June 5, 2012

I Deserve An Award Or Something.

Literally lost BOTH men I was chatting with/seeing within two days.

Self-admittedly, I kind of lost my shit at the prospect that Georgia, who at 6’3” with a body that just did not STOP and a sex-drive that may have even eclipsed my own was my perfect man, may actually be some out-of-shape 54 year old creeper still living with his mom somewhere finding photos of an obscenely hot dude on Facebook and 4chan, and metaphorically jumped all down his throat about the fact that he doesn’t have a Facebook page or functioning webcam— you know, the indicators that someone actually EXISTS when they’re the entire Eastern seaboard away from you— and told him he either had to send me other internet links (sports stats, LinkedIn, whatever,) proving he actually existed, or text me a photo of himself with a clock. In my Sherlock Holmesian dating mind, that was a really clever idea; you can fake photos of “yourself” with your dog and sexy-times photos and whatnot, but if the time on that clock don’t match up with current reality, BYE. Apparently, however, if Georgia was real and not an impersonator, that idea was just too much for him. And if he was an impersonator, he got that I was onto his game. However, this option is just too sad to fathom, see re: 6’3” football player with good credit and a 9-inch…HELLO.

I will, however, always have those memories. And photos. Thank you, baby Jesus.

As for JFK, not a peep since the last Morning After. (Actually, that’s a lie— he was on my OkC profile a few nights ago. Again, the more you read, the more you will not understand this anomaly either.) I’d texted him twice, once casually to end a bet between Caiti and I about who has preppier friends (salmon colored flat-front shorts were the deciding factor), the other time to invite him out for a few drinks, and have heard nothing but silence back. What bothers me most about this are two things:

A.) He has otherwise impeccable manners, so this show of ignorez-vousing is really out-of-character; totally had him pegged as an “I’m sorry, not tonight, I’m sick/busy/not home/not up for it/being abducted by aliens,” kind of guy instead of a “maybe you’ll just think I spontaneously lost my cell phone” kind of guy, which is always a bitch when people DON’T follow through with your niceties expectations of them, and,

B.) Ok, if a dude woke me up in the morning with head, I am 135% sure I would NEVER LET HIM GO. Maybe I just have a very high libido. (Guilty.) Maybe I just really love receiving/giving head. (Again, guilty.) But if someone I was seeing was handing out head like candy canes around Christmas time, I wouldn’t be going ANYWHERE. I would be spontaneously proposing. I mean, c’mon, I’m just about to turn 23. Having a guy go down on me is the shit. It’s what I live for right now. So I don’t understand it when men my age just let that…go.

(To those of your who are being all 1950s and fuddy-duddy and judgmental and thinking things like, “Well, if you really liked JFK, why were you texting/sexting with Georgia in the first place; did you think about what would happen if either ever found out; maybe you got what you deserved,” and shit like that, let me explain something to you: I am FULLY aware I am a needy motherfucker. I demand lots of time, attention, and entertainment, and sometimes— like especially when you’ve just started dating and getting to know someone— that can be really overwhelming. I get this. I know this about myself. And so, since there’s no exclusivity clauses, and especially since Georgia wasn’t supposed to move up here until the fall and knew I was seeing someone else, I don’t see anything wrong with spreading it around a little bit, especially so I’m not distracting JFK from his Very Important Job between the hours of 9 and 5 with things like “Hey, what do you think about football uniforms versus baseball uniforms?” or “I just had some amazing sushi for lunch; do you like sushi?” and all the other inane bullshit that I want to get a guy’s opinion on at odd hours of the day. Theoretically, I was doing all of us a favor.)

And I was having such a nice time with him; someone my age in this hell-hole who’s into their (gainfully employed; degree-wielding) job and intelligent and athletic and funny (and being easy on the eyes does not hurt anything). But no. Apparently, I cannot have nice things. Or men. Any sort of relationship with men.

Where is the nearest convent. Get me to it.


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June 30, 2012

I never thought I’d be using my B.S degree in writing to craft dirty stories for my long-distance lover.

Something tells me this I cannot put on my professional resume.

This is awkward. I haven’t written erotica since I was 18 and going through my longest dry-spell. I’m the queen of sexting, but there’s something about trying to prove my prowess as a creative writer AND turn a man on with filthy vocabulary at the same time that is just counter-intuitive in a longer format.

Hot…but still awkward.


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July 3, 2012

O-ing The Distance.

I had morning sex for nearly three hours this morning. It was awesome.

…With someone over 1,000 miles away.

Making long-distance my bitch, fuck yeah.


