date machine : men

Sex Machine: The Bare Minimum

amboabe — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 00:31:00 GMT

I fall in love quickly. How much do you have to know about someone before you know you love them? It’s a yes or no question, and when you know there’s no need to sally about and over-qualify things. Yes. Me. I do. But does the same apply to sex? How much do you have to know about somebody before you let them into your pants?

I don’t like having one-night stands but I’m a hypocritical opponent of the practice. I once slept with a woman before I’d even spoken to her. It was a New Year’s Eve party in Madagascar. I was drunk and with some friends in a small room we had convinced a local to convert into a makeshift disco for the night. The woman came in with her friends close to midnight. I thought she was a French tourist.

After an hour we wound up dancing close to each other and soon we were grinding. We started kissing without saying a word. After a few minutes of making out I picked her up and she wrapped her legs around my hips. I carried her down to the beach nearby and we had sex until the ocean water turned chilly in the pre-dawn air.

At one point I heard her moan my name and I stopped short. Not only did I not understand how she knew what my name was, but I was shocked to her speak with an American accent. It turns out she was another volunteer and we had friends in common who’d told her about me. I had no idea who she was.

When the air turned cold and the giddy booze high gave way to lethargy we decided to walk back to our hotel rooms. We hugged good night and went our separate ways.

Another night I went out with a friend who invited a girl he used to date out with us. We went to a bar and after a couple of hours, the girl pulled me outside to the back patio. She told me I was cute and said something nice about my hair (swoon). We started kissing and an hour later we were in a cab on the way back to my apartment.

We had athletic sex for a couple of hours and then I started to feel the onset awkwardness of being in bed with a relative stranger. Absent a deeper attraction, her body seemed like a foreign object in my arms, not something intimate that I wanted to get closer to.

After the second hour I tried to roll over on my side and pass out, but she was wide-awake and horny. She kept finding new ways to get me hard and I thought it would have been awkward to suggest we fall asleep with a bouncy erection. So we kept having sex until she was tired enough to fall asleep.

I was sullen and selfish the next morning. I had started wishing I was alone half-way through our night together. The sex was technically great, but I didn’t want to have great sex with someone I wasn’t that excited about. In the morning all the sex between us was gone and we were just left with the same two relative strangers who had jumped at the chance to sleep with each other the night before.

I offered to buy her breakfast but she had to be at work soon. I walked her down the street to her car. We hugged and exchanged numbers. We’d had sex and didn’t even have each other’s phone numbers.

Sex covers a much broader spectrum of people than love. There are people I immediately know I wouldn’t want to have sex with. But most people are question marks. All those strange new faces and bodies moving past each other on the sidewalk, in the subway, in the tight corridors of bars and restaurants, in between cubicles in offices. Sometimes the only way to find out whether or not you really want to have sex with someone is to jump in and try.

It’s easy to seduce someone with your clothes on, to draw another person’s imagination and sense of optimism. When you’re naked there aren’t any tricks of seduction left. There are always a million reasons why things can’t work, and only one reason why things do work; one opaque, immovable, physical gesture, an affirmation. Yes.

You never really know until you’re already there.

Previous Posts:

Date Machine: The Seductive Art of Dancing

Sex Machine: Becoming A Virgin Again

Sex Machine: Come On My Face

Sex Machine: Because I Can

Love Machine: Am I Romantic Enough?

Sex Machine: Picking Up Women in Gay Bars

Sex Machine: Diary of a Sperm Donor

Date Machine: Long Distance Lovers

Sex Machine: A Revised History of Whores

Date Machine: Moving to New York in Pictures

Date Machine: Old Love Letters, or Things That Got Thrown Away in the Move

Sex Machine: Talking About Sex With Your Parents

Love Machine: Willing to Relocate

Sex Machine: Checking my Oil, or the HIV Test

Date Machine: How To Pick Up a Bartender

Date Machine: Are You My Girlfriend Now?

Sex Machine: A Revised History of Whores

amboabe — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 01:19:00 GMT

I was out with some friends over the weekend. After some polite peacocking about taste in obscure music, the talk turned to women. “My sister used to be a whore in college. No judgment,” my friend B said. “She’s married now. But when she was younger she’d had every dick on campus.”

B’s sister had never charged money for sex. But making this slur seems to be the only social shorthand we have for talking about a woman who has more than a polite amount of sex with her one true boyfriend. A man who has barrel loads of sex is a “stud,” a top-tier specimen prized for his reproductive value. A woman who has had between 10 and 100 dicks inside her various parts can only be compared to a prostitute.

A sexually active male with a horsey appetite for women is something that engenders pride. The female analog is shame and social disrepute; a penile spittoon for the licentious and decrepit men in a society who must stoop so low as to pay for a hump. Some progressive men will admit that there’s nothing wrong with a woman being a “whore;” no judgment. But still, there is no easy and deliberate way for a woman to talk about her sexuality without entering the Bermuda triangle of whoredom.

This is anecdotal, but the most sexually active of my friends are women not men. Not all, but the majority. They are not whores, no matter how euphemistically the bounds of meaning might be applied to that term.

