On a “mobile dating app” where a homosexual might forgo a friendly “hello” in favor of an unsolicited “cock pic” to drum up a little conversation, users of Grindr have voiced concerns this week about privacy. That’s after BuzzFeed broke news that Grindr shared its users’ HIV status, intimate sexual details, and other sensitive information with third-party software vendors. Amid the backlash, Grindr said it would stop the practice.
Early Thursday morning, Grindr took to its own platform to send users a message from its Vice President of Social Impact. In a video statement, Jack Harrison-Quintana starts out with an apology from everyone “at the Grindr team for all the distress that we’ve caused over the last forty-eight hours.”
In the two-minute and forty-six-second video, Harrison-Quintana (who is also founder of Grindr for Equality) explains that the company only shared information about HIV-status with “trusted contractors” who help roll out new software features and updates.
“We have never and would never sell any user data, especially HIV information to advertisers or anyone else,” Harrison-Quintana said.
Since its launch in 2009, Grindr has grown quickly into “the world’s largest social networking app for gay, bi, trans, and queer people.” More than three-million active users log onto the mobile app as many as eighteen times a day, spending an average of fifty-four minutes “connecting with other men in the area who want to chat and meet up.”
Last year, Grindr introduced a new profile feature apparently designed to address the “anxiety about bringing up sexual health in conversation.” Users may self-report HIV-status. Disclosure is completely optional. The company most recently announced a new feature that allows users to receive reminders to get screened for HIV and other STIs routinely every three or six months.
Read it and weep, my fellow homosexuals. In response to an anti-online sex trafficking bill, Craigslist has pull the plug on its personals sections–including the popular “Men Seeking Men” category–indefinitely.
Craigslist’s straight forward post about its reaction to the bill commonly known as FOSTA (Fight Online Sex Trafficking Act).
Representative Ann Wagner (R-Mo.) introduced the Fight Online Sex Trafficking Act (FOSTA) as H.R. 1865 in April 2017. It’s designed to create stiffer penalties for websites that help facilitate prostitution or sex trafficking. The goal is to provide justice for victims and offer law enforcement new tools to prosecute offenders. Apart from its otherwise good intentions, the measure appears to have a chilling effect on free speech online.
On Wednesday, the U.S. Senate voted 97-2 in favor of the bill. It now heads to President Trump to sign into law. Read the full text of FOSTA here.
In the digital dating age, mobile apps allow homosexuals to hide behind our phones— escaping that oh-so-familiar “fear of rejection” as we blindly swipe left or right only to ignore our “collection” of matches. Modern dating has its perks, but it’s increasingly difficult to meet people in “real life.” Wouldn’t it be nice to say, “We met in the produce aisle at the local grocery store.”?
That’s where German supermarket REWE comes into play with anyone who’s single and ready to mingle. The company extended store hours to host its first ever “Single Shopping Nite,” Friday, encouraging guests to “flirt between the shelves” at one of its Hamburg locations.
Join us “for good music, a welcome drink, entertainment and a relaxed atmosphere,” read an open invitation on Facebook. “And who knows, maybe you’ll ‘really get to know somebody in the supermarket.'” Couples (swingers?) were also welcome to attend. Kinky!
All kidding aside, as I canvased the aisles as a casual, outside observer, I couldn’t help but notice the very primal aspect of the obvious PR event—catering to very basic human instincts to hunt, gather, and mate in surroundings we typically don’t consider romantic.
“Dare I linger in the personal hygiene section?” I thought. “Oooh, look at that one. Too bad he’s wearing a ring. Could all of this give a whole new meaning to ‘clean up in aisle seven?!'”
I found myself congregating with other like-minded people who enjoy free samples, sinking my teeth into a “Hamburg boy” (a hot dog suggestively filled with white cheese) at one station and nibbling from a fruit platter at another station before finally refilling my beverage.
Suddenly, I started having visions of the lengths one of my favorite sitcom characters would go to just to meet a man:
I digress.
We live in an era where mobile apps put thousands of potential partners in the palms of our hands. Yet the dating game still seems quite isolating because we often fail to go beyond surface-level connections, settling instead for instant gratification. A shopping night for singles at a grocery store (nostalgic to say the least) offers yet another option for people who want meaningful relationships but don’t know how or where to find one.
