“Take 1 capsule 1 to 3 times daily.”

I miss great sex.

Not good sex. Not okay sex. I mean hot, sweaty, ass-slapping, lip-nibbling, leaving-footsteps-on-the-wall, back-scratching, loud as hell, “what’s my motherfucking name?” type sex. It’s been longer than I can remember since I’ve had that — we’re talking well before the pandemic — and now that the seasons are switching from summer to fall, the distant memories of fucks gone by are resurfacing with alarming clarity.

That not to say I haven’t been getting it in, but casual sex during this time is even riskier than ever. And what’s worse, men I’ve encountered are at peak horniness due to the lockdowns and quarantining. Just look at Twitter. There’s a whole not-so-hidden underbelly of The Bird that is filled with homemade videos of all kinds of sex acts (most for sale on OnlyFans, which really should be its own separate post). Who needs to shell out cash for Grindr or Scruff subscriptions when you’ve got equal access to pretty much whatever you’re looking for sexually for free?

Speaking of #theapps, the pandemic has not stopped the constant onslaught of sex on these platforms. Men are either looking to fuck, get fucked, or they’re shaming others for wanting to fuck or get fucked. Don’t get me started on how angry so many dudes appear on #theapps.

Maybe they would be nicer if they were getting laid more?

As nice as it’s been to remember my past sexcapades, I just haven’t been interested in sex at all since this pandemic started taking hold here. A blowjob here and there would be nice to take the edge off, but I think I’m getting desensitized to the real thing because I’m bombarded with all this sex on social media and #theapps. Being that hypersexual right from the start is a huge turn-off, even if I am in the mood.

I will say this: the time I’ve spent with myself during this quarantine has made me realize how much I miss intimacy. Cuddling, making out, spooning…I miss that shit something serious. Some of my fondest moments with men have been those kind of tender experiences. Times when we can let our guards down and be soft with each other without judgment or shame.

Man, what I wouldn’t give right now to just lay up with a dude and chat with him, nuzzle close to him, and just share a quiet moment with amidst all this COVID-19 nonsense. That would get my motor running. 

Where’s the app or the OnlyFans account for that? 😩

Dating Sex

“Every decision is a risk. Every risk is a decision.”

I read this piece on FiveThirtyEight a few days back about the coronavirus, and this part jumped out at me:

We can’t live like we did before coronavirus. We won’t live like we did immediately after it appeared, either. Instead, we’re in the muddy middle, faced with choices that seem at once crucial and impossible, simple and massively complicated. These choices are an everyday occurrence, but they also carry a moral weight that makes them feel different than picking a pasta sauce or a pair of shoes. In a pandemic that’s been filled with unanswerable questions and unwinnable wars, this is our daily Kobayashi Maru. And no one can tell us exactly what we ought to do.

All you have to do is turn on the news or pop on over to Instagram and you can see that scores of people are just going on about life and traveling and socializing and fucking like the virus just doesn’t even exist. And if you’ve been one of the people who are staying inside, fastidiously cleaning surfaces and delivery orders, and just keeping to yourself, seeing these folks just being out and living freely can stir up a number of feelings. Jealousy over not being able to do what they’re doing. Disgust at them cavorting about unmasked and not practicing social distancing. Anger because you know this will just fuel lawmakers to cause more lockdowns or restrictions. Confusion as to how anyone can still go about life after a virus has killed 150,000 Americans over the past six months.

For me, it’s been a mix of all of these things, which — surprisingly enough — make GREAT filters for weeding out dudes that I encounter on #theapps.

Even GQ believes me:

Talking about health and boundaries in the beginning stages of courtship may seem counterproductive to the sexy vibes you’re no doubt trying to manifest. But since it affects literally everyone, it’s far more inconsiderate not to acknowledge it.

So while I’ve been sitting at home self-quarantining, every time I chat it up with some random dude, I’m sizing them up based on how serious they’re taking this virus. And this far into the pandemic, it’s not looking good. I start tamping down my anger when they say they’re still hitting the bars. I keep my mouth shut when they say they’re not wearing a mask. A younger, brasher me would have went off, but the seasoned ol’ badger you see before you just plays it cool and blocks them as the conversation drifts to nowhere.

But I realize that I’m in a very privileged position. I can work from home. My work doesn’t even require me to leave my home. I’m good financially during this time. I have no kids. I’m single. I live alone. I can make my own schedule. My friends and I are keeping in contact responsibly via technology and not in person. Maybe that combination of factors isn’t likely the same for anyone else I’m encountering on #theapps. Or maybe I’m using the wrong app? (Who the hell knows these days. Even LinkedIn is a hookup app.)

