Posts Tagged ‘Sam Tyson


Sex party with Alan Ritchson

Okay, it was a dream. It didn’t happen, but it almost felt like it did. I probably shouldn’t be telling you about this, but I had the dream, or should I say, experience, last night. Sam and I had just bought a new convertible Mercedes-Benz and we went to Blythe‘s parents’ house in Miami. I know it was her parents’ house because it was full of Le Corbusier furniture, all in black.

Alan had brought a cadre of mostly naked bubble-butted boys with him, and they lounged about the Le Corbusier. One of them put a Martha White flour sack full of cocaine on the kitchen counter. I told Blythe it was flour and that I suddenly felt like doing some baking, so I put some of it in a bowl and added water and eggs. Everyone in attendance brought their tiny dog, and the constant corralling of the pack of them was holding up the fun. Preposterous. Continue reading ‘Sex party with Alan Ritchson’


So I Married a Porn Star

Bronson Pondering PornI’d been dating Sam for a few weeks when I started to get the feeling that he might ‘be around for a while’, and then I knew I had to unload a couple of bombshells on Mom: HIV and porn. I wanted the discussion to take place somewhere we could feel safe, and she could digest the information. But most of all, it had to be matter of fact, and occur casually.

I called and asked her to dinner.

“What’s wrong?” she blurted, instantly.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I replied calmly. I’m a terrible strategist.

“You never ask me to dinner.”

Great. Now I’m remiss. “Can’t I just take you to dinner without there being something wrong?” I riposted.

“I don’t know. Can you?”

Touché. Continue reading ‘So I Married a Porn Star’

Billy’s Sorted Past

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