Plenty of


So I guess I was asking for this date to go badly.  I broke my own cardinal rule and contacted him first.  He looked hot.  And he seemed friendly. We actually flirt-texted periodically throughout time I was home for Christmas and I was pretty stoked for the date.

Let’s make that rule #1 of my impending online dating experiment.  Don’t actually get excited for any of these dates.  I will from here on out expect them to be interesting learning experiences, hilarious entertainment, and as a bonus side dish maybe a free meal/drink/skydive. (Hey, a lot of guys put skydiving as their ideal first date—a girl can dream!) Actually finding someone suitable to date from the POF pond is not #1 priority or expectation from here on out.

Ok—so POF date #1.

We didn’t know much about each other’s official personal information despite the prolonged text time period. Mostly we would text back and forth about our day-to-day, and although I generally would advise against too much chat before the first actual meeting, I was excited because he seemed witty and easy to talk to. [Typically if you’ve spent time conversing, you have already sucked down the usual first date topics of conversation that are so easy to fall back on when an unfamiliar silence sits awkwardly between the two of you for the first time.]

Ball one: he calls to say he is leaving his house (approx 20 min away) after the time we ha decided we’d meet.  I bust his chops, telling him how I knew he was more of a girl than I was, but really I wasn’t annoyed.  And, even as a girl, I put the phrase perpetually late to shame. I’d left the plans up to him, because well, he’s supposed to be the man.  Previously he had excitedly mentioned something regarding a fortune teller [in the fun and different way, not the creepy “I can’t see you unless the stars are aligned” type of way], but all he said was “lol, yeah, we’re in for a fun night ;)”

It was my suggestion to meet at The Roller Coaster which twinkles its lights more or less right on the sand that meets the Pacific Ocean.  The potential for cheesy romance is certainly there.  Except he is inside of his car when I arrive. And doesn’t get out ‘til he sees me, despite the fact that we are on the phone and he knows I am walking up. [So if I weren’t cute he could peel out in his big bad 1992 Lexus? I didn’t know I was fishing in that shallow of a pond…]

As a matter of fact, he actually isn’t as cute as his photos had suggested, is shorter and has a weird nervous laugh that goes off every couple seconds, but I want to be open-minded & give it a chance.

We stroll and chat for a bit until I finally suggest grabbing a drink at the bar across the street to plan our next move. He is a ‘VIP table host at 2 different bars’, but after I ask if he knows one of the girls at the second bar he mentioned, he admits he hasn’t actually started at the second one.

I don’t recognize the name of the first one he keeps bragging about, so finally I ask where it is located and he quietly responds that it is in Hillcrest, notoriously the gay side of town (which obviously means it is also one of my favorite places in the city, but I digress…). After talking about him, his job and his past for about an hour, I finally jump in and offer some information about myself.

His work is SO IMPORTANT that he books a table while I am sitting right next to him (from texting potential client right down to running his card via paypal), and I enjoy better conversation with the bartender.  The only interest I got from the guy was a little bit of a head perk up when I told him I was into girls, but not long enough to interrupt the transaction.

I guess he could tell I was uninterested from the beginning, from his misleading pictures and stats (hey little guys—stop lying about your height, and then I will wear appropriately sized heels) to his nervous, and unfortunately continuous Bevis and Butthead type laugh, to his interest in going to da klub on his days off despite working in the club scene, to his retort of “I don’t eat fried food” after my appetizer suggestion… all the way through his casual mention of cocaine usage.

Normally in a situation where my friends are texting at the bar next to me, I whip my phone out and do the same.  This time I purposefully sat and stared into space made conversation with the friendly bar tender.

Finally (AKA after about one painful hour) I asked for the bill while his hands and eyes were magnetized to his precious iPhone [Now I know why he was such a good text messager.], and when I dropped my card into the check presenter, he too dropped his and we both knew he’d signed his ticket out.

Clearly frustrated, in a fake overly cheerful voice, I offered: “I’m gonna stay and wait for my ride, but I’ll walk you out.” A few steps out of the bar, an awkward one-armed hug, a very sincere ‘nice meeting you,’ and I was free of a fish I should have thrown back the second I reeled him in! Phew.

