I'm Going to Need To See More Explicit Photos Before I'm Comfortable Saying That Anderson Cooper's Boyfriend Has Been Caught Cheating

Oh, Coop. See, this is why you should have been sitting on my lap at the gym during those weekend workouts instead of lifting, squatting, sweating, and etcetera, all over the place, with your hot boyfriend Ben Maisani, who has allegedly now been busted with his hands all up in the gay cookie jar by the queerballs over at the Daily Mail, even though these photos look incredibly staged, for whatever reason.

I, for one, refuse to believe that someone could do this to America's Silver Fox. And especially with such a dumb-looking meathead. There's a time and a place for dumb meatheads, and that time and place is not in Central Park, during the daylight, where any idjit with a camera phone can record your love. (The time for dumb meatheads is pretty much any other time besides the time I just mentioned.)

Poor Andy, he's in a tough place. I mean, his boyfriend clearly deserves a spanking, but at the same time, he doesn't deserve one from our Anderson, you know?

In conclusion, Kathy Griffin will step in to beat Ben with a standing rib roast, which Ben will never recover from because it will be televised on the 15th season of My Life on the D List.

Announcing the Arrival of Your New Favorite Band That Has a Viola Player In It

Folks, there are tons of bands out there begging for attention from the unwashed masses of folks who want music for free. And everyone's wondering, "Which one of these bands is the next Lady Gaga?" Well, I'm here to tell you, my band simpleshapes is not the next Lady Gaga, but we are pretty close, and here's why: First, we are attention whores. Second, I was wearing a meat dress when my bandmate Taylor saw me playing viola on the NYC subway. Third, why do you need a third? That's two very good reasons.

Anyway, yeah, simpleshapes is the musical outfit that fits your active lifestyle the best. Five out of seven dermatologists agree. Below is a homemade video of one of our songs, "A Heart." There are also a few more tracks at our Reverb Nation page, because why not? The simpleshapes material is the first three. (The other tracks are Taylor's old stuff that we haven't re-recorded yet.) Enjoy them! Also, please "like" us, "become our fan," and "give us blowjobs." This will help our doomed careers.

Fashion is Important: Men's Summerwear Edition

There's nothing more instructional than a men's summerwear catwalk pose-a-thon. That's why the Men's Fashion Week extravaganza in Milan was the most educational event to take place in the world since Live Aid. It's extremely important for us hot dudes to know what to wear to Brighton Beach, where we go every summer Sunday to do laps in the ice-cold Absolut swimming pool. And I don't know about you guys, but I wouldn't be caught dead NOT wearing the above collection of epileptic and ball-hugging pattern explosions. Why? Because stripes are slimming, especially when they're spastically shooting out in every possible direction: they confuse people into thinking you're thin, hooray!

There's a word for this ensemble, but that word is Russian and I don't know how to type/pronounce it. But it really sums things up quite nicely.

In conclusion, in the future all men will look like they were mauled by a gaggle of bitchy gay zebras.

Raucous Gatherings Dept: Puerto Rican Day, Bushwick

We all know that Puerto Ricans get a kick out of being Puerto Ricans. Who wouldn't? If I looked as good in a pair of saggy jeans as the dude in the above video does (my camera phone couldn't take its eyes off of him), I'd be throwing a parade every day, and I would certainly never wear a shirt.

On Sunday my bandmate Taylor and I were walking a friend to the Knickerbocker JMZ stop in Bushwick and also going to get beer, Joose, Tussin, shower caps, Oreos, poppers, and pills so we could practice properly, and holy moly it was loud outside. Down on Knickerbocker Ave., there were whistles, yelpings, flags, half-nakedness, horn honking, and other things signifying robust revelry. It wasn't really a parade, per se, but folks were sometimes walking in formation down the middle of the street, so maybe that counts?

I was a little disappointed that there were no dudes dancing on floats in their speedos, because isn't that what happens every time a bunch of loud folks gather together somewhere in NYC?



