I’ve been out of the blogging loop. Sue me.
I met a dude I really like. He really likes me too. (Cue: Applause)
This man is pretty much the most socially awkward dude I’ve ever met. You know it’s bad when you find yourself comparing his behavior to that of Napoleon Dynamite. But all the same, he’s my socially awkward man.
He’s really quiet…..almost mute. I question what he’s thinking most of the time. We’re polar opposites. I feel like I’ve always been searching for someone as loud and as outrageous as myself, and always seemed to find myself terribly heartbroken and disappointed in the end. So, needless to say, I’m quite surprised that this little love affair has been going on for over 4 months already.
I was even more surprised when this dude uttered the phrase, “I love you” the other day.
I admit, the last time I said that to someone it ended up pretty disastrous, so I hesitated and stayed silent. My first thought was, “Oh shit…..just kiss him….maybe he won’t notice that you didn’t respond”.
Then he said it again…..and again.
SHIT!
I had to just come right out and say it, “I feel the same way but I’m not ready to say it back yet.”
I thought I had certainly just broken this guy’s heart, but he looked me in the eyes and said, “I don’t need you to say it back right now. I don’t want to pressure you into saying anything. When you feel it…..if you ever feel it…. just say it. But you should know that I don’t say things like this….but I do….I love you. ”
Note: If we weren’t already naked, this would be the point where clothes would fly.
You guys…..seriously…..I think I’m in love with Napoleon Dynamite.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
tales of a shit bag
GUEST POST
Some days you’re just so thirsty for some pussy, that you’d do or say anything just to get your tip in. Or maybe that’s just me?
(My tendency is to want what I can’t have.)
So when a girl I’m dating dry humps me 'til the veins on my cock are about to burst, refusing to fuck me until I take an STD test, I’ll lie.
I’ll tell her how I set up a doctor’s appointment. A few days later I'll text to say that I made it to said appointment and a few more after that, another text apprising of the green light for some good old fashion fucking.
When she asks to see the results, I’ll let her know “I’ll bring them buy tomorrow, framed and matted”. Then instead, I’ll ignore her calls/texts and never speak to her again.
Or maybe a girl really wants to fuck but I refuse to use lifestyles condoms because I rip straight through them; I’ll lie and inform her that I had a vasectomy. Luckily, I have this wicked scar that trails from my taint to my balls, crediting my deception.
But come on, you should see these girls (!) with their gloriously monstrous asses and tits the size of my head, spewing suggestions of things they would do to me.
Purring lines you’d only hear in Hustler editorials.
They had it ‘cumming’.
(Did you see what I did there?)
I'm a scumbag.
Some days you’re just so thirsty for some pussy, that you’d do or say anything just to get your tip in. Or maybe that’s just me?
(My tendency is to want what I can’t have.)
So when a girl I’m dating dry humps me 'til the veins on my cock are about to burst, refusing to fuck me until I take an STD test, I’ll lie.
I’ll tell her how I set up a doctor’s appointment. A few days later I'll text to say that I made it to said appointment and a few more after that, another text apprising of the green light for some good old fashion fucking.
When she asks to see the results, I’ll let her know “I’ll bring them buy tomorrow, framed and matted”. Then instead, I’ll ignore her calls/texts and never speak to her again.
Or maybe a girl really wants to fuck but I refuse to use lifestyles condoms because I rip straight through them; I’ll lie and inform her that I had a vasectomy. Luckily, I have this wicked scar that trails from my taint to my balls, crediting my deception.
But come on, you should see these girls (!) with their gloriously monstrous asses and tits the size of my head, spewing suggestions of things they would do to me.
Purring lines you’d only hear in Hustler editorials.
They had it ‘cumming’.
(Did you see what I did there?)
I'm a scumbag.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
get out that tiny violin for me and start playing now
So I'm on a date the other night and we're drinking bourbon in hot mulled cider -- it held my regard, my date however did not.
He talked a lot which helped because he didn't notice that I wasn't paying attention.
The bartenders laughed, I rolled my eyes, they engaged me with videos on their phones. I got drunk enough that I thought I was entertained.
We went for dinner after that. I paid.
After I'd dropped enough money and was ready to go home he kissed me, shoving his mustache hairs in my nose. It was early and I was bored so I decided I'd take him home to see how big his penis was.
I couldn't find it.
Sigh.
Never again.
He talked a lot which helped because he didn't notice that I wasn't paying attention.
The bartenders laughed, I rolled my eyes, they engaged me with videos on their phones. I got drunk enough that I thought I was entertained.
We went for dinner after that. I paid.
After I'd dropped enough money and was ready to go home he kissed me, shoving his mustache hairs in my nose. It was early and I was bored so I decided I'd take him home to see how big his penis was.
I couldn't find it.
Sigh.
Never again.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
leave zoo sex to the french
Tuesday begins, guest posts!
The first in this series by a male friend, a self-proclaimed, lovable-scumbag.
...........................................................................................................................
At the peak of my pussy-pursuing days, online dating sites were my number one source of guilt-free sex. For every ten messages I’d send out there would be at least three or four replies to work with. Pretty good odds if you ask me. Not only that, but every so often I’d get an unprompted message, which would of course do tremendous things to my (already inflated) ego.
The number of women I’ve bedded through my online conquests remains unknown to me; although I'm sure I have a list somewhere.
Let's begin.
I’m not the biggest animal lover in the world.
My love for creatures can be summed up to simply, cats, turtles and hamsters.
That’s it.
I especially hate dogs.
HATE DOGS.
I especially hate little dachshunds.
Little dachshunds whom you insist should stay in the room while we’re trying to get it on.
Yup, you insist on leaving it the room while I’m trying to go down on you.
You want to know why I hate this? Sometimes, it invites itself in on the (oral) fun.
You know what makes it worse? What I especially hate?
I hate that you let it happen.
You say, "Oh it's ok, I let him do that sometimes"
Fucking really?
Threesomes are cool.
Threesomes with your hot dog are not.
The first in this series by a male friend, a self-proclaimed, lovable-scumbag.
...........................................................................................................................
At the peak of my pussy-pursuing days, online dating sites were my number one source of guilt-free sex. For every ten messages I’d send out there would be at least three or four replies to work with. Pretty good odds if you ask me. Not only that, but every so often I’d get an unprompted message, which would of course do tremendous things to my (already inflated) ego.
The number of women I’ve bedded through my online conquests remains unknown to me; although I'm sure I have a list somewhere.
Let's begin.
I’m not the biggest animal lover in the world.
My love for creatures can be summed up to simply, cats, turtles and hamsters.
That’s it.
I especially hate dogs.
HATE DOGS.
I especially hate little dachshunds.
Little dachshunds whom you insist should stay in the room while we’re trying to get it on.
Yup, you insist on leaving it the room while I’m trying to go down on you.
You want to know why I hate this? Sometimes, it invites itself in on the (oral) fun.
You know what makes it worse? What I especially hate?
I hate that you let it happen.
You say, "Oh it's ok, I let him do that sometimes"
Fucking really?
Threesomes are cool.
Threesomes with your hot dog are not.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
full release
DEEP IN THE ARCHIVES
The beginning of a series about a man I call Indy. Formal introduction to this period of my life and our relationship still to come.
It's summer of 2007 and we're hanging at his house one afternoon, playing video games and drinking. I soon bored of the tv, like I do, and began undressing us before straddling him on the futon.
