Scruff

Scruff, if you didn't know, is a gay hook-up app for the iphone.  It's pretty interesting to me because I don't know anybody who's hooked up on it. I am sure people do, but like everything online, it's all just posturing and shit like that.

Personally, I've never been successful with hooking up online, probably because people see "Asian" and immediately think "bottom," "small dick" or "prissy" which is quite puzzling to me.  Why would they think that when I lie about it in my online profile? They must have internet telepathy or something.  Anyway, I know it's because I'm Asian because I created the same exact online profile as a white dude and you wouldn't believe how many guys wanted to fuck me. Whatevs. Online, people want/need/have to rely on stereotypes because the reality is, you can't really tell what a person is like based on their online profile, no matter how long you've been texting with them. In fact, the longer you've been texting instead of meeting, the more likely the other guy's a complete troll, despite their picture.

There is actually another app just like Scruff and it is more popular, but I got banned from it because of my "suggestive" profile.  Seriously? It's a fucking hook-up app. What fantasy land were they living on? People aren't going to become friends using this app. Don't they know that gay men don't become friends unless they have sex first?

Anyway, to prove to you that it doesn't matter what's in your profile, it's your picture that counts, the following is my actual profile on Scruff. 

Username mankini

What I Do
In my head I like to think that I am a little like Paul Rudd, charming, sensitive and maybe just a little dopey.  But nope, I'm just a scumbag.

I don't have hair on my face, my chest or around my sphincter. It's not a character flaw--it's just my own brand of super power.  I have a beard though. Her name's Suzy.  She's awesome in family gatherings, but less awesome at Steamworks.

I'm the kind of guy that will turn my underwear inside out when I run out.  They are $50 each please.

I used to lie in my online profiles and feel guilty about it. But then I got laid so I got over it.

Activities and Interests
Books Beats Comics Vids 6string Apms Manga Pr0n Weights Rock Tats Roofies Coq (au vin) Alcohol

Super friendly
but only when I'm drunk. Otherwise, I'm a super friendly douche.

Been known to use drills, hammers and wrenches, you know, like an interior decorator.  Hey those Elfa closet shelves aren't gonna put themselves up.

Life's a box of chocolates, then you eat them and get fat and depressed and you eat another box. I'd rather snort coke.

Let's play. Guitar.

What I'm looking for
Friends--somebody to do jeagerbombs with after dumping the body in my rape van.

I know this sounds all snarky and maybe even brainy but that doesn't mean that I'm not shallow.  Which means I have very low standards. And herpes.

You would fuck me, right?

The Top Bunk

My friend Scott spent the past weekend bitching about how there were so few "quality tops" in town for a ravenous bottom such as he. I am not really sure how he defines "quality." Since he’s already fucked everybody in town, I think all he’s looking for is a cock to stuff his ass--personality or personal hygiene be damned.

I made a comment that maybe he should consider a change and be the top for awhile. His panties got all in a bunch; he said that he was a bottom through-and-through and he was damn proud of it. If anybody needs to change, it was me and my scornful attitude towards bottoms. He commented that my attitude towards bottoms was thinly veiled misogyny because bottoms are commonly viewed as the "feminine" partner.

Some of you, as Scott did, may point out that my 'panties in a bunch' comment is proof of this, since it is disparaging of women. But I defended my position by saying I have nothing against women, just those who wear underwear. Panties are so uncivilized and unsanitary, next thing you'll be telling me is that women are still having periods (although probably not Terri Schiavo because she was in a coma*).

However, it did make me consider my position on this issue, philosophically and literally.

But before that, for those of you who are unfamiliar with these terms I will briefly explain them here:

Top – the insertive partner, the "fucker"
Bottom – the receptive partner, the "fuckee"

There are also some claims about the existence of the all-powerful Versatile Ones, where they can be tops or bottoms at will--although mostly it seems to be like myth or legend or rumors of Anna Nicole Smith's career.

To add some more confusion here, in sadomasochistic circles, a top is defined to be the dominant one and the bottom, the submissive, regardless of insertion. I think we can safely say that Dubya is Cheney’s bitch and I mean that in a totally un-ironic way.

Some tops seem to think that being a top is some sort of career. Let me tell ya, sticking an appendage into a hole is not a career. Besides, the closest job was already taken by a little Dutch boy who stuck his finger into the dike and saved his village (although I hear he grew up near the Warmoesstraat). Hell, I didn't see any tops come forward when Katrina hit Louisiana. Maybe New Orleans wouldn't have been flooded.

