Showing posts with label HOTTIES. Show all posts
Showing posts with label HOTTIES. Show all posts

Monday, November 14, 2011

THE 3 GAYS

Last week, while at work I chatted up a 2 guys whom I was very attracted to, and whom I assumed might play for my team. Naturally I gave them liberal samples of beer and expelled my knowledge concerning such beverages. At some point they were joined by another gentleman, also very good looking. But I figured they were just 3 guys hanging out, which they were...but.

While I was waiting for the bartender to count his money/do paper work, I checked in on Grindr. I know, totally trashy but endlessly amusing. Right away I was messaged "hey are you the guy talking to me about beer?" I almost gasped. Not only was it the hot "alpha" of the group, but he lived 200 feet away, and his profile picture was of him only wearing football shoulder pads.

Anyways, so the guy on his left was his boyfriend that he lives with, and the one on his right was his "regular fuck buddy". I've never met a couple with an actual, honest and seemingly healthy open relationship...and they are apparently looking to add a fourth to the mix. An idea of which I'm reluctant, but very curious about. I mean, these guys are FUCKING HOT!

Last night the trio came in again, and it was...odd serving them beer and food. Mostly because they got me all horny, but really because I could feel their eyes on me, even from across the room. While I'm still on the clock "alpha" gay is texting me, and invited me to go out later to a gay bar. I declined.

I dunno. It's random, confusing and exciting - all at once! Story to be continued...

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

I HEART MARK SALLING/PUCK

OK, here goes...I need to get something off my chest. Whew. I totally watch the shit out of the new show Glee. Yes, it well written, well acted, etc, but one of the main reasons I watch it, is because of the character Puck.


Now, I assume since he's an actor playing a high school character that he was like, 23 or something, but he's even older (my research indicates 27). That little bit of trivia upped hotness factor. I don't know what it is...he's not that good-looking, and in fact he's the type of guy that usually annoys the shit out of me.

You know the type...cocky as all hell, thinks he's the shizz, etc. And don't get me started on the stupid fucking fake poser "Mohawk" thing. Any yet...despite all the things going against him, last night I had a dream of going against him, as it were. OK, let me clarify, if it were up to me, we'd be bumping uglies til' the break of dawn.

And yet...I struggle to understand why this person compels me to fantasize about getting in his pants. That type of guy is nowhere near to what I'd want in a boyfriend. But still, that raw, manly swagger (and he's from Texas too, another random quality that for whatever reason makes me want it in the worst way) that makes my nipples harder than alloy steel (eat your heart out Gloria!).

If you'll excuse me, I must prepare myself for tonight's new episode of Glee...

Thursday, July 23, 2009

THAT IS SOME ASS!

SO! My beloved Cubs have been fucking up this year (although I still think we'll win the division - sorry Card's, Astro's and Brewers fans, but you're bound to implode). Any who...Rich Harden has been inconsistent and such, but his ass is still amazing. Like, really...how does one achieve an ass like his? Must be genetics. Sorry for the lazy post, but I had a late night, and I'm tired. In the meantime, enjoy the gratuitous ass shots!





If there is a better ass in baseball, I'd like to know who it belongs too!

Friday, April 17, 2009

JOHNNY LANG AND I ARE DATING (IN MY MIND)

In addition to my not-secret love of Grady Sizemore, I've been harboring another crush, one I've kept more "secret"...on JOHNNY LANG! Not only does he possess a voice capable of bringing me to my knees (haha), he's just mind-blowingly hot. 



He was on Leno tonight, and holy fucking shit, he looked so good, and sounded even better. He's looks like he should be in a lame-ass boy band, but sounds like an 80 year old, world-weary man (a quality I seek out in men, to be honest). 

He is a genetic mistake, in that such a talented musician should not be allowed to be so talented and this fuckin' hot. I'm usually distrustful of physically attractive musicians, and yet, somehow he escapes this paradox. People this lucky usually piss me the hell off...but I'll continue to let him slide; now he just needs to confirm his love/lust for me and the world will regain it's balance.   


Monday, March 2, 2009

MY NEW FAVORITE BAND...THE WALKMEN

GAWD...he's dreamy...

This entire concert tends to blow my mind, but if you're short on time, check out "Red Moon" (he's so fucking cute) and/or "On the Water". 

