ABOVE: The co-op wouldn't allow the wreath on the front door, so ...

BELOW: Keep reading for a show-off who's got plenty to show off, vintage gayness, a bag filled with 30+ human pensies and more ...

ABOVE: Tom's in the homo stretch.

BELOW: Keep reading for hot models, a naked Big Brother, some gay She-Ra and more ...

Andrew Garfield (Image by Matthew Rettenmund)

Had fun at the Drama Desk Awards Sunday night. It's such a low-key event, with plenty of merriment onstage thanks to the perfect host: Michael Urie.

Autograph hound bothering me and my date Daniel Craig (Image by Mike Summers)

I was gonna go to D.C. this weekend, or even plan a camping trip, but they seem to be falling through.

Instead, I had my getaway right in NYC: My pal Mike had an extra ticket to the Drama Desk Awards Monday evening, as well as the after-party, so I was only too happy to snap it up.

Christy Altomare of Anastasia (The guy with her was dreamy.)

Tommy Tune, one of the few I grabbed outside (Image by Mike Stern)

We attended with our other pal, also Mike.

Did I mention that Mike #1 is 10X the starfucker I am, and that Mike #2 is 100X the starfucker I am?! Having two people seeking star pic-withs is ideal, because if you grab someone, it's easy enough to then switch positions and stars are usually happy to oblige. With three, it becomes overwhelming.

Christine Ebersole! This one, I didn't think was destined to happen. (Image by Mike Summers)

So, I did not go for everyone they did (Danny DeVito, Amy Ryan, many nominees), yet still had fun and wound up with some nice photos.

ABOVE: Randy (with Mike #2) was a hilarious presenter, zinging Andrew Lloyd Webber in absentia. BELOW: Mike #2 in action with George Takei! (Images by Matthew  Rettenmund)

We found Randy Rainbow (so nice, with Mom as his date) before the carpet, but then parked where the stars would go from carpet to theater so the guys would be able to grab as many quick pic-withs as possible.

Vanessa Williams, Kevin Kline, Jane Krakowski (Images by Matthew Rettenmund)

I must say my spotting abilities were on point — I went from tiny Danny DeVito to towering Tommy Tune, and helped them spot Kate Walsh and other famous people they knew but couldn't place. (Though I was hopeless on  theater people.)

Facebook @boycultureblog: Above, please check out my pics from last night's Cocktails & Classics party, hosted by Michaels Musto & Urie, with Robin Byrd & more!

The Guardian: In Amsterdam, a gay couple attacked for holding hands receives support from straight men, who poured into the streets holding hands. 

Ik vind het wel mooi, al die publieke statements van mannen vandaag: #allemannenhandinhand .
Zijn er nog statements binnen de #krijgsmacht ?

— Voorzitter AFMP (@AnneMarieSnels) April 3, 2017

Huff Post: Horrific chemical attack by Syrian government probably meant to send a message of defiance to all regimes seeking to oust Assad: He'll do anything.

Kenneth in the (212): Nick Heyward of Haircut 100 returns.

Facebook: Scruff plans Dance for Pride in New Delhi with local LGBTQ community.

YouTube @ Jimmy Kimmel Live: Inspired! The cast of Girls becomes the cast of Golden Girls. Shosh looks like Tracey Ullman. 

Download Video as MP4

“You see, Carol Ann, you have to stay on top of things every single minute”: Rutanya Alda & Michael Musto

I had a blast at an intimate cocktail party earlier for Cocktails & Classics (#CocktailsAndClassics), the Logo TV series that's a (good and bad) movie lover's wet dream. So glad Michael Musto asked me!

The show, hosted by one of my celebrity crushes, Michael Urie (whose performance in Buyer & Cellar is one of the best things I've ever seen of any kind), brings together gay gab, cinema and the sometimes befuddled stars of neo-classics in a chatfest of which you'd die to be a part.

The party was to celebrate the show's second season, and was held at The Eventi - A Kimpton Hotel (#EventiHotel) in Chelsea in a charming screening room, where we all watched Mommie Dearest (1981) ... again!