I hope anyone interested in carrying things on with someone miles away knows that if there’s a will, there’s a way, and you can really make it work as long as you’re both into it, open-minded, and creative. If you’re skeptical, I mean, obviously, there is no Go-go-Gadget dick that can stretch that distance, but when you find what works for you (photos, sexting, Skyping, phone sex, writing each other fantasies, whatever,) and get into it together with open communication and a little imagination, just knowing what you’re doing for each other can be just as fantastic as if you were really there. Here are some pointers to get you on your way:

- If you’re shy, slide into it. Come straight-out and admit to the fact that you’re willing, but a little hesitant. The right person will hold your hand through it and give you the feed-back to let you know you’re not putting yourself out there without a safety net.

- If you’re thinking something hot, say (text, type) it, no matter how far-out, dirty, or embarrassing. Now is not the time to be obtuse and play your cards close to your chest. Now is the time to (literally/figuratively) bare your chest. They’re not in the same room as you are. They can’t read your body-language or face for context clues. I know sex usually doesn’t include much talking (unless you’re into dirty-talk or role-playing and those sort of things,) but think of it this way— you’re going to have to SAY what you’re thinking you’d like to be doing. If you’d normally just reach out and wrap your hand around his cock…well, you’re going to have to type that. Yes, it can be brutally frank and scary. But we’re all grown-ups, not Ana from 51 Shades of Avoiding The Word “Vagina” or “Pussy”…when in doubt, it’s cock or dick, tits, pussy, and ass. Those words are porn classics for a reason. Say it with me, “I want to be sucking your cock right now.” There. See that, those words in black and white? Looks a little taboo, right? Feels a little sexy to read, yeah? Now you’re getting it!

- Sending photos can be totally, completely soul-baring, not to mention other parts. So, gentlemen, please know that with INternal plumbing, it’s not quite as easy as your dick pics. There may be a lag in time, because it can take awhile to get the right photo. Ladies, soft lighting at night is best for photography— candlelight, mood lighting, anything with a red lamp shade. It may seem very boudoir-esque, but there’s a reason it worked in brothels for centuries…it’s flattering. Know which angles work best to make the most of your naked body’s shape. Find a camera with a 10-second timer. If you need, set the mood with some sexy music, and for fortitude, a glass of wine or a bowl. Whatever will make it work for you. He can hold his…um, horses…for a little bit, believe me. And afterward, delete the evidence, or store it somewhere VERY secure and safe. Possibly password-protected.

- Give each other a hand, even if you can’t REALLY give each other a hand. If there’s something you’d want him to do if he were there, ask him if he’d do it. If you really have a strong preference for where you blow your load, tell her that that’s where you want it. A lot of phone sex/sexting/Skyping is like playing Dirty Mad Libs and saying, “I want to (verb) your (noun)…if I were there, I’d (verb/adjective/noun/adverb)…while you’re (verbing), do ______,…I’m doing….” It’s not like erotica because it’s more action-based than description-based and all about immediacy (things you’re hypothetically doing or would like to be doing rightthissecond), but it’s like erotica in the fact that you’re taking the task to hand (literally) with your imagination to fill in the blanks.

- Giving feedback is MANDATORY. Otherwise, you’re going to feel like you’re out there on your own and your partner may have either died of laughter or ran to call the police. Things like “wow,” “mmmmm,” “I’m so hard/wet,” “that’s so sexy,” or “I love when you do that,” are the best way to show that you’re just as into it as they are, and make sure their confidence and ego get stroked while other things are, as well.

- And sometimes, you’ve just got to talk the leap, say it or write it, and hold your breath and hope that it works. Even if you don’t always hit the mark, the two of you should be able to find some sort of mutual common ground for what you’re into happening.

The goal, just like whenever having real, live sex, is to get you both turned on and then both get off. If you’re not there yet, make sure your partner knows that it’s not over for you, and coach them on what you need to get there. Ladies, some men are going to want to see or hear the kinds of things you think of as the by-products of a vibrator session, so you won’t exactly be solo anymore. Conversely, not all women appreciate a nice cock…for some, getting a photo would be a turn-off. (Let’s face it, alone, on their own, they’re kind of entertaining in a bizarre, hairless-anteater way. You have to REALLY like someone and their dick to get turned on by an erect one-eyes snake staring you down.) At the end of the day, if done well, a distance session can be just as physically and emotionally rewarding as real sex, and the best compliment you can get is sincerity. “I feel like we just had sex,” my LDL told me, and I did, too, bouncing around flushed and relaxed and thoroughly satisfied through the rest of my day. That feeling— the glow— is what you’re going for. It’s possible, even without a Go-go-Gadget penis.

