“Fine, we’ll take the Camero.” (TheBlackoutBlog Does Dallas)

Months ago, Bohoken had asked me to accompany him to the wedding of an old NYC friend. I was excited until I found out it was in Dallas, Texas. The last and only time I’d been to Dallas was in 1997 when my father and I were flying back to South Carolina from SFO on a couple of buddy passes he’d gotten. Turns out they treat you like staff when you're flying on a buddy pass, and you have to adhere to the staff dress code. So after he’d flown a leg of the flight in shorts, they refused to let him on the next flight until he'd purchased a pair of pants in the airport (the ones he’d packed were in our checked luggage).

But my Texas experiences haven't been all bad. I had a great time visiting Houston for Black Pride a few years ago, and Dallas was apparently gay enough to have a season of The A List.

Budweiser is the capital of Texas.

That Friday, after a quick polish for my cowboy boots, I met Bohoken in Midtown to make the trek to LaGuardia. Everything was on time with no long lines, and we even had time for a couple of drinks (doubles, of course) before we got on the plane.

We landed in DFW around 10:30, but we had to make our way to the rental car compound on the other side of the airport. Of course, there was construction, so the ride was doubled to 10 minutes. Usually, that wouldn’t be a big deal, but I was determined to check out the Friday night scene. Did I mention bars stop serving at 2 in Dallas? Yeah.

Rental Guy: “Alright, Mr. Bohoken. I have you down for a compact economy car, which will be a Hyundai, for 2 days, returning at 3pm on Sunday. But you know, we have a really nice Camero we just got in for $79/day if you’re interested.”

Me: “Oo, nice!”

Bohoken: “Really?”

Me: “What? I have a thing for sports cars!”

Bohoken: “So you really think it’s worth it to spend $80/day on a big, gas-guzzling engine.”

Me: “Well, I was right about business class to Paris, wasn’t I? I guess we can take the Hyundai.”

Rental Guy: “Well, since you’re from New York, how about I make it $49/day?”

Bohoken (looking at me): “Fine, we’ll take the Camero.”

We didn’t get to the hotel until about midnight. We were staying about a mile from the gay strip, which didn’t have many hotels within walking distance at all. Some college football game was going on that weekend, and every hotel in the downtown area was either full or approaching it. We figured the Holiday Inn would be close enough that a cab wouldn’t be outrageous (and it would be walkable if necessary). Plus, we’d rather navigate farther to the wedding while sober than stay at the wedding hotel and have to navigate farther back home after 8 drinks at the gay bars. By the time we’d dropped our bags off and freshened up, our cab was waiting downstairs.

Most of the gay life in Dallas is on a single strip in Oak Lawn. Our first stop was Woody’s, which must have been a happy-hour place because it was pretty dead when we showed up. But the 2-story space was downright cavernous with high ceilings and large decks on both floors. While they have cigarette vending machines in bars, I didn’t see anyone smoking inside and surprisingly few outside.

Our next stop was just down the road at Round Up Saloon. This place is a gay western playground with a large dance floor, a side room with a bar, and a surprisingly decked out arcade/game room (weirdly enough, I think every bar we went to in Dallas had one of those claw-grabs-prize games). In the main room, which was split-level with multiple bars and a balcony, a VJ played pop music videos. In the side room, drunk queens screamed out karaoke.

black cowboy!

Of course, the staff wore cowboy hats, but the number of patrons wearing them was not insignificant! It’s actually still a style there. Another observation: everyone was so friendly! It was like all the good stereotypes about Texas were coming true!

We stayed there til about 1:30 since they closed down at 2. From what I could gather, only one club, S4, stayed open til 4. As much as I’d love to see the Round Up scene at closing time, I really didn’t want to wait in the line that was sure to form as everyone who was just getting kicked out of everywhere else all migrated to S4 at 2.

S4 was the first cover we paid that night: $7 (I later saw that the door guy had the password for the night on his Grindr profile). At first glance, it’s a typical warehouse style club with an upper balcony overlooking the large dance floor with light show. We walked up the stairs and around the balcony to the enclosed upper bar for a drink and discovered the outdoor deck. Downstairs from there was a huge patio area with its own happening scene. Bohoken isn’t much of a dancer, so it was ideal for cooling off between screaming out divas’ songs.