I love riding men on futons because the bar in the back allows for a sort of leverage, allowing me to lean into them in ways my core muscles aren't robust enough to. While mounted and riding cock in bed, I often wish there was a bar was installed on the wall so that I could accomplish this same acrobatic feat without having to own that horrid piece of furniture that is, the futon.
Anyway, we're listening to Aesop Rock's All Day mix for Nike, which I should add is a fabulous 45 minute track for fucking, if you're not familiar, try it out. I gave him a zealous ride, easing into him and then bouncing us hard depending where the beat took us. I love a good soundtrack, it picks the rhythm for you, takes you to places.
He leaned his head back at one point and said, "you're so crazy". I remember this distinctly, not because of what he said but rather the voice he said it in. He had a tone when I fucked him right that I never heard any other time. It was like a cookie to me; you've done good pig.
After I'd come several times and he'd blown his load between our bodies, I smashed against him, sliding my body against his chest, feeling his cum drip down between us. We enjoyed the requisite post-coital make out and then jumped in the shower.
When we came back to the living room refreshed and ready to play some more katamari, he noticed a stain on the couch.
I fucked the man so good he shit his couch.
Yup, shit on his couch.
to be continued..
The beginning of a series about a man I call Indy. Formal introduction to this period of my life and our relationship still to come.
It's summer of 2007 and we're hanging at his house one afternoon, playing video games and drinking. I soon bored of the tv, like I do, and began undressing us before straddling him on the futon.
I love riding men on futons because the bar in the back allows for a sort of leverage, allowing me to lean into them in ways my core muscles aren't robust enough to. While mounted and riding cock in bed, I often wish there was a bar was installed on the wall so that I could accomplish this same acrobatic feat without having to own that horrid piece of furniture that is, the futon.
Anyway, we're listening to Aesop Rock's All Day mix for Nike, which I should add is a fabulous 45 minute track for fucking, if you're not familiar, try it out. I gave him a zealous ride, easing into him and then bouncing us hard depending where the beat took us. I love a good soundtrack, it picks the rhythm for you, takes you to places.
He leaned his head back at one point and said, "you're so crazy". I remember this distinctly, not because of what he said but rather the voice he said it in. He had a tone when I fucked him right that I never heard any other time. It was like a cookie to me; you've done good pig.
After I'd come several times and he'd blown his load between our bodies, I smashed against him, sliding my body against his chest, feeling his cum drip down between us. We enjoyed the requisite post-coital make out and then jumped in the shower.
When we came back to the living room refreshed and ready to play some more katamari, he noticed a stain on the couch.
I fucked the man so good he shit his couch.
Yup, shit on his couch.
to be continued..
Friday, November 5, 2010
ah, everyone loves a good black out
So I drunk dialed someone I haven't talked to in about 3 years the other night. He popped back into my life about a month ago but interaction was mostly mid-day IM'ing about not wanting to be at work.
He called me the next day to follow-up on a date we had planned; I didn't remember anything about it. I also apparently said some pretty explicit things, he didn't even want to repeat them.
Him: You were ridiculous last night. I laughed for an hour straight and then you were gone.
Me: Sooo, I said...?
Him: Well for one, you said that you weren't going to have sex with me, probably. However I could fuck you with your dildo and if you squirted on my face, you'd lick it off.
Me: Sounds like me.
He called me the next day to follow-up on a date we had planned; I didn't remember anything about it. I also apparently said some pretty explicit things, he didn't even want to repeat them.
Him: You were ridiculous last night. I laughed for an hour straight and then you were gone.
Me: Sooo, I said...?
Him: Well for one, you said that you weren't going to have sex with me, probably. However I could fuck you with your dildo and if you squirted on my face, you'd lick it off.
Me: Sounds like me.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
go bold or go home
I actually met someone on the train this week.
(Scenario)
We catch eyes. We smile.
Repeat.
I typed "call me, xxx-xxx-xxxx" on my phone, tapped him on the shoulder and held it up.
With a smirk and a nod, he clicked at his phone.
A short while later I was walking into work when I got a text, "This is _______, that was ballsy. What made you do it?" I replied, "It was a 'just do it' moment"
Around lunchtime he calls to tell me that he has a girlfriend, who lives with him but his intrigue was too strong to ignore me. He was excited that something 'interesting' had happened.
Later in the week, he met me on the train platform, with coffee. Kinda sweet. I have this strange, totally platonic breed of adultry going on, it's called 'the train date'.
(Scenario)
We catch eyes. We smile.
Repeat.
I typed "call me, xxx-xxx-xxxx" on my phone, tapped him on the shoulder and held it up.
With a smirk and a nod, he clicked at his phone.
A short while later I was walking into work when I got a text, "This is _______, that was ballsy. What made you do it?" I replied, "It was a 'just do it' moment"
Around lunchtime he calls to tell me that he has a girlfriend, who lives with him but his intrigue was too strong to ignore me. He was excited that something 'interesting' had happened.
Later in the week, he met me on the train platform, with coffee. Kinda sweet. I have this strange, totally platonic breed of adultry going on, it's called 'the train date'.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
new era
Sorry readers! My portion of the blog has been on hiatus.
The majority of the missing time was spent in a brief but wonderful love story, a subsequent shattered heart, followed by a super fun stint with the most colorful village bicycle on this side of town.
I've been both brazen and a hussy since May.
Lessons have been learned and here I am, more jaded, more guarded, and more emotionally unavailable than ever before.
The two most important things I learned:
1. Don't fuck your friend's ex
2. Don't fuck your readers
This begins the 'go bold or go home' initiative where I take life, men, and my projects by the balls.
Anyone in the mood to be spanked? I just waxed my paddle.
The majority of the missing time was spent in a brief but wonderful love story, a subsequent shattered heart, followed by a super fun stint with the most colorful village bicycle on this side of town.
I've been both brazen and a hussy since May.
Lessons have been learned and here I am, more jaded, more guarded, and more emotionally unavailable than ever before.
The two most important things I learned:
1. Don't fuck your friend's ex
2. Don't fuck your readers
This begins the 'go bold or go home' initiative where I take life, men, and my projects by the balls.
Anyone in the mood to be spanked? I just waxed my paddle.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Seasonal Internship Position Available
The Brazen Hussies are currently accepting applications for fourth quarter boyfriends. Please review the requirements listed below. Those who do not meet the majority of these requirements need not apply.
1. Please be up to date on all of your shots
2. Must have bachelors degree or higher (PhD preferred)
3. Self starter, highly motivated with an excellent credit history
4. Must be able to clean up after himself
5. Must look glorious in a three piece suit
6. Witty bantering skills (70 wpm. No mumblers)
7. Must bathe regularly (with soap- we can't emphasize that enough)
8. Must have full-time job and be willing to pay for a meal once in a while
9. No children from previous relationships (no exceptions)
10. No criminal history
11. Must be skilled in the art of mingling
12. Please be able to handle your booze responsibly
13. Fix-it men are a plus
14. Should be willing to make the first move (and it better be a damn good one)
Please note that this is an unpaid internship lasting Fall to Winter of 2010, with the possibility of becoming a full-time position in the future. Availability of at least 25 hours a week is a must (generally after the hours of 5pm).
Benefits included: home cooked meals, endless supplies of cuddles, handmade scarves, intelligent conversation, and lots of chandelier swinging sex
Please submit resumes and photos (preferably nude) to:
itllbebetternexttime@gmail.com
We look forward to hearing from you.
