A popular theme with sex advice columnists is the heretofore "vanilla" individual who, having experienced some new twist on their regular sexual adventures, has their panties in a knot over how this will affect their relations with their partner of choice.

It's easy to make light of the idea of confessing some sexual perversion to one's partner in the abstract but it's an entirely different thing to confess that there's nothing you'd like better than to piss in your loved one's mouth, for example. After all, you have no idea how they'll react and many a newly-uncovered a kink has been the end of a previously-perfect relationship.

Me, I always enjoyed these accounts but I figured I knew myself pretty well. After all, I was 27 years-old and had presumably progressed beyond my college days to embrace the well-oiled sexual practices of the post-grad. I was no longer "figuring things out" (or at least I thought not).

I've lived in Toronto for seven years and have moved through a dozen or so social circles in my time here. Things are generally tight and without prodding, most groups tend to avoid long-term co-mingling. People move in and out but a core group tends to remain.

I've also had my share of fun and several relationships but I've noticed a distinct shift in terms of whom I choose to get closer with. Most of my hook-ups are close friends that I've known for awhile. While I've dated some of them briefly, all of them are people I feel comfortable with.

According to the ever-useful NOW Magazine Love and Sex Guide "35 percent of men and 39 percent of woman" identify as single while engaging in sexual relations with a friend.

Allowing for the demographics of those who cared to respond to the survey, that's still a substantial number.

What other awards show hands out glass butt plugs? They're just so... functional.

As Josey Vogels, one of the announcers noted, you wouldn't want to use an Emmy in the same way. An Oscar might work but it would require one helluva warm-up.

All kidding aside, of much greater importance than the sexual possibilities presented to the winners are the films that brought them the attention they deserve.

The Feminist Porn Awards are not about supporting either mainstream pornography. We have the AVNs for that. Unlike most awards shows, they want to recognize porn that isn't content with the same, old conventions of the cultural entity we are all wank off to.

Why be boring when you can actually show female pleasure or people of diverse backgrounds, body-types and fantasies getting it on? Whatever your sexual orientation, I would imagine most people are into the idea of getting off to people they like the look of getting it on because they want to.

We live in a world where people are slowly coming around to the idea that there's no right or wrong way to get off and though the mainstream porn industry is usually one of the first adopters when it comes to technology, they are notoriously reticent when it comes to pushing social boundaries. Try finding a bisexual porno...

Like any major urban centre, Toronto has its landmarks and attractions; things the visitors are encouraged to see. From opera to architecture we're used to seeing these objects of civic pride measured against other cities knickknacks in the never-ending competition for tourist bucks.

Then there are the activities you don't usually hear about, the ones you can't necessarily enjoy with the entire family. Some are praiseworthy (gay couples from the States coming up here to get married), others leave a distinctly bad taste in my mouth (swinger couples visiting Club Wicked; is that the best we can do?) and a few are really weird (Reg Hartt screenings; more about him later).

Somewhere in between the last two is Dimitri the Lover and his Toronto Real Men meetings. If you don't already know, he is the latest iteration in a long line of pick-up artists (PUA) offering up the secrets of seduction to hapless guys all over the country.

I was paid $12 an hour to break up marriages.

Well, at least that's what some of my friends accused me of when I worked as a chat hostess for a local dating service, which I've dubbed, "Homewreckers."

I actually hadn't thought of my days there - all 30 of them - until new commercials for the adulterous web site recently started airing again, usually during Blind Date late at night. A few years ago, I was at my wits end working at HMV, barely making above minimum wage. So I figured any job that paid better was worth checking out.

I saw in the back of NOW an ad looking for chat hostesses. It wasn't under the adult classifieds, so I made a call and was soon given an interview at a midtown office building.

I visit the popular online photo-sharing site Flickr pretty much every day, and I use it in the most conventional way - to post my own photographs, check out those taken by others, and engage in interesting dialogue with fellow Toronto-area photography enthusiasts. Often interaction with members in Toronto groups results in face-to-face time at socials, and sometimes real, close, off-line relationships can be forged. It's social networking at its finest.

With the exception of adding the lovely (NSFW) SuicideGirls to my contacts list, I've never used Flickr as a source of porn, or as a way to hook up with and get laid by local women because I've never felt the need and I'm content with my current resources for pleasures of those sorts.

But a recent, accidental discovery and a little bit of investigative role-playing made me realize that if I were a horny Toronto-area housewife looking for a fresh lay, I could score some home-delivered action, via Flickr, at the click of the mouse. The opportunity is also there (although the competition a little more fierce) for me as a dude to score a willing babe or meet an open couple for some experimental escapades, should that sort of thing tickle my fancy.