Pre-Marital Sex: An Oxy-Mormon

•June 16, 2012 • Leave a Comment

Image

So I’m bored and I’m looking for interesting articles online about sex, dating, etc.

Found this one:

http://www.livescience.com/10935-delaying-sex-relationships-study-finds.html

Supposedly delaying sex makes one’s relationship better. Of course, in my twisted brain I’m already beating myself up, and thinking that THIS is what I’ve been doing wrong all this time! Yes, that’s it! No more pre-marital sex! No more sex on the first, or second, or third date! Finally, I have figured out why all of my relationships have been shitty – I’ve slept with the guys too soon. Major breakthrough!

Then I read further, and see that the study was supported by a grant from the Mormon church.

Hmmm.

Seems a little fishy.

Here’s my favorite part:

” ‘What seems to happen is that if couples become sexual too early, this very rewarding area of the relationship overwhelms good decision-making and keeps couples in a relationship that might not be the best for them in the long-run,’ study researcher Dean Busby, of Brigham Young University’s School of Family Life, told LiveScience.”

Ha ha! Of course he would say that! What’s the quote going to say? “What seems to happen is that if couples become too sexual too early, they end up having a really great time. It might not lead to marriage, but hey – who said marriage is the end-all, be-all anyway?” said blank blank of BYU’s School of Family Life. Like he could say that!!

I’m sure there is a happy medium somewhere between the two extremes of screw-your-heart-out and never touch a member of the opposite sex (pun intended).

With the last guy I dated, the one who talked about sex all the time and then couldn’t get it up, I was super proud of myself for not sleeping with him on the first few dates. Being the sex talker that he was, he certainly tried. And looking back on it, I do wonder if this was a red flag. I wonder if I should have been a bit disgusted that he was talking about sex so early on (I kind of was, but not enough to stop dating him), and just not seen him again. I did meet him online, after all. What did I expect?

What a dick. Wish I could have said that about his member instead of about his personality.

Chelsea Handler Saves the Day

•June 14, 2012 • Leave a Comment

So I’m watching This Means War, and it’s not as bad as I had heard.

CH is definitely the best part of it, the funniest part for sure.

There’s this part toward the beginning that sums up the ridiculousness and horror of online dating. It is a telephone conversation between Reese Witherspoon’s character and Chelsea Handler’s character. In the movie they are, improbably, best friends that seem to have absolutely nothing in common. There is never anything explained about how they know each other, why they are friends, or anything like that; basically CH just provides some comic relief. Which is fine with me. It’s a pretty damn sexist movie, really, that portrays women as horny, boring, and not very smart. In addition, there is this interesting element where one of the two male leads is a real ladies man, and the movie acts like he is so much better than his poor pathetic friend at dating simply because he’s done more of it. That always bugs me. It’s like those of us who have dated a lot are somehow masters. As if.

Got off on a tangent there.

Anyway.

So, the conversation between RW and CH happens when RW discovers that CH has posted a profile of her on a dating site called It’sFate.net. And the title of her profile is “Come and Get It, Boys!” Maybe I would have had more responses to my online profile if I posted a photo of Reese Witherspoon with the title “Come and Get It, Boys!”

So RW calls CH and is really pissed, supposedly, that her friend did this without her knowledge. Here is, more or less, how their conversation goes:

RW: Bi-curious? Are you kidding me? And me – roller blading? What is this, 1994?

CH: You look adorable in those dolphin shorts, and men are gonna respond to that camel toe.

RW: I’m gonna kill you, Trish.

CH: Uh, how about “thank you?!”

RW: My entire office thinks I clean my house in a naughty nurse costume.

CH: That’s fine, that means you’re open to role playing, okay? We’re trying to cast a very wide net here, we don’t know what kinda guys you’re gonna get.

RW: You’ve got me here in a kegstand looking for a serious relationship. I don’t even know what that means.

CH: It means you’re flexible. Guys wanna know that you’re flexible, and that you’re good at gymnastics.

Thank you, Chelsea Handler, for making me laugh my ass off.

And at  least now I know how to create a good online profile in case I ever decide to subject myself to that lunacy again.

On second thought, I’d rather go read 50 Shades of Gray again instead.

50 Shades of Crap

•June 14, 2012 • Leave a Comment

I know, everyone is talking, blogging, and writing about this piece of crap book. I figured I should jump on the bandwagon. Better late than never.

If you haven’t read it, you should – but just the first page. The writing is so bad, in my humble opinion, that it is pretty unreadable. You will laugh so hard that you won’t be able to hold your Kindle straight enough to keep reading anyway.

