When I was in Italy, I was walking down a spiral staircase that only had room for one. Two men were walking in the opposite direction. As they approached, I backed into the rail so they could pass. And the one guy, seriously, put his face into my chest. It was unbelievable. I was so shocked the only thing I could do was burst out laughing. Not an awkward laugh either -- a full-out-just-heard-the-funniest-thing-ever laugh. Then he winked. I guess we shared a moment.
Another story that comes to mind is when I was 19. In XXXXX an old bank was converted into a dance club and called Monopoly. The VIP area was the old safe. There is this one area that was always soooo packed. I swear guys would just stand there, groping all the girls who were trying to stream their way through. It was so dark in that corner you could never see who was in front of you. When a guy would grab my ass or chest, I would grab his hand and squeeze it so hard that I could feel his bones rub together. One time a guy screamed. I yelled out, 'That was me, in case you couldn't see.'"
This woman is my heroine for having some really amazing gropage-reaction techniques. I love it that they involve subtle & timely psychological intimidation, which, I'm sure, can sometimes be as equally effective as the physical one. Bravo.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
a crush that isn't there yet
A friend was telling me about not having crush on a guy yet... but feeling like she could/would have a crush on him soon. She said it was like an invisible wire, this no-crush-crush. She said an actual genuine crush is a wire: it's there, it's obvious -- at least to one person -- and it makes things strung and awkward, interestingly tense. Much like a wire. A no-crush-crush is ridiculous. It may be there, neither party knows for sure... but there is something. A pre-tension, a vibration in the air.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
I learn love from COSMO
I bought an issue of COSMOPOLITAN magazine yesterday. The reason why I bought it -- other than the article about the future of performance art and the three-part series on how Fallujah Battle May Carry Heavy Political Price for Iraqi Government -- was because of this coverline:
WHY YOU SHOULD BE A JEALOUS BITCH!
Here are some highlights from that particular article:
"[...], but it is okay to casually point out specific things that irk you -- like when a friend flirts with him or he repeatedly brings up a female coworker you distrust.
Just keep the comments directed at the chick's behaviour so you don't seem like you're trying to control him. Examples: 'I don't like the way she was hanging all over you' or "Could she show any more cleveage?'"
Nice.
The same issue also offers these tips:
From the article "Get a Conversation Rolling"
Before a social event, peruse the news and check out the daily Conversation Starter at cosmopolitan.com so you'll have fascinating things to talk about (just skip the heavy issues).
From "Get to Know the Inner You"
Consider: Who is your fave female celeb and why? She may possess qualities you hope to cultivate in yourself.
From "I Catch Cheaters for a Living" sidebar "Cheat-Proof Your Relationship"
Suggest getting together with his female friend or coworker if he seems to mention her a lot. The woman in question will be less likely to move in on your man if she knows (and likes) you.
WHY YOU SHOULD BE A JEALOUS BITCH!
Here are some highlights from that particular article:
"[...], but it is okay to casually point out specific things that irk you -- like when a friend flirts with him or he repeatedly brings up a female coworker you distrust.
Just keep the comments directed at the chick's behaviour so you don't seem like you're trying to control him. Examples: 'I don't like the way she was hanging all over you' or "Could she show any more cleveage?'"
Nice.
The same issue also offers these tips:
From the article "Get a Conversation Rolling"
Before a social event, peruse the news and check out the daily Conversation Starter at cosmopolitan.com so you'll have fascinating things to talk about (just skip the heavy issues).
From "Get to Know the Inner You"
Consider: Who is your fave female celeb and why? She may possess qualities you hope to cultivate in yourself.
From "I Catch Cheaters for a Living" sidebar "Cheat-Proof Your Relationship"
Suggest getting together with his female friend or coworker if he seems to mention her a lot. The woman in question will be less likely to move in on your man if she knows (and likes) you.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
libido loss
Was going to go to the Toronto's Everything About Sex convention this weekend but after clicking on "highlights" I lost any desire to do so. There was no way I was going to pay $20 for this even if I went... ironically? Ugh. It looked campy, sad, unsexy. Lots of people in the audience sported mullets. Not ironically.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
let's not talk about sex
There’s a club on Queen Street West called club Wicked. I read some reviews of the place when it first opened and – as perhaps expected – the reviews described a cheesy, painfully lets-have-fun-fun atmosphere, and an overall snickering vibe that wasn’t exactly sexy.
Allegedly, first timers have to fill out a form and are given a tour of the place. There’s the packed main room where things are usually nervous or, alternatively, nervously exhibitionistic. Upon your first visit, if the Wicked hosts declare that you’re hot stuff, you get a $60 membership to the special area where you can hook up. There's PVC, zippers and bad hair.
I’ve never been. I probably won’t go. It sounds awful. It sounds as if the only appropriate reaction is looking away.
But I’ve been to other places that most people would consider cheesy or giggle-making. I’ve chuckled too. I’m sure I got chuckled at. Once, in one of those places, I saw an old prof. He was wearing a skirt. I was wearing probably not much. We got over it quickly then and had a nice chat. I never went back to that club. I was too mortified. But I used the story to combat the funny-shit-that-happened-to-me anecdotes at parties. Perhaps by making fun, it relieved me from feeling guilty, silly, er, sexual?
Part of me thought that going to one of those places was somewhat embarrassing. It was stupid. What’s next? Club Wicked? The Everything About Sex convention? The point is that I don’t really know why, often, my own reaction has been embarrassment, giggles and eye-rolling. I don’t even know if I really was into that stuff (fetish) or if I used to go merely as an anthropologist. All I know is that I wold never casually mention what I used to do on weekends, back then. See, I think with talking about sex, there are three ways: ignoring it, overdoing it or overgiggling.
On the other hand, it’s always okay to endlessly yammer on about cottages, bad customer service at the Gap, yoga and shoes, IKEA and where to have yummiest lunches. It's okay to discuss RRSPs, Cuba, kittens and outfits.
"Looove your belt!"
"Twenty-percent off at the Gap."
"And how is Timmy?"
"Oh, he's finally opening up to the idea of masturbating in front of me."
Talking about sex is like dealing with a worrisome, drunken uncle at the Thanksgiving dinner. You only have these options: Kick him out, laugh at him or just pretend he’s not really peeing in your pansies.
Allegedly, first timers have to fill out a form and are given a tour of the place. There’s the packed main room where things are usually nervous or, alternatively, nervously exhibitionistic. Upon your first visit, if the Wicked hosts declare that you’re hot stuff, you get a $60 membership to the special area where you can hook up. There's PVC, zippers and bad hair.
I’ve never been. I probably won’t go. It sounds awful. It sounds as if the only appropriate reaction is looking away.
But I’ve been to other places that most people would consider cheesy or giggle-making. I’ve chuckled too. I’m sure I got chuckled at. Once, in one of those places, I saw an old prof. He was wearing a skirt. I was wearing probably not much. We got over it quickly then and had a nice chat. I never went back to that club. I was too mortified. But I used the story to combat the funny-shit-that-happened-to-me anecdotes at parties. Perhaps by making fun, it relieved me from feeling guilty, silly, er, sexual?