Best of luck, long-distance lovers!


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July 16, 2012

Things To Distract Yourself From Long Distance:

Let’s face it— having a long-distance lover can be hard. It’s like being single with a side-order of having yourself constantly be reminded that the person you’d like to be with is not actually in the same state. There’s some weird “Yay, being independent and not having to share my bed is great!” moments interspersed with bouts of extreme sexual frustration and semi-shitty solo orgasms that make you want to cry, and not in a good way. You see these couples walking hand-in-hand down the street and when they kiss you just want to interject yourself bodily between them and say, “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW FRUSTRATED AND LONELY THAT MAKES ME WHEN THE PERSON I WANT TO SMOTHER WITH MY AFFECTION IS A ZILLION MILES AWAY?! HAVE YOU NO RESPECT?! GET A FUCKING ROOM, PERVERTS!!!” I get it. Believe me, I get it. Which is why I have learned to appreciate the little things in day-to-day life that get you through until you can see your Captain of the Loveboat again. Some of them are really awesome and I mean them sincerely. Others are totally just part of being a lazy semi-single girl whose lover just happens to never be around, but I also mean those sincerely. Whatever your issue is, I’ve got some ways to solve your LDR blues:

1.) Do your fucking Kegels every day. I know this may not sound like the rollicking good time that one can have while the cat’s away and mice could theoretically be playing, but let me remind of two things; A, these are the muscles that are going to keep you from having to wear Depends by the time you’re 65 and prone to pissing yourself during laughing fits, and B, doing them will not only make you tighter down there, but will also give your vagina the ability to hold onto him for DEAR LIFE next time y’all can get together to do the horizontal no-pants-dance, which will blow. his. mind. This is totally valid. Clench and release those muscles for 10 minutes a day. Become a sex-beast at it and work your way up to being able to pulse or hold a clench for 30 seconds. Send him babbling to the ER after he loses circulation to his cock if you must. Next.

2.) You don’t have to shave regularly. This may seem totally gross to some men reading this, but you know what? I am not sleeping with you, and if you ARE the person I’m sleeping with, rest assured I have the date I’ll see you next marked on the calendar with little doodles of hearts and condoms around it, and I will be as clean-shaven as a porn star and as smooth as a totally fuckable chick’s bottom when I see you. Depending on how long your stints solo are, there are all sorts of interesting periods to go through: the itchy Just-Growing-Out-So-Please-Excuse-Me-While-I-Grope-Myself-Down-There-To-Relieve-The-Sensation phase, the ’70s Bush (not George), the National Forest trust, and my personal favorite, the Grizzly Bear. I know it’s summer and therefore, a bikini line and shaved legs may be on your list of priorities, but I’m a blonde who doesn’t really grow body hair and is flirting with the idea of being a naturalist hippie, so I just refuse to GAF until I can give myself the perfect, silken, ingrown-free shave in 11 days. Because, let’s face it— you always get the best, closest, most pain-free shave when there’s more hair than skin to work with. Nobody enjoys having the stupid little red bumps down there that make less experienced men worry needlessly about herpes because THEY have never tried to shave their balls before to figure out what they are.

3.) Work out. This is not about respecting your body and being healthy and blah blah blah. This is about putting yourself through intense physical pain while your sweetheart isn’t around to hear you whimper like a sissy and witness you having to hold onto the walls and gradually lower yourself down onto the toilet in the span of 5 minutes like a very horrifying flash-forward of what living with you when you’re 92 would be like. Hopefully, they’ll be dead before that would really happen, because NO ONE deserves to have to see that ungainly shit. This is also about being ridiculously, ridiculously fit and good-looking the next time your lover sees you naked. Onward to less vain things!

4.) Volunteer for something to do a good deed AND keep yourself occupied. You don’t think I’m volunteering for Solarfest sheerly out of the goodness of my heart, do you? No. I’m volunteering out of the goodness of my heart because I love the festival and its people and also because it will give me three days of having a purpose where I would normally have free time that I would spend pining and sighing like a moody teenage girl who has never gotten laid and is waiting for Billy to call her on another lonely, insanely boring Friday night. Do you know what I will be doing THIS Friday night instead? Being in a drum circle around a massive pyrotechnic bonfire, trying not to get my ass burned. So much better. Keeping busy this way will also guareentee that you have some great stories and excitement to share next time you see each other, like when he asks what you did last Friday or when you have to explain how you got that bongo-shaped burn on your ass.

