Retro Blow 02: Brent Javier.

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My body is still aching from the exercise overload I had last night. After an hour of boxing, I decided to attend a yoga class. I had a difficult time during the session as not only was I spent from my boxing the poses and module used in yoga were new.

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The only reason I was able to suffer through that tasking hour was the pretty instructor who led the class. She effected a strange but comely accent that I couldn't quite place. Everytime she finished her instructions she punctuated them with "ya", which annoyed me at first but grew on me before the class was done. In the middle of the class, I sort of stopped trying to do the difficult poses and contented myself with watching her and admiring her limber body. She was so agile, she impressed me a lot. She is my new crush.

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I debated with myself whether I would approach her after, maybe ask her a dumb question about yoga or ask her out outright. Then I rememebered that I will be picking up Rachel from her work so I better stop the hanky-panky lest I face the latter with guilt in my heart.

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-----oOo-----

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From the gym to the carpark, I saw a big ad in front of a clothing outlet featuring male model Brent Javier.

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Seeing the ad, I was led to ask myself what has become of this guy. Where is he now? A few months ago, I rejoiced upon seeing him guest in a TV variety show. I thought he was already making the big shift from modelling to acting. And then he was abruptly gone from the public eye. What has happened?

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I got these pictures from Frontman magazine, a local gay magazine, in an issue wherein Brent posed last year. The photos are just sexy, sometimes topless, but never fully nude. There wasn't even a shot of him in just his underwear!!!

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I hope that Brent gets to successfully break into showbusiness. I definitely want to see more of him. He is such a nice guy. Well, nice enough to add me to his myspace network, at least. He he. I don't care if he is a good singer, dancer or actor. He is an extremely pretty guy and that is enough for me.

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I took these shots from the magazine using my SE K800i phone. This is the second time that I am blogging via my phone. How cool is that?

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A Glorious Weekend.

This past weekend is perhaps the most entertaining and enjoyable I've ever had this year. I went to a movie and a concert last Friday and Saturday and came out ecstatic from both experiences.

Friday was the first time I went to an IMAX theater. Quincy did not have a game that night and he went to Mall of Asia early to buy the tickets. He heard from his teammates that Beowulf's 3-D rendition was awesome and he wanted to check what the buzz was about. He already saw the film on opening day with his sister and parents, but on 2-D.

It took some persuasion before I gave my nod to Quincy. Seeing Beowulf wasn't in my agenda since I was not impressed with the trailer. Second, reviews of the country's only IMAX theater wasn't encouraging. It was said that the screen was too big, the sound not as good as DTS and that viewing is sometimes nauseous. Quincy had the same comments as he was not satisfied when he previously saw Superman Returns and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix in 3-D. But this time, he assured me, it would be different as the entire film was set in 3-D.

It was really a unique experience watching a movie in 3-D. It is life altering. Or almost, if simply in terms of moviegoing. The images are so near ---almost intimate--- that one could feel the actors moving about in their scenes and also examine the pores on the skin of Angelina Jolie or the facial hair of Ray Winstone.

The movie really isn't much but its 3-D rendition made it more entertaining. The story was well-told, it was a linear narration all told from the point of view of the protagonist, Beowulf, and the dialogue is crisp. The imaging is first-rate that Jolie, Anthony Hopkins and John Malkovich are at once recognizable as the faces behind the CGI.

The following day, Leslie and I went to Ang Ating Musika, this year's concert offering of Regine Velasquez. I got the VIP tickets from a client, a road manager of another artist close to Regine.

At the start of the concert, Regine explained that she put up this particular concert to be able to prove that Filipinos have a treasury of great songs and the criticism that we are mere copycats of Western influences was an unfair asssessment. I would like to say that Regine succeeded in her aim. Rendered in her powerful and pitch-perfect voice, we Filipinos, indeed, have a legacy of songs that we should be proud of.

There are a lot of highlights from the concert. There was the bossanova version of the novelty song Buchikik, the sentimental renderings of Minsan ang Minahal ay Ako (from the musical Katy!) and the soaring interpretation of Ngayon at Kailanman. Regine also paid tribute to the illustrious composers of recent decades and sang medleys of works by Odette Quesada, Willy Cruz, George Canseco and, of course, Ryan Cayabyab. Her guests, such as Kyla and the winners from Pinoy Pop Superstar, showed that they were very much prepared to sing-off opposite Asia's Songbird.