Below is an adorable short film I made called "Maracas," in which a Puerto Rican gentleman faces a difficult choice: continue blissfully playing his maracas or answer his annoying neighbor's persistent questions. Because he can't do both at the same time, much as he'd like to.

This film will win the short-subject documentary prize at next year's Daytime Emmys.

Not a Gay Porno Dept.: Navy Seal Training

All of us U.S. Americans have had hearts aflutter all week thinking about how much we'd like to offer our thanks to the Navy Seals, for being so sexy. "What is their training regimen like?" we haven't been able to stop asking ourselves, while fapping. Well, these photos tell you an awful lot about their training regimen: it's hot; so hot, in fact, that sometimes they just have to lie stretched out on the beach and let the water wash over their musculature, trickling this and that way, alluringly.

But these photos are not stills from a gay porno, so stop thinking that! They're just exercising and preparing to hunt down bad guys, and make those bad guys blow them. Have some respect.

In conclusion, get your hands out of your pants.

NSFW DEPT: If This Isn't the Photograph of the Year My Name is Madonna

(Scroll down for actual photo, which is depraved.)

I think I might be late to this party, because I'm late to most parties (if I'm even invited), but I have just returned from a wildly religious out-of-body experience after seeing this thoroughly random photo for the first time. WHO TOOK IT? (Pedro Almodovar?) I just came across it over at the gay-as-hail L.A. Rag Mag site but there's no information about its origins. Obviously, that's Madonna in her pajamas in the foreground, but what's going on back there, by the pool, hmmm?

Well, supposedly that is the naked version of her ex-lovah Jesus Luz (which translates to "Jesus Light," for the religious among you). You might remember him from this post. It doesn't matter that he doesn't have a head, because who cares about that? The important thing is the rippled, aggressive nakedness and the priceless expression on Our Lady of the Immaculate Money Shot's face. Haven't you always dreamed Madonna would look at you that way while a ferociously attractive naked man with no head hovered mysteriously behind her? Of course you have. You're only human.

In conclusion, this picture almost makes up for her last godawful album cover.

My Camera Phone Will Not Be Denied: Some Gay-Ass Window Display on 9th Avenue

It's Fashion Week again, I guess, or something, because good Lord there were a bunch of tedious people clustering here, there, and everywhere in the West Village last Friday as I rode my bike home. The point is, I'm never invited to the good parties. Because there was something Olympian going on at this boutique on 9th Avenue that I had no idea was happening and that you needed special goggles to truly appreciate. Why was this kept from me? Sure, I mostly shop at H&M, but I have very fashionable taste in abs, and I'm on a few mailing lists.

Anyway, my camera phone was there and decided these dudes needed photographing because they were trying so hard.

No Headline Can Do This Photo Justice

I guess I could have gone with "Sizzling Flamage"? "Loins Aflame"? "Crankin' the Shank"? "Smokin' Hot Young Men in Skirts Just Standing There"? Whatever, anyway, the point is that there is apparently something called the Youth Olympic Games that will take place in Singapore next month, and so the above erotic cosplay was held in Greece to celebrate this thing, with Greek actress Ino Menegaki playing the role of high priestess and some dudes just stone cold feeling that breeze (down there) as she lights the flame at Ancient Olympia, where the Olympics were born in 776 B.C., when dinosaurs ruled the planet.

Important Pornogramercials: The Shake Weight for Men

The other day my good friend Alex wrote to me and told me he couldn't believe that I hadn't blogged about the above ad. After one look at it, I couldn't believe it either. Has there ever been a more erotic commercial in the history of exercise equipment? This is even more hot to the touch than the one for the Ab Rocket. So why haven't I gripped this commercial in my hands and stroked it slowly, assuredly, with both hands?

I don't know! I guess I've been too busy mourning the death of Rue McClanahan? (That's a lie. When Bea Arthur died I was watching a marathon of Abs of Steel for Men on the Gay Fitness Channel THE VERY NEXT DAY.)

All I can say is that I'm glad that now this ad has been blogged. Also: did the folks that designed this device ever stop laughing during every single phase of production? Was it pitched on a dare? And what was the launch party like?