1. Please be up to date on all of your shots
2. Must have bachelors degree or higher (PhD preferred)
3. Self starter, highly motivated with an excellent credit history
4. Must be able to clean up after himself
5. Must look glorious in a three piece suit
6. Witty bantering skills (70 wpm. No mumblers)
7. Must bathe regularly (with soap- we can't emphasize that enough)
8. Must have full-time job and be willing to pay for a meal once in a while
9. No children from previous relationships (no exceptions)
10. No criminal history
11. Must be skilled in the art of mingling
12. Please be able to handle your booze responsibly
13. Fix-it men are a plus
14. Should be willing to make the first move (and it better be a damn good one)
Please note that this is an unpaid internship lasting Fall to Winter of 2010, with the possibility of becoming a full-time position in the future. Availability of at least 25 hours a week is a must (generally after the hours of 5pm).
Benefits included: home cooked meals, endless supplies of cuddles, handmade scarves, intelligent conversation, and lots of chandelier swinging sex
Please submit resumes and photos (preferably nude) to:
itllbebetternexttime@gmail.com
We look forward to hearing from you.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
I couldn't even go 3 days
Got caught at the airport the other day with my dildo.
The TSA woman asks,"what's this?" while gesturing the curve shape of the toy with her hand.
me: a dildo ma'am
her: a what?
me: a DILdoooh ma'am
her: ???
me: a sex toy!
her: step this way ma'am
Man standing next to me makes an awkward look of disgust and shakes his head.
She proceeds to pull me aside and with gloved hands begins to dig through my bag. It was at the bottom and she took her time. When she got to it, she pulled it out and asked, "this???"
me: yes ma'am, that's it
her: (to the other ladies she works with) Have you ever seen anything like this?
Lady 1: What isssss that?
Lady 2: How would you use it?
me: FML
They put it though the xray machine a few times, taking turns pulling it back out and squealing. Mothers in line were covering their children's eyes, everyone staring at me. I tied my shoe.
The TSA agent comes back, holding it at shoulder height, away from her body with two fingers - I was allowed to put it back in my bag. If it wasn't stainless steel and able to be boiled, I think I would've thrown it out.
However, this won't stop me from bringing it again. I'd rather become a pro at embarrassment.
The TSA woman asks,"what's this?" while gesturing the curve shape of the toy with her hand.
me: a dildo ma'am
her: a what?
me: a DILdoooh ma'am
her: ???
me: a sex toy!
her: step this way ma'am
Man standing next to me makes an awkward look of disgust and shakes his head.
She proceeds to pull me aside and with gloved hands begins to dig through my bag. It was at the bottom and she took her time. When she got to it, she pulled it out and asked, "this???"
me: yes ma'am, that's it
her: (to the other ladies she works with) Have you ever seen anything like this?
Lady 1: What isssss that?
Lady 2: How would you use it?
me: FML
They put it though the xray machine a few times, taking turns pulling it back out and squealing. Mothers in line were covering their children's eyes, everyone staring at me. I tied my shoe.
The TSA agent comes back, holding it at shoulder height, away from her body with two fingers - I was allowed to put it back in my bag. If it wasn't stainless steel and able to be boiled, I think I would've thrown it out.
However, this won't stop me from bringing it again. I'd rather become a pro at embarrassment.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
you know you're a hussy when
You're talking to a friend about a past lover, and come to the realization that one of their past lovers and one of your past lovers, have also been lovers.
A poor young lady was dating the professor and fell for him.
Meanwhile, I'm seeing the professor in a different capacity.
She really started to like him at a Cubs game.
I turned down attending that same Cubs game first.
She didn't want to have sex with him because when she does have sex with men, they typically don't call her again. The professor was no different and their time together was over after the third date.
I found out from my friend that as it turns out, this poor young lady happens to have a hairy ass. Like, really hairy.
We all know why the men don't call back. The question is, why hasn't she figured that out?
A poor young lady was dating the professor and fell for him.
Meanwhile, I'm seeing the professor in a different capacity.
She really started to like him at a Cubs game.
I turned down attending that same Cubs game first.
She didn't want to have sex with him because when she does have sex with men, they typically don't call her again. The professor was no different and their time together was over after the third date.
I found out from my friend that as it turns out, this poor young lady happens to have a hairy ass. Like, really hairy.
We all know why the men don't call back. The question is, why hasn't she figured that out?
Monday, July 12, 2010
Rear Window
I'm beginning to suspect that my neighbors think I'm a total slut.
They always seem to be "gardening" or "barbecuing" when I have my guy friends over to hang out.
For all they know, these "guy friends" could be gayer than a handbag full of rainbows.
Am I schtupping these guys?
....Of coarse....don't be silly.
Do I care what the neighbors think of me?
....not really, but it would be nice if they could go in their houses for a change. There's only so much gardening and barbecuing a person can do in a week.....and I'm pretty sure that they're putting in overtime just to see who I'll bring home next.
Thank God for curtains!
They always seem to be "gardening" or "barbecuing" when I have my guy friends over to hang out.
For all they know, these "guy friends" could be gayer than a handbag full of rainbows.
Am I schtupping these guys?
....Of coarse....don't be silly.
Do I care what the neighbors think of me?
....not really, but it would be nice if they could go in their houses for a change. There's only so much gardening and barbecuing a person can do in a week.....and I'm pretty sure that they're putting in overtime just to see who I'll bring home next.
Thank God for curtains!
Saturday, June 26, 2010
He's Just Not That Into You
Even after weeks of trying to make something truly special last, I find myself in the same vicious cycle. I don't ask for much. A call. A text. An email once in a blue moon. But in the end, I find that I put far more effort into things than the "truly special" party ever does.
Am I needy? Kinda.
I require attention. Although I've been claiming that it's my fatal flaw, I'm now thinking otherwise. If you like me, you would be calling me, texting me, and emailing me. Why waste someone's time, right?
I'm just saying, girls get hung up on the "he's not calling me", "he's not responding to my texts"......well guess what?....it's probably because he could care less.
Move on sweetheart.
Someone who truly "gets" you is out there. Someone who wants to be with you every hour of the day, loves your silly moments, anxiously awaits your calls, and can't help to laugh at your terrible jokes is out there. Searching for that person is a lost cause. Your paths will cross when it's the right time.
...but until then....life goes on.
(And Yes....that was entirely a pep-talk for myself...but I figured others could relate and needed to hear it.)
Am I needy? Kinda.
I require attention. Although I've been claiming that it's my fatal flaw, I'm now thinking otherwise. If you like me, you would be calling me, texting me, and emailing me. Why waste someone's time, right?
I'm just saying, girls get hung up on the "he's not calling me", "he's not responding to my texts"......well guess what?....it's probably because he could care less.
Move on sweetheart.
Someone who truly "gets" you is out there. Someone who wants to be with you every hour of the day, loves your silly moments, anxiously awaits your calls, and can't help to laugh at your terrible jokes is out there. Searching for that person is a lost cause. Your paths will cross when it's the right time.
...but until then....life goes on.
(And Yes....that was entirely a pep-talk for myself...but I figured others could relate and needed to hear it.)
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
What What.....in the butt.....
I’ve got a best “dude” friend. We’ve never smooched. We’ve never been secretly in love with each other. We’ve just been good friends. Not exciting, right? Our major bond is tied to the fact that we’re both single and have outrageous dating stories. Horrible dating stories! On occasion I feel that our dialogue is sitcom worthy.
Dude (friend): You should date Bob.
Me: He's okay. I think he might be an alcoholic though.
Dude: I think he likes you.
Me: So make it happen.