My mom told me that she put this book on her queue at the library. I guess I must have looked at her strangely, because she got all defensive. “What?? Everyone else is reading it and talking about it!”

So I did what any loving daughter would do. I went and got my Kindle, where, sadly, I do have the first book…and maybe even the second one too…and I gave it to her. “Start reading,” I said.

I came back a few minutes later. She had this pained look on her face. She was still reading though. She asked me if she could keep it for a while. Yikes.

She came and gave me my Kindle back soon after. “You’re right,” she said, “The writing is awful.” She proceeded to read me some choice lines from the first chapter that she highlighted because they were so bad. I think one was something like, “Gosh, my hair was just so frizzy. Why did that always happen?”

Anyway, I just found this article. I find it disturbing on many levels, not least of which that anyone would think you can learn anything from this book besides how to put one over on the idiotic American public (specifically women, sadly…how embarrassing…and I include myself in that category).

http://www.getfrank.co.nz/dating-romance-relationships/sex/what-can-you-learn-from-50-shades-of-grey

Ugh. Get some taste, people! No pun intended.

The bitch is back

•June 13, 2012 • 1 Comment

Hello friends…I had forgotten about this blog, honestly, until some spammer tried to put a weird comment on one of my posts and I got an email about it.

I was just reading over my previous posts and I realized I was right about one thing: guys with big noses and huge feet do have big…thingies. I am speaking from experience now, not just from speculation. 

Since it worked so well for me to wish, in my blog post, to meet a guy with a big nose and big feet, I’m going to take another leap here and wish for a nice guy with a big nose and big feet. Hey, no one ever said you can’t have it all. Oh wait. Yes they did. 

It is kind of sad for me to look back at this blog and realize that in over 2 years very little has changed in my romantic life. I’m still single, still looking, still have bad taste, and still go out with guys that aren’t really good enough.

Ooh, I realized I have more true-life experience that proves one of my theories right.

I went out with a guy for about a month; I thought at first that he might be a somewhat good catch, but he wasn’t. Interestingly, he talked a lot about sex, and about other women from his past. I kind of assumed he’d be good in bed, since he talked about it so much. I should have remembered my theory about that, but I didn’t.

Not only was he not good in bed, but…wait for it…

He couldn’t get it up.

So, there you go. I can now say definitively that guys that talk a lot about sex are bad at it. Not only are they bad at it, but they might be unable to have it altogether. I think he talked about it a lot because he was horny and wished he could have it, not because he was good at it. What a disappointment.

What theories have you had about men and sex that turned out to be right? What theories have you had about men and sex that turned out to be wrong?

Enlighten me.

Just call me karma, babe. And karma is a bitch.

•April 30, 2010 • Leave a Comment

I used to believe in karma. Until it started to come back to bite me in the ass. Now, I’m not so sure. Is it karma, or just the way people are, the way things are?

There were so many men that I screwed and then screwed over. No, that’s not completely true. But it sounds good.

I haven’t slept with that many men that I then screwed over. But what has happened is that, along the way, I have been a bitch. To many men (and women, for that matter). And now I’m wondering if it’s catching up to me.

There were many guys who I gave my phone number to who then called me. And I never called them back. This was mostly in my younger years, but still. There’s no excuse. There were some guys who called me many, many times and left me numerous messages, pleading with me to call them back…and I didn’t. And I really didn’t care.

I remember being like that. I remember being pursued, and not really caring. And now, it’s like the tables have turned. I’m being the opposite of pursued – I’m being dropped like a hot potato. And I have to wonder why. It must be something I’m doing, or saying…or the types of guys I’m attracting…or it’s karma. But I’m telling you, I’m not sure I believe in karma anymore. I’m afraid that’s just a convenient excuse or euphemism for “really bad luck” or “choosing really shitty guys who don’t care about me at all.”

I wrote in a previous post about being dumped/duped a lot recently. And I have to say that this is not normal for me. At least not so many times, in such a similar way, all within the space of a few months. Basically since the start of 2010. So I’ve had shitty luck with (shitty) men for the last four months…no wonder I’m cynical. It feels like a lot longer.

Here’s what happens. I meet someone (mostly online, on an online dating site). We go out, once. Then we go out again, because he’s okay, seems nice, and he paid for dinner. Great. And then…nothing. He says something vague at the end of the second date about getting together again, or, maybe he says nothing at all about it. It doesn’t really occur to me, because we had a good second date, so it just seems logical that of course I’ll hear from him again.

And then…I don’t hear from him again. Ever.

