I’m sure most of you are probably more interested in reading about what’s going on in Iran than in reading anything I have to say. After all, this is a revolution unlike anything people our age have ever really seen before, and to think that Twitter is one of the main weapons of choice. But, like it or not, Iran chose to have a revolution the same month as gay pride, so clearly they weren’t thinking things through and they should have waited until we had our giant parties and got drunk on floats with rainbow streamers first, this way we wouldn’t have to feel guilty about having a good time while there are people dying in the streets standing up for their rights. I know, they’re like, omg, totally selfish.

So, since gay pride is the topic, there are actually several smaller subtopics that I want to touch upon.

The first one is that of the parade itself. I know a lot of people have a problem with it because many see it as a way of putting all gay people into a single category: drunken guys with six packs and boas dancing on floats that advertise for businesses such as Miller Lite w/Lime and KY. I am actually pretty pro-parade because I see it as more of a celebration and not necessarily a means of gaining equal rights. Maybe I’ve just been out for too long to think of it as this big liberating experience, but in my mind it’s just a party celebrating sexuality. And I know a lot of people don’t like that, but in the last few years have you seen more groups of people who are coming out and showing actual gay pride or have you seen more companies and politicians advertising that they’re “down with the homo?”

The next topic I want to touch upon is these ever-increasing gay movies where “being gay” is the main subject of the movie. I finally gave in and watched Prayers for Bobby last night. I hated this movie. From the opening scene you know that the kid is going to commit suicide because his mom was mean and loved the Bible a bit too much, but then after he dies she comes around and regrets that it took her so long. I would say SPOILER! but like I said, this is all pretty obvious in the first 5 minutes, especially when coupled with the fact that it aired on Lifetime.

I don’t understand how so many gay kids my age LOVE this movie and why they have to watch it over and over again. It’s full of crappy acting and a plot that somehow manages to drag and be predictable every step of the way. I know it’s based on a true story, and I know it’s tragic that kids are killing themselves for this reason all the time, but this is a movie that is meant to convince moms who are on the fence regarding gays to just give in and love their gay children. Yes, these movies are important for people to see, but why do I have to suffer through them? I’d much rather go see The Final Destination and watch people die glorious deaths. Now that’s a good time.

The third thing I want to ask you fine people about is how you feel about being gay. I recently had a conversation with a gay friend in which he told me that if he had the choice he would rather be straight than gay. I suppose I understand this for like … a minute, but in the end I just feel insulted. I get that it would make having kids a lot easier. I also get that you don’t have to call up Granny Ihatethecoloredsandfags and tell her that you’re gay, but after that? What about all those relationships? The friends that you’ve made? The experiences you’ve had? Dancing to Lady GaGa and not feeling any shame about it?

I think the main problem I have with this is that a lot of the experiences I have had over the past 7 or 8 years have been because I have been gay. In high school, for instance, I ended up befriending a gay kid who ended up convincing me that I would never apply for studying abroad. If I didn’t hear that, I wouldn’t have gone for it to prove him wrong. I would never have learned German or met the wonderful families that I did. I would never have ended up studying in Austria and meeting some of the best and closest friends I have ever had. I know that my life would be filled with other things. Like maybe I would have taken a class on auto mechanics or gotten a girl pregnant, but I’m pretty satisfied with my life up to this point, and the past 7 years have been really awesome and I wouldn’t trade them in just so I could be straight. I am sure that a lot of you are happy to be straight and that’s great, but it’s just not for me.

OH! And the sex! Fuck, can you gay guys imagine being straight and never being fucked? Like, ever? I have met plenty of straight guys who are comfortable with many things, but being fucked (whether by a dildo, strap on, fingers, a dude’s dick, a highlighter, or whatever) is not usually something that they’re willing to try. So, hypothetically, if you were straight you would probably never get to experience the pleasures that is anal sex, at least not on the receiving end. How horrible is that? Pretty damn horrible.