5.) Go for a hike. It’s summer. The weather is gorgeous. The trails are being well-maintained. People’s excitement to be outside is infectious. Plus, when you’re sweating and watching squirrel’s mating rituals and admiring the scenery from on top of a mountain you JUST DEFEATED, FUCK YEAH!, it’s hard to spend all of your time mentally calculating the hours and minutes until you get to hold their adorable face between your hands again and kiss the ever-living shit out of them. Take a photo of the panorama. Send it to them. They’ll be impressed at your Queen-of-the-Mountain prowess. Also, studies have proven that getting out into sunlit-dappled wooded areas makes your brain produce more serotonin, which aides both depressed feelings and makes you feel happier. So this tip is actually something for your mental health so you don’t drive yourself bat-shit crazy.

6.) Don’t talk/text/Skype every day. I know this may seem a little odd to be telling you to NOT talk to your S.O to get closer to them, but you tell me how exciting this conversation sounds: “Hey babe, how was your day?” “It was fine. Worked from 10 ‘til 4. It was really slow. Now I’m eating this microwave lasagna for one I picked up at the grocery store. What about yours?” “Remember that client that I told you I hate? Yeah, he came in today. So how’s your roommate?” “Same old, same old…they’re using my deodorant again and I hate that.” Yeah, so I just fell asleep. After I poke you awake, I’m going to ask you if it isn’t better to just contact each other when something good happens or when you really want to have some deep, meaningful conversation or a particularly spontaneous sext-session, instead.

7.) This is Tumblr. We all find/see/search out beautifully filthy images and GIFs of porn and sex acts every day. Save some of the better ones, and send them to your honey. Because really, what says “I’m going to fuck you until you forget your own name” better than a moving image of a cock going into someone’s mouth or a woman screaming and writhing with getting penetrated? That’s my sort of romance!

8.) Inevitably, something will happen or be seen that reminds you of an inside joke or hobby or favorite thing. Or maybe, you see something really pretty and want to share it (see: hiking scenery, porn). Snap a pic of it with your ever-present cell phone and send it to them. Who doesn’t love getting random, pertinent, “just saw this and thought of you!” messages? They’re adorable. They show that you know the nuances and quirks of someone’s character. I know I do. I love being thought of. See? Bitches love being thought of.

9.) Paint your nails; organize your closet; pack and unpack and repack until you have a suitcase of a size and weight that is actually acceptable by the rest of humanity WITHOUT a vagina so you don’t scare the poor bloke when you show up looking like you’re about to move in; see #2 above and shave the day before.

10.) This is your perfect opportunity to be the world’s best Wing Woman for your friends. Scratch that— this is the perfect opportunity to be the world’s best friend. Go out with your girls. Catch up with your dudes and invite them over for a homemade dinner, because believe me, you are going to be DYING for male company. Return calls that are months old that you’ve been putting off. Check in with your family members to make sure no one’s died while you’ve been angst-ing about the miles. And because you’re probably not meeting anyone who you prefer to your long-distance lovah, feel free to flirt ruthlessly, hone your skills, and help your friends get laid, too. There’s nothing better than spreading the love. Unless, of course, it’s spreading your legs when you finally get to see your LDL again.

Happy time-wasting!


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August 30, 2012

OkStupid. Really, OK, Stupid.

  • Guy on OkC, 300 miles away from me: Hey there you're amazingly cute wanna chat? Message back.
  • Me: The last guy hundreds of miles away who asked me to chat was not the person in his profile pictures and was just looking for easy nudes. Your photos are hot, so it would be a shame if you're faking it, but I am not going to show you my tits on Skype, regardless. Knowing that, ball's in your court if you still want to "chat."
  • Guy on OkC: (Silence.)
  • ...And another one bites the dust.
  • XOXO

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January 10, 2013

The Princess and the Porn.

Men. Women. Sex. Porn. What’s considered “normal”? What’s not? What do girlfriends find “acceptable” or NOT when walking in on their dude whacking it to Sasha Grey? Welcome to my most-asked questions from women about dudes.

I have some very definitive feelings about people, porn, and personal relationships. Namely, that watching porn is something most men do; they will never stop; and it doesn’t mean they desire you any less…it just means they’re alive, breathing, and not blind. In short, I fully believe that watching porn— even while you’re in a relationship— is COMPLETELY NORMAL. Gentlemen, ladies, you can all breathe a sigh of relief, now.