Part of me thought that going to one of those places was somewhat embarrassing. It was stupid. What’s next? Club Wicked? The Everything About Sex convention? The point is that I don’t really know why, often, my own reaction has been embarrassment, giggles and eye-rolling. I don’t even know if I really was into that stuff (fetish) or if I used to go merely as an anthropologist. All I know is that I wold never casually mention what I used to do on weekends, back then. See, I think with talking about sex, there are three ways: ignoring it, overdoing it or overgiggling.
On the other hand, it’s always okay to endlessly yammer on about cottages, bad customer service at the Gap, yoga and shoes, IKEA and where to have yummiest lunches. It's okay to discuss RRSPs, Cuba, kittens and outfits.
"Looove your belt!"
"Twenty-percent off at the Gap."
"And how is Timmy?"
"Oh, he's finally opening up to the idea of masturbating in front of me."
Talking about sex is like dealing with a worrisome, drunken uncle at the Thanksgiving dinner. You only have these options: Kick him out, laugh at him or just pretend he’s not really peeing in your pansies.
Friday, October 12, 2007
should I stay or should I go
When is a good time to leave your lover?
Ally :
If you catch him "having relations" with a gerbil. That's kind of a huge sign and you should probably leave. ASAP. Like yesterday.
Leanne:
When they tell you to put on bug spray so you don't get West Nile because "I'm not gonna push you around in a wheelchair." That, or when you find parking tickets with the address of a friend's house on them dated to 5 a.m.
Joshua:
When they say they don’t love you any more, and you laugh because you think it’s one of their jokes, but actually they're being serious...and you start crying and then they start hitting you. when that exact sequence of events occurs it is a strong indication.
Bunmi:
When you have nothing to say to each other and you just don't laugh any more. And when you feel like you are just dragging each other down... down... down...
Krista:
When the pain of staying with them is greater than the pain of leaving. Or when you know in your heart of hearts that you're no longer in love with them and chances are that will never be rekindled.
Brian:
A good sign is when they ask you to make room in the closet for their new partner's stuff...
Ally :
If you catch him "having relations" with a gerbil. That's kind of a huge sign and you should probably leave. ASAP. Like yesterday.
Leanne:
When they tell you to put on bug spray so you don't get West Nile because "I'm not gonna push you around in a wheelchair." That, or when you find parking tickets with the address of a friend's house on them dated to 5 a.m.
Joshua:
When they say they don’t love you any more, and you laugh because you think it’s one of their jokes, but actually they're being serious...and you start crying and then they start hitting you. when that exact sequence of events occurs it is a strong indication.
Bunmi:
When you have nothing to say to each other and you just don't laugh any more. And when you feel like you are just dragging each other down... down... down...
Krista:
When the pain of staying with them is greater than the pain of leaving. Or when you know in your heart of hearts that you're no longer in love with them and chances are that will never be rekindled.
Brian:
A good sign is when they ask you to make room in the closet for their new partner's stuff...
Sunday, October 7, 2007
groping part 2
Three groping stories from a friend:
"I went out last night and on my way out of the bar, a guy stopped me. He put his hand on my hips, and then whispered in my ear: 'You're the most beautiful woman here.' You'll laugh at this, but I just looked at him and said: 'Yes.' Then I walked away. Guess he thought he was getting an insecure girl who would buckle at the complement.... not me.
"I went out last night and on my way out of the bar, a guy stopped me. He put his hand on my hips, and then whispered in my ear: 'You're the most beautiful woman here.' You'll laugh at this, but I just looked at him and said: 'Yes.' Then I walked away. Guess he thought he was getting an insecure girl who would buckle at the complement.... not me.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
groping
I was at a big sparkly event and a guy in a suit groped me. I thought nothing of it. Later on that evening another guy ran his finger from the inside of my elbow, down to my hand, which he squeezed and released. Maybe he was on X. It's possible that lots of people ate pills to prep & felt extra affectionate that way. The place was sexy, clubby, the sort of a place where there was an equal amount of flashy testosterone as there was silicone.
Two gropers in one night!
Though it wasn't just the gropers that made me reflect about this occurrence. It was my own attitude, too. It was: The thinking nothing of it. The lighthearted reportage of it to my partner after we left.
I don't go to clubs much any more. I don't know if this is a casual situation that girls get groped and (some) guys grope because they know that it's a safe, er, noncommittal (puke) way to touch a girl. Maybe it is expected in a club. Because, honestly, what girl is going to react in a flash and make a big hysterical deal out of it? By the time it's done & over with, the groper's disappeared into the crowd, the girl is still processing if it really happened and maybe even -- similarly to me -- is entertaining an obscenely insane thought: Oh well, I guess that douchebag really, really liked me.
Here's the thing:
As my partner pointed out that quick and accidental seeming gropage is a really cowardly, aggressive thing to do.
I will add: If you are a groper , it also means that you have a very tiny dick.
It's as honourable as releasing a deadly fart in a classroom and making googly eyes at the person who smelled you out.
But it is also me -- the person who chooses to ignore or is scared to make a fuss that should learn to not put up with your sticky little-dick hands. I am not sure what the appropriate response is and how to activate it right away next time the gropage happens but I will do my best to at least announce loud & clear that you, dear groper, are a complete douchebag.
Two gropers in one night!
Though it wasn't just the gropers that made me reflect about this occurrence. It was my own attitude, too. It was: The thinking nothing of it. The lighthearted reportage of it to my partner after we left.
I don't go to clubs much any more. I don't know if this is a casual situation that girls get groped and (some) guys grope because they know that it's a safe, er, noncommittal (puke) way to touch a girl. Maybe it is expected in a club. Because, honestly, what girl is going to react in a flash and make a big hysterical deal out of it? By the time it's done & over with, the groper's disappeared into the crowd, the girl is still processing if it really happened and maybe even -- similarly to me -- is entertaining an obscenely insane thought: Oh well, I guess that douchebag really, really liked me.
Here's the thing:
As my partner pointed out that quick and accidental seeming gropage is a really cowardly, aggressive thing to do.
I will add: If you are a groper , it also means that you have a very tiny dick.
It's as honourable as releasing a deadly fart in a classroom and making googly eyes at the person who smelled you out.
But it is also me -- the person who chooses to ignore or is scared to make a fuss that should learn to not put up with your sticky little-dick hands. I am not sure what the appropriate response is and how to activate it right away next time the gropage happens but I will do my best to at least announce loud & clear that you, dear groper, are a complete douchebag.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
shame, shame, shame
I read something about shame the other day. I don’t know where I read it. Maybe I heard it on TV. I don’t have a TV. I read it somewhere then. I apologize for not remembering where. It seems that sometimes I only have an unfailing memory for random things. Such as remembering breeds of dogs.
The thing that I heard/read about shame was that everyone has their level of sexual shame. Meaning that even the most explicit, shameless, comfortable-with-sexuality person will eventually encounter something that will make them pause, blush. (I do not mean sexual acts, which are generally considered taboo, violent, illegal and retarded.)
I am talking about a situation where we have two (hold on) consenting, hot-for-each-other adults who are naked or partly naked together.
So there we have them, naked, and they are doing things to each other, which makes at least one of them squirm or scream in delight and then, all of the sudden, the blush-causing one says, “Hey, how come there’s only two of us here?”
Whoa.
Or there have the three of them, naked, and they are doing things to each other, which makes at least one (or two) of them squirm or scream in delight and then, all of the sudden, the blush-causing one person says, “Hey, you know how I told you I really like coming on women’s feet?”
