I filled the box with the tissue paper and inserted the dildo (NYE 2010)

Just like last year, Med School Mess and her roommates hosted a NYE party on the Almost East Side (because the Upper East Side ends at 96th St). To celebrate the end of the decade (yes, we know that the decade actually includes 2010, but just go with it), the theme was "iLove the Aughties!" Guests were encouraged to dress in trends from 2000-2009.

Since the invite went out so early, I had a good month and a half to figure out what the fuck I was gonna wear, but for whatever reason, I couldn't come up with anything good, especially after the inclimate weather ruled out my knock-off Uggs. And then it hit me like an 8:30am alarm after going to bed at 5 (a situation with which I was intimately familiar that day). My idea was SO aughties, and chances were slim-to-none that someone else would try to pull it off.

I ran to Duane Reade for wrapping and tissue paper and to a local sex shop for a dildo. I spent the last hour of my morbidly slow half work day wrapping a box I'd snatched from our office's box graveyard. When the wrapping was complete, I filled the box with the tissue paper and inserted the dildo.

After a strategically long disco nap, I cut two holes in the box and looped my studded belt into them (so aughties!), attaching the box to my hips. I finished off my look with a tshirt on which I wrote “Step 1” and “Step 2” with checked boxes and “Step 3” with an unchecked box.

Still don’t get it?

On the way to MSM's, I stopped at a liquor store. You know, the kind with the bullet-proof glass where the attendant has to slide your bottle through a maze while you pay through a hole under the glass just big enough to fit 3 fingers (god help if you have change). I was going to get my trusty Sobieski vodka, but just as I was about to order, I saw a label that said double-proof vodka.

Oh. Yes.

I decided I’d to commute with my outfit, which was uneventful. But I couldn’t sit down, and I’m sure that poor woman sitting on the M96 bus didn’t appreciate my dick-box next to her face.

When I arrived at Med School Mess’s, I couldn’t get over the awesome aughties decorations!

Stuff I hadn’t thought about since it actually happened!

Med School Mess: “I have to get a mug shot of you.”

Me: “Huh?”

MSM: “First room on the left.”

They had converted a bedroom into a mug-shot studio!

I felt so famous!

(And tall.)

Once again, we had to put “Single Ladies” to rest (but you and I both know they’ll be doing it at Pieces next week), and we gave new life to the “Bad Romance” choreography. Because when 5 drunk gays do any dance, it takes on a life of its own.

(PS those two songs came out a year apart [within a couple of weeks]... is October the official month to make a big gay splash in music?!)

Midnight came, and I felt significantly more sober than I was the year before (since that wasn’t at all disastrous or messy), so I figured that would be a good time to break out the double-proof vodka. I remember making 2 drinks before we left for Vig 27.

You may ask, “Why Vig 27?” Or even “Where the hell is Vig 27?” And that’s exactly why I suggested it as our after-party. It was convenient to the party (Gramercy, so we didn’t need to transfer on the train) but not to hoards of gays. They weren’t charging a cover, and they had $5 drink specials (rather than their usual $9 drinks). My logic: it’s relatively unknown, so it was less likely to be ridiculously crowded.

I wish I could tell you whether or not it was a good choice, but the only thing I remember from Vig 27 is Bottomless Pitt getting the rest of her stamps on her buy-10-drinks-get-5-free. She gave me a mojito.

I remember walking out of VIG 27 with Bottomless Pitt after they closed (or when we got bored?) to go to Posh for their 24-hour party. Out of nowhere, Med School Mess was bawling. Something about losing her brand new glasses and not being able to keep it together. This year, Bottomless Pitt was the one standing aside, and I was the one doing the comforting. We must have been on that street corner for 20 minutes or before we finally sent her uptown.

As we crossed 5^th Ave, my box fell off. I kicked it and kept walking.

I stayed at Posh by myself for way too long. Duplex was having a party at his place that started at 1, but he wasn’t picking up his phone.

And when I woke up the next day with my clothes and boots still on, I thought my alarm clock was joking when it said 2:40. I’d obviously missed the 2:30 invitation to drunk brunch (how the hell?!), so I quietly recovered in my apartment until around 5:30, joining the rest of the crew at Pieces.

Seriously, I walked into Pieces (my head still spinning) and 7 people at the other end of the bar screamed my name in unison.

Things that may or may not have happened after:

• my lining up of $2 drinks on the bar to catch up/take advantage of happy hour

• our doing the “Bad Romance” dance 3 times

• Med School Mess’s admitting to having left his new glasses at his apartment (just like that damned scarf last year)

• Med School Mess’s real-time, drunken misplacement of her coat

• Bottomless Pitt’s and my taking this as a sign that MSM didn’t need to come with us to the house party we’d been invited to

• our doing the “Bad Romance” dance again at said house party

• my making out with the host’s ex (but only after sitting next to him on the couch and casually asking, “Hey, do you wanna make out some?”)

Did I mention the hour and change I spent at Rite Aid in Hell’s Kitchen charging my phone and fucking with people who where still on Grindr at 4am? Yeah.

