61 Frames Per Second by John Constantine Today in Nerve's videogame blog: Street Fighter. The movie. A new one. With that chick from that Superman show. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about!
The Remote Island by Bryan Christian Mad Men's January Jones struts her stuff in Vanity Fair. Plus: Damages returns, the latest Gossip Girl guest star and Donna Martin capitulates.
To document and extrapolate upon the subject's maiden voyage into homosexual experimentation.
State your hypothesis in the form of a prediction that can be verified by the results of the experiment.
Unlike all great explorers before me — Columbus, Vespucci, Captain Kirk — I'd been commissioned to boldly go where only men had gone before. I suspected I would find a new world of forbidden pleasures that might make me forget about home for a while.
Please list all the materials required for this experiment (including if applicable, how they were obtained).
In this portion of your report, you must describe step-by-step what you did in your lab. It should be specific enough that someone who has not seen the lab can follow the directions and recreate the same lab.
I was worried about getting mocked as a fair-weather queer, but Luis, an old friend of my girlfriend's, knew I was doing it for science and gamely volunteered to lend his lips for the cause. I approached him at the Nerve party where we'd arranged to meet, and when he nodded his approval, I clutched him with one arm, gingerly holding a potent cocktail in my free hand, and like Neil Armstrong, I took one small step . . . er . . . toward mankind. I had just started to notice the softness of his lips when he pushed me away and shouted, "You're spilling that shit all over me!" A telling-off never smarts so much as when it's delivered by an immaculately manicured boy you've just drenched in Bacardi.
He seemed to have forgiven me by the time we arrived at an after-party, and I went for a second try.
Quantify the effects of the experiment.
I'd always thought he was good-looking and smart; he tasted good, like candy, and it wasn't until we stopped necking that I noticed his stubble had ballooned my lips. I'm not so tall, but he's even shorter, and as he sat on my lap in the photo booth, I felt like a ventriloquist. Although we kissed and kissed, the clutch had no direction or destination; that sexual crescendo of energy that happens with my girlfriend simply never arrived.
Summarize your findings. Don't forget to attempt to identify possible variables that could result in different findings for others trying to recreate your test results.
"That was . . . nice," Luis told me before we parted ways, and for a moment I felt guilty, like a double agent who'd duped his best pal. But then again, Luis had described it perfectly: it was nice. Nothing more, nothing less.
I'd hoped it would feel hot, dangerous, maybe slightly uncomfortable — instead, it was sensually pleasant, if sexually empty. Oh well, at least I'll have more chips to cash in future games of "I Never."