Dude: Well...he did have too much to drink the other day and asked me if I wanted to come over to his place.
Me: .....to drink?
Dude: No! That was the thing! We got all the way over to his house and he goes 'Oh I don't have any alcohol'. So what the hell were we going to his house for?!
Me: He wanted to put it in your butt.
Dude: What?!
Me: Totally wanted to put it in your butt.
Dude: I mean....I guess he has some gay tendencies from time to time.
Me: Right up the butt.
Dude: He told me to sleep on his couch.
Me: I'm surprised he didn't tell you to get in his bed.
Dude: Stop it!
Me: Well...it looks like I'm never gonna allow you to fix me up with any of your friends from now on.
Dude: What? Why?
Me: Well if you don't have the gaydar to weed out the flames, then I'm just gonna end up in the same situation that I'm always in! You know the gays love me!
Dude: I guess you're right.
Me: I am. I'm always right. I'm Italian.
Dude: I hate you.
Me: I love you.
Dude: I love you too.
Me: I know.
Dude (friend): You should date Bob.
Me: He's okay. I think he might be an alcoholic though.
Dude: I think he likes you.
Me: So make it happen.
Dude: Well...he did have too much to drink the other day and asked me if I wanted to come over to his place.
Me: .....to drink?
Dude: No! That was the thing! We got all the way over to his house and he goes 'Oh I don't have any alcohol'. So what the hell were we going to his house for?!
Me: He wanted to put it in your butt.
Dude: What?!
Me: Totally wanted to put it in your butt.
Dude: I mean....I guess he has some gay tendencies from time to time.
Me: Right up the butt.
Dude: He told me to sleep on his couch.
Me: I'm surprised he didn't tell you to get in his bed.
Dude: Stop it!
Me: Well...it looks like I'm never gonna allow you to fix me up with any of your friends from now on.
Dude: What? Why?
Me: Well if you don't have the gaydar to weed out the flames, then I'm just gonna end up in the same situation that I'm always in! You know the gays love me!
Dude: I guess you're right.
Me: I am. I'm always right. I'm Italian.
Dude: I hate you.
Me: I love you.
Dude: I love you too.
Me: I know.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
it's my public service?
The boys I like, don't know how to dress themselves. The guys who can dress themselves, ultimately, I don't end up wanting to date. I'm not sure what one has to do with the other. Maybe it's that I gravitate towards dudes who work in IT?
Regardless, in every relationship I've ever had, I've taught the man how to dress well enough that the next lady he dates thinks he's stylish. Lucky them.
I should really just stop caring but how can I when they're leaving the house in blue button-up shirts, black docker style pants, and maroon striped sweaters that appear to be JCPenney circa 1998? The current boy, he has one nice shirt and one nice pair of jeans. It's a start I guess.
The cycle continues.
Regardless, in every relationship I've ever had, I've taught the man how to dress well enough that the next lady he dates thinks he's stylish. Lucky them.
I should really just stop caring but how can I when they're leaving the house in blue button-up shirts, black docker style pants, and maroon striped sweaters that appear to be JCPenney circa 1998? The current boy, he has one nice shirt and one nice pair of jeans. It's a start I guess.
The cycle continues.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
just walk away, now
A collaborative piece on "the signs."
We feel that there are some major warning signs on the road to love that must be taken into consideration before proceeding. Some seem completely obvious, yet we ignore them repeatedly and then there's the kind that go unnoticed until it's too late.
Everyone wants someone to snuggle. We long for that person who "gets it" to stroll into our lives. For some of us this search continues but after dating for a while we start to noticed trends, warning signs and small but glaring details that 'this probably isn't going to work out'.
High signs, red flags, flashing lights, call them what you will.
Between the two of us, we have quite a list (no particular order).
· Apparent/obvious baggage, often with conscious verbal cues
· Sex gets worse, not better
· Doesn't call when he says he will
· Doesn't answer phone calls
· Replies to texts or emails hours or days later
· Is all too willing to have unprotected sex
· Has never been in a long relationship (long = minimum 1 year)
· Last relationship was a ridiculously long time ago (ie. 8 years ago)
· Only contacts you after 11pm, on weekdays
· Only contacts you while intoxicated
· Is often intoxicated after 11pm on weekdays
· Makes plans with you in advance and then blows them off
· Maintains dreams of recording an album
· Refers to himself as a musician
· If he has a library of records, you know what he spends his money on
· Owns more shoes than you do
· Has strong opinions about his poorly decorated living room
· Most or all of his current downloads have names like 'cum guzzling sluts #76' or even worse they're named, 'mom and daughter gang bang'
He says things like:
· "why would you want to know how much money you spend?"
· "I don't need to save for retirement, I'm going to die before I'm 60"
· "I'm not a goal kind of guy, I like to live day to day"
· "You're going to buy that dress, don't you think it'll be a little tight?"
· Still, as an adult, he doesn't eat vegetables
· Doesn’t have hobbies
· Doesn’t have friends
· Doesn’t have a web-based email account
· Spends most of his paycheck on booze
· Rides his bike because he has a couple DUIs
· Only takes advice from his mother
· Bible banger
· Enjoys playing Dungeons and Dragons more than 5 times a year
· Asks you to join his Vampire LARP group
· Salesmen aka. the smoooooove talker
· Bike messenger (sure, they've got the gruff, sexy thing going but they're nothing but trouble)
· He mentions his "girlfriend" and then proceeds to give you his number
We feel that there are some major warning signs on the road to love that must be taken into consideration before proceeding. Some seem completely obvious, yet we ignore them repeatedly and then there's the kind that go unnoticed until it's too late.
Everyone wants someone to snuggle. We long for that person who "gets it" to stroll into our lives. For some of us this search continues but after dating for a while we start to noticed trends, warning signs and small but glaring details that 'this probably isn't going to work out'.
High signs, red flags, flashing lights, call them what you will.
Between the two of us, we have quite a list (no particular order).
· Apparent/obvious baggage, often with conscious verbal cues
· Sex gets worse, not better
· Doesn't call when he says he will
· Doesn't answer phone calls
· Replies to texts or emails hours or days later
· Is all too willing to have unprotected sex
· Has never been in a long relationship (long = minimum 1 year)
· Last relationship was a ridiculously long time ago (ie. 8 years ago)
· Only contacts you after 11pm, on weekdays
· Only contacts you while intoxicated
· Is often intoxicated after 11pm on weekdays
· Makes plans with you in advance and then blows them off
· Maintains dreams of recording an album
· Refers to himself as a musician
· If he has a library of records, you know what he spends his money on
· Owns more shoes than you do
· Has strong opinions about his poorly decorated living room
· Most or all of his current downloads have names like 'cum guzzling sluts #76' or even worse they're named, 'mom and daughter gang bang'
He says things like:
· "why would you want to know how much money you spend?"
· "I don't need to save for retirement, I'm going to die before I'm 60"
· "I'm not a goal kind of guy, I like to live day to day"
· "You're going to buy that dress, don't you think it'll be a little tight?"
· Still, as an adult, he doesn't eat vegetables
· Doesn’t have hobbies
· Doesn’t have friends
· Doesn’t have a web-based email account
· Spends most of his paycheck on booze
· Rides his bike because he has a couple DUIs
· Only takes advice from his mother
· Bible banger
· Enjoys playing Dungeons and Dragons more than 5 times a year
· Asks you to join his Vampire LARP group
· Salesmen aka. the smoooooove talker
· Bike messenger (sure, they've got the gruff, sexy thing going but they're nothing but trouble)
· He mentions his "girlfriend" and then proceeds to give you his number
Monday, April 19, 2010
Job Post
I'm attempting to make a profitable career out of my talented skill of making almost every guy I ever meet turn, instantly, into an asshole. If you know anyone who may be in need of my assistance, please forward me their contact info. Student discounts are available.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
So true....