Whoa. Whoa.
And so on.
Both examples that I gave are perhaps mildly risky. Thou I don’t really know. It’s not like anyone talks about sex ever. We talk about what we had for lunch or what TV shows we like to watch so I have no idea if these sorts of things (threesomes, ejaculating on feet) would be blush-causing. I am just guessing.
Okay but THE POINT IS.
The point is that it’s interesting that levels of shame are individual so that one person’s casual threesome is another person’s baddest taboo.
Maybe it's not that interesting. But when I heard/ read that about shame it made me think about what my own, current level of sexual shame was.
The First Annual Playboy U College Sex Survey
During the summer we polled the students of Playboy U on a variety of sex, relationship and dating questions. The results appeared in the October college issue of Playboy along with a student roundtable on the state of sex on campus. Here is what we learned:
The thing that I heard/read about shame was that everyone has their level of sexual shame. Meaning that even the most explicit, shameless, comfortable-with-sexuality person will eventually encounter something that will make them pause, blush. (I do not mean sexual acts, which are generally considered taboo, violent, illegal and retarded.)
I am talking about a situation where we have two (hold on) consenting, hot-for-each-other adults who are naked or partly naked together.
So there we have them, naked, and they are doing things to each other, which makes at least one of them squirm or scream in delight and then, all of the sudden, the blush-causing one says, “Hey, how come there’s only two of us here?”
Whoa.
Or there have the three of them, naked, and they are doing things to each other, which makes at least one (or two) of them squirm or scream in delight and then, all of the sudden, the blush-causing one person says, “Hey, you know how I told you I really like coming on women’s feet?”
Whoa. Whoa.
And so on.
Both examples that I gave are perhaps mildly risky. Thou I don’t really know. It’s not like anyone talks about sex ever. We talk about what we had for lunch or what TV shows we like to watch so I have no idea if these sorts of things (threesomes, ejaculating on feet) would be blush-causing. I am just guessing.
Okay but THE POINT IS.
The point is that it’s interesting that levels of shame are individual so that one person’s casual threesome is another person’s baddest taboo.
Maybe it's not that interesting. But when I heard/ read that about shame it made me think about what my own, current level of sexual shame was.
The First Annual Playboy U College Sex Survey
During the summer we polled the students of Playboy U on a variety of sex, relationship and dating questions. The results appeared in the October college issue of Playboy along with a student roundtable on the state of sex on campus. Here is what we learned:
bad behaviour
female friend: Go to the party. I want you to see his new girlfriend.
me: Why?
female friend: To spy for me.
me: Okay.
Okay?
me: Why?
female friend: To spy for me.
me: Okay.
Okay?
Monday, October 1, 2007
biology
Viagra may make a man more loving as well as improve his physical performance, research suggests.
Viagra was found to boost levels of oxytocin.Scientists have discovered that the impotence drug can boost levels of a "cuddle chemical" in the brain.
Viagra was found to boost levels of oxytocin.Scientists have discovered that the impotence drug can boost levels of a "cuddle chemical" in the brain.
Oxytocin, also known as the "love hormone", is thought to promote romantic feelings and bonding between couples.
The hormone is released during orgasm in both men and women and has been linked to sexual arousal. It also plays important roles in childbirth and breast-feeding.
Viagra, the brand name of the drug sildenafil, overcomes impotence by blocking an enzyme that limits blood flow to the penis.
The same protein, phosphodiesterase type 5, also acts as a brake to regulate oxytocin release in the brain. Viagra eases the brake off and allows cells in the brain's pituitary gland to generate more of the hormone [...]
The same protein, phosphodiesterase type 5, also acts as a brake to regulate oxytocin release in the brain. Viagra eases the brake off and allows cells in the brain's pituitary gland to generate more of the hormone [...]
-Telegraph
Or just get him to get his wisdom teeth pulled out and come home with a solid prescription for Oxy and you'll have a regular Care Bear on your hands.
But seriously. It is fascinating how much -- if not entirely -- we are ruled by biology(meaning: brains, hormones, drugs, etc.). My partner and I sometimes talk about this stuff:
Me: I'm obsessed with celebrities because as a woman I am predisposed to be naturally interested in things like relationships. It's just my biology.
Him: So is peeing. You don't pee on the street just because your biology is saying that you have to go now. Just because it's biology it doesn't mean you can't control it.
Me: We need to buy your father a present. His birthday is coming up.
Him: I am a boy. I don't remember dates.
Me: Biology. You should fight against it.
Me: Biology. You should fight against it.
Him: Sorry, what were you saying?
Thursday, September 27, 2007
257 replies to my ad on craigslist
I have done it. I am not embarrassed by it. It’s cool and a little risky, too, which is also exciting. In my previous life, I posted an ad on Craigslist that said I was bored but not looking to be in a relationship. I posted the ad on Wednesday and by Sunday I had to remove it. I got more than 250 replies. I didn’t post a picture. But I did get a lot of pictures. And not just pictures of faces or private jets (yes) or puppies. Hey, why not, you got it, flaunt it, I guess. Ahem. In any case, there were so many replies that I stopped opening my messages after 50 or so. Here are a few that I’ve opened. I have removed bits that could possibly identify the repliers. Also, for the record, I do feel slightly guilty for posting these. But not guilty enough to rob you off the pleasure of sharing my Inbox with you:
I am attached and looking for some fun, NSA and discreet. NOT looking to change your situation or mine. I would very much like to see a few pictures of you and chat. I work downtown and live in the east. Im at XXX XX and XXXXXXXXX. 32, 5'10, short blonde hair, brown eyes, 220lbs in shape. I have attached my favourite pic, will send more and better pics if you reply...I hope you do. Ciao 4 now :)
Hi, my name is dennis and i am 26 5'10 175 nice body and looking for the same thing you are,i am involved with someone but looking to play on the side,i am very openminded and love to try new things, if you like you can call me 416 XXX XXXX
I'll tell you a bit about myself. I'm 6ft2 170lbs lean/reasonably fit 33 years old and married. I don't see the significant other as much as I'd like and I'm far hornier than her at any rate... So some side play is definitely in order. However, I don't plan on changing my situation so discretion's important to me. I don't have any piercings/tats I'd have dark hair, but I shave my head and wear a goatee. No pressure, no strings... Just some good times. You can always try catching me on MSN as XXXXXXXX @ yahoo. com
I would take you from behind and make you want more. I am willing and able, well built and handsome.
Heya sexy, how ya doing?? :-)
I was hoping that you might keep me in mind for the next time you want to have some fun. :-) I'm open minded, always up for a lot of fun, have a lot of stamina, and know that we would have a great time together, so write me back. :-)
I'm 6'4" tall, weigh 190 lbs, short brownish hair (turns reddish in the summer, VERY dark brown eyes (almost black), and I've got one more measurement, curious?? ;-)
[Pics of a private jet attached. Yes, "jet" as in "plane".]
So, my deal in a nutshell: I'm married, 34, a professional in a creative industry, well-read, intelligent (and actually don't suffer stupid people with grace or patience). Open-minded, but not a man-whore. I have a fairly dry, sardonic sense of humour. At risk of coming off as arrogant (I hate arrogance), I suspect you won't be too disappointed physically...I've done some small modeling gigs (no, don't look for me in the Sears catalogue), and been told I'm good-looking (by people other than those I'm related to). I'm 6'1", 200 pounds, and a still a competitive athlete.