I think what I am getting at is that I am going to live my life the way I see fit. I am gonna dance to Lady GaGa and I am going to have anal sex. I am going to party at a parade and I’m going to watch movies where a guy’s ass is sucked through a vacuum (that’s Final Destination, not porn). And when it comes to those gay movies, go ahead and write them, direct them, star in them, watch them, but please, don’t nag me to watch them with you.

And uh … make sure you catch up on something that actually matters. This Iran thing is kind of a big deal.

****

I just got a message on Facebook regarding the 4th of July Parade in CU:

Please subscribe to the Facebook event if you just want to cheer us on in the march:
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=94043146143

Hey Y’all

It’s summer, and you know what that means: getting the fuck out of Champaign.

If you can get away from your crappy job at Express for 20 minutes, you should check out Jay Brannan. He’s playing at Schubas and lucky for you you only have to be 18 to get in (as opposed to the usual 21+).

Jay Brannan
Schubas (3169 N Southport, Chicago)
Tuesday, July 14, 9 PM
$15 tickets when purchased online

Get tickets here
Facebook event is here

Fast forward a bit through the vid ’cause his announcements are old now, but the song is good.

Hey y’all,

If you’d like to receive a notification of when I update the blog, become a fan of the column on Facebook! Just click this link and then become a fan.

Many hearts,

W.T.

This may come as a surprise, but I’m the type of guy who likes to masturbate. I know, I know, you’re thinking, “Oh Liam, not you! You’re much too angelic to ever dare practice the art of burping the worm! I would never think of you as someone who dances the Sticky Page Rhumba!”

But alas, friends, I am the type of person who masturbates. I’m also kind of lazy at times. My house sits opposite a somewhat large apartment building, and apparently I should probably start pulling down the blinds. My roommates and I had a barbecue this past Saturday and a girl across the street screamed from her third story balcony, “Which of you guys has the room that we can see into?!”

“That’s mine.”

“We saw you watching porn!!!”

Well. That’s lovely. I brought this story up last night at Murphy’s with a few of my coworkers. We expanded on the topic of masturbation and one of my friends, “Jolly Jane,” mentioned that her husband would never allow her to see him masturbating. Apparently a lot of straight guys think of masturbation purely as a means of getting off. On the other hand, he would love to watch Jolly Jane masturbate. When women masturbate (and this is according to one person, but I can dig it), it becomes much more of a sexual experience. I then heard a story about how Jolly Jane masturbated on a long drive once, and even though she didn’t orgasm, it was still a noteworthy experience (and please, feel free to make as many “shifting gears” jokes as you want). One of my male coworkers, Sexy Sal, chimed in with a similar story, but it involved having to pull off to the side of the road to quickly jerk off and then wipe up with a Burger King napkin. Sal’s act was in search of instant gratification, whereas Jane’s was a bit more extensive.

Of course, we need to keep in mind that both of these fine people were driving, and that it’s a lot more difficult for a man to conceal his masturbation while driving than it is for a woman. What if these people were in their respective homes and taking their time? Is masturbation for a woman generally always sexy and is a man always just seeking a quick fix?

Clearly I cannot be certain about straight guys when it comes to masturbation, but something tells me that they’re a lot less likely to incorporate ass play into their masturbation routines. I know quite a few gay guys who are willing to use cock rings, dildos, or even just their fingers while jerking off, and it’s for this reason that I think that a gay guy is more likely to feel sexual while masturbating than a straight guy.

I can’t imagine why this would be. The more time and effort I put into masturbating, the more rewarding the experience turns out to be. So here’s my question, does the argument that straight guys find masturbation to be more of a quick fix than a sexual experience have any merit? If so, why do you think that is? And I’m not saying that straight guys don’t enjoy masturbating (cause they clearly do), but why can’t it be something that’s sexy?

I need to shower. See ya, homies.

I was in Munich a little over a week ago with my buddy Max. We had spent the day with our friends Roman and Mathias but they abandoned us midway throughout the day in order to head back to Vienna, 5 hours away. We enjoyed the rest of the day looking at cars and bikes at BMW World, listening to a weird techno band at the Olympic Stadium, eating delicious Japanese food, and walking around the city with a beer in hand.

