Don't Touch The Pink Stuff

Where I remember that I do in fact have 2 blogs

2008-10-15T15:51:00.000-07:00

Miss me?

Yeah well it's been a crappy summer as far as boys and sex goes. It's amazing how fast your sex drive takes a nosedive when crisis like poverty and homelessness step in.

That said, I think I'm on the upswing, sort of.

A few weeks ago I went on a date with a perfectly charming latin guy. Educated, speaks 3 or 4 languages, wasn't mortified when i insulted the Swiss (his grandparents are Swiss. Everything was going well until the GNK (good night kiss).

We were walking back to his car when he grabbed me by the back of my jeans (nearly giving me a wedgie), spun me around and laid one on me. He's a good kisser, but i'm a top. That he-man crap doesn't cut it with me.

So now to a problem of the opposite variety.

New Dude (who shall remain nick nameless for the time being) and I have been hanging out a lot lately. Like I see him nearly every day and then we do social stuff once or twice a week.

I think he likes me. He's said a few things, done a few things to make me think that he likes me. But dude has just not done anything overt enough for me to grab him and plant a big lip smackery kiss on him to find out. I've pulled out all my peacock moves (I'm wearing a low cut pink sweater and leaning seductively over my desk as I type this)to no avail.

I think I am just going to have to get all 15 year old girl on him and ask "Do you like me or do you like LIKE me?"

It makes me feel a little weird

2008-06-04T14:51:00.000-07:00

looking at the sitemeter stats and seeing people (boys) that I no longer talk to still reading my blog(s).

I have plenty of regular lurkers. That doesn't make me feel weird.

I have lots of real life friends who read my blogs and don't comment, but will talk to me in real life about stuff later.

But for some reason, the boy part weirds me out. It's like they still get to have a piece of me, only now it's non-reciprocal. It makes me feel a little dirty actually.

Girl Talk

2008-05-21T20:18:00.000-07:00

me: awake? asleep? battling zombies?
Soopermouse: mana wyrms
me: I'm forwarding you the bulgarian's email. I need a good girl bitchfest
Soopermouse: what happened
me: read the email- backwards to forwards
Soopermouse: "it's not you it's me"
me: I know
Soopermouse: "i don't want you to fall in lve with me"
me: and I have learned that it really is them. Not me
Soopermouse: "you're good to fuck but not to bring home to mummy"
me: exactly
Soopermouse: that is what happened
me: either that or he really is hiding a dull wife back in the old country
Soopermouse: basically he thinks you're trying to turn a fuck into a relationship
me: it's a good fuck, but I only get serious for citizenship
Soopermouse: :P
me: you know I lurvessssss you
Soopermouse: i do
its my gypsy magic
me: it is it really is
Soopermouse: i know :)
me: stupid boy
he's losing a perfectly good fuck by being a coward
good thing I have a much younger student waiting in the wings
Soopermouse: did you yell the L thing while orgasming?
me: nope
once I wrote about it- I know longer felt the need
just had to let the anxiety go
Soopermouse: it doesn't matter
me: I will miss his cock, but I don't do annoying boys
Soopermouse: darling, you can get a new dildo, and it wont be as dumb
me: true
Soopermouse: thickheaded Bulgarians and thin nosed Greeks :)
me: at least you can get some good use out of a thin nose- if they nuzzle it in the right places
Soopermouse: :)
me: You know I'm posting this on the sex blog
Soopermouse: big hairy deal

The Problem With Being A Grown Up

2008-05-20T20:13:00.000-07:00

I believe that we choose to fall in love. Sure, once we make that choice, we may act like idiots who cannot control themselves. But there is always a moment where we decide if we are going to take the risk and fall.

The problem with being a grown up is that I am smart enough now to choose not to fall. It means that there are fewer whirlwind romances and cases of being swept off my feet. And sometimes a good hard fall is fun, at least till you land.

Now that I am a grown up, the "little" irritating things that would send me into a tailspin of self-doubt (but why won't he call, what did he mean by that comment, etc, etc) now just annoy. And tip the scales in favor of the not falling category. I don't see them as proof of some horrible internal flaw of mine, but rather as proof of horrible manners (at best) or a serious lack of respect (at worst). And quite honestly, I don't have time for bad manners or disrespect.

But maybe I am being to harsh.

A friend and I were chatting yesterday about my current irritant.

Friend: Maybe he's just scared.

Me: I don't have any patience for emotional cowards.

Friend: Most people are emotional cowards.

Me: I'm not, I think that explains why I'm single.

Friend: You're single cause you want to be.

ME: Only partly true. I like having a regular person, I just like them to go home when I'm done with them.

Whatever. I still don't have time or energy for bad manners or disrespect. There are just so many fish in the sea.

Because I promised

2008-05-14T15:38:00.000-07:00

The cute Bulgarian is hung like a pony, a very large pony. I swear to god after every time I see him I am sore for days, but in a good way. It's hours and hours of porn star sex.

So darling boy- next time you need a jail break, you know where to hide out.

Kisses.

A Not Exactly Shameless Confession

2008-05-12T21:03:00.000-07:00

On more than one occasion, in the middle of very hot, very awesome sex, I have belted out three little words that do not normally come easily out of my mouth.

You probably know the three little words I mean, starts with I, ends with You, and the middle is that damn L word that gets so many people in trouble.

Whether I actually mean those words is beside the point, a girl would like to control when she first says those things to someone.

So I've been spending some time with a certain someone who has phenomenal sexual prowess. Sex with him is the kind of transcendent experience that Foucault talks about in the History Of Sex. It makes my brain go whoosh and my knees weak and I feel like giddy jello for days afterwards.

So naturally I am a bit scared that those three little words are going to come out of my mouth mid orgasm. I've been worried enough that I am having dreams about accidentally saying those three little words.

So the other day, after an early morning round of mind blowing orgasms, I fell asleep on the mind blower's chest and had dreams that I was saying things I shouldn't have been saying. What's worse is that sometimes I talk in my sleep (damn- must my subconscious keep trying to assert dominance despite my wishes?)

So when I woke up, a bit panicked, I asked if I had been talking in my sleep by any chance.

"No, why are you trying to hide something?"

Uhm, not exactly. I'm just trying to keep my subconscious in line, thank you very much.

Prize fighting

2008-05-02T09:26:00.000-07:00

Two years ago, out of nowhere, I ran into my high school boyfriend. He was still hot, and we spent the weekend together. But it was obvious that we were not meant to be in the here and now.

During the course of the weekend we rehashed some old stuff, particularly our very bad break up. HE wanted to know why I didn't fight for him and my response was "Oh baby, I'm the prize, not the prize fighter."

So now I'm feeling a wee bit of a culture clash with the Bulgarian. I don't call. I never call. I don't chase. I grew up here, where women are taught not to chase. Only crazy Fatal Attraction types chase. I also don't wait by the phone.

And in the Balkans it's the women that chase. So the Bulgarian doesn't call.

Fine, I can deal with a bit of being the chaser, but at a certain point (like now) I get tired of being the one to make the first move. And so I won't. As much as I may like a guy, I don't play stupid games.

Cause someone likes to read about himself

2008-04-24T00:01:00.000-07:00

You know who you are. ;)

So I have had this horrible problem for the longest time. There are boys who I am totally in sync with mentally and emotionally. I can talk to them about anything and it's awesome. But the sex, the sex generally sucks bad (usually for the same reasons, too small, too fast, too selfish)

Then there are guys who can fuck like a battery operated toy. But I wouldn't want to hang out with them for more than a few minutes (for the same reasons: too dumb, too dull, too blah)

And then there is the Bulgarian. Sweet, smart, funny, kind and hot. I was absolutely sure he had to suck in bed, cause that is how it always goes.

But he's hung like a pony, a very large pony. He can fuck for day and days and days. And he's totally all about me getting off, a lot, in many different ways.

So I am crushing very hard on the Bulgarian at the moment. Actually, I wish he was here right now, naked in my bed. Why aren't you here?

Cookie Porn!

2008-03-22T01:37:00.001-07:00

My darling friends gave me wonderful birthday party, and an even better birthday gift: cookies.

But not just any cookies, dirty dirty cookies.

Yep, those are peens and boobies. But the real fun started when we posed the cookies in naughty ways. Below is gay bukkake cookies

And my personal fave, the 2 boys and a girl menage cookies.

Can I just say, the frosted cocks were delicious.

Uhm thanks, but I crossed you off the possibles list moths ago...