Click here to check out the Black and White Party from last year's NYE.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.

Photos borrowed from jordanmountainfarm.com and uglypeoplephotos.com

How To: Gay Online Dating and Hook Ups (Part 3)

So, you've picked the website(s) and/or app(s) that work for you, and you've considered your profile pics with care. If you haven’t figured it out by now, your online dating or hookup profile should have a specific goal and target audience, and every element should be aimed at working towards that.

Once someone sees your carefully considered primary picture, it’s possible that they will read your profile text. I don’t say likely, but it’s a definite possibility (hint: think about how you stalk friends of friends on Facebook). And unless you’re looking for totally anonymous sex (which is a valid goal), the people you are most likely to want to talk to will have at least skimmed your profile.

I’ll mention that a clever screenname can be of value, especially with starting conversation. Hell, I’ve started a few conversations by “loving your screenname!” But most screennames don’t make much sense to anyone but the user. My one piece of advice is not to use your age (it changes every year, dummy) or the current year (see above). The same also goes for swimwear (look down, Aussiebum!).

Most sites give you the option of a headline. [Insert witty headline] was cute in college. No, I mean, back when I was in college. Stop doing it. Unless you think of something incredibly witty or cute, a standard phrase of greeting or encouragement to contact is acceptable. Or state exactly what you’re looking for: e.g., “Tight hole seeking seed.” See, that one even had alliteration (FTW)!

Many sites give you an “about me” section with a character limit (like A4A and Manhunt… Grindr is very limited), and some give you free reign to put maps of where you’ve traveled, YouTube Videos, and animated emoticons. What you say here is really up to you, but there are a few basic rules that you should use to guide you.

Keep it brief. Use bullet points or short sentences. When you’re getting home from the bar at 2am after 14 drinks, do you really want to decipher long paragraphs and compoud-complex sentences? Neither do we.

Don’t give it all away. You have a cat? Mention that (I’m allergic, so I’d probably know to skip over you invite you to my place). Your cat’s name, adventures, and personality type: not so important. Again, if you have something specific in mind (bondage fantasy involving a pierced leather daddy, a sling, and night stick), you may want to give a few details, but consider using this phrase: “if this interests you email me for more details.”

Keep it positive. I think it’s pretty safe to say that people prefer finding that they have qualities that you like rather than making sure they don’t have qualities that you won’t tolerate. Sure, everyone has deal breakers. But emphasizing what you’re into is much more effective and will make people you actually want to talk to more likely to reach out to you. And there’s no shame in responding, “Hey, thanks, but I don’t think we’re a match.” I guarantee you’re rejection won’t devastate the recipient half as much as you think it will.

Checking boxes. Many sites and apps have boxes to be checked and blanks to be filled in for age, weight, build, etc. The most important thing about these blanks and boxes are searches. Guys may do a search for 30-40 year olds 5’6” to 5’10” weighing 120-160 with slim or muscular builds who are vers/tops and into leather. And if you haven’t checked the boxes or filled in those blanks in your profile, you’re not going to pop up in that search. These boxes also help guys looking at your profile to see what you look like (say, if you're not showing your body shape in your pics) and what you’re into (if you don’t find a smooth way to work "fisting and poppers" into your “about me” text). Just don’t lie. I’ve heard guys say that they’ll change their age to 29 so that they don’t get left out of the under-30 searches. But if someone’s that hung up on age, do you really want to give them your time/attention? And on the other side, no one likes to be lied to.

Abbrevs. Due to strict character limits, there are a number of abbreviations that are part of the online dating and hookup lexicon, and you may find yourself a bit lost without them.

420 = weed, grass, marijuana, etc.

BB = Bareback (no condoms)

BF = boyfriend
D&D free = Drug and Disease free (yeah, right... PS, under no circumstances should you reference Dungeons and Dragons. Not just online. Ever.)

FB = Fuck Buddy (varies, but usually friends with benefits or a booty call)

LTR = Long Term Relationship

NEG = HIV Negative

NSA = No Strings Attached (i.e., no relationship at all, pump ‘n dump, probably because they’re already in an LTR)

PNP = Party ‘n Play (meth, Tina, etc... came about because Manhunt flags mentions of meth in profiles)

POZ = HIV Positive

UB2 = You Be Too (i.e., they’re looking for their clone)

VGL = Very Good Looking

I’m sure there are a few that I’ve missed, and I'm sure your fellow readers will be quick to correct me. So check out the comments section for more.

When you're done, you want to step back and make sure your profile is doing what you want it to do. Try to see it as someone who knows nothing about you. Step back and ask, “If I saw this profile, would I email him/respond to his email?” If you want guys to start conversations with you, put some conversation starters that they can comment on in your text. If you’re looking for a hung uncut top to meet tonight, say so!

And please spell/grammar check! There’s nothing wrong with cutting and pasting into Word to make sure everything checks out. And have a friend take a look at your profile. You know, the friend that will tell you, “Bitch, you look like a psycho,” if you do.

This is Part 3 of a multi-part how-to series.