I couldn't agree more. This reminds me of how I truly believe that you don't need a gym membership to stay in shape. You just need to have lots and lots of sex. Better yet, you could get a gym membership with the sole purpose of screwing everyone who attends that gym. More bang for your buck! ......ZING!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
i'm not a dreamer-poet and he'd make a shitty lumberjack
We make love like we're devoted.
We fuck like we're going to die, tomorrow.
We sleep, contented.
I hold him close most of the night.
My fingers tangled in his curls, eyelashes brushing his chest
His breath warm, heartbeat comforting
We're so wrong and it feels so right.
I'm absolutely in lust.
We fuck like we're going to die, tomorrow.
We sleep, contented.
I hold him close most of the night.
My fingers tangled in his curls, eyelashes brushing his chest
His breath warm, heartbeat comforting
We're so wrong and it feels so right.
I'm absolutely in lust.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Sexual prime is a myth, right?
How is it possible that there's an age range at which you are the most sexual? I'd like to believe true intimacy plays a large role in really wonderful sex.
It's not to say that you don't come across the occasional person whom you instantly click with. Intense hours spent rolling between the sheets, covered in sweat and awesome without really knowing much about each other, or caring to for that matter.
I'm not sure how relevant this topic is to a dating blog however this lady is rabid and insatiable. Seriously, I want it everyday, three or four times please. And frankly, let's make it kinky gentlemen, I rarely cum on my back.
There's no one in the picture right now that can satiate, so I guess it's just me and the njoy wand. Thank god for that $95 piece of stainless steel, 30-seconds-to-squirt, glory.
sigh.
It's not to say that you don't come across the occasional person whom you instantly click with. Intense hours spent rolling between the sheets, covered in sweat and awesome without really knowing much about each other, or caring to for that matter.
I'm not sure how relevant this topic is to a dating blog however this lady is rabid and insatiable. Seriously, I want it everyday, three or four times please. And frankly, let's make it kinky gentlemen, I rarely cum on my back.
There's no one in the picture right now that can satiate, so I guess it's just me and the njoy wand. Thank god for that $95 piece of stainless steel, 30-seconds-to-squirt, glory.
sigh.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
The Question
The Answer: No. No...you're never too old to be a hussy.
My grandmother is pushing eighty and still manages to get numbers from guys who want to take her out on hot dates. She claims that she never follows through with such offers, but I think she may secretly be running an escort service on the side. You never know.
Friday, April 9, 2010
My Art Collection
I met this dude way back when and we've had splendid times together. I've never been a fan of dudes who send naked pictures but this one was persistent about it. I didn't argue. I pretended to hate it.
His sexting came at all hours of the day. He would comment about how he just couldn't get rid of his erection while at work. It had a lot to do with him placing the heater a bit too close to his crotch, but there was no reasoning with him.
It's now come to a point where I could honestly open an art gallery solely devoted to his cock pictures. When I mentioned that I was planning on doing so, he agreed that it was necessary. He felt that more people should be aware of his penis.
So...in dedication to this week being semi-boring and far too long....I hereby declare this 'Penis Awareness Week'.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
the day i fucked a tripod
FROM DEEP IN THE ARCHIVES
I'd seen him around the bar a number of times, occasionally we'd chat. One hot and humid evening I was low on cash and feeling voracious, he started buying me drinks.
Back at his house, we're kissing heavily and peeling clothing.
I pull off my shirt, he drops his pants to the floor.
The man had a prosthetic leg.
I say nothing and just lay there - shocked, naked and staring. The look on his face said, "Say something. Say anything," but I wasn't there to talk nor did he offer a warning. Quietly my thoughts raced by (eg.'he walks pretty normally with that thing... I wonder how much it cost him?").
A short while later I had almost forgotten about robo-leg when suddenly he stopped, leaned over and started messing with it.
He took the fucking leg off and says,
"I get better leverage with the stump."
OMFG.
He wasn't lying, that stump could create some angles. However at that point, all I could think about was the story Good Country People by Flannery O'Connor. I so badly wanted to grab that crazy contraption, shove it in my suitcase full of bibles, and run.
I'd seen him around the bar a number of times, occasionally we'd chat. One hot and humid evening I was low on cash and feeling voracious, he started buying me drinks.
Back at his house, we're kissing heavily and peeling clothing.
I pull off my shirt, he drops his pants to the floor.
The man had a prosthetic leg.
I say nothing and just lay there - shocked, naked and staring. The look on his face said, "Say something. Say anything," but I wasn't there to talk nor did he offer a warning. Quietly my thoughts raced by (eg.'he walks pretty normally with that thing... I wonder how much it cost him?").
A short while later I had almost forgotten about robo-leg when suddenly he stopped, leaned over and started messing with it.
He took the fucking leg off and says,
"I get better leverage with the stump."
OMFG.
He wasn't lying, that stump could create some angles. However at that point, all I could think about was the story Good Country People by Flannery O'Connor. I so badly wanted to grab that crazy contraption, shove it in my suitcase full of bibles, and run.
The Story of My Life
I'm the first person that people see upon entering the building of my job. I'm fine with that. I'm kind of a social butterfly, so getting paid to talk is pretty swell.
There are shitty days. Take, for example, Valentines Day. Sitting at the desk where flowers are continually being delivered to every else in the building, aside from myself, is enough to make me want to baby shake someone.
I refrain from doing so.
...you're welcome.
Some days are lovely. The past few weeks I've been encountering this really adorable Jimmy Johns delivery dude. He delivers food and we get to chatting for a bit. It got to the point where I would call to order a sandwich and he would know it was me.
He said he recognized my laugh. He knew me by name. If that's not a crush, I don't know what is!
I proceed to comment about him to everyone I know. I finally grew a pair and asked his name. It was at this point where I had made up my mind that I was going to post a 'missed connection' about him. This was mainly because I thought it would be funny. I wasn't intending for him to respond. In fact, I was terrified that he might actually do so. The post went something like this:
"Ohhhhhh Mr. Jimmy Johns Delivery Dude.....
Let me count the ways.....
I'm almost positive that you're aware of the fact that I quickly apply makeup prior to your arrival on a daily basis.
You always deliver food and then hang out for a bit to chit chat with me.
It's adorable.
...I think it's high time you ask for my hand in marriage...I mean...ask me out for a drink...I mean...just continue to bring me sandwiches."
I don't think that he ever read it, but sure enough, he was back the next day to deliver another sandwich to someone in the building. As we waited on the person to come pay for their meal we began chatting. He commented on my 6am, half asleep, haircut that I had given myself that morning. We had a fun conversation about our pets. Then he dropped the bomb. He mentioned the word "girlfriend".
Well...that ends that. Why was he even flirting with me if he had a girlfriend?
Assuming we were done speaking, I proceeded to help a new visitor. I was still at work, after all. He began scribbling something on a piece of paper. He handed it to me. It read:
Call me if you want to "chill"
His phone number followed.
REALLY?!?!?!
Who tells someone that they're dating someone else and then turns around and hands another person their phone number?! Wait! What is "chill" suppose to mean?! He's looking for a good time....clearly.