I hate the idea of pursuit in romance. It connotes an imbalance in values. If men are supposed to always be in pursuit of the mythical “lay,” then women must surely have that magical wunderbeast lurking somewhere under their skirts. Men get lucky. Women get fucked.

I am an imperfect lover, but I don’t believe what I have to offer a woman in physical terms is any more or less valuable than what any woman has to offer me. Sex is a shared experience, something two people choose to give to one another. There are physical differences, but holistically it shouldn’t be any better or worse for one side over the other.

So why is there still such an entrenched legacy of men begrudging women breadth of sexual experience? Even when there is no conscious judgment, there is a strong implication of historical immorality.

Before I moved to New York, my friend P told me stories about how hard it is to find a steady girlfriend here. Meeting women is easy, but New York is a hotbed of eligible men. I’ve never been in a place where there is a higher concentration of well-educated, well-dressed, attractive, and generally interesting men. Women have choice in partners here in ways that I’ve never seen anywhere else. It’s intimidating. What’s the incentive to settle down into a regular movie-renting habit with one guy when it comes at such an opportunity cost? It’s not hard to imagine a lot of nice men in the city pulling up the sheets over their exposed nipples in the morning, calling after the woman as she dashes out the door. “Call me!”

I’d rather imagine two people happy to share a new experience with each other, finding the momentary dilation of a new mouth, a new vessel filling the swollen ripple, pushing against one another, finding the same beats and measures. Holding onto each other while pushing apart.

Is there a need to create a separate iconography for people who like that experience? Isn’t it something that everybody likes? Who wouldn’t rather be having sex right now, instead reading these words trapped in the pixels of a thousand different monitors?

I propose that B’s sister is not a whore, judgment or not. She is a woman who would rather be doing the same exact thing that most of us would rather be doing. And at one time she did. Again and again and again. I envy her.

Previous Posts:

Date Machine: Moving to New York in Pictures

Date Machine: Old Love Letters, or Things That Got Thrown Away in the Move

Sex Machine: Talking About Sex With Your Parents

Love Machine: Willing to Relocate

Sex Machine: Checking my Oil, or the HIV Test

Date Machine: How To Pick Up a Bartender

Date Machine: Are You My Girlfriend Now?

PDA Machine: Making Out in a Bar

Sex Machine: The Cake is a Lie, or Does My Butt Show When I Walk?

Obituary Machine: Natasha Richardson, or Smoking Cigarettes on the Roof

Love Machine: Throwing Punches, or Get Your Hands Off of My Woman

Date Night: The Most Expensive Date I've Ever Been On

Sex Machine: Monogamy is for Losers

Sex Machine: I'm Not That Kind of Girl

Date Machine: Civil War and Sex on a Toliet

Date Machine: Living Like a Bachelor

Sex Machine: Chest Hair, or the Shaved Eunuch

Sex Machine: The Kink In My Hair (and other weird fetishes)

spjv840 — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 16:38:00 GMT

When it comes to fetishes, I'm pretty vanilla. I'm not into toe sucking, toe licking, being whipped, beaten, choked, donkey punched, being pierced by large needles in strange places. I don't get off on latex, being watched or watching others, orgies sound more like a huge collection of germs than a good time and people with stumps do not turn me on. F*ck me in the ass and I'm happy. But not everyone is so easily satisfied...

I saw an ad on craigslist recently in the "strictly platonic" section (because we all know how well that rule sticks) from a man looking for women with medium to long hair who would be willing to let him wash their hair and nothing else. And he's willing to pay! I'm imagining a new kind of hair salon here where women and men go in and get paid to have their hair washed by people with kinky hair washing fetishes.

My curiosity got the better of me and I decided to go on a search of various sexual fetishes to see how weird some of these get. Strap in, or strap on, it might get bumpy.

Things that turn some people on, in no specific order:

Vorarephilia - eating or being eaten by others; usually swallowed whole, in one piece

Vomerophilia - being attracted to VOMIT

Hybristophilia - criminals, particularly for cruel or outrageous crimes

Coprophilia - Poop play

Diaperism - attraction to diapers or people wearing diapers

Frotteurism - rubbing against a non-consenting person

Apotemnophilia - being an amputee

Lactaphilia - attraction to human breast milk

Mammaphilia - female breasts (.....)

Ondinism - pee play

Peodeiktophilia - exposing one's penis in public or non-consenting person

And then it gets really weird. There are sites dedicated to:

- Trampling (women walking over men, usually in heels)
- Girls eating sandwiches
- Gut flopping (use your imagination)
- Girls sneezing
- Crippled women

And don't get me started on Objectum Sexuals, or people who are in intimate, emotional, sexual relationships with inanimate objects.

Sex Machine: Bigger Isn't Always Better

spjv840 — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 13:52:00 GMT

I once dated a man who had a very large urethra opening. The kind of large where you can't help but stare at it in surprise for a second before realizing that maybe you shouldn't be staring at it with a look of shock on your face. That sucker was BIG, man. I could probably have stuck my thumb up there, but I'm not into that kind of thing (NSFW).

