OK, sugar-muffins, the only reason this one's in the Vice section is because until quite recently, Toothy Tile was dating his superpopular, superannoyingly perfect girlfriend. Not boyfriend. Which, if you ask this old gossip whore, is the classification Tile would prefer his significant others be filed under in the very near future.
Mere days ago, while everyone was hooting and complaining about this gown and that host from the Oscars, Tile was right out in the open holding hands with his man in a West Hollywood restaurant—which shall remain nameless...because I love going there and they probably won't serve me anymore if I start outing their customers, ca-friggin'-peesh?
Not that I'd be outting anybody, anyway. Mr. Tile took care of that himself. Covertly, but he did it.
It was late in the afternoon; everybody had cleared out. Save Tile and his man-amigo, who extended his hands flat on the marble table (yes, that's a hint) until they were intertwined with Tile's. Massive smiles then appeared on both daring dudes.
Too sweet! And such a departure for this debauched department, doncha think? Don't worry, as sure as Tile's famous ex knew, deep down, way below her doable dimples, what Tile really wanted (hence, the breakup), next week, we'll be right back on salacious patrol, damn sure.