You should know that the entire time I was in Vienna I begged my friends to take me to Sling, this creepy bar that has a piss cinema and private rooms. It was now near the end of my stay and it was clear that I wasn’t going to be able to make it to Sling, so I asked Max if there was anything comparable in Munich. He said he knew a place and that he would take me there, but that if I were to write about it, to make sure I emphasize that we went strictly for learning purposes. While this is true, you can go ahead and assume that I did EVERYTHING POSSIBLE, because it really doesn’t matter.

We went to this hotel near the gay district (if one can call it that) of Munich. It’s called the Deutsche Eiche (German Oak, common oak) and from the outside it looks like nothing more than a hotel and restaurant. We went inside and we waited next to a door. A man on the other side saw us over a television screen and buzzed us in. While the Deutsche Eiche is a hotel and a restaurant, it’s also a gay bathhouse.

As we walked through the door the guy behind the counter was already getting our towels ready. We asked for two lockers and received bracelets with our keys on them. We only had to pay 10 bucks because we were under 26 years old. You can imagine what the normal clientele is like.

Inside the locker room there were actually some pretty hot guys with washboard abs and amazing pecs. Unfortunately these were guys who were just leaving. After dropping trou and putting on our towels, we left the lockers and entered the bathhouse itself.

At first it doesn’t seem too bad. Sure it was dark and everything seemed to be in a shade of deep blue, but it wasn’t creepy. There were lots of locked rooms that you could rent in order to take care of business if you found a new friend and didn’t want to do anything in public.

That’s when I saw the armchairs. I made Max sit down with me to see if anyone would start a conversation with us. We decided to speak in English so we could say whatever we want. Of course people could understand us, but we were counting on people looking for sex and not being able to concentrate on English.

Two guys sat directly in front of us. They didn’t say a single word but they didn’t mind looking at us. Max said that the guy sitting across from us was getting an erection, which is why he kept urging me to get up so we could continue exploring.

We continued. The place is sort of like a maze in that there were corners everywhere and you never knew what was coming next. We turned one corner and all of a sudden saw 5 guys sitting next to each other on a large bench and watching porn, jacking each other off. When we continued another few feet you could see that on the other side of the wall there were holes that allowed you to watch the guys jerking off. Only one guy was using these so apparently it isn’t that popular of a feature.

We went upstairs so we could check out the rooms that involve water. The jacuzzi didn’t have many bubbles so this way you could see just how naked everyone in the tub was. Max and I must either be INCREDIBLY SEXY or these guys really just get off on young men, cause as we walked by some flaccid dick was no longer very flaccid.

Next up was the steam room, which was hotter than any steam room I had ever been in. There were two guys fucking each other but it was so dark that all we could do was see two figures moving and hear some grunting. Max burnt himself on a radiator and we then left the room. My nostrils cleared up and I could breathe in through my nose for the first time since springtime. It smelled like cum.

The final frontier was the dark room on the lower level. It was black and it was definitely another maze, because there were so many twists and turns and nooks and crannies. This was the scariest place I have ever been in my life, and I’ve been to Iowa. It felt like one of those haunted houses that you go to when you’re a kid and you hold on to shoulders of whoever is in front of you, never knowing what is going to jump out at you next. You’re walking … you’re walking … you turn the corner and BAM! THERE’S AN OLD NAKED MAN MASTURBATING! I saw some things I had never seen before, such as this behemoth of a fat man lying in a lump on a bench slowly stroking his small penis as he watched me walk by. Max leaned next to me, “If anyone touches you, feel free to hit them.”

That’s the rule, actually. There’s no unwanted touching allowed. Everything in the bathhouse is completely consensual and everyone respected this rule, at least when it came to me and Max. Sure, when we left each other to do individual exploring some guys followed each of us around, but no one ever touched and since we never gave them a signal they eventually gave up and started following someone else. They kind of reminded me of sex-craved zombies.

