Late last month, Instagram scrubbed my account. Why? What were they wanting to achieve? A year of tip-toeing the line got me in trouble a couple of times—how much ass is too much? Why did visible dick print cross the line in one image and escape censorship in another? Why

My first Dirtybird rave was the essence of underground. Like always, news of the party spread by word of mouth. You could keep the Facebook event page unsearchable. Your profile wouldn’t rat you out. Still, there was a physical vetting process, a practice we would do well to bring back.

I grew up close to a swampy bend in the Missouri River crawling with its fair share of dangerous creatures. Indoors, only two arachnids you’ve surely heard of, the black widow and brown recluse spiders, warrant any concern. The black widow’s bite causes fever, muscle spasms and severe pain. Brown

For three more weeks, I’m staying at an artist’s residency in Santa Fe, New Mexico. It’s beautiful country here, roughly 7,000 feet up on a high desert at the tail end of the Rockies. Faceless and not, most men on the apps say I’m here for the best time of

The days leading up to Pride weekend were like the drawback of a tidal wave (Pridal wave?). In preparation, we cut two industrial-sized buckets of limes, around three days’ worth. We stacked boxes on boxes of beer and seltzer in the walk-in, evacuating our supplies to higher ground. By Thursday night, we were ready. A coworker and I earned the privilege of clocking out early.

It’s a sin when success complains. That’s how I feel as a gay man who moved to San Francisco from what Californians affectionately call “flyover country.” It’s pretty damn great, living here. So what if everything closes at 2am (#4) and there aren’t any bathhouses to go to (#5). Compared

I made a new friend recently. He just moved here from New York. Having tried to visit the Eagle but finding it closed, he texted me one evening. “Does SF close down at like, 11pm? I’m used to NYC where we don’t even start going out until then.”  Oh honey.

Cheers to the straight guys who have fooled around with me. I think of you from time to time, and I hope you’re well. You’re an integral part of my adolescence and early college years. I share our memories (anonymously, of course) with my gay friends to convivial laughter. They