After we tired of the club, we were happy to find a restaurant that was still open as we approached 4am. We also had the fortunate timing of not having to wait for a table. Though the service was annoyingly slow, the food was just what we needed before making our way home.

Did I mention the wedding was at 11am on the other side of town? Yeah.

Click here to check out how I dealt with last year's Halloween blizzard in NYC. 

A Special Hurricane Sandy Message from The Maverick Men

Hurricane Sandy shut down the MTA Subways in NYC around 7pm, but the PATH to Hoboken was still running til midnight. Cole and Hunter of The Maverick Men were in town, so I met up with them at their hotel for drinks.

I had to leave to catch the last train, but Cole texted me this little goodnight message (which has been edited to make safe for YouTube). Those bastards.



Stay dry and stay safe, folks. And tune in for my live-blog of tonight's Ru Paul Drag Race (from home... if I still have power).

Click here to check out the first time I met The Maverick Men at Sandblast in Asbury Park. 

Live Blog: Ru Paul's Drag Race All-Stars Episode 2

Continuing my live-blog series of Logo's Ru Paul's Drag Race: All Stars! Follow along as you watch on Monday!




Minicap:

• For this week's mini-challenge, the queens played a Newlyweds-type game to see how well they knew their teammates. Raven and Jujubee won. Their prize: a pie in the face.
• This week's main challenge was all about comedy and celebrity impersonations. The queens had to write jokes that played off of interacting with Ru Paul and special guest Vicki Lawrence (i.e., Mama).
• The judges loved Yara Sofia's Shakira so much that, despite a Alexis Mateo's lackluster performance as Shakira, their team won the challenge.
• Tammie Brown/Nina Flowers and Manila Luzon (who did a great Madonna)/Latrice Royale were up for elimination, the former team being sent home. 
• During Untucked, Chad Michaels's father, with whom she hadn't spoken in 25 years, sent a video message of encouragement and acceptance, which had all the queens in tears and sharing about their paternal relationships. 
Click here to check out my live-blog and recap of Ep 1. 

Click here to see the full episode on LogoTV.com.

Fun with Scruff: guys who aren't fooling anybody

As many of you know, I'm currently in a relationship with a wonderful otter. After a while, we decided that we'd make a joint profile on Scruff, and it's been quite an adventure...

There's the usual geographical smudging...

The comically prejudiced convos...

The guys who aren't fooling anybody (dude, you hit up 2 torso shots)...

The ones who have let their syphilis go untreated... 

it's not like Scruff cleared our conversation from 3 months prior.

And those who point out the obvious...

The timid ones...

The dumb grad students...

The ones with 'top' in their screennames...

And those who are tried and true fans of Coming to America. 

Not on Scruff? Click here to check out Fun with Grindr... in HONG KONG!

Live Blog: Ru Paul's Drag Race All-Stars Premiere

Hi!

For my first Live Blog, I'll be covering the premiere of Ru Paul's Drag Race All-Stars from their official screening at Boxers Bar in NYC with hostess Manila Luzon. I'll be getting started at 8:45.





Minicap:

• The queens were paired off in teams they'd have for the whole season! If you fuck up, you're both up for elimination and you could both go home. Pandora Boxx was PISSED to be paired with Mimi Imfurst.
• The first challenge was a photo spread where the queens were "half baked" (partial drag) and "opposites attract" where they had to highlight their differences.
• Latrice Royale and Manila Luzon won the challenge. Bottom teams were Chad Michaels/Shannell and Pandora Boxx/Mimi Imfurst. Chad and Mimi repped their teams in the lip-synch.
• Pandora Boxx/Mimi ended up going home
• In the Untucked episode, the queens revealed that Mimi Imfurst had gotten a job at Alexis Mateo's club and Alexis ended up being let go as a result. The queens ganged up on Mimi, and she stormed out in tears right before having to lip-synch. Oh, and Willam made a random appearance.

Click here to watch the full premiere episode on LogoTV.com! 