This happened to me once. And then, right after that, it happened to me again – with brentwood hello. That was even more odd, at least to me, because we went out at least five times before he stopped calling me.

I also have another guy that I’m kind of seeing, I suppose, someone who I recently reconnected with again after a long time…and our karmic curse is phone tag. He calls me, I miss his call. I call him back five minutes later, he doesn’t pick up. One night we went back and forth endless times until I finally flushed my phone down the toilet. I’m kidding. But we did go back and forth endless times until I finally gave up. Strange.

It was also weird how this all started: with my boyfriend of almost two years breaking up with me, quite abruptly, the day that I returned from a month-long work trip abroad. He literally picked me up at the airport, drove me home, and broke up with me. And let me tell you, this guy was not a guy that should have dumped me, at least not logically. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but he’ll never again be with a woman of my caliber. That’s for sure. I know that sounds egotistical, but it’s true.

So what the hell is going on?

Like I said, just call me karma, babe. And karma, apparently, is a real bitch.

Either that, or I am…

Nice truck, sorry about your penis

•April 30, 2010 • Leave a Comment

I found this the other day, supposedly it’s a bumper sticker that was spotted on someone’s bumper (duh).

“Nice truck, sorry about your penis.”

It’s funny, but sadly true.

Girls, isn’t it kind of a known fact that men with small johnsons always seem like they’re trying to overcompensate? Can’t you just tell that they have small penises? By the way, I just looked up “penis” to find out what the plural form is. And, apparently, it could be either “penises” or “penes.” Penes? WTF? There’s also a kind of creepy photo, on Wikipedia, of a weenie. Weird. Check it out:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Penis

And men with big ones act…well, they act pretty fucking confident, really.

I have a theory. My theory is that you can guess, pretty accurately, a man’s penis size by his amount of charisma/confidence. And I have some experience that proves my theory to be correct. Not saying that this is a scientific theory, or a surprising one. But it’s mine.

Part of my theory includes talking about sex, and talking about it a lot. Men with big ones seem to love to talk about sex, while men with small ones don’t seem to enjoy this as much. Why? I don’t know. Maybe because men with small wieners don’t like to be reminded of this fact – which is what sex talk does, reminds them that they’re tiny. Whereas men with big wieners love to be reminded of the fact that they are well endowed.

Also, any man with a really big, lifted truck, with big mud tires on it? Small wiener. Any man wearing an Ed Hardy shirt? Small wiener. Any man who likes to whip out a money clip with a wad of cash in it, all the time? Small wiener. You get my drift.

Now we come to the real question: how much of a difference does size truly make during sex (for a woman, I mean)?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot, ever since I read this post back in March by Mike the Master Dater (whoever he is): http://www.mikethemasterdater.com/2010/03/31/big-noses-long-hoses-–-how-to-spot-a-keeper/

The comments on that post are pretty hilarious.

Basically, it seems like (big surprise) there’s no real consensus. Everyone has their own opinion about this topic, as they should. Personally, I’d just be happy with a penis. Any penis, at this point.

The penis size…whatever. But the confidence size…now that’s a different story. I much prefer a man with confidence than a wuss bag (that’s a term I learned from brentwood hello. Funny, no?). I always dated wuss bags in the past, but no more. They’re so damn boring, and really not what I’m looking for at all. So, I guess I need to look for a guy with long fingers, a big nose, and huge feet. That guy will have confidence up the ying-yang. Shouldn’t be too hard to spot.

Déjà vu…all over again

•April 29, 2010 • Leave a Comment

I know, that’s redundant.

But it’s one way I can make my point.

I have been watching my normal tv shows this week, trying to get caught up with everything I have recorded. And the weirdest thing keeps happening. I keep watching a show, then I’ll watch another one…and the same actor is on both shows (in a different role, obviously). It’s really uncanny. Let me give you some examples:

1. I was watching Season 1 of Sex and the City, which my cable company graciously lets me watch whenever I want (on demand) for free. So cool. So anyway, I was watching one of the episodes (The Turtle and the Hare), and one of the actors looked familiar. I couldn’t remember why. And then, right after that, I watched last week’s episode of Fringe, and I realized: it was the same actor playing Newton (the man from the other side). Weird, especially since Season 1 of SATC was filmed in like 1998…what are the odds?! Here’s the actor I’m talking about, in case you care:

Okay, next déjà vu television moment:

2. Last night I was watching Glee (yes, I know it was on the night before. I happen to be one of those people who can wait for a few hours before watching the newest episode of a show. Call me crazy). And the guy playing Kurt’s dad looked familiar. And then I watched Parenthood, and guess what? Same actor! Different role! He was playing some guy who Sarah knew from high school. Here’s that actor, too, in case you care about him:

He’s the one on the right, the one who is not Christian Slater. I see now that he’s been on many shows before, which is great and all. But it was pretty weird that he was in one show I watched, and then in the very next one I watched too. Seems to be happening more and more…and it’s not like when you watch a show, and you’re like, oh, that’s the actor from Lost, and now he’s on Vampire Diaries. It’s like right after I watch one show, I see the same actor on the next show I watch. So strange. Or at least it seems strange to me. Kinda.