Saw your CL post. I'm 36, married but my eyes are wondering. Do I want to change my current status? Do I want to change yours? Certainly not. So why am I doing this? Cuz, if I don't do something for myself quick, I think I might go nuts... postal.... just lose it.... anywho, so here I am.
Hi there... Saw your ad on Craigslist... I'll be staying at an airport hotel tonight so... if you're looking for a little NSA excitement... let me know.
If you'll get a chance to read this, (after syphoning thru hundreds of responses and penis pics), hello, my name is E and I'd like to apply for the multiple positions of ongoing NSA guy. References from various committed women will not be provided, but I can assure you that they were quite happy with the experience.I am older, 40, well-established, own my own home (XXXX XXXX area). Not looking for a commitment, just a little bit flirting, a little bit of kissing and possibly a nice ongoing 'black hole', a place where you can disappear for a few hours, come back happier, a little sore and a lot more mischievous or evil.
I am attached and looking for some fun, NSA and discreet. NOT looking to change your situation or mine. I would very much like to see a few pictures of you and chat. I work downtown and live in the east. Im at XXX XX and XXXXXXXXX. 32, 5'10, short blonde hair, brown eyes, 220lbs in shape. I have attached my favourite pic, will send more and better pics if you reply...I hope you do. Ciao 4 now :)
Hi, my name is dennis and i am 26 5'10 175 nice body and looking for the same thing you are,i am involved with someone but looking to play on the side,i am very openminded and love to try new things, if you like you can call me 416 XXX XXXX
I'll tell you a bit about myself. I'm 6ft2 170lbs lean/reasonably fit 33 years old and married. I don't see the significant other as much as I'd like and I'm far hornier than her at any rate... So some side play is definitely in order. However, I don't plan on changing my situation so discretion's important to me. I don't have any piercings/tats I'd have dark hair, but I shave my head and wear a goatee. No pressure, no strings... Just some good times. You can always try catching me on MSN as XXXXXXXX @ yahoo. com
I would take you from behind and make you want more. I am willing and able, well built and handsome.
Heya sexy, how ya doing?? :-)
I was hoping that you might keep me in mind for the next time you want to have some fun. :-) I'm open minded, always up for a lot of fun, have a lot of stamina, and know that we would have a great time together, so write me back. :-)
I'm 6'4" tall, weigh 190 lbs, short brownish hair (turns reddish in the summer, VERY dark brown eyes (almost black), and I've got one more measurement, curious?? ;-)
[Pics of a private jet attached. Yes, "jet" as in "plane".]
So, my deal in a nutshell: I'm married, 34, a professional in a creative industry, well-read, intelligent (and actually don't suffer stupid people with grace or patience). Open-minded, but not a man-whore. I have a fairly dry, sardonic sense of humour. At risk of coming off as arrogant (I hate arrogance), I suspect you won't be too disappointed physically...I've done some small modeling gigs (no, don't look for me in the Sears catalogue), and been told I'm good-looking (by people other than those I'm related to). I'm 6'1", 200 pounds, and a still a competitive athlete.
Saw your CL post. I'm 36, married but my eyes are wondering. Do I want to change my current status? Do I want to change yours? Certainly not. So why am I doing this? Cuz, if I don't do something for myself quick, I think I might go nuts... postal.... just lose it.... anywho, so here I am.
Hi there... Saw your ad on Craigslist... I'll be staying at an airport hotel tonight so... if you're looking for a little NSA excitement... let me know.
If you'll get a chance to read this, (after syphoning thru hundreds of responses and penis pics), hello, my name is E and I'd like to apply for the multiple positions of ongoing NSA guy. References from various committed women will not be provided, but I can assure you that they were quite happy with the experience.I am older, 40, well-established, own my own home (XXXX XXXX area). Not looking for a commitment, just a little bit flirting, a little bit of kissing and possibly a nice ongoing 'black hole', a place where you can disappear for a few hours, come back happier, a little sore and a lot more mischievous or evil.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
lost in translation
I would like to begin our love making at breakfast.
The fact that my husband brings me toast and coffee to bed means that we’ve already begun our foreplay.
He’s going to be sweet and loving all day and I won’t hear any complains about work or long debates about what’s important to invest in, what’s not… I don’t want him to turn on the sports channel as soon he comes home from work. In the evening, my husband will prepare the supper, complete with candles and will shower me with compliments. He will listen to what I say to him and he’ll be interested.
After the supper – and two glasses of wine – he will start by kissing the back of my neck and tickling me behind my ear. Then he will carry me to the bedroom where he will undress me slowly and gently. He will kiss me all over once I’m naked. But starting at my face! And I want him to kiss my lips long and passionately. Then he can go down on me but he can’t rush it. It has to last at least 15 minutes.
Next, he will enter me, from the front so that he can continue to kiss me and then after some time, he can turn on his back and I will sit on his penis. We well make love slowly and wonderfully and he will be kissing my breasts and telling me how much he loves me…
I would like for my wife to act like a professional whore. I want her to be vulgar, perverted, full of lust. I want her to let herself be made love to in a threesome, to be satisfied when another woman licks her, to do the same thing to the other woman. I don’t want her to get upset when I am with the other woman, who will also lick my wife while I make love to her her. I want her to yell, "F*ck me hard" and so on.
I also want to see her getting on with two men. I want her to scream with pleasure.
I want her to always be ready for sex.
I want us to do it in her office, in the garage, to have her suck my penis in the car and at in the movie theatre. I want to spray all over her face and her tits. I want her to be dressed like a slut in a mini skirt and with no panties. I want her to wear pantyhose and high heels to bed. I want us to do it while watching porn and to have her tell me that she’s imagining I am with the chick on the screen.
Finally, I want her to not be upset that I really want to be with that dumb secretary from work. I would like for them to talk to each other. Seriously.
I found this in a Polish magazine last year. I translated it but, moronically, did not write down where I saw it first. I also made small changes. I replaced the male's accounts of "fuck" with "make love," got rid of "cunt," "cock" and the account of anal sex.
The fact that my husband brings me toast and coffee to bed means that we’ve already begun our foreplay.
He’s going to be sweet and loving all day and I won’t hear any complains about work or long debates about what’s important to invest in, what’s not… I don’t want him to turn on the sports channel as soon he comes home from work. In the evening, my husband will prepare the supper, complete with candles and will shower me with compliments. He will listen to what I say to him and he’ll be interested.
After the supper – and two glasses of wine – he will start by kissing the back of my neck and tickling me behind my ear. Then he will carry me to the bedroom where he will undress me slowly and gently. He will kiss me all over once I’m naked. But starting at my face! And I want him to kiss my lips long and passionately. Then he can go down on me but he can’t rush it. It has to last at least 15 minutes.
Next, he will enter me, from the front so that he can continue to kiss me and then after some time, he can turn on his back and I will sit on his penis. We well make love slowly and wonderfully and he will be kissing my breasts and telling me how much he loves me…
I would like for my wife to act like a professional whore. I want her to be vulgar, perverted, full of lust. I want her to let herself be made love to in a threesome, to be satisfied when another woman licks her, to do the same thing to the other woman. I don’t want her to get upset when I am with the other woman, who will also lick my wife while I make love to her her. I want her to yell, "F*ck me hard" and so on.