In fact, everyone I talked to inside was really friendly. While Max went upstairs to the steam room I chilled out in my towel in the TV room and watched Silence of the Lambs. An older guy sat next to me and we talked about how this is a great movie and how hilarious it is when Hannibal Lector manages to kill the two security guards and rips the one guy’s face off with his teeth. My worst experience inside the bathhouse was when I walked barefoot into a piece of gum that someone spit out on the floor, which, considering where I was, was really gross, but not nearly the worst that could possibly have happened.

The weird thing about this place is that after spending 2 hours in there I really got horny, even though the guys in there weren’t necessarily attractive. There’s just something about seeing that much porn and hearing that much live groaning and balls slamming into asses that really makes you want to have sex. I didn’t even jerk off, but I ended up regretting that fact a mere 30 minutes after we left the building. Max had started looking for his keys so we could drive back to Salzburg for the night but it turned out he lost them. That night I ended up sleeping on a park bench in the Olympic Stadium park and was horny as all hell.

There are several morals to this the story. First, don’t judge these places as being seedy and rape-filled. They offer condoms and all the guys were really respectful, and they seem to be more afraid of you than you are of them. Second, whenever you have the chance to masturbate, take it. You never know when you’ll have a chance to jerk it next.

Alright, so apparently I am supposed to be advocating for you all to call your local representative to vote for SB1716.

Go to this site:

http://www.ilga/house/

Also, I highly recommend

http://www.latfh.com

This one doesn’t have anything to do with gay people, but it does capture the essence that is Urbana, Illinois.

Seriously, America. I leave the country and two weeks later the California Supreme Court is voting 6-1 against gay marriage?

The No-H8 campaign has just released a PSA. Cute faces belong to Tila Tequila (fuck you I love her) and Adam Bouska. And other people who like gays.

°°°

I’m sorry I haven’t been updating. I have been having a lot of fun here in Vienna but none of it really relates to sex so it didn’t make sense to post it. All I have been doing is hanging out with my friends either swimming in mountain-surrounded seas, playing volleyball at the palace, getting a VIP tour of Parliament cause I know an awesome stenographer who got me in, running across slack lines, and drinking wine and beer like it’s nobody’s g.d. business. Oh, and I finally got my mowhawk.

It’s been an amazing time here, but no sex. How bout you guys? Any amazing stories that need to be shared? Anyone go to these protests against the Cali Supreme Court’s decision? Holler at me, homies.

It has been a pretty fantastic couple of days. I would write all about it but it’d bore the hell out of you, so I just want to tell you about two things.

The day of LifeBall I went to a brunch hosted by this Spaniard named Pelayo. We got there and he was incredibly welcoming, especially considering he didn’t know a majority of the people that tagged along in our group, myself included. Brunch for over 40 people consisted of lots of meat, speads, breads, pasta salad, and of course, a bissl Sekt zum Frühstuck. I really love that brunch is reason enough for Europeans to start drinking. The party apparently made its way through 53 bottles of champagne.

After a few good conversations about German/U.S. politics and German literature, conversation finally ended up on sex thanks to the game I Have Never, which is apparently an international hit. It was pretty awesome because the game was being carried on in 3 languages and the players came from Germany, Austria, Spain, and the U.S.

Needless to say, by the time me and my buddies made it to LifeBall that night we were pretty restless. We talked to our friends Moe and Oliver who were going to be working on the red carpet (which was actually blue this year to fit the theme of Water). Here is a pic of them being sexy Austrian sailors:

This year was different from last year in that to stand on the red carpet you had to pay an entrance fee of 13 €. That didn’t fly with my friends so we ended up ditching early and went home to watch the event on TV and continue drinking. We listened to Fran Drescher make a speech and introduce Bill Clinton. At one point Pam Anderson came on to open the fashion show (seriously, are all models fags?) and her breasts were as gigantic as ever. Katy Perry performed as a mermaid in a seashell and the background to the stage was some sort of giant Tiki head that reminded me of Legends of the Hidden Temple. There was some pretty lame ballet but I think it was only lame because I was drunk and wanted more action, like Step Up 2: The Streets. That shit is hot.