It was in this one simple act that my Jimmy Johns boyfriend was no more. He was a Jimmy Johns Asshole. He was just like dozens of dudes I've met in the past.
I had such high hopes for this guy....but no...he done me wrong. If only his girlfriend were aware of what a jerk-faced d-bag her boyfriend truly is.
What's truly awful is that this is common. This is normal. This....is terribly sad.
There are shitty days. Take, for example, Valentines Day. Sitting at the desk where flowers are continually being delivered to every else in the building, aside from myself, is enough to make me want to baby shake someone.
I refrain from doing so.
...you're welcome.
Some days are lovely. The past few weeks I've been encountering this really adorable Jimmy Johns delivery dude. He delivers food and we get to chatting for a bit. It got to the point where I would call to order a sandwich and he would know it was me.
He said he recognized my laugh. He knew me by name. If that's not a crush, I don't know what is!
I proceed to comment about him to everyone I know. I finally grew a pair and asked his name. It was at this point where I had made up my mind that I was going to post a 'missed connection' about him. This was mainly because I thought it would be funny. I wasn't intending for him to respond. In fact, I was terrified that he might actually do so. The post went something like this:
"Ohhhhhh Mr. Jimmy Johns Delivery Dude.....
Let me count the ways.....
I'm almost positive that you're aware of the fact that I quickly apply makeup prior to your arrival on a daily basis.
You always deliver food and then hang out for a bit to chit chat with me.
It's adorable.
...I think it's high time you ask for my hand in marriage...I mean...ask me out for a drink...I mean...just continue to bring me sandwiches."
I don't think that he ever read it, but sure enough, he was back the next day to deliver another sandwich to someone in the building. As we waited on the person to come pay for their meal we began chatting. He commented on my 6am, half asleep, haircut that I had given myself that morning. We had a fun conversation about our pets. Then he dropped the bomb. He mentioned the word "girlfriend".
Well...that ends that. Why was he even flirting with me if he had a girlfriend?
Assuming we were done speaking, I proceeded to help a new visitor. I was still at work, after all. He began scribbling something on a piece of paper. He handed it to me. It read:
Call me if you want to "chill"
His phone number followed.
REALLY?!?!?!
Who tells someone that they're dating someone else and then turns around and hands another person their phone number?! Wait! What is "chill" suppose to mean?! He's looking for a good time....clearly.
It was in this one simple act that my Jimmy Johns boyfriend was no more. He was a Jimmy Johns Asshole. He was just like dozens of dudes I've met in the past.
I had such high hopes for this guy....but no...he done me wrong. If only his girlfriend were aware of what a jerk-faced d-bag her boyfriend truly is.
What's truly awful is that this is common. This is normal. This....is terribly sad.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
My Ticket to Hell
I was on my way home from work, when I noticed two guys walking towards me. Not just any guys. Priests. Dressed in their long flowing attire.
I was a catholic school girl for the majority of my childhood and the sight of priests wearing silly dresses still makes me laugh a little.
My initial thought was, "Hide the children".
Then as they inched closer, I noticed that one of them was hot. I mean really hot.
As he passed me, he nodded and smiled; I couldn't even look him in the eyes.
I was so ashamed of the fact that I was suddenly envisioning him completely naked.
I watched him walk down the block and I secretly plotted to bring more corruption to the catholic church by considering going to "confession" this Sunday. It's Easter after all.
I was a catholic school girl for the majority of my childhood and the sight of priests wearing silly dresses still makes me laugh a little.
My initial thought was, "Hide the children".
Then as they inched closer, I noticed that one of them was hot. I mean really hot.
As he passed me, he nodded and smiled; I couldn't even look him in the eyes.
I was so ashamed of the fact that I was suddenly envisioning him completely naked.
I watched him walk down the block and I secretly plotted to bring more corruption to the catholic church by considering going to "confession" this Sunday. It's Easter after all.
Really?!
The dude who had the nerve to plan a date a week in advance and then cancel by texting me " Hey I made other dinner plans with someone else. Let's hang out on another day", just walked into my place of business.
It's normal for him to be there, however I felt as though I should have promptly punched him in the face. I didn't....but I should have.
Then... he decided to text me once he was elsewhere within the building. A flirty text!
Oh no sir. This girl is done flirting with you.
...it's been swell.
It's normal for him to be there, however I felt as though I should have promptly punched him in the face. I didn't....but I should have.
Then... he decided to text me once he was elsewhere within the building. A flirty text!
Oh no sir. This girl is done flirting with you.
...it's been swell.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
rubber maid wanted
BOY: "hey by the way, that used condom on the floor, it wasn't mine ... classy touch."
ME: "I am a classy lady"
FML
ME: "I am a classy lady"
FML
Monday, March 29, 2010
Well, I Never!
This week in the dating world….
I’ve been stood up twice.
You heard me... TWICE!
Sonofabitchslutbagwhores (and various other obscenities)
...that is all.
I’ve been stood up twice.
You heard me... TWICE!
Sonofabitchslutbagwhores (and various other obscenities)
...that is all.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
the pacific strikes again
We talked business development and content, distribution chains and overseas vendors, five year plans and dreams of urban gardens, fish farming, sustainability, and a dash of BDSM.
Dinner and a beer went without awkwardness, then a venue change.
Belgians flowed side-by side with big, hoppy, California pine forests. Suddenly there we were, feeling alone in a room full of people, quietly sharing starry eyed gazes. Subtle touches to the knees, elbows and hands turned into hot makeouts against an unsuspecting fence, a sweet walk home and yet another attempt to watch a war flick I downloaded.
Two sessions in a row of first-date-sex with heavy artillery as the soundtrack. sigh.
I have a hunch the problem must be an obvious fact, my living room is also my bedroom. It's tough not to end up naked when your couch is your bed. I should start going home with potentials instead. I'm great at leaving unannounced; it's a talent I should revisit.
Dinner and a beer went without awkwardness, then a venue change.
Belgians flowed side-by side with big, hoppy, California pine forests. Suddenly there we were, feeling alone in a room full of people, quietly sharing starry eyed gazes. Subtle touches to the knees, elbows and hands turned into hot makeouts against an unsuspecting fence, a sweet walk home and yet another attempt to watch a war flick I downloaded.
Two sessions in a row of first-date-sex with heavy artillery as the soundtrack. sigh.
I have a hunch the problem must be an obvious fact, my living room is also my bedroom. It's tough not to end up naked when your couch is your bed. I should start going home with potentials instead. I'm great at leaving unannounced; it's a talent I should revisit.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Stop, Drop, and Roll
So this doesn't involve a hot date however it does involve me trying too hard to impress some dumb boy...so it's going to be told.
A few years back I was having everyone over for my birthday. I found this 1950’s wedding dress and totally “Betsy’s Wedding-ed” the shit out of it...so I was lookin’ good...real good. I bedazzled the apartment and lit a few tea-lights; the place was looking hot to trot. Guests start arriving (including the dude I was trying to seduce) and we were all havin' a swell time. The party's in full force and everyone’s slightly intoxicated. I’m in the middle of what seems to be the funniest story I’ve EVER told and then...
(Sniffs Sniff Sniff) "Do you....do ya smell something? I think I smell something burning!"
Low and behold it turns out to be my ass that has caught a-blaze! I had successfully "backed that thing up" into the flaming candles.
I begin running around the house screaming “I’m on FIRE!!!!” while the rest of the party began yelling “Stop, drop, and roll!!!!”
