Emailing with this guy was like counting cockroaches:

* make us famous

not only is it gross, but knowing you have nothing better to do makes you hate your soul slightly. I was extremely surprised when he turned up; less surprised that by “sensual and handsome 57 years young” he meant Truman Capote’s bloated straight brother. An immediate tongue insertion ensued, after which I threatened his life and he quieted down. I’d peg him as a 66 on the psychopath scale, which skirts my automatic ejection policy by two-thirds of a percent, so we settled into it.