First they came for your money, next they came for your smut.
Ah, it comes around so quickly: the time of year when long-suffering spouses glare at each other over a candlelit dinner and singletons cry into their buckets of Pinot Grigio.
It’s been a pretty lousy year for the gays of the world:
We were inundated from emails after our first article with people wanting to share their stories of male escorting.
Whoever said romance is dead clearly never got any right swipes on Tinder.