I also want to see her getting on with two men. I want her to scream with pleasure.
I want her to always be ready for sex.
I want us to do it in her office, in the garage, to have her suck my penis in the car and at in the movie theatre. I want to spray all over her face and her tits. I want her to be dressed like a slut in a mini skirt and with no panties. I want her to wear pantyhose and high heels to bed. I want us to do it while watching porn and to have her tell me that she’s imagining I am with the chick on the screen.
Finally, I want her to not be upset that I really want to be with that dumb secretary from work. I would like for them to talk to each other. Seriously.
I found this in a Polish magazine last year. I translated it but, moronically, did not write down where I saw it first. I also made small changes. I replaced the male's accounts of "fuck" with "make love," got rid of "cunt," "cock" and the account of anal sex.
Monday, September 24, 2007
oh I don't know
oh because it's Canadian
oh because it's a sound people make when they come
oh!
oh because it's a sound when you're disappointed
oh is also a sound of shock
There are a few interesting, well-written sex blogs that I read from time to time. Naturally, there are million sex blogs out there. People often start them when they have a new lover as they need a place to shout out their love to the world. Or their desires, crushes. Those blogs, they don't necessarily have to be explicit. Some blogs I've read are just poems. Some are complaints. Some praise different kinds of panties the new lover wears.
Often, as with relationships their novelty wears off.
Then they get abandoned.
All these lonely, broken-hearted blogs. {sigh}
I was browsing dirty blogs and found this:
Kinky Farm Wife
What happened there?!
oh because it's a sound people make when they come
oh!
oh because it's a sound when you're disappointed
oh is also a sound of shock
There are a few interesting, well-written sex blogs that I read from time to time. Naturally, there are million sex blogs out there. People often start them when they have a new lover as they need a place to shout out their love to the world. Or their desires, crushes. Those blogs, they don't necessarily have to be explicit. Some blogs I've read are just poems. Some are complaints. Some praise different kinds of panties the new lover wears.
Often, as with relationships their novelty wears off.
Then they get abandoned.
All these lonely, broken-hearted blogs. {sigh}
I was browsing dirty blogs and found this:
Kinky Farm Wife
What happened there?!
Friday, September 21, 2007
food & sex
The limbic system is responsbile for regulation of basic needs such as hunger or thirst and primal activities related to sex and emotions. So, while eating keeps us living, fucking... well, it's what got us here in the first place.
Named after Aphrodite, the Greek mythology's goddess of love, fertility and beauty, aphrodisciacs are a little bit of a myth as well. There have been no conclusive studies done to confirm their influence on sexual performance. Since 1989 it's been illegal to use the word "aphrodisiac" for over-the-counter potions. Researches suggest aphrodisiacs word because we believe they do.
Here are some aphrodisiac facts:
Ancient aphrodisiac list included turnips, lizard flesh and river snails but also arugula, orchid bulbs and pistachio nuts.
Casanova fed his conquests oysters to hone their arousal. Oysters contain lots of zinc, which is reponsible for testosterone production.
Greeks & Romans gorged on delicious snacks before fucking.
Chinese women sprinkled nutmeg on themselves as an aphrodisiac.
Known as "love apple," ( after the French name, pomme d'amour) tomato was once sought-after libido booster. Allegedly, having observed the tomato-loving Catholics drowning in endless offspring, Puritans deemed the lusty fruit "poisonous". Tomato effectively disappeared from the British diet.
-rephrased from my old fit to be tied column for the Nutrition 2006 issue of Oxygen magazine
Named after Aphrodite, the Greek mythology's goddess of love, fertility and beauty, aphrodisciacs are a little bit of a myth as well. There have been no conclusive studies done to confirm their influence on sexual performance. Since 1989 it's been illegal to use the word "aphrodisiac" for over-the-counter potions. Researches suggest aphrodisiacs word because we believe they do.
Here are some aphrodisiac facts:
Ancient aphrodisiac list included turnips, lizard flesh and river snails but also arugula, orchid bulbs and pistachio nuts.
Casanova fed his conquests oysters to hone their arousal. Oysters contain lots of zinc, which is reponsible for testosterone production.
Greeks & Romans gorged on delicious snacks before fucking.
Chinese women sprinkled nutmeg on themselves as an aphrodisiac.
Known as "love apple," ( after the French name, pomme d'amour) tomato was once sought-after libido booster. Allegedly, having observed the tomato-loving Catholics drowning in endless offspring, Puritans deemed the lusty fruit "poisonous". Tomato effectively disappeared from the British diet.
-rephrased from my old fit to be tied column for the Nutrition 2006 issue of Oxygen magazine
Thursday, September 20, 2007
facebook sex groups to join
ADDICTED TO: SEX, SHOPPING AND DANCING
description: If you're a girl that loves to shop, likes to dance at clubs, ejoys sex and likes to share things with other people without judgement... this group is for you :-)
(omg omg omg!)
addected to sex
description: I like to have sex or, cant stop thinking about sex
(hey, addected to sex has 333 members! What a bunch of addects...)
Dude! Sex is underrated!
no description
(dude like totally!)
IF THIS GROUP GETS 10,000,000 PEOPLE MY BF WILL HAVE SEX WITH A COW
description: ok people just get as many people as possible...lets get this partayyyy started...
(so far 57 members)
Its just sex
no description
(and its furowed brow... I'm not a poet but I am really inspired right now.)
No more bad sex
For all those people out there, who have had to deal with bad lovers.
(their tag is: bad sex sucks.)
People trying to get a sex buddy(s) in Brampton, ON
(two members so far... )
Sex in the Hummer
description: Hummer Riding - too kewl to be publiclized/ not for those shitheads who wants to hav sex in a car/an inside joke that pathetic people would be unknown to
(five very exclusive members, you pathetic person)
YoU kNoW the SEX was good wHen Sh*% GeTs BrOkEn
this group is for all you people who are busy fixing your furniture/ picking up pieces of objects all around your house.
Only SERIOUS fuck buddies in Toronto wanted
description: If you are a woman who wants to find a sexy male (or woman) for great casual sex in the GTA..this group is for you. If you are married, engaged, involved, single or whatever then join us. Please keep in mind..only those SERIOUS about meeting someone need apply.
(SERIOUS)
Abstinate from Marriage until Sex
description: This group is for those who are choosing not to get married until they have sex with their significant other. This group welcomes all virgins, singles and hideously deformed people to chat about their experiences. Please feel free to express yourself, and to comment freely about the life path you have chosen. If your significant other is a pain and the ass and won't put out, then, by all means, let us lend a shoulder for you to seek homage on.
(How about Abstinate Addects?)
and one more (I'm getting bored now), to conclude:
Addicted to Sex, Chapstick, and Texting
description: Are you addicted to sex, chapstick, and texting. Are these 3 things you just cant live with out?
description: If you're a girl that loves to shop, likes to dance at clubs, ejoys sex and likes to share things with other people without judgement... this group is for you :-)
(omg omg omg!)
addected to sex
description: I like to have sex or, cant stop thinking about sex
(hey, addected to sex has 333 members! What a bunch of addects...)
Dude! Sex is underrated!
no description
(dude like totally!)
