It’s really gotten to be one of the most vicious, Catch-22 romantic situations in Hollywood: poor Toothy Tile’s love life. Last we heard, Tinseltown’s most notoriously closeted actor last gave his fake-beard ways another whirl—and not in the classiest of ways, either.
Hmmm. Wonder if that chick-patrolling Toothy was up to could be a habit he picked up…
While cruising for guys in West Hollywood? In dark, public places? We think this just might be an affirmative assumption on our part!
Only because not only do old habits die hard (Toothy loves doing it anyplace except a bed, remember?), but it’s clear Tooth’s recently amped-up, PR chick-dating has made him hungrier than usual for his natural inclination: dudes.
Near the Sunset Strip, Tooth was recently standing not that far from a popular gay club. He was by himself, in the alley in between two darkly lit buildings. A super-cute guy a little younger than Mr. Tile walked by. The young brown-haired guy knew the drill: If he was interested, turn back around. Which he did.
Very nervously, he went up to Toothy, knowing exactly who he was. Toothy replied, “Hey.”
“Hey,” responded cute boy, barely audible. The wholesome-looking dude added, “How’s…it going?”
“Great,” said Toothy, who moved further back into the blackness of the alley, somewhere near the—gasp!—trash bins. He placed one hand on his growing crotch, which was not insignificant at this point.
Toothy’s man-choice for the night reluctantly took one step toward Toothy, and then he stepped back. It wasn’t so much that he had a boyfriend at home he was thinking about, but it was more so the faint smell of eau de refuse that was making him hesitate. He just couldn’t go through with it.
He bolted, practically hitting himself the whole way home.
And yes, this really did happen. All 18 tales of our Toothy archives have indeed gone down. As it were.
And It Ain’t: Matt Lanter, Ralph Fiennes, Joseph Fiennes