Defeated, I walked back into the bar. The bar tender offered to buy me a shot.

The cab that scooped me up on my walk home contained 2 guys just leaving the Rose Bowl, having the time of their lives.  No cab fare needed. Giggling dudes decked out in sports gear with their faces painted were more gentlemanly than my date.

POF victim #1: Strike 1


Not Biting This Time...


Elevating Yourself

Ladies.  When a sexy babe gets onto the elevator with you and your man friend, and his eyes glaze over, don’t get down on yourself!

A. It’s human nature for guys to be interested in fresh meat.  It’s the same reason boys in grade school always chase the new girl in class.  This is the same phenomenon carried over, decades later.

But B., you can use to your advantage that littler green monster that many of us find ourselves repressing when in this situation… what about her draws him in???


My guy friend recently asserted to me that he can tell whether a girl is hot or not from behind.  That there’s some positive correlation between the way a woman dresses and her level of hotness.  I was appalled at first! Sometimes I don’t dress up! Sometimes I rock some sweatpants.  Say somethin’!

But then I sat at the bar, at the back of the room and did some babe watching.  (Life is tough.)  Even though the hot girls didn’t necessarily wear heels and rock mini skirts, I realized he was kind of right.  The babes always had semi-polished hair, some sort of make-up, and clothes that were right for their body types.

So take note of elevator babe.  I’m not saying go out and dye your hair every 2 weeks for an extra-added expense of $500/month.  I’m not saying pay for a manicure.  I’m saying pluck your eyebrows yourself.  Blowdry or straighten or curl your hair.  Wear a big piece of jewelry [forever 21—cannot go wrong. …until it falls apart.  But enjoy it ‘til then.  Ride it ‘til the wheels fall off!] for a conversation piece/ to draw attention to yourself.

The most important thing is to feel good about yourself.  If you look in the mirror and feel happy and confident about the way you look, you will radiate that self-confidence and beauty, and draw men in.

….and that’s all I got to say about thaaatttt.

Oh yeah, actually: and wear clothes that flatter your body.  Not every trend or article of clothing from your friend’s closet will look good on you.  That’s okay.  The best opinion is a man’s opinion. When you dress up for your girl friends, that’s who you’re going home with.  Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing… 😉

…more on that to follow… 😉

Git it…

I dig this.

Enjoy yourself, and possibly get a date out of it.

I will say though, who needs a new yr’s date???? I’m saying: enjoy rolling solo, and bring the new year in just that way… also: think of how many hot guys are trolling the bars and parties in search of that new and exciting babe to make out with so that when the ball drops they don’t end up kissing a bottle of Bud.  Bottom line: not necessary to bring sand to the beach, especially when rining in YOUR new year!  However, I dig the idea of this aritcle in general.

Happy New Year!




Every Kiss Does NOT Begin with Kay.

…Quite the opposite, actually.

I’m not usually a cheesedick.  I hate stupid mushy shit, probably mostly because I am kind of jaded about the whole love bullshit.  But all my cynicism aside, I do love the holidays, and I do love shopping for the people I love.

However.  Many people, men specifically, are roped into spending way too much $$$ on gifts for their significant others! I even had a stressed out girl friend confide in me: “I know Randy is gonna spend way more money on me than I am on him!”  I told her not to be ridiculous.  We have periods and babies and get Brazilians, and boys spend money on us.  That’s the way the world works! The end.

Kidding.  Well, mostly… ;p

But seriously, as I told her, she had picked out very thoughtful gifs for him! He lost quite a bit of weight, and started creating his own holes in his belt, so she’s getting him a belt.  [Although, now come to think of it, she’s probably just embarrassed to be seen with him wearing that shit! … kidding again.  Kind of, again.  Ha.]  Also, he shaves his head weekly, if not daily, so she went to The Art of Shaving store and bought him a little kit! Thoughtful!

So back to cheese-erific mushy loveydovey world.