2008-03-17T00:18:00.000-07:00

So there's this guy, we'll call him bottom boy. He's cute, Australian. We talked for a while a long time ago, but all he ever talked about was sex. He happens to have a particular kink that I am rather fond of, being that he is a boy who likes to be bossed around, humiliated and hurt by women. I can do that, I even like doing that sometimes ( I have discovered that certain type A personalities are much more tolerable if you get to beat the crap out of them occasionally, with their full enthusiastic consent of course).

But I don't have any intention of living a kinky "lifestyle". I love sex, but it is not all I love. I also love art and music and food and politics and culture and travel and languages and food and fashion and history- you get the idea. But mostly what I value in a guy is his ability to be interesting. I'm bored easily, interesting is an important quality.

I am also fairly open, otherwise you all wouldn't be reading about my stable boys on this blog. Openness about sex often gets confused for being obsessed by it. I am a connoisseur of sex the way an oenophile is about wine. It has become enough of a problem, my openness, that I am finding myself being much more reserved with boys I think I might want to date. I even had one guy tell me he thought I was a bit naive about sex, till I told him I just decided not to tell him about my threesomes and orgies because I wanted to talk about something else.

So back to bottom boy. After several rounds of emails and a phone call, I decided to pass on him. Subby boys are way more demanding than you might think, and this one in particular could not wrap his head around anything other than the idea of me abusing him. I was bored, and the worst thing I can be is bored. Bored with a guy makes me mean to him, and not in the fun way. For a guy who I had yet to meet, this is a bad sign.

So I was surprised tonight to see that he had sent me a little smiley. I think that I shall just send him a link here instead of sending any real reply. Subby boys like to be molded and scolded after all, maybe this will teach him not to be such a tedious bore.

Phone conversation with Hot Pharmacist

2008-03-07T19:01:00.000-08:00

He is seriously beautiful, and nice, and unlike all the other pharmacists there he never fucks up my prescriptions. Calling for refills makes my panties wet.

Me: So I have a bunch of refills for you

HP: Ok do you have the prescription numbers.

Me: No, but I have the names. I need the nueva ring, the wellburtin, the migrin or midril- I can't remember the name but it's for migraines.

HP: That's not a bunch

Me: Would you like to take them for me? It feels like a bunch.

HP: Sure, I take drugs all the time.

Me: I'm sure you'll have lots of fun with my birth control then

HP: Hahahahahahahahahaha

After that we chatted for a bit about travel (I asked him to give me small bottles instead of big ones so they are easier to carry). I want him. Badly. But he knows my medical history. Is that weird?

I love IMDB

2008-02-19T14:50:00.001-08:00

So to cheer myself up and just for fun, I went and did a key word search on IMDB for the word "feminist" in their biographies.

Not surprisingly, there are a shitload of anti-feminist quotes from a lot of men. There are a ton of stupid quotes from women including Sarah Michelle Geller "It makes me think of women who don't shave their legs." - on what the word "feminist" means. (Sorry B)

But there are also some really cool things I found out, like Saffron Burrows (who I have always thought was the most gorgeous, classy woman ever) is gay and dating the woman who plays Mrs. Dursley in the Harry Potter movies. I am more shocked by the Mrs. Dursley part than the gay part because I cannot picture Mrs. Dursley as anything but awful. I guess that is a testament to her acting skills.

Also, the number of actresses whose parents were feminists and/or socialist activists is astonishing, including Burrows and Nicole Kidman.

Best. Ad. Ever.

2008-02-18T17:02:00.000-08:00

Because someone is a big whiny whiner- Girl Crush

2008-02-14T13:26:00.000-08:00

We all have them, gay, straight, bi 0r.. Little crushes on girls we admire. Whether it is a desire to be with or be like the girls we crush on is of little matter. So fess up. I'll show you mine if you show me yours.

1) Lara Logan- CBS' foreign correspondent. She's gorgeous even in war zones. She's fearless and she is what has been missing from journalism for a long time. She grew up in South Africa under apartheid and her first job as a journalist was in high school where she went into the segregated black townships. While grown white people were afraid of the big scary black people, a teenage girl just walked in and reported what she saw.
2)Kate Winslet. She's gorgeous and goofy and bitchez loudly when airbrushed into Hollywood proportions. I have loved her since Heavenly Creatures a million years ago, but I'll never forget the scene in Holy Smoke where she pees.

3) Rachel Weisz: Her Tessa Quayle portrayal in The Constant Gardner made me cry through half the movie. She was a radical feminist in college. She has the raised eyebrow of doom .I have many many more girls that I crush on, but that's a good start.

Happy Valentines Day!

2008-02-14T08:25:00.000-08:00

To all my single comrades, to all the mushy couples, to all the cranky cynics.

I am neither a hater of nor an obsessor over Valentines day. The thought of being single on this mushiest of days does not make me feel bad or sad or lonely. I do not want a pile of flowers or chocolates or a sappy romantic card (I don't want the sappy cards ever, not just on Valentines day).
I do not feel like a part of me is missing because I do not have that one special guy. I am a whole person all by myself. I don't expect there to be one special guy for me, I get bored too easily. I do not see my fickleness as a moral failure, as long as I am honest with people that I date.

I like having my big bed to myself most nights. I like that my house is all mine and that I don't have to share it with anyone but the Kid. I like that boys are a pleasant diversion and not a requirement. I like that when I want to curl up in bed and spend an entire weekend watching Battlestar Galactica, I don't have to okay it with someone else.

I like the early parts of relationships. I like getting to know someone new. It's like having a puzzle to figure out. I like the electric zap of chemistry. I like the adventure. I do not like the tedium in long term relationships. There is enough tedium in everyday life without having it spill over into your sex life.

I know all these things about myself, but once every five years or so the pressure from society to couple up long term gets to be too much. Last year, on Valentines day, I ended a relationship that I had started purely because I thought it was time for me to settle down. I realized about 6 months in that "settle" is the exact term for it. I was not meant to be someone's devoted wife. Unless I get to be Anais Nin and have two husbands and many lovers all at the same time, I will probably never marry. And that is fine. Good even. Not all of us were meant to live in twos.

So this Valentines day I wish for all of us to know ourselves as well as we can. If you are coupley, be coupley. If you are not, be glad you know it. But don't let what you "should" want get in the way of knowing what you really want.

Life Lesson #3462

2008-02-11T14:01:00.000-08:00

Save the pics of boys you have previously fucked with their emails. That way when they email you out of the blue a year later, you know who the fuck it is.

This has happened twice in the last two weeks. The first time I was able to dig through old emails and figure it out (Oh yeah, you're THAT Rick, the one who only wanted to talk about his ginormous penis).

This time, no such luck. I know he was one of a string of hot Indian boys I dated. Was he the guy I made out with in front of Victrola? Was he the one whose aunt came to live with him because his mom couldn't leave India and he needed someone to take care of him (I SHIT YOU NOT). Was he that bland other one that I might have fucked on the couch - the murder couch before it was murdered?

Also, why at the same time? Did a naked picture of me make it onto a porn site and now these boys are reminded that I'm awesome? ( A very real possibility and why I'll never run for political office). These are all boys from an exceptionally slutty period about 3 years ago. (I didn't write a blog then so I had much more time for drunken one-night stands ;)

Where the boys aren't

2008-02-11T12:49:00.000-08:00

I am in a bit of an angry snit at the mo and will pretty much stab the eyes out of the next boy who says something even remotely sexist to me. So I am not even checking my other blog until I calm the fuck down.

And then I remembered that I have a place to write where boys fear to tread- HERE!

So you peeps might have a few more postings than normal this week.

For Bianca- cause i am a giant slacker

2008-02-06T15:43:00.000-08:00

Things have been a wee bit tough around the royal compound lately. And when things get tough I tend to grab my trusty B.O.B. instead of the nearest hot boy. So I haven't had a lot of fodder for the pink blog and my happy co-blogger CJ went and got herself a steady boyfriend and an admonishment from work to "not post to personal blogs from work computers".

But I'm on the mend now and it's time to talk boys, or how when it rains it fucking pours.

Last summer, I asked hot hot Horst if he wanted to meet me in Paris next month. He said he'd try to arrange it. Up until December things seemed fine. Then he just disappeared for a while. In the mean time I asked Hot Doctor if he wanted to go with me. He was trying to get time off work. While he was waiting for the ok, Carlos, a Mexican artist/writer living in Paris started emailing me. Hot doctor got the OK and now I am trying to figure out if I can pull off seeing Carlos in Paris with Hot Doctor there.

But that is not the end of the story kids.

So Horst finally emails me back this week. Tickets are bought and hotels are already reserved for Hot Doctor and I, but Horst wants to know my travel plans so we can meet up.

