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A brief meditation on spelling and ejaculation.

A dreaded task, a hard cock, and the rabbit hole between them.

Slowing down here so I can write elsewhere. The blog will still be here. So will I.

She stood me up two nights in a row, and two nights in a row, I let her. This isn’t a complaint about her — it’s an observation about me.

Help me get free porn. You’ll thank me later.

I want to hand my kid my phone without him stumbling on my OKCupid app, my sexts, or my selfies. Is that so much to ask?

A running index of my thoughts on whether sex addiction is real, and whether I have it.

I like looking at people, and Penn Station gives me a way to do it blatantly, unapologetically.

Your mouth has one purpose. It’s not speaking.