It was a perfect night and a concert without equal. The arrangements by Raul Mitra were very modern, appropriate and provided enough challenge to the vocal powers of Regine. The three gowns worn designed by Pepsi Herrera (who also made two of my own business suits) mirroring each color of the Philippine flag provided both vibrant energy on stage and mobility and comfort for Regine as she sang and danced. Kudos, too for Cacai Velasquez Mitra who designed the enchanted backdrop for Regine and her musicians.

The pleasure and joy I derived from the concert and the IMAX experience far surpasses how I spent the weekend before this.

Two weekends ago, I saw three different films in a string of three nights. First of which was We Own the Night, a reunion of The Yards co-stars Joaquin Phoenix and Mark Wahlberg (SpeciMen 01). I didn't much enjoy the movie, I did not feel like it offered anything new to me as a viewer. Th only positive thing to come out of this project is the fact that once again Eva Mendes (To Bi For 16) proved that she is a serious talent. She was great as Phoenix's very supportive girlfriend.

The following night I joined Rachel (I am trying to patch things up with her) and her friends to see The Nanny Diaries. The comedy has its high points and it is, I guess, fun to watch how nannies and their employers disparage each other. But when you've seen The Devil Wears Prada it is hard to appreciate Nanny. Again, as with her performance in Lost in Translation, I felt shortchanged by the acting of Scarlett Johannson.

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Only two things saved the film from total irrelevance. First is the performance by Laura Linney as the Manhattan mom who hires Johannson to look over her child and read him bedtime stories (in French!). She gives Bree van Decamp (of Desperate Housewives, ably portrayed by Marcia Cross) a scare. Second is the casting of Chris Evans (SpeciMen 01, Must Blow 38) as Harvard Hottie. Evans as Harvad Hottie is cute, credible and self-explanatory.

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And then Sunday I was with Quincy again and we saw Superbad. I was disappointed with the movie. It was not as hilarious and irreverent as I expected it to be. All the funny and good stuff were already shown in the movie's trailer.

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Poor Daniel.

Just finished reading the August 2007 issue of Details. I bought it Saturday evening and by Sunday morning I was done with my copy. There wasn't anything significant to read and I felt like I wasted my money. I take consolation in the fact that I bought it on sale, for almost a third of its original cost when it came out a few months ago.

Harry Potter boy and also Equus breakout actor Daniel Radcliffe is on the cover of the magazine. A brief profile accompanies the photo portfolio inside.

Upon seeing the photos of Radcliffe in this issue, I could not help but pity him. Poor Daniel was made to look like an early 1980s pornstar with the scrfuffy moustache he was made to sport and the soft leather vest revealing his thin chest hair. Somehow, it looked like Radcliffe --who made his name as the adorable young wizard--- was being peddled to leather daddies.

And the article was nothing better. It was supposed to profile Radcliffe's transition from boy wizard to serious actor. Radcliffe had just finished his stint in London theater with Equus (wherein his nude scene made quite a splash) and was releasing the drama December Boys.

Instead, what is obvious from the article was how the writer struggled with the fact that Radcliffe is all grown up and is able to wield himself into a respectable performer. The writer was so caught up with his own fantasies and conventions that he either failed to ask the right questions or hear the actor's answers that he came out empty after the interview. This is unfortunate considering that Radcliffe appeared to have opened up himself fully for the interview and was ready to answer any question, even the statistics of his sex organ. [I saw Radcliffe in Ellen a few months back and he was very game to respond to questions about his nudity in Equus].

The failure of this interview is not the sole responsibility of the feature writer. Most of the blame belongs to Details. Since the early part of the year, it is obvious that Details is no longer the magazine that it was. Meaning, that from a men's fashion and style guide, it is now a gay magazine without fashion or style. The problem here is that while the metamorphosis is obvious on the articles, regular sections (Gay or Dictator, anyone?) and images (including the influx of product ads with gay slant), Details has not been upfront and open about it. The magazine is yet to come out from its quivering closet.

The magazine's decision to remain in the closet is unfortunate for all concerned ---the readers, the writers, the artists featured and its advertisers. Unless Details admits that it is now a gay magazine, more similar unfortunate incidents of actors being misled and misinterpreted.

For now, if Details is not yet ready to come out, at least it should muster enough courage to extend Radcliffe an apology.

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Must Blow 45: Mark Herras.

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There are a lot of young actors in the business right now. I don't know how many they are but I'm pretty sure that there are more of them than we need. Or care for.

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Everytime I channel surf I find a lot of new faces on local TV. This is especially true when it comes to variety shows. You'll see about five or six faces in front of the camera, all holding their own microphones, there to introduce one or two artists who will either sing or dance. Do you really need five people to do the segway? No, not really. But I bet the director or producer had to find something for these guys to do.