Why are we so careless with each other’s emotions? I gather heterosexuals are not immune from similar disregard, but homosexual men–with an overpowering (and in some cases insatiable) sexual appetite–seem to take it to an extreme. Lusting for “cock, cum, piss, boy hole” (or whatever else floats your boat), it’s alarming what we’re willing to sacrafice for purely physical, erotic encounters: the truth. That is what makes our interactions with each other beyond degrading.
“What a Tangled Web We Weave When First We Practice to Deceive.”
It’s puzzling how a homosexual’s dick can manage to grow a few inches with every passing fib, but he–who we’ll call Pinocchio–managed to get it up even as he found himself tangled in a web of lies.
We met at a party in Brooklyn. After a passing, provocative glance, we struck up conversation. Naturally, it didn’t take too long before he brought up sex.
“You look like a top,” Pinocchio said, somehow amazed that I’m anything but. “You should really try it sometime. You have no idea what you’re missing.”
“That’s rich, coming from the competition,” I initially joked. Up close, I noticed an overall glazed look in his bloodshot eyes. He nervously twitched and repeated himself. “Alright, I think I’m done here.”
“Wait! You mean, you don’t want to fuck me?”
“Not if you were the last homosexual in the world,” I said, attempting to walk away. Then he grabbed me.
“You can do it raw.”
“There again, we’re not compatible. I’m safe only.”
“Ugh! For real? Come on, dude. Forget condoms. Be a man.”
“Oh! Good for you! Now you’re going to school me on what it’s like to be a ‘man’? Tell me, who’s keeping you company right now–beyond Mary Jane? Let me guess, Tina? Molly?”
“I don’t do drugs,” he stuttered and hesitated.
“Now you’ve just lied to me.”
“You’re on PrEP, aren’t you?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
“That’s right. Are you on PrEP?”
“Well,” he hesitated again, “yeah. I’m clean. It’s totally safe.”
“Boy you are the worst liar! Strike two!”
“Well,” he corrected himself. “I’m undetectable. So that’s the same as you being on PrEP.”
“Strike three! You’re out. How the <insert choice word here> do you go from being ‘clean’ and on ‘PrEP’ to ‘undetectable’?”
By now, he looked mortified and completely ashamed–as well he should.
“Get the hell out of my face before I rearrange yours!” The anger had set in. “If you have the audacity to look me in the eyes and lie, brace yourself <insert choice word again> because I will make you feel as tall as that three-and-a-half-inch floppy undoubtedly shriveling right now behind your <insert yet another choice word> pants.”
It’s not altogether off-putting to learn that Pinocchio is HIV+. The issue is he lied about it (and so much more).
This most recent example is one of a myriad where I’ve caught some idiot lying through his teeth. Granted, not everyone goes as far, but consider all of those who hold themselves out as single and available only to confess at a later point that they’re involved in an open relationship or better yet, married–to a homosexual or a woman (you can never be sure these days). I’m particularly amused by those who offer an alias to start and share their real name only after the first date, despite several weeks of playing “getting to know you” with a spirited round of 20-questions on some dating app. Suddenly Jake becomes Dave who’s hanging onto his early thirties by staking a claim that he’s thirty-two, when in fact he’s closer to rounding forty. That’s disappointing, yes. But it cuts even deeper.
The foundation of any healthy relationship (be that with a professional acquaintance, close personal friend, casual sex partner, or romantic interest) is trust. When we constantly form first impressions of each other based on false information and inaccurate representations, we rob ourselves of the potential to achieve anything worthwhile. We relegate ourselves to a position far inferior to anything an outside member could dare to attempt with anti-gay slurs, homophobic remarks, or violence. For a community that has overcome so much adversity and achieved so much toward the path to equality, we become our own worst enemies when we choose to lie to each other with little respect for the consequences.
Last night, I let a one night stand go in without protection.
