Phallic Friday

Out of sheer gayness (and maybe a little boredom), I’m going to start doing another long-contemplated alliterative weekly feature. I have a feeling this one won’t last as long as the smiles and pretty faces. Although I may never get tired of seeing the real thing, how many beer cans, guns, and bananas can a person look at? But hey, let’s give it a shot….

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you — voilà! — Phallic Friday.

 Jonathan Rhys Meyers holding a long baguette

Well, that’s half my phallic photo collection right there. This is going to get a lot harder than I thought. Buh-dum-pum-tsh!

Happy Monday

Every Monday I post photos of guys smiling. This week, the Lenten smile purge continues. Here are twelve instead of the usual three.
 
 

 
 

 
 

 
 

International Mister Leather

Sometimes the world is really a very small place.

A long while ago, a friend of mine in New York sent me a link to a blog written by this young guy in L.A.. He wrote simply that it might interest me, and it did. Eventually, I blogged about one of that L.A. guy’s blog entries, and in due course, he sent me a short message about it. That was last October.

So right now, Mike, one of my Portland friends, is down in L.A. working on a movie set for a few weeks. Tonight, he saw me online and chatted a little, then sent me a link to some photos of the production. When I clicked, I realized it was that same L.A. kid’s blog, and I mentioned that I knew who he was. Mike said, “Graham?” And I said yes, that’s the guy. They’re working on the same movie. Small fucking world, huh?

When I checked out the blog entry with all the photos, Mike’s picture was down at the bottom. (He’s the one weilding a knife.) It wasn’t ’til I had seen it several times that I realized that, hey, he’s wearing my tee-shirt, the one that I’ve had for ten years because it fits so well, the one I wear as a joke because across the front it says “International Mister Leather.”

Happy Monday — Buddies

Every Monday I post photos of guys smiling. Last week, while posting lots of extras, I noticed that I had a bunch of pictures of buddies together. And I also noticed that not only do they frequently dress alike, but that they often resemble each other quite a bit too. It’s natural, maybe, but also a little creepy.
 
 

 
 

 
 

 
 
Dating …um, I mean befriending someone who looks like you, well, that seems like a subconscious behavior — an animal instinct. That means it’s almost fated. Determined at birth, if you will. And while sometimes a little sickening because of the obvious narcisism, it’s also kind of sad because of how clearly it demonstrates our lack of control over our own lives. Biology, as they say, is destiny; it can even choose your friends.
 
 

 
 

 
 

On the other hand, emulating or dressing like your buddy (puting on the same color tee-shirt, for example) is clearly intentional, and as such it carries with it the faint air of a possible man crush. Maybe one of the guys even has secret thoughts that no one else knows about, if you know what I mean. So sometimes when I see two best friends together, I feel like I’m privy to a little too much information. I want to tell them quietly, “Guys, I know you’re in love, but…”

Cheeseball Recipe

Grow a mustache.

One of the de rigeur elements of the beard removal process is to shave your facial hair into styles that you’d normally never wear, just to see how it would look. I happen to have a naturally bushy Walrus ’stache. Very 70’s, huh? And was that not the cheesiest decade in all of human history?

This post could also be titled “A Surefire Cure for the Blues” or perhaps “Natural Prozac.” Just try not to laugh while posing with a giant fucking Pancho Villa mustache on your lip.

I think this would lend itself well to a themed party — a Valentine’s Mustache Party maybe? A Spring Break Mustache Party? A Fuck a Statutory Rapist Party? The jokes would be endless. The sex would be… hmmm.

How to Lose Ten Pounds and Feel Ten Years Younger in Ten Minutes Without Dieting or Exercise

Shave.

However, I think these days there’s less of a difference than there used to be. Plus, I kind of like the beard look better now; it makes me feel like a Civil War General.