Frighteningly adorable dancer Andy Mills broke my YouTube last month when I uploaded snippets from his Broadway Bares: Solo Strips number as part of my review. YouTube decided it was too racy even though all he does is briefly bare his booty at the end (how about that Shia LaBeouf penis video YouTube embraced?).
Now, we'll see if Vimeo is similarly puritanical...
This was after Josh's third trip to dump money backstage
Last night wasBroadway Bares: Solo Strips at XL in NYC, which is a sort of appetizer for the main event, Broadway Bares on June 17 @ Roseland. The concept is that 10 Broadway dancers do brief striptease routines for a paying crowd and then shake their literal moneymakers afterward, being generous with at least their tips in search of generous tips in order to raise money for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS.
The new WTC building had nothing on her
Waiting for my sidekick, I watched a 6'4" (guessing) drag queen sashaying in and wondered if she could touch the ceiling inside. Just was hoping she wouldn't be standing in front of me; tall people can be such (high) heels about that sort of thing.
When I went in, I was crestfallen to hear a woman at the door reminding everyone not to take any pictures. If something happens and no pictures are taken, did it really happy at all? She didn't tell me, so that was my out, but I was kinda worried until the show began and nobody seemed to care.
A tasteful shot of tasty Matt
These events can be aspirational, considering all the ridiculously built men milling about (onstage and off), and yet when I hugged charming (and single, boys!) Matt Skrincosky, who has to believe I'm a stalker by now and who was one of the perfect specimens selling raffle tickets, it had the dual effect of motivating and making me think, "What's the use?"
He swore my raffle ticket would win!
I was at the stairs so had a fairly good view. There was, of course (as there always is) one tall asshole (kidding, but I've always found vertically gifted people to be a lot more entertaining horiztonal) in the exact spot where some of the down-and-dirtiest grinding was happening, but overall I was happy to capture a few sizzling moments. I ran into my Broadway Bares bud Andrew Glaszek, who is apparently at every event in existence and has already slept with everyone I have a crush on; he's younger, but could be my mentor. Or maybe my chorus-boy rabbi.
A reminder: Be sure you donate $ to this worthy cause if you're gonna ogle my pictures and videos, 'k?
Preparing to toss Cesar's salad
First up was Cesar Abreu, working an ambitious James Bond number that included a gorgeous chick (whose name someone will probably send me) and Josh Buscher, who popped up later in the show. The great thing was that he had a gun in his pocket AND was happy to see us.
I wanna say I'm just a little stuck on Nick
Evita's Nick Kenkel had a leisurely routine centered around a studios type with a harness under his clothes and a penchant for whipping out Madonna fetish gear during a Janet Jackson number. One of the evening's best bodies on an evening when all of the bodies were simply the best.
***PLEASE CLUE ME IN ON NAMES OF ANY UNIDENTIFIED DANCERS***
Last night was the twenty-first annual edition of Broadway Bares and the fourth one in a row I've attended. Broadway Bares XXI: Masterpiece! snuck up on me; as I was watching it, I was thinking it wasn't my favorite. However, looking back at pictures and videos, it's obvious that there were some stunning numbers in spite of some pretty cringe-worthy humor interludes. In fact, the full-length musicals in which the night's dancers are currently performing should take notes.
The David? How about The Brandon! (Rubendall)
We arrived at Roseland to get in line around 9:30PM, so would have our pick of spots once the show let us in two hours later. Jason and I ran into a bunch of his friends, including Clark Kent, "Hey, Jude," and someone who once dated with Truth Wins Out good-fighter Wayne Besen (I guess his ex-, just not an ex-gay). There was a Bares virgin among us (sounds like a Treasure Media title), but the rest of us knew what to expect inside—skin, bawdy humor and opportunities to slip green into pink and/or brown. (Sidebar: Not just saying that—this year's Bares felt remarkably more racially diverse than past installments.)
Let's just look at Rotation here instead of at the end
Just past 11:30PM and after the 9:30PM show's patrons had spilled into the streets looking keyed up and, well, drunk, we filed in and beelined to the far side of the middle runway. I was pleased to be right at the stage, yet I'd later realize my "less good" position in previous years had actually been more desirable—I was so close it was tougher to take pictures and, at times, see thanks to the very sweet but confoundingly non-transparent guy in front of me. Making conversation as a go-go boy doled out ones in exchange for twenties, he asked me if I liked that the dancer was wearing a cock ring.
The sea of horny homos looked like Grindr come to life; I didn't check it inside, but I imagine the first 50 guys on my screen would have been 0 feet away.
Keegan Albrecht paints "Come back to Broadway Bares, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean"
The place was teeming with celebrities along with testosterone, including Wilson Cruz (in my group yet too far for me to chat with), John Benjamin Hickey, Nick Adams, BearCity's Joe Conti, entertainer nonpareil Scott Nevins, Jack Plotnick, Jonathan D. Lovitz and probably more.
While waiting for things to begin, we were treated to watching a cute artiste (Keegan Albrecht) painting an image of James Dean, but it was just as fun watching the pre-show T-shirt vendors attempting to steal the dancers' thunder by baring their buns for a determinedly devoted crew at the end of the middle runway.