Thwarted by my own hormones and blood vessels.

There's a guy who has had reason to come into my department at work about four or five times in the last couple of months. Other than setting my gaydar off every time he came in, he didn't make much of an impression on me. About my age, average looks... I treated him with the same professional amiability that I treat everyone.

Then a couple of days ago he dropped by the office to give me some paperwork, and instead of a suit he was wearing casual clothes. The top three buttons of his light cotton shirt were undone, and as he handed me the documents I got a momentary glimpse of the curve of his pecs, the light dusting of hair on his chest... and it was if someone had flicked the sexual attraction switch in my brain and set off an alarm.

I was trying to answer his question on some point of bureaucracy but all I could hear was CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! I struggled to look him in the eye, much less give a smooth and professional answer to his question.

The next day he dropped by to give me another piece of paper I needed, and it was terrible. As soon as he walked into my office I felt myself starting to blush. I'm pretty sure that my ears were turning so red that they could have been used as traffic lights. As a result it was all I could do to say the right words like "good morning" and "thank you", rather than turning on the old GTR charm and delicately probing to see if my gaydar was reading true. Maybe it's my imagination, but he seemed quite happy to get out of there, no doubt wondering why this GTR guy was blushing furiously while discussing quarterly reviews.

If this were television he'd come back later, even after I'd made a fool of myself, and quietly ask me if I wanted to go out and get a drink sometime.

But unfortunately this isn't television. This is life, and it's a bitch.

Suddenly I'm feelin' it.

Number of days since I went on a date: 346

Number of days since I kissed a guy: 346

Number of days since I had sex: 392

All of these things were so long ago that I don't actually remember the exact times. It's a good thing I wrote them down in my blog.

You what would be an even better thing? If the numbers were a lot smaller.

Batman reveals his true colours

Not so much The Dark Knight as The Pink Queen.

Robin's trying to spin it as "red", but who am I going to believe; him or my own eyes? He's not fooling anyone.

One can only assume that Batman is heading out to save the Gotham Pride Parade from arch-nemesis Heteroman and his evil gang of Breeders.

Yes, I am trying to reassure myself.

Normally when I see a picture of a hot guy on the internet my attraction is tempered with a keen sense of the ridiculous. "Why is that man only wearing the top half of a football uniform?" I find myself wondering, for example. "Did he get distracted halfway through changing? Did the team run out of pants? What gives?"

But occasionally a guy is so stunning that even I'm lost for snark.

He's abundantly blessed in all three aspects of gay attraction. One, he has an absolutely beautiful face. Two, he has a spectacular body. And three, he has a strikingly massive... er... silhouette.

What must it be like, to look this perfect? What must it be like to effortlessly attract the sorts of lovers that normal people like you and me could only dream about?

I imagine that there are downsides. For a start, there'd be absolutely no drive to improve your personality. Adoration would simply flock after you. You'd never need to think, "I should be less judgemental" or "I'm going to try to be more generous", because people would yearn to be with you no matter what you did. Then when your looks finally abandoned you, what would you have left?

It must be terribly corrosive to the soul to be so hot.

I may be pathetic, but at least I have good taste.

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"He's trying to style my hair!"

Gays + Zombies = Gay Zombie

A question we've all asked ourselves

I've always had a thing for this photo, but not for the obvious reason. I just love the expression on this guy's face. I'm pretty sure he's thinking, "Wait... did I leave the iron on?"

Okay, so that's not the only reason why I like this photo...