I've never seen anything like it and quite honestly, hope I never do again. Not to be mean or anything, but it was really unattractive - like a big eye staring right at you. I remember catching a glimpse of pre-ejaculate fluid pouring out of there and thinking "EW, that's going to be in me in any second now".

My question is this: Why do some men have larger urethra openings than others? Does it get stretched? Or is it like ears and noses and it just comes (...) in different sizes?

Have you had experiences with larger than normal urethras?

Sex Machine: Drunk Men Do It.....Better?

spjv840 — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 13:22:00 GMT

It figures this survey would come out a week after I decide to give up booze for good.

According to this survey by Western Australia's Keogh Institute for Medical Research drunk men are better in the sack than the sober fellas.

"We found that, compared to those who have never touched alcohol, many people do benefit from some alcohol, including some people who drink outside the guidelines," Dr Chew said.

Is this the universe playing a cruel joke on me?

After studying the effects of alcohol on 158 Australian men researchers found that men who drank within the recommended guidelines had 30% fewer problems during sex than their sober peers. Clair Weaver of The Sunday Telegraph said that "Even binge drinkers had lower rates of erectile dysfunction than those who never drank, although this type of drinking can cause other health problems."

And to fuck with my universe even more, researchers said that ex-drinkers were the ones with the highest rate of problems in the sack.

It's not all that surprising, I suppose. After a few drinks inhibitions fall, the sex is hot and everyone ends up (at least somewhat) satisfied because there's no holding back. When you have too many drinks the only thing that falls is the man's limp dick and the woman's hopes for the night.

The article went on to say that "After other risk factors were excluded, weekend drinkers, high-risk drinkers and those who exceeded alcohol-intake guidelines had lower rates of erectile dysfunction than those who drank one day a week or less. Ex-drinkers, however, had the highest risk."

So what happens to all those other studies that said alcohol turns a man's penis soft and makes drunk sex sloppy? Gimme a minute...I'm trying to think of all the drunk sex I had versus the sober sex......................Jesus, they might be on to something here.

Thoughts?

Sex Machine: Coming Too Soon - Normal or Just Another Reason For Some to B*tch?

spjv840 — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 15:51:00 GMT

Some women get mad when their partners come too quickly. I think "coming too quickly" is another reason for bitchy women to bitch at their men.

I've had lovers in the past who actually apologize for their quick release and I always tell them 'Don't worry about it' and get this -- I actually mean it! You don't see women apologizing when they come after five minutes of oral sex or sex, so why do men apologize for it? Is it really that big of a deal to women?

Personally, and this might just be me, but I'd rather my man come after five minutes of fucking me than dragging it out one or two hours and then being done for the night. I remember some guys who just want to fuck all night long and after three hours it's really not so fun anymore. My vag hurts, I'm tired and probably nearing hangover time and the last thing I want to do is be bouncing around on a dick for three hours.

I can understand how some women can get mad if the dick isn't even out of the pants yet before it shoots its load, then you might have problems and reason to be a bit miffed at the situation, but getting mad at a man for coming after fucking you for a few minutes is just uptight bitch territory. Do you think a man would get mad at a woman for coming too soon? Doubtful.

I come quickly, usually through oral sex or a good finger fuck. Sure, sometimes it takes me a while if I'm stressed or just not in the mood, but the majority of the time, five to six minutes and I'm done and ready for round two.

What are your thoughts on coming "too quickly", Nerve readers?

Sex Machine: Jack Off Of All Trades

spjv840 — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 18:40:00 GMT

I'm bored with my masturbation routine. It's always the same thing and doesn't last more than ten minutes. What's the average time when you jack off, guys and gals? Do you have a jerk off routine?

I usually masturbate 1-2 times a week, give or take. One week it could be every day twice a day, and sometimes I can go weeks without petting the pussy. But lately, once a week is usually satisfying enough but the intensity of the actual orgasm the last few weeks is barely enough to utter a whimper of satisfaction. I'm in a masturbation rut. Maybe I'm just looking at the wrong porn videos.

I always hated the term 'jilling off' for female masturbation. It makes me think of a bunch of angry feminists trying to equalize pulling the meat. It doesn't work. There's nothing wrong with a woman "jacking off"! (If you're bored, there's a list of terms for female masturbation here - some are funny, some are just plain lame and none of them I would ever use, except maybe "cunt cuddling".)

So tell me, how long does your masturbation session, whether your choking the salami or twiddling the kitty, last?

Nerve Machine - How I Love Thee And Your Beautiful People

spjv840 — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 13:50:00 GMT

Nerve has some of the most beautiful people you'll find on a personals site. I recently had to do research on all the other personals sites for an article I'm writing and I can tell you that the pickings here at Nerve are a whole other planet.I mean, yeah they all turn out to be pretentious asshats, but damn, aren't they nice to look at.The last few weeks I've been getting messages from the most lovely men. There's one in particular...sigh. If I were single I'd be on him like white on snow.

