If I ever see Mark Zuckerberg in public, I’m going to walk right up to him and tell him to eat a dick. Maybe I’ll punch him in the face. Maybe I’ll just keep on walking. After all, jail is no place for a delicate flower like me. Still, I’ll at least give him the finger. (For legal purposes, let me be clear: I’m not going to attack Fuckerberg—I mean, Zuckerberg. Small joke.) Though, the same thought is present for the dimwit who created Twitter, Instagram . . . What the hell? Let’s throw in the founders of Snapchat, Tumblr, TikTok, Telegram, Grindr, porn sites, and any other app that . . .
I can’t believe I’m writing this blog article. I can’t believe it’s necessary for me to write this blog article. Yet, here we are: sipping on hard seltzers and gossiping about sex, love, relationships, and the gay community. Fascinating stuff, really. Cue the eye roll. I partly blame myself. If you’re new to my work, shame on you. I wrote an article last year: “Be Careful What You Wish For.” Apparently, though, I didn’t read it. Too many times I’ve wished for a life similar to Carrie Bradshaw’s. Hell, I even refer to myself as “the male Carrie Bradshaw.” So, here we are: drinking hard . . .