Click here for Part 1.

Click here for Part 2.

Click here for Part 4.

Click here for Part 5.

Photos borrowed from manhunt.net, adam4adam.com, and cafepress.com

Morehead and I met on Grindr (Williamsburg Holiday Party 2009)

Bologna was hosting her annual holiday get together in Williamsburg, so I grabbed a bottle and hopped on the L train.

I arrived to a plethora of festive activity.

"I don't think the Virgin Mary wore heels..." She was definitely serving us more Mary Magdaline.

Morehead was present with the new boy situation, and I ran into the two of them as I was mixing my first drink.

Me: "I knew I should have brought some orange juice!"

Morehead: "yeah, but they have this no-sugar-added cranberry..."

Me: "Damnit! I hate diet cranberry!"

Boy Situation (slurring): "But that's good. It won't make you fat."

Me (pulling up Grindr): "How dare you! Honey, I'm in no danger of getting fat before I'm 40. Have you seen my beach pictures?! Thanks, parents!"

Boy Situation: "You know, Morehead had such a cute picture on Grindr. That's how we met."

Me: "Oh, I'm quite familiar with her Grindr photo [along with the rest of the tri-state area]!"

The Boy Sit, who had obviously been trying to keep up with Morehead's Ivy-League-Crew-et-al drinking for the night, fumbled through a partial description said photo, and I finished describing it, saying: "...yes, I saw that one before it got on Grindr."

It was when I left out the part about one of Morehead's tricks being the photographer that I realized I needed a stronger drink. As I was mixing, Dirty Sanchez came up for a double kiss.

Me: "Who was that WOOF-able guy you were just talking to?"

Dirty Sanchez: "Oh, [name]? Yeah, he's a total sweetheat. And so is his boyfriend: the one next to him."

Me: "Of course, the first two guys I chek out are here together... Oh my god, Bro Vandecamp changed into boyclothes! I almost didn't recognize her out of drag!"

And if the people weren't gay enough (did you not see the custom-couture Barbie topping the tree!), the party's soundtrack included Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" (twice), Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas" (twice) and a volume of Glee in its entirety.

I'd invited Grrber, but he couldn't make it (dude, BK Heights to Bushwick E. Williamsburg is, like, walking distance, right?). However, certain boy in his 20s, whom I had met once before, started to get very friendly with me. It wasn't until we were walking to Sugarland that I realized that his friendliness corelated directly with his drunkenness. Not a fan.

This boy and I spent a while dancing, and I eventually got to my use-it-or-lose-it point.

Me: "I'm gonna head out. Do you live in Manhattan?"

Him: "I live in Chelsea."

Me: "Ok... Well I live in Washington Heights. You're welcome to join me if you like."

Him: "Well... have to... brother's place... [blah blah blah, I should have stopped feeling you up an hour ago.]"

Did I mention how much I HATE the ride back uptown from Williamsburg?! Yeah.

Click here to check out last year's Williamsburg holiday party.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.

Photo borrowed from Bologna's Facebook profile.

passing said bottle around before we approached Splash's entrance (Kim Zolciak does "Tardy for the Party" at Splash NYC)

Kim Zolciak was scheduled to perform at Splash for Campus Thursdays! I started off at TTT's new HK apartment. He'd mentioned that a guy he'd hooked up with from Grindr before he moved, and apparently, this guy lived in his new building. The guy actually texted TTT that he was on his way home, so TTT invited him to our pregame.

Meanwhile, I was toting a small bottle of a ginger drink that a cousin had given me the weekend before. I'd tasted a sip from his thermos, and it was pure spicy deliciousness! He'd mentioned that people seem to like it with vodka, so I decided to test his theory. I mixed the concoction with a tad less vodka than I usually do. To tell you the truth, I really couldn't taste the vodka at all! TTT and MicHELLe agreed that it was an amazing drink.

About a third of the way through the drink, my eyes started to tear up, and my throat got to burning! I was in an awkward position because I had arrived late, and we wanted to get to Splash before midnight. But I could barely swallow this drink. And I sure as hell wasn't trying to spend money on drinks if I didn't have to! This was obviously a casual sipping cocktail and not a pregaming-binge drink. I finally gulped down the rest of the drink and managed to fit in two very strong screwdrivers before we hopped a cab downtown (with a Gatorade bottle in hand, of course).

And yes, we were the sketchy guys you passed on 6th ave passing said bottle around before we approached Splash's entrance.

TTT had the next day off, so naturally she was belligerently drunk a bit tipsy. She wandered off as soon as we got into the club. None of us saw where she ran off to, so we headed for coat check.

When we got back upstairs, Erika Jayne was on stage. I'd seen on Facebook that she was the opening act, but I wasn't at all surprised at the hour plus gap between her performance and Kim Z's. We strategically placed ourselves in the middle of the crowd, which sucked when I had to go to the bathroom. I'm not sure about MicHELLe (5’8 in heels), but I had a great view of the performances (because she did the same song twice).

