"I was all set to do a really kick-ass column this week on cuckolding‚Äîwherein a straight man watches, or is told about, another man having sex with his wife or girlfriend‚Äîwhen one of my coworkers walked in with a pan of pumpkin pot cake. She told us that the cake was a complete failure as a drug; she had eaten two pieces the night before and didn’t get high at all. It was, however, pretty tasty cake, so she brought it in to work to share with everybody.
Well, it seems that my coworker’s tolerance for THC is lots higher than mine. I had one little sliver of cake‚Äîmaybe two‚Äîand now I’m so fucking baked I can hardly see my laptop. I shouldn’t be writing a column in this condition‚Äîgoodness, what if someone were to actually take my advice?‚Äîbut deadlines are deadlines and no editor will accept performance de-hancing drugs as an excuse for missing one. So I set aside the contentious cuckolding issue until next week and scrounged up a few questions that, even stoned, I can’t screw up. Or can I?" – Dan Savage, in this week’s "Savage Love."
The Dish 