If you haven't noticed by the Juliette Lewis fucking, craven horror story contest, or Miley Cyrus penis cake, today is my "traffic day," meaning I have to get as many pageviews as I possibly can in 24 hours. If I'm figuratively whoring myself out, I might as well show you all how I literally whore myself out. Here is my Grindr profile.
I'd like to say that putting the little ad I use to advertise myself on Grindr, a popular iPhone app that ranks gay men looking to meet other men for encounters of all sorts based on their proximity to the user, is some sort of comment about transparency. Since I would totally swipe a famous gay person's Grindr photo and put it on the internet, I should make my own available.
I'd like to say that this is some sort of comment on Grindr's recent hack. Since the app is completely not secure, since Grindr has yet to update the app and fix the problem like they promised (seriously, guys, what the fuck?), and since there aren't going to be any charges brought against the hacker who broke in, I figured I should beat the profile thieves to the punch and make my profile available before they do. (Grindr also says that, "Contrary to some unfounded speculation, we have no indication that any large number of photos were intercepted." Wonder who they're talking about.)
Yes, I'd like to say that there was some sort of noble goal by posting this. There is not. The traffic from posting my profile on Gawker is much like the sex one has from meeting someone on Grindr: quick, easy, fun, gratifying, and something I'll probably regret the next day. But hey, welcome to the internet age. "Good authors too who once knew better words, now only use four letter words writing prose. Anything Goes."
And this might get me laid. So there's that.