Anonymity’s a ticking time bomb.
I won’t tell you my real name, but I will say I’m a pansexual, polyamorous single guy. I’m currently a graduate student. Soon I’ll be overeducated and underemployed. I now live in a medium-size city, although I grew up in the middle of nowhere, about an hour from here. The city’s full of hidden flavor but could use a few less idiots and a few more places that stay open after 9 p.m.
This blog is a part of me, but it’s not all of me. It’s truth, but it’s not cold, hard fact – it’s my experience.
I’m a huge believer in celebrities being open. They put themselves out there as icons, and they shouldn’t be hypocrites who hide their gay lovers in the closet. However, I’m not a celebrity, so until the day I can get married, give blood, join the army, and kiss in the streets without fear of retribution, I’ll happily hide behind the smokescreen of the internet.
Either that, or until I get a 3-book deal and keep my movie rights.
Then you can catch me plugging on Chelsea Lately or judging whatever lame reality show Fox eventually uses to replace Glee. (You know that network can’t keep a show with brains on the air, right? That’d be unpatriotic or something.)
Virgin on the Rocks 