I was expecting Griffin Sundays Part II (Rafferty/Mazur's Encore on Columbus Day Weekend & Sperm Sundays @ The Cock)

 I was pretty bummed one recent Sunday because I was supposed to drive my grandmother to Long Island Jewish Hospital to see her sister (i.e., trek to outer queens, drive her to the hospital for a couple of hours, drive back and trek back to Manhattan). I'm grateful to have a wonderful family and to help them out when they need, but at the same time, it was the perfect way to make Sunday Funday a “non-mother-fucking factor”.

I called Nana around 10:30 and got no answer. Bohoken and I went to brunch, and I called her again around noon. She picked up when I called around 1:15 to tell me her neighbor was taking her instead.

Sobriety: Cancelled.

We made our way over to Intermezzo on 8^th Ave in Chelsea for their drag show with Princess Janae and DJ Jimmy Prada. It looked like a full house when we walked in, but they seated us for just drinks ($20 unlimited special) with no wait. Princess Janae’s show was amusing as usual, and Jimmy Prada’s sets before and after were packed with fun remixes of what Bohoken calls “gay bar music”.

gays trying to avoid being called out by the drag queen... it never works

After a couple of drinks at Gym Bar (which included a big-girl glass of mostly vodka… damn you, Timmy), Bohoken and I headed home to recharge. Bohoken was done for the night, but I’d worked out a comp for the newest Rafferty-Mazur special event: Encore. Apparently Tenjune is super-exclusive, which explains why Miss Roze at the door (you know, the one mentioned in “Let’s Have a Kiki”) couldn’t even pull me out of line to skip until I was 2^nd from the entrance. Luckily, I was wearing a really cute jacket in that cold weather.

I was expecting Griffin Sundays Part II, but this was not the case. The space is much more compact and dynamic with an overhead light show and a small, tiered dance floor. The VIP (an extra $10) was on the upper tier on both sides of the dance floor, which provided a bit of a break from the crowd (though it was far from sparse). They had go-goes on 4 boxes with outfits that either matched or coordinated as they changed throughout the night. Among the go-goes was the legendary Geronimo (known for dancing G Lounge and appearing in Cazwell’s “Ice Cream” video) and a fierce, petite black woman with a shaved head who sported electrical-tape Xs over her nips for one of her looks.

image courtesy of Rafferty/Mazur Events and JJ Mack

I saw a Facebook friend comment that Perez Hilton was at Encore, too. Just as I was confirming via Twitter, I ran into photographer JJ Mack, who promptly took me over to snap a picture with him. I really wanted to get a picture of both of us showing our abs to the camera, but once I actually met him, I just wasn’t really getting a great vibe from him. He just didn’t seem enthused to be there. There were a few group shots, and once everyone got over the OMG factor, they started to disperse. As I was laughing with Jason Hellinger about his having to stand in line as long as I did despite being a host of the party, I saw that Perez was starting to relax now that people weren’t pawing at him. I still felt weird about asking him to lift up his shirt with me, though.

image courtesy of Rafferty/Mazur Events and JJ Mack

After a long talk with a guy who recognized me from reading my blog (compliment my writing, and my heart is yours), I started to get that strange euphoric/invincible feeling that really only happens when I’m on vacation. Around 2:15, I texted Bottomless Pitt, who was thinking what I was thinking.

going to the Cock is never a good choice. but it's also never boring.

A $10 cab ride and a $15 cover later, I was at the special Columbus Day edition of their weekly Sunday party, Sperm. Think naked (and well proportioned) go-goes on the bar, spray-painted sheets hanging from the ceiling with naughty words and drawings on them, and a dark room. This time, it was noticeably more busy than last time I went (last time, the night ended with 3 drag queens performing “It’s Raining Men” in the middle of the dance floor as the lights were coming on). 

For the most part, the raunchiness stayed in the dark room, but then there was the 60-year old white guy with his pants around his ankles duck-shuffling across the bar. I almost felt bad laughing at him. There was a point where (either out of pity or payment) one of the go-goes was squatting down on the bar and Mr. 60 was eating his ass. When somebody else tried to move in, the go-go looked back and pushed his head away, allowing Mr. 60 to have free anal reign.

BTW, props to the promoters for addressing a number of different tastes and preferences because that go-go lineup was a beautiful spectrum of colors and types!