I probably shouldn’t even be on #theapps, but look what the boredom of this self-quarantine is driving me to do. Blergh.

I Be Tweetin'

“A study in contradictions…?”

From The Desk of Karsh

“Chile, it’s all a blur at this point.”

Hey, hi, hello, yo, what’s up?

*sigh* I’m tired, y’all. (That could be this whole post, honestly, but I owe you and me a bit more than that.)

These past few months of unemployment during this pandemic have been wildly busy. I’ve been taking calls with people to catch up, as well as responding back to some email requests, mainly so I can keep my name and work out there (hello momentum!) but also so I don’t focus on everything else happening in this country right now. I had told some people that I was going to treat this time as a period of rest and relaxation, but my Type A personality stepped in and shut that down real quick.

Don’t even get me started on the stress around just re-doing my resume so I can start applying for jobs.

Anyway, it’s now the middle of July here, and with coronavirus cases hitting record highs every day, it’s pretty clear that we’re not going to see the end of this shit for a very long time. Spend a few minutes on Instagram on Twitter and you’ll see that people are not social distancing, not wearing masks, and just carrying on with their regular summer routines like this virus hasn’t already killed almost 140,000 people THIS YEAR. I’ve pretty much cancelled any plans that involve me hopping on a plane, crossing state lines, or at this point, leaving the city in any form of mass transit.

Video games and vaping have been my saving grace. I’ve sunk over 500 hours into Animal Crossing: New Horizons, and now that my island is like I want it, I’m slowly getting back into other games I’ve bought over the months and years. (Still ain’t beat Persona 5 yet, but it is pretty to look at.) Aside from some edibles, my stash of hash is quickly dwindling, so I already know the first thing I’m doing when this country is in the free and clear is traveling to a city where weed is legal and I’m buying up a small fortune of vape cartridges. (I have CBD ones too, but they just help me sleep.)

All this free time and restricted movement has given me time to catch up on television shows, movies, and even do some reading — all things I usually put on the back burner when I’m in my regular routine. I also have more time than ever to dwell on being single and sexless right now, but we’ll save talking about that for another time.

Hell, it almost took me two months just to get THIS post out. Baby steps, y’all.

Asides Work

“I got laid off from my job yesterday.”

From The Desk of Karsh

“65 days and counting.”

The last time I left the house to be among society was on March 14.

I left home that morning to go and vote early for this year’s presidential race. Little did I know this would be the last time in a long time that I would probably be among actual people without fear of catching a highly contagious airborne virus that could kill us all.

It’s now Day 65 of being in self-isolated quarantine, which is a lot like Day 64 which is a lot like Day 44 which is like every day since March 14. People ask me how am I holding up and the answer is…okay, I guess? I’m taking things day by day, and some days, hour by hour. I’ve been working remotely for over a decade, and my current gig is also remote, so there were no interruptions. I was already getting groceries delivered because I live in a food desert, and meeting up with friends happened sporadically enough to still maintain relationships but also enjoy copious amounts of me time.

I mean, I should be KILLING this quarantine shit, right?! I’ve got time now to pursue creative endeavors! Read more books! Cook more! Reconnect with people without putting on pants! And yet, most days have consisted of an 8-hour sprint of Zoom calls and Google Hangouts for work followed by smoking weed, ordering delivery for dinner and playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons. Some days I’ll even throw in a catnap or two.

You might’ve noticed that I referred to my quarantine as self-isolated: spoiler alert — it wasn’t always that way. As of April 30, Georgia’s shelter-in-place orders were lifted, and businesses have been re-opening here in waves. We’re three weeks out now, and well…Atlanta is open. But cases here have not been dropping, folks are not wearing masks, and social distancing is not happening. I’m sure you’ve seen the videos and news stories of people being accosted (and in one case, killed) over enforcing masks or not staying at least 6 feet away from others. Add to that the stigma around Black folks wearing face masks, and I do not see myself being in anyone’s public place of business for the rest of the year. (Look, I saw Watchmen.) And you can forget about me hopping on a plane anytime soon.

I know this isn’t sustainable. And I know it really isn’t good for my mental or physical health if this keeps dragging out. I’ve heard of people creating quarantine bubbles with other folks, and this sounds good…in theory. In practice, it’s no different than how super spreaders transmit the virus; it just happens at a smaller scale.


I don’t know what we are gonna do, y’all. I started blogging here again to try and channel these feelings of restlessness and uncertainty into something else.

The world is changing. How will we change with it?

From The Desk of Karsh

“Guess who’s back?”

It’s amazing what two months in self-isolated quarantine during a global public health crisis can do for rekindling that creative spark.

See you soon.