The Horny Editor Visiting the 'Rents

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Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Horny Editor Visiting the 'Rents: 25, Long Island City, male, gay, single.

DAY ONE
10 a.m.: Hit the snooze button four times. Morning wood. Not so much a raging hard-on as a gentle swelling. An ex-boyfriend once told me that he couldn't get off with morning wood. I think that's become a self-fulfilling prophecy for me.
12:10 p.m.: Co-worker and I speculate about Eli Roth's sexuality. He sends me a link to "Eli Roth Has the Biggest Dick in Hollywood." It's his naked thighs that turn me on, not the enormous prosthetic penis.
2 p.m.: Totally uninterested in naked-porn-star photo I receive with a press release for some gay party. I worry that gay porn has totally desensitized me.
3:05 p.m.: This guy e-mails me — he has like two boyfriends; we go out to dinner and make out occasionally; it's way too complicated. I invite him out to Lotus. Not sure why, I don't even like him that much.

4:28 p.m.: Co-worker tells me that masturbation is good as a headache/hangover cure. That doesn't really work for me. Start talking about current sexual ennui. Interrupted by distraught editor.
5:11 p.m.: The guy with two boyfriends e-mails me back, and I get kinda horny thinking about him fucking me. He lives on the same block where I work, so I suggest we have a quickie at his place tomorrow on our lunch breaks. Silence.
7:45 p.m.: There are several cute guys on the L train. But that whole making-eye-contact, will-we-won't-we thing is so tedious.
9:05 p.m.: At home flipping through glossy gay magazine filled with shirtless men and inane sex advice. Consider masturbating, but crappy gay publishing is too depressing.
11:15 p.m.: Meet friends at Lotus. Some guy grabs my ass in the bathroom. I get righteously annoyed.
11:30 p.m.: Watch crappy "boylesque," which basically amounts to Chippendales-style stripping. The guy is epically hot, however.
Midnight: A guy I dated briefly but never slept with shows up at our table. I really want to do it with him. "He has AIDS," my friend says, but he says that about everyone. "No, really." he says, "We saw his ad on Craigslist!"
1:40 a.m.: I'm at that point where I'm too drunk to know who's hot. I should want to make out with someone, but I can't be bothered.

DAY TWO
10 a.m.: Hit snooze button and get kinda horny thinking about that stupid Eli Roth photo. Masturbate thinking about hot, hot stripper from last night.
4: 35 p.m.: In a cab on the way to La Guardia. I have a long weekend, so I'm spending it with the 'rents. There's a cute guy with a bleach-blond mohawk standing on a corner a few blocks from my apartment. Maybe I should explore the neighborhood more.
4:48 p.m.: I text-message this guy who I was too coked-out to fuck properly last weekend to see if I can get a chance to redeem myself. I have a feeling we'd make the perfect couple if either of us could actually bother to have a boyfriend.
5:10 p.m.: Flipping through magazines at the airport. Naked photos of Thom Browne confirm the fact that I am utterly in love with him. My heart flutters just a little bit.
6:30 p.m.: There's a cute guy sitting across from me at the gate. Actually, he's only cute from certain angles. He looks like he'd make a good boyfriend, though.
8:52 p.m.: That guy texts me back to say of course I get a second chance. I make a mental note not to do coke next time.
10:45 p.m.: Flipping channels at my parents' house in N.C. Mom makes some weird joke about the Playboy Channel and then whispers, "I'd rather watch Playgirl, wouldn't you?" Which makes me excessively uncomfortable.
1 a.m.: Trying to find my younger brother's porn. Guess he took it with him when he moved out.

DAY THREE
1:30 p.m.: Watching football and I'm reminded of my lifelong dream to get fucked by Brett Favre.
1:37 p.m.: And Howie Long … or just a football team in general.
3 p.m.: My ex sends a text. At first I'm kinda warmed and swollen with goodwill. Then I start to miss him severely. This is a guy I don't think I'll ever quite get over.
6:30 p.m.: This guy who works with my dad stops by for drinks and dessert. He's kinda sexy. Kinda.
Midnight: There are a couple old issues of Sweet Action hidden in my bedroom. I jerk off and go to bed.

DAY FOUR
11:30 a.m.: My mom is watching these bride shows on TV. In one the groomsmen all get naked for a photo. It's totally hot.
1 p.m.: Bored out of my mind. So I masturbate.
1:25 p.m.: I wonder how long it will take before my parents decide to clean out my old bedroom and find all the porn. Actually, there's really not that much.
2:03 p.m.: My pubes could use some major grooming.
10 p.m.: Jerk off again. Because I'm bored again. If I were in N.Y. I could be going out and trying to make out with boys. I'm starting to regret staying the whole weekend.

DAY FIVE
2:47 p.m.: Antiquing with the parents all morning. It's not sexy at all.
3:30 p.m.: Everyone's outside with the neighbor's new dog. I take the opportunity to jerk off again, standing up in my bathroom, like I did when I was in high school.
6:13 p.m.: Family dinner at my grandparents'. It's kinda disturbing how much my sexual tastes are influenced by my uncle. Some gays have daddy issues, I have uncle issues.

DAY SIX
10:34 p.m.: At the airport, waiting in line. Sometimes I like to take a given group of people and decide which of the guys I would do it with if forced to choose. Two in front of me in line, two behind me in line. That was fun.
1:17 p.m.: Two-and-a-half-hour delay in the Charlotte airport. There are lots of hot guys in this airport, but they're all reading car magazines.
8:35 p.m.: Back in New York. I'm planning on going out tonight, so I jerk off while the roomie is doing laundry. Can't go out with a loaded gun, right?
11:47 p.m.: Out partying with my buddy. There are exceptionally hot go-go boys on the bar and porn projected on the wall. All that holiday loneliness is gone, and I'm so horny my entire pelvis aches.
3:30 a.m.: I thought this guy my friends know was flirting with me, so I'm waiting around to see what happens.
4:40 a.m.: He goes home with this kinda stocky-hot bartender!

DAY SEVEN
11:34 p.m.: Horribly hung-over at work and feeling really fragile. I need a hug.
11:57 p.m.: My boss e-mailed me a photo of some go-go boy's bush. I can't stop looking at it!
2:40 p.m.: Running out of steam at work, so I'm checking out guys on Dlist.com. Always lookin', never buyin'. There aren't that many hot guys online in the middle of the workday.
8:24 p.m.: The roommate's not home and I've still got all this pent-up horniness from last night, so I get on the ol' Xtube and jerk off.

Total: Zero acts of intercourse; six acts of masturbation, of which four are bored-and-at-parents'-house acts of masturbation; five views of porn; two Eli Roth fucking fantasies; two incidences of troubling uncle-induced sexuality issues; one suggestion of mutual Playgirl viewing from mother.