At one point, I was in the middle of telling Bottomless Pitt a story. Mid-sentence, this 30-something white guy made eye contact with Pitt, walked over, and started making out with him. At first I was shocked, but then I remembered with whom I was dealing. So I watched them pull each other over to a spot on a dimly lit wall and waited to observe any shocking happenings from the bar. As I witnessed Pitt's following encounter, which involved a 3^rd guy joining in, I wondered about the repercussions of being mistaken with a dude that guys line up to service at The Cock.

oh, foursquare! never a dull moment

You’d think by that time, I’d be kind of over it, but there was just so much to observe. What was going on in the back room? What else was this duck-shuffling 60-something going to put his mouth on? Would the go-go with the lube in his sock actually put it to good use?

Speaking of lube, towards the end of the night (which is quite the relative term when you’re arriving at 2:30am), I noticed a bunch of guys gathered around one area of the bar. All it took was a glance in the mirror behind the bar to see that we were about to get the first money shot of the night. A go-go was on his back, furiously stroking his dick like it was his 4^th performance that day (based on what I’d seen at that party so far, it very well may have been). The bartender had to swat away a patron that had gotten a bit to touchy feely with his tongue.

DJ: “Well, shit! How many tired, old queens does it take to get a go-go off these days!”

Obviously too many because said go-go’s efforts went unrewarded.

Did I mention this was totally worth enduring work on 3 hours of sleep? Yeah. 

Click here to check out that time I went to Ass Wednesdays at The Cock with Logan Hardcore. 

TheBlackoutBlog in the Huffington Post

Hi!

So, I've been cheating on you. I know, I know, but it the opportunity just presented itself. And it just looked so good...

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/d-kareem/gay-friendship-rules_b_1954884.html

The Huffington Post recently published an article that I wrote for them, and I'm super excited! Please check it out, share it and make comments! And thanks for your support, guys :-)

Click here to check out my interviews from RuPaul's Drag Race Season 4's reunion.

 

you know she only takes cash (a wedding, a birthday and a reading)

There was a Friday where I made a cameo as the surprise +1 for a wedding. The bride and I were good friends in college, but we’d more or less fallen out of regular communication. However, a high-school friend she’d introduced me to (SANGurl, who attended my Fetish Birthday Brunch) had invited me as her guest. The other girls from the bride’s high school years that I’d met around the same time as SANGurl were all in her wedding party, so there was enough slightly-awkward to go around. But we know exactly how to deal with these situations.

a white grape martini for the lady... she'll have one, too. 

Please tell me why SANGurl strolled up 7^th Ave in an asymmetrically hemmed dress that served Rockette-leg realness, silver 6” heels, and weave hair ripped from the scalp of an En Vogue member! I mean, we’re not going to talk about my purple suede shoes (yes, I know we’ve seen them already this year, but that was a gay wedding in a different state). 2 martinis later, we were on the platform waiting for the train to Brooklyn.

Of course, we were late, so we ran into the bridal party on our way inside the rather spectacular cathedral. And with a “So good to see you! Can you hold these?” I got saddled with bag/flip-flop duty for the ceremony.

We sat, stood and kneeled our way through a Catholic ceremony, which is always fun for those of us heathens who aren’t Catholic (though my 12 years at an Episcopal school certainly didn’t go to waste).

The reception was in the Picnic House in Prospect Park. KT Event Planning did a great job with the details of the party, but after that 7^th trip to the champagne bar, I probably didn’t have much of an eye for detail. After sliding in electric and cha-cha fashions (and getting a little more upset than I should have about not catching the garter), they shuttled everyone over to Brooklyn Bowl (a pretty sweet bowling alley), where we drank to the tunes of a live reggae band until I peaced out for the City around midnight. I ended the night shockingly late at Baracuda.

Saturday, I dragged my ass to the gym in SoHo before grabbing a long, leisurely lunch (I guess 4:30 is a little late to start brunch) with Bohoken, who was on call for work the whole weekend. We both needed a disco nap, but Bohoken decided to stay in for the evening.

image from thehaircompany.biz

P. Willow had reserved the bottom floor of Vlada for her 30^th birthday, which, according to the invite, would involve a cake lit with sparklers to be presented to the soundtrack of Kelly Clarkson’s “A Moment Like This”. When it happened, it was absolutely magical. It was a fun crowd, but many of P. Willow’s gay friends are couples who are perfectly happy to end their nights at 1:30. I, on the other hand, ended up running into Bottomless Pitt at Posh around 2.