Friday, November 21, 2008

THE HOTTIES IN THE BAR

Another of my awesome high school girlfriend's (emphasis on "friend") was in town last night, and I met up with her and a bunch of her friends at a trendy, little, hipster hole in the wall bar on the West Side. Nice enough place, but it was way too crowded, stiflingly and way too loud. The guitar player in this band kept jumping off stage and getting all up in my grill, so we decided to go to the shitty dump bar across the street.

Dive bars...oh how I love thee. $2 boiler makers and $1 pints of Old Style. Total Chicago shit. The crowd was a mixture of hipsters trying way to hard to look cool, random crusty old timers and low level gang bangers. A nice cross section, if you ask me. Out of all of the people there, I noted 2 hotties. One looked a bit like Justin from the American Queer as Folk, and the other guy looked like a hipster version of Kyan Douglas. Hot. He had a sweet ass too, the type you bounce quarters off of if one was so inclined (I was but I didn't have any change).

Anyways, my friend Liz, her friends and I were busy getting drunk and playing around. Liz put someone's pink scarf around me and we were "dancing" when the Kyan Douglas look-alike approaches...ME! I shit you not he says "hey man, want to join my friend and I (the cute blond Justin look-alike) at our table?" At first I was confused because this was about the furthest thing away from being a gay bar, and he didn't look gay. Not even a little bit...

...but Liz and her friends we all about it. I took a piss and was getting another Jack 'n Coke when Liz says he keeps looking over at me. At this point I was drunk enough to say "fuck it" and I went over to hang with the hotties. "Kyan" was totally drunk but he kept mentioning that he only lives 3 blocks away. I'm thinking, oh HELL YEAH, bring this shit on! It was soon after revealed that the blond "Justin" was his Roomie (3-some!) but that he has a girlfriend (damnit!).

My friends were getting their shit together to leave but they encouraged me to stay...so I did. Sadly, soon afterwards, the 2 hotties decided they were tuckered out and were heading home. I was thinking of offering the guy my number or something, but I didn't. Something about the guy just seemed...off, and my days of picking random guys at bars are behind me. Really. Not that I won't ever do it again, and perhaps I would have if I was 100% sure he was a 'mo, but I really don't think he was.

Fucking random!

Monday, November 10, 2008

HAPPY MONDAY!

It's no secret that people HATE Mondays. Of course, since I don't currently have a job, everyday is pretty much the same. Kind of like that movie "Groundhog Day". So this post is dedicated to you hard working, industrious people out there.

I know video posts are lazy and only take about 30 seconds to put together, but this one is seriously worth 8 minutes of your life. "But Justin, this is probably just some lame ass music video!" Right, well, this should be an easy sell. I even made a handy equation:

HAWT Rugby Players + Copious Amounts of Alcohol = Guys getting naked/Kissing each together (with tongue)/Nipple Biting/Simulated Fellatio/Mutual masturbation. IN A BAR!

Although it's not a porno (seriously, it's a documentary) it's REALLY NSFW! Enjoy!


Monday, October 20, 2008

EEEEK! I FOUND A NEST!

So, this afternoon, feeling hungry, I decided to brave the rain and walk down to a little hot dog stand on the corner a few blocks away. Since said hot dog stand has room for about 8 or so people to stand in while they order/wait for their food, I had to wait out in the rain. No big deal. And then...

...two HOT Mormon missionaries show up. I shit you not! One was about 5'8, blonde, kinda cute in that boring "boy next store" kind of way. But his buddy, well, he looked like Steve Sandvoss:

Obviously, he wasn't nearly this hot. But he was 6'3, athletic looking and (wait for it) dripping wet. He even had the rosy cheeks. Whew! I almost converted right then and there!

But it gets better! 2 more showed up, then 2 more, and then, and I really SHIT YOU NOT 2 more show up! Suddenly, it's me, my buddy C.W., 2 Latinas, some Cable TV dude and 7 Mormon Missionaries [note: due to space constraints the 8th one had to wait on the sidewalk in the rain]. He was shortish, dark hair/features and UGH so fucking hot.

Somehow I managed not to hyperventilate, which was accomplished by staring at my shoes and thinking of Barbara Bush on a slip n' slide. Thankfully my greasy food was ready and I got the hell out of there. After leaving my buddy C.W. turns to me and says "what the fuck was with all the Mormons?"

"I don't know...I don't know" said I while reaching for a cigarette.

THE END

Saturday, July 26, 2008

JEFF SAMARDZIJA, YOU DESERVE A BLOWJOB

Ever since the Cubs signed Jeff Samardzija last year, I've been waiting for him to be called up the majors. This desire was not motivated by his athletic ability, but instead because he is fucking H-A-W-T!

