Musing

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 have a couple of superpowers. One, apparently, is empathy.

Interrogating the hydraulics of not being turned on.

Anthony Weiner’s problem wasn’t his cock. It was that nobody in Congress liked him.

I’ll happily spend hours between a woman’s legs, but I can’t let anyone spend fifteen minutes between mine.

Ruts are underrated. Being on different pages — that’s the real problem.

You know what I choose to show you, and almost nothing else.

Among the dozens of women I encountered, what struck me most was the enormous variety — and what that taught me about sex work as a category, not a thing.

We men are like a kid running with scissors: irresponsible and dangerous.