometimes we sang along.

Fall on your knees
Oh hear the angel voices
Oh night divine,
Oh night, when Christ was born

I still remember some of the Christmas lights along the way – the elegant stars that studded the facade of Paul Tonko’s house, the traditional colored strand that wound its way around a wreath at the bottom of Northampton, and the splendor of an entire yard and manger scene on a particular house where Market Street met Romeyn.

Safe in our warm station wagon, with Dad at the wheel and Mom in the front seat, my brother and I peered out the windows at the lights along the way. Somehow I knew then what most adults had already forgotten – the true meaning of Christmas. It wasn’t the gifts, it wasn’t the Grinch, it wasn’t the hustle and bustle and excitement of the season. It was love, and peace, and a family that was still relatively unrocked by the world.

Merry Christmas, my friends.

Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childhood days, recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth, and transport the traveler back to his own fireside and quiet home! ~ Charles Dickens

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Pre-Christmas Recap

Christmas is coming – it’s practically here! I just spent the weekend in Boston finishing up holiday strolls and holiday shopping, and I’m going to lay low for the rest of the holiday season because I’m not feeling up for fanfare. In the words of that amazing artist who use released a few new songs, “I can’t be  super-hero right now, Even a heart made of shell can break down.” Yeah, I’m feeling that this week. But first, a look back at the last.

A pair of impostors remained a mystery, if a remarkably accurate facsimile of the real thing.

Straight ally  John Fugelsang proved that smart could be sexy, as he was crowned Hunk of the Day.

Porn star Nick Capra proved that hotness is more than skin deep.

Jane Hamilton proved that a good book can be a best friend.

More hunks, in the form of José Anmer Paredes and Mitch ‘The Dragon’ Chilson kept things hot and steamy while December went cold and dark. But not without the glimmer that is Josh Green.

It wouldn’t be the holidays without a dose of family drama. This likely won’t be my last word on things, because if there’s one thing I learned in therapy it’s that things are better said out loud than kept inside. As that wise woman taunts, “It might sound like I’m an unapologetic bitch, but sometimes you know I gotta call it like it is.”

You know you never really knew how much you loved me ’til you lost me…

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December 21 – Then and Now

The first day of winter. Doesn’t seem possible. Feels like we’ve been having winter for quite some time – and yet here it is, only the first official day. That does not bode well for the months to come, the long winter ahead, the snow and ice and frigid temperatures. I already want out.

What did we do on December 21 in previous years? An archived blog helps to figure that out, starting with this entry from 2011. Well, perhaps that’s not so much we did as much as what was posted on said date. The same goes for this post from 2012, and this one from that same year. (2012 was good to us on that date, as Harry Judd also got shirtless then.)

Last year at this time things were stripped bare, Nolan Funk got into his underwear, and an angel came down.

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The Brutality of Blood

“No one fights dirtier or more brutally than blood; only family knows its own weaknesses, the exact placement of the heart. The tragedy is that one can still live with the force of hatred, feel infuriated that once you are born to another, that kinship lasts through life and death, immutable, unchanging, no matter how great the misdeed or betrayal. Blood cannot be denied, and perhaps that’s why we fight tooth and claw, because we cannot—being only human—put asunder what God has joined together.” 

― Whitney Otto, How to Make an American Quilt

Sometimes it takes the superior words of others far more talented than me to convey something that would come out monstrously cruel or petty and childish, so I’ll let an expert like Whitney Otto speak to the complex bullshit that family doles out, especially around the holidays. One day, though, I’ll tell my own story. It’s not the one that everyone wants to hear, and it’s probably not the one they think they know, but it will be honest and brutal and true, which will only serve to infuriate certain people all the more. The truth does that.

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Will the Real Alan Ilagan Please Stand Up?

“Somewhere, right at the bottom of one’s own being, one generally does know where one should go and what one should do. But there are times when the clown we call “I” behaves in such a distracting fashion that the inner voice cannot make its presence felt.”
― C.G. Jung

There’s nothing like an imposter to make you take a look at yourself and how ridiculous you might actually be. Such was the case when a fake Twitter Alan Ilagan cropped up on my feed the other day. At first, I was flattered and amused – the mark of any supposedly-vain soul – and more than a little curious. Who would dare try to be me? More importantly, who might want to?