On that note, here are some things that I love about Nerve personals:

- The beautiful people

- The fact that you can find people from just about everywhere

- Profile layout, definitely one of the best profiles you can have on a personals site (except maybe OKCupid..)

- It's easy to find people who can have an intelligent conversation or at least folks who have a life outside their apartment door

Things that I hate:

- The general doucheyness of the pretentious asshats mentioned above (you know what I mean, you can probably find a few of them lurking around here)

- The "flirt" feature. Why oh why must they have this? Please don't send me winks, I just delete them - unless you're ridiculously good looking.

- It costs a lot of $$$ to have a gold member account (one of the perks for writing here - it's free)

And in case you were wondering, the personals site, plentyoffish, scored the lowest of all the places to meet your mate in my article. If you're interested in reading it, please contact me!

So good job, Nerve! You're definitely the best personals site on the web!

Happy holidays and don't drink and drive.

Sex Machine: Mmmm...Morning Wood

spjv840 — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 15:42:00 GMT

I've actually met men and women who don't like morning sex. This boggles my mind. Firstly, a guy wakes up with an erection a good deal of the time. For the most part, it has nothing to do with sex, just a need to pee - BUT it is a hard penis. Who the hell passes up a hard penis when it's shoved up against you in bed? Not I, for one.

Secondly - morning sex is a great way to start the day. Nothing says "TODAY IS GOING TO BE GREAT!" more than a pot of coffee waiting for you and a man between your legs before 8 a.m.

One guy I briefly dated last year was a total morning sex guy. As soon as he opened his eyes he was all over me, and got me to see the beauty of an early morning sex romp before you even get out of bed. But here's the thing - I have a few rules when it comes to morning sex.

Miss B's Morning Sex Rules:

1) The hangover rule. If the room is spinning and I complain about having to vomit, kindly remove your face and your penis from anywhere near me.

2) No mouth kissing. Sometimes I break this rule, but for the most part - no. I don't like morning breath, my own or anyone else's. Sharing morning breath is not attractive and will probably make me gag. If you're intent on lots of kissing during morning sex, go brush your teeth and then bring me my toothbrush and some water so I can brush mine without having to get up and we can quickly resume the morning bone. Or at least pop a piece of gum in your mouth real quick.

3) No early morning butt sex. Obviously. If I haven't had my coffee yet and haven't taken my morning pee, my ass is off limits.

4) If the room is too bright, it ain't going to happen. Me + sunshine+ just waking up = Ha Ha Ha.

Other than that, I love morning sex.

This morning, though, I had an unexpected surprise and a first, if I remember correctly. Barely after I opened my eyes, my boyfriend was going down on me before I even knew what was going on. All I'll say about this one is that it's highly recommended, and it definitely changes your outlook for the day. Even the icicles hanging from the electric line look happy.

Sex Machine: Hot Robot Sex

spjv840 — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 18:49:00 GMT

So this guy in Japan has built a real life robot and named her Aiko. She's pretty hot, for a robot, and she knows her creator's favorite drink, she'll slap you if you grab her robot tittyand she can be programmed to have orgasms. She also cleans house.

The guy, Le Trung, says he built her because he's too busy to go out and find a wife the old fashioned way. Imagine the women he could have met while he was slaving away on this robotic life-partner?

This kind of thing skeeves me out. I'm all for robots, but that part in the video where he grabs her boob just leaves me feeling dirty. Like, why did he even think in the first place to grab a robot boob? You know he's hitting that every night too. But how in the world do you have sex with a robot? Do you put a vagina-simulator in there? Do you slide your pecker inside two cold slabs of metal? How the hell does it work?

He says, "I want to make her look, feel and act as human as possible so she can be the perfect companion." Dude, that's all fine and wonderful, but it IS a robot in the long run - no matter how well you make her lady parts.

But really, who am I to say anything. If you have the skills to build such a thing, you might as well do it. At least
when you're tired of her you can shut her off, or lock her up and you don't have to hear her nag. Does she give blow jobs? I wonder.

Recent posts: Date Machine: Surviving the Holi-Daze
Sex Machine: Sex Without A Condom is So Much Better

Sex Machine: Sex Without A Condom Is So Much Better

spjv840 — Fri, 05 Dec 2008 15:34:00 GMT

I'll be honest, since everyone loves honesty. I cannot stand condoms. This is nothing new, obviously. Few people actually like condoms, but still use them because of the importance of safe sex and unwanted pregnancies.

Back in the day, when I was single, and enjoying one-night stands and random sex, I would use condoms........but not all the time. There is nothing more mood-killing to me than when you're about to have hot sex and a guy suddenly says, "Oh baby, can you put the condom on - it's so much more sexy when you do it!" Uhhhh...seriously? I've had to this a few times and I hate it. It's not my penis, it's yours. YOU put the goddamn condom on it. I'll admit to tossing the condom aside a couple times and saying "screw it" to safe sex for a night. The ironic thing about that is that from all the unsafe sex I've had in the past (oh relax, it wasn't that much), I never caught a single STD (been tested numerous times and nada) or got pregnant (my uterus prefers to wait for when I'm in a relationship to get knocked up first, apparently). Of course, this is just luck on my part. It's not something I would encourage people to do, ever, obviously, but it's certainly not something I can say I practice with 100% effort therefore I can't preach about it.

