Sunday Morning Questions: Big Blackout Edition

So a few of you may have noticed that my blog was offline for an entire day, this week. Actually, a whole hell of a lot of you noticed. I woke up Thursday morning and, as is my habit, grabbed my iPad and started reading my email through the one eye I could blearily open (while the other, and the rest of my face, remained crushed into my bed pillow). That's when I read an email from about two in the morning, my time, from a reader informing me that he couldn't access my blog—had I removed it for good?

My mailbox contained at least a dozen other emails from concerned readers that had trickled in over the night, I noticed when I looked at the subject headings. More than a little concerned, I hopped on over to this site to see what was happening.

If you looked here, Thursday or early Friday, you saw the same thing I did. Just a blank page with the site name across the top—no entries at all, no followers. Only an indication that the blog was maintained by someone other than me. And, if you looked at that guy's profile, it said that he also ran another blog called 'pussyboicumdump.'

What you couldn't see, however, was that on my end of things, everything appeared to be okay. I could log into Blogger, I could see all my entries in the dashboard listing, I could make a quick backup of my posts to supplement the one I'd made at the beginning of the week. Google's so-called 'help' forums (which I didn't find very helpful, by the way) had a mention that a whole bunch of people were reporting issues with missing blogs after the previous night's maintenance, and that everyone should just sit tight until normal service was resumed 'shortly.'

So basically I just sat tight for a little over twenty-four hours, and the blog was back the following day.

But oh my gosh, the hysteria I got from you guys. Some of it was just plain ugly—the I guess you got caught at last! Hah-hah, sucks to be you! kind of emails, or the several emails I got in which guys said that because now my cover was blown that I wrote something called 'pussyboicumdump' that it was OBVIOUS that I was some kind of SCAM ARTIST and that at last they knew the TRUTH that my blog had been FAKE all along.

Which I guess just goes to show that guys will project any negative fantasy they have, whenever they can.

I'm relieved to say, though, the vast majority of the over two hundred messages that came in—and I'm using that phrase to indicate the emails, the social media messages, and the notes guys left on my various hookup site profiles—that most of you were concerned, and worried about me, and worried about not having the blog around. The outpouring of love and support was very, very sweet.

I cannot make a statement that this blog will be around indefinitely. I'll keep writing in it as long as it's fun, and as long as you guys continue to keep making it worthwhile with your comments and emails. If I did close it down, however, I'd be more likely to post a statement and wish everyone well, than simply snatch it down. Furthermore, my blog doesn't violate Blogger's terms of service—I don't have advertising in my blog, nor do I include a lot of photos of which I don't own the copyright—so it's unlikely that they'd yank it.

If they did, I have backups.

But please know that if something happens again, there are ways to get information from me without panicking. You can follow my Twitter feed—or, if you think that Twitter is for egomaniacs who fart out their every little inane thought (and you'd be right, and I do include myself) at least know that I have a Twitter account and am likely to make statements there in the event of a blog outage.

Or you could add me as a friend on Facebook, where I also made a statement about the outage. I know some of you have been reluctant to add me there for some reason or another. But I'm not going to ask you to join my Mafia family. I'm not going to post something on your wall, like Damn boy I want to get up in your fine ass!, for your family to see. It's okay to add me.

And of course it's okay to email me, the way so many of you did. Just know that when I'm getting a couple of hundred emails, my reply is going to be not much more than a cut-and-pasted quote from Google about the outage. Which is what most of you got.

So that's that. One more housekeeping issue, and then we'll get to this week's roundup of questions from formspring.me. I've kept a link on my blog's sidebar to my wishlist at Amazon for pretty much the entire duration of this blog, and some of you have been indulgent enough on occasion to use it. I'm going to remove it at the end of this week for a short spell, until I'm completely moved and at my new address.

Now, don't trip over each other in your mad race to buy me gift cards. I don't want any broken ankles.



Do you let people underestimate you so that you can do the unexpected and tell everyone else.... now what?

Although I am conscious not to oversell myself or my abilities, I don't hide them under a bushel, either. Such calculation is too much wasted energy, in my opinion. I think it's best to be oneself and let one's light shine.


Who would you rather and why? David Tennant or Matt Smith

Oh, both so cute. Matt Smith, probably, because there's something about his rumpled hair and itty-bitty eyes that makes me think he's absolutely adorable.


This might be a redundant question: What do you do if any of your encounters falls for you...? As in, really falls for you...?

The people who've fallen for me in the past tend to come in two different categories. The first consists of those who fall because they've told themselves some romantic story about what they want out of life and love, and I happen either to be there at a propitious time, or fit the stock character they've always envisioned. I'm usually able to tell when that's happening. They get over it quickly enough, once they realize I'm not really that shadowy figment of their imagination.

The other category consists of men who fall for me because we've become close, and gotten to know each other, flaws and all. Usually I fall for them back. Falling in love with someone doesn't mean I rearrange my life, however. It's a lovely feeling, and it means that person is very special to me, but I live in a very real and practical world, not in a romantic world of television and movies.

I suppose there might be a third category of people who've fallen for me and I've never known. I am not sure what to do, if anything, about them. It seems sad to love and not tell of it. Patience on a monument, smiling at grief, and all that.


Is there a piece of music that you play when you're getting romantic?

No. I really dislike music when I'm getting busy. I find it distracting.


What would you do if your favorite celebrity crush walked up to you and said, "Excuse me, but does this smell like chloroform to you?"

I'd say, "Why, I don't know, let me sniff it!" and then position myself over his lap.


If you were a candy bar what would you be?

Mr. Goodbar. Or possibly Nutrageous.


How important is your partner’s penis size to you? Why?

On the list of things I look for in a sexual partner, dick size is pretty far down toward the bottom. Dick attractiveness, however, is a fairly big consideration. I'd rather pick a beautiful-looking smaller cock than one that is large, but oddly-proportioned, or just plain ugly. And there are a lot of ugly dicks out in the wild.

When I used to bottom, I preferred dicks with girth more than dicks with length. Ultimately, though, I've usually been more interested in the overall sexiness of the man to which the penis is attached, than the meat itself.

Usually. Not always.


I don't know if somebody else ask you that question but, what do you do to stay so fit and looking so young. I have a little bit of weight to loose, not a lotbut the little belly bugs me. Thank you.

I appreciate the compliment. All I really do is watch what I eat. For exercise, I do a lot of walking in warmer months and yoga when it's cold.

But other than bathing in the blood of virgins, that's it.


If you could have anything in the world right now what would it be? and please dont answer "cock in my _____"

I think my answer could be summed up rather simply with these words: less uncertainty. And reunion.


If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?

With my family.


Have you ever been to Felch, Michigan? Has Felch, MI ever been to you?

I've visited Felch a number of times. It just wasn't a city in Michigan.


Have you met with or heard from Topher since your Earl days?

I haven't really finished that story to my satisfaction, but the basic answer is no, I haven't.


Have you seen the pictures from the USC Kappa Sigma Scandal? Do you have any thoughts on them?

I did see those. I found them highly arousing. That guy had a slammin' body.

I'm not sure I get what the scandal is, though. Are we really supposed to be shocked that fraternity guys and sorority gals are having sex? I'm pretty sure the frat boy isn't ashamed of those photos.


What did you want to be when you grew up?

I was very determined to be an Egyptologist at one point. When I took anthropology in college, however, I disliked it and abandoned that dream in a hot second.


Have you ever done anything sexual in front of others? What did you do and where?

Goodness gracious, the very idea! I am a naturally modest soul who would never dare do anything sexual in front of others!

Well, on network TV, anyway. I've probably done it everywhere else at this point.