I'll update this post when I have answers to these questions.

This Photographer Should Win a Pulitzer AND an Adult Film Award

Matthias Schrader should immediately be coronated King of Earth for taking this explosively arousing photo of a hot soccer player levitating in front of a sexy Spanish flag featuring a bull with huge balls.

The player's name is Jesus, obviously.

NSFW DEPT: Civilian Conservation Corps vs. Gay Porn Construction Workers--Which is Which?

Folks, this post is NSFW, so please turn your computer screens away from your coworkers and put on your NSFW Patented Viewing Hoodies. Ok, good. Now, in my job as a pole dancer at the United Nations cafeteria, I have a lot of down time to troll the Library of Congress photo archives on the Internet. Well, recently I typed my favorite key words ("hot" "shirtless" "sinewy" "oiled-up" and "dudes") into the search field and the photos I turned up were quite something. They were all pictures of shirtless guys doing outdoorsy-type work for the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s. And they looked like they were having a ball.





As I scrolled through the many images of ripped, supple, boyish hotness I thought to myself, "Hmm, these photos are reminiscent of others I've seen. Other, more explicit yet no less endearing photos. What are those photos I'm thinking of?" Well I finally remembered! The photos I'm thinking of are gay construction worker porn photos, yay!

So I thought of a fun game to play. There are a bunch of CCC photos below. Interspersed with them are some gay construction worker porn photos. Which is which? They're virtually interchangeable! See if you can guess correctly which pictures feature dudes being paid to lay concrete (or whatever) and which pictures feature dudes being paid to lay each other. The winner gets a free pair of overalls.

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Exciting Sightings: Patrick Wilson in Greenpoint

Holy shit, I was WAY too hungover to deal with this properly this morning. I was riding my bike down Driggs on my way to Williamsburg Bridge, my head still throbbing and my eyes still coming uncrusted, and who do I see on the corner of Driggs and Leonard but hunkmonster Patrick Wilson with his son. Apparently his wife is Polish and, because Greenpoint is largely a Polish enclave, they live here so their son can be raised right.

Now, Patrick Wilson came onto my radar about 5 years ago when I saw him naked in a movie. Even better, the movie was Angels in America and he played a tortured gay Mormon who couldn't keep his clothes on, yay! He went on to star a few years later in Little Children, with Kate Winslet, in which he played a stay-at-home daddy who couldn't keep his clothes on, yay!

Anyway, it was kind of a mind-fuck seeing him and his son like that because he looked exactly like his character Brad in Little Children taking his son to the park or the swimming pool. I didn't get a picture of him because I'm shy and it all happened so fast, but if you want an idea of what Patrick Wilson looked like standing on that street, just get the movie Little Children and watch the first scene where he goes to the park with his son. He looked exactly like that!

So I'd like to use this exciting sighting as an opportunity to run some gratuitous photos of smoking hotness. See below. (Cover your children's eyeballs before scrolling down, because of the hotness.)

Ricky Martin is Finally Gay!

At long last, Ricky Martin is gay. I've been waiting for this day to come. It seems like just yesterday that Ricky was straight and singing duets with Madonna on his first American album or teaming up with Christian Aguilera. We all wanted him to be a big ole Mo, but what could we do? He obviously liked the ladies.

I remember buying La Vida Loca at my local Raleigh record store back in the terrible 1990s and staring in the face the judgmental hipster prick who rang me up, giving him a "yes, I am doing this, asshole" expression because, as impeccable as my taste in music usually is, I CAN NOT say no to a hot Puerto Rican guy wearing a tight sweater and singing at me. I just can't. (I also bought his previous album Vuelve, which is just as terrible/awesome, though less loca.)

Now that Ricky Martin is gay, he can do stuff like this



And this


And this


Y esto


freely without having to worry about the townspeople whispering about how gay he seems. Because the townspeople now know. No more whispering!

In conclusion, mor bch pcs, pls, Rck.