SHOTS!

So, by the time the lights came on, I’d started talking to a ridiculously handsome, slightly younger black guy who was there with a friend. We all walked out, and Mr. Handsome, seeing the psychic reading storefront next door, decided that he absolutely needed a psychic reading right away. Now, the sign said they were open for readings til 2am, and it’s was about 4:05 at this point. He knocked on the door, and the girl actually answered and let him in (but we could tell she was not amused)! So then this cute, 40-something white guy comes out and sees Mr. Handsome getting his reading done in the storefront window, commenting on how Handsome he was. He decided he was going to try to talk to Mr. Handsome when he got out.

Now, here’s the thing about competing with me for a guy I just met: I don’t care. In this situation, we were 4 guys on the way to a diner. If I got some action after, great. But I’m not trekking all the way out to Brooklyn and back, and it wasn’t likely that he’d be up for a trip to Hoboken that late. And nothing against the 40-something dude, but if Mr. Handsome’s was into the generically attractive non-gym-going set, there wasn’t much I could do for him anyway.

image from gofitandhealthy.com

The 40-something had already mentioned going to a friend’s terrace around the corner, and when he pointed out the host and the rest of his friends, it was obvious 40-something was the best looking of the bunch. So when Mr. Handsome came out of the psychic’s door and headed directly for the convenience store, the 40-something went chasing after him. 40-something’s friend who was hosting came up to us and asked where 40-something had gone. When he mumbled something about the terrace party being full (more to himself than us) as he pursued his friend, I was far from devastated.

Mr. Handsome’s friend: “Why is he going to the bodega?”

Me: “Well if he went running to the bodega and she’s still sitting there, my guess: he’s out of money. And you know she only takes cash.”

So Mr. Handsome, his friend, Bottomless Pitt and I got a table at Galaxy diner (40-something was long gone). We had a nice kiki among the 4 of us, but once Mr. Handsome paid the bill (he insisted) and we left the restaurant, I wasn’t getting any clear signals from him. I guess I could have been direct and invited him to Hoboken (god knows Bohoken would gladly wake up for him), but negotiating a 3some without your boyfriend present is way too much work for 5:30am. Apparently, so was asking for his phone number. 

Me: “Split a cab and drop me at 33^rd and 6^th?”

Bottomless Pitt: “You read my fucking mind.”

Did I mention: ain't nobody go time fuh that! Yeah.

Click here to check out that time I saw Kylie Minogue at Splash. 

TheBlackoutBlog’s Top 11 Online Dating and Hookup Tips

Recently, I was asked to be a guest on the podcast In the Kitchen with Austin Helms and Justin Luke. Okay, fine, I badgered Justin until he relented. Luckily, it was a slow week for them.

I arrived, screwdriver supplies in hand (if I’m nothing else, I’m a good houseguest), and we proceeded to go in on online hookups and dating. The ‘cast mostly centered on my 11 tips for success in online dating and hookups, which I want to share with you guys. It was supposed to be a top-10, but every point was just way to good to discard. And you can trust my expertise because I’ve been doing the online dating thing for close to 10 years now, and I’m one of the most practical people I know. It mostly focuses on my experience as a gay man, but these tips are useful in any online dating/hookup situation.

TheBlackoutBlog’s Top 11 Online Dating and Hookup Tips (in order of importance):

11. Use more than one site/app.

Different sites and different apps have different target audiences. Don’t limit yourself, especially if you’re new to the online dating/hookup scene. Familiarize yourself with what different sites/app have to offer and narrow it down once you find what you like.

10. Keep it positive.

Gay boys love to be exclusive. “No fats, no femmes” is the most popular phrase on Manhunt. Except they spell it “fems,” but that’s a whole ‘nother blog post. Anyway, what’s going to make a much cuter first impression is showing your preferences over your prejudices. Try “Looking for…” instead of “not into.” Because you attract more bears with honey than vinegar.

Sidenote: I’ve definitely passed over hot guys who have “no Asians,,,, just a preference” in their profile. It’s so not sexy to discriminate based on race.

