[14] Conversations with the brother.

Brother: [apropos of nothing] I’m itchy. DK: … any particular reason? Brother: Because — there’s no delicate way to phrase this, but I uh, tended my man-garden. DK: You manscaped? Brother: That’s the one! DK: [starting to grin] You pruned the roses of your masculinity? Brother: And how. Poor guy had razor burn for three [...]

[7] Little moments.

Two guy friends accidentally snuggling on a heap of sofa cushions. It’s 3 a.m. and they’ve fallen asleep halfway through The Social Network. One is slim and graceful and funny, with guitar-calloused fingers and floppy boyband hair; the other is stocky and muscled and bearded, like a lumberjack teddy bear, the sweetest guy we know. [...]

[3] Amatuer nouns.

Pronouns are a bastard. I’m putting it out there. They’re tricky little fuckers, and I like to think of myself as being reasonably enlightened. I have a loose and adaptable definition of gendery goodness that covers a pretty broad sweep of identities*, but one awkward pronoun is all it takes and wham, I’m flat on [...]