(Quick aside: Because, really, let’s face it; WATCHING other people have sex sure as HELL beats a partner actually HAVING sex with people other than you. Been there; done that; can tell you it is MUCH worse than a little innocent fantasy porn-watching. I also don’t consider watching or viewing porn as “cheating.” I think unless your partner builds an emotional attachment that can ONLY be filled through porn, it’s really the least of the non-evils. I would actually even prefer my boyfriend to watch porn than to check out real, live women passing by on the street, but I know he’s probably going to do both, anyway, just like I do. We all admire members of the opposite— or same— sex for their beauty; trying to stifle that urge goes completely against our human nature and can be VERY unhealthy and make for a VERY unhappy partner.)

I am a HUUUUUUUUGE proponent of watching porn. I probably spend at LEAST an hour every day watching porn. That’s pretty much how I get my rocks off these days. I believe if used correctly, it can be a great tool to explore your sexuality, work off any sexual frustration, and actually ENHANCE your relationship with your partner. 

Men are strictly visual creatures. Women can read shit like “50 Shades of Other Words For My Vagina” and get all hot and bothered just by using our imaginations, but men really need those pictures and videos and sounds to have it work for them. And according to them, a lot of the time they’re viewing porn, it’s because they don’t have the time or energy for full-on sex, or need the “personal time” release of just themselves. Even though you’re in a relationship, do you still masturbate occasionally when you’re tired and just need to get off, or when you feel like you need to just get it done RIGHT and QUICKLY? It’s the same thing for men, but they tend to use porn as a tool to get there. Unless they’re substituting porn for having sex with you, I don’t get worried about it at all. I mean, it would be like the pot calling the kettle black— I would be TOTALLY offended if a man mandated (hahaha, see what I did there?) that because I was in a relationship with him, I wasn’t “allowed” to view porn or masturbate because of it being perceived as a “threat” to our relationship. In fact, I would probably end the relationship, because sometimes, I just need time alone with my lesbian porn when I’m really frustrated with men. Truth.

Whenever I have a person reach out to me asking how they should act, do, or feel about their partner using porn, the first thing it makes me wonder is if they watch porn themselves? Women tend not to be such active users as men are, because I’ll admit, it can be an awkward and uncomfortable habit to get into. A lot of women have low self-esteem when it comes to our body image; sometimes it translates into issues with seeing other naked bodies. If that’s not it, porn could actually be a good tool for getting to see naked women of ALL shapes and sizes being considered sexually attractive by men. One of my favorite things to do while watching porn is compare my “problem areas” to that of the actresses…you’d be AMAZED how many times a woman you consider perfectly sexy has a little bit of a stomach pooch, just like you, or has thighs the same size. It really blows my mind and affirms to me that men— and women— tend to like women who are a little more “curvy” and feminine in the Baroque sense than the Victoria’s Secret models of today, because apparently, ramming yourself repeatedly against pointy hip-bones is not sexy to men. But you know what is? HIPS.

I know how awkward and stressful it can be to get used to the idea of someone who professes to be only interested in you getting all hot and bothered over an image of another women, even if it’s one of those porn GIFs or sexy-naked-woman-in-a-compromising-position photos that Tumblr is absolutely PLASTERED with. If your BF has a Tumblr, or even just browses the internet, he’s bound to come across images like this. I mean, if you’re tooling around Tumblr, I’m sure YOU occasionally are subjected to the naughty photos of naked or nearly-naked men or porn GIFs that are shared for EVERYONE’S mutual enjoyment. In this day and age, porn is just a prevalent force— sex sells, after all— and as long as your boyfriend is still attracted to you, still being an active member of your relationship, and still having and INITIATING regular sex with you, I’d say you really having nothing to worry about. Boys will be boys, after all! It’s in his nature and biological make-up to be interested in looking, and as much as you might like, we women will never be able to change that, and I think we shouldn’t ever try.

If, for some reason, you REALLY can’t get over the idea of your beloved boyfriend looking at other people naked, I know what you have to do: Be naked for him. I know in today’s day and age, sexting and sending naked photos of yourself is something we all do, regret, and are warned against doing, but if you really TRUST your boyfriend, and he’s a good guy who even if things were to go VERY bad and you were to break-up, you wouldn’t be able to imagine him vindictively spreading them, I don’t see the harm in exchanging sexually explicit or naked photos of yourself with him. If he’s a really decent guy who has never given you an issues as far as gossiping or spreading secrets, and who you’d trust with your naked body and the world, do it. Having an image of your partner to look at, when you know they were thinking of you when they made it, can be EXTREMELY sweet and hot and actually a great way to bond. Just remember the rules if you’re still wary of having your face out there: You can shoot below your face, and not to have any distinguishing features or backgrounds.

If you’re still worried about it, it’s fine, don’t do it; I’d suggest you warm up to the idea of viewing porn together with your BF instead for a similar experience, or sending him the links to photos that YOU think he’d enjoy and you’d feel ok about him viewing. Again, it’s about the sharing/bonding concept, and the talking about personal fantasies.

