30 September 2009
In honor of my day off today (and tomorrow), I present another edition of black and white Thursday. Or hunks in black and white as I like to call it. These are all amazing men, don't you agree?
Here is yesterday's The Grizzwells cartoon, which is written by Bill Schorr. It made me laugh, probably because of the bear and the Village People reference. Hope it tickles your funny bone.
29 September 2009
An assortment of wonders. Call 'em men. Call 'em hunks. Call 'em gods. Who cares. Just call 'em. Apologies if any are repeats (but most certainly worth repeating). On a personal note, I'm taking Thursday and Friday off work as vacation days. It's about freakin' time, let me tell you. I'm so looking forward to it. Hope you all are relaxing.
28 September 2009
There's something sexy about camouflage, probably because of the mind jump to military and uniforms. I don't own any but I would imagine it isn't an easy item to accessorize. Shirtless seems to work pretty well as evidenced here.
Hope the week is being good to everyone. BEHR HUGS!!
27 September 2009
26 September 2009
Today's favorite features one of beardom's hottest men, Bo Dixon. I found this picture on his Facebook fan site. The photographer was Tim Palen (giving credit where credit is due). Aside from the Stud Cuts sign, I really like the entire composition of this picture, from the shadows and light to the camera angle. If shot straight on, it would just be another picture; but with the tilted angle it becomes much more interesting. I also like that Bo is part of the picture, not the picture. It actually doesn't look like a barbershop to me; it looks like an old converted diner. But never-the-less, it evokes a bygone era.
If you're of a certain age, you may remember having your hair cut at a barber, not a salon or at one of the many haircutting/stylist chains that exist today. You sat in a big oversized chair and were covered in a white sheet, not a synthetic cover that so many places use these days. The barber was an older man and smelled vaguely of Vitalis and cigars. The barber shop itself had the proverbial striped pole outside and the inside smelled of hair, Barbasol, cigarettes, Clubman Pinaud talc, and the aforementioned Vitalis. It smelled like your father. It smelled of masculinity and testosterone and sweat. It smelled like MEN.
When I saw today's picture for the first time, memories flooded back complete with smells. I miss those old barber shops; I actually buzz my own head. But the barbershop - or barbers as we called it - was a refuge, a place for men to escape on a Saturday. It was a rite of passage when your father told you to go get a hair cut and gave you the $1.50 or $3 and you rode your bike to the neighborhood barber alone. Suddenly you were a man. I was terrified the first time I went alone. The men scared me and at the same time stirred something within me that I didn't understand. I miss those days and experiences. Not only because they're so far and few between but because...well I'm mostly bald!
Thanks for letting me share this picture today and my memories. BEHR HUGS!!