Shit Shit Shit.

I want to be insanely selfish and see all three of them (and if I had all three of them at the same time, more the better).

Hot Doctor and I are just fuck buddies. We both sleep with other people and don't care. What do you dear readers think? Can I pull off a boy trifecta week in Paris or am I just pushing my luck?

Dreams

2008-01-15T13:41:00.000-08:00

There is a wee bit of drama going on the the Queens Castle at the mo. Sorry for not posting but tawdry sex is the last thing on my mind right now.

Except....

Last night I had the most fucked up sex dream ever.

In my dream I was hanging out with Prince Charles (not William or Henry- though I wouldn't mind teaching either of them a few tricks) in some very old English lady type room, complete with large chintz covered sofa and a cozy fire.

I'm not going to get into the specifics of my Prince Charles sex dream, but let's just say that he has some skills and leave it at that. I woke up more than a little bit squicked out that it was Charles (eewww) and shocked that I enjoyed it so much.

More fun with online dating

2008-01-09T02:16:00.000-08:00

I get this email

my name is justin and im interested to know more about you and wondering if your interested and go from there please give me the respect and respond to me letting me know if your interested or not

My response is:

How about respect is earned and not demanded. Anyone who demands that I respect him when I don't even know him is not someone I am ever going to fuck.

(Besides, the severe lack of punctuation, with and intelligence shown in his email and profile are also reasons I would never fuck him)

The great thing about online dating is that rejection is quick and pretty painless, for both sides. Generally I just don't respond. But for assholes, I figure I am doing a public service by telling them off.

Boxers or briefs? How about granny or floss?

2008-01-08T11:18:00.000-08:00

Via Jezebel comes a link to a great essay about the awesomeness that is granny panties. Throw away your thongs and cover your bits!

Personally, I hate thongs. I own exactly 2 of them and both have only been worn once (right after they were given to me). My bits are tender and sensitive, I do not need something rubbing them the wrong way all fucking day.

So I am a hipster/ bikini girl. Most days it's either black cotton or pink cotton (pink works just as well under light clothes as white does). When I want to tart it up I wear french knickers or lace cheekies. I avoid the old fashioned granny panty style cause the difference between my hips and waist is so much that I end up with baggy middle bulge in undies that come up that high. The downside of lower cut undies is that I have (on more than one occasion) actually had my undies fall of while I was wearing a skirt.

So now you want to hear a story, I'm sure? I'll tell you about the fist time I lost my knickers in public. It was just after I had the Kid. I had some friends come in from out of town and I took them on the happy tourist Pike Place Market tour that we do for all out of towners. I was wearing a long black sundress that unbuttoned for easy booby/nursing action and had worn the only clean undies I had- a pair that fit me in the last weeks of pregnancy, but not so much after I dropped 30 pounds of baby weight.

So we're walking along the sidewalk in busy downtown Seattle, la di da. I have the kid in the snuggly and my purse, diaper bag thing in one hand and water in the other. I feel the undies start to head south. I have no free hand with which to pull them up and we're in public, so I make for the nearest bathroom to do a clandestine panty pull.

The undies are faster than me though. Very quickly they are at my knees and the only thing keeping them there is my taking giganto steps. I give up the fight and let the undies fall where they may. Then I walk right over them LIKE NOTHING EVER HAPPENED.

I also seem to be THAT girl that is always accidentally getting her skirt blown up. I have flashed the security guys at the Denver airport on at least 4 occasions, a huge group of tourists at an archaeological site outside of Rome. and most of Seattle. For that reason, cute undies that cover my ass are a must.

Quick Poll

2008-01-07T08:04:00.000-08:00

If you're in a relationship, maybe you have the "special pass" list of people you could have an affair with on the wildly outrageous chance that the opportunity came up. If you're not in a relationship (like me) maybe you just have a crush list. Share!

From my movies that make me squirmy post, you peeps prolly know that Clive Owen and Javier Bardem top my list. And you're not really a feminist unless you have a crush on Stephen Colbert. I just happen to think a Colbert/John Stewart threesome would be the ultimate sex act.

And then there's Sendhil Ramamurthy, hot Heroes doctor.

And just to get all brainy on you all, George Monbiot.

And arty, Preston Singletary

And music, Colin Meloy

Riddle Me This Readers

2008-01-07T08:00:00.000-08:00

Everynight I take a shower and in the shower I coat my super dry skin with straight up coconut oil.

When I get out of the shower, I cover myself in Eucerin lotion for extra dry skin.

About an hour later, I use pure coco butter (not a lotion, not a cream, just straight chocolately goodness coco butter).

And every morning I wake up with the same itchy dry winter skin.

Short of spending November to March naked in a vat of olive oil, what the hell is a girl to do about really dry skin?

Did I ever tell you peeps the story

2008-01-06T11:20:00.000-08:00

About how I broke my girl bits and had to get a new couch? No? Well, it's bloody- so don't read this if you're squeamish.

One of the former stable boys was called Ad Boy. You know those horrible Catherine Zeta Jones commercials for T-Mobile? Well Ad Boy was responsible for a few of them. Ad Boy was a lovely, brooding, dark haired misanthrope with a large cock and some fab skills.

I like couch sex. I like the leverage I can get holding on to the back of the couch when I'm on top. I used to have this awesome 70s gold velvet sectional that was huge and perfect for sex. I loved that couch, though it is now referred to as the murder couch because when we were done with it, it looked like a crime scene.

So I was happily on top of Ad Boy and just about to have my own happy ending, when his cock slipped. Condoms are not actually the most viscous material and the way he slipped out cause me considerable pain. But I thought it was just momentary. We stopped for a minute so we could reposition. Then Ad Boy said "Damn, you're really wet".

Not wet, bloody. When he slipped out, it torn my girl bits. And girl bits (just like boy bits) get engorged with blood when you're excited. Ad Boy's lap and my couch were covered in blood. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom, leaving a trail of blood behind me. In the bathroom I sat on the toilet. For at least 10 minutes I sat there. It sounded like I was taking the world's longest piss, but it was all blood.

Ad Boy was sweet. He kept trying to get me to go to the hospital. I was a little afraid I was going into shock, but there was NO WAY IN HELL that I was going to the emergency room at 3 am on a weekend for this. I could just see myself telling the triage nurse that "I broke my vagina on a large penis and lost enough blood to make the Red Cross jealous". While I sat there and bled, Ad Boy cleaned up the blood trail as best as he could. There was blood in the living room, in the kitchen and even a bloody hand print on the wall from where I flicked on the light switch with my blood covered hand. If you learn nothing from this story, learn that girl bits bleed copiously.

Eventually I stopped bleeding. We flipped the cushions on the couch and went to bed (with me on several layers of towels so that I didn't ruin my very expensive pink sheets). After he left the next morning, I called my friend Science Girl and she came over to take a look. I was worried that I might have given myself an at home circumcision and Science Girl has seen enough pussy to be able to tell me.

There was a large clot that made it difficult to see what had actually torn, so I made an appointment with Hot Doctor (I have the coolest doctor on the planet and I have a giant girl crush on her). Hot Doctor said my fun parts were fine, barred me from sex for 2 weeks and then we discussed various brands of lube. I now keep a tube of silicon lube with the condoms, and even if I am wet and ready, big boys get slathered in it.

A week later I found a new couch on Craigslist. It sucks for sex because it has these stupid metal parts that tear into skin if you try to kneel on it. Science Girl and I tried to donate my old couch to goodwill (3 different ones, actually) but they weren't having it. We finally took it to the city dump and hoped that two girls dumping a blood stained couch wouldn't look suspicious.

Congratulations!

2008-01-05T18:45:00.000-08:00

To the fabulous Bianca Reagan of Steve The Penguin! She's published her novel (also called Steve the Penguin). I get to review it and I am just dying to read it.

Bianca writes sharp, funny commentary about life and pop culture and everything in between. I shoulda blog rolled her ages ago, but I am nothing if not lazy.

Roll on over and tell her congrats. Or better yet- buy her book.

(Crossposted at Elizabitchez)

Quick Poll

2008-01-04T18:35:00.000-08:00

Since we've been talking about movies lately, what movie scene gets you all squishy and wiggly in your seat?

Gosford Park- there is a scene where Kelly MacDonald comes into Clive Owen's room while he's laying on his bed. There is this look in his eyes when he sees her that is all happy surprise, then he kisses her. There's no sex, but in my head- bam chicka wawa.