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Aside from there being a lot of young actors, the only other true thing about it is that most of them don't (or can't) stay long enough to make a name for himself. No movie, TV show or album. No distincitive contribution to the arts or industry. Not even a personality.

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One of the guys I've seen able to survive that sad cycle is Mark Herras. Yep, I am not a regular TV viewer but I know this guy by face and name. I can pick him out from a roster of ten or so guys on the screen. He is the guy with bushy eyebrows, the ready smile, and the natural groove. Oh, and he is also the guy who has been linked to about a dozen young actresses in the past two years.

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Mark started his career nearly five years ago by winning a local TV talent search. His competitive edge wasn't simply his good looks but his natural talent for dancing. He is a really great dancer. He is very graceful and lively. Whenever I get to watch him dance, I know he was doing something that he enjoys doing.
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He has appeared in a handful of roles on TV. He was once part of a very successful loveteam with Jennylyn Mercado. Unfortunately, when their real life romance came to end, the two couldn't work together anymore and so the pairing was disbanded. After that, he ventured into playing a superhero but is now back to playing leading man, this time with the very lovely Rhianne Ramos (I hope I spelled her name correctly).
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I think the secret behind Mark's staying power is that he is a very confident person and that, in spite of all his success, he remains level-headed. Mark knows his limitations as an entertainer. He is a great dancer and so when he appears in shows or tours, that is how he performs for the audience. He doesn't force himself to sing when he knows that the result would be disastrous. And his acting ability is very limited so Mark doesn't really do a lot of crying and drama, even in the soaps he appears in. He is just the cute guy lurking in the TV screen for young girls to ogle.

Is there any chance that we will see a Mark Herras, sexy actor in the near future? Not likely. Though he has done a sexy photoshoot for a small magazine and appeared shirtless in the local Cosmopolitan, I think he can't swing it at the moment. First, because he doesn't have the body for it. He is too slim, almost bony. And second, he looks much like a boy next door.

So for now I just have to make do with making my fantasies roll whenever I watch Mark strutting, swaying and swinging.

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Saturday Makeover, Part I.

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Since Tuesday of this week, I have been slowly giving my blogpage some makeover. Blogspot has greatly improved its menu of features for its member-users. Now, bloggers can improve their blogs by adding some colorful items on the margins such as photos, videos, lists, surveys, slideshows and the like. Photos can also be used as background on the title bar.

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I am half done with the improvements. First, I added a new regular portion called Hotshot. This section will feature a favorite photo that I download from the web or take through my digital cameras. I was inspired by the above picture of this really sexy young hunk in white briefs. One of the sexiest guys and pictures I have seen in quite a while. Sad that the site from which I grabbed the photo did not give his name. I also made a bit of antedating by featuring an October Hotshot, which is a photo of model Chad White in light green underwear. I have an briefs just like that, although of a different brand.

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There is now also a hall of fame of sorts in this blog. I have posted on the right margin photos of 2007 Woman of the Year Rachel Bilson and reigning Man of the Year Julian Fantechi. I may change the photos now and then but these two will now have a permanent place on my homepage.

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I have also decided to post a picture of a past Must Blow nominee. I called this semi-new portion Random Blow. Now the past honorees can re-featured through this portion and Retro Blow, which I inaugurated a few months back. For its first edition, I chose video jockey Alvin Alfonso.

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A track of what I do for pleasure are also available through the new features Now Reading (for books) Also Reading (for magazines) and Just Seen (for movies or DVDs). These will be updated whenever necessary. The entries are Jonathan Harr's The Lost Painting (book), the June 2007 issue of Out (magazine) and Superbad (movie).

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To Bi For 25: Winona Ryder.

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For the second straight time, I am featuring in this regular portion of my confession a woman I admired in my teenage years. Just previously, I wrote about my pubescent adoration for Jennifer Love Hewitt (To Bi For 24) of Party of Five (then) and Ghost Whisperer (now). Today it's time for another 1990s babe who made me go to the movies all too frequently in my high school years.

Winona Ryder is perhaps the biggest young female star of the 1990s. At the young age of 19, she captured the heart of Johnny Depp's outcast character in Edward Scissorhands and the eyes of movie moguls and the viewing public. She showed such sweet innocence in the movie that every man and boy who saw her as Kim was quickly reminded of that sweet young girl he grew up in his childhood neighborhood, the first (and last) girl he held hands with and kissed innocently. Sadly, also, the same girl he had to leave behind as adolescence beckoned.

