Musing

No fun, in the absence of pleasing.

An interesting take on sex addiction that resonates with me.

I keep finding myself wanted but not needed, or needed but not wanted. You’d think I’d learn to stop arranging it that way.

Chryssie Hynde said something dumb about something dumb she did, and I wish she’d said it better.

My cock is small. This used to torment me, but now I write about it on the internet, which turns out to be a pretty effective cure.

A sex addict meditates on the five hindrances. Guess which one predominates.

What turns me on isn’t what she wants — it’s that she leaves the wanting to me.

Amnesty International moves toward supporting decriminalization, and the opponents tell you everything you need to know about why it’s the right call.

I loiter on her block, phone in hand, one eye on the screen and one on the passers-by, hoping for something I’ve agreed not to pursue.

I used to wear a suit every day, and I never once felt sexy in one — just a fraud in nice wool. Now I only wear them to weddings, funerals, and bar mitzvahs, and I’m happier for it.