Javier Bardem in Before Night Falls (actually- Javier Bardem in damn near anything, The Dancer Upstairs is one of my all time favorite movies). It's his willingness to do full frontal swimming shots in this that makes me go all weak in the knees. I know he's playing a gay poet. I don't care. I have to wait to see Love in the Time of Cholera for it to come out on DVD, I don't know that I can control myself in a movie theater.

Total Fluff

2008-01-03T14:49:00.000-08:00

I waxed my eyebrows last night. I prefer to do it myself rather than pay the 7 bucks to the salon girl because something about the salon wax makes me break out for weeks afterwards. So a spent last night ripping the skin off my face.

Normally, that is not what happens. But somehow I got a little overzealous on my right eyelid. Now it is puffy and red and sore and maybe even bruised.

If I wasn't so damn intent on being able to keep my raised eyebrow of doom superpower, this never would have happened.

So that's why I hate modern romantic comedies

2008-01-02T17:49:00.000-08:00

Via Faux Real comes this piece in the New Yorker about how modern romantic comedies are less about sex and love and lust and more about responsibility and unequal matches.

I have always said that I would only marry if Cary Grant came back from the dead and asked me to elope to Italy with him. Grant, and other classic film hotties like Jimmy Stewart, were always equal to the women they were paired with, and the women were zany and eclectic and human in ways that women in modern romances are not.The point of the movies was usually women needed to save themselves from an unequal match with the kind of milquetoast buffoons who are now the leads in modern movies. In old movies, love was an adventure. In new movies, love is some horrible burden of grown up expectations.

I am sure that there is a backlash against feminism in all this. We still have this idea that all women are itching to get married right now, when from my experience and that of most of the women I'm friends with, marriage is something that is only thought of in lukewarm terms if it's thought of at all. So why are we subjected to all these stupid movies about desperate women trying to turn boys into marriageable men?

One of my favorite Cary Grant movies is Indiscreet with Ingrid Bergman. Bergman is a famous actress, Grant is a diplomat who fakes having a wife so people will stop trying to get him married off. They have a lovely affair full of wit and charm and all sorts of good stuff. Of course, Grant comes to realize that he loves Bergman enough to marry her, but not because she pulls and pushes him into it, but exactly the opposite. She accepted him as he was and was fine with their arrangement.

I'm tired of only seeing women as the killjoys of adventure in movies (and television) and I am tired of this portrayal of us as the dour gatekeepers of responsibility. It seems like in exchange getting some measure of sexual freedom and education and careers, we have to put up with being turned into boring cardboard funblockers.

I think this is also why things like Sex and the City and Bridget Jones Diary were so popular. With the exception of Charlotte, these were stories full of zany eclectic women looking for the adventure of love and not the commitment of marriage. In Bridget Jones, Bridget is far closer to the screwball characters of 50 years ago than to her bland and responsible modern counterparts.

So until Hollywood starts making women fun again, I'm sticking with classics romances and foreign films. I can't find anything to relate to in the modern movies. I don't know anyone that boring.

About that married man thing

2008-01-02T15:43:00.000-08:00

So I spent this morning trading insults in Russian, Spanish and Hebrew with a guy from an online dating place.

The married guy hackles went up pretty early on, but he's charming and funny, loves to travel as much as I do and loves Italian shoes as much as I do. Oh, and he taught me how to say warm wet pussy in hebrew.

I have no intention of doing anything more than email flirting with him, but I still feel ookey (it's a word, really. I got it from southpark so it must be real).

As the Russians would say- Piezdietz! (kinda like fuckity fuck fuck, or fuckles )

Quick Poll

2008-01-01T21:57:00.000-08:00

David Beckham- Photoshop enhanced package or real? Curious girls and gay boys around the world want to know.

More hot or not from the RQ

2008-01-01T08:55:00.000-08:00

It's a new year! And to help people with their resolutions, I give you my hot/not hot list for 2008!

Not hot: Boys in polo shirts. I once read that we dress the service class in uniforms similar to what the wealthy wear when at play. That's why you have a gazillion Starbucks barristas wearing polos and khakis as a uniform (put khakis on my list of things guys should not wear to get laid). A guy in a polo shirt no longer registers as wealthy preppy boy, but as someone who will take my orders at a drive through.

Hot: Boys in sweaters. yum.

So hot I will do bad things in public that could get me arrested: Boys in cashmere sweaters. I have a serious fetish for cashmere. I once threatened to do unspeakable things to someone's cashmere sweater. While he thought it was hot, he never wore the sweater around me again. Something about not wanting to explain it to the dry cleaners.

Not Hot: People (boys and girls) who LOL things that aren't funny just to seem like they are charming and witty. I never LOL, things that are actually funny make people actually laugh.

Hot: People who are actually charming and witty. Sarcasm, irony, brains are all better aphrodisiacs than a case of PBR.

Super Hot: Someone who is witty and charming and has a bigger vocabulary than me. I can remember the last time someone used a word in a way that I was unfamiliar with (the word was catholic, meaning worldly, not religious). I was impressed, but unfortunately he was wearing khakis and polo shirt so I couldn't sleep with him. That was almost 2 years ago.

Not Hot: Super short, super long, or super product hair. I know, guys don't have a shitload of options in the hair department, but super short is boring, super long is cheesy and anyone who uses more product than me is too high maint.

Hot: Long enough to put your fingers in, but not long enough to make a pony tail. Bonus points if your hair is naturally messy and wavy.

Not Hot: "natural" smelling boys. Seriously, here's some soap. I don't know if it's the crunchy granola Seattle thing or that I hang out with too many hipster musicians, but bathing regularly does not make you a sellout to corporate America.

Hot: Boys who use Downey. I can't use it myself (it gives me headaches) but I love cuddling up next to a boy who uses it.

Super Hot: a boy who smells a little bit like soap up close, and nothing else.

What's on your hot list?

Quick Poll

2007-12-21T15:30:00.001-08:00

Where's the best place you've ever had sex?

In a bookstore, feet up in the classics (did that many times as the lucky boy was the bookstore manager)

In a convertible with the top down on a warm summer night next to Lake Geneva, Switzerland (the only redeeming quality to Switzerland, if you ask me, was how many orgasms I had that night)

In the bathroom at Victrola (Shhhhhhhhhh- don't tell).

College Football Players Caught Up In Sexual Assault Case

2007-12-21T13:14:00.000-08:00

As posted on the Stranger's Slog:

NOT the way you'd expect. I want DETAILS!!! Read the story here.

I want to know how this happened! I don't care if it's true or not! What happened? How were they assaluted? What were the circumstances? Were they partying? Sleeping? Dosed/drugged? Role-playing?

Let your imaginations go crazy! Comments, people!

Crushes

2007-12-20T16:58:00.000-08:00

I know I mostly write about tawdry sex, and bad tawdry sex at that. But if it wasn't for the good stuff that comes from interacting with boys, I wouldn't keep taking the risks of the bad experiences in hope for something good. Besides, the bad ones make for fun stories to tell to friends and loved ones, so they are not completely wasted.

About a year ago I started emailing Hot Hot Horst. He's a journalist in Austria, he was working on a story and I had some insight for him. Since then we have been emailing each other regularly. We share a love of travel and art. When I mentioned an artist I love, he told me that he's done work for a museum that showcases her work. When 6- yes 6 people died last year , it was his emails that made me feel better.

So in March I am going to Paris and he may meet me there. I'm a wee bit nervous at the thought of it. Reality rarely lives up to fantasy, but it is a very romantic plot for two international strangers to meet in Paris. The secret mushy romantic that hides inside my cynical exterior is all a flutter.

Besides- did I mention he is hot. Like former model hot? At the very least, I may come back with some funny stories of bad dates and/or sex while traveling, so it won't be a complete waste.

Happy Birthday CJ

2007-12-19T22:12:00.001-08:00

You may be aging backwards, but your bootay just keeps getting better.

Now post something juicy or I will tell butt sweat stories.

Kissing Inappropriate boys

2007-12-18T04:34:00.000-08:00

There is a certain local bar (no- I am not telling you which one) where I always end up kissing inappropriate boys (and sometimes more than kissing).

Last time I went there to see an all girl punk rock band was standard me behaving badly. I have absolutely no idea where Mr. Too Preppy To Be At a Punk Rock Show came from. I don't even remember how we started talking, but I like to freak out the preppy boys- alot.

Somehow Mr. Too Preppy thought it was okay to ask me how many people I have slept with. I think it's a stupid question (and generally shows a serious level of prudishness on the part of the asker). I mean, if the way to get to Carnegie Hall is practice practice practice, I've been doing sold out shows there for years.