IF THIS GROUP GETS 10,000,000 PEOPLE MY BF WILL HAVE SEX WITH A COW
description: ok people just get as many people as possible...lets get this partayyyy started...
(so far 57 members)
Its just sex
no description
(and its furowed brow... I'm not a poet but I am really inspired right now.)
No more bad sex
For all those people out there, who have had to deal with bad lovers.
(their tag is: bad sex sucks.)
People trying to get a sex buddy(s) in Brampton, ON
(two members so far... )
Sex in the Hummer
description: Hummer Riding - too kewl to be publiclized/ not for those shitheads who wants to hav sex in a car/an inside joke that pathetic people would be unknown to
(five very exclusive members, you pathetic person)
YoU kNoW the SEX was good wHen Sh*% GeTs BrOkEn
this group is for all you people who are busy fixing your furniture/ picking up pieces of objects all around your house.
Only SERIOUS fuck buddies in Toronto wanted
description: If you are a woman who wants to find a sexy male (or woman) for great casual sex in the GTA..this group is for you. If you are married, engaged, involved, single or whatever then join us. Please keep in mind..only those SERIOUS about meeting someone need apply.
(SERIOUS)
Abstinate from Marriage until Sex
description: This group is for those who are choosing not to get married until they have sex with their significant other. This group welcomes all virgins, singles and hideously deformed people to chat about their experiences. Please feel free to express yourself, and to comment freely about the life path you have chosen. If your significant other is a pain and the ass and won't put out, then, by all means, let us lend a shoulder for you to seek homage on.
(How about Abstinate Addects?)
and one more (I'm getting bored now), to conclude:
Addicted to Sex, Chapstick, and Texting
description: Are you addicted to sex, chapstick, and texting. Are these 3 things you just cant live with out?
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
i'm in love
I’m seeking a like-minded woman with whom to share a disastrous 3 to 9 - 29
Reply to: pers-424614144@craigslist.orgDate: 2007-09-17, 10:51AM
I’m seeking a like-minded woman with whom to share a disastrous 3 to 9 month relationship, ending in acrimony, emotional chaos, and possibly legal proceedings. My name is Dave. I’m 29 years old, fairly well educated, and I hold down a good job and am pretty stable. I’m told I’m fairly good looking, but I’ll let you be the judge of that. I’m generally caring and very honest.
I am looking for an attractive female who will at first give me obsessive love, praise, and devotion - but whose paranoia, self-loathing, and fear of rejection and abandonment will eventually lead her to alternately push me away and pull me closer in a love/hate cycle that will lead to infidelity, consensual sexual violence, and the inevitable emotional breakdown of one or the other party - or, if we’re lucky, both! You should: be 25 to 35 years old; have a history of short, intense, drama-driven relationships; enjoy degrading and dehumanizing sex; have undergone negative psychiatric evaluations in the past; and be willing to threaten self-harm and/or annihilation as a weapon to control your partner and make them stay with you and care for you.
Although not completely necessary, I would prefer women:
with nice smiles; who have larger than average breasts; who are married or already in unstable relationships; who drink to forget; and who have had a previous established diagnosis of borderline or dependent personality disorder or bipolar affective disorder - or who are currently taking lithium carbonate, SSRIs, or tricyclic antidepressants. If you think you meet these requirements (and wow, I’m getting excited just writing them!), please don’t hesitate to get back to me as soon as possible. In the meantime, thank you for reading my advert, and do take care. All the best
Location: Toronto
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Reply to: pers-424614144@craigslist.orgDate: 2007-09-17, 10:51AM
I’m seeking a like-minded woman with whom to share a disastrous 3 to 9 month relationship, ending in acrimony, emotional chaos, and possibly legal proceedings. My name is Dave. I’m 29 years old, fairly well educated, and I hold down a good job and am pretty stable. I’m told I’m fairly good looking, but I’ll let you be the judge of that. I’m generally caring and very honest.
I am looking for an attractive female who will at first give me obsessive love, praise, and devotion - but whose paranoia, self-loathing, and fear of rejection and abandonment will eventually lead her to alternately push me away and pull me closer in a love/hate cycle that will lead to infidelity, consensual sexual violence, and the inevitable emotional breakdown of one or the other party - or, if we’re lucky, both! You should: be 25 to 35 years old; have a history of short, intense, drama-driven relationships; enjoy degrading and dehumanizing sex; have undergone negative psychiatric evaluations in the past; and be willing to threaten self-harm and/or annihilation as a weapon to control your partner and make them stay with you and care for you.
Although not completely necessary, I would prefer women:
with nice smiles; who have larger than average breasts; who are married or already in unstable relationships; who drink to forget; and who have had a previous established diagnosis of borderline or dependent personality disorder or bipolar affective disorder - or who are currently taking lithium carbonate, SSRIs, or tricyclic antidepressants. If you think you meet these requirements (and wow, I’m getting excited just writing them!), please don’t hesitate to get back to me as soon as possible. In the meantime, thank you for reading my advert, and do take care. All the best
Location: Toronto
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Sunday, September 16, 2007
the premiere dating site for sugar mommies, daddies, babies
There are some respectable women out there who sleep with nice, wealthy gentleman in exchange for financial help. These women would never call themselves escorts, God forbid they would call themselves that. They would call themselves something else. Independent, perhaps. Clever. Modern...
(There are many women out there, too, who fuck to marry nice, wealthy gentleman, purely for materialistic reasons. This is not a novel concept. It's been around for centuries. It may sound offensive to suggest women do this in the current... post-feminist (?) age, but they do. This time around, it's not their father who arranges such settlements, but they do it themselves. This happens if the gentleman isn't married already, of course. If he is, well, then you just make an arrangement.)
There's a website for making money-for-sex arrangements that is NOT an escort service (it is NOT, you hear me!). It's called SeekingArrangement and it's, "the premier Sugar Daddy Dating site. We are a matchmaking website for wealthy benefactors, and attractive guys & gals."
The founder of this (NOT an escort service) website is bluntly nonsentimental about why his venture works: "Wealth and sexual attraction are two very strong motivating factors," says Brandon Wade, the webmaster of SeekingArrangement.com. "While other mainstream dating websites are plagued with serial online daters who are often players, our members know exactly what they want." (from press release: http://www.prweb.com/releases/2007/4/prweb517866.htm)
They want pretty pussy to pay for.
(There are many women out there, too, who fuck to marry nice, wealthy gentleman, purely for materialistic reasons. This is not a novel concept. It's been around for centuries. It may sound offensive to suggest women do this in the current... post-feminist (?) age, but they do. This time around, it's not their father who arranges such settlements, but they do it themselves. This happens if the gentleman isn't married already, of course. If he is, well, then you just make an arrangement.)
There's a website for making money-for-sex arrangements that is NOT an escort service (it is NOT, you hear me!). It's called SeekingArrangement and it's, "the premier Sugar Daddy Dating site. We are a matchmaking website for wealthy benefactors, and attractive guys & gals."
The founder of this (NOT an escort service) website is bluntly nonsentimental about why his venture works: "Wealth and sexual attraction are two very strong motivating factors," says Brandon Wade, the webmaster of SeekingArrangement.com. "While other mainstream dating websites are plagued with serial online daters who are often players, our members know exactly what they want." (from press release: http://www.prweb.com/releases/2007/4/prweb517866.htm)
They want pretty pussy to pay for.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
women lie too
Do you remember that joke about the percentage of guys who masturbate? Ninety-nine percent masturbate and one percent lies that they don't?