I know I've said "sweet" twice before but pardon me if I have to say it again. But nothing characterizes Winona and why love her on the screen than the sweetness that her presence brings. With her in the cast, she makes a movie jollier. With her on the scene, she makes each confrontation lighter. She is the sugar that makes such bitter dramas as Mermaids and The House of Spirits easier to swallow.

Though I found Winona beautiful in Scissorhands, my nubile crush did not hatch until two or three films after. I was so engrossed by the world that Tim Burton created and the mechanical yet deeply emotional performance of Depp that I could hardly notice any crush or longing stir. Those two hours weren't about Winona, they were entirely devoted to appreciating the film as it is.

But in Dracula and The Age of Innocence, especially in the latter wherein she appeared in more than half the scenes, my growing crush on her could no longer be denied. She was, in fact, the only reason why I tolerated the excesses of Martin Scorsese in Innocence and the flawed adaptation of Francis Ford Coppola of Bram Stoker's most popular work. Such that, later on, even when the reviews were not that favorable, I still went to see and spent my scant savings on Reality Bites, Little Women and How to Make an American Quilt.

More than just eye candy and tempting every eager young man to go to the movies, Winona proved that she is a serious actress and that what she does onscreen is, indeed, acting. She already has two Oscar nominations in her name for Innocence (Best Supporting Actress, 1994) and Little Women (Best Actress, 1995). Having her performance in Innocence recognized by both the critics and her peers was not an easy achievement as she had rise above the performances of her co-stars Daniel Day Lewis and Michelle Pfeiffer.

Bright as her star may have been in the previous decade, her star power waned when she got involved in a shoplifting incident in a major retail shop. Movie offers soon dwindled, which was understandable. It was quite difficult to see Winona onscreen without recalling to mind the scandal. Her involvement in any project would have only undermined its significance.

But I believe that there will be a second coming for Winona. In two or three years time, she will resume her place as a fixture in Hollywood. Showbusiness may not be forgetful, but it is forgiving. Any artist worth her salt is always given a second chance at stardom. This early, Winona is already in production for four films set to be released in 2008 and 2009. She has also finished The Last Word, which will be shown next year. See?

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Guilty Pleasure: CK Underwear Ads.

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This is something I am quite sure I share with at least a hundred million other people ---be they male or female, gay, straight or bisexual. And I'm sure the inclination or predisposition started as early as 1992 or 1993, when Marky Mark's first billboards were put up in Times Square and Beverly Hills and the ads first printed in glossy magazines.

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Who knew that selling men's underwear could be a billion-dollar industry? We did. Yes, but only after Calvin Klein thought of it first and flaunted his idea to all of us. How did he do it? He collaborated with a very intelligent fashion photographer (Herb Ritts) and contracted the music industry's hottest body (the rapper then known as Marky Mark). He put these two guys in the same room together, ordered the latter to strip all his clothes, wear only the underwear Klein made, and then pose and smile and the former to shoot all the photos he could during the session. The result was a marketing breakthrough; one that other labels would soon emulate. And of course, billions of dollars in a new sub-industry.

Before that, underwear as fashion was the exclusive domain of women's lingerie. It was a market cornered by Victoria's Secret and Triumph. It was unimaginable in mainstream industry and mainstream media to depict men in such objectified state. If men were at all photographed to advertise briefs and boxers, the full body or the face of the guy was cut off from the picture. It is just the waist down to the knees. If the male model was at all shown, he appears statuesque ---devoid of life, joy, desire and sexuality.

Klein, Ritts and Marky Mark changed all that. Marky Mark smiled and smirked and grabbed his crotch in the pictorial. He flexed his muscles and pulled down the waistband. Marky Mark ruffled his hair and chinked his eyes. He showed life and he showed that it was okay. After that, we looked and we liked it and we bought the underwear.

The Marky Mark CK campaign has become a template for male underwear advertising and not just for Calvin Klein but for all other brands as well. Aussiebum, 2xist, Dolce and Gabbana and A/X have all adhered to the template and there are a lot others which are doing so.

Nearly 20 years after, CK is still the leader in the industry. It is still the standard by which all other underwear lines are judged. It sets the tone and the fashion.

For male models, there is nothing like appearing in a CK underwear ad. It brings instant fame and recognition. One is certain to be placed in the subconcious of the consumers and the public at large.