Case in point, I have little to no interest in college football, but when a Notre Game came on TV, you can bet your ass that I would find the time to gaze longingly at the television, my mind full of scenarios involving Jeff and myself (and sometimes Tom Zbikowski, just to mix things up) all of which are best left unsaid.

Well, thanks to Kerry Wood being put on the disabled list (for the 12th fucking time) my boy Jeff got called up, and he pitched in his first major league game yesterday. Although he did give up the game tying run, he settled down, and his fastball was clocked just shy of 100MPH.

Alas, his time with us shall be brief, but for now, I'm enjoying the eye candy.






Stud that he is, Jeff was projected to be picked in the 1st round of the NFL draft last year, but then the Cubs gave him $10 million.

Sunday, May 25, 2008

MY SLUTTY NIGHT WITH A ROWER

This post is dedicated to the anonymous reader who left this comment: "Seems like every other post is about booze, pot, or music. Where is the sex?"

While I have made the conscious decision to not blog about my more recent sexual exploits, I will share particular experience that occurred last July. Previously, I posted a brief summary of the hot shit that transpired, but since it seems that all I post about are boring things, let's take a deeper look back at the Hottest Night of My Life.

If graphic depictions of guys having crazy sex bothers you, this would be a good time to hit the refresh button on your browser.

It was a hot, humid night last July, and although the beer in my hand was cold, watching the Cubs game while laying on my leather couch in an un-air-conditioned apartment was less than satisfying. Thus, I opted to watch the rest of the game at Crew.

Seeing as this was a night game on a Thursday Night my plan was to have a few pints and go home early. However, my eye was drawn to a tall, good looking frat boy type. Since I wasn't "looking" I remained perched on my bar stool and sipped beer while cheering on the Cubs.

After about 30 minutes, the hot frat boy guy hovered near me and tapped me on the shoulder and asked "hey man, do you shoot pool?". Why yes, yes I do. We introduced ourselves to one another and he got $5 worth of quarters. At this point I'm thinking "holy shit this is awesome, this guy is hot as fuck but this is probably just a friendly thing.

And it was. Half way into our first game he asks me if I'm single and I say am but when I pose the same question to him, he responds that he "kind of" has a boyfriend.

Upon further questioning he reveals that his "kind of" boyfriend is his Crew coach that he fucks from time to time. he wants more of a commitment than his coach/fuck-buddy/BF is willing to offer, and all of a sudden I thought that I was transported into some sort of bad plot line to a gay porno.

Crew guy proceeds to ask me why I'm single. He tells me that a good looking guy such as my self [blushing at this point] should not be alone and that any number of guys would consider themselves lucky to be with me.

Seeing as he was drunk I shook this praise off as him humoring me. But then he announces that he is going to find me a guy to go home with, that very night.

"Let's ditch this place and hit up Boystown" he says, and we do, eventually arriving at good ol' Sidetrack. But since it was close to 1AM on a weeknight, the place is fairly dead.

He encourages me to approach several guys, and though I do, I find none appealing. At one point I remarked, "why would I want to talk to these other guys, I'm already talking to the hottest guy in the room".

He smiles, we finish our drinks and leave. He gives me vague directions to his friend's place but we can't find it, and agree to go back to my place.

Within seconds of entering my apartment he grabs me by the back of my neck and we start making out. I lead him towards my bedroom while taking his jeans off, and responds in kind. Tongues everywhere on each others body and soon we're both naked and sweaty due to the lack of A/C and sheer lust.

"Get 2 ties and a t-shirt" he says. "For what?" I ask but do it anyway. He uses my old Brooks Brothers tie to tie my wrists together behind my head, another shitty tie from Target to tie my ankles together and then blindfolds me with the t-shirt. He then goes down on me and gets me close, but then backs off and says "OK - nice to meet you, I'm taking your keys, wallet and cell phone, good luck getting un-tied".

For a moment I panicked, trying to get loose from the tight knots he tied, but I can also still sense that he is still in the room and watching me squirm. After about 30 seconds I decide to lay still and he busts out laughing saying "got you!" and un-ties me and removes the blindfold.

We make out a little bit but in the process I grab a tie and get his hands together behind he head, turn him over and fuck him for at least 30 minutes in an assortment of positions, eventually firing my cum all over his hot body.