The absolute BEST gifts are thoughtful, meaningful and personal.

And the absolute most meaningful gifts are the gifts of



& Energy.

So go ahead and make that loving gesture.  This is the time for that.  Post a video message of you singing a song for the girl you love, for all of the Facebook world to see.  Write her a poem. Print a picture of the two of you and put it in a cute frame. Bring her to finally do that thing you’ve always wanted to do together; even if it isn’t “romantic,” but she is itching for the thrill of a rollercoaster (and maybe the thought of it gives you less than butterflies).  Take some of those stupid photo booth pictures.  Bring her on a picnic and lay in the grass and just enjoy each other’s company, and actually physically leave your phones in the car.  Give a massage. Give kisses. [Sidenote: if your woman enjoys kisses half as much as I do, you should probably give her at least 20/ day.] Give hugs. Give public displays of affection even though it makes you uncomfortable… but you know she loves it.  Plant something together so you can watch it grow. Volunteer together, or go play with the kittens at the animal shelter even though it stinks like shit.  Isn’t it worth it to see her face light up? [Hint: if it isn’t, get out now.]

And those are the MOST generic of things.  Maybe she loves seahorses.  Maybe she loves alligators.  Find [and don’t tell me you can’t find something.  It’s called the internet.  It’s at your fingertips RIGHT NOW.] shirts, jewelry, towels, pillowcases, flowerpots, or car steering wheel covers with alligators on them. Start listening now. What’s a hobby she’s been meaning to get into, or what’s a movie she loves but when you go through her collection, you realize she doesn’t own?  Listen— you’ll find that meaningful gift.

Example: I have the symbol for infinity tattooed on me, but as it gets worn down, it has a break at the end & is no longer infinite.  A good friend of mine bought me a sculpture of the symbol for infinity with a weird squiggle-y break in it.  From Goodwill.  For $4. Best $4 he’s ever spent on me.

One thing I can say is, usually when you hear those advertisements: “LOOKING FOR THE PERFECT GIFT FOR THAT SPECIAL SOMEONE? … BUY OUR STUPID SHIT!!!”…? Run like hell. That is the LAST thing you should buy.

And I will come to your house and punch you in the mouth if you get him or her a gift certificate.  No, wait, I’ll let him/her do it for you.




…is to give some ;p

The other AM, I woke boy up with a BJ.

Needless to say, it was a good start to the day  ; )

A little better than an alarm clock, and after a few minutes with the ol’ kisser, I’m sure strapping a condom on and jumpin’ up there is less than a question.  So if you wake up feelin’ frisky, this might be a good way to get the ball rolling… Keep in mind, however, that  a bathroom break is usually needed before crossing the finish line. AM BJ guy is generally the opposite of sexually rude, and he gets the importance of positive reinforcement.

So I figured I’d reinforce this:

BJ Etiquitte:

Disputed: don’t push the girl’s head down.  In a kinky way, it could be hot. You know I love [mutually accepted] bedroom violence, but this move can be construed as sexually rude. This goes for nudging the act into play and during the play itself.  Really it all depends on how well you know each other.  And hopefully if you’re oral sexing you at least know the person’s last name.  …Or can look it up on facebook ; p

Undisputed: (Among my friends, anyway)

1. Don’t let that hair get wild. And we can tell if you haven’t showered.  That ish stinks.  And it’s salty.  Ew. And if you are un-showered, and I like you, I’m usually down anyway, at least for a little bit.  But give the heads up.

