Growing up, I was taught that “home is where the heart is” – compliments of some hand-stitched needlepoint that my mom or grandma had done at some point and hung on the wall. There’s the part in The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy clicks her ruby red heels together and chants ‘There’s no place like home’ three times then magically reappears there. Sometimes it’d be nice to be able to do this. Trust me – there have been times that I’ve wished I could click my glittery size 12 pumps (just kidding, those days are over) together and end up in my mom’s house with a home-cooked meal in the land of a lack of reliable cell phone service where the closest guy on Grindr is 4 miles away. Continue reading
As we rolled into San Diego on a sunny Sunday afternoon, depression started to set in. In less than 24 hours I was supposed to be boarding my flight back to Chicago and trading 80-degree temps for 50’s and rain. Determined not to let the inevitable (me leaving) get us down, we headed for Balboa Park to stretch our legs and let Baker make some friends at the dog park before checking into our amazing last-minute AirBNB booking at the Granada House (make sure to check out their blog too!!) in San Diego’s North Park neighborhood. As our stomachs began to growl (yes, gays really do eat sometimes), we set off for the beach to grab dinner and catch the end of the sunset.
I mean seriously…how can you not fall in love with this view?
And just like that, my love affair with San Diego began. Continue reading
It was recently brought to my attention that Manhunt thinks I’m one of the hottest guys on their site. Well that’s a new one. I’d honestly forgotten I even had a profile on there until I received this email from them the other day:
“Hey there! We love your look, and we’re sure a lot of our users would agree! We’d like to feature you as one of our hottest members. This will include one picture (only your public pictures would be used) and a link to your Manhunt profile featured on our blogs and social networks.”
My ego would like to extend a sincere thank you for the boost of confidence.
But really, Manhunt, thanks. I’ll take the compliment.
I mean, who knows…perhaps some Prince Charming in a Maserati (or on a yacht) will see this and be like “Well helloooooooooo, future husband material!” and come speeding/sailing to rescue me from my high-rise tower on Lake Michigan.
One can dream, right?
So here I was, sitting around avoiding folding my Mount Everest-sized pile of laundry engulfing my bed when *ping* – in comes an email from Manhunt showcasing it’s hottest members of the week. Soon after, my phone started pinging more frequently alerting me that my Prince Charming wannabes were sending me messages. Well that was fast.
However…the first message sent me into a fit of laughter and reminded me how ridiculously barbaric some men are. If you thought there was no hope for humanity, you’re probably right based on some of these conversations. I can’t help but shake my head in disgust while laughing to myself as I take a screenshot. So on that note, I present to you Round 2 of some of the more ridiculous messages I’ve received lately on Grindr, Manhunt, and other such apps. Continue reading
Once upon a time, two twins were separated at birth. They lived apart for nearly 24 years before being reunited in Nebraska. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the tale of my unofficial (however it could be proven official if we got Maury Povich involved) twin and our tapeworm-fueled shenanigans/future plans.
Here we were in the booming metropolis of Lincoln, Nebraska. As any quality friendship begins these days, we were introduced by a mutual friend at the bar and bonded over vodka-sodas, tequila shots, frog sperm, and the fact that we shared the same ex-boyfriend with a Dorito-tinged skin color that rivaled Snooki’s circa season one of MTV’s the Jersey Shore. It was love at first sight for the two of us twins – well, within reason because twincest…well, that’s just gross. Continue reading