January 2012

The city feeds me with an endless stream of beautiful people.

Writing about my sex life makes me feel alive. There’s a lot, though, you’ll never read.

I have more in common with Jeffrey Dahmer than I’d like to admit.

Strip clubs are like shrines to a notion of male desire that is almost completely unappealing to me.

Intelligence, confidence, complete submission, grammar, yoga pants, and a very long list of other things.

Shakespeare got something about lust that Steve McQueen didn’t.

Newt Gingrich, open marriage, and some things you and I both know but rarely say out loud.

A loss neither of us wanted, imposed from without.

I direct her from across a crowded hotel lobby, texting instructions while businessmen in khakis steal glances at what they can’t have.