The thing is, I find condoms just really disgusting. They smell, they make noise, they scrunch up, they take forever to put on, men look awful putting them on with their face all serious while trying to not lose their erection. Not to mention that sex without a condom is better than any other sex around.

Now that I'm in a long-term relationship, I have a new type of birth control that allows me the pleasure of condom-less sex all the time. I love it. I don't have to worry about always making sure I have a well-stocked condom drawer anymore. I don't have to purchase $20 boxes of condoms in a hurry late at night at the corner store while dude waits on my couch, stroking his wang until I come back, condoms in hand. I don't have to bite my tongue as I roll the condom down a dick, and then have the smell of latex on my fingers - we all know how attractive that smell is.

It's funny now that I think back to all the guys I've slept with - there has only ever been one guy who was consistent with the condom use and it was the guy you'd least expect it from too. The most slacker, messy-haired stoner kid you'd ever meet, but what a dick that one had. It could make a grown woman cry.

Please note: I'm not encouraging unsafe sex, so kidnly don't get your briefs in a bunch. Thanks.

Recent posts: Sex Machine: It's Not Cheating If...
Nerve ConfessionsL Sometimes the Truth Hurts
Date Machine: Hooking Up Via Facebook
Nerve Confessions: Celebrity Threesomes
Nerve Confessions: The Man Edition
Sex Machine: Your First Time

Nerve Confessions: Sometimes the Truth Hurts

spjv840 — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 16:22:00 GMT

"As I barrel towards 30, I see so many friends panicking and settling. Fuck that! I would rather die alone than waste two people's lives."

Exactly. Why settle? I don't understand this fear of being alone past a certain age (people eager to procreate not included). Why settle for being in a mediocre relationship that doesn't completely fulfil you, when you could keep on living and have a good time and maybe happen to meet someone who is exactly what you're looking for. Screw settling. Settling is for douchebags or people who can't face being alone.

"I probably fucked up one of the best relationships I have ever been in. Stupid stupid me!"

At least you realized it now and hopefully you won't fuck things up again next time! Easier said than done, I know.

"I might've accidentally given you lip herpes (cold sores)when we made out the other day. And I went down on you for like five minutes--I pray I didn't give you herpes for real from that."

Uhhhh, If you're a man, I hope you're man enough to tell this person that you might have given them herpes. If you're a woman, hopefully you have the balls to fess up. Either way, stupid move.

"im a slut."

Aren't we all? Is that such a bad thing? Unless you're the bad, skanky kind of slut, but if you're the "I'm a woman and I like to fuck" slut, party on. What you should worry about is the improper use of grammar. Just saying.

"I have a hard time interpreting whether your behavior is typical of a guy... or typical of a douchebag."

Try this: Make a list of behavior traits of a guy and one of douchebag behavior traits. Should narrow it down pretty quickly.

Recent posts: Date Machine: Hooking up Via Facebook
Nerve Confessions: Celebrity Threesomes
Nerve Confessions: The Mad Edition
Sex Machine: Your First time (A Reader Survey)
Love Machine: I'm Not the Marrying Kind..Or Am I
Nerve Confessions: The Karma's A Bitch Edition
Sex Machine: Oral Sex Do's and Don'ts

Date Machine: Hooking Up Via Facebook and A Reader Survey

spjv840 — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 19:04:00 GMT

I don't know what the attraction is with Facebook. Yeah, it's a great way to meet up with old friends, although mostly it's a lot of "Let's get together sometime!" that never seems to follow through. I've had old high school classmates requesting to be friends - I say classmates because using the term "friend" would be an asbolute lie. Just because I borrowed a pencil from you in geography class in seventh grade doesn't necessarily warrant a dire need to be added to my friend's list.

Back when I first discovered Facebook, one of the first people I added was this guy I used to have a big crush on back in seventh grade. I was never too sure of what his feelings were for me back at the time since basically he treated me like crap and we were, what, 13 years-old? But it was consistent. Why go through the trouble of picking on someone so much if you hate them? Fast forward about ten years. Dude starts sending me messages on Facebook, mentioing wanting to get together for a beer or three and of course, he mentions his fiance. Why married/taken men are always so eager to bed me, I will never know - most likely because their partners are uptight b*tches, but that's not important.

After a couple weeks of flirty messages and confessions of how much he liked me in high school and how he always thought we would get married (what!?), one night during a rough patch with his fiance, who had kicked him out - he taxi'd it over to my place where we split a bottle of wine and a few beers. A few hours later we were doing the nasty in my small single-sized bed. It wasn't the greatest of sex because I'm pretty sure he was feeling guilty about boning his hot high-school crush while still technically another girl's guy. He crashed out at my place for the weekend, before returning to his thin-lipped fiance with his tail between his legs. A few weeks later I got another message from him wanting to see me again, but I had moved on to greener pastures.