Apparently she and Big Papa are done, and she’s “very much in love” with another person of hidden identity. As she said, “Who says it’s a he?!” And, of course, she and Nene are back on good terms!

As soon as she stepped off stage, MicHELLe grabbed my arm and motioned towards downstairs. I looked at my phone: 2:07am. FML.

After dancing til 3-and-change, MicHELLe picked up a boy whom she was trying to get to come to Hell's Kitchen to grab food. As expected, the friend had no interest in grabbing food. Then again, judging from her build, she had quite a bit of interest in food, but no interest in going to HK. The one MicHELLe was going after jumped out of the cab soon after her friend did. Here’s a learning moment for everyone. The problem with this situation was that the trick was with her friend. If a trick doesn’t give his friend the 86, he’s not coming come with you. So when we sat down at Cosmic Diner, MicHELLe treated herself to the following.

That's her iPhone she's holding. I'll give you 3 guesses as to what app she's on right now.

Did I mention how much waking up for work on Friday sucked?! Yeah.

Did you miss Part 2 of my How To on Online Dating and Hook Ups? Click here to check it out.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.

Photos borrowed from Grindr and cdn.picapp.com.

How To: Gay Online Dating and Hook Ups (Part 2)

Now that you’ve picked a website, you have to figure out how to talk to guys. Pretty much any website will prompt you to fill out a profile before you start messaging all the hotties signed on. The text of your profile is what comes next chronologically, but my years of online, er… activity have taught me that the primary picture is the most important thing about your profile. And here’s why…

Most sites have a layout that displays a grid or list of primary profile photos, perhaps including a screenname and basic stats. While it’s great to have clever, informative, thought-provoking text in your profile, that’s not gonna make me pick your profile while scrolling through my 5^th page of a grid of 20 profiles. This is essential to keep in mind when picking a primary picture.

We’ve touched on figuring out what you’re looking for, and that’s just as important when selecting a primary picture. If you’re looking to attract a boyfriend, maybe a pic of your ass isn’t the best move. And if you work at an ultra-conservative firm, posting a face pic for everyone to see may not serve you well. What kind of first impression do you want to make, and what type of attention are you seeking?

One popular (and the most catchily named) option is the dick pic. Most guys who choose this as their primary photo are either putting their best foot forward (sometimes, that's the best thing a guy has going) or are looking solely for sex. There are a few ways to get the most out of a dick pic. Slouching in a chair gives the illusion of exaggerated size by playing with perspective (i.e., your stomach is farther away from your dick, so it looks bigger… and longer if you slouch enough to make your belly button lower or if you snap the photo from a slightly lower angle). Grabbing the base of your dick can provide some perspective (especially if you have small hands), and a tight grip will constrict blood flow, giving you a bit more girth. Also, many find it effective to compare their dicks to familiar objects such as Time Warner Cable remotes (or whatever cable company dominates your region) or beer cans. Hint: Red Bull cans are about the same length as beer/soda cans, and they’re slimmer.

Butt pics are almost as popular and come in many more varieties (standing, bending over, one leg up, straddled, spread apart with hands, legs over the head, from straight on, from the side, at an angle, from above, from below, etc.). The only advice I have here is that “bubble butt” is a much more frequently used term on hook-up sites than “pancake ass,” so be realistic about your butt pic.

Torso shots are most prevalent on certain sites. If you wanna show off your pierced nipples, your tattoos, your hairy physique, your muscular chest, your 6-pack, your moobs, your sagging gut, etc., this is your route. While I have seen some profiles seeking friends and Long Term Relationships (AKA, LTRs), they mostly give the impression of looking for a physical connection. Many profiles opt for the torso + dick shot, but I caution you not to put your face and body in the same shot. It’s way too easy to take screenshots, and the very recognizable picture could end up somewhere you weren’t expecting.

Whether you show your dick, butt, torso, or face (or feet, or calves, or the inside of your bicep with just a peek of pit hair showing), just keep in mind that the point is to get guys to click on your profile and see if they like what they see, which brings us to secondary pictures. It may be important to have a variety and balance of secondary pictures to show that this really is you and not some picture you stole from someone else’s profile. I tend to assume that someone’s worst picture is probably the closest to what they look like in real life, so if they have 5 great pictures and one butt-ugly one, I’d be much less likely to make contact than if someone has 5 consistently decent pictures. And really, what use is having 7 pictures of your faceless torso from the same angle?

Whether or not to show a face pic is a major part of one’s profile. I can’t count the number of profiles that say something to the effect of, “Don’t message me without a face pic.” Many of the headless remedy this by saying, “Have face pics in my locked pictures,” or “Just ask.” And I’ve seen at least a few profiles that state that they’re not even willing to email a face pic. Just keep in mind that you don’t have to be a member of most websites to see profiles (especially if some prick sends someone a direct link to your profile).

