Not a particularly clever title, but I find my repartee isn’t at its wittiest when mini-me is getting distracted by every damn guy I pass. Maybe it’s because the weather is getting warmer or maybe it’s because I haven’t gotten laid since 1863, but I am going stir fucking crazy these days! In winter, I was pretty much head down, iPod in, tunnel vision. But now that it’s spring, I am looking around a lot and everywhere I turn there are some hot mens.


College & University: Gotta love that stretch of College from around University all the way along to Bathurst… U of T guys might be arrogant know-it-alls, but the Hart House gym must be full all the time! Love me that collegiate look. Shorts! I have to make special mention of Queen’s Park, not for its legendary outdoor gay sex at night (for reals, look it up) so much as the hunky shirtless guys running around and around that circle.

Parks In General: Speaking of hunky shirtless guys, let’s talk about Trinity Bellwoods, Christie Pits, High Park, Queen’s Park, Winston Churchill (come on ladies, venture out of the west end once in a while) and all of the little half-block "parkettes" we have. As long as none of these beefy, likely homophobic dudes see me ogling them I’ll be in fag heaven. Whatever the reason they have for removing their shirts when exercising I don’t much care, I’m just wondering if the pants are next!

King & Bay: Holy shit. Dudes. In. Suits. Even the ones who dress terribly (and all you who work down there will know there are plenty) are still fucking hot. ‘Nuff said. Try Vertical, Bymark, Ki, Pravda on a Thursday night… If the typical alpha-male bravado doesn’t make you barf, it will definitely make you melt!

Parkdale: I love’ms some hipster dudes. Skinny jeans, flannel shirts in summer? Hot in more ways than one! Basically all the things I had professed to hate in previous articles I am now incredibly attracted to… I might discriminate, but my dick most certainly does not.

Anyway, gals… For all of my horniness, I do not have that mythical "spring fling" or even any potential for the most awesome "summer romance", but with my standards being as they are now, it’s only a matter of time before me and a douche with overgelled hair and flip-flops are calling each other sweetheart. Fingers crossed!