Both of us spent, breathing deeply and covered in sweat he goes "I want to show you something". Still in a daze i ask what and he responds that he really, REALLY wants to show me his Crew Uni. I'm again thinking this is something out of a porno, and decline, seeing as it's 3AM and I have go to work in the morning, but he refuses to take no for an answer.

Exhausted, but curious I drive us over to his place, letting him smoke in my car on the way (I don't smoke in my car, but seeing as I just fucked him, I didn't car). We arrive and gets out of my car and says he'll be right back. 10 minutes later he's back in my passenger seat, dressed just as he was before.

Then he unzips his tight jeans, and takes my hand, placing it on his now Lycra encased thigh. "Feels good, right?" is perhaps among the most redundant questions I've ever been asked.

He then removes this jeans, we make out and then he abruptly stops, opens the car door and gets in the back seat of my car. Keep in mind that I drive a small Japanese hatchback.

I'm thinking this is not practical, but then I'm also glad I brought a pocketful of condoms with me. We begin to awkwardly fuck in my backseat but it was then getting light out and doing what we were doing, parked on a residential street was not a smart move.

"I have an idea, follow me" and I do while pulling my pants on and crawling out of my car. We go into his apartment building, but not to his place proper. He has roommates, he says, so we enter the basement which is under construction with exposed framed walls and sawdust everywhere.

Improvising with my dick in my hand, I bend him over a saw-horse and we go at it again. I have to cover his mouth with my hand because of the voices he was making, but 15 minutes or so later, I cum again, big time, all over the place, as does he.

We practically on one another at that point but say nothing but breath heavily on each other's necks. It's now 6AM and we both have to work in just a few hours, so we reluctantly get dressed, exchange numbers and depart.

The drive home was bizarre to say the least. Here I am stuck in early morning rush hour looking every inch of a whore, bumping Mos Def and smoking with all my windows down. I didn't get much sleep night/day, probably less than an hour, but I still got to work on-time, and damn if I didn't have a stupid grin on my face the whole day.

I still have his underwear...

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

THINGS TO DO IN DENVER WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK

Since I got back from Denver, I've been asked the same question several times, "did you go skiing?" or "how was the snow?" Frankly, I wouldn't know. The weekend was spent drinking heavily in many of the bars that Denver has to offer.

Now, that may sound like a wasted trip, but seeing as the purpose of the trip was to hang out with my bestest high school friend, I must declare "mission accomplished".

My friend Gloria picked me up from the airport and said "let's do some damage to our livers this weekend!" You see, she had a kid about 2 1/2 years ago (awesome kid, BTW), and since she's married (awesome husband too) she doesn't get out like she used to. Me being in town for the weekend was an excuse to party, and party we did...

We had lunch and made a bee line for the liquor store, and within 2 hours of being on the ground I had already consumed 2 stiff Rum and Cokes. The afternoon was spent drinking on the porch, looking at the tip-top of the Front Range and basking in what felt to me like Spring (it was sunny and probably in the mid-40's). Awesome.

We had been tossing ideas around on how best to spend Friday night. Gay bars were an obvious option, but my friend really wanted to see a rapper named "Brother Ali". Upon learning that this guy was an albino, Muslim from Minneapolis, I was sold. Who could pass that up? And we continue drinking...

....which necessitated a stop at the corner 7-11 for a fountain drink (to mix the rum with). What's the point of public transport if you don't have a cocktail in your hand, right? Right! The Light Rail Line dropped us off in the middle of Downtown, and we rode a cab all the way over to the Bluebird Theater. Just before we got dropped off, Gloria says to me "I hope the show doesn't sell out".

When we exit the cab several hippie dudes ask us "heeeeeeey guuuuuuys, got annnnnny extras?" DOH! We retreated to the bar across the street to regroup (also, we wanted to continue drinking). Plan B was set into effect; with the aid of my iPhone we plotted out all the gay bars in the vicinity. Several beers a a few shots later, we were off...

...to a bar called Charlie's. Upon entering, I immediately knew we had made a mistake. The place was dead. You ever see 3 people on a dance floor, and none of them are dancing with or near one another? Yeah, it was like that. However, Gloria needed to use the little girl's room, so I ordered us a pair of Heineken's. Then I started talking to a kinda hot guy about "THE" place to be on a Friday Night...

...which brings us to The Compound. This place was bumpin'! Boys, boys and more boys were awaiting us behind the ominous looking exterior. In one room there was a very busy bar, and yet somehow it was never a problem getting drinks. We roamed about and into the other room, which was a large dance floor. Now, usually DJ's at gay bars play shit that makes my ears bleed, but this place was spinning some good shit...

