identity

I wear a fitbit, but it doesn’t tell me anything I don’t already know – except when it’s wrong.

Gangbangs don’t turn me on. But I’ve been conjuring one for Margot, and I want a very particular seat at it.

Mostly I feel dead, and both my knees need replacing — then Margot, Jade, and an email from P out of the blue.

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 used to put everything here, no flinching. Now there’s a list of things I won’t confess, and I can feel why.

Meeting women has changed dramatically over the last 15 years — from mass-swiping Tinder to the blog attracting partners organically — and now all avenues have dried up.

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.