So I answered the only way I could "How the fuck should I know, nobody keeps track at orgies".

Knowing full well that the guy was an idiot who I would never sleep with (I have learned that prudishness rarely makes for a fun one night stand) I still ended up making out with the guy. Then his friend showed up, a brooding European guy who was way more my type. Turns out his friend had literally just flown in from Sweden. So Mr. Too Preppy says to Brooding European "This girl is the best kisser ever, man".

Of course, I had to show the Brooding European my skills, so I ended up making out with both of them.

Mr. Too Preppy asked for my number, I gave him the number to the phone I never answer (the line that comes dirt cheap with my internet access and is basically a voice mail waste land for bill collectors and inappropriate boys). While writing the number down for him, he has the gall to say "I have to be honest, I don't think I could ever seriously date a smoker".

"Who said anything about dating?" was my answer. Cause really, when was the last time you heard a dating story that ended in a serious relationship start with "We met outside of bar and I knew it was for keeps by the way she was alternating between sucking face with me and my best friend."

Of course, I could totally see a Brooding European saying that, but he's not the one that asked for my number.

(That night I actually ended up going home with a very hot Peruvian, but that's a whole nother story)

Hot Doctor

2007-12-16T14:48:00.000-08:00

Because I know he's reading this-

Hot Doctor proves that the stereotype that Asian men are small is a lie. Hot Doctor has a fab cock and massive skills.

Thanks Hot Doctor!

Seriously!

2007-12-16T00:58:00.000-08:00

I was just reading through the recent comments thing on the right and the number of times B or I start a comment with Seriously! is kinda funny. A thousand years from now archeologists are going to think Seriously was an english greeting..

Comments Policy- Cause it's needed

2007-12-15T03:28:00.000-08:00

Cause it's my (our) blog, my (our) discretion.

Try to keep comments to the discussion at hand. Interesting points of view and shared stories are welcome. badly written erotica and jokes about rodeo clowns are not.

If you're racist, sexist, assholish, repetitive, annoying or even just plain boring - I reserve the right to edit your comments and replace them with the Barney song

I love you
You love Me
We're a happy family

Or maybe I'm a little teacup. It's a mood thing really. Also possible are such nursery hits like The Ensy Weensy Spider or Humpty Dumpty.

I also may turn really awful comments into a blogpost to be made fun of and mocked accordingly. If you don't like these policies you are free to write your own blog and you are free to write on your own blog how mean and horrible I am and how you're just a poor misunderstood asswipe. But not here.

Orgies- a PSA

2007-12-14T23:39:00.000-08:00

I once had a boyfriend who belonged to a sort of orgy club. We went together a few times, neither of us being the jealous sort. The first time was awesome, the second time was alright, the third time turned me off to orgies forever.

As with most public or group sex stuff, the numbers of willing boys vastly swamp the number of willing girls, by about 4 or 5 to one. These are ratios that I am rather happy with, being a girl who gets bored easily and likes a whole lot of variation.

Once or twice a month, the group would get together in a large hotel room. About a half an hour before nekkid time, new members and old hands could hang out, fully clothed and get comfortable with each other and then at the designated time everyone would strip. That first time I was nervous, but being the kind of girl who refuses to let people see me acting scared, I dropped trow pretty fast and started making out with nearest naked hot guy. I was told that was the quickest they had ever seen a newbie jump into things- a land speed record of sorts. Very soon after I was laid out on a bed, fucking and sucking while many hands touched me all over. It was hot. At some point I squirted into a guys mouth. He told me (and the entire room) that I taste like oranges.

The second time, most of the guys were new and nervous. I think nervousness multiplies exponentially, and we were only there for a little while when the guy who I had squirted at and his girlfriend invited a few of us back to their apartment for a more private party. There were 6 of us altogether, 3 couples. I got to help my boyfriend "double stuff" one of the girls there, which was really really hot and then she gave me multiple multiples later that night.

The third time, I was already fighting off a headache when we got there. I got into the action for a little bit, until some new guy climbed on top of me and had a bout of nerves (couldn't perform for a crowd- I guess). I got up, threw on my robe and was walking to the balcony for a smoke break when I saw the thing that turned me off orgies forever. Near the door to the balcony, a skinny ass white guy was rabbit humping a lovely black girl (the girlfriend of the oranges guy). She was on her back and didn't have the view that I did of skinny white guy's ass thump thumping in the air. Skinny white guy didn't have the worlds best hygiene. As a matter of fact, skinny white guy could have used a washlet- cause he was letting his dingleberries fly.

I ran back to my boyfriend and told him we had to leave. He was pretty cool and 5 minutes later we were in the car while I told him about the dingleberries. He was more than a little OCD about hygiene and perfectly understood my freak out.

I popped a couple of migraine pills and an ambien in the car on the way home for my headache. That was the only night I have ever had sex that I do not remember in the slightest. Apparently I was pretty aggressive, so I made up some for us missing the orgy fun, even if I don't remember jack shit about it.

The moral of the story Kids- hygiene hygiene hygiene! Wash your ass before group sex adventures.

Dear Babeland:

2007-12-14T19:19:00.000-08:00

Over the years I have spent many many dollars in your store. I go through vibrating eggs like the Easter Bunny and should own stock in the AA battery market.

I love that I can feel like a total perve in your store without feeling like cheap discount perve. Your store is nice and the displays are good. You have carpet instead of cheap linoleum and none of your products are displayed in the stupid plastic packs of doom. You don't light up the store like a WalMart, with evil super bright fluorescents and your lube collection can't be beat.

So now that I have sung your praises, a few bitches.

We've all heard about women's love of the rabbit. I had one. It exploded and burned my thigh (thankfully nothing else). I can't get behind the Walh, it looks like the wand they use for giving pregnant women internal ultrasounds (and having had more than a few of those- I have now started asking for dim lights and buzzing action when the ultra sound tech whips it out).

What I want is a simple thing. A good strong buzzy vibe with both clit and g-spot stimulation that is rechargeable and not likely to blow up on my thigh. I'd also like it to be quite enough so that my neighbors don't think I'm doing construction when I turn it on.

Thank You
RQ

PS- if you ever need someone to do product testing and reviews- I am SOOOOOO your girl.

Things I find hot- and not

2007-12-13T14:18:00.001-08:00

Since we had a wee bit of a problem with someone thinking the comments section was a good place to dump bad erotica, I thought I'd give a little run down on things I like and things that bore me to sobs.

First- naughty girl needs big strong man to punish her to make her feel sexy porn. BAD. Really bad. Seriously not interesting. Look on craigslist and you can find hordes of guys looking for submissive women so they can live out their fantasy of being the alpha ape.With very few exceptions, guys who dig this kind of play are not guys who could inspire people to naturally follow them. This stuff makes me want to whip out a bamboo cane and flog the writers of this crap into submission.

Good- cheating wives, slut wives, cuckolds, etc. I like that these stories allow for female agency, though they can be chock full of bad racist stereotypes. Try finding that on craigslist and I will bet you that the "dominant" males will outstrip the cuckolds by 100 to 1.

Good- gay porn. Twice the cock, none of the misogyny. Nuff said

Bad- fake lesbians. I think in all the porn I've seen (most of it made for straight guys) I have only seen one actual lesbian box munching. The rest were obviously tepid attempts to look good for the camera without having to actually get in there.

Bad- most blowjobs. Evey single porn seems to end with a blow job and a facial. It's dull. It's lame. It's everywhere.

Good- cream pies. I think I find this sooooo hot because sex without a condom is not something I get to do. It's the ultimate taboo now, so I find it pretty damn sexy.

Good and bad- I like gangbang porn, but I am troubled by the abusiveness of it. In my head- gangbangs are more about a queen bee getting serviced by her loyal devotees. In actuality, girls in gang bangs are used as cum dumpsters.

more gmail chat fun

2007-12-12T14:55:00.000-08:00

Me: butt pain- why the butt pain?