Around this time I openly asked "why am I so fucking drunk?" which was answered by Gloria "it's the altitude Dip-Shit". Oh, right, the thin air! Dang! Oh well, while Gloria was cutting up a rug with some homos (except for the one she gave her number to, which, as it turns out was NOT a homo) I wandered around talking to people, totally shit faced.

When I went to get another drink I opened my wallet but only found 3 dollars staring back at me. "It's a cash only bar back here" said the bartender. Fuck! So I went and found the ATM, intending to only take out $20, but I hit the wrong button and wound up with $80. Double-fuck. I got my drink and joined Gloria, as well as some boys on the dance floor. Good, blurry times were had.

Eventually, we decided to seek out another fine establishment. Someone suggested a neighborhood/gay/dive bar called (creatively) Boyz Town. From the outside it looked like a quiet, chill bar that would afford us a brief respite from the prior venue. That was not the case. Upon opening the door and walking in we saw...

STRIPPERS! Gloria and I turned to each other and exclaimed "AWESOME!". See, we always "joke" about going to Titty Bars, but this was WAY better. As she put it "this is the ultimate Win-Win situation". Indeed.

These boys were fuckin' H-A-W-T, and although most of them were probably straight, that did little to nothing to dampen my enthusiasm. Somehow, I got a second wind. Hot, nearly naked boys apparently have that effect on me.

Saturday was spent hung-the-fuck-over and sleeping and reading. Also, I became "Uncle Justin" and looked after Gloria's son. This kid is beyond awesome. We played catch, I pushed him around in his little wagon thing and such. I might never be a Father, but I'll always be a damn good Uncle!

Saturday Night...we went to a place called Cervantes Masterpiece Ballroom, which is a total hippie joint, and quite a fun one at that. There were 2 rooms, the main one (below) and another side room.

The main act was a band called The Motet, and in the other room there some "hippie techno" by a group called EOTO going on. That might sound terrible, but in reality it was fucking off-da-hook.

There is something about gay bars and hippie bars that make drinks really, really strong and soon enough I was feeling really good once again...which was around the time I ran into Pete. This is an old friend from high school that I always run into when in Denver, and always when I'm fucked up.

This was no exception, and at first I was confused why this hot guy (he looks kinda like Owen Wilson but without the jacked nose) knew my name, but after a few seconds I exclaimed "PETE!". He bought us some shots and we caught up before he disappeared into the crowd, probably to chase after some cute hippie girls.

Which brings me to another observation; Denver is FULL of beautiful people. When you think "hippie" you might think of hairy people wearing ill fitted clothing. Not the case. There were smokin' hot guys and very pretty woman everyone one looked.

Gloria, her friends and I had a blast that night. The next morning I was afraid to look at the receipt from my bar tab...but it was only $5. Not sure that happened, but I'm not complaining (I'm told this place is notorious for forgetting to put drinks on your tab). Also, somehow I got blue paint on my coat. Hmmmm...

Needless to say, I had a blast in the Mile High City. It was great to hang with an old friend and also some new ones...thanks Denver!

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

THE PERFECT ASS FROM HELL(S) KITCHEN

Rather than post one humongous post about the trip to NYC I thought I would break it up into smaller, more digestible chunks (some hiatus - two posts tonight!). Let's start at the end, shall we? We shall...

After having a lovely dinner last night with my Father in a lovely Italian bistro on the Upper East Side (a random "celebrity" sighting occurred, more on that later) I made plans to meet up with K after he got off work.

The P.O.A. (Plan of Action) was to get "a drink". One drink turned into me dropping over $100 on booze Sunday night, but I digress...

K met me at my "posh" hotel (his words, not mine, haha) on 49th and Lexington (no, I did not stay at the Waldorf, but close enough) and we braved the rain to march across to the West Side to JP's favorite haunt, Vlada.

The place was relatively quiet and we got to have a nice quiet convo, which was nearly impossible with the Madness that was Friday Night.

We sipped on overpriced cocktails and discussed all sorts of things that gay men tend to converse about...however our discourse quickly devolved into gay male bitch-ness with the arrival of the Perfect Ass.

Now, most bars in NYC are exceedingly narrow; those that have some sort of table/chair setup forgo traditional bar stools to make this physically possible. Those that prefer to belly up to the bar do so standing on their feet.

Midway into our second round of drinks, in walks this adorable/hot-as-hell guy with dark hair and an ass to die for.

