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Two years of biking to work instead of riding the subway, and this morning I finally saw an ass worth writing about.

I biked home from my 40th high school reunion feeling the same alienation I felt in high school — most of my actual friends weren’t there, and the crowd felt like a different world. I had a few genuinely connected conversations and skipped the after-party, choosing to bike in the night air, and my wife, and scotch, instead.

Yesenia has effortless elegance, always-impeccable style. I wonder what she wears beneath. Everyone should only wear things that make them [feel] hot.

I’m marking the 15th anniversary of my blog, a few months late. What began as exhibitionistic and therapeutic has become a memoir of my inner life through my fifties.

Celeste has a GREAT ass.

A PAWG? Not quite. But almost….

Trump has dampened my libido. What I initially attributed to aging, I now recognize as a response to the horror of the current political moment: it’s hard to summon desire in the middle of a national catastrophe.

I built a custom chatbot. Ask it anything about my life, relationships, or insights. Just know: your conversation isn’t private, the corporate and environmental ethics are messy, and usage is throttled.

Ask N anything!

I’m definitely not saying that I wish Trump had let loose some sort of armageddon on Iran tonight. But. The man is a master of reality TV. And. A total. Fucking. Chickenshit. Sociopath. Pussy.