Things to avoid. Low-quality pictures, though a gritty body pic with the right lighting can make one look significantly more defined. A messy/tacky background. Seriously, there are websites devoted to making fun of this (luriddigs.com), so keep it simple and go for a blank wall if you have one. And for god’s sake, Windex that mirror before you snap your pic! You never know where it will end up (see if you can find my photo on guyswithiphones.com… I def did NOT submit it!). Using pics that aren’t you. You’re not dealing with people face-to-face, but that doesn’t mean you’re not dealing with real people. Dishonesty doesn’t look good on anyone.

Private pics are more or less your call. But keep in mind that an opening message by itself will have a different impact than an opening message accompanied a private picture being unlocked, even if it's G-rated.

This is Part 2 of a multi-part how-to series.

Click here to check out Part 1.

Click here to check out Part 3.

Click here to check out Part 4.

Click here to check out Part 5.

Photos borrowed from Grindr, adam4adam.com and manhunt.net.

That’s the last time I RSVP with my middle name (a question of perceived race at a Splash Bar Club NYC)

Between 5-Foot 8x6’s retirement from bartending and Dougie Meyer’s open-bar party at Splash, it was quite the Saturday the Ivy League Crew et al. had planned. I was late meeting the boys at Pieces, but 5-Foot 8x6 made me a drink strong enough to make sure I didn’t feel left behind. It was quite busy, so I didn’t get to talk to 5-Foot 8x6 very much. I’m gonna miss his “I’m a virgin!” and “I’m a power top!” and “Hoooooooneeeeeeyyyyyyyyyy!” squeals. They’d better get someone ridiculously fun or ridiculously hot to replace him!

A few of us (MicHELLe, Bootycua, and Bronx Newbie) wandered off to get dinner at Tue around the corner (highly recommended… FYI, it’s BYO!) and after, we stopped by Stonewall (the Stonewall from the riots... you must click on that link if that doesn't ring a bell) to pass some time before the open bar started 11. During this time, I noticed some very obvious physical affection between Bootycua and Bronx Newbie. Did I mention Bootycua was supposed to go on a date with MicHELLe the next week? Awkward!

We finally got to Splash a little after 11, and as usual, we were tossed around at the door from person to person until we finally reached the guy with the list (on a computer). I ran into Dougie Meyer just before I got the list guy.

Me: “Hey, dude!”

Dougie: “Hey, man. You RSVPed to the John Blair email, right?”

Me: “Just like your invite said!”

A bouncer walked up, grabbing 3 wristbands.

List Guy: “Hey! I have to account for those!”

Bouncer: “Well, tell them I took them.”

The two of them laughed to each other before the List Guy turned to me.

Him: “What’s your last name?”

Me: “[Name]”

Him: “Okay, I don’t have you on here. What’s your email address?”

Me: “[Email, spelled out]”

Him: “Nope, I don’t have you.”

Me: “That’s really weird. I RSVPed to the John Blair email on Dougie’s invite. I really should be on the list.”

Him: “Wait, who are you with?”

Me: “Dougie. He’s the one who invited me. I should be on his list.”

Him, handing me a ticket: “Here you go.”

Me: “Thanks. But does this get me the open bar?”

Him: “No, that’s just a comp admission.”

Me: “I’m supposed to be on the VIP list for open bar!”

Him: “Well I don’t have you here.”

Me, walking away: “Fine.”

MicHELLe: “Whatever, we’ll just shuttle drinks to you.”

Me: “Thanks.”

For Dougie’s birthday a few months back, you got comp drinks anywhere upstairs with a wristband, but for this party, there was a designated VIP area for which one needed a wristband for entry. So I was literally left outside, excluded in the most blatant of ways.

TTT: “Hey, you didn’t get a wrist band?”

Me: “No! And I fucking cut and pasted the email address from Dougie’s invite as soon as I got it to RSVP! I’m telling you: they probably saw the name Kareem and did some ‘demographics shifting.’”

TTT: “Wow! I got KennyKennyKenny a wristband, and he wasn’t even on the Facebook invite.”

Me: “KennyKennyKenny is white and cute. It doesn’t work like that for us. Whatevs, that's just the way it goes.”

TTT: “Oh, come on. Do you have the email? We should at least try.”

I pulled up the email on my iPhone as we made our way across the dance floor and towards the door. But at Splash, they yell at you for going out of the entrance door. I went out the exit door, but the side of the foyer that the entrance is on was roped off from the side with the exit. As I walked out and tried to cut around to go back into the entrance door (keep in mind, all these areas are within about a 5’x10’ space), the bouncer at the exit door gave me shit.

Me: “Can I just go talk to the door man?”

Him: “[Name] out here is the door man.”

Me: “I mean the guy inside here with the list.”

Him: “Oh. Okay, go ahead.”

Me, flashing the iPhone: “Hi, I actually found the email I sent to John Blair yesterday to be put on the VIP list.”

List Guy, looking at the message: “That’s to John Blair. I need the email from John Blair.”

Me: “Well, I never got an email from John Blair. But you can see the date on this one. I clearly sent it to the correct address yesterday afternoon, and I’m sure the list wasn’t closed by then!”
Him: "Well, I need to see a confirmation email.”

Me to TTT: “Right. Of course. That’s the last time I RSVP with my middle name.”

