flying into la. i hate lax. crissy waited for me at the gate, looking gosh darn cute in her little white suit. we were late for the party, but everyone agreed that i was the sweetest ass to land on the coast this year. i ran into some friends of friendsters and some friends of skweejees. crissy introduced me to lee, a guy in development, and he said to me "i just have to," and he reached out and touched my ass. "damn, boi, you could set the table with that." its nice that all those reverse lunges paid off. later, i got my first official hollywood bj. this guy i met through lee who does imaging at pixar said "with those arms, i speak for everyone that we hope to see more of you." devon and crissy think he's creepy, but i dont know. crissy dont have a set up, but i found a sweet place in weho to do my usual reps, concentrating on pecs and delts.

tee hee hee. Look a little and you'll find a few blogs that are kind of like this. (I'm sure they're nice people in life.) Could this fictional blog be by anything other than a gorgeous, young, guy? And, what about this body -- slim, toned, muscled, and hairless. An ideal gay metro body to match a gay metro blog.

"C'mon people, true beauty comes from within." (See me place hands on hips.)

I learned a new word today: Dysmorphia. While males report a growing dissatisfaction with their bodies in recent years generally, gay men report a higher rate than their hetero counterparts. That's not surprising, given the images on any porn screen or covers of Men's Health magazines. Others might factor in the gay community's traditional emphasis on sex. Another newly-learned term: The Adonis Complex.

Yawn.

I found articles that make correlations between body image, and drug use, including steroids. One guy wrote that when people disagreed with his ideas, they attacked his looks. Ouch.

Can we say "junior high"?

Two years ago, I was transferred to Ohio from Colorado. Moving from a fitness-conscious, outdoorsy state, where everyone comes standard with a snowboard and a mountain bike, it seemed like I would gain 50 lbs just by existing in Ohio. Pass the cheese log please -- hey, is that real cheese?

I had a body crisis. BIPC has a free gym, and I hit it regularly. Funny: For the first time in my life, I grew a chest and a butt. Forty years old and I even grew some shoulders. If you've seen that stupid ad for Viagra (there's another blogrant for the future), where everyone asks the guy "did you do something to your hair?" etc. That was like me: "New shirt, hugshyhermit?" Nope.

In the last few weeks, I haven't been able to get to the gym as frequently. This didn't adversely impact anything; to the contrary, I lost a few pounds and... suddenly my abs popped out. Oh beautiful, dimpled stomach! My shoulders became "cut", and underneath the trapezoids, I see my rib cage.

I've become a twink! (uh, well... No...)

But surprised -- yes, I am. Knowing that I had to work out, then stop, is an unrealistic way to maintain this "look". No wonder supplements are plastered all over the pages of men's health magazines -- you can't eat enough to build muscle mass and simultaneously not eat to keep yourself slim.

And it doesn't make sense.

What also continues to amaze me are statistics on weight generally, showing we are a nation of fatsos. As with income tax brackets or your thoughts on gun control or abortion, it seems as though physicality is another way we're being pushed as a society to extremes: You're either obsessed to be thin, or morbidly obese. Count every last calorie, or throw in the towel.

What ever happened to the saying everything in moderation? Being healthy and looking good does not require a gym membership.

Well, back to kissing my biceps...