CJ: We played whirlyball last night with co-workers. You have to drive bumper cars, and I suffered massive trauma to the upper left buttock.

me: this is sad
is that the same buttock you landed on at the cookie party
do you need to write a blog post about the hazzards of living with ghetto bootay

CJ: One and the same.
Maybe I do!

me: I think so
I think you need to documants all the accidents that you have had because of the bootay

CJ: Hmmmmm.... Can I include all the neck injuries that have been incurred by others as they turn around to watch me walk past?

me: true- ghetto bootay is a hazard to all
You should come with a warning sign- this bootay may cause whiplash.
i could make you one in photoshop and laminate it for you

CJ: Neat!

me: and put it on a string around your neck
Or maybe you just need your own custom t shirt

CJ: Or panties! [wink]

me: the panties would be seen too late. I fear you'd be liable in a lawsuit
I'm just looking out for ya

CJ: Oh......right.

me: Sweetie- with a bootay that fab- i can see a class action suit being brought against you

CJ: Ha! Thanks! [kissx]
Is that a kissy face?

me: I think it is
CJ: I meant it to be a kissy face.
;-x
[kissx]

me: We shall call it smooches and smooches shall be its name

CJ: What are ya doing this evening??
me: hiding out
being really rreally broke
and writing my bio for the book essay

CJ: Wanna bake cookies?

me: I can't

CJ: And drink godiva liquor?

me: I really am stuck at home till friday

CJ: Oooo-kay....

me: Sorry chiquita

CJ: sigh....

me: but I'll make you tortilla soup this weekend if you want

CJ: Hmmmmm.... mighty tempting!
I might need it on Sunday as a hangover treatment.

me: What ya doing Saturday night?

CJ: Santarchy!!!

me: Oh yay!

CJ: I am gonna be a reindeer though. Wanna come play with all the naighty Santas?

me: I just might
do I still have my glittery santa hat? I wonder

CJ: Let me know.... I'll be going to Dan's house first to play Wii... He has already been informed of my aversion to Wii though.
Yes, I have it!

me: Wiiiiiiiiii- it sounds like the golden shower hour

CJ: And then we're gonna drive (I think??) down to Georgetown to meet up with Santas.
It feels like that, too.
Blah.

me: If you drive- you should stop and pick me up

CJ: But we can watch and mock.

me: true
mockery is what i live for

Wanna be topped?

2007-12-11T15:22:00.000-08:00

Aunti Disestablishmentarian reminded me of a funny scene from a while back.
A girlfriend and I were standing outside of the Egyptian theater, smoking and getting coffee. While girlfriend is busy with the coffee guy, random cheesy guy (RCG for short) walks up to me and starts putting on the hard sell "hey baby"s. The strength of my "No, I'm not interested" was not enough to turn the guy away.

Girlfriend turns around after getting coffee, throws a protective arm around my should and says "Dude, we only like girls"

RCG: That's okay, I only like girls too

Me : Dude, I only sleep with boys when I can top them.

RCG: Oh I like it when girls are on top!

Me: No- top them, with my 8 inch pink strap on.

RCG: I'm not gay.

Me: Doesn't matter.

You ever have one of those days?

2007-12-11T13:44:00.000-08:00

You know those days where you're feeling particularly cocky? Maybe it's a really good hair day or you just got the cutest new fuck me boots. You're walking around like you're number one (thanks Violent Femmes!) You're cute, you're frisky, you could bring about word peace through the power of your cherry lip gloss alone!

And then you get home from a half hour bus ride only to notice that your zipper has been down for quite a while. And you think about how you were little Miss Cocky McSmiley face on the bus and how people must have thought you were some kind of grinning idiot.

I seem to have these kinds of days way more often than I should. Like today, wearing my favorite black cardy. It's super soft and warm and cut to the exact right spot to show off my curvy bits (and hide the lumpy ones). I should be wearing a tank underneath it, but none were clean and I was late to work.

So I am having a little discussion with the ancient librarian about him dumping a bunch of computer books on the lab and I am trying to flirt my way into getting bookends. HA! It worked, and he even agreed to put all the new books away for me!

When he leaves I look down to discover that my favorite sweater has managed to unbutton itself in the most revealing way possible. No wonder he offered to stack my shelves.

Your royal highness requests

2007-12-11T02:01:00.000-08:00

no, demands that CJ tell the story of the many arms of Shiva!

Monday gmail chats and outing blog readers

2007-12-10T16:45:00.000-08:00

CJ: Are ya back?

me: sort of

CJ: ?

me: in and out

what up

CJ: I'm back, from outer space, something something

I can never remember the words to that song!

me: I should have changed the stupid lock

CJ: That's why I suck at karaoke

me: And now your back, from outer space, I just came in somethin something to see that look upon your face

CJ: Oh yeah!!!

See.....

me: I should have changed the stupid lock I should have thrown away the key if I knew for just one second that you'd be back to bother me

CJ: You win!

me: Ha!

CJ: Sorry you were stressed out this weekend...

We should hang out after work this week.

me: I am broke broke broke till friday

CJ: Oh, my friend Neil in England says you're hot!

Me too!

Super broke!

I hate this!

me: Really- who is this neil

CJ: From Burning Man

Lives in England....

me: pics! I deman pics

CJ: he's a brit

me: demand

Is he as butsexx obsessed as most brits

CJ: I don't know that I have any. But he read your/our blog.

He said you were hot

me: then he should comment-

cause I like the comments

You know we have about 20 readers per day. Not huge but for a one week old blog that's pretty good

CJ: Yeah! That IS pretty good!

I'll have to write MORE!

me: Yes you do ccause I'm gonna use all my good sex stories someday

CJ: You jut have to make more happen

me: true dat

Wait-so is neil hot?

CJ: Yes, he is. And SUPER nice.

me: Seriously - pics!

CJ: He was our unofficial camp doctor the last year I went.

me: I am jst going to out him as a reader on the blog and demand pics

I am bitchy that way
CJ: Many of us (mostly girls) ended up in the med tent, and he kept coming over to make sure we were OK.

me: naughty

CJ: When I hurt my leg, he'd flag down rides for me. He even arranged for one of his camp-mates to take me across burning man because I was getting so damned sick of being in one place.

me: Aweee

CJ: OK, I'll e-mail him, tell him he has to send you pics himself.

I have none.
He has a great accent.

me: I'm just going to post this whole confersation as a blog post

CJ: And he let me bitch about the Brit as much as I wanted!

me: I just posted this and now I hae to pee

CJ: Even though he's a Brit, he's not nearly as bad as The Brit Idiot.

Sweet.

me: I like most brits

I've dated more than my fair share

I may even have a little fantasy about getting it on in front of brit school boys ala meaning of llife

CJ: Wooooooo, fun!

Sex on the first date- Hell ya!

2007-12-09T18:07:00.000-08:00

If I am feeling it, I think it's better to have sex sooner rather than later in a relationship. Sex is an important thing to me, and I need to be sure that I am going to click with someone sexually as much as I need to be sure I am going to click with someone in other ways.

Besides, every reason I have ever heard for girl's waiting to have sex is pretty stupid. He won't respect you, he's just looking for sex (maybe I am too), girls get all bondy over sex and having it too soon means you might feel too much for an idiot, blah blah blah.

First, on the respect thing. If I want sex, and he wants sex, I don't see anything respectful about waiting other than to prove some patriarchal bullshit about how women are the pussy gatekeepers and letting someone in without making them beg or plead for the appropriate amount of time makes you less respectful. I have more respect for people who know what they want and are willing to go get it, thank you very much.

He's just looking for sex. I may just be looking for sex. I often am just looking for sex. As long as everybody is honest upfront about their intentions, then we can all be grown up about it. I do generally follow the rule that booty calls and one night stands rarely turn into something more, so I don't get my heart all mixed up in what my naughty bits want.

Girls get all bondy over sex. Sometimes girls (and boys) get bondy over stupid people, sex or no sex (hello- how many poems, songs, plays, movies, novels have been written about unrequited love?) Sometimes people get their hearts broken because they want someone who doesn't want them. Part of being a grown up is learning not to waste too much time on this, and you only get to be good at figuring out when you're wasting time through practice, practice, practice.

And finally, the most important reason I don't like to wait to have sex- every single time I've done that with someone I've really liked is that I have been sorely disappointed once we finally did have sex. I mean major disappointment. I mean I could have been ironing my clothes or digging ditches and got more pleasure disappointed. I mean small, skilless, lazy, timid, boring, horrible sex.

I have tried, on at least 2 and a half occasions to be teacher to these disappointments. I am patient, kind, encouraging and really good at giving instructions. All that has ever come from it are boyz who are even lazier lovers than before I started. But I gave it a shot because on other levels we were very compatible. I've learned my lesson now, if the sex ain't pretty damn good to start with, I am not wasting my time.

And I am really not going to waste several dates before I find out if we are going to click in bed.

WTF is up with religious boys?

2007-12-08T05:52:00.000-08:00

I am fiercely agnostic and will fight with atheists and theists alike. I have NOOOOOOOOO interest in dating someone even vaguely religious, philosophical yes, but if the words "I believe Jesus Christ is my personal savior" have crossed your lips as an adult, I will mock you for trying to date me.