The green pastures just happened to be another Facebook hook up, although one that never should have happened. This one also happened to be another high school friend, although not ever a crush or possible bed partner - this was just another party friend from back in the day. We agreed to meet up one night when a bunch of us were getting together to watch a friend's band show and have a few brews for old time's sake (at least that was MY intention). After having consumed one too many beers (me) and one too many rum-in-cokes (him) we ended up making out in the cemetary on the way back to his place.

Of course, it was a huge mistake. The sex was sloppy and he was basically the kind of guy who lays back, arms behind his head and expects the woman to do all the work. After an unsuccessful go at it, we eventually passed out, his arm draped over me. When I woke up the next morning, I was still fuzzy around the edges and feeling the effects of the night before - yet we went on to have slightly improved morning sex. He came - I did not. I was then treated to the proof of my mistake when he proudly got out of bed, buck ass naked and continued to walk around and I realized he was a lot more hairer than I cared for, his ass was saggy and he had devloped quite the gut since the night before.

I can honestly say that I have not been satisfied by my Facebook hook ups.

Fellow Nerve readers/writers -

Have you had successful facebook hook ups?

Were they with strangers or old high school classmates/friends?

Would you do it again or have you learned your lesson?

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Nerve Confessions: The Man Edition
Sex Machine: Your First Time
Love Machine: I'm Not The Marrying Kind..Or Am I?
Nerve Confessions: The Karma's A Bitch Edition
Sex Machine: Oral Sex Do's and Don'ts

Nerve Confessions: The Man Edition

spjv840 — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 19:30:00 GMT

"is the human penis so strange?"

This was clearly submitted by a man. Yes, it is strange. It's the strangest body part ever, with exception of the armpit, which is a topic for a whole different day. The penis is able to cause endless pleasure, as well as pain, emotional trauma (have you ever seen the face of a man who can't get it up?) and not to mention, life changes. Sometimes they are happy and upbeat and sometimes it just wants to be left alone - but it's never really too sure about the last one. The owner of the penis could be tired and passed out, meanwhile the penis is wide awake and ready to party. So yes, it is strange. But we still love it.

"Wearing tighty whities makes you look like you are wearing diapers! It's terrible and I hate seeing it. Start wearing boxers, or get better fitting briefs."

I have a rule. Two rules, actually. No man I date should wear tight whities, or briefs in general. They are unattractive and just gross all around. The most beautiful man in the world (IE: Johnny Depp) could prance around in tighty whities and I would not find it appealing in the least. The second rule is no socks on during sex if the rest of your body is naked. Men should take note. Neither of these two things are sexy. Boxer briefs, on the other hand, are always a surefire way to get into a woman's pants. Especially if you know how to look sexy in them.

"I am so sick of seeing those American Apparel briefs every time I get a guy's pants off."

Ew, yeah. I'd probably walk out of the room if I found out the man was wearing anything American Apparel.

"What's the deal with dry hand jobs? So many women I date do that. A little bit of lubricant would go such a long way, and that just seems basic."

"A hand job delivered with skill requires no lubricant."

I have to agree with the person who said that a handjob done with skill requires no lubricant, although a little lube is always a bit more fun. Honestly, though, I don't think it has anything to do with skill when it comes down to it, but it depends on the penis in question. A dick with foreskin usually enjoys an unlubed handjob while foreskin-less willy's like a little lube action. A little saliva can go a long way, as well - skin or no skin.

"I'm sick of hipsters. You're just as conformist. Just conforming to something else. If you're over 35 and still a hardcore Burner picking up on 20-somethings, without real success in your "art" and no other real job, you need a life. Grow up. Nothing is more pathetic than a holier than thou aging SF hipster."

Yes! Ha ha! Just had to throw that one in there. Couldn't agree more. It's also time to retire the horrid "skinny jeans" trend.

"Is it just me or are crotchless panties just so not sexy"

I don't know why I included this in the Man edition of nerve confessions, but I wanted to reply. Crotchless panties are not sexy. They remind me of something Anna Nicole would wear while eating Cheet-os and drinking a Bud while watching WWF Raw on TNT. Not sexy.

Recent posts: Sex Machine: Your First Time - A Reader Survey
Love Machine: I'm Not The Marrying Kind..Or Am I?
Nerve Confessions: The Karma's A Bitch Edition
Nerve Confessions: Why Can't We Be Friends?

Nerve Confessions: The Karma's A B*tch Edition

spjv840 — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 14:00:00 GMT

Some of the confessions lately are seriously angry confessions, full of bile and hurt. I like it!

"You chose her over me. And now that I've heard it's all crashing down, I can't help but smile to myself...Karma's a bitch, ain't it? :-)"

Sure, it's great to be happy when you hear that the person who broke your heart is now on the otherside of the fence, but what does that say about you? That you and I would probably get along GREAT. No, but really. Is revenge karma really that great??? Ok....damnit, yes it is!

"Are you really choosing the girly girl over me? Crash and burn."

Guys always pick the girly girl until they realize how boring and superficial they are - not to mention the mediocre sex. Don't worry, soon he'll realize the mistake he made and try to get you back, but you'll have moved on by then (I hope).

