OK, was going to do the Blind Vice story on the Academy Award-friendly actress who thinks her cats can read, which is why she has their names written on their separate litter boxes, but that tale simply pales in comparison to Toothy Tile, who’s back and gayer than, like, ever! Dude’s losin’ his recent, overly prissy, shy shit and gettin’ his non-Nellie nerve back on (much to everyone’s surprise, just not mine).
See, ol’ Tooth, our fave partner in sex-in-public crime is being just as brazen, only with words, not his crotch. The pretty boy (man, on occasion) is gleefully telling more than a few gossipy girls—which means boys, natch, in highly exaggerated fagola speak, but then, I’m sure you already knew that, hon-cakes—that he’s quite aware the hunt for his identity is on. And has been for sometime. Says he enjoys it, even. Who wouldn’t, really? Especially if you’re dead certain your identity will never be revealed. Yep, that’s right.
T2 says he’s havin’ such a fab gay ol’ experience of it all because he’s “sure,” as it’s been relayed to this columnist, that the true identity of Mr. Tile will never, ever be discussed by yours truly. Oh, really? Is that so?
Just don’t count on it, bud. What with the myriad lies to the public (I mean, really, you’re as bad about your true sexual persuasion as Cathy Douglas is with her age), you're on thin vice, babe, so watch it.