So why is it that I get little winks and emails from people who are so firm in their faith that it's part of their screen name, like nicechristian69? Why is it that I don't just get stalked by the weird guy I gave my phone number to one drunken New Years, but that weird guy is a priest who not only wants to fuck me but to save my soul while he does it? I am pretty sure that had I ever actually had sex with him, any happy "Oh god's that I might have shouted would have lead to a naked baptism in astroglide mid-coitus.

This is a great mystery to me, as I am not just apathetic in my disregard for religion, but militant and brutally sarcastic (as my poor, dear sweet Christian relatives know because I often step on their beliefs).

So this leaves me to wonder if these guys are actually serious in their beliefs, or if they think that coming off as a god-fearing man will make my panties drop just as magically as Jesus turned water into wine?

Hi! Wanna Do It Up The ASS?

2007-12-07T02:00:00.000-08:00

Red Queen and I both have a few mutual friends. In fact, we have one friend who introduced us both. The world has never been the same since.

We will call this friend "The Professor".

One night a couple of years ago, while I was still living in SoCal, I went up north to visit The Professor in his small Northern California town for Mardi Gras. It was a great weekend. There were lots of parties going on, tons to do, and people everywhere. I think that was the weekend that I forgot to pack underwear so my grandmother loaned me a pair of hers until I could go to Target and buy some clean ones. Yes, I literally wore real granny panties. Then, I found some panties with a SuperGirl logo on front, and it was all over from there. I got drunk and had to show everyone my cute new panties! Yeah, I am just shy like that.

Anyway, that is NOT the story I started out to tell. This is:

The Professor took me and some of his friends to a crazy hat party. Everyone's wearing crazy hats... It's a great reason to drink! I'm wandering around, talking to strangers, mingling, hanging out in a new town, enjoying myself, when I meet a cute boy. Cute boy and I hit it off. Cute boy and I start making out. Somehow we wind up in the laundry room (Don't ask me how, I was drinking, remember?). Making out, lalalalala, oh isn't this fun, lalalalalala... Cute boy says, "Let's go somewhere else." I say no, I don't want to lose my friends. I don't know where the party is in relation to where The Professor lives, and I don't want to get lost or anything really bad. Cute boy begs a little, I keep saying no, THEN cute boy says: "I want to fuck you in the ass."

Uh, WHAT??

Yes, that's right. He said: "I want to fuck you in the ass."

How do you go from meeting someone at a party and making out with them to suddenly fucking in the ass??? I am still at a loss for the logic here. What-- hi, you're cute, smoochie, smoochie, bend over baby-- OH YEAH!
Huh?

After that, I ran over and sat down next to The Professor. I had to protect the bootay. That was scary!! I was so embarrassed, I didn't tell him what had happened. I slowly revealed the story in the morning. At which point The Professor felt the need to show me this gem.

Thank, Professor!

And thank you, Dude Who Wanted To Fuck Me In The Ass, for such a great little story!!

Crank Yanker

2007-12-07T01:50:00.000-08:00

Or how CJ and I became fast friends.

Last year I met CJ in November when the Naughty Prof came up for a visit. We all went to dinner, had Ethiopian food, it was fun.

The night before my birthday, out of the blue CJ called and asked if I wanted to go to the Erotic Art Exhibit with her. No one else she knew was going and she didn't want to go by herself. I said sure, put on my best silky noir outfit and headed to her place where we had drinks while the ever late CJ finished getting ready.

The exhibit itself was awesome. My favorite was a photogragh of a Ken doll holding a life sized condom and staring up at a real woman's pussy. It was like an Almodovar movie. We had many, many drinks including the worst vodka collins ever made. While in the bar area, a big bear of a guy bumped into me. When he apologized and promised not to do it again, I made a snarky comment about how he better not or he'd be punished.

Well, turns out this guy, who will be called Crank Yanker, was a bit of a masochist. Yay! I'm a bit of a sadist. He specifically likes cock and ball torture, something that other boys never let me do. So I reached under the pub table we were standing at, grabbed a handfull of cloth and balls and yanked hard, up and out. He was a happy boy.

Soon, we were explaining to CJ how torturing boy's bits is done and of course she had to give it a go. Crank Yanker bought several more rounds of drinks. I was feeling no pain at all. Crank Yanker wanted to feel more pain, so he unzipped his pants and pulled out crank Jr. CJ and I took turns pulling, twisting and yanking till my hands hurt. CJ, who has the most beautiful hands ever and perfect long oval talons for nails, started digging into Crank Jr. More drinks were bought, more yanks were yanked. At some point I either kissed a girl or gave her my phone number, I cannot remember.

Somehow I got home.I assume a cab ride was involved. I was soooo sick that I grabbed the giant stock pot I use for turkey stock and spent the next 18 hours puking my guts out. My birthday party was the next night at 8pm, I didn't stop puking till 7:30. I think it's the only birthday I have spent sober since I discovered booze.

Every now and then I will meet someone who CJ knows and upon hearing my name I will get "Ohhhhh you're THAT girl". CJ has now been banned from telling that story without me.

Greetings and Slutuations

2007-12-07T01:48:00.000-08:00

I am very exxxcited to be participating in this project! I will call myself "CJ" to protect the innocent. Yes, I was the one who wanted to form the bad dates blog, and I was also the creator of the "pink stuff" comment. Perhaps I will expand on that at some point, but not just yet. I am such a tease!

I always come up with funny little names for the guys I date. Most of my friends know about the men I date through their descriptions, not through their real names because that gets too confusing. But when I say "The Idiot Brit" or "Many Arms of Shiva Guy" or "The Married Guy From Burning Man", then they know EXACTLY who I am talking about!

Which leads me into my first story. Funny that Red Queen just posted about married men AND about multiple partners as I was going to include both in my first post anyway. Red Queen, you read my mind!

So this is about how I met The Married Guy From Burning Man, or TMGFBM and one of our many adventures together. Funny thing is, TMGFBM told me straight away of his marital status. I had recently returned from my first burn in the desert and went to a welcoming bonfire hosted by a group of local Burners, as we call ourselves. At said bonfire, I brought some brownie treats with me to give away, and my schtick was to give away brownies for kisses. "I will give you a brownie if you give me a kiss!" It worked like a charm. The only concern I really recieved was if they were "magic brownies", to which I answered "They are magically delicious!", bought directly form the store, no "special" additives or anything. Anyway, I was wandering around, happily trading brownies for kisses, when I started speaking to TMGFBM. He told me right away about his marital status, but explained that they had an open relationship and they encouraged each other to date other people. All I remember is snuggling in a beach chair, a little groping here & there, the smell of fresh rotting seaweed (mmmmm!!), and the promises of undying love and fidelity. Ha! Undying love and fidelity from a freaking MARRIED man??!! That's a good one. But you know, some people are rather convincing. That, and his WIFE actually told me she thought we'd have fun together. Uh, OK, when the wife advocates it, I guess it's not cheating?

Well, she was cool with TMGFBM and I hooking up until she had a run of bad luck in the dating arena. Apparently, it's OK for your partner to get some on the side if you're also getting some, but it's not cool if it's a one-way thing. This is why I could never be poly ( short for polyamorous, "several lovers"). Not only is it too confusing, but it is just one big jealous disaster waiting to happen. It seems to be such a big cool thing right now to have "open" relationships... As in two people can date or be married or otherwise attached to each other, but they can also date other people and bring them into the mix somehow. BUT they have to be HONEST about it. As soon as one person starts sleeping around behind the other person's back, then it's cheating and all bets are off. If however, they can openly communicate about their sexual conquests, they will have reached Relationship Nirvana.

Funny how it's not that simple. Funny how human emotions get in the way of such a great idea. Funny how being poly sounds so similar to communism, if you replace money with love and reduce it from a state-run economic system to a much smaller scale. Anyway, they both sound really fabulous on paper, but in reality, they're not so hot.

So to go back to TMGFBM, things between us fizzled, obviously. His wife got jealous that we were getting along so well and she wasn't seeing anyone. I got tired of being the "other woman". He was never able to stay the night, we only had limited (but fun, passionate, crazy) times together, he had to watch his kids, I could never introduce him to my friends or family, we had to go out places where no one either of us would be recognized toward the end. It was not my idea of a healthy relationship. I don't honestly understand how a polyamourous relationship could be healthy, but it works for enough people. Not for me. I want all the attention, all the time.

That's a good start, yeah? More to come, sorry it took awhile to get the first one going! I have to be better disciplined at this, or the Red Queen is gonna spank me!

