N. Likes

Club magazine, Playboy, and Color Climax: a prepubescent education in escalation — and the discovery that porn’s real function was never to satisfy hunger, but to activate it.

I struggle with what to do when I admire women’s beauty. Take a picture? Draw a picture? Write a paragraph? Seriously…. what’s a boy to do?

I’ve been snooping around in my analytics again, learning what I can about you.

Twenty minutes, three feet, and not a single glance.

It has, indeed, been too long.

She flirts with me shamelessly, tells me her relationship can’t admit what mine does, and leaves me with nothing but “Damn.”

There are no right answers, but god, it’s fun to learn yours.

Google doesn’t think my name — either of my names — is real.

Thinking someone could just explain away my compulsive sexual behavior was the first of many things I got wrong. The list of things I got wrong is long.