A lot of people were complaining that LifeBall is no longer about fighting HIV/AIDS, but it has morphed into a huge social event where celebrities push their own agendas. The money is all going toward fighting AIDS though, and therefore I guess it doesn’t really matter. If you want to know more about the event itself, check out my article from last year.

After watching LifeBall we continued drinking until we went to U4, this dance club with two dancing rooms: one playing techno, the other playing hits from the 60s and 70s. Obviously I stayed in the 60s/70s room because that music is way baller. A bunch of guys kept surrounding our little group because they were jonesin after our friend Luigi (she’s super hot) and one of the guys looked like that dude with the tall hair from Twilight. I mentioned this but my friends thought he was more like some guy (Brandon?) from 90210.

Now, yesterday was also pretty amazing. I went to this museum exhibit called The Porn Identity. It was basically an exhibit with lots of different forms of pornography playing. I think the intent was to show that pornography can be an artform but I’m not really sure.

The picture above is half of a single piece by Stanley Kubrick called the Korova Milkbar.

The first part of the exhibit has lots of books about porn and a bicycle that, when you pedal, moves a dildo up and down through the seat. My friend Roman yelled at me when I started pedaling the wheels to see it work but I eally couldn’t help myself. Toys like that are just begging to be played with!

The next part of the exhbit was a recreation of Lolita, except this time with lesbians. They separated the piece into 6 small rooms in which the story is carried out in various ways. The first room introduces the characters with 3 television screens, the second room has a sequence of maybe 5 or 6 photos showing the mother being killed by the car, and the third room shows a car ride shared by the young Lolita and her new caretaker. You are able to read their thoughts by way of subtitles. Then there’s a room where you are only able to hear audio of what’s going on, and in the very final room you have one screen where you see the Lolita and the caretaker having sex. Opposite of this screen is another television that is showing the older woman watching herself have sex with the young girl on the televison across from her, realizing what she is doing. It was the most complicated porn I had ever seen.

In the next section of the exhibit there were mabe 30 different televisions hanging from the ceiling with all different types of porn on them. Some porn was from the 1920s, others involved Ron Jeremy having sex with dolls that turn into real women, and then there was gay fascist porn by a guy called Bruce LaBruce, which was by far my favorite. Apparently this guy has a way of mixing porn with indie films, kind of like Donnie Darko meets Pirates except more badass. Also randomly placed in this room was a playboy pinball machine that had two giant legs coming out of the front of the machine. Naturally you insert the quarter in the vagina.

The last section was one I also deeply enjoyed. There was this piece that was basically a bunch of horse stables and it had something to do with masochism and how we treat ourselves blah blah blah artspeak blah blah blah. Then, there was this amazing (and by amazing I mean I watched it several times while I was in the room) video called Pornographic Apathetic. I was very excited to find a copy of it online and recommend that you check out the link. It’s basically 4 people having sex at a table without actually having sex or displaying emotion.

And then, as a finale, they had a bunch of TVs stacked on top of each other all playing porn, sort of like The Brady Bunch family if they were all having sex during the opening credits. I would love to show you pics but, like the video linked above, isn’t really 217 appropriate.

If you can get to Vienna in the next few days before the exhibit closes, I highly recommend checking it out. If not, uh …. I don’t know. Come over to my house and I will show you the pics. We can grill and have a few beers. It’ll be great.

In the meantime, I am gonna go wander around Vienna. Til next time, homies.

I just woke up from my first day in Vienna. It’s 8:30 here so it’s 1:30 AM in Chicago.