Here are two links to articles on porn and relationships that I wrote back in college for the SL&R column I kept. One deals with finding out a boyfriend’s porn preferences and thus, why porn is a magical land where anything goes, and the other is about being a woman who watches porn: 



And for your LITERAL viewing pleasure, I suggest YouPorn.com and in particular the X-Art videos. They’re good-looking, healthy actors and actresses in sensual, attractive situations and settings, and won’t shock you like a bukkake orgy scene might turn you off. Find out what you like, and maybe invite your boyfriend to join you in your watching. If you and he can INCLUDE each other in your porn viewing, maybe it would be less offensive to you, and sexier for him to have YOU, his sex partner, involved!

Hope this helps BOTH of you!


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January 20, 2013

This is how Twig and I stay in touch— obscene emoji texts when there’s no real news or anything else to say.

…Just an average, ordinary long-distance thing.

…It’s so perfect and I love it. It never fails to be hilarious to me. This should give you a really good, quick character sketch of the both of us.


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January 25, 2013

I have just spent two hours tottering around in 5 inch heels in this fucking freezing Vermont winter house wearing nothing but a bra and stockings and garter set, attempting to take *~*SeXXXayPhOtOs*~* for Twig so we can find out what he REALLY thinks of garters and stockings. 

It was exhausting.

I am now cold, and my feet hurt.

Goddamit. Being sexual is such hard work.


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July 24, 2013

How NOT To Sext Like Anthony Weiner.

You were waiting for this, weren’t you? You knew as soon as the loaded “package” dropped yesterday that I’d have something to say on this subject, and you were right. Boy, oh boy, were you right. Where do I start?

Just in case you’re living under a rock, or under your workspace computer desk laden down with NSFW filters, or somewhere where there isn’t high-speed broadband internet (like, where? North Dakota?), Weinergate 2.0 broke yesterday when a flood of sexts from the former U.S representative from New York…who is already infamous from the Weinergate incident 1.0 back in June of 2011 sexting women via Twitter and other seedy online social sites that forced him to abdicate his post…well, oops, he did it again.

Weiner’s wiener, operating under the pseudonym “Carlos Danger”, moonlighted post-2011 scandal on a website called The Dirty, sexting AT LEAST a 22 year-old woman whose chats were leaked on Facebook and Formspring. (Let’s all wait with bated breath for more to come forward.) Containing lines such as “I must have cum thinking about you and looking at you 100 times. How does that make you feel? Gross?”, “I turn you around and bend you over the back of a chair. Your pussy asking for it,” and “Would you let me hold your hair while you gagged on my cock?”, the leaked chats have sent the American public, Twitter, the government, and every state south of Pennsylvania into a sexually-frazzled tizzy.

But before you get all hot and bothered, there were also these gems: “Why are u awake?” and, “My cat sat down on my keyboard.” 

Let he who has never sent a dick pic or swapped innuendo with some hot young thing cast the first stone. And let the first Casanova who was not tongue-tied (or text-tied) at some point during an electronic romance judge. Personally, I’m at lot more worried about the fact that one of our reoccurringly-elected officials writes in incomplete sentences. 

Here’s the real rub: Weiner’s, or rather, “Danger’s”, texts and behavior have been labeled “perverse” and “violent” by the media that has decided to take this story more seriously than just shaking their heads at the absurdity of his alias. I’m assuming that the people who can’t just let a man be mocked by the press without being called a “sexual predator” are either his political rivals or the same morons in Virginia who are currently trying to make oral and anal sex illegal. (Because, you know, they’re “gay.”) Let me tell you, the day that a man can’t use the words “gag on my cock” without being vilified is a very sad, strange day. Using that logic, my very sweet, very consensual boyfriend should probably be publicly flogged for some of the things he’s said in the throes of passion, and have his mouth washed out with soap. And I should probably be locked away in a mental institution for some of the suggestions I’ve spontaneously sexted him.

We live in a 21st century with a rampant fascination with pornography and scarily-smart phones that can film, capture, edit, filter, and send our own not-so-pretty pictures at our own random will, or be hacked by those operating for the forces of evil and public embarrassment. No matter how well-guarded you think you are, if you’re anyone of substance, the only safe way to keep your shady secrets and predilections to yourself is just not to put them out there in the first place. No sexting for you. Siiiiiiigh.

…Or, you can take the more take-charge approach to it and manage your content yourself.