Fuck with me, fellas!: Tayte Hanson, Shangela & Michael Urie

At the screening, I had a great chat with Urie about Madonna (he raved about her Rebel Heart Tour, his first-ever Madonna concert!) and Manilow (he is a Manilover); kibitzed with Musto about his ready-to-wear statement necklace made of wire hangers; listened in shock as Mommie Dearest actress Rutanya Alda told me Faye Dunaway recently asked her to help her write Dunaway's proposed memoir about the movie for free; said hi to CockyBoys pornstar Tayte Hanson; did an interview with Tym Moss; and was reunited with Jason Russo of HeyMrJason Photography, who shot my book(s) party. I sat with fellow blogger Kenneth Walsh of Kenneth in the (212) and our pal Greg Endries, the latter of whom won the night by exclaiming, “I'll have what she's having!” when Christina Crawford/Diana Scarwid was moaning during her ovarian-tumor episode.

After the jump, check out 99% of the fun panel talk that preceded the movie, featuring Musto, Urie, Shangela and the ageless Alda (presented in black-and-white for that extra cinematic flair) ...

GLAAD's Rich Ferraro has consistently invited me to his organization's events and I've consistently declined; I officially cover so many events for my dayjob and unofficially cover so many events on my blog for fun that my thought has been I don't really need to hyperextend myself by marrying the two and officially covering an event for my blog.

Gays & thespians: Honoree Nixon with Prayers for Bobby's Weaver

But The 21st Annual GLAAD Media Awards were honoring Cynthia Nixon and Joy Behar (two of my favorite redheads—the red carpet was truly red/orange...it was a Night of 1,000 Gingers) so I made it my first red carpet, quickly discovering that doing an event with no boss to please and nothing to lose and yet having orchestrated access to the main attractions can wind up being the best of both worlds—officially fun.

From where I stood 

I arrived around 3PM for press check-in. There was a crush of people and the nice lady at the desk wasn't; I asked where to go and she said up the escalator, which isn't really that descriptive considering I was in the Marriott Marquis in Times Square (a place I was at on 9/10/01, and where I discussed going to the World Trade Center the following day to get TKTS tickets for a show...something that never panned out, obviously). I went up, as commanded, but couldn't figure out where to go next. I was pointed in many directions, finally landing on the third floor. (You'll see from the photos that I was much even more disheveled and droopy than usual.)

All my B-roll footage:

Here, I found my spot on the line—right toward the end. Red carpets are like the social caste system made manifest, or like a literal food chain. On the latter, I would be the seeds the birds poop out to keep the plants growing. To make it less metaphorical, I was two slots behind something called Autostraddle.com, which I refuse to look up because it sounds like one of those mechanical dildo sites. (I broke down and looked it up—it's a kinda great lesbian site with lots of traffic.)

But it turns out my spot wasn't so bad (considering I'm just some guy with a blog) because most of the stars were rather available and those who weren't were stopping to my left to do stuff with GLAAD. At first, I was right next to Ben Harvey and Dave Rubin of Ben & Dave's Six Pack (pictured, image from Metrosource). They were also covering for Queerty, though I wondered if they might not get less frozen reactions if they left the Queerty part out (I still link to Queerty, but I think it's fair to describe it as somewhat caustic). They were cute and as nice as can be; I point this out because the act of having a six-pack makes people gushingly nice, but the act of having six-pack abs usually does the opposite. They were professional and hot, the types of guys you wouldn't hate being stuck on a crowded elevator with, so I hoped they'd help attract stars, Suddenly Last Summer-style.

Samara puts the Reichen Lehmkuhls on the spot 

**If anyone knows the names of any of the unnamed guys in my post/pictures/videos, comment away!**

Broadway Bares all.

Last night was Broadway Bares 19.0, the 19th annual version of an event founded by Jerry Mitchell (who I interviewed last year when I was minding Towleroad for a week) featuring Broadway's hottest dancers and some well-known names performing in broad burlesque skits with original choreography set to familiar songs. The point—other than who wouldn't want to pay $50 to see the hottest bodies in New York next to naked?—is to raise cash for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS. Each Broadway Bares installment has a theme, this year being the Internet, hence the title "Click It."

Keep reading for more like this.

I went with my friends Jason and Anthony and met up with their friends Phil and Guy (pictured—aren't they so cute?). After basically holding El Azteca on 9th Avenue hostage for hours on end followed by a brief appearance at Vlada that would have been considered a cameo if any of us were stars and if Vlada were a Russian expressionist film, we showed up at Roseland only to find the line wrapped all the way around the block. I was literally further back in line than I was for Madonna! So much for the recession keeping gay men from handing over cash in exchange for access to people's underthings.