All of the CK models have made names for themselves. Or put differently, appearing in a CK ad has added shine to their stars. Marky Mark, of course, became the Oscar-nominated actor Mark Wahlberg. Antonio Sabato, Jr. remains one of the most in-demand leading men in American TV soaps. Michael Bergin jumped from the ramp to Baywatch and back. Travis Fimmel won the role to reprise Tarzan and to address the demand of more images of him in thongs. Freddie Ljungberg is the only recognizable soccer star outside of David Beckham. And it is not for his game that he is known to Americans.

Looking at a CK ad isn't the same as looking at porn or soft-porn. Sure, the men are also naked and objectified. But behold the image and the emotion that are conveyed in each of them. If Marky Mark showed zest and sensitivity in his campaign, Fimmel evoked innocence and vulnerability. Sabato was glamour and Ljungberg brute force. Each ad is a work of art that may be admired beyond the commercial value that they (principally aim to) project. And that is where the success of the marketing and the product lies. And that why CK is still on top.

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Pimped.
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Woke up early today with a hangover. I accompanied Quincy to a party last night and I think I had quite a lot of Bailey's and Cuervo than I should drink on a Monday evening. Normally, I would not go to a function ---nor get drunk in it--- on a workday but Quincy insisted. It was a quasi-bachelor's party that he and his friends threw for a high school classmate who is getting married this December. The wedding is in Chicago and the groom is leaving tomorrow afternoon, Wednesday. Apparently, the group couldn't get together complete last Saturday or Sunday so the first working day of the week was their last and only chance.

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I have met this bunch of Quincy's friends before. We've played basketball twice and Quincy, who plays professional basketball, is usually the brunt of the other team's defense. Q practically begged me to go. It was an "open" bachelor's party, which meant that the guys could bring dates. So why me? Is he coming out to his friends? Of course not. Q isn't seeing any girl right now and he just didn't want to go there alone. He said that we could just tell his friends that we were somewhere else before the party and he purely at the spur of the moment asked me to join him. That excuse could work.

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Quincy extended me the invitation last Friday, before we went to see We Own the Night. I tried to beg off. I told him that I had to wake up really early on Tuesday since my car had to be off the streets before 7 am due to the color-coding scheme. Evidently, I can't afford to be up all night even if I don't consume alcohol during the party. He offered that I could sleep at his condo after the party so I can save a few minutes from my travel time. Since my most plausible excuse was easily brought down, I had no other means by which to defend myself. I relented.

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The party was held at the function room of a condominium building wherein Dato, one of Q's friends, was renting. And characteristically, since straight males organized the event, food was bad and sparing, and booze was the only thing that came in excess. Oh, and cleavage, too. There were nine of them in the barkada. Two brought their girlfriends, two were with girls they are currently dating, one left his wife at home, one came alone and the last guy brought a male roommate (?). And then there are Quincy and the groom. The two "dating girls" were just as badly and sparingly dressed as the food in the event. They showed too much cleavage that the groom might have thought of them as the strippers in his party.
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We left the gathering a little before 2 a.m. Q, who had only a bottle of beer and a glass of wine drove us (to his) home. Q was a little pissed during the party that some of his friends would keep on asking about his ex, Charina. They broke up November of last year (I do not know when exactly). I pretended to have known and met and Charina. Fact is, I've only seen her in pictures and Q is not quite comfortable talking about her. I made a lot of nodding and smiling and dispensing free legal advice during the party.

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We were both too tired when we got to the condo. The unit is spacious with three bedrooms. There weren't any beds in the other two rooms, though, so I slept in Quincy's room.

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I woke up a little before 5 this morning without knowing where I was. It was the first time that I slept over in Q's condo that at that odd time everything around was foreign to me. Of course, there was also the pang in my head to factor. I slowly reconstructed the events of the evening before until I traced my steps into Q's king sized bed. I had the urge to pee and so went to the bathroom to expel the 13 to 17% alcohol that was running in my sytem.

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When I returned to the bed, Q was still deep in slumber. I tried to resume my sleep. I reckoned I could still sleep for another 15 minutes but by then I was fully awake and conscious of my hangover. I went to the kitchen, boiled a pot of water and made myself a strong cup of coffee.

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I brought the cup to Q's bedroom. As I waited for the coffee to cool a little so as not to burn my tongue I watched him sleep. And then a thought entered my filthy mind. One of my fantasies is giving my partner a blowjob very early in the morning while he is still asleep. That is precisely the thought that entered my mind this morning. It took me a few minutes to deliberate. I touched my coffee cup to feel if it was already okay to take a sip. It still wasn't. So what better way to pass the time?

