2014

I’m loving Belle Knox. More to come.

I want to tell you what to do. I want to tell you what to wear. I want you to say “yes” to me.

A conversation that starts with a creep on a train and ends somewhere much more interesting.

My evolving opinions on a diagnosis that doesn’t actually exist.

Rejection makes me want a blow job from a stranger and a cigarette, in that order. Instead, I’m just sitting here, feeling it.

Two women I see weekly, both gorgeous, both objects of my idle fantasies — and then one of them flirts with another guy, and I’m gutted, not because I want her, but because she didn’t want me.

The language of monogamy is the language of faith — and of heresy.

I don’t ask for much. But I’m asking for this.

Angela wasn’t satisfied with my first answer, so here’s my second attempt: sensation and power.

Our monthly roundup of dissolute blogs finds me fascinated and repelled in equal measure by a man’s unapologetic accounts of transactional sex in Amsterdam’s Red Light District.