Sex is never the real danger and neither are apps. Shame and ignorance are. Apps present an opportunity to change the way we have sex, and as soon as we learn to harness their incredible power, we'll all be a lot safer.
If your GrindR profile appears on most of those other sites, you can bet your headless pic they're making fun of you. If you appear on our site, you can bet your shirtless shot that we've paid you a compliment.
The metaphor of gambling is frequently used to describe love and sex, and Grindr can have the feel of a slot machine -- the signature ding-ding-dings of Vegas replaced by the buh-da-dump notification alert for cached messages.
I recently deleted my Grindr and Adam4Adam profiles. Ever since sobering up, I've had little to no sex drive, but my lack of sex drive is really a blessing in disguise. I'm no longer wasting hours (and I mean hours) of my life seeking the next big fling.
I spend a lot of time on Grindr, not for recreational uses but for more scholarly pursuits. Through my research online in many gay digital spaces, I have noticed trends in the ways that gay men are presenting themselves online and how their online identities are operating.
Hunky goodness is (really) great and all, but the problem for me became the heartbreak. "NSA" means "No Strings Attached," and not the Mila Portman/Ashton Timberlake film but the reality that this encounter will never happen again.
It goes without saying that this was one of the most awkward experiences in my already-pretty-awkward life, but I knew right away that I was happy I did it. Mainly, I had achieved one of my main goals with the experience, which was to get a sense of my own sexual boundaries.