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Quincy had the bed all to himself and so he was sprawled all over and occupying all the sleeping space. He was wearing a white sando and an army green boxer brief, his arms were crossed under his head, creating a cushion between it and the pillows and his legs were spread wide. Sexy. Plain sexy, the way he slept, I thought.

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I took silent steps to cross the little space from my chair to Q's bed. I listened to his breathing and tried to gauge how asleep he still was. Q did not stir or react to my movements so he must still be in deep slumber. I put my right hand over his crotch and began to massage him. All the while, I was looking at his face to watch out for any reaction.

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Afterwards, since Q seemed to be unaware of what I was doing, I knelt on the bed on the space between his legs and started kissing the skin above the band of Q's boxers. Quincy's abs are tight and ripped by four hours of daily basketball practice and additional two hours of workout in the gym. I kissed his waist and slowly raised his undershirt to run my lips on his six-pack. It was at this time that Q moved. His legs contracted as Quincy raised himself a little on the bed. He was up now.

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What are you doing?

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I wanted to answer, what do you think, but it was obviously self-explanatory. Q reached for something in his bedside table. It was his watch. After taking a glance, he placed it right back and resumed his position in bed.

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You want coffee? Q shook his head and closed his eyes to indicate that he wanted to continue his sleep.

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Well, he knew what I was doing but didn't tell me to stop it. It was only the coffee that he refused. So, it wasn't even ten seconds after Q closed his eyes that I was right back on top of him and kissing his neck. Q did not respond. I kissed him down to his nipples, his stomach and his crotch again.

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Q's cock was still soft when I went down. I slowly removed his boxers and Q cooperated by lifting his lower body a little from the bed. I removed his undies entirely and then took off my own shirt. Q was already half erect when I started sucking him. As always, I began by framing the shaft in my lips and sucking it. And then I bobbed my head up and down the whole cock to direct the blood to fill it. When Q was completely hard, I took it out of my mouth and licked it from the tip of the head to the base. Left side and then the right. Left and then right, up then down.

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When giving head, my cardinal rule is to show appreciation to the entire sex organ. More than giving fellatio, I try to show appreciation for my partner's equipment. Hence, after paying tribute to the cock and have it all excited, I swallowed Quincy's testicles, one ball after another, rolling it with my tongue.

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Quincy was gasping. Both his hands were now on my head as he urged me to continue to give him pleasure. His legs were wide open to give me enough room to operate. I licked his inner thighs, letting the hair growing there to prick my tongue and caress my nose, lips and cheeks. I kissed and bit a little, all the while looking into Q's face as he savored the pleasure.

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Sucking was the only thing in my agenda so I made it last as long as I could. I would suck Q's cock for a few moments and drown it in my saliva and then withdraw it from my mouth. Then I would raise myself and kiss him on the lips, neck and arms. Slowly, I work myself down again as I followed the trail of hair from his flat abs to the glory of his cock. Seeing it is still engorged, I would spit on it a little and resume the sucking.

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It must have taken about twenty or twenty five minutes before Q came. I felt his spasm and his rhythm quicken and I withdrew Q's cock from my mouth. With my very able hand, I guided Q until hot cum spewed from his thick dick. After Q's breathing fell silent, signalling that all semen had come out, we kissed again. With my right hand I spread his cum like butter on his stomach. With my right index finger, I took some of it to run traces around Q's abs and nipples. After that, I knew I had to hurry or else I'd get a traffic violation ticket.

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I just had a quick shower after and then put on a fresh undershirt and the same black pants that I wore the night before. The coffee, which had gone cold during our lovemaking was left in Q's room untouched. Q resumed his sleep and I helped myself out. After I parked my car in the office building, I went to the gym for a few minutes of cardio. It helped to remove the heady feeling I was having and set me in the mood for work.

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All through the day though, in the middle of my meetings and my conversations with fellow lawyers and officemates, all I could think of was the fact that I was able to live out this morning one of my sexual fantasies. Now I'm thinking what gift to give Quincy for helping the fantasy get realized.

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-----oOo-----

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My blog got pimped just recently. Someone picked up my blog greeting to my ultimate man-crush Alvin Patrimonio and posted an excerpt of the birthday message to Alvin's fans' yahoo group. When I wrote the entry, I sadly noted that "he (Alvin) will never get to read this blog". But somehow the stars aligned and Alvin (who periodically reads the message board) will be able (if he still hasn't) to read my greeting. Somehow, it cheers up. Here is the link: http://sports.groups.yahoo.com/group/alvinpatrimonio/message/5287

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-----oOo-----

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Pimped by People. Matt Damon (SpeciMen 08) was recently hailed as 2007 Sexiest Man Alive by People magazine. He takes over Matthew McConaughey whose shirtless campaign failed to make it two in a row. Friends of Matt such as Ben Affleck, George Clooney and Brad Pitt were previous honorees. Typically, Matt took the news in stride and accepted it with good humor.

