Category Archives: Gratuitous Nudity

Here it is, the perennial promise I make every summer and holiday season: I’m going to take it easy, reel it back on the number of posts on this blog, slow down on the activities I do, and simply enjoy the lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. It won’t happen, but I’m going to attempt it. And part of that means pictures are going to take the place of words – like this throwback vintage shot from a few years ago. For those of you who enjoy the pool shots, you’re about to get your wish – for those that don’t… see you in September.

It’s been a while since I’ve dropped trou here (I challenge you to scroll back to find it – it will take a while), so here’s something to appease the two people who have been asking. Say what you will, gratuitous male nudity makes this site go around.

A number of people have asked me why I don’t start an Instagram account, citing all the pics I post. To be honest, that’s the entire reason in itself: I already post enough photos – why do I want another outlet and time-burner for that? Besides, Madonna was already warned about her Instagram photos – it would be just a matter of time before my account got shut down by the powers-that-be. No, for now you’ll have to come here to get a bum-rush like the one you see here today. This is basically what my Instagram shots would look like – and I think I’ve suffered enough em-bare-ass-ment for one day.

Having said all that, I’ll probably join a few years from now, when it’s starting to subside, like I did with Twitter. I’m a Virgo. It takes me a while to embrace the change. Of course, if you want to make the world a better place, take a look at your ass and make a change. (Sorry, I’m on some serious sleep-deprivation…)

ADDENDUM: I’m now on Instagram under ‘alanilagan’. I had to let it happen… I had to change…

You’ve asked for it for years. I’ve teased and toyed, hemmed and hawed, held it and hesitated. The longest bout of edging is drawing to its inevitable close, and today is the day. We have come to the Full-frontal male nudity final frontier of this site. Are you ready to rock out with your cock out? Hang on… and scroll down. Way down… because an event of this magnitude requires a little teasing before the pleasing…

The day you knew would arrive is here – you’ll survive…

Oh come on.

A disconnected moment.

A silence in the middle of the day.

A gaze of both longing and being exactly where one wants to be.

Looking out at the world is the first step in becoming brave.

A curtain.

Hanging in the window.

Disguising and hiding nothing in the light.

When what you cannot see can still be seen, what you think they cannot see still can be seen.

A watcher.

Observed observer.

Peering from a kitchen window.

Before going back to the morning, back to the start of the day, back to where it all began.

This Happy Birthday post is for you. Yes, you – you who have taken the time to click away from wherever you were to come here, wherever here is, and see me don my birthday suit in honor of your special day. This is the Birthday Suit Post for all birthdays. Now assume the position for your lucky birthday spanking…

When you think about it, I’ve been honoring you in my birthday suit for years, through dozens of posts, countless gratuitously-shameless promo shots designed to titillate and disturb, like here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and here… But this is about you, and your birthday. So have a happy one.

Because at the technical tail-end of Winter, you do what you gotta do to survive – in this case, re-living summer glory, remembering sunny days, and re-visiting shameless shots. Bare with me until this season closes its doors. (I’m told we’re getting snow.)

We’re so hard, aren’t we, on people who are given everything? If you’d been given everything, you mightn’t have wandered very far from the pool deck, though perhaps you wouldn’t have spent quite so much time in the direct sun. It’s as if, when someone has it all, we demand that he be tormented by some pointless ambition for more. Here he is, rich and handsome, beating off women with a stick, and he’s supposed to go have adventures, try himself somehow, scour the earth for some unhappiness. ~ Mark Merlis, An Arrow’s Flight

Maybe they really were lovers, maybe this at last was what the word meant: your lover was the one you had to shelter from the worst things you knew about yourself. Yes, this had to be it, the hot shame and, somewhere beneath it, a strange, hopeless sort of jubilation. ~ Mark Merlis, An Arrow’s Flight