Category Archives: General

The kitchen renovation has been delayed a week (more on that later – much more), so we’re in a holding pattern. Yet things here must go on, so I’m populating the posts for the week ahead and doing what I always do in the name of survival. There are people that count on the daily dosage of soft gay porn that this site supposedly provides, so let’s get to it. There will be deeper things too, stories you wouldn’t even believe so I may just document them under fiction and avoid sticky questions. For now, the typical Monday look back.

It’s always best to begin with a poem.

If anyone knows anything about male grooming, it’s Tom Ford.

And if anyone doesn’t need much grooming, it’s a toss-up among the Hunks of the Day: Alexander Ludwig, Ashley Gibson, and Nathan Owens.

A tentative plan ended up playing out perfectly, but I’ll detail that in a later post.

Thanksgiving came and went…

And December reared its questionable head.

Sexier pics from this shoot can be found HERE. Go on and click it. You know you want to.

It’s not a real book but it should be.

(I especially like her previous work.)

Hello winter weather, and thar she blows! The wind was whipping up something fierce last night, and… hold up, why am I talking like someone on ‘Hee Haw’? It must be the onslaught of holiday insanity, arriving just in time. This is the week of Thanksgiving – there’s no pretending we’re not in the season anymore, so rather than fight it, I’m embracing it, as I always try to do (and often fail). It’s a different sort of year, given that our kitchen will be (literally) tore up from the floor up starting next week (that’s right – next week – and I’m just as interested in you as to how the kitchen will be emptied by that time). On with the recap!

Warning: Graphic images!

Some fierce fun with Kira, with whom I could let my hair down (no word on whether my pants followed suit).

Update: my pants came down.

Washington loved this coat.

Henry Cavill worked it all out. Shirtlessly, of course.

Steve Grand worked it shirtlessly too.

Chord Overstreet… yup, shirtless.

Jon Varak simply bulged.

Give it up for a naked Liev Schreiber too.

I covered back up with the most important outfit of the year. And here’s a better view.

There’s something about a red room.

For all those who have wanted to make me cry, here’s the no-longer-secret way.

But there’s always a thing or two of beauty to act as balm for the soul.

Finally, my favorite holiday tradition is intact, and Andy and I saw this on the big screen in Saratoga for the first time ever, followed by a frigid and wind-whipped stroll on Broadway after the show.

It must have been 1996 or 1997 – and Suzie was at the Braddock Park condo in Boston for a holiday party. The walls then were an unabashed bordello red. A fringed lamp glowed low in a corner. Leopard-print curtains were held in place by floating gold cherubs, and a panel of purple velvet separated the red living room from the green kitchen. Over-sized Christmas ornaments hung from the ceiling, and colorful Christmas lights twinkled in the window. The atmosphere was cozy and quaint, even if it was the day after the party. I’d cleaned up the sticky floor earlier in the day – always the first task after a party, and things were finally getting back in shape. I opened up the early gift that Suzie left me – a VHS cassette of ‘Auntie Mame’ – and collapsed on the couch. The opening Technicolor glory and swelling orchestra music took me to another world.

I watched rapt – transfixed by the magic of Rosalind Russell and this over-the-top force-of-nature known as Auntie Mame – and the message of living life to the fullest, feeling not just okay with being different but embracing it, hit my heart in a way that would resonate forever after. Leave it to Suzie to find another movie that changed my life (after the darker foot-steps of ‘Harold & Maude’).

From that point on, ‘Auntie Mame’ was the movie I played before each and every holiday party, to calm the nerves and put me – and whomever else happened to be around – in a festive spirit. Mame’s exuberance and love of life was infectious – it was impossible not to be swept up in her enthusiasm. She was knocked around a bit (going broke, losing a husband) but she always buoyed back to the surface, spirits somehow held high by a supporting cast of off-beat characters that she considered family – because she had to: she only had her nephew.

Can we take a moment to pay homage to the fashion too? Auntie Mame is a thorough-bred clothes-horse. The hats/fascinators alone are a wonder to behold. The garments that go with them are just as head-turning. Even her robe – an extravagant ostrich-feather-lined (lined, not bordered – LINED!) defines luxurious lounge-wear. Velvets, silk taffeta, and crystal beading combine for one eye-popping outfit after another. With her ever-changing hairstyles and colors, she was one of the original chameleons, morphing from one look to another as her living room transformed with her current obsession. Such shape-shifting was an inspiration, but the core of who she was – a champion for the outsider – remained intact. That’s my idea of a role model.

A few weeks ago I recommended to Andy that we start working on moving some things out of the kitchen, as it must be completely empty by December 2, when renovations are set to begin. Why yes, that’s less than two weeks away, and this is the last weekend I’m in town. I’d do it myself, except nothing in the kitchen is mine. As expected, nothing has been done yet, but I’m actually not concerned. I’ve made it clear that I’m not moving things on the night of December 1, so if he wants any help with it he’ll do it sooner rather than later.