When we joined the rest of The Crew on the dance floor, everything just seemed to get on my nerves. MicHELLe and I excused ourselves to the downstairs bar where they tend to play more of the music we like. As soon as I heard the first 3 seconds of Ciara’s “Work”, my drink was gone, and I was ready to ignore the bullshit that happened at the door and have a good night! I even got a chance to give my favorite Splash bartender a wink. My Victor doesn't need his name spelled across his delightfully pillow-like ass for me to pick him out of the crowd. I wonder if he's started making more tips since Jersey Shore started...

When MicHELLe and I came back upstairs for air another drink, TTT was making out with some blonde with a mowhawk. Bottomless Pitt saw us and charged out of the VIP pen shirtless. She planted her feet, did her signature phantom hair toss and cracked up: “I’m so drunk!”

Then she saw TTT and her trick: “Why don’t you two go home!” Two drinks later, we were downstairs, and she was making out with some trick from her past.

I had run into The Sexican, who was the center of her clique’s attention (as always). I danced with them for a while until I ran into the Brazilian guy I’d gone home with after the En Vogue concert in May. Did I mention we hadn’t hooked up since that night? Not for lack of trying on his part. I’d actually seen him earlier getting dragged in the other direction, but this time he was alone. He asked me how my night was going, and I filled him in on the previous happenings. Why did he produce a wrist band from his pocket?!

Damn right I took it! But when he tried to lure me to the East Village with him, I had to let him know that there was no way in hell that was happening.

By the time I found the boys again, Bottomless Pitt had been making out with that trick from his past for almost an hour (the irony was killing me [and I...]!).

MicHELLe and I left at the same time, and she insisted we go to Cafeteria (the sceniest place in Chelsea after 3am… celeb sightings are not-so-rare there) for some mac and cheese with bacon. Of course, I’m still lactose intolerant, so went with something breakfast-y. They were blasting the pop music, so, as expected, MicHELLe and I were singing along. I was facing the wall, and Michelle was facing the scene. There happened to be a cute white guy and his “girlfriend” at the table next to us. As they got up to leave, MicHELLe said, “Yes… I would let him put in IN!”

The guy heard her.

The beard heard her.

Our server heard her.

I couldn’t even see their reactions or that they had heard MicHELLe, but her tragic reaction told everything. Both of us unleashed a shamefully unrestrained fit of laughter.

MicHELLe: “I am so sorry! I didn’t know I was that loud!”

Server: “Babe, moments like that are the best part of my job!”

On our way out, MicHELLe swore she saw Lady Gaga sitting down across the dining room.

Me: “Bitch. That’s just some mildly attractive bleach-blonde with an entourage. Did you look at her face! Okay, that’s not fair: the last thing you notice about Lady Gaga is her face. But I’m 99% sure that’s not she.”

The next day, I sent Dougie Meyer and email stating (much more succinctly) what had happened the night before, expressing that I believed it was Splash’s wrong-doing rather than his. I basically told him I wasn’t trying to whine, only to inform him about what happened at the party with his name on it. It took a few days, but he did respond, saying he’d look into the matter. And nothing may come of it, but if it’s a pattern, people will definitely take notice.

Did I mention that that was the first Sunday in forever that I actually got a full night’s rest (Thanks to spending the evening with Grrber)? Yeah.

Click here to check out what happens when I make the first move on a guy.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.

Photos borrowed from thewordwarrior.wordpress.com, Jblair.com, tanbou.com, yesjapan.com, joesdaily.com, towleroad.com

How To: Gay Online Dating and Hook Ups (Part 1)

The world of online dating can be quite intimidating. Everyone seems to be on one site or another (whether they admit it or not). But how does one get started? How does one decide whom to talk to and, eventually, meet in person? Well, my 8 years in the world of online dating and hook-ups (!!!) have produced hilarious stories, awkward situations, and emails that made me say, “Did he really just say that?”

The first thing to do is to decide what it is you’re looking for. Do you want anonymous hook ups? Fuck buddies? A boyfriend (people have actually met their boyfriends online)?

I find that there are always exceptions to rules, and I believe that one should cast one’s net as widely as possible before narrowing down possibilities. But each website has a different target and creates a unique scene.

Manhunt

The most mainstream of hook-up sites in the American Northeast. Either you pay or you deal with restricted viewing of profiles and restricted messaging. If you only had 10 exchanges with someone, you’d be a) more selective with your choices and b) more efficient with your communication (get to the fucking point!). Some of my friends and I joke that our lack of success with meeting up with or even talking to guys on MH is solely because we're not white (that's not totally true). Premium membership ranges from 7 days ($7) to a year ($99).

Adam4Adam

This website recently upped the number of pictures members can post on their profiles (the previous restriction used to be the most obvious disadvantage over Manhunt). I’ve found that A4A’s target in NYC tends to be more black and Latino, but that varies (I feel like I got much less attention in WeHo [West Hollywood, Los Angeles]). This site also gives you an animated graphic and an unmistakable tone when you get a message. All features are free.