My sister was kind enough to drive me to Ohare for my flight at 2:30. It was going to beging boarding at 1:30 and I would be damned if I was going to miss my flight so Tara got me there by 11:30. She dropped me off at the International terminal but apparently this was the wrong place to be. United Airlines has its own terminal to itself because it’s a monstrous corporation that enjoy sucking on the credit cards of millions of Americans. From th International terminal I went to terminal 3, which is where the map said United was located. They did have a spot there, but when I talked to the guys working they said they couldn’t check in my luggage because that has to be done in the first terminal. The guys were incredibly rude and didn’t look me in the eye when they were talking to me, as if I should have known better. I was asking questions because I didn’t know better, so it was hard for me to grasp their logic.

Over the next 2 hours I killied time by eating McDonalds and talking to my buddy Mason on the phone. Then it came to board and my ticket didn’t have a seat number printed on it. United told me that they overbooked the flight by 40 people and didn’t have a seat for me and that I’d have to take another flight, even though I paid for this one.

Naturally I started freaking out. I probably sent my friends in Vienna 8 text messages before I knew which new flight I was on. The people at United were actually really nice and accomodating and got me on another flight. They also gave me a kajillion dollars in free plane tickets, so that was pretty awesome. The only problem was was that I ended up in Ohare from 11:30 AM until 9:45 PM. It was not a happy time. I killed more of my cellphone battery talking to Mason who kept me from getting pissed off about the wait time. Then I realized I left my phone charger in the kitchen of my parents’ house. Balls.

I watched the first fight scene in Kill Bill (my favorite) and checked in with Lufthansa. These guys were incredibly nice and the girl who got me my seat (window seat with a shit ton of leg room) told me about a man who was trapped in the airport for 4 days but made total bank cashing in on repeatedly overbooked flights.

I spent the next few hours walking back and forth and watching the movie Traffic. With drugs on the mind I was incredibly tempted to buy a handle of Jim Beam (duty free!) and take care of the next few hours that way. I ultimately chose against it and talked to an old woman instead. She was on my flight and told me about the first time she ever flew in a plane was from Germany to the U.S. back in the 60s. Apparentlz it was an incredibly small plane and it had to stop in Ireland and Iceland in order to make it across the entire ocean. She said it was a flight she would never forget, and therefore the reason she would never complain about long travel times.

On the plane I was seated next to Lorenzo. Lorenzo seemed like a nice guy and was talking to someone on his cell phone who I assumed was his girlfriend. We got to talking and it turns out he had previously done all kinds of work. I’m wishing I had jotted some of his multiple jobs down, but the only one I can remember is that he worked for the police at some point. I thought that odd because he had gotten his undergrad in philosophy, and now he’s working on his master’s in theology.

“Oh really? What do you plan on doing with theology?”

“Well, actually, when I finish I’ll be a priest I just hide my badge.”

At this point he slid the white collar out from underneath his black collar. I couldn’t believe that they seated me next to a Catholic priest. From Texas.

Truth be told, the guy was actually pretty baller. He told me about how in college he did do a lot of drinking and that at one point he had roommates who were always blaying up and watching porn. One of the best moments on the plane was when the babies near us were crying and screaming and he leaned over to me and said, “Seriously, celibacy really is a blessing.”

He asked what I do and I told him that aside from studying I write a sex column about gay people. I told him about the typesof articles I write and he seemed genuinely interested. He says that the Catholic church when it comes to homosexuality and that most people don’t follow the catechism, which says we should treat homos like everyone else.

He did say, however, that it’s hard for him to be in support of gay marriage. I didn’t give him a chance to explain and I told him that I didn’t want to be married in the name of his god anyway but that it’s totally bogus that a so-called religious institution is granted state rights that aren’t available to people outside the religion.

He made an argument about how we should “love the homosexual, the person.” In other words he was saing to love the sinner and hate the sin. I hate this argument and find it insulting.

He asked if I believed in God and I told him no and that it’s difficult to believe in a god when you’re told your whole life that you’re going to Hell. He told me that he didn’t want to preach, but that I shouldn’t let a bunch of ignorant people inhibit my ability to have faith in God, “He did create you in his image and he does love you.”