Usually, I would have looked, played out some dirty scenario in my mind and said to whoever is near me "holyfuckingshitlookatthatass" and left it at that. If only it was that simple...

K and I literally had our backs to the wall and had no choice (well, we could have shifted to the little cube seat things) but to drink in the sight of this man's ass.

A few weeks back I blogged about the how I may have seen the "Perfect Ass". Had that guy I saw on my lunch break had an "Ass Off" with this guy, he would have lost, and been sent home ashamed.

It's safe to say we were content to view this particular specimen from not-sofar, however the arrival of his companion caused our latent Bitch to go into overdrive.

PA's
"friend" was not nearly as attractive as he was, and frankly, it pissed us the fuck off. With each succeeding cocktail we became more adamant in our believe in the inherit unfairness that is the world we live in.

At one point PA ventured out for a smoke, and Guy That Didn't Deserve That Ass split for the pisser. I made a mad dash for my coat so I could grab my smokes in the hope of striking up a random convo with PA.

Once out there, I tried to make eye contact with him and perhaps talk about the weather (or invite him back to my posh hotel room for biblical session of sweaty boy love, yeah right!).

But a funny thing happened...I realized I had a cute guy that I like back home, and I made a resolution to keep it in my pants this weekend.

The sudden arrival of Guy That Didn't Deserve That Ass, who leveled a cold, icy stare at me caused me to stub out my smoke and return to K, and my drink inside.

Once they returned to their perch at the bar (no less than 6 feet from our eyes) he began a campaign of flexing his "asset" in a series of poses as if to mock us; as if to say "you know you want this ass, but this lame, weird dude already got it, bitches".

After another 20-30 minutes we could no longer take it and we decided to move onto greener/gayer pastures.

However, perhaps just to spite us further, both of these guys got up to leave just when we did, and the four of us simultaneously fumbled about, donning our coats/hats/scarves. K remarked how these two guys seem to linger near us for just a few moments too long.

Perhaps it was the vodka...but something else seemed to be at play just below the surface. And the sight of this object hovering above the entrance to the bar did nothing to ally my assumptions, however unfounded they may have been, (in case you cannot make out the neon, it reads "Sin Will Find You Out").

[CODA: Soon after arriving in NYC Billy took me to Vlada and I was struck by this sign, not only because of the obvious/ominous implications of the message, but also because I knew that I had seen image somewhere before. Soon after parting with the weird scene that was Perfect Ass and Guy That Didn't Deserve That Ass, I realized that I had seen this image hundreds of times before because it used to be on the opening credits on early 90's SNL. Go figure!]

Monday, November 19, 2007

COME UNDONE

From time to time the Roomie will poke fun at me for watching various French films of the "gay" persuasion. I would protest and claim that I was watching these films for their artistic merits, which is partially true. I enjoy watching foreign film because it allows me a window into another culture, another perspective on the world.

As a former student of film I can critique the editing, writing, cinematography, etc, with at least a modicum of technical prowess. That being said there is just something about watching tan, handsome, French male youths frolicking on the Mediterranean coast in various states of undress (to say nothing of one particular hard core gay sex scene). Hot!

OK, French guys making out, obviously hot. But I get something else out of watching films like "Come Undone". During my formative years when I came of age sexually, I was trapped in the proverbial closet and thus had little to no access or examples of what a gay relationship was like or about.

Of course, living life vicariously through films, even sexy French ones, is a poor excuse for the real thing. That being said, the film below more than held my attention. The third act meanders and makes little to no sense, but then a lot of relationships seem like that (at least the few romantic ones I have lived through) so it rings somewhat "true".

Bottom line, this is a great film, and Jérémie Elkaïm is such a hottie. Think back to the rush you felt during your first crazy bat-shit insane romantic experience. The anticipation, the giddy excitement, the sex, the joy, the sad aftermath, etc. This film is somewhat like that, only with better looking people (myself included) in a more exotic locale (ditto).

Enjoy!


Sunday, November 4, 2007

BULLRIDERS ARE HOT

Soon after moving in with the Roomie to our current place I was sitting on the couch and watching TV when I came across a televised PBR event. Needless to say, I quickly realized the futility of denying the sheer, utter hotness of the men riding those bulls.

Everyone has their own taste in men (well, those that are attracted to men that is) and I know a lot of gay men that melt when confronted with an image of Jake Gyllenhaal (I do too, especially when watching Jarhead) or whatever model is hot these days. Me, I like boys that are rough and rugged, usually jocks of some sort, but in particular, I lust after men that climb atop 2,000 bulls and attempt to ride them for 8 seconds.

