2013

More. I want more. This is what I always think.

My wife reminds me of a tradition I’d rather forget.

Words that sound like what they mean.

I used to crave rejection. Now I crave an endless supply of its opposite. Neither, it turns out, is available forever.

You don’t need a license to park.

Sex blogs, like rock bands, burn bright and flame out. I miss the ones that are gone.

An unremarkable woman on the train. Except.

A woman I’ve never met rejected me, and my body knew it before my mind did.

I used to hide behind your desires. Now I know what I want.

Over 500 posts deep, here’s a map for the newcomer — starting, naturally, with my cock.