What's a man to do, I ask you, when his own mother is more accepting of his lycanthropy than his homosexuality? I'll tell you what I do: absolutely nothing. (I'm really a laid-back kind of guy, despite that werewolf thing.) Maximillian Jean-Baptiste Montague, at your service. But please, call me Max. I write a syndicated column To The Max offering advice to the romantically challenged, and I think I'm doing pretty well for myself. Yet I can't seem to find the backbone to stop my mother from setting me up on blind dates of the female variety. Go figure. I do my best to get along, not cause any trouble, and keep my life on an even keel. But right now somebody's rocking my dream boat, and I don't like it. Not one little bit. My longtime live-in lover Richard is coming and going without explanation. Amy Rose, a wannabe lover from my past, is back in town, and she's brought her nephew, Morgan, who is making a play for my Richard why does no one see that but me? And on top of all that, my mother is dating a homophobic minister, and she wants to "cure" me. Can life get any worse?