Even when they fail, they look amazingly hot! Here is a random sampling of guys that inhabit my fantasy "stable" of hot Bull Riders:

J.B. Mauney



Honestly, I wasn't even aware of the hotness that is J.B. until this afternoon while watching the PBR Finals. He's young, only 20, but damn if this guy from North Carolina doesn't put my libido into overdrive. I almost feel wrong being so attracted to him, but, well, I am. Such a stud!

Mike Lee



Mike Lee won back to back championships in 2004 and 2005, and not just because he is so fine. He is an accomplished bull rider who came back from a near fatal accident in 2002 in which a bull's horn split his head open. Not cool. However, he rebounded and rose to the top ranks of pro riders. Another fact: I have a framed autograph/photo of him in which he wrote: "Justin, Jesus loves you, Mike Lee". I love his smile!

Robson Palermo

This is another example of why I love watching PBR. Robson was off my radar (hey, I haven't had cable for 6 months now) until this afternoon. He is the gasoline that feeds my fire for Latino men. Those eyes are so hot! Those lips! Those cheekbones...(I'll brb, haha).

Guilherme Marchi

Shirtless. Brazilian. Bull Rider. I want those arms wrapped around me. Something about that belt buckle puts many a dirty thought into my mind...

Justin McBride

Seriously, if the Bull Riding thing doesn't work out, I think he has a future in Hollywood. Lookup "leading man good looks" in the dictionary (probably isn't in there) and there will be a picture of Justin McBride. Or if there isn't, there damn well should be.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

NL CENTRAL CHAMPS

Well, it's official, my dear Cubs have made into the post-season! That's fuckin' right, WE ARE THE NL CENTRAL CHAMPS! This is remarkable in that this is only the 5th time since 1945 that the Cubs have made it this far. The last time they made the playoffs was the ill-fated 2003 season, where the Marlins (with help from Steve Bartman) defeated us. I still remember that night, and how I almost broke my hand when I decided to release my aggression on a metal shelving unit. That was not a good idea.

But this is not 2003, it's 2007 and I've waited 5 looooooooong years for this. And the Cubs may very well implode in the post-season, but as of right now, I am fuckin' EXCITED! And how did I choose to celebrate? I went to the ol' gay sports bar last night, where they had their once a month Jockstrap Competition. Imagine, if you will 6 boys parading their goods on stage, faces obscured by a curtain. And goddamn, these boys were hot!

My favorite was the guy with tattoos on his torso, sporting a black jock. The other boys in the bar seemed to like him just as much, as he won the contest, and $300 to boot. Of course I was supposed to be rooting for a friend of a friend that got drunk enough to get up on stage, and while he did his best, his efforts were thwarted by said hot tattoo guy. Nothing you can do about that I guess...

But what a way to celebrate the Cubs big "W", right? Right! Of course, I could think of another way to celebrate, but that's neither here nor there. And I wouldn't want to construe myself as greedy...the eye candy certainly sufficed. Usually I dislike feeling hungover, but really, I have a valid reason for being so, and I like it. My head might be pounding, but I still have a huge grin on my face.

GO CUBS! IT'S GONNA FUCKIN' HAPPEN!

This as close as I could come to approximating the hotness that won last night. Really, I don't get why some guys don't like tattoos, I find them HOT!

Friday, July 27, 2007

STUPID iPODS

“Fitness Throw-Down” week continues unabated. I went last night again and while watching the Daily Show while on the ‘ol elliptical trainer I noticed a lovely sight out of the corner of my eye, Crush #1! He was jogging (and sexily sweating) on a treadmill to my right. He was wearing a light blue handkerchief around his head (what’s the gay code for that?) and wearing a rather attractive pair of soccer shorts. Needless to say, he looked fuckin’ smokin’ hot…

Regardless, I finished my standard 30 minutes of cardio and went to lift some weights and basically forgot he was even there…until I went to use the water fountain next to the area where people stretch where he was winding down his work out. Bravely, I averted drooling and minded my own business and went to use the ab machines. He was kind of milling around and I would have gone and said something…except he was wearing headphones, rocking out to his iPod.