The person behind the account certainly seemed to have a grasp on who I was, at least of the caricature I tend to portray when online. It got me to dwelling a bit on the online personae we create for ourselves. The internet entity that you know as Alan Ilagan – and that I’ve worked rather doggedly hard on crafting as Alan Ilagan – has little resemblance to the scared little boy that I hide in the deep protected fathoms of my heart. I don’t show that guy to the world because he can’t handle the evils of everything on the internet. The anonymous trolls that social media has brought forth from the darkest pools of hatred would have a field day if I didn’t protect myself with a coat of aloof armor, and an arsenal of sarcasm that puts most of any ignorant attackers to bed before they know they’ve been tucked in.

“Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.” ― C.G. Jung

Yet as I read some of the tweets from the fake “Real Alan Ilagan” I was struck by how easily some of them might have slipped out of my mouth. How far had I strayed from the real me when engaging on FaceBook and Twitter, and, to a lesser extent as I’m a little more honest in this space, right here on this blog? As I examined my own ridiculousness I had to own up to a few things – the first of which was how often I am just that – utterly ridiculous. And I’m ok with that. Luckily, much of it is an exaggeration of myself, done mainly for entertainment – yours and mine.

An examination of our selfie-obsessed selves, James Franco-style, always runs the risk of producing accusations of vanity and hubris – yet that is precisely the result of today’s technology and the online world, where the ease of a camera-phone and the ability to share images with the entire planet can make us all “celebrities” in a certain respect. The likes and the views and the visitors, the easy access to instant love and mass adoration, like waves of applause washing over Eve Harrington – it all feels so seductive, and it’s easy to get photoshopped up into believing all of this is real. Which brings me back to internet impostors.

There’s always someone behind you. Sometimes they want to help, sometimes they want to hurt, sometimes they want to play, and sometimes that want to push. Sometimes it’s you, and sometimes it’s me, and sometimes it’s someone we’ve never even met.

You can pretend to be real, but do you even exist? There’s only one way to show yourself to the world, and you can’t do it by revealing yourself or your face or even by taking off all your clothes. You can only do it by revealing your heart.

“Be silent and listen: have you recognized your madness and do you admit it? Have you noticed that all your foundations are completely mired in madness? Do you not want to recognize your madness and welcome it in a friendly manner? You wanted to accept everything. So accept madness too. Let the light of your madness shine, and it will suddenly dawn on you. Madness is not to be despised and not to be feared, but instead you should give it life…If you want to find paths, you should also not spurn madness, since it makes up such a great part of your nature…Be glad that you can recognize it, for you will thus avoid becoming its victim. Madness is a special form of the spirit and clings to all teachings and philosophies, but even more to daily life, since life itself is full of craziness and at bottom utterly illogical. Man strives toward reason only so that he can make rules for himself. Life itself has no rules. That is its mystery and its unknown law. What you call knowledge is an attempt to impose something comprehensible on life.”
― C.G. Jung

 

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A Quick Coffee Break

The barista calls out my drink order for a Decaf Skinny Peppermint Mocha and I lean in to pick it up. A bearded gentleman gives me a smirk and says, “Decaf? What’s the point?!” I smile and say, “For the taste!” He laughs a little and moves on.

Dude, I have a Skinny Peppermint Mocha in my hand and you go for the decaf angle? I gave you a lot to work with there and you squandered it. If you’re not going to step up to the plate, put the bat down.

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A Recap for the Middle of December

With all the snow we’ve had already, it’s worth noting that winter has not even officially begun yet. Just thought I’d put that out there to give us some sad perspective on how the next few months will play out. Thankfully, there are things to keep the cockles of the heart warm and cozy, and I’ll do my best to keep things hot here.

Ginger hottie Seth Fornea set off a fiery Hunk of the Day run, which continued with Joe Zaso and Ben Patrick Johnson.