9. Learn the value of "no thanks."

It’s so easy to ignore a message from a guy you’re not into. However, nobody likes to be ignored, and any therapist will tell you that closure is preferable. A quick, “Hey, thanks, but I don’t think we’re a match” is a polite response. Most guys will move on or say, “Cool. Have a good night.” And if he tries to take it beyond that, there’s no guilt in ignoring (or blocking).

8. Put thought into your profile text.

When you’re filling out your profile, it’s basically an advertisement. And the guys you want to hit up are the customers. No matter how good the product is, if you’re not presenting it well to those who don’t know about it, it’s not gonna sell. Think about whom you’re trying to attract, and try to read your profile from their perspective as if it’s the first time you’ve seen it. And for god sakes, spell/grammar check! It takes 30 seconds to cut and paste into a word document and look for squiggly lines.

7. Check the boxes.

Certain websites have boxes for you to check off interests (or fetishes). These are important because this is what’s often used when guys do searches on websites. And if you haven’t checked off what it is you’re into, you’re not going to show up in the search. Often, these boxes are at the bottom of the “edit my profile” screen, so they’re easy to miss or skip over. But don’t.

6. Have and expect multiple pictures.

Think about how many takes it took to get that perfect profile picture in the mirror. Especially if it looks better than you look in person. Anyone with experience in online dating will tell you that if a person has only one picture, that’s probably the best they’ve ever looked (even if it was 10 years ago… don’t laugh, I’ve seen it!). So offer multiple pictures, and ask for them from others if you have to. My rule is that the person is most likely to look like their worst picture, even if all the other pictures are consistently better. And if they’re all cropped the same way, they’re hiding something.

5. Consider your grid presentation.

Most of the time on these sites/apps, profiles are presented in a grid or list with limited information, allowing users to see the full profile when it’s clicked on. And you can have the perfect profile text and balance of pictures, but if nobody clicks on it, then it does you no good. So what you have to do is figure out what’s going to make you stick out in a grid of 20 or so profiles on a page. Usually, it has to do with your profile, screenname, and sometimes your heading. But each site’s layout is different, so you’ll have to compose each profile accordingly.

4. You're not obligated.

Just because you said you were into X, Y and Z in your profile or because you said you’d do something in a message doesn’t mean you have to do it (though you should think about why you said it in the first place). When it comes to meeting up, if you’re not comfortable doing something, you shouldn’t do it. Period. If you have a bad feeling about something, listen to your gut. There’s no shame in saying, “Sorry, I’m just not comfortable…” and any rational person will understand. I’m not saying they won’t be upset, try to talk you into it, or never contact you again. And you might look like an ass. But that will pass a lot quicker than the feeling of regret when you do something you really didn’t want to do.

3. Be honest.

Lying just isn’t cool. Don’t say 29 when you’re 36. Don’t say 6’ when you’re 5’9. And don’t claim 8.5” when you’re 5.5” in the summer. Because when you meet up, the truth will likely be obvious, and no one likes to be lied to. And it’s not unheard of for a guy to say, “Oh, that’s definitely not 9 inches… yeah, you have to go.” He probably would have still invited you over if you were honest.

Note: I’ve heard of guys saying that they put their age down to the next decade because they look young for their age, and they don’t want to be filtered out when people search by age. If this is the case, you really need to disclose your true age in the first couple of messages. “Hey, just wanted to let you know that I’m actually 32. Hope that’s not a problem.”

2. Use condoms!

Every time. Guys lie about their age, their size, and their Botox use. It’s very easy to lie about HIV status. And many guys are infected and don’t even know it. So take it upon yourself to actively protect your own health, and insist on condoms.

1. Meet on neutral territory.

I made this the most important because a) it has to do with your immediate safety, and b) it’s something that people who are new to the world of online hookups don’t think about, especially if they’re just looking for a fuck. You don’t have to do a full-blown date, but meet in a public place and get feel for the guy’s vibe before you go to his place or he comes to yours. Because if big, hot muscle daddy turns out to be a sketchball who wants to stab you, there’s not much you can do in an apartment to fend him off (hell, didn’t you hear about that weatherman who got stabbed 50 times by his Craigslist hookup!). Again, trust your gut. If something doesn’t feel right, finding an out is much easier at a bar or a Starbucks than it is at an apartment. If you have to ditch, it’ll be awkward for a few seconds, but refer back to #4.

