I've gotten those remarks before. I've had them from people who email or comment to say that wow! I reel 'em in every time!, and I get them from guys who snidely remark that it seems aw-fully sus-pi-cious that I always score when I go after someone in public.
But it's like I said to someone just yesterday, about a comment on the blog: it just looks like I have a hundred percent success rate in cruising someone and getting in one of their holes quickly, because I only write about the successes.
The failures (unless they're unusually tragic or funny) aren't worth writing about. No one wants to read a blog entry about (true story) how I rode on the train back from Manhattan the other night and made desperate fluttery-eyelashes bedroom eyes at the floppy-haired young businessman playing Angry Birds on his iPad opposite me. The entire entry would read:
I was riding home on the train back from Manhattan the other night and made desperate fluttery-eyelashes bedroom eyes at the floppy-haired young businessman playing Angry Birds on his iPad opposite me all the way. And he was fucking oblivious.
Nobody wants to read that.
Nobody wants to read about the fellow who kept leaning in, and leaning in, closer and closer, over the tables at Cosi when I was eating lunch, who turned out only to want to know what kind of case I had for my iPhone. Nobody wants to hear about the guy I thought was following me on my walk around the local park, who turned out to be looking for his wife and preschool daughter after he'd dropped them off and parked his car. I don't write about the failures because they're mundane and pointless, and because there are so many of them.
But here's the thing: I wouldn't have a single success story to write about if I didn't get out there and give it a shot. Without anything ventured, there wouldn't be sex to gain. For those of you who write me and bemoan the fact that nothing sexy ever happens to you, I ask a simple question: are you doing anything to make it happen? Because the more chances you take—and I understand that it can be scary—the more fun you'll end up having.
Wait for something to drop into your lap, and you'll pass a lifetime in waiting. It's a simple lesson that applies to all areas of our lives, no?
Now let's get to some questions from formspring.me.
Do you think it's easier to find sex in a small town or big city?
Big city. No question.
However, in some cities an oversupply of men wanting to have sex leads to their postponing a decision about with whom to have it, because the chances are good that something better might come along. So while there may be a lot of men hunting for sex in a big city, it can be frustrating to get passed over proportionately many times more.
your last response to the hiv testing and publishing comment, appalled me that some asshole would even ask such a question. so my question to you...doesn't it scare you to know morons are out there?
I was just telling someone yesterday that they would be amazed at the amount of sheer rudeness that I receive on a daily basis. Even though as a percentage, the amount of emails, questions, and comments I receive that's rude and negative is fairly small, it adds up fairly quickly when you consider that I get a lot—a lot!—of readers interacting with me.
But here's the thing. Some people are rude because they want to get a rise out of me. Some people are rude because they have the freedom of internet anonymity keeping their faces hidden.
And some people are rude merely because they're ignorant. They might be rude because they simply don't know any fucking better. They don't even know that they're crossing the boundary and overstepping it.
The people who do it deliberately are assholes. The latter just need to be pitied.
the smile we see of your pic on twitter, is that a reflection of the man behind it? meaning, are you more apt to have a smile rather than a serious look?
I have moments of both. I prefer to go through life smiling; I prefer an optimistic outlook. However, there are times in my life when the smile is social or artificial, whether because I'm buckling down on a serious project, or because I'm not as happy as I'd like to be.
On the whole, though, I think I'm a fairly positive person.
I've been told enough times I have a great smile that I tend to bring it out when I'm trying to seduce or entice someone. Work with your strengths, that's my motto.
If you were faced with the choice of only oral sex or only anal sex for the rest of your life -- which would you choose?
Anal. No question about it.
Do you wish your parents had been aware of your sexcapes when you were younger is your father aware now of your teenage life
Do I wish they'd been aware that I was slutting around? Good god, what teenager wants to be grounded the entire time between middle school graduation and the senior prom?!
My parents wouldn't have reacted badly about the fact that I was looking to have sex, and finding it. They were wise enough to realize that happens. What they would've been concerned about would have been that the time I spent getting fucked was time that could've been better used in filling out my pre-college resumé of extracurriculars.
*Serious question-If I bottom for the 1st time for anal sex, will it be painful to use the bathroom the next day?
Only the top does it right. Serious answer.
Have you had anymore interactions with "the Landscaper" since you last wrote of him? I know those stories have hit a nerve with some readers; given that, at the moment what are your thoughts on sharing these encounters with your readers in the future?
I have had interactions, yes. I haven't written about them in my blog.
I suppose it's kind of a cop-out, but there it is. It seems strange to me that of all the crap I write about, that's the one that gets a couple of nervous nelly commenters going. But frankly, I'm not all that found of the negativity the posts generate that way.