I neglected to mention my true religious and philosophical views are more akin to LaVeyan Satanism. I figured that this would turn into a huge (possibly uncomfortable) discussion and one that I wasn’t prepared to lose but probably would. After all, the dude studies theology and I study things like German economics. I really hate losing. Instead we brought the conversation to a close and we both watched Bolt on our miniscreens. Pretty fucking cute if I do say so myself.

I slept for a bit but not nearly long enough. The screaming children were surrounding us, but luckily they had high-pitched enough voices that it reminded me of the screams from that YouTube video, Kittens Inspired by Kittens.

After my catnap (ha.) Lorenzo and I talked a bit more, this time about an exboyfriend of mine. He had asked what I was reading, and the book I had was called Love: The Legacy of Cain by Sacher-Masoch. This is the guy they named masochism after, so it somehow came up that I dated a guy who now has a master. I told Lorenzo what I knew about it, that he is basically being dominated by this guy but also that he is the happiest he has ever been in his life. I told him that though it’s clearly an unconventional lifestyle that I have no room to judge because, after all, he really is happy. His sex life doesn’t affect my own, so why should I really give a shit that he now wears a chain around his necK?

Then we talked about soccer and developing nations and blah blah blah until we made it to Munich. In Munich I hung out with this girl named Anna who had overheard me talking to Lorenzo about going to U of I. She is also a history major here but we never took any classes together. Naturally we started talking about Polish people and how they’re ostracized to the back of the airport where no one can see them.

I had to take a bus to my next flight. On the bus an old Asian man with a cane fell asleep and leaned on my shoulder. How he managed to do this in the 7 minute bus ride is unbelievable.

I finally ended up in Vienna and my buddies were all there to greet me. They brought me back to my buddy Christian’s place where I showered and had delicious espresso.

We went to a restaurant called 7 Sterne and I had a huge plate of some form of schnitzel with a half liter of beer. Freaking delicious. I was getting sleepy but after a while we went to the Museums Quartier where I was able to drink wine and meet up with a lot of friends I hadn’t seen in a year, including my buddy Sule who actually goes to Bradley back home in Illinois. Sule and I have decided to make this trip of mine as sexual as possible so hopefully in the next few days I will write about a museum installation called The Porno Identity as well as this incredibly skanky club called Sling. It’s going to be a blast.

Tonight I’ll be visiting the LifeBall at the city’s rathaus. Apparently Bill Clinto, Fran Drescher, Katy Perry, and Pam Anderson will all be in attendance. I am so fucking stoked.

I haven’t written anything since I talked to y’all about blowjobs, and for that I apologize. Like the rest of you I had finals and final papers and so many reasons to not write anything unless it was a part of my grade. I wrote a 10 page report on a Bible, friends. A goddamnmothafuckin Bible. Anyway, I had other things on my mind.

And now, in about an hour and a half, I’m leaving for the airport to fly to Vienna to see my homies. Now, here’s my question to you, would you be horribly offended if instead of choosing a topic to write about like masturbation or blowjobs or faghags or those guys that are seeking to infect themselves with AIDS because it’s a noble disease holy shit what the fuck are they thinking, would you guys mind horribly if for the next 3 weeks I just posted more of a diary of my whereabouts in Vienna? I promise, I’ll let you know about every Hungarian I meet and make out with and invite to a museum to look at pretty pictures of Klimt. Every last one.

In other words, what I’m trying to tell you is that I’m a lazy bastard, and if I’m going to write while I’m on vacation it’s going to have to be about things that I like writing about, like Hungarians. And schnitzel sandwiches. Seriously, if you haven’t had one, you are missing out friend.

Of course this means I’ll also be plaguing With Tongue with pictures and videos of the cute people I meet along the way. If there’s anything I’ve learned about Austria it’s that there are plenty of pretty people to visualize while having sex.

So, if it’s cool with you guys, that’s what I’m gonna do. But if you’re gonna just complain about how I’m turning into Anne Frank (bad hair and all) then I’d really rather wait to write ’til I get back.

Alright homies, hope you’re keeping it real and having a good start to your summer. See you in Wien.