And for those of you just looking to hook up: if you have trouble pulling the trigger to get him home, remember, you guys met up to hook up, right? You can waste 2 hours on idle chatter, or you can ask him if he wants to leave (once you get a feel for him). And if he turns you down, it’s better to know sooner. If he doesn’t want it, why waste any more time than necessary!

The full podcast is on In the Kitchen’s website (they’re on iTunes, too). It’s hilarious, and the banter between the 3 of us on each of these points makes it a must-listen. Thanks to Austin and Justin for having me as a guest.

Click here to check out my complete Guide to Gay Online Dating and Hookups.

Fun with Scruff: I'll have what she's having?

Oh Scruff. Home to some of the hottest hairy guys on the planet. Most of the ones who talk to me are 10,000 miles away in Australia... but bitches travel :-)

These guys, on the other hand, are a bit too close for comfort. I'm not a fan of the block button, but rules were made to be broken.

I assume he's masc/k

congrats: you've just announced to the world that you couldn't afford the suit you liked enough to take a picture in.

hey, I'll take an LMFAO quote over Britney or Gaga in a hookup profile any day.

I'll have what she's having?

but not what she's having.

Click here to check out more Fun with Scruff. 

drinking and silliness (the not-so-romanic and yet entirely appropriate anniversary weekend)

Last year on the Sunday before Labor Day 2011, I was up to no good in Chelsea. I’d been at Gym drinking most of the afternoon and into the evening with a few fellow bar flies. Everyone else was either out of town or had plans to do parties that would be guaranteed to come with lines and crowds of squares too vanilla to venture out on a normal Sunday night. So I skipped over to G Lounge by myself.

I didn’t really know anyone there except for DJ Xavier. We exchanged pleasantries on my way around G's fruit loop, and he surprised me with a wave of his cloth-draped manual fan in the wind of his electrical fan and a drink ticket (the interaction played out a bit like a super gay magic trick). After I’d gotten myself a drink, I took a lap around the circular bar. About halfway around, I saw the cutest otter with salt and pepper in his beard. Now, I’m really not the one to initiate conversation, but I’ve gotten pretty good at letting guys know I’m totally available if they would like to initiate. Unfortunately, our eyes didn’t meet by the time we’d passed each other. Plus, I had no desire to compete with the attractive black guy I realized he was with. 

courtesy of Michael Cohen

I wandered a bit, saying hello to some familiar faces, and ended up posting up on the wall by the DJ booth. Then a guy that I may or may not have talked to on Jack’d (I was legitimately debating for a while) posted up next to me. I was so wrapped up in playing is-you-isn't-you that I hardly noticed that the cutie next to him was the otter I’d been checking out earlier. And my perceived competition was nowhere in sight. 

Deep breath. One foot in front of the other. Smile, but not too enthusiastically.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

It turned out this guy wasn’t aloof at all. We ended up having a lot in common, and our conversation came easy. The only problem: he lived in Hoboken.

That next morning, we woke up and walked to a diner a few blocks from my place for brunch, and I walked him to the train. Neither of us wanted to leave the other. After an hour of talking by the Subway entrance, I realized I couldn’t hide what I was feeling any longer.

Me: “Okay, you’re gonna hate me for this, but… what’s your name again?”

A year later, Bohoken and I planned a romantic anniversary getaway to our mountain estate (i.e., my apartment in Washington Heights) since he wanted to hit up all the uptown spots over the long weekend.

courtesy of no parking + cash carter images

You may not know this, but Bohoken has taken nearly every photo I have from the past year that doesn’t involve a mirror. So when a friend mentioned that he wanted a Lytro camera (it lets you change the focus of the photo even after you upload it to your computer or Facebook), it seemed like the perfect gift for Bohoken. I was so excited to give it to him that I made him come directly from his office to mine (he'd gotten out early because his day job actually takes care of its people). Once he arrived and I gave it to him, he had no idea what the fuck it was. But a little research online got him quite excited about his new toy.

After a Friday happy hour with some friends, Bohoken and I cabbed it uptown for an extended disco nap, heading to No Parking at midnight. Mike da Wizard, one of my favorite DJs for years now, had about a hundred asses shaking when we walked in. I typed up a shout-out to him on my phone (Marquee is an awesome scrolling-text display app) and held it up for him to see.