2. Do make noises! Positive reinforcement goes a long way! Just a little: ooh, aah, right there, oh yeah does the trick.  If you want to take it a little further, give a little instruction.  This goes twenty fold for women.  Say what you like, or even go as far as to make suggestions.  S/he is going down on you to make you feel good! Don’t work against that! You deserve it  ; )

3. Do give us a HEADS UP! If you’re about to finish, let me know… again, chances are if I know you and like you and know you’re disease free, I’m down for the big finish.  If not, I’d suggest a little pre-planning.  Face, chest, tissue…

4. More positive reinforcement! When it’s all over, act like that was the best experience of your life! Be thankful! The more appreciative you are, the more likely it will happen again.  And it should happen again.  You deserve it   ; )



Long Distance Lovin’

Even though I’m sad that loverman is leaving for the next few weeks, the truth is,

a. I’m going to be excited and it will be fun and new and fresh again when he comes back and we have a plenty to catch up on


b. really nice to finally have a bed and all the pillows and blankets to myself (lol)

And one thing I would say about being sexy far away: I always shoot at least one text– many times when I think he is out and it’s inappropriate and might make him blush— and tell him that I just did, and/or am about to get myself off thinking about him. Even if I’m actually exhausted and the only thing im really getting off is the light and maybe the cat off my blankets. No, that’s not some sexual inuendo for pussy, that means the cat likes to sleep in the middle of my bed and if I want a good night’s sleep, I gotta give her the boot from the bed.

Next time you feel sexy, take some time to take a cute pic to use in the future! BUT be sure to exclude any identifiers, like the background of your room, your face, jewelry of yours that can easily be identified… Maybe he’s your trustworthy loving boyfriend now, but when he’s a drunken idiot and with his friends things might change.

You can take cute pics of your face and get sexy with it, but keep it separate.  Additionally: implied pics are good too! Just your fingertips reaching into your belt or maybe pulling your tank strap down are little tease-y pictures that make him think of you naked!

Which is the obvious goal. ;p

Happy clicking. …And happy flicking.

P.s. This is some photo people claim is Miley Cyrus?

Either way, I would do 2 things she did:

  1. Rock the bf’s shirt.  Hottness.
  2. Bleep out the actual parts. I dunno if she actually did it, but again I like the implied.

What I wouldn’t do:

Show that much of my house!!!! …there’s really no denying it with that awful wallpaper



Honesty is…

…Not always the best policy.  I’ll admit that.  But dishonesty leads to distrust.  And it becomes a slippery slope in a relationship.  NO ONE wants to feel like they’re being lied to.

And I do understand “white lies” on the very rare occasion.  AND, as for me, I am WAY too honest sometimes.  Maybe I could learn to keep my mouth shut.  Along those lines, not saying anything can also be construed as dishonest at times.  HOWEVER, and now your judgment obviously comes in: sometimes just not saying anything is the best option of all.

Here’s my scenario.  Dude I’d been seeing had a good girl friend, and being a territorial woman, I was a little jelly.  I mostly knew about it via Facebook cheesy-ness.  So one AM he was pretty adamant about getting me on the phone.  Finally I carved some time out for him and he insisted we hang.  “My friend Darcy got here last night and I want you guys to meet.” Before I could jump in, he continued: “She stayed in the guest room and I slept in my bed.”

I wasn’t really concerned because I trusted him and he’d sworn up and down that there had never been anything romantic between them, not to mention the fact that she was pregnant.  I laughed and told him I wasn’t worried about it, but it struck me as kind of funny and awkward that he had even thrown that info into the convo unsolicited, not to mention the girl is prego sans BF/ hubby.  I wouldn’t begrudge her (or him! his love for cuddling is proof of his overabundance of estrogen) a snuggle sesh!  I’d heard so many times that she and I would hit it off and become BFF instantaneously, so of course I jumped on it.  Plus she was a good friend of his, so I was stoked! =)

Well, I got there and he proudly showed me that he’d started painting the guest room the previous night! Yay!

………..fucking idiot.


The guys reading this are like ‘why?! That’s awesome– yeah for home improvements.’

We women with half a brain know that no mom to be is sleeping in a fucking freshly painted room.  Oh yeah, breathe those paint fumes in, baby.  Why not hit the pipe and guzzle a beer real quick too???

