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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