"I only hope that someone manipulates you as much as you did me. You were right, you never were good enough for me."

Being manipulated is cruel. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even the guy who manipulated me for months and I wasn't even aware of it. It's better to let it go and let karma to its thing.

"I hope you're miserable when you realize you've traded happiness for convenience."

They usually are.

"I realized who you were when you let me leave, crying hysterically, to walk 20 blocks alone in Harlem at 1 am."

I'm really hoping it was a woman who wrote this on the "new breed of man" that walks the streets at 1am in fear with his dick between his legs.
I had a similar experience a few years ago and couldn't believe how unconsiderate some guys could be. Of course, now we know the hard way, but hopefully you realized enough about him to ditch the idiot. Not worth it.

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Sex Machine: Why Guys SOmetimes Tend To Suck In Bed

Nerve Confessions: I Know You Have A Girlfriend But You Feel So Good In Me

spjv840 — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 11:49:00 GMT

"I know, I know, you have a boyfriend and it was wrong for me to kiss you, but in that moment, there was nothing more that I wanted than your kiss. And I know you wanted it too."

Summer 2007 was an interesting one for me. I had discovered a new person inside me (usually every other night) and I enjoyed myself. I didn't question anything - if it felt right, I did it, no matter what the consequences might be. I was still using the excuse of getting over a bad break up with Dream Boy, so it was a green light on whatever, and more correctly, whoever I wanted.

One night some friends and I went to see my best friend's boyfriend's band play in a city that I don't go to often. before the show we checked out the local bar scene and had a few brews at a local pub. Taking my usual vodka and cranberry to get warmed up and become social, I settled into my seat and enjoyed the sights of this fun, new city filled with sexy French boys. About twenty minutes before we were about to leave a friend of a friend showed up. This friend of a friend caught my eye quickly. Full lips, big eyes, square shoulders, crazy curly hair. He sat himself down right next to me and started asking me questions. It was a wild Franglais flirt back-and-forth. After a few vodkas, of course, things were getting loud around us and I thought I had heard someone ask this sexy new boy, we'll call him Michau, where his girlfriend was. But, by then I just figured I had heard this question wrong.

Fast forward a couple hours and we're at the bar where the band is playing. Sitting through a bunch of half-assed bands who think they'll strike it big one day, we ordered a couple pitchers and waited for our friends to take the stage. Michau showed up and carefully placed himself directly across from me, so I had no choice but to notice his constant stares. To make a long story short - after a couple games of air hockey, flirting, lots more beer and a great performance from our friends on stage and way too much drunken dancing - Michau and I were making out inthe corner of the club like two teenagers at a school dance. Oh, and he confessed that he had a girlfriend somewhere throughout the night between wet kisses.

The new me didn't give a shit. He was hot, treated me like I was the hottest thing around and I liked the way his hips moved against mine as we shimmeyed our way around.

I had asked him a couple times what would happen if his girlfriend came in and saw this and he reassured me that she wouldn't.

After a while, most of the group wanted to head back home but I, along with two others (Michau included) were feeling good and wanted to explore the city's bars a bit more. So armed with two sexy single men, I headed out for more fun.

Around two o'clock, back at Michau's, the other guy passed out on the sofa, Michau sweetly made up the bed Where I would be sleeping ("We can't sleep in the same bed", he told me) and the sofa in the bedroom where he was going to sleep. Of course, a minute after he lay down on the sofa, he was in the bed with me. Despite being drunk, I knew I couldn't sleep with him. I was in the bed where he, no doubt, slept with his girlfriend of five years and if she were to walk in.....

But then his lips were all over me and his dick was in my hands and his fingers were in me and it was a blur of "You have a girlfriend.." and "We shouldn't do this..." and he told me I was a good girl for saying all this but oh I want you - and so, we didn't have sex, but we both did come and I fell asleep in the bed and he fell asleep on the sofa and in the morning, despite my fears, there was no awkwardness. When the other guy and I were ready to leave after a greasy breakfast and a few Tylenols to relieve us of our hangovers, Michau kissed me gently on the cheek and told me, "It was nice meeting you" and we said goodbye.

I can't help but wonder if his girlfriend ever smelled me on her boyfriend's pillows or if he washed the sheets right after I left. I also wonder if she does the things I did to him that night.

There was an other occurance of sleeping with a man in a relationship, engaged actaully - but the situation was different and besides, he was an old high school crush I had found on Facebook. But that's a story for another day.

So, I ask you Nerve readers - have you ever slept with a married man (so to speak)? How did it end and did anyone shake their finger at you afterwards?

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Sex Machine: Why Guys (Sometimes) Tend To Suck In Bed

spjv840 — Thu, 02 Oct 2008 20:30:00 GMT

Since no one else seems to care if they offend others or not, here we go!

There are more men who suck in the sack than there are women who suck in the sack. That is common knowledge. Why, you ask? It's simple. Men think it's perfectly fine if they just lay there while you do all the work, meanwhile if a woman were to pull the same thing we're called a "bad lay".