And, like I said, I don’t keep my fucking mouth shut.  I’m not sorry.  I WILL unapologetically call you out on making me look like a fucking idiot.  Obviously I confronted him and he said he’d slept on the couch and she’d slept in his bed.  It was “just easier” to say what he’d said.  WTF does that even mean? Oh yeah, it must have been difficult to squeak out that extra sentence.  I will say: Nice guy letting prego fatty sleep in your bed. However the fact that he’d thrown it in without my asking though is just– pardon the slang, but– retarded.  Why say anything at all about the sleeping arrangements?? AND then later he mentioned (in front of her) how comfortable the couch was.  Throwing that info into an unnatural part of the conversation also makes me believe you’re a bullshitter.

The point of this is: he said it in front of her, and the awkward silence followed.  The awkward silence then sat on said couch, smokng a cigarette and laughing silently at me.  I had to wonder: did he lie to me on the phone in front of her?? (?!?!) Ladies, DON’T STAND for being made to look like an idiot. I’m certainly not saying to nag or bitch on the regular, but call his dumb ass out when you catch him.  He will respect you more for that.  So: women, pick and choose your battles.  Men don’t get into the bad habbit of lying when it isn’t necessary.  And mostly, it’s beyond unnecessary.

I don’t want your friends to think you lie to me either, so DEFINITELY don’t pull that shit in front of your friends or mine.

Last thing: a good formula to use:

“I feel ____ when you ___ because…”

Try it.  Simple, straight forward, gets the point across.  Don’t belabor the point.  But use those woman instincts and go with your gut.  That woman intuition killed my relationship/ saved my life.  But that’s a story for another day. Much love ❤




I Was Running…

[Forest Gump reference, anyone?? …Okay well it’s a working title…]

So I really was running today.  Sometimes a guy will hear a runner coming up behind him and do the quick glance behind: it’s human nature… we want to know if it happens to be the next Godzilla going for a quick jog and coming up behind us.

Anyway— when guys see that it’s a possibly babe-a-lish chick sportin’ a sports bra, they often pull the double take. Again, I’m not flattering myself, I’m just saying I’m a girl sans shirt and I’m running… not to say i should audition for the 21st century edition of Baywatch, but if you don’t wear a tight enough sports bra, it’s like “girls on trampolines” in real life.

I wonder if, when the guy does the double-take check-out, sees her face, and doesn’t find the girl attractive, if he still checks her ass out when she runs past him. Does he say to himself, self, we could just kiss with our eyes closed and then do her from behind, so let’s just check? Or. Do you just check because you’re a man and you just like to look at ass? Or– do you not look because you don’t do butterfaces??


Just wondering.

…I think I’d look anyway.  Who am I kidding– I DO look anyway.

Peaches and Cream…

Well just the cream, really.

Then again, I guess the peaches in that song stand for vajayjay, in which case I would actually recommend peaches and sausage. As the Presidents of the United States of America may say, “Millions of peaches, peaches for me…”

Anyway, the few things I would like to say about using whipped cream in your sexual adventures are:

1. Go light. And, yes, this is advice that I (a) have heard in magazines a trillion times, and (b) unfortunately could not follow because I didn’t plan ahead. I got it on the fly, which is way more fun and exciting.  But don’t tell him about it– sometimes the “I’ve got a surprise for you…” isn’t nearly as exciting as just whipping out the whipped topping! And if he’s like most lovermen,  he loves food almost as much as (or definitely as much as… hey maybe sometimes more than) pussy. Anyway– I digress. Get light, and

2. Go lighter. Put way less on yourself than you want to. I just felt like he was eating a whole meal and forgot my nipple was even under there. Ha jk but, it was VERY nice to

3. Put it on his penis! It isn’t just for you! Now, don’t get me wrong. I LOVE the taste of good old fashioned hard cock. But even though I love to eat a corndawg by itself, why not put a little ketchup and mustard on it to spice it up? It really does make you want to lick it and suck it clean. You’re gettin’ in there at all angles like a fuckin’ porn star.  Delicious.

4. And speaking of clean, try to do this at a time that you can have a nice sensual shower afterwards. His beard smells like he ate an entire “Gotta Have It” Coldstone without hands right now, and I’m stickier than when I let him finish on my chest. No one could do this much damage.

I’m excited for you to tell him “dessert’s on me” ;p