So, we know Anthony Weiner likes it doggy-style and fantasizes about women gagging on his junk. We know that when erect, his (political) member roughly resembles…well, himself. Every. single. goddamn. time you put a piece of information anywhere on the internet, no matter your “privacy” settings or secure website certifications, assume that if it includes an ass and tits, it’s going to get out there. This is why I’ve curated my own collection of nudes right here on my Tumblr, so that I MYSELF was the first person to leak my naked and vulnerable body to the world. This is also why my boyfriend knows if he wants a pic from me, he has to specify, “Something FRESH that no one else has seen.” He’s a lot more protective of my body than I am, but then again, I’m a lot more realistic. After the third “where’s your wallet?” hide-n’-seek game in our relationship, I resigned myself to the fact that his not-password-protected dumbphone may at some point become lost, and all those nasty, filthy things I sexted him over the course of our long-distance relationship may end up on 4chan and I could become spontaneously famous, a la Kim Kardashian-style. So I have some pointers for you in the future, Anthony Weiner:

A.) Only send photos that you’re proud of. In this context, “proud” means whatever you’re comfortable with. I know a lot of dudes are into terrifyingly up-close shots of all sorts of things that make me squeamish thanks to our free-porn web-browsing society, but that just ain’t for me. I get turned on by artistic classic pin-up-style glamourpuss shots that are edited and filtered for maximum “if this leaks, I can always change my career” capability, so those are the only shots I’ll take and send. Tough cookies for those looking for the coochie.

Gentlemen, this roughly translates for you as, “Wash it and trim it and get under good lighting before you stroke it and click it.” Also, women are not quite as taken with money-shots as you are. I don’t live with semen. So I’m not quite as laissez-faire about it as you guys are. It kind of has the effect of making me want to speedily wash my sheets, not getting me all hot like you may want. There is, however, something majestic and noteworthy about an impressively engorged penis that about 98% of straight women will look at and think, “Wow, that’s a penis,” if nothing else.

B.) Own your fetishes. I mean, no, if someone hacked my phone and sent my mother an email of all the things I’ve sent my boyfriend late at night, I wouldn’t be really cool with it. But I like what I like. That’s who I am. We all have secrets about our sexuality, and they’re nothing that we should be ashamed of or make fun of anyone else for liking. Anal may not be your cup of tea, but that doesn’t make it “wrong” or something that only gay men do. Wanting to hold a woman’s hair back while she gags on your cock is not perverse or violent or anything to vilify someone for fantasizing about. In fact, speaking on behalf of a long-haired woman, I actually found the sentiment rather cute and helpful. Believe me. Long hair gets EVERYWHERE.

And C.) If you’re going to be thumb-fucking, as my father refers to carrying on relationships via electronic media, it might behoove you to do some reading up on erotica or talking (texting) dirty. “50 Shades Of Cutesy Terms For A Vagina” is not a place I suggest starting, for obvious reasons, unless you REALLY want to be sexting your partner about how they make your “inner goddess” want to do the horizontal cha-cha…with a bullwhip. Instead (and because I think the sort of people who DO sext are the same people who generally find themselves talking at least a little bit dirty in reality’s bed), think about the sort of language that you and your partner ACTUALLY use when you’re together. Start small. (Not literally; I’m not insinuating any size-related issues here.) Start with what you two refer to your naughty-bits as. Does he have a cock, or a dick? Does she have a clit, or a button? Is it a pussy, or a vagina, or a lady love-box? Do you two fuck, or do you make love to each other? Having a fun and acrobatic vocabulary will also help, as well as being able to use your imagination and vibrator correctly. Does he like it when you (verb) his (noun) real (adverb)? Does she prefer to be handled gently, or does she secretly get off on being a “dirty girl?” You two will know what each other likes better than anyone else, so another good place to start is to think back to Sexual Memory Lane and times and things that really got both your motors running and reference them like, “I was just thinking about that time at Burning Man with the peacock feathers and peyote…remember that? Mmmm, it’s giving me flashbacks again.” Getting “in the mood” this way and starting a little self-loving on your own beforehand I’ve found really loosens your inhibitions and gets the ball rolling. Especially if you tell your partner what you’re currently doing. Or send them a photo as proof. Just remember Rule A, and you should NEVER have to make conversation like, “My cat sat on my keyboard,” ever again. 