I have no statistics on how many women have, at some point, suffered from some form of a body-image issue, but I am going to guess the percentages may be similar. The split isn’t. I’d guess 10 percent have body-image issues, 80 percent lies about it. The ones who have these issues will tell you upfront, "No pizza for me, I’m trying to lose 56 pounds."The 80 percent will order pizza, smile hard and then try even harder not to think about the gym first thing in the morning.
The remaining 10 percent are women who have miraculously never in their lives uttered the words, "Do you think these jeans make me look fat?" (If you are one or know of one, please email me: mailto:editors@ohmagazine.ca)
By some form of a body-image issue I mean dieting. Being a vegetarian. Becoming allergic to cheese in late teens. Avoiding carbs. Becoming bulimic and anorexic, too, but these are your traditional eating disorders, others are often considered nutritional adjustments.
It’s the lying that is the most disturbing. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m sure it was your naturopath or your love of grain that made you cross out food groups from the chart on your plate. It was a palm reader or a Chinese medicine specialist who told you that you should live on salad alone. You’re an animal-rights activist and meat is murder. You were getting pimples all over your forehead – you just had to stop eating bread.
No, of course not, it has nothing to do with the fact that you think you may be too fat.
Then there are the noble athletic pursuits. Many are considered good for you, such as frequent marathon runs. I have friends who run marathons. They love getting ready for them. They love the challenge. I don’t think their stuff is about body image, necessarily. Genuine athletic pursuits are great.But I do know of women who run even when they’re blind with pain, who puke after overexerting themselves on the treadmill, who swim 250 laps between classes. Women who stick fingers down their throat after lunch and run 40 flights of stairs. They, too, claim to love physical activity.
I would venture to say that any physical activity that is continuous and manic is a form of an exercise bulimia. By this I mean more than six hours at the gym doing intensive cardio or obsessive weight training. I think you are seriously worried about your body if you are there for more than six hours. Unless you are an Olympic athlete or a fitness professional and truly enjoy going to the gym and stretching – and by truly I mean as truly as you enjoy eating chocolate cake – then I think you’re at the gym because worried about your weight.Everyone knows the argument about influence of media, etc. on our body image and tragic outcomes of too much dieting, exercising and such. Everyone knows skinny is a big, fat problem. I'd say we fight it by being honest about it to ourselves first. Let me start: my body image is completely warped. I haven't eaten a chocolate cake without having to think about out in years. Some days I think I'm too fat.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
we're back... and you're sexy
Mother of god, that was difficult!
But we did it again. And thanks to our wonderful contributors we really quite a fantastic range of stories, poems and other sexy bits.
We're still looking for more contributors so if you write (or know someone who does) and would like to contribute, please contact us. Hell, even if you don't write, write. Publishing for ohmagazine is a little better than all of your heartbreak (your dirty thoughts, your lovely poems, your unrequited kisses) going into a deep, dark void.
We're also looking for art contributions so if you've got anything like that let us know.
Enjoy the rest of the summer and look for us in September. Hopefully, by then we'll have some neat subscription features set up and we'll have some regulars to be able to update more often than once a month.
But we did it again. And thanks to our wonderful contributors we really quite a fantastic range of stories, poems and other sexy bits.
We're still looking for more contributors so if you write (or know someone who does) and would like to contribute, please contact us. Hell, even if you don't write, write. Publishing for ohmagazine is a little better than all of your heartbreak (your dirty thoughts, your lovely poems, your unrequited kisses) going into a deep, dark void.
We're also looking for art contributions so if you've got anything like that let us know.
Enjoy the rest of the summer and look for us in September. Hopefully, by then we'll have some neat subscription features set up and we'll have some regulars to be able to update more often than once a month.
Friday, June 22, 2007
calling you
Hello,
We've been getting some nice response and our second issue (coming out mid July) is promising to be quite interesting. But. We are still looking for more story submissions. And we are still looking for blogs to add to our Links page.
Please write to us and submit your stories. We are looking for stories that are crazy, calm... cute? We are not afraid of the word "fuck," nor are we afraid of talking about love. We are looking for section suggestions as well.
We are not able to pay you, but if you need a place to air your sexy laundry, get in touch with oh.
editors@ohmagazine.ca
We've been getting some nice response and our second issue (coming out mid July) is promising to be quite interesting. But. We are still looking for more story submissions. And we are still looking for blogs to add to our Links page.
Please write to us and submit your stories. We are looking for stories that are crazy, calm... cute? We are not afraid of the word "fuck," nor are we afraid of talking about love. We are looking for section suggestions as well.
We are not able to pay you, but if you need a place to air your sexy laundry, get in touch with oh.
editors@ohmagazine.ca
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
story submitted: beautiful boys
This is a story submitted to NOW magazine during the time of their revanillaization. It didn't make it into ohmagazine (too looong), so we're pasting it here. Blogs are easy.
Addicted to beautiful boys
I used to collect beautiful boys. My most memorable prize: I was 21 and at the Royal City concert; they were playing in the uni grad lounge. I saw a guy across the room. In that moment, my 10-month-old relationship with my boyfriend, Adrian, imploded like a red giant: I fell in love at first sight with the guy across the room. Royal City played on (in my editorialized memory they are playing the sickly sweet "Baby Let Your Heart Out"). I stared at the guy across the room, chanting silently in my head: over here, over here, see me, see me! I had never seen a boy that striking before: he was pale with hair and eyes like tar, cheekbones that could slice ice.
I am being sentimental, I am being creative writing 101 about this, but I can only describe Daniel in those terms. He was to be written poetry about. He was to be looked at, admired. I wanted to own him. I wanted to wear him. I wanted him accompany me to places, parties (Oh, this? This is my Daniel. Yeah, it’s an original design). I wanted him to listen to me, say my name with trembling voice. Yet, I didn’t necessarily want to sleep with him or have a relationship with him. I owned him more if I didn’t – I too remained an ideal.
Daniel fell in love with me. At night, we snuck out together and drank our way through the city, photocopied our hands entwined together at Kinko’s, stupid stuff. We set shit on fire. We cried on the back stairs of the apartment I shared with Adrian. Daniel and I kissed and broke apart dramatically. But I would not leave Adrian. He too was beautiful with arctic-blue eyes and mad smoky curls. And I was greedy. I wanted all of my beautiful men. Daniel was to remain untouched, perfect, unlike Adrian whom I sampled and broke too many times already. I called Daniel my muse. He wanted more or none of it. I humoured him: Okay, maybe I’ll just marry you in two years. In two years? He would ask with a serious face. He was getting sick of my games.
One night, in a dark alley – where else? – I rolled my eyes and rolled my skirt down, bent over and told him to fine, fuck me. He couldn’t get fully hard at first– he said he was too nervous, oh, I love you so much, he said. He said my name over and over with a trembling voice. I urged him to hurry the fuck up, finish, before Adrian finds us. It was ruined anyway. I wanted Daniel to stay just beautiful.
