5 posts categorized "GILLES MARINI"
(Image by Pantelis for Coitus)
Lloyd Daniels gets naked on Instagram. Also, there is a famous person named Lloyd Daniels.
Gilles Marini shows his butt while topping. (Work Unfriendly)
(Image via Howard & Austin Mutti-Mewse)
The Mutti-Mewse twins have THE best Old Hollywood autograph collection ever. Period. The end.
The New Yorker gets right to the point:
More troubling corruption: Trump's White House tries to lean on FBI over Russia reports, suggested media manipulation:
White House tells NBC that the FBI pulled Priebus aside about leaks— but Priebus still asked FBI to 'clear it up' https://t.co/Gj98JDCJNa pic.twitter.com/eM3hIDZQXZ
— Kyle Griffin (@kylegriffin1) February 24, 2017
Former Sec. of Education Arne Duncan on trans rights rollback: “thoughtless,” “cruel,” “sad.” Plus: Where are alleged good cops Ivanka & Jared?
Seth Meyers Rips Donald Trump for Attacking Transgender Kids: WATCH https://t.co/xjTnFxCyFA pic.twitter.com/Rb11aF6Cxg
— Towleroad (@tlrd) February 24, 2017
I'm never sure what to say when a fantasy-figure, gorgeous guy posts a picture of his equally gorgeous teenage son asserting that his son is a "man" and asking you if you think he's good-looking or not. Is Chris Hansen hiding in the kitchen? Sex and the City shower-stud Gilles Marini has been pimping his son's beauty to his social-media followers for a while now. I guess it's a French thing.
Yes, we are gay—don't judge Gilles Marini and me
Last Saturday, I had a lot of fun covering the red carpet of the 23rd GLAAD Media Awards. Didn't I just do that? Yes, but that was the New York edition; as I was in L.A., I covered the West Coast gathering. See, GLAAD ain't dumb—they have two to make it so no celebrity can say, "Oh, I'm on the wrong coast! I can't go!"
I hired my sweet pal Brad as my videographer and met him at the Westin Bonaventure just in time to check in and take our places. I kind of hate how the carpet was set up—the guests were allowed to congregate behind us to stargaze, which was distracting. But it was nothing compared to the women two spots down from me whose entire goal was to flash a huge "FREE GAY HUGS!" sign and video themselves receiving said hugs from roughly two-thirds of the celebrities who walked. (And I thought I was lame with my aggressive pic-with requests!) They were so damn loud! Luckily, they didn't ruin any of my interviews, but only by sheer luck.
Brad's mic needed batteries (he's blond; sorry, Brad) so I wound up videoing my own first chat, with Jennifer Tyrrell. She's the lesbian mom recently booted as a den mother by the virulently homophobic Boy Scouts of America. Smart woman and immediately likable. Unreal that they're getting away with that crap. I was a cub scout (I bailed on Webelos mainly because...what the fuck is a Webelo???) and fondly remember my Pinewood Derby racing days as well as the hillbilly band we assembled for a talent night. Not to mention the father/son cook-off, in which my father and I had a well-appreciated coconut cream pie. But still, fuck the Scouts.
My first stars were Angela Featherstone (STUH-nning, but my campadre confessed she had been an ice queen on a recent shoot) and Michelle Paradise of Exes & Ohs. No Megan Cavanagh, but they were delightful.
Next, I snagged Grant Gustin of Glee. I don't really follow the show, but no one that cute is getting past me without a third degree. He's adorable and quite articulate, even if he refers to gay people as "homosexuals," which totally didn't offend me because he was totally doing it to sound smart, not homophobic. I had a homosexual crush on various parts of him.
Max Adler from the same show was equally adorable and charming. He's passionate about his role, even though it came as a total shocker that his bullying character would be written as a late-blooming man-lover.
The 23rd Annual GLAAD Media Awards at the Marriott Marquis last night was a fun time once I decided I was for sure not dashing to Connecticut to support a friend's event starring Mickey Rooney. I'd already committed to GLAAD and couldn't quite wrap my mind around three hours (both ways) of travel for an hour of notoriously curmudgeonly Rooney fielding questions about his career and undoubtedly griping about the filth that passes for entertainment today, but I was happy to hear later that Mickey's gig was a treat in the end.
Here I am interviewing Thomas Roberts (photo from here)
José was my camerman (which removes a lot of the stress; having to stick a video camera directly into someone's face is awkward, especially when they're not performing sexual acts and high on whatever people get high on these days).
He and I and everyone I ran into were kvetching about how tired we were, didn't wanna do this massive red carpet, etc. But it wound up being rather cool.
I was next to a really fun girl whose hair, nonetheless, kept creeping into my face and all over my body (she had a mane on her). At one point, it worked itself under my MEDIA sticker and tugged it partially off like one of those cartoon vines. She apologized and I accepted, but I have enough hair all over me.
More after the jump...