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The way I look at it, Matt won by default. There wasn't any real contender for this year, except maybe McDreamy (who had a great year on TV and in the big screen with Enchanted), the new James Bond, Daniel Craig (who was smoldering in his gritty film) and Jake Gyllenhaal (whose hotness factor was just tripled by his coupling with Reese Witherspoon). Jake seemed to be too young to be so crowned and it is quite pointless to name Clooney or Pitt for the third time. Matt, who made both men and women admire him in The Bourne Ultimatum, seemed to be the only sane choice.

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Imperative! Freshmen Facelift.

Last week I predicted David Ferrer to come out as the ultimate survivor in the 2007 Masters Cup. I was wrong. I opened the newspapers today to find out Roger Federer just won his fourth Masters title. As it turned, the guy is so good he could still climb up from his grave. He shamed Andy Roddick 6-4, 6-2 in their match and arranged the title match against Ferrer. Good thing that I didn't place a bet as all my horses lost in the race.

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As is obvious in this blog, though I am a practising bisexual, I read a lot of gay porn. It is a guilty pleasure for me. I have a roster of regular porn magazines and I have two suppliers who text me now and then of any new issue available.

Every now and then I would check the websites of my favorite magazines to see what are in store for the coming issues. About the middle of this year, I was pleased to find that Freshmen introduced a little improvement in its site. Not only does it show face shots of the featured models, there are now five free downloads of each model's photoset. There used to be only one free photo that a visitor could get and use as a wallpaper.

The five pictures show the models in various stages of undress. Mostly, it is just the face and the torso. Sometimes, the naked ass is shown. But no full frontal is still featured. One still has to buy the magazine or join the on-line subscription to be able to witness (and savor) the full monty.

Though the fact that the model's cock is still not shown and is a source of mild disappointment, I still welcome facelift that Freshmen made on its webpage. This is so helpful to the buyers of the magazine. Sometimes, one picture is not enough to judge whether the reader will be able to make a connection to the model and, thus, purchase the issue. Now with more photos, there is more opportunity to scrutinize the hotness of the model and the quality of the layout. Sometimes, though the featured model is hot and hunky enough, it is undermined by the poorness of the layout or photo concept. Shucks.

The photos appearing here are from the October issue of Freshmen. The model is named Jay and I guess he is an American model. Judging from the photos, I am sure to buy the magazine once it becomes available in the country.

Looking at the awkward smile of Jay, I had a sudden eureka(!) moment. He is the same guy featured as "Justin" in the September 2007 issue of Playgirl that I purchased just about ten days ago. The grooming and styling is a little different and his torso is more buff and toned but I am 100% certain that Jay of Freshmen is the same as Justin in the Water Prick photo album of Playgirl. I'll try to paste in the coming blogs the Playgirl pics of Justin/Jay.

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SpeciMen 10: Johnny Depp and Matt Kenney.

Try as hard as I may to come out with a third name to complete the usual three guys, I just couldn't today. So, I am pushing through today even though I have to induct only two hot guys. What they have in common is the fact that though I did not like them at the start, I loved them from the second time that I looked and took notice. Like love at second sight. The important thing is that I haven't changed my opinion since.
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He may have made already made more than a dozen movies in the 1990s, starred in a TV show in the 1980s and have inspired a host of pubescent and post-pubescent admiration from millions of girls around the world, but Johnny Depp did not make it to true blue Hollywood A-list status nor earn my personal admiration until he donned his costume in Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl.

Depp's performance in Black Pearl, for me, is one of the freshest and boldest ---if not the boldest--- in the last decade. From the very moment that he entered the scene, with his funny costume, black teeth, wayward walk and drunken delivery of lines, I knew that it was a novel approach to an otherwise old role. I also instantly knew that Depp's performance was enough for me to enjoy the next two hours of my life. Halfway through the movie I knew that Depp's Capt. Jack Sparrow is an Oscar-worthy performance. Comedy acting is rarely recognized, so he should at least be nominated.