I am a recovering beautiful-boy addict. Although I will still, occasionally, go to even the most boring event just because I may run into a beautiful boy there. In kindergarten, I built my wooden-block castle right beside Norbert’s, the cutest boy in our group. In elementary school I held hands in a ritual of "going with" Luke, a boy everyone said was cute like Kevin from The Wonder Years. As a teenager I would go to parties and quickly scan the room. I would find him, the pretty one. Sometimes I would have to lower my standards but as long as there was at least one decent boy, the party was okay and I would have a purpose: I would bring out my artillery of charms and try to shoot him down.
After Daniel, I met another handsome devil, Max, and used to drag him around to show him off like a purse to my new friends in Toronto. Max wanted to kiss me; he wanted to have dinners, dates. I was still with Adrian. Recently, my friend Jane said, dreamily, wow, ever since I’ve known you, you always have had all these beautiful men around you. I said, God, but I wasted two years with Adrian just because of his face. I wasted his two years.
I hear men are lookers. I hear it’s rarely just about looking – there is always the thought of fucking. I am a looker too. But I don’t necessarily want to fuck beautiful men. I want them to want me. I want their returned attention to validate my looks because I am insecure.
My karma is kind of cute: my current partner suffers from the same addiction I do. He’s got eyes like searchlights. Beaming every beautiful girl that walks by. Sometimes, I get nervous. I’m nervous my own flutter and glitter will run out, that I won’t be enough but – at the same time – I say triumphantly, masochistically to my addict side: good, you deserve it.
Addicted to beautiful boys
I used to collect beautiful boys. My most memorable prize: I was 21 and at the Royal City concert; they were playing in the uni grad lounge. I saw a guy across the room. In that moment, my 10-month-old relationship with my boyfriend, Adrian, imploded like a red giant: I fell in love at first sight with the guy across the room. Royal City played on (in my editorialized memory they are playing the sickly sweet "Baby Let Your Heart Out"). I stared at the guy across the room, chanting silently in my head: over here, over here, see me, see me! I had never seen a boy that striking before: he was pale with hair and eyes like tar, cheekbones that could slice ice.
I am being sentimental, I am being creative writing 101 about this, but I can only describe Daniel in those terms. He was to be written poetry about. He was to be looked at, admired. I wanted to own him. I wanted to wear him. I wanted him accompany me to places, parties (Oh, this? This is my Daniel. Yeah, it’s an original design). I wanted him to listen to me, say my name with trembling voice. Yet, I didn’t necessarily want to sleep with him or have a relationship with him. I owned him more if I didn’t – I too remained an ideal.
Daniel fell in love with me. At night, we snuck out together and drank our way through the city, photocopied our hands entwined together at Kinko’s, stupid stuff. We set shit on fire. We cried on the back stairs of the apartment I shared with Adrian. Daniel and I kissed and broke apart dramatically. But I would not leave Adrian. He too was beautiful with arctic-blue eyes and mad smoky curls. And I was greedy. I wanted all of my beautiful men. Daniel was to remain untouched, perfect, unlike Adrian whom I sampled and broke too many times already. I called Daniel my muse. He wanted more or none of it. I humoured him: Okay, maybe I’ll just marry you in two years. In two years? He would ask with a serious face. He was getting sick of my games.
One night, in a dark alley – where else? – I rolled my eyes and rolled my skirt down, bent over and told him to fine, fuck me. He couldn’t get fully hard at first– he said he was too nervous, oh, I love you so much, he said. He said my name over and over with a trembling voice. I urged him to hurry the fuck up, finish, before Adrian finds us. It was ruined anyway. I wanted Daniel to stay just beautiful.
I am a recovering beautiful-boy addict. Although I will still, occasionally, go to even the most boring event just because I may run into a beautiful boy there. In kindergarten, I built my wooden-block castle right beside Norbert’s, the cutest boy in our group. In elementary school I held hands in a ritual of "going with" Luke, a boy everyone said was cute like Kevin from The Wonder Years. As a teenager I would go to parties and quickly scan the room. I would find him, the pretty one. Sometimes I would have to lower my standards but as long as there was at least one decent boy, the party was okay and I would have a purpose: I would bring out my artillery of charms and try to shoot him down.
After Daniel, I met another handsome devil, Max, and used to drag him around to show him off like a purse to my new friends in Toronto. Max wanted to kiss me; he wanted to have dinners, dates. I was still with Adrian. Recently, my friend Jane said, dreamily, wow, ever since I’ve known you, you always have had all these beautiful men around you. I said, God, but I wasted two years with Adrian just because of his face. I wasted his two years.
I hear men are lookers. I hear it’s rarely just about looking – there is always the thought of fucking. I am a looker too. But I don’t necessarily want to fuck beautiful men. I want them to want me. I want their returned attention to validate my looks because I am insecure.
My karma is kind of cute: my current partner suffers from the same addiction I do. He’s got eyes like searchlights. Beaming every beautiful girl that walks by. Sometimes, I get nervous. I’m nervous my own flutter and glitter will run out, that I won’t be enough but – at the same time – I say triumphantly, masochistically to my addict side: good, you deserve it.
Friday, June 8, 2007
lezz go
After a few sleepless nights, we are possibly ready to let friends know about our wonderful website ohmagazine.ca.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
call to action
Hello,
A few months ago, NOW magazine published an essay about a relatively violent lesbian encounter (by Belinda Fox) in their Love & Sex column. Red-faced letters to the editor ensued. Shame on you, NOW magazine for printing porn! One letter read: "My 13-year-old niece just started taking the subway to school on her own this year and reads your paper on the way. Way to go, NOW."
Due to that scandal or something else entirely, NOW magazine has ceased their Love & Sex column. Too bad -- I thought it was quite refreshing, but then again, I don't have a 13-year-old-niece who rides the subway.
As of right now, there are really no public forums where a nice (no, not niece) reader with a healthy sex drive and need for a real-life story could read about nice (and not so nice) women's encounters in this big, bad city. Okay, there's XX in xyyz, which is a great start, but I have a feeling there is room for more. There must be other women who like to have fun, no?
So. If you're a woman in this city (Toronto) who dates, is in a relationship, has sex, falls in love, doesn't have sex but likes to write about sex she used to have... and who would like to share her eal-life story, get in touch with me and we'll get this party started. I want to publish your stories on-line and hopefully make this city a little more interesting (hotter?) than it is.
A few months ago, NOW magazine published an essay about a relatively violent lesbian encounter (by Belinda Fox) in their Love & Sex column. Red-faced letters to the editor ensued. Shame on you, NOW magazine for printing porn! One letter read: "My 13-year-old niece just started taking the subway to school on her own this year and reads your paper on the way. Way to go, NOW."
Due to that scandal or something else entirely, NOW magazine has ceased their Love & Sex column. Too bad -- I thought it was quite refreshing, but then again, I don't have a 13-year-old-niece who rides the subway.
As of right now, there are really no public forums where a nice (no, not niece) reader with a healthy sex drive and need for a real-life story could read about nice (and not so nice) women's encounters in this big, bad city. Okay, there's XX in xyyz, which is a great start, but I have a feeling there is room for more. There must be other women who like to have fun, no?
So. If you're a woman in this city (Toronto) who dates, is in a relationship, has sex, falls in love, doesn't have sex but likes to write about sex she used to have... and who would like to share her eal-life story, get in touch with me and we'll get this party started. I want to publish your stories on-line and hopefully make this city a little more interesting (hotter?) than it is.
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