Tea & poetry.

A pair of impostors cropped up (coincidentally?) on the same day, and I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.

Babs, Part 1.

Mixing things up with Tom Ford.

A teaser.

A pleaser.

And this year’s snowy holiday card.

Babs, Part 2.

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Let It Snow! Let It Blow! The Holiday Card 2014

“And the mist of snow, as he had foreseen, was still on it – a ghost of snow falling in the bright sunlight, softly and steadily floating and turning and pausing, soundlessly meeting the snow that covered, as with a transparent mirage, the bare bright cobbles. He loved it – he stood still and loved it. Its beauty was paralyzing – beyond all words, all experience, all dream. No fairy-story he had ever read could be compared with it – none had ever given him this extraordinary combination of ethereal loveliness with a something else, unnameable, which was just faintly and deliciously terrifying.” ~ Conrad Aiken, “Silent Snow, Secret Snow”

This year’s holiday card takes its theme from my hair: white. Blow and go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. That’s right, I’ve gone all blustery and Whitney on you, but for theatrical purposes only. (I made an alibi video of how the card was created in case Andy decided to press any sort of charges on the drug cartel in his basement. Let’s just say Arm & Hammer was the sole supplier for all the supposed fun.)

This sets the stage for next year’s tour, so if you don’t like what you see here, come back at some point in 2016 because it’s only going to get rockier. Sometimes you have to go dark to see the light. Happy Holidays!!!

“Just why it should have happened, or why it should have happened just when it did, he could not, of course, possibly have said; nor perhaps could it even have occurred to him to ask. The thing was above all a secret, something to be preciously concealed from Mother and Father; and to that very fact it owed an enormous part of its deliciousness. It was like a peculiarly beautiful trinket to be carried unmentioned in one’s trouser-pocket – a rare stamp, an old coin, a few tiny gold links found trodden out of shape on the path in the park, a pebble of carnelian, a sea shell distinguishable from all others by an unusual spot or stripe-and, as if it were anyone of these, he carried around with him everywhere a warm and persistent and increasingly beautiful sense of possession. Nor was it only a sense of possession – it was also a sense of protection. It was as if, in some delightful way, his secret gave him a fortress, a wall behind which he could retreat into heavenly seclusion.” ~ Conrad Aiken, “Silent Snow, Secret Snow”

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The Countdown Begins… Tonight’s the Night

This evening will mark the Holiday Card 2014 Reveal on this very site, so come back later for all the wider wonder. In the meantime, a brief look back at some notable cards that came before. The very first card I ever sent out was done way back in 1995, and it had a theme I returned to time and time again: S&M. It doesn’t stand for Santa and Magic, but I love a light S&M scene for the holidays. Who doesn’t?

Of course, variety is the spice of life, so every few years I liked to change it up, as seen in the featured photo here, from 2004’s chilly holiday shot, wherein I sprayed my hair in ice queen style. That sort of simplicity has gone by the wayside in recent years, but it will return one day because it’s, well, simple. For 2005 and 2007, seen below, there were more cheeky holiday hellos, the first of which was the accessory-rich mirrored jock-shot that not everyone loved, while the latter Santa-gone-bad was a favorite (though not one of mine – it’s not easy to smoke and drink beside a dumpster on a freezing night while your husband laughs at you).

Speaking of husbands, the only card that’s ever featured Andy was from 2010 – the year of our wedding – in which we posed around the pool in our wedding garb. This is a sentimental favorite for obvious reasons, and the first time I ever shared billing with another person.

That’s right, the boy has grown up and learned to share, as proven in 2011’s family-friendly fare, where I pulled a wagon with my niece and nephew.

Lest anyone think I was going in a family direction, 2012 marked a return to the tasteless and racy, as things got bloody and violent. I happened to love this little Santa’s massacre night, front and back.

Last year I sent out the easiest-ever holiday card: a picture of me and my brother from our childhood. It was a little sweeter than a bloody organ.

Which sets the stage for a return to something more… edgy. And snowy. And blowy… Get ready for the white stuff. Tonight’s the night.

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