Musing

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

Sometimes N goes quiet while the other guy gets busy living. Here’s a chart to prove it.

I’m dominant, sure. But really, I’m just a four-year-old who’s big enough to take what he wants — and would prefer not even to have to ask.

Facebook and Tinder have teamed up to deny me the right to exist anonymously in their ecosystem, and I’m annoyed — even if my dance card is, at the moment, full.

These are just a few of my basic rules for distant buddies – or, if you prefer, online sex partners.

More on intimidation: I’m not intimidating at all, unless you’re inside your own head about the fact that I’ve had a lot of experience getting my cock sucked.

A woman on Tinder tells me I’m intimidating. This is too bad — for both of us.

The word “no” is poison to me — not because I don’t respect your limits, but because I need you to find another way to draw them.

It’s not the transgressive things I’ve done that upset people most — it’s the thoughts I’ve been honest enough to say out loud.

What I mean by “responsive” isn’t what you think I mean.