Do I?.....of course not....Why?....I choose comedy over life; it was much funnier to run around my house shouting, “My biscuits are burning! My biscuits are burning!”
Then out of nowhere I feel this force like no other throw me to the floor! This force turns out to be the foot of my roommate.
Thank God for him.
He kicked my ass. He kicked my ass until the fire was no more.
Without him I would have been just another victim of a candle lit birthday gone horribly wrong. My life could have possibly even ended on that birthday but I was not going down without a laugh.
In the end, I totally smooched the boy I was after. My 1950's dress was smelling like burnt plastic for the rest of the evening and my ruffle butt undies proudly made a guest appearance for all to see.
Funny enough...this was only one of the four times I've accidentally set myself on fire.
A few years back I was having everyone over for my birthday. I found this 1950’s wedding dress and totally “Betsy’s Wedding-ed” the shit out of it...so I was lookin’ good...real good. I bedazzled the apartment and lit a few tea-lights; the place was looking hot to trot. Guests start arriving (including the dude I was trying to seduce) and we were all havin' a swell time. The party's in full force and everyone’s slightly intoxicated. I’m in the middle of what seems to be the funniest story I’ve EVER told and then...
(Sniffs Sniff Sniff) "Do you....do ya smell something? I think I smell something burning!"
Low and behold it turns out to be my ass that has caught a-blaze! I had successfully "backed that thing up" into the flaming candles.
I begin running around the house screaming “I’m on FIRE!!!!” while the rest of the party began yelling “Stop, drop, and roll!!!!”
Do I?.....of course not....Why?....I choose comedy over life; it was much funnier to run around my house shouting, “My biscuits are burning! My biscuits are burning!”
Then out of nowhere I feel this force like no other throw me to the floor! This force turns out to be the foot of my roommate.
Thank God for him.
He kicked my ass. He kicked my ass until the fire was no more.
Without him I would have been just another victim of a candle lit birthday gone horribly wrong. My life could have possibly even ended on that birthday but I was not going down without a laugh.
In the end, I totally smooched the boy I was after. My 1950's dress was smelling like burnt plastic for the rest of the evening and my ruffle butt undies proudly made a guest appearance for all to see.
Funny enough...this was only one of the four times I've accidentally set myself on fire.
Estelle's: The Place Where Everyone Goes Home Happy
For those of you who live in the Chicago area, you may be familiar with a dirty, rotten, booze serving slut by the name of Estelle. Estelle temps the entire community on a nightly basis by offering inexpensive alcohol at an unreasonably late hour. She's the matchmaker of hundreds (possibly thousands) of one night stands. She is a 5am dive bar in the heart of Wicker Park.
I'm not sure if Estelle's is still doing the Tuesday night special that I grew to love anymore, but they use to have $2 beers. Now, I'm normally a southern comfort kinda girl, but a deal is a deal so I would always go out with my friends every Tuesday night, come hell or high water. We would get good and sauced. Never failed.
After months of this same routine, I began noticing how the entire bar seemed to begin making out with each other at around 4am. I thought it was hysterical so I started referring to Estelle's as "the place where everyone goes home happy".
Now don't get me wrong...I was part of that group who would occasionally be smooching face with some random dude, but it wasn't a habit of mine. However, there was one guy who always seem to show up and start a dance party. Mind you, this place is no where to have a dance party; by 2am, you can barely breath, let alone move. Regardless, I was the only one who would ever dance with him, he was super cute albeit totally bat shit crazy. I think he scared people even though I thought he was harmless.
So one night he tells me that he wants me to come home with him and I was I was all about it to have a good old fashion make out session but was hesitant about anything else. We get to his house and I give him a thrill by showing him my ruffle butt undies.
We make out like no one's ever made out before....and then he stops and says....
"I think we should do it."
Neither one of us had a condom handy and that didn't sit well with me. So I tell him that I didn't think it would be wise to do the deed.
Then...he pauses for a moment, kisses me a few more times, and whispers in my ear...
"...but I promise...I'm a good puller outer"
....classy.
I'm not sure if Estelle's is still doing the Tuesday night special that I grew to love anymore, but they use to have $2 beers. Now, I'm normally a southern comfort kinda girl, but a deal is a deal so I would always go out with my friends every Tuesday night, come hell or high water. We would get good and sauced. Never failed.
After months of this same routine, I began noticing how the entire bar seemed to begin making out with each other at around 4am. I thought it was hysterical so I started referring to Estelle's as "the place where everyone goes home happy".
Now don't get me wrong...I was part of that group who would occasionally be smooching face with some random dude, but it wasn't a habit of mine. However, there was one guy who always seem to show up and start a dance party. Mind you, this place is no where to have a dance party; by 2am, you can barely breath, let alone move. Regardless, I was the only one who would ever dance with him, he was super cute albeit totally bat shit crazy. I think he scared people even though I thought he was harmless.
So one night he tells me that he wants me to come home with him and I was I was all about it to have a good old fashion make out session but was hesitant about anything else. We get to his house and I give him a thrill by showing him my ruffle butt undies.
We make out like no one's ever made out before....and then he stops and says....
"I think we should do it."
Neither one of us had a condom handy and that didn't sit well with me. So I tell him that I didn't think it would be wise to do the deed.
Then...he pauses for a moment, kisses me a few more times, and whispers in my ear...
"...but I promise...I'm a good puller outer"
....classy.
15 points for the opposing team
Listen up guys, apparently the "if you have one spontaneous bone in your body, we'll buy each other well shaken cocktails...tonight" works. I can see this as a viable approach outside the realm of internet dating too. Try it out. Let me know how it goes.
That or I'm a just a harlot. Four drinks led to naked coffee in my kitchen this morning, a hangover and very little sleep. I don't think we found each other to be ugly when the sun came up either.
I'll probably see him again, the socially functioning philosophy PhD student who dresses like a a professor. Although, the conversation came with ease, I apparently only need the requisite beard, quirky glasses and cardigan to end up on my hands and knees.
I'm sure he's quite pleased with himself.
That or I'm a just a harlot. Four drinks led to naked coffee in my kitchen this morning, a hangover and very little sleep. I don't think we found each other to be ugly when the sun came up either.
I'll probably see him again, the socially functioning philosophy PhD student who dresses like a a professor. Although, the conversation came with ease, I apparently only need the requisite beard, quirky glasses and cardigan to end up on my hands and knees.
I'm sure he's quite pleased with himself.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
I Blame Aurora
I’m making no attempt to one up anyone’s dramatic first date stories but this one really takes the cake.
I’m sure that we’ve all gone on dates where a date shows up slightly buzzed...possibly stoned...or maybe just a little drunk
...no?
....just me?
....*sigh*...(fuck my life)
Regardless, we can all safely assume that it’s done and over from the moment they walk in the door. Right?! Right.
I was talking to a guy who was total doll-face, a sweet man with beautiful curls, an interest in the arts, love for dogs and a real way with words. Overall...an old soul, like myself. We were off to a swell start!
So he tells me that he's from Aurora, IL.If you've never been, there's no need to even consider going. Known primarily for it's obnoxiously cheesy casino, there is absolutely nothing going on there. So we plan on having a coffee date in the city and he was driving all the way in to come meet me. Lovely!
He gets to my house to pick me up and I'm waiting for him to park the car. I see him walking towards me as I'm waiting anxiously on the sidewalk, trying my best to look like I was too cool for school, when I noticed he was walking very funny. Was this man sauced already?!