Grindr

One would think this iPhone app (Blackberry and Droid versions are rumored to be in the works) would be mostly for hooking up since it shows the distance of each user (optional), but because of the Apple App Store's terms, the pictures are heavily regulated. So you won’t see the dick pics or Lincoln-Tunnel hole shots that you will on Manhunt or A4A, but the key feature here is the instant messaging (and you can send your nasty pics in the messaging interface). Also, there's no top/vers/bottom blank to fill out. A green dot on one’s profile means that one is readily available to communicate and respond. It’s still unclear what a profile that shows up without a green dot means (does he have his phone locked but the app running?). Many profiles say they’re just looking for friends. At least that’s what they’re telling their boyfriends. While Grindr lets you see up to 100 guys (free), Grindr X lets you see up to 200 guys and has no ads ($2.99/mo).

Gaydar

The profiles on this site read almost like a blend of Manhunt and Facebook, asking each member for role and dick size in one section and favorite bars and books in another. I find Gaydar to be more skewed towards guys who want to date because the profile gets more personal. This is actually the website where I met SoHo Crush (my longest relationship so far). Premium membership gives users access to message history, unlimited messaging, and seeing who’s viewed their profiles and ranges from a 3-day trail ($5.95) to a year ($89.95).

BigMuscle

This site is more about showing off than hooking up (though that does happen, too), and new members have to be approved by the web masters before making a profile. There’s no top/vers/bottom blank, and most members don't include it in their "about me" sections. The front page is a random assortment of profile pics, and rolling over these pics will give you basic info for regular users and a blown up pic with info for premium members. Premium membership ($40 for a year, the cheapest I've seen so far among websites) entitles members to unlimited messaging, more profile customization, and a number of other features . Members can also pay to have their main picture appear in prime position on the home page for a day.

Real Jock

The focus of this site is about building community around fitness. This site also has no top/bottom/vers blank (though it does have blanks for safer sex preference and HIV status). Users have the option of posting private photos or having an “adult photo” section that’s public but behind a separate tab. The site focuses on workout plans and user forums. From what I can see, you can send as many messages as you want, view as many profiles and pictures as you want, and see who viewed your profile… all for free!

Other sites I’ve used include gay.com (haven’t logged on in at least 3 years), GBC Live (Gay Black Chat… kind of like MySpace), DaddyHunt (love the concept of the “daddy” and “hunter” labels, just didn’t find many guys I was into), Dlist (also like MySpace… just didn’t do it for me), BoyAhoy (an iPhone app and website… just didn’t seem to have much clientele).

Keep in mind that most of these sites will provide you with an external link to a profile. This means that you don't have to be a member to see a member's profile.

This is the first of a multi-part how-to series.

Click here to check out Part 2.

Click here to check out Part 3.

Click here to check out Part 4.

Click here to check out Part 5.

Click here to check out a Fun with Grindr post.

This post was partly inspired by a fellow blogger. Click here to check out Lucas' post: "The MENu"

So Happy I Could Die (a hook-up intervention and Jersey Trash)

I had little to do on post-turkey Saturday, and I had a taste for fried catfish. Earlier in the week, I'd found a place called Piece of Chicken in midtown that could satisfy this craving, so I gave MicHELLe a holler. Turns out I was late (stupid A running local), so we ended up getting there just in time to see the last guy locking up the restaurant.

No big deal because MicHELLe had a plethora of leftovers from Thanksgiving, and they were good as HELL (just like the caps in her name)! TTT took a break from moving into his new Hell's Kitchen apartmet to join us, which was great because MicHELLe and I felt it was about time for an intervention.

Me: "So you know you have to stop hooking up with guys in HK, right?"

TTT: "What do you mean?"

Me: "Well, think about how many HK boys love Therapy as much as you do. I mean, you already run into past hook ups all the time, and you didn't even live here. Upper West Side: cool. East Village: cool. HK: trouble! And it's only gonna get worse."

MicHELLe nodded in agreement. TTT laughed, but hopefully she took my words to heart.

(Oh, who am I kidding: TTT's awkward hook-up run-ins are some of my favorite stories!)

After quite a bit to drink, we made our way down to Pieces to meet the rest of The Ivy League Crew et al. On the way down, MicHELLe revealed that her favorite Fame Monster song was "So Happy I Could Die," which I didn't understand at all, but to each her own.

And speaking of Lady G, for every time the DJ at Pieces played "Bad Romance", TTT made out with (at least) 2 guys. Around 2, MicHELLe and I were ready for a change of scene, but Bottomless Pitt reminded us that The Eagle has a $10 cover on Saturdays (how the hell does she know!).

TTT's drinking caused her bravery to be inversely proportional to her subtlety... so much so that sipping from the straw of the drink I had in my hand. "Oh hell no! Not after you done made out with 12 guys tonight! You gon' give me everybody's mono! Fuck that; I'm getting a new straw." Did I mention that I absolutely love how audible everything becomes in the lull between songs.

