People learn different things when they take drugs. Some learn they can be more loving. Others learn they can keep vomiting long after they think they’ve finished.

No matter what you think about drugs, you won’t be very far from them in this day and age, especially when it comes to sex. In less than a generation we’ve gone from Sex, Lies and Videotape to sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll.

OK, sex, drugs ’n’ musical theatre, but still.

Sex and drugs have a lot in common. Both can be bought, sold and taken. Both can make you snort, swallow or spit, and both can make you feel alive, injured or dead.

Booty calls now come with booty bump options. You know, sticking party favors up where only proctologists can reach them. One unexpected bowel movement and, oh dear, you just paid $30 for a sewer rat to take off its shirt and dance in a huddle all night. But I digress.

The party and play (PNP) brigade are marching through urban center bedrooms and they’re taking no prisoners. Well, unless you know the safe word. Sounds like fun except for one teeny-weeny, what’s-in-your-bikini worry: PNP is often TNT for HIV.

There’s a thin line between getting blown and getting blown up; between bottoming and bottoming out. The biggest drawback to mixing drugs with sex is that they make you think “safe sex” is a padded headboard; that a condom is something you put on the market when you’re ready to move.

Gay men, attracted to three-ways as many are, seem to be of three minds about mixing sex with drugs.

First, there’s the “Just Say No” crowd. They say drug him with charm, not pills. They say seduce him with smiles, not powders. Yawn.

Still, they’ve got a point. Some of us don’t need anything to sex up the sex. Drugs just get in the way. Just try having sex with “Crystal dick”. It’s like shooting pool with a rope.

The second group is the “Just Say Know” crowd. They’re the ones who know what they’re taking, how much they’re taking, when to start and how to stop.

The third group is the “Just Say Now” crowd. They’re the ones who’d snort Sweet N Low if it weren’t glue-gunned to the packet. These are the people who know the meaning of “balance” because they swing by it every 10 minutes. They’re the ones who tell cops, “Well, how can I hand you my driver’s license if you won’t hold my bong?”

They’re not very bright but they’re a lot of fun.

Take them home and your bedroom will sound like half-price day at the liposuction center. Unfortunately, you’ll probably have to drop them off at the health clinic on your way to work. You know, the place you’ll have to stop by to get tested.

No matter which group you belong to, the questions are endless: How do you party drug-free in a drug-riddled scene? How do you keep yourself safe?

How do you make wise choices for yourself without judging others? How do you score premium cocaine instead of that glorified talcum powder your friends keep pawning off on you?

But the biggest question reflects the dilemma all good-thinking men find themselves in: Is mind-blowing sex worth a life-shattering night?

I can’t imagine anyone saying, “Yes.” But then, I couldn’t imagine anyone voting for George Bush, either.

So our three basic choices in the “Just Say” categories are: No, Know or Now. There’s no point in judging people (it never works), but there’s great benefit to nudging them (it often does). And we should all be nudging each other to somewhere between No and Know. Meaning, it’s wise to Know what and how much you should take and what the consequences are if you don’t. But it’s wiser if you say No and don’t touch the stuff to start with.

So there you go: Wise and Wiser. But what’s Wisest? I’d say heeding Sister Kitty Catalyst’s warning. As the head of a group promoting drug safety, she once said:

“There’s nothing fabulous about a trip to the emergency room. The lighting is bad, the outfits are horrid and they have no idea what a VIP line is.”