Bottoms aren't any better, especially the ones who call themselves "aggressive bottoms." They are so demanding. It's "fuck me harder, fuck me hard, FUCK. ME. HARD. DER." all the time. All the screaming and moaning seriously makes me go limp. I'd like for you to shut up when I am fucking you. And if you could shut up when I am watching TV and eating dinner too, that would be just peachy.

People also argue about whether it’s the guy on the top bunk or the bottom bunk who is in charge in sex. Tops feel that they're in charge, well, quite simple-mindedly, because they're on top. Bottoms think they're in charge because they have to give the "permission." Plus, they can bitch a lot longer. I happen to think it's the one whose name is on the lease.

Me? I’ve been a top and I've been a bottom. Once, a guy asked me which position I preferred. "What business is it of yours, motherfucker?" I replied. "This is a $25 blowjob. If you want conversation, that will be another $50."

If I were honest, I would say that I liked the position where I am not paying the rent, whichever position that would be.

But I think we all agree that top or bottom, there are benefits to being either. I mean, it's a good thing anal sex feels sooo good because, you know man: shit? It's disgusting.

In matters of love and lust, what does it matter which position you play? You do the dishes; he walks the dog. You're in charge of all things plumbing; he supervises the gardening. You cook him dinner; he cleans out your bank account, kidnaps your dog and runs off with the gardener. Of all the daily battles you have with your beloved, being the fucker vs the fuckee soon fade into insignificance.

In either position, we have our crosses to bear, even though we may not like them. A close friend once complained to me about how his partner was a big ole nag, and I said to him, "well that's what you get for being in a relationship with a horse." He was into bestiality.

You do what it takes to make the relationship work. And it's hard, man. They don't tell you this stuff in gay Charm School; all they teach you is how to color-coordinate your outfits. You have to learn this the hard way, just like the way you learned how to give a proper blowjob: through experience, and the pain of knowing what it feels like to have teeth scraping on your cock.

You learn that you make compromises. You learn new roles, new ways to make it work. Even if that means you have to take it in the ass once in a while.

Just don't forget to douche.


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*Comma, get it? :P

Of Love and Perversion

For the gay community in Chicago, Memorial Day weekend marks the annual International Mr. Leather (IML) competition. For the uninitiated, "leather" refers to a subculture that celebrates hyper-masculinity, sadomasochism, bondage and some really bad pleather.

Let’s get this straight, so to speak, sadomasochism or SM, was not invented by the gays. This subculture of inflicting pain on someone you love has been around since the dawn of history. I can give you example upon example: the Marquis de Sade, Whitney and Bobby, God and almost everybody in the Old Testament.

Ok, domestic violence is not the same as SM, where the participants must be sane and consensual. Whitney would probably realize that she is not in an SM relationship if she stopped snorting cocaine for 10 minutes.

Gay people are used to pain. It is inflicted on us by those who love us; we inflict it on ourselves. No wonder we’re fucked-up. It is not a stretch for someone who has been bombarded with pain to confuse that emotion with love. I have read many a blog where gay men despair of ever finding love. We have become so used to people telling us they love us, all the while inflicting pain that we have difficulty dissociating one from the other.

When society tells you that your love is a perversion, that you have to hide it, keep it in the closet, never celebrate your love, then how can this make you happy? If we subscribe to these rules, then homosexuals are doomed to be unhappy from the start.

Let me put it this way, if African Americans accepted their station in life, slavery would still be in effect; we would be wearing our pants around our waists instead of our hips; Eddie Murphy would not be an Ass in the movies.

When the people who are anti-gay cite the perversion of homosexuals, they often point to transvestites and leatherfolk. What they fail to say is that the overwhelming majority of these people are heterosexual. Yes, this means that there are men who love having sex with their wives all the while thinking about wearing their lacy, pink panties. Are these men perverted? Only if the panties are cheap Agent Provocateur imitations.

If you ask me, the only thing the homosexuals are guilty of is that we have a tendency to put sequins on everything and we love parades. If people were going to hate us for being ourselves, then by God, we will look good while we’re at it. The sewing machine is mightier than the sword.

If we really want to talk about perversion, then let’s talk about the torture of the prisoners in Abu Ghraib, the majority of whom are civilian detainees. Let’s talk about how the military forced them to perform homosexual acts on each other. Let’s be clear here, the perversion is not the acts themselves, but the systematic, willful humiliation and degradation the prisoners were subjected to.

Before you say that homosexuals are perverted, let the first man in Abu Ghraib cast the first stone.

NEXT: My friend Han and I visit the IML festivities