He got closer to me and went to hug me. I couldn't smell alcohol, but he was certainly swaying as though he had had some type of booze....or maybe medication.
I asked him if he was taking medicine. He said no.
I asked him if he was feeling alright. He said "yes" with a completely glassed over look on his face. I could tell something was definitely wrong but I had no clue what the problem was.
Then he came out with it....
Dude: If I tell you...you won't want to be my friend anymore.
Me: Well I just met you so it wouldn't be that big of a loss, now would it?
Dude: Yeah it would.
Me: You should probably just tell me. Get it over with.
Dude: I'm a recovering heroine addict and I just relapsed prior to getting out of my car to come meet you.
Me: Seriously?
Dude: Seriously.
Me: ......(silence)........
Dude: I'm just gonna drive home. Sorry I bothered you.
Me: Oh heeeeellllllll no, you're NOT driving home. You can barely keep your eyes open! You think I'm gonna let you get on the road and kill yourself and everyone else?! You may have a fuckin' death wish, but the person driving next to you does NOT.
Dude: I'll just sit in my car for a while then.
Me: Give me your fuckin keys.
Dude: Where are we going?
Me: In my house...where you're going to drink coffee, water, and eat pasta.* You will then sit on my couch until you regain the ability to act like a responsible driver.
(moment of silence)
After a brief second of consideration...I think it's safe to say that I believe that you just topped the charts for WORST dating situation to EVER happen to me. Congratulations....asshole.
*Side note: He did drink my coffee, and tap water; I also made him pasta. After about 5 hours or dozing off in the middle of barely coherent sentences, he finally sobered up enough to leave. Prior to walking out the door he turns to me, looks me in the eyes and says, "So I guess there won't be a second date then, huh?"
.....it's been swell, dude. Now hit the road...and don't call me....ever.
I’m sure that we’ve all gone on dates where a date shows up slightly buzzed...possibly stoned...or maybe just a little drunk
...no?
....just me?
....*sigh*...(fuck my life)
Regardless, we can all safely assume that it’s done and over from the moment they walk in the door. Right?! Right.
I was talking to a guy who was total doll-face, a sweet man with beautiful curls, an interest in the arts, love for dogs and a real way with words. Overall...an old soul, like myself. We were off to a swell start!
So he tells me that he's from Aurora, IL.If you've never been, there's no need to even consider going. Known primarily for it's obnoxiously cheesy casino, there is absolutely nothing going on there. So we plan on having a coffee date in the city and he was driving all the way in to come meet me. Lovely!
He gets to my house to pick me up and I'm waiting for him to park the car. I see him walking towards me as I'm waiting anxiously on the sidewalk, trying my best to look like I was too cool for school, when I noticed he was walking very funny. Was this man sauced already?!
He got closer to me and went to hug me. I couldn't smell alcohol, but he was certainly swaying as though he had had some type of booze....or maybe medication.
I asked him if he was taking medicine. He said no.
I asked him if he was feeling alright. He said "yes" with a completely glassed over look on his face. I could tell something was definitely wrong but I had no clue what the problem was.
Then he came out with it....
Dude: If I tell you...you won't want to be my friend anymore.
Me: Well I just met you so it wouldn't be that big of a loss, now would it?
Dude: Yeah it would.
Me: You should probably just tell me. Get it over with.
Dude: I'm a recovering heroine addict and I just relapsed prior to getting out of my car to come meet you.
Me: Seriously?
Dude: Seriously.
Me: ......(silence)........
Dude: I'm just gonna drive home. Sorry I bothered you.
Me: Oh heeeeellllllll no, you're NOT driving home. You can barely keep your eyes open! You think I'm gonna let you get on the road and kill yourself and everyone else?! You may have a fuckin' death wish, but the person driving next to you does NOT.
Dude: I'll just sit in my car for a while then.
Me: Give me your fuckin keys.
Dude: Where are we going?
Me: In my house...where you're going to drink coffee, water, and eat pasta.* You will then sit on my couch until you regain the ability to act like a responsible driver.
(moment of silence)
After a brief second of consideration...I think it's safe to say that I believe that you just topped the charts for WORST dating situation to EVER happen to me. Congratulations....asshole.
*Side note: He did drink my coffee, and tap water; I also made him pasta. After about 5 hours or dozing off in the middle of barely coherent sentences, he finally sobered up enough to leave. Prior to walking out the door he turns to me, looks me in the eyes and says, "So I guess there won't be a second date then, huh?"
.....it's been swell, dude. Now hit the road...and don't call me....ever.
oh, it's on.
The Dialog takes place within the inbox of an internet dating site.
Dude:
4:27pm
subject: if you have one...
body: spontaneous bone in your body, we'll buy each other well shaken cocktails at either the whistler or the violet hour tonight.
me:
I have a whole bunch of spontaneous bones but damn I'm broke until next week. You're free to buy me drinks if you'd like. Whistler at 8. I'll drink slow. (I haven't even looked at your profile btw).
Dude:
Deal! I'll see you at 8:00
To be continued I suppose.
Dude:
4:27pm
subject: if you have one...
body: spontaneous bone in your body, we'll buy each other well shaken cocktails at either the whistler or the violet hour tonight.
me:
I have a whole bunch of spontaneous bones but damn I'm broke until next week. You're free to buy me drinks if you'd like. Whistler at 8. I'll drink slow. (I haven't even looked at your profile btw).
Dude:
Deal! I'll see you at 8:00
To be continued I suppose.
We're all in Trouble Now.
Well...you've done it. You've stumbled upon a blog of nothing but pure sass. There's no turning back now. You might as well follow us. "Us" being two of the sassiest brazen hussies this side of the Mississippi. That's right....Two.
We've dated. We've loved. Some of us have lost at one time or another.
Well...this blog is intended to tell the tale of dating horrors, joys, and sexual frustrations. I'm sure there are a plethora of other blogs created for the same purpose, however I'm willing to bet good money that they are not nearly as entertaining or as informative as this one is going to be. I don't want to debate this, I'm just saying you may need to shield the eyes of grandparents and small children. We're gonna get dirty to the point of Prince asking us to simmer down.
Now, I find it far easier to write my posts in script form. So I'm going to do just that. So just to get the ball rolling, I'm going to provide you with this little exchange that happened to me the other day.
Enjoy......
Dude: 'member that time you screamed 'John Wayne' while we were having sex?
Me: I did nothing of the sort.
Dude: You totally did.
Me: No. I screamed 'I'm gonna be walkin' like John Wayne for the next week'.
Dude: Well I only heard 'John Wayne'
Me: Awkward.
Dude: Tell me about it.
We've dated. We've loved. Some of us have lost at one time or another.
Well...this blog is intended to tell the tale of dating horrors, joys, and sexual frustrations. I'm sure there are a plethora of other blogs created for the same purpose, however I'm willing to bet good money that they are not nearly as entertaining or as informative as this one is going to be. I don't want to debate this, I'm just saying you may need to shield the eyes of grandparents and small children. We're gonna get dirty to the point of Prince asking us to simmer down.
Now, I find it far easier to write my posts in script form. So I'm going to do just that. So just to get the ball rolling, I'm going to provide you with this little exchange that happened to me the other day.
Enjoy......
Dude: 'member that time you screamed 'John Wayne' while we were having sex?
Me: I did nothing of the sort.
Dude: You totally did.
Me: No. I screamed 'I'm gonna be walkin' like John Wayne for the next week'.
Dude: Well I only heard 'John Wayne'
Me: Awkward.
Dude: Tell me about it.
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