For most homosexuals these days, “raw” or “bareback” sex is no big deal. With the advent of PrEP (or what I call “homosexual birth control“), everyone’s doing it. But I’ve always maintained we should exercise a little more caution when we find ourselves in the company of strangers; that we should refrain from using the little blue pill as a license to have unprotected sex. Condoms offer additional protection against HIV and other STIs. PrEP provides an added peace of mind.
Or so I thought.
The morning after, I’m finding little comfort in the knowledge that “PrEP reduces your risk of HIV infection by over 90-percent.” That’s because it does little to stave off this overwhelming sense of disappointment that I put myself in a vulnerable position and allowed someone to violate me physically (putting aside the obvious impact on my emotional and mental well-being).
I made a mistake.
As someone who insists on protection, I find myself feeling largely marginalized (dare I say, ostracized) from the seemingly vast majority of homosexual society who’ve pledged allegiance to condomless sex. The pool of available candidates becomes exceptionally shallow when (at the very least) half the swimmers on homosexual dating apps explicitly state that they’re seeking “raw” or “bareback” sex because they’re on PrEP.
It leaves yours truly feeling stranded.
But if any good is to come of this situation, it strengthens my resolve: I’m not so lonely and desperate for affection that I’m ever willing to compromise my virtue again, certainly not for for some fleeting moment. If that means remaining isolated because I refuse to engage in what the popular “in crowd” is doing, so be it.
Once again, I find myself the owner of a broken heart. Suddenly Nazareth’s “Love Hurts” takes on profound meaning as I sob into a martini glass with only the olives staring back at me.
“Love is like a cloud. It holds a lot of rain.”
For the first time in my adult life, I confided (as distinguished from expressed) to someone that I have feelings for him. He’s not available for a multitude of reasons; chief among them–he’s “involved.” We’ll leave it there.
In an attempt to drink my sorrows away, I actually had a moment of clarity–a sobering thought (if you will). Love really shouldn’t hurt. It’s wasting feelings on the wrong person that cuts like a knife.
So what’s a homosexual to do? Naturally, I’ve turned to a familiar vice: sex.
If there’s any truth to the study, semen apparently helps fight depression. According to scientists at The State University of New York, “the white stuff” has “mood-alterning chemicals…that elevate mood, increase affection, induce sleep and also contain at least three anti-depressants.”
Granted, the research is based on a survey of 293 women. But that doesn’t change the fact that a top’s load could inject into his receptive partner’s mouth “thyrotropin-releasing hormone (another antidepressant), melatonin (a sleep-inducing agent), and even serotonin (perhaps the best-known antidepressant neurotransmitter).”
I’ve previously likened a hot specimen’s “gelatinous muck” to caviar and divulged to readers that I consider it a “homosexual’s delicacy.” With seven calories per serving (assuming a teaspoon), it’s certainly diet-friendly. Who knew it might offer a cure for those moments when life’s got us down?!
I lie awake most nights because I’m too scared to fall asleep. My sense and fear of loneliness is that overpowering. At the end of the day, all I really want is someone to hold me. Then perhaps I’d feel safe enough to close my eyes (for more than four hours at a stretch).
What is it about someone’s embrace that provides a sense of security much like a blanket offers a child? Someone familiar. Or, at the very least, someone who seems familiar.
I’ve spent years in therapy trying to chip away at the concrete surrounding my heart. A wall recently came down during a most unsuspecting moment just as a little boy tumbled off his father’s shoulders and smacked his head on the pavement. In the chaos that followed, I found myself completely enamored with the way his parents (despite the tension and panic) spoke to each other. Each reacted in his and her own way, but they both managed to stay in remarkable control of their feelings. They showed compassion and respect for each other.
Most homosexuals I’ve encountered lack that emotional capacity (including yours truly). That’s why we move on from one guy to the next, treating this homo and that other one as a means to an end with complete and total disregard for the outcome. How are we so careless towards one another?
I don’t believe in much, but I’ve always maintained that the more we experience, the greater clarity we have on the life we want to live. Not only do I want, I need a boyfriend (partner) who’s tender, patient, and nurturing. By no means does that mean settle. Quite the opposite actually. Sensitivity arguably provides more comfort than muscle and a manly physique could ever dream of offering.