Before that film, I remember seeing Depp in Donnie Brasco, The Astronaut's Wife, What's Eating Gilbert Grape and Chocolat but he made no impact on me. He was just another actor saying his lines and taking up space. After all, Gilbert Grape is Leo Di Caprio's breakout film while Chocolat is a showcase for the vast talent of actress Juliette Binoche (who made a fan out of me in that movie). And I saw Brasco in order to savor the greatness of Al Pacino.

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After Black Pearl, I became an instant fan. I made sure to see all his succeeding films. I've seen the Pirates sequels, Dead Man's Chest and At Worlds's End, as well as Once Upon a Time in Mexico, Secret Window, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and his second Oscar nominated performance, Finding Neverland. And I am eagerly anticipating Sweeney Todd, his next movie.

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More than being a movie star and an exceptional actor, the other thing I admire about this guy is the fact that he is non-Hollywood and above being glamorous or shallow. This is manifested in his relationship with model Vanessa Paradis. Instead of living high profile in L.A. or New York, Depp has decided to establish his growing family's residence in Paris. He, Paradis, and their kids have been living there in the past couple of years and Depp only goes to L.A. to "work". In Paris, they are able to live as a "normal" family. It is obvious that Depp has no desire for the public's attention or admiration other than those they show for his performances or to be always pimped in the press or the net.

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On his part, I first saw Matt Kenney when he appeared on the cover and the inside pages of Playgirl way back in August of 2001. He was dubbed as "Doctor Love" and I remember the photo portfolio had him in a moroccan set sprawled on pillows and bedspread of Eastern patterns and designs. I did not like the photos or how Matt looked in it. I remember regretting buying the issue and thinking about exchanging it with my supplier for another. I never got to exchange the mag and I still have it in my porn stack.

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Thus, when Matt's face appeared on the May 2002 edition of Playgirl announcing that he won as Man of the Year, I was skeptical. How could this guy have won, I thought, when he didn't even make an impact on me the first time he appeared? Mindful of how penitent I was after buying the previous August issue, I asked the magazine guy if I could scan the pages before making the purchase. As I pored throught the pictures, I was pleasantly surprised: Matt Kenney is such a gorgeous and sexy smile. That small and sweet smile he had on really quashed me and had me silent in desire.

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The MOTY photoset was way better than the moroccan album. Matt reading fan letters on the bed (naked) and Matt taking a hot shower (of course, naked) in a see-through bath really captured his innate beauty. It was one of the best issues and photosets ever.

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In the middle of this year, I had an occasion to rank the last eight MOTY winners (2000-2007) and Matt was in the top three (along with Jean-Michel Villette and Julian Fantechi [SpeciMen07]). No doubt that he is one of the sexiest and cutest guy ever featured in the magazine. He is one of my all-time favorite Playgirl models (again, in the top three with Sean McNeil [SpeciMen 02] and Drew Fickett).

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Every now and then Playgirl would have a model return for another photo feature (Julian has appeared at least four times in the magazine). Unfortunately, Matt Kenney has not been offered that opportunity. I sincerely hope that Playgirl would invite him to grace its pages once again. Matt works as a Chippendale dancer in Las Vegas. How about a fantasy shoot on a day in the life of a gigolo? I am sure a lot of the readers would want to know how that shoot will turn out.

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Happy Birthday, Honey!!!
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It is still two days away but I am not sure whether I will still find the time to blog a greeting for him tomorrow or Saturday. Or whether I will still have the cooperation of my PC or the web traffic. I remember that same time last year, I had recurrent problems with uploading photos. So, why not today?

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On Saturday, November 17, my dearest man crush Alvin Patrimonio will be celebrating his 41st birthday. So even if he will never get to read this blog, I am giving a shout out of "Happy Birthday, Alvin!!!". I hope you have a great year and that your efforts as team manager will be rewarded by a 2nd championship trophy. If you and your boys make it to the finals, I promise to haul my friends again to the venues to watch the series live and cheer until my voice tires or my elbows hurt (as I did when you won in July of 2006).

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[Incidentally, this is the first time that I am blogging using my SE K800i phone and pasting pictures that I did not grab from somewhere in the web. The top and left photos are shots I took from old magazines using the phone. It has an instant "send to blog" feature. An esteemable partnership between Sony Ericsson and blogspot. It makes my blogging easier.]

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And though Alvin has retired from playing basketball, he remains one of the biggest draws of the PBA even if he just sits on the Purefoods bench as team manager. Thus, during his birthday celebration last year, this shot was flashed during the live coverage of the game. Luckily, his players persevered and delivered a win on that night. Purefoods is pre