Must Blow 51: Jonathan Rhys Meyers.

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Today is Easter Tuesday and it is a start of new life for me. A turn of a new chapter in the book that I am living. An opportunity for a personal rebirth or reinvention. I had quite a restful and reflective Holy Week. As was my custom, I did not go out of town. The family just stayed in the city and we, in our own ways, went to church to participate in its activities.

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I have my own set of activities during the Holy Week. Though it is just the same as any other good Catholic ---doing visita iglesia, hearing mass, renewing my baptismal vows during Easter vigil mass--- I prefer to do them with my old friends, the same one I've had since I was twelve years old. It is sort of automatic among us, even if some of the guys are already married, we set aside the Holy Week to hold a solemn reunion. Wives, girlfriends and partners are welcome, but discouraged. This year, after we heard the vigil mass, we went to a restaurant and had a festive dinner until two o' clock in the morning. Afterwards, we transferred to the nearest Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf and we did not part ways until the shop closed at five thirty in the morning.

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Enter Quincy. A funny thing happened during Holy Thursday. I was the first among my friends to get to church. Since the mass was already starting and my friends weren't in yet, I picked a pew of my choice. I put my phones in silent mode. Even if I felt them vibrate in pockets, I ignored them. After all, what call or message could I possibly receive during that hour that is more important than that which comes from God? Certainly, it was just my friends inquiring whether I was at the church already and where I was seated.

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Not a few minutes after, in comes Quincy with his whole family ---father, mother, two sisters. One sister even had a boyfriend in tow (who was hot, by the way). Quincy is a towering 6'4" tall so he was easily recognizable when he got into my line of vision. And I was also eagerly waiting for my friends so I glanced at the doors once in a while.

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The church was almost full but there were only two other people occupying my row. Quincy's dad was the one who saw the free seats just beside me and so he herded his family to my pew.

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I already had a smile on my face when I realized where Quincy's family was heading. Oh my god, here we go again, I told myself. I knew that this could happen. After all, it was at church that I first spotted Quincy and asked myself: What is a professional basketball player, mid-twenties, who once made it to Cosmo's 69 hottest bachelors, doing still hearing mass with his family? I smelled something fishy then. And also we, by chance, saw each other in the same church last February when we attended the same mass. Around that time I was ignoring his calls and texts so we sort of ignored each other.

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There wasn't enough space to accommodate the whole lot of them. Quincy's mom, dad and youngest sister (in this order) walked past me and sat to my left. Quincy, older sister and boyfriend stood on the right part of the church, a few steps from the confessional. When Quincy's dad motioned that there was space for one more, Quincy joined in. It was only when he was few steps away that he recognized me. My smile was getting wider as he got closer, so Quincy might have known how funny I thought the situation was. When our eyes met, he said "Hoy." (or was it Uuuy!) and then he sat right next to me.

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We acknowledged each other's presence and after a few minutes that I couldn't contain myself, I whispered to Quincy, Isn't this wierd? During the homily, I would lean over and whisper to Quincy my comments on the priest's sermon and Quincy, in turn, would utter his assent or dissent.

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After mass, Quincy introduced me to his family as his friend. "Fuckbuddy" may have sounded too scandalous or sacrilegous to say inside a church. "Potential boyfriend" may have motivated Quincy's father to commit sins of his own there and then.

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I did not think that Quincy had any other choice but to introduce me. After all, we were whispering and snickering throughout. His parents would have asked about it if Quincy did not come clean. His mother asked me how it is that we became friends and I just answered vaguely that we had mutual friends and Quincy once consulted me, as a lawyer, to review his professional contracts. Hearing the word "lawyer" sort of put an end to any questioning, replaced by parental approval.

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That wasn't the end of things. Some of my friends were seated just a few pews behind mine and they already located me during mass. They approached me and I also introduced Quincy to them. One friend asked me afterwards how I knew Quincy and I said that a client once referred him to me and Quincy evolved from a client to a friend (somehow).

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Blowing JRM. Today's entry was supposed to be about Jonathan Rhys Meyers, today's Must Blow guy. I was supposed to write about how sexy I find him and all the other things that make me admire him. I was supposed to write only a few words about my Holy Week and mention briefly the encounter with Quincy's family. The blog went out of hand, but in a good way. I hope.

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I have already named fifty guys in my Must Blow list (David Beckham, the "Golden Balls" of international football, was my Golden Blow). In starting my list of another fifty, I really tried to choose a special guy to usher the new round. I couldn't have chosen any other guy but JRM.
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Hollywood is a haven for goodlooking men. But physical beauty does not not necessarily translate to sexiness. And JRM, while not nearly the most handsome guy in Hollywood at this time, is definitely the sexiest in the roster of new actors. He simply exudes raw sexuality that appeals to people of all sexes. I think that is reflected in the films that he has done, like Velvet Goldmine and The Tudors. Even Mission Impossible III capitalized on his sex appeal by the number of close-up shots of JRM's face. Even if the film starred pretty boy Tom Cruise JRM was the real eye candy in that film.
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JRM is also my Hollywood boyfriend of the moment. I have a copy of Details' holiday issue with him on the cover lying on the passenger seat of my car. In the middle of traffic, I just look over at the cover. In my mind, I am kissing JRM's sweet lips and tearing off his v-neck shirt. Isn't that a good way of conquering stress on the road?
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-----oOo-----

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A New Model. Lusting over male models is one of my secret hobbies. Among the emerging kings of the catwalk and fashion pages, Chad White, Jamie Dornan and Nicholas Lemons are my favorites. Tyler Lough, a new model yet to distinguish himself in this easiest of professions is also in my elite list.

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Some weeks ago, I had a new discovery in the name of Jeremy Santucci. He is definitely one hot papa. I love the abs and the intense gaze he has in these pictures. And of course, how I'd love to peel off that blue trunks and free that huge cock he has in there.

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I hope the bulge is for real.

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