And there’s a third example, too, but I can’t remember it right now. I’m going to have to think about it, and if I remember, I’ll add it in here.

What does this have to do with dating, or being cynical? Nothing, really. I’m sure I could try to make some lofty connections, like that all men start to look the same after awhile…or some crap like that. But it’s not really true, so I won’t push it.

Since I’m here, I might as well share something else with you all. It’s something that made me laugh for about five minutes when I first heard/saw it. It took place during this week’s episode of Glee, and it was damn funny. It was said by Kristin Chenoweth’s character, April. Here she is:

She said it to Will. I really wish someone had said this to me when I was getting divorced. It would have made my year. It went a little something like this:

Will: I’m getting a divorce.

April: Divorce!!! So you’re free to date??? And by date, I mean sleep with people. And by sleep with people, I mean have sex with people. Kidding. Not really…tell you what. I’m going to go get myself a bikini wax, and I’m going to see you tomorrow.

That is hilarious. I would have loved to hear all of that, except maybe the bikini wax part. I love the way she explains what “date” and “sleep with people” mean. If only everyone were so obvious and honest! She’s like: here’s what I want from you, and I’m gonna put it all on the table, and then you can do what you want with it. And his reaction is so funny, he’s like stunned…what a prude.

Well, that’s all I’ve got for now. See ya.

Daddy Complex

•April 27, 2010 • Leave a Comment

All right, all you prudes out there, don’t get your panties in a bunch. I don’t have a daddy complex (meaning I want to have sex with guys that remind me of my dad). But I was thinking about dads tonight.

I was watching yesterday’s episode of Gossip Girl, which I had recorded on my DVR. Thank goodness for DVR. Anyway, in the episode, Serena has reunited with her biological father after like 14 years or something. And she has this really fabulous stepdad (who’s really hot, by the way, he’s the whole reason I started watching the show in the first place…I love you, Rufus!), but she is much more interested in her father, and kind of takes his side against her stepdad at one point in the show.

Even though he hasn’t been around for the last 14 years, it’s pretty obvious that Serena will choose her dad over Rufus any day. Why? What is it about our “biological” fathers that they have such a hold over us? By us, I mean all of us – whether you’re a child of divorce, as I am, or not. But it becomes especially obvious when you are a child of divorce, and you have a wonderful stepdad, as I do.

A somewhat similar set of events happened on another teeny-bopper show that I watch, called Life Unexpected. Not really the same, I guess, but there is the common thread of the biological dad versus the mom’s boyfriend. That’s a bit more complicated, with the whole teenage pregnancy/giving the kid up for adoption thing. But the same basic idea: Lux always wanted to find her “real” parents. And you can bet a bunch of money that she’d pick Baze over Ryan any day. As would I. Baze is f-king HOT.

Two of my sisters got married recently (not to the same man, nor on the same day, but they did get married a few months apart, kind of). My stepdad told me later that he had a really hard time with the way everyone apparently treated my father, as if he were some kind of fantastic guy…when really it was my stepdad who raised us, who taught us how to drive, who helped us when we had boy trouble, girl trouble, whatever…

It’s funny, you know. It’s very complicated, why women love who they love. Many times, there’s just no explanation. I don’t personally know who I would choose in a fight between my father and my stepdad. I love them both very much, even though my dad was kind of a shit, and my stepdad has never done anything to hurt any of us and I’m sure never would. It’s funny, the hold that a biological parent can have on us.

And it affects who we choose as mates in our lives, who we are attracted to, and why – I’m convinced of it. I used to say that I was fucked up about men because my dad left when I was seven. I don’t know anymore if this is true. Blood is thicker than marriage, as they say, so watch where you stick your you-know-whats, boys, because making a baby with someone is not as simple as it may seem. It may be easy, but it’s not simple. That kid will look to you for guidance, and if you’re not around, he or (especially) she will look for you until they find you. That’s how important you are to them. So don’t fuck it up.