Personally, I’m of a mind to trash the majority of things – food and otherwise – as some things are simply never used, while others are surely well beyond their expiration dates (we have spices and canned goods from the 1990’s). It’s the most wonderful time of the year to clear out and consolidate.

As for planning ahead, the last time I recommended we pack up kitchen items early – when we moved into our current home in 2002 – Andy ended up packing things up at 4AM on the morning we were set to move. History has a way of repeating itself. (I wasn’t concerned then, and I’m not concerned now.)

I don’t smile enough in a lot of photos posted here. Most of The Pictures are brooding, contemplative poses, with downcast or searching eyes, avoiding the lens, avoiding the viewer, always separate, always distant. When I do smile, it is often fake, or forced, so when I get a fun friend like Kira to pose with me, you get a rare glimpse of what I’m like in real life. There’s no strict stringency to it, no precise perfectionism at work. It’s just me goofing off with a cherished friend. These are better than any racy underwear pics or naked skin shots. They are unchoreographed, unplanned, and caught completely on the fly. In this instance, we were on our way out to dinner, after a glass of wine. Kira didn’t realize that the camera was going to take more than one photo, so she broke away and started laughing when it continued to click. Which only made me laugh more. Yeah, you had to be there.

This is the week it happens, the switch to Holiday Season mayhem. The Beaujolais Nouveau Wine Celebration, in support of the AIDS Council, officially kicks off the season, and I’m still befuddled as to my outfit. That’s not like me – usually I’ve committed by August. Sometimes real life gets in the way. And to buy me a bit more time before the routine to the posting grind, this recap – spanning two weeks, as somehow the last recap slipped through my fingers.

The 100th Madonna Timeline entry was posted, and it was, fittingly, not a major milestone in the Madonna canon, but perfect for the way this timeline ebbs and flows ~ ‘Nothing Fails‘. Followed by ‘Mother & Father‘, the journey continues.

Thanksgiving came a little early, but we’ve always been ahead of the curve.

For fall, here is a simple and powerful (albeit fleeting) bouquet.

After a few months, I made my peace with Starbucks.

Everyone wants to think that this is how I give a blow-job.

When stalling for time, post a gay porn star photo, and a couple of links.

I made a solo trip to New Jersey to find the perfect slab of rock.

My niece and nephew continued to be the cutest pair of twins on earth.

This was not a cop-out. I would never.

For your enjoyment, the Hunks got shirtless – and a few even got naked – so say hello to the fine likes of Charlie Harding, Steven Kuchinsky, Chris Evans, Caio Cesar, Cristiano Ronaldo, Chris Hemsworth, Nick Youngquest, Tyrone Nell, Ben Cohen, Adam Lambert, and Russell Tovey.

As important as sexy guys are, they pale in comparison to my Christmas Wish list 2013. Much does.

Finally, to set us up for this week, I made a trip to Washington, DC for my friends Chris and Darcey’s baby shower. As is usually the case, Washington proved a good time, but more on that later.

While I’m in Washington for the weekend, here’s a linky look back on previous visits. It remains one of my favorite places, for sentimental reasons mostly, but also for its culture – some of which I have only touched the surface. I still have yet to explore much of the Smithsonian, and I’ve never even been to the Lincoln Memorial. (The National Zoo remains my favorite, so I do that almost every time I’m there. I’m a sucker for the pandas.) Perhaps I’ll be able to do a few more things this weekend. In the meantime, here’s what came before:

One of my favorite things to do: sidecars at the Jefferson.

A difficult thing to do while in this city: avoiding politics.

A place to stave the chill off.

A bathroom floor to-die-for.

An amazing dish of Peking duck.

A visit to the White House, with no pot to piss in.

And more family memories that shade any Washington visit, in very good ways.

Today I’m jetting to Washington, DC for a baby shower for my friend Chris. As I may have likely mentioned, this marks my fifth baby shower, which for a guy is a little strange, even if I am gay. (Although for that matter I honestly don’t know another gay guy who’s gone to a baby shower. Maybe it’s just me, and my torturous karma for decrying babies all these years.) This is one I’ve actually been happily anticipating, as it’s a Jack and Jill affair (the other ones I’ve attended have been all women – which can be a bit much).

Normally I wouldn’t travel this far for a baby shower. Even Suzie’s in Brooklyn was a bit of a stretch for an as-yet-unborn child, but Chris is the guy who performed our marriage ceremony. He’s the guy who taught me to be a little less afraid of straight men. He’s the guy who showed me that true nobility came not in titles or riches or fancy clothes, but in the integrity of an honest heart. He’s been one of my best friends for almost two decades, and anyone who sticks around this crazy mad-house of moods deserves some serious loyalty. Besides, the mother-to-be is even cooler than Chris.