*-CJ-*

Caught Ya!

2007-12-06T19:45:00.000-08:00

Everybody has an embarrassing masturbation story, some of us are just way more shameless at admitting them.

When I was in high school, my mother was convinced I was bulimic because of all the time I spent in the shower. She was sure I was puking down the drain. Truth was, I discovered the magic of the shower massage. But that is not anywhere near the most embarrassing thing.

A few years ago I lived in a building where I was fortunate to be close friends with every single other tenant. We were always in and out of each others apartments, gossiping, sharing dinners, threatening to beat our children. I was lax about locking my door. It was a buzzer building anyways.

One afternoon, after a particularly randy phone conversation with my favorite London boy, I whipped out my favorite toy, hiked up my skirt and went to town in my living room. Several minutes later my neighbor came barging into my apartment. "Oh my god! You're never gonna believe..." I don't remember what she was talking about, I just remember pulling my skirt down as casually as I could. But, because of the nature and position of the toy- I could not turn it off.

My neighbor kept talking for a few minutes while I sat there, eyes glazed and desperately hoping she would finish soon. Finally, she grew quiet.

"Uhm, you're buzzing"

"Yes, yes I am"

It took about 5 seconds for her to realize what she'd walked into. She ran out, mortified and apologetic. We're still good friends but I am much better about locking my doors now.

Top 10 Break Up Songs

2007-12-05T17:33:00.000-08:00

Once, in the midst of a relationship that was bad, bad bad (you know the ones where no amount of logical thinking will let you end it before everyone is wounded and bloody) I made they guy a mix CD. But not a regular mix CD, but a CD full of bitter, cynical love songs.

These songs I played over and over and over on my MP3 player until I was finally done with the guy just so I could remember how awful he made me feel. I thought I would share few, so here is a list of my top 10 break up songs.

10) The Magnetic Fields- I Don't Believe You (Is there ANYTHING better than a bitter Stephen Merrit when breaking up? Prolly not)

9) The Shins- Gone For Good

8) Sooooooo embarrassed to admit this: Gwen Stefani- Holla Back Girl (It's a great song for stomping around and using angry energy to get stuff done, but I am still ashamed)

7) Jude- The Asshole Song

6) Rufus Wainright- Instant Pleasure (this could actually be my theme song, but it was good to be reminded while I went through rebound boys)

5) April March- Chic Habit

4) The Sundays- Goodbye

3)Kaiser Chiefs - Every day I love you less and less

2) Postal Service- Nothing Better
I love the line about charts and graphs

1) The Decemberists- The Mariner's Revenge (at one point I sat naked on top of the guy and sang the chorus to him -I told you it was bloody)

Find him
Bind him
Tie him to a pole
and break his fingers
to splinters
then drag him to a hole
until he wakes up
screaming
clawing at the ceiling of his grave

Porn!

2007-12-05T05:00:00.000-08:00

I am not the only girl I know who has broken a computer while watching porn.

Speaking of porn, you should head over to bitchphd and check out this fabulous post by M. Leblanc. I've had the exact same problems with porn, which is why I read a lot of trashy amateur erotica instead of watching movies now. I don't intellectually like the standard porn girl model, but I am not turned on by watching different and more realistic porn stuff.

I think I know part of why that is though. I think seeing something that should be more common (larger, imperfect bodies, hair, etc) has become so unusual in porn as to be fetishized and distracting if that is not your fetish. While I am trying to put myself into the girl's place and enjoy the show, instead my mind is wandering with thoughts of "Wow, pubic hair!"

What is also interesting to me is how different cultures have different kinks. I have a collection of porn mags from around the world, and it says a lot about what a culture thinks is taboo. Latin America, home of machismo, is full of cunnilingus, for example.

How to spot a married man

2007-12-04T12:58:00.000-08:00

I seem to be some sort of freak magnet for married men. I think it's that I'm a bit of a libertine and my easy sexuality gets confused as a lack of morals. Not true actually. I have a high level of intolerance for lying. Lying to someone about who you are eliminates that person's choice. They think they are choosing one kind of relationship, when really they are being tricked into another. And if a guy is willing to lie to his wife, the person he promised to love till death, about you -then he will have no problems lying to you about everything.

So I thought I'd share my knowledge with you all. First, there are the normal big tip offs: only gives you his cell number, has a weird schedule, you never go to his place but to yours. Every single trashy girl mag will give you those clues, but that's not all there is.

1) Married guys are super romantic. Cards, flowers, mushy emails, sappy songs and poetry are all part of their tool kit. Remember, he's got a wife at home who has been telling him for years that he could be more romantic, so he knows what he's supposed to be doing. It's just with you he can do the easy romantic stuff without also having to do things like take out the trash or help put the kids to bed.

2) Presents, presents, presents. I've gotten a trip to Europe, really expensive shoes (my favorite Italian sandals and another pair of swanky heels), perfume, Lush products ( I love Lush, but it's so expensive I rarely can afford it myself). These are from guys who know they can't give you what you really want, so they buy your affection. What you really want is someone who will kill spiders for you or be there when your grandma dies. But married guy can't (and doesn't want to) do those things, he's already doing them for someone else. So they give really good presents.

3) Married guys talk- a lot. You would think that they just want to get down to dirty sex, but they are bigger talkers and less frequent fuckers than any other group of men I know. Again, they are doing with you what they can't do with their wives. Intricate discussions about literature and philosophy and art are hard to have when your wife is pissed because you left the laundry molding in the washing machine. But with you, they have no history of assholish neglect (yet) so they can have those big gorgeous discussions that get lost in everyday life.

In short, watch out for the super romantic, present-giving talker, he's already got one woman that he's making miserable and you don't need to be woman number two (or 3 or 4). That is the grand sum of my married guy wisdom.

Hello, is this thing on?

2007-12-03T15:20:00.000-08:00

"I could totally write a blog about bad dates" a friend of mine said a few weeks ago. Hell, I even got a story about one of my bad dates published in Salon (pseudonymously) a few years ago. After a drunken comment at a party this weekend and a few minutes of chat with the above mentioned friend this morning "Don't touch the pink stuff!" was born

I also wanted a place where I could write about the more tawdry bits of my life. Sure I hint about them at my other place, but I am growing tired of hinting and sometimes a girl just wants to come out with the anal sex stories. Given that there are already naked pictures out there of me somewhere, I can prolly never run for political office. So I might as well tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Joining me in this little adventure is a dear friend- but I'm gonna let her introduce herself.

Until then, here's a little story about the latest almost stable boy to be kicked out of the stable.

A certain youngster, we'll call him The Puppy, reappeared just in time for my Thanksgiving fete. He's very hot and as with most younger guys, able to keep going and going and going. I like that in a stable boy. Anyways, he kept hinting about how very kinky he really is (very kinky people rarely hint, they just pull out the flogger and ask if it turns you on). But I took the bait anyways.

The longest lasting of the stable boys, Trucker Hat, has owed me a threesome with another boy ever since the first night we got together almost 5 years ago. See, I had a good girl friend over and rather than leave her out, I made sure everyone was happy. Trucker Hat is reliable (multiple multiples each and every time) and the only reason for not having paid me back was that boys are not nearly as open at sharing a girl as they are at being shared by two girls.

So since The Puppy claims kinkiness, I asked if he wanted to be the other piece of bread in a royal sandwich. There was some hemming, some hawing, and then he asked if a girl friend of mine would join in.

Nope. Threesomes or moresomes with girls a way more easy to come by than with boys, but having a boy in the room with another girl changes the dynamic. For me, it is twice the work and half the fun (and if it's a bi-curious girl, then it's all the work and no fun). Another girl all by herself is fine, but no more ultimate boy fantasies for me. The Puppy, once a cute little energetic ball of man meat, was now a boring and pedestrian blah.

While it may seem unfair of me, I've done both the boy and girl versions of this before. The MFF version is almost always the lazy man fuck. Very few boys have the cock stamina to pull off satisfying 2 girls and someone (me) always ends up being cruise director. Not to mention that all ideas of a MFF involve the girls getting each other off, yet MMF are usually straight. The guys don't ever have to touch each other. (I am waiting for the holy grail of a hot bi-boy threesome, but bi boys are even more difficult to pin down).

If I had a dollar for every guy who has asked me about a "hot girlfriend" joining us, I'd retire to Italy and live in Prada. It's cliche, it's BORING. Been there, done that, could teach a graduate degree class in it. Wanna prove that you're really kinky, tell me about your cute guy friend with the big cock. That's hot.