Prime Dupage

•April 26, 2010 • Leave a Comment

I found this article online today, when I was bored at work. The title is “Could you be duped into dating a married man like Jesse James duped Michelle Bombshell McGee?” #mce_temp_url# I swear, that’s the actual title of the article. I guess you can tell by the title that this is one quality article, with some bomb ass writing. Not.

I read it anyway, because it had the word “dupe” in it, which is a word I personally used in my last blog post. What a coincidence! I think it was the universe trying to tell me something. So I read the article.

I’m sure I could be duped into dating just about anyone. And that’s the truth. Sometimes I get so lonely and so incredibly desperate, that I would be willing to go out with the next guy who asks me. And usually, I do. Ugh. It’s all so annoying. Should I “settle?” Should I hold out for that one, “special” guy? Special, my ass. Special ed, more like it.

The last guy that I dated, the brentwood hello guy, seemed to make it a point not to tell me much about himself. In fact, he didn’t have a picture of himself up on his online dating profile. In the article, she says that this information withholding is usually a sign that a guy is trying to put one over on you. Yeah, he’s trying to put himself over on you. Literally and figuratively.

This is kind of embarrassing, but I went out with this guy at least five times, and I never knew his last name, what he did for a living, or anything much else about him. He tried to tell me that he was a real “alpha male,” and I needed to let him be the man in the relationship. Which I guess meant let him not tell me anything about himself (yes, I asked, halfheartedly, a few times), get me to give him a b.j., and then never call me again. Alpha males rock!

In addition, it appears from this article that when a man wants to talk about sex with you during your very first conversation, he may be married. Seriously? What man doesn’t want to talk about sex with you during your very first conversation? That means he’s married? Come on. Although, now that I think about it, the very first conversation I had with brentwood hello was a fairly serious phone sex conversation. Before we ever met, even. And I am not a big fan of phone sex…but his voice…mmmmm…

I wonder if brentwood hello was married? And maybe his wife found out about me/us, and that’s why he never called me again! Yes, that’s totally it! I love creating these movies in my head. It makes me feel so much better.

Here’s the thing. For some reason, I kind of don’t mind any of this crap. It’s entertaining, and certainly fun to write about after the fact. Would I be writing this right now if brentwood hello had continued calling me, if we had continued dating and had sex, and were a couple right now? Hell no. So, thanks, brentwood hello, for keeping my life interesting and keeping all of my readers (I think there are two) thoroughly entertained (I hope).

Ever notice there’s only one tiny difference between “dumped” and “duped?”

•April 26, 2010 • Leave a Comment

I’ve been dumped so many times recently my head is spinning. Or maybe I’ve just been duped. What’s the difference, really?

Last long-term relationship I was in? He dumped me.

Guy I met online? He dumped me.

Next guy I met online? He dumped me.

I’m noticing a pattern here.

Maybe I haven’t really been dumped all of these times because, really, you kind of have to be in a relationship to be dumped. I think. But I have been duped.

The real question is: who’s duping who? Are these guys duping me? Am I duping them? Am I duping myself?

Deep thoughts.

Speaking of deep…the last guy who dumped/duped me did so after I gave him what I like to call a “brentwood hello.” Look it up. Anyway, I only did it because we had been out a number of times, had made out a number of times, and I kinda felt like a jackass/cock tease for not sleeping with him – or at least doing something more than just kissing with him. So, I did it, it was nice, fine, whatever. And he never called me again.

I think I’m starting to get a complex. And I’m definitely becoming even more cynical than I already was. What kind of guy receives a blow job and then never calls the girl again? What kind of girl gives a guy a blow job and then never hears from him again? God. I’m so screwed.

I used to think that I wanted to get married, to have kids, etc. But now I just don’t know. My recent track record with dating has been so horrendous, so hideous, that I just don’t see myself ever meeting someone I can stand for more than five minutes, much less the rest of my life.

Fine, I can deal with that. But what about sex? Who am I supposed to have sex with? I hate online dating with a passion, and I haven’t met anyone I like in the real world in a while. And even when I think I kind of like someone, at least enough to brentwood hello him, he doesn’t reciprocate and then doesn’t call me again. I shoulda at least had him do something for me that night. I would have, if I had known it would be the last night I’d have the possibility for a while.

People reading this will think I’m some nasty, ugly, fat, unshaven slob. I swear, I’m really not. What’s a girl gotta do to get a guy these days?

That’s what this blog is for. No, not to find guys, dummy. For me to vent, to say the things I wouldn’t say even to my best friends. Cuz no one knows who I am, where I live, what I look like…or even if any of this is really true.

(Insert evil, witchy cackle here). Welcome to sex and the cynic, bitch. Buckle up.