Earlier this month, The New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene released a video that every homosexual should watch. That’s particularly true for those who take Truvada as PrEP and use it as a license to have unprotected sex.
The video defines Prep as “an easy to take daily pill that reduces your risk of HIV infection by over 90-percent. If you’re positive, HIV treatment can keep viral loads undetectable and your partner safe.”
“Condoms,” the narrator adds, “provide additional protection against HIV and other STIs.”
This is an important distinction at a time when 44.5-percent of men who have sex with men in New York have apparently abandoned condoms and STIs are gaining ground. Syphilis is trending among gay men. Homosexuals make up 83-percent of all such cases in the city. Gonorrhea is also on the rise, with a 50-percent increase in cases among men between 2000 and 2013.
If you are what you eat and you’ve swallowed some random dude’s “manhood” lately, take a look at this (you might want to stick your finger down your throat and call your doctor):
“Play sure,” The New York City Health Department says. “That means finding the right protection combination that works for you.”
That combination might look something like this: 1. Taking medicines to treat or prevent HIV; 2. Using condoms as often as possible; and 3. Using plenty of water-based or silicon-based lube.
Finally, get tested. Homosexuals should get their blood drawn every three to six months.
Good things come in small packages. The David Dopp Kit is proof. Not only is it a grower; it’s also a shower. That makes it a perfect holiday gift for the homosexual on-the-go.
The skincare set features four MENAJI products in a clear-front zippered pouch. Another zipper pulls back and allows the bag to expand to almost three times its original size.
“‘David’ has plenty of room for more products and essentials while traveling,” the company pointed out in a September 2015 press release. The dopp kit is apparently part of a “fleet” (one of our favorite weeks) of sleek and sturdy travel kits designed for a man’s active lifestyle (and homosexuals are among the most active). Each bag is made with water and stain-resistant (we all know that’s important) ballistic nylon… in black (this is TOO perfect).
It’s what’s on the inside that really matters though. That’s where David’s got you covered with a full line of products well-suited for the beauty queen in all of us:
911 Eye Gel – rejuvenates and restores tired eye skin area (perfect after a rough [one-night] stand)
Power Hydrator Aftershave – natural hydrating formula addresses fine lines and wrinkles
Deep Cleansing Masque – removes impurities so skin looks renewed and feels revived
ClearShave 3-in-1 Formula – delivers maximum comfort pre-shave, shave and post-shave; no water needed
Suggested retail value for the David Dopp Kit is $135.95. For a limited time though, you can get your hands on it for $95.00. Order here.
MENAJI has also offered to give away a David Dopp Kit to one lucky Bobbing for Apples reader! Tell me how you would take advantage of the expandable pouch this holiday season. Enter here for your chance to win.
I take my coffee just as I prefer my men: dark, strong, and full of cream. On that note, Dancing Moon Coffee Company’s Sumatra Mandheling roast really struck a chord. One could say it put my homosexual butt over the moon!
“In a crowded field, Dancing Moon Coffee stands out as a premium brand,” said Susan Hale, a spokesperson for the brand. “The product line focuses on beans from the world’s best single source plantations.”
In order to maximize flavor, Dancing Moon Coffee roasts its beans in small batches. It’s strictly organic, mold-free, and fair trade compliant. Each cup delivers nearly three times the antioxidant power of great tea.
Research suggests Dancing Moon Coffee may very well make a good stocking stuffer for that special someone in your life because it could improve your sex life. A recent University of Texas study found that men who drink two cups of Joe each day are 42-percent less likely to suffer from erectile dysfunction compared to men who don’t. Apparently that’s because caffeine triggers a chemical reaction that increases blood flow to man’s main muscle.
While we’re on the subject of men, it may interest you to know that Dancing Moon Coffee donates a portion of its proceeds to our lovely men in uniform. Five-percent of all profits go to the Semper Fi Fund, which was set up post-9/11 to provide immediate financial assistance and lifetime support to wounded and critically ill members of the U.S. Armed Forces.
You can purchase Dancing Moon Coffee on Amazon.com.
Bobbing for Apples in the Big Apple 
