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No, I’m not letting a robot write my blog. All those M-dashes are just how the transcription comes out.

Jade will wear anything I buy her, and lingerie sites are a nightmare — so I built my own.

I built myself an infinite porn library, and it’s teaching me more about the future of the internet than anything else I’ve seen in years.

I went out with my old friend Judd — both of us in open marriages — to a lively cocktail bar with the half-joking aim of flirting. We met a group of women at the bar, including one particularly fun blonde, and I reflected on the rarity of having a true wingman and the ongoing question of whether Sydney will call.

I can’t have this fantasy – Margot isn’t available unless I pay. So here are three versions of it anyway.

I’m here for me, not for you — and I mean that in the nicest possible way. Expect more typos.

I’m dictating this on my bike in the drizzle, halfway across the Manhattan Bridge, and it’ll be on the blog before dinner.

I reflect on a conversation with Margot about her unrealized fantasy of double penetration and a gangbang, realizing what excites me isn’t the act itself but the trust she’d place in me to keep her safe while curating such an evening — and the gratitude that might follow.

I wrote this in 2014, and just stumbled on it. Interesting, no? (We never had sex, but she still shows up in my various feeds.)

I was wrong about the questions my kid would ask