Billeh Nickerson tells it like it is: a wry and at times
outrageous chronicler of contemporary gay life, written for those
who can take it like a man, or at least read about it without
squirming. In these charming and very funny essays, Billeh writes
with disarming sweetness about love, sex, relationships, and
subjects that might even make the women of "Sex in the City "blanch
with embarrassment.
On occasion, Billeh is a Miss Manners for our times: after all,
what would you do if you saw a friend at a nude beach who had
toilet paper stuck to his genitals? Or what to do with friends who
shave their pubes into artistic patterns, or those who insist on
washing their dildos in the dishwasher? Billeh also writes about
what it feels like to be the token gay at a house party; laments
the lack of Speedo-watching at the Summer Olympics now that
bodysuits are the fashion of the day; and describes what it feels
like when the hot guy you've taken home turns out to be a Star Wars
freak. (Nobody's perfect.)
More naked than David Sedaris, more fraudulent than David
Rakoff, Billeh Nickerson's invigorating tonics are just what the
doctor ordered. He's willing to explore new life and new
civilization, and to go where no fag has gone before.
Poet and columnist Billeh Nickerson lives in Vancouver. His
collection of poetry, "The Asthmatic Glassblower," was nominated
for a Publishing Triangle Gay Men's Poetry Prize.
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