When the media hullabaloo boils down to it, and right-wing mayoral contestants stop clutching their hankies and pearls about it, the realism of the issue at hand is that we, as Americans, have to come to grips with the fact that if your 16 year old daughter is sexting, chances are, your elected politicians are, too. Politicians have sex. The Obama’s probably have some texts from the campaign trail when they were apart that they’d rather us not know about. Police officers and FBI agents have sex. Military officials have sordid little love-triangles that make NO SENSE to anyone, even themselves. Priests have sex (hopefully, not with little boys). We all have sex. It is LITERALLY part of life. And sexting is part of our 21st century sex lives. So let’s be more interested in the size of stimulus packages than what our politicians like to call their personal packages, ok, you guys?

A current mayoral candidate for NYC, Weiner has declined backing out of the race. ‘Atta boy! On behalf of every red-blooded, blue-voting American who owns a smartphone with high camera resolution between the ages of 14 and 65, you own those sadly dirty texts! In the words of Jasun Mark (@jasunmark on Twitter), “In 15 years, the scandal will be which politician was so uptight in college that there are no pictures of his junk anywhere on the Internet.”

Amen. America. The free; the proud; the freely proudly raunchy. Where everyone goes home to a happy ending. And that is my American Dream.


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August 9, 2013

The Truth About “Happily Ever After,” Or, Why Having A Standard Couples’ Brunch On Sundays Is A Bore.

This started as very lengthy text I sent one of my Single & Fabulous Twenty-Something friends. Now that I am, in the Bridget Jones’ vernacular, a “Smug Married,” I felt the need to blow the top wiiiiide off of this shit when my friend started doing the “but I’m so lonely and couples are taunting me in their cuteness, damn them,” song-and-dance and it kind of snowballed into the things that I miss about Single Life (but wouldn’t want to trade my bubby in for!) from there. (No matter how many times he farts on me in bed.)

…If you are adverse to the word “shit,” and it’s many different colorful usages and forms, do NOT continue reading.


Look, I’m going to let you in on a secret as someone in a “happy” relationship: it shouldn’t be called a “relationship.” It really can be a “relationSHIT.”

Because this shit ain’t fun 100% of the time, nor is it always happy. It’s fun about 60% of the time. Being in love with someone is hard work. It’s inherent when you meet someone and you both want to be with each other, but it sure as hell ain’t easy. You shouldn’t be feeling left out or jealous by people who are together, because we’re just in a whole new bucket of worms that’s just as shitty (if not emotionally more) to deal with. It’s one thing to be let down by some chump who has no designs on being part of your life— you have the power to just write him off, kiss him goodbye, and move on. That’s some serious mojo. That’s POWER, baby. It’s another thing to be constantly let down by someone who told you they want to be part of your life. My lovely, loving boyfriend hasn’t told me he loves me in over a week. He also seems to be hell-bent on refusing to sext with me via pushing off all attempts, which I desperately need because I am so horny I am about to start humping furniture and slow-moving cars. But I can’t just walk away from that, and so that important power shifts and gets all imbalanced and shit.

There is no “easy out” or way to reset this bullshit. It’s not anything that I would recommend to anyone as being something “fun” or “smart” for the head and the heart. When you’re single, the only person who can really, HONESTLY affect your mood is you, not your partner, too. So a dude’s a dick. Fuck him. You’re so much better off without him. Seriously. Would you WANT to put up with his bullshit? I didn’t think so. Believe me, it’s not worth the sex, because that will inherently diminish after about month three. No one should start a relationship to get laid more.

You don’t have to deal with piss all over the toilet seat, or constant farting, or fighting over which movie you really want to spend $20 to see. You don’t have to worry if the person who committed themselves to you is also committing themselves to fucking the cute chick at work. You don’t have to worry that the guy you’re going on a first date with is going to tell you he wants out when you try to casually address something he does that drives you completely nuts and thus render the last six months of your life with him completely squandered. 

But seriously. Relationships are not all cuddles and sex 24/7 and dinner with another human being and holding hands. If I didn’t stubbornly adore my bubby and his finer moments at least 75% of the time, I would rather be single and able to mingle. 

So believe me— don’t feel bad that you’re not in a gruesome-twosome. Don’t be jealous. Be excited to be single and get to pick and choose the guys who you see. Don’t settle for shit, because seriously girl, you’ve got the world at your fingertips right now. It’s not like I can just walk out the door and be like, “I’m going to go meet a guy today.” And THAT’S something to be jealous of. For real.

Now excuse me. I have to go try and scientifically decode my boyfriend’s text messages to find out if he’d be receptive to a little sextual healing. See what I mean? This shit never changes. 


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Single Girls Life Twenty-Something Texting Sexting Friends Girl Shit Dating Dating Makes Me Want To Die Couples Relationships Truth RelationSHIT Power Plays Long Distance Long Distance Relationships Boyfriend Love Love And War

September 18, 2014