Mike in the mic: “Yo, what’s up, dude! I love this guy; he always shows love. Hey, ma! Get this dude a shot!”

Now, keep in mind that the DJ booth is about 6 feet higher than the dance floor. To get from there to the bar would involve pushing through about 20 people within about 10 feet. There was no way I was holding my breath for the alleged shot I’d been awarded, but it was a nice gest—

“Here you go. From Mike.”

courtesy of no parking + cash carter images

A smiling female, whom I recognized as the person who tapped Mike on the shoulder to show him the scrolling message on my phone, was standing in front of me with a HUGE shot of some kind of clear liquid. I thanked her and gave Bohoken a hair toss before gulping down everything but the glass.

Bohoken: “What was it?”

Me: “Some kind of flavored vodka. Not too bad. He must have a bottle in the DJ booth.”

We had a couple of drinks and danced til about 3 before heading to Mambi for rice and beans.

After a few hours of sleep, Riis Beach was our planned destination for Saturday. The boys who had planned the expedition were all about getting on the beach by 11:30. I was all about brunch, so we hopped a train down to Pier 9 for their unlimited special and ended up at the beach around 2:30.

Early beach trips used to annoy the fuck out of me. But now that I have a partner in crime, I rather prefer letting everyone else get there early and warm up for my arrival.

The beach was full of familiar faces, including a friend from out of town and a mutual acquaintance who was described as having “a rather elephantine dick” (noted). Fun times at a Hell’s Kitchen housewarming and Flaming Saddles (shout out to the bar-dancing bar tenders) followed before we returned to No Parking to end the night.

courtesy of no parking + cash carter images

We had more brunchy times in Harlem at Cédric Bistro with a bottle of champagne before catching the LIRR to Jones Beach with MicHELLe and her crew. It was a pretty low-key day of drinking and silliness with the exception of an okay looking friend of a friend who was giving supermodel attitude. Apparently, that works because BG6P (remember him from earlier this summer?) gave him head in the ocean. 

We mostly split up once we got to Penn Station, but a few of us moseyed over to The Eagle for their Sunday rooftop beer blast. A friend who had left his man at home wandered off on the very cruisey second floor. I noticed a couple of times that he seemed to be making decisions based on Eagle lighting. I mean, to each his own, but damn, girl… him?!

I wasn't cruising, btw. It was just less crowded than the roof down there.

Cruisy Friend: “Wow, the guys here are so friendly! That one guy had his finger all the way up my butt.”

Me: “Just one?”

Bohoken: “Wait, what?! That happened over there? That guy?!”

Me: “Hope he didn’t have a hangnail...”

CF: “Oo, I like that guy!”

Me: “The one that just passed?”

CF: “Yeah, he was cuuuuuute!”

Me: “The one with the fade?”

CF: “Yeah. The one by the door now.”

Me: “With those teeth?! Maybe you need to follow him upstairs so you can see him in daylight.”

CF: “Whatever. I didn’t see all that. But I still want a piece, OKRRR!”

After the 3 of us had dinner, my friend asked for the address of the Eagle. I thought he was joking, but then I got this text.

that was awkward laughter

  

Me (picking up the phone when Cruisy Friend called me): “Please tell me you didn’t go do anything with that dude!”

CF: “I searched all over, but I couldn’t find him. But then I found a Latin papi and came all over his back and ass. So hot!”

Me: “Oh my god… So hold up. When you do something like that, what happens to the cum? Does he have a towel in his boot? Do you run to the bathroom and wipe it off his back for him?”

CF: “Gurl, I don’t know! I zipped up and walked out. PEACE!”

This conversation happened in a cab on the way to El Morocco, which must have been POPPING because the line was down the block. I’ll never know because we went to No Parking, which was totally manageable and featured a Puerto Rican transgender performer. And, of course, plenty of vodka.

Did I mention the romantic trip to our first diner the next morning afternoon for brunch with cheap champagne in huge water glasses? Yeah. 

Click here to check out how an early outing with Bohoken ended with my throwing up at a bar. For the record, it had been over 5 years since the last time.