September 2014

A man on a train, his phone, and two young women — and the complicated sympathy of a recovering creep.

Today, I don’t want to make you scream. I want to lie back and let you do all the work.

A modest proposal.

On objectification, the confusion it causes me, and the unexpected clarity that domination provides — and then takes away.

I finished binge watching “Orange is the New Black,” and now I want to fuck the cast. Here’s my top ten, ranked in order of raw, unapologetic objectification.

A man I met in 1991 — homeless, hustling, gay, disowned — is still alive, still homeless, twenty-two years later. He awes me.

My cock gets hard, and I know I’m alive. There are other ways to remember, but none quite so convincing.

I have things to say. I just can’t figure out how to say them.

A few days late, but Sofia more than makes up for it.