We stayed at Pieces until they kicked us out, and MicHELLe and I went to Karavas, where she paired two slices of sausage pizza the size of her head with a diet Snapple. Only she didn't realize til halfway through the bottle (the two-serving bottle... Read your labels!) they gave her a regular Snapple instead.

"Oh my god! 'So happy I could DIE(t)!'"
(Which verbalized more like, "Die... et!")

That's when I looked over and noticed the Jersey Trash* next to us. And the former jock of the group was wearing a Harvard tshirt. It was too easy.

Me: "Hey, what year did you graduate?"

Him: "Huh?"

Me, pointing at the shirt: "From Harvard?"

Him: "Oh, I didn't go to Harvard! Are you kidding! I got this at [dept store]."

"Oh, I figured there was an intelligence amnesty program I see."

Did I mention MicHELLe finished that whole DIE(t) Snapple? Yeah.

*Not everyone from Jersey is trash... Just those that are still there. Okay, okay, kidding, but these people were def trashy and not from The City. Two thinks which may not have anything to do with each other.

Click here to check out a night out in DC during Inauguration Weekend '09.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.

Photos borrowed from moneyhuntnyc.com and denofgeek.com

the biggest bar night of the year ("open bar" at Rush and Suite 69 at The Ritz)

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, a few of us were planning to meet up at Rush for a BoyParty.com party that advertised an open bar. When I got to the door with the boys, the promoter at the door said there was a $10 cover.

Me: “Um, isn’t it $5 for the first 50 people? Plus open bar?”

Promoter: *uncomfortably long pause* “Oh, right. I forgot about that.”

Me: “I was about to say… [Promoter] was about to get an angry text!”

Promoter: “Who’s that?”

Me: “[First and Last Name]. He’s a promoter for this party.”

Promoter: “Oh, right… yeah, well I’m a promoter, too.”

Me: “That’s real nice, hun. That’s real nice.”

Okay, that's not really how the conversation ended. But suffice to say it was awkward, and he came off as a bit clueless.

Bartender: “That’ll be a dollar.”

Me: “Wait, I thought it was open bar.”

Bartender: “Yeah, that’s our open bar. It’s kinda dumb, but that’s just how they do it.”

So let’s be real for a second. I’ve done dollar drinks before, and it was cute. You're gonna charge me a cover and lie to me, especially when I’m the one who convinced my boys to come through? That just makes me look bad. So now I know not to deal with Rush or BoiParty anymore. Nightlife is shady enough without its people outright lying to their customers.

Ironically, even the lies wouldn’t bring the boys out to “the biggest bar night of the year.” The rest of the boys were over it by 10:30, but Med School Mess and I toughed it out til 11ish before ditching for a new Joey Israel/Michael "Formika" Jones party: Suite 69 (at The Ritz). And what do you know: they had half-price drinks just like they had advertised! I love a reliable brand, and as far as my experience goes, that’s exactly what The Blackout Blog's Promoter of the Year Mr. Israel has built.

Another great thing about a Joey Israel party: his go-goes always have the nicest asses! I mean, the first guy we saw on the bar had on granny panties, but he filled them out so well that it wasn’t an issue!

I had gotten two invites for this party, one of those being the VIP invite. I wasn’t sure how the whole thing worked, but I was definitely curious. Formika informed me that it opened at midnight and that I should see him for a bracelet. It seemed rather arbitrary how they were doing the VIP access. But everyone I was with got a bracelet, so we headed upstairs.

For those of you who don't know, The Ritz has opened up a 3rd floor. We walked through a door in the 2nd floor's street entrance and up what looked like the stairwell in an apartment building. We came do an apartment door that said 69 on it (clever). Behind the door was a small, chic lounge divided into two main areas lined with plush furnishings.

When I arrived upstairs, the first thing I saw was the 6’6” oh-so-dark-and chiseled hunk of man named Corey Corey. I’d first met Corey Corey at Duplex’s Halloween party in ’08 when he was obsessed with my fake butt. I met him again at Baña, but I’d failed to make the connection until I started following him on Twitter (talk about NSFW).

Corey Corey wearing a chicken mask over his face, white feather boa around his waist, and some bright orange rubber chicken feet. Notice how I didn’t mention underwear. That’s because the only thing between the feather boa and the chicken feet was the largest, darkest schlong I’ve ever seen (and I’ve dated an African… don’t worry: it was years ago, and I’ve since healed). I’m bad at guessing inches, but this is how I later described it to a friend (with the help of Med School Mess): “The head was about the size of a plumb.”

Just as advertised, there were fully naked bartenders and other go-goes in the VIP area. Personally, I prefer the No-Parking cock-sock, but it’s nice to have something different every once in a while (especially since that hot porn actor from Baña started wearing underwear while he bartended). But outside that, nothing especially wild happened. A good time was had by all.

Did I mention I had two Thanksgiving dinners to go to with my family the next day? Yeah.

Click here to check out the Baña party where I met Corey Corey.

Click here to check out Corey Corey's Facebook profile.

Photos borrowed from Fanpop.com, Missivesfrommarx.wordpress.com, and PBK's Facebook profile.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.