Someone needs to propose a sociological study of human interactions between people wearing iPods in public. Had he not been wearing headphones and listening to music it would have been no big deal to causally start a conversation with “hows it goin’?” or “how ‘bout those Cubbies?” or “man, you have an amazing ass” (joking) or whatever it is that causal strangers talk about. But since he was wearing headphones I think it would be odd to go up to him and start talking unless there was thing really important to say, like “the gym is on fire!”.

Oh well…

In other gym-related news, I renewed my contract for another year. Originally I signed up at this place because of the discount I received through my employer at the time. However, I left that job over a year and half ago, but since I’m charming (or perhaps I’m delusional and the staff just doesn’t give a shit) I have renewed for a second time with the locked in corporate discount rate, $59/month. Not a bad deal to be able to bask in the presence of all these hotties!

Monday, June 25, 2007

JOHN...



Since my TV is still on the fritz I was unable to watch tonights Cubs victory (4 in a row - hells yeah!). One of the benefits of receiving a plethora of public access TV is seeing random minor league games. While making dinner I came across a Clintion Lumber Kings game.

Upon stumbling on this game 3rd baseman John Whittleman was at bat. He singled...and looked damn good while doing so. This compelled me to Google him, thus the images above. Sigh. John is hitting .318 and knocked in 13 HR's and 47 RBI's thus far. The Texas Rangers are lucky to count him as a prospect.

Damn.

Monday, June 18, 2007

HOT AS HELL

This Hottie was found on a new blog that was tailor made for me, "Hot Jock of the Day". In addition to shirtless gymnasts they have lots of hot pictures of baseball players (also a weakness of mine) not to mention pictures of rodeo cowboys (also a weakness - I'm not joking, those guys are hot as hell).

Speaking of things that are hot as hell, the atmosphere in my apartment could accurately be described as "sweltering". The Roomie's cats look miserable and keep giving me looks like "you with the opposable thumbs, can't you do something about this oppressive heat"? Sorry cats, outside of aiming the fans at you there's not much I can do. And stop fucking shedding!

Yet another thing that could qualify as hot as hell is the text message I just got from the Colombian Architect: "Hello Justin, I hope you had a good day! Have a good night! XOXO". Awww, I think he likes me! In fact, despite it being a Monday, today was a good day. Not sure why as nothing in particular occurred, but my overall mood could be described as "buoyant".

Finally, and this is not what it might sound like, but my butt got a thorough work out last night. After talking about doing so for some time I finally took my Roomie up on her offer (wait for it) to borrow her bike whiles she's gone. It was literally the first time in years that I've rode a bike, and I must say, it was rather pleasant roaming the dark Chicago side streets at night. I intend to do so yet again... just not tonight - it's too fucking hot.

Saturday, June 16, 2007

LET'S MOVE TO MASSACHUSETTS GAEL!

There is no particular reason for posting this picture of Gael Bernal Garcia other than the fact that it's hot as hell in my apartment and I'm anxiously waiting for my laundry to be done so I can get the fuck out this hot box.

In addition to being one of my top 3 favorite actors, Gael is one of a handful of other men (Charlie Hunnam & Matt Dallas to name but 2) that are allowed near my man Grady Sizemore.

Look at his eyes! Excuse me...I need to take a cold shower.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

LAST NIGHT

Last started with the most fucked up cab ride I can ever remember having. M, her girl and their friend Adam came over and we hailed a cab. Adam got in the front seat and began a conversation in Hindi-Urdu (I think), which is odd because he's Puerto Rican but he asked the driver to drop us at the pancake house on the far north side of Boystown to "celebrate my engagement" with M's girl. The cabbie congratulated him and then launched into a tirade about how he "hates the fags". He recounted a story about picking up 2 dudes who made out in the back seat of his cab and how he responded by repeatedly stomping on the brakes to make them stop. Adam kept goading him on and instead of anger my reaction was hysterical laughter. This cabbie was so clueless that he was driving 2 gay dudes and 2 gay girls to Boystown for a night of debauchery. Arriving at our destination we paid him (shit tip btw) and were on our way. The bar we went too was packed but M's girl knew the bartender and we got a few spots at the bar. Scoping out the scene I didn't see anyone in particular that I wanted to talk to...and then this cute guy sat down on the bar stool next to me. Having a bit of liquid courage I started talking to him about the Justin Timberlake playing on the tv's. M kept giving me the thumps up and cute guy and I kept talking and talking. At one point he asked me if I was straight to which I responded by laughing and grabbing his knee. I could have "gone upstairs" but I thought it would be better too be patient.I did give him a good night kiss though. We have plans for Monday. I can't wait!