Highlights from throughout the show.

Once we got in, we migrated to the side, where we were as close to the stage as possible considering our perilously late arrival. This was when I took it upon myself to arrange a quick photo op with Michael Urie from Ugly Betty, who's currently starring in the play The Temperamentals. (The staffer who took the shot took a pic of his own fact first. Cute.)

Though it later turned out that Urie didn't even perform in the show (he just did an ending speech which had been provided to him and which he mock ruefully pointed out was 13 pages in length)—Jason sniffed, "It's Broadway Bares, not Off-Broadway Bares!"—he was still a sweetheart.

Careful—private browsing isn't really private!

Truthfully, the show this year was somewhat lacking compared to last year's more vibrant and creative series of Alice in Wonderland vignettes, mainly because the Internet theme was a weak idea and had to be stretched beyond recognition in order to provide material for just over an hour's worth of numbers. (Pictured, a "surfing" as surfing sketch.)

There are tons of superhot women in the show, too...but notice the crowd's focus.

But there is no denying the good-natured vibe of this show, peopled by a cast of thousands of asses attached to shit-eating grins and, when the night ends and the dancers go into "Rotation" and strip for cash, stuffed with enough money to pay Dolly Parton to abandon Broadway forever.

As always, the aerial portions were the be-all end-all.

Though I think some of us were shocked that the ended as quickly as it did, there were some noteworthy highlights aside from the uniform excellence of its uniformless participants. The best number starred most of the night's best-looking, best-built guys—the Fantasy Football Dancers. "I'm not afraid to admit to a jockstrap fetish," one guy near me said, which is like admitting you like vodka at an AA meeting.

One of the nicest surprises was seeing Norm Lewis from The Little Mermaid in the altogether—nothing little about him.

Allison Janney was pretty hilarious as that annoying Mac color wheel alongside beyond-sexy Matt Skrincosky's PC hourglass, cracking herself up as she randomly pulled out her bepastied breasts one by one and later lampooning her own reputation in 9 to 5 ("poor thing can't sing or dance," people are saying) by shouting that Susan Boyle can't sing.

So, too, was Sutton Foster, who exulted in the freedom this appearance brought, the freedom to sport big hair, a little dress and to say the word "fuck" a lot.

Sutton Foster got carried away by Shrek's Dennis Stowe.

Bares vet Christopher Sieber read us the "what a riot!" act.

The main reason to patronize Broadway Bares is for Rotation, where you're allowed, even encouraged, to approach all your favorite dancers of the night and stuff money into, well, whatever tight spot they'll allow. Most were demure enough to attract dollars in respectable places, like hooked under the waistbands of their Aussiebum boxerbriefs, though a few daring rumpshakers sported jockstraps, which paradoxically provided fewer and more places to slip it to them.

Definitely a stand-out was Jockstrap Boy. Wish I'd brought a roll of quarters.

One of the Fantasy Footballers was definitely a tight end.

The most surprising hottie was writer/satirist Mo Rocca, who had done a cartwheel and high kick onstage, and who had no problem wiggling alongside Broadway's hottest, dancers Nick Adams (he of the Mario Lopez bicep imbroglio) and Spencer Liff.

Nick and Spencer: So cute together.

I was (a lot) like a fat kid with his hand in the cookie jar.

Speaking of Nick, he wound up getting $40 from me; I felt he deserved $20 for the bother and when it was all over he was still my favorite and I hadn't donated nearly enough, hence the repeat. He was a great sport and got on all fours the second time for a chaste spank. You know you've been married 15 years when these things mean so much to you.

There were several others who captured my heart and my ones and fives, as you'll see from the photos and videos.

Highlights from Rotation.

All in all, I had a great time and I'm glad Broadway Bares dances on. They should make this a permanent show on Broadway—I feel like it would attract an audience, which is generally what happens anytime attractive people disrobe let alone anytime talented people gather in a group and sing and dance. I'm thinking this 19th version might have been lacking due to Mitchell's absence (he's working on Catch Me If You Can in Seattle) and the possibility that everyone's saving up to make next year's 20th even more fant-ass-tic.

A word of advice—sell tickets to a pre-show meet-and-greet/photo op. You'll make more money than you've ever made.

Believe it or not, more pictures after the jump...