Another reason is because men expect too much. They expect the blow job. They expect for you to make them come. They expect you to lick up and swallow their (sometimes foul tasting) sperm. They expect you to bend in uncomfortable and sometimes painful positions all for their pleasure. They expect you to be satisifed within five minutes and then look at you with puppy dog eyes because they can't control their medicore wang.

What do women expect? We expect a little foreplay and a little action that lasts longer than ten minutes. We don't ask for much. Well, not always. A good vagina licking every once in a while, but I'm getting a head of myself.

But you know what I've learned? It takes two to tango, baby and if you're not having fun you can bet your scrawny little balls that the other person isn't either. It's chemistry. You can't be "bad" at sex, it's instinct. It's like taking a crap. You do it once and sure, the first few times are messy as hell, but if you're nearing 40 and still complaining about bad sex partners, I suggest investing in a sex toy (if you're female) or a prostitute if you're male (or one of those blow up dolls could work too, I suppose) and learn the workings of your body before subjecting another poor human to your incompetent ways.

You know what the worst sex I've had is (besides the small penis mishaps)? The men who just lay there and expect the woman to climb on up and do all the work. You can be damn sure that guy won't be getting a complete meal with all the trimmings, so to speak. Another bad sex experience is when you just don't have chemistry with the other person. If you aren't feeling it, why on earth would the sex be good? If you're male and going to go down on the old love taco (or the "mucus flap" as amboabe so lovingly called it) and you aren't all that into it, you aren't doing ANYONE any favours. You can be sure of that

A woman knows when a man likes to eat pussy. It's written all over their face, if you know what I mean. "Going down" because you expect something in return or because you think you're doing her a favor puts men on my black list. There is nothing worse than a man who can't lick the vaj with any kind of skill yet insists on it (usually in hopes that you will suck his knob in return). Unlike sex, oral sex is not instinct (well, for some it is, bless their talented little hearts). If you suck at licking, buy some mangoes or peaches. Practice. Watch porn. Read some lesbian material, I don't know. But until a man learns to properly enjoy the oral sex goodness, I really don't think they should be yammering on about how most women are bad in bed.

Thank you and goodnight.

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Nerve Confessions: Tattoos & Piercings - Plus The Top 5 Hottest Tattooed Men and Women
Nerve Confessions: Shut Up and F*ck Me
Nerve Confessions: Single and 30
Sex Machine: Toss My Salad
Nerve Confessions: Should I Stay Or Should I Go
Personals Drama: I'm Not Cupid
Date Machine: You're Not My Type
Sex Machine: The Butt Sex Bandit
Sex Machine: Hot Sex vs Bad Sex

Sex Machine: Toss My Salad, Hold the Syrup and Jelly

spjv840 — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 18:17:00 GMT

The boyfriend and I often joke about tossing each other's salads. We've yet to actually do the deed, and to be honest, I'm not entirely sure we ever will. For the most part, if a man is willing and able to stick his tongue up my ass for pleasure, who am I to stop him? All in the name of experience, I say, but then, what happens if the table turns and it's my tongue that has to do the sticking and rimming in the man's poop-shoot? Would I be able to to do it? I mean, a woman's ass is one thing, but a man's?

As the lovely and talented AirHeadGenius wrote in her post, The ass play chronicles, "The arse of a straight man is hairy and smelly, gaseous and not to be messed with".

For the uninitiated, the term "toss my salad" was coined by a prisoner on an HBO prison special. The prisoner was talking about what he would do to a new prisoner as a form of initiation. Basically, getting your salad tossed means someone eats out your ass, syrup or jelly optional. The whole thing was made even more popular by Chris Rock. See below.

A finger or dick in your ass is one thing. A tongue in your ass is one of those things you REALLY gotta prepare yourself for or at least do it with someone you're really friggen comfortable with. The whole realization of "There's a tongue in my ass right now", or even worse, "My tongue is in someone's asshole right now" might be a lot to handle for the average person. It's like Chris Rock says, "When a man's suckin yo dick, he can pretend that's somethin' else, but when he's eatin ass, he knows it's ass". If you're not into sucking your man's dick, but you do it because you know he likes it, it isn't so hard to pretend it's Benicio del Toro or Johnny Depp's dick, or even pretend it's a goddamn banana popsicle, if that makes you feel better about yourself. But if your licking your man's asshole, it doesn't matter if it's Johnny Depp, sweet Jesus himself, or Brad Pitt, it's still an asshole, gorgeous celebrity or not.

So, this is where community comes in, dear readers. Salad tossing: have you tried? Do you like it? Hate it? Recommend it?

Just remember, once we go in, there's no going back.

Personals Drama: Would you please read my sodding profile!!!

airheadgenius — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 04:42:00 GMT

I go to great lengths to describe myself accurately on my Nerve personals profile. Many would say it's over long, but I don't care. It amused me to write it and plenty of men have written and said they enjoyed it too, so I have no particular reason to change it.

But even if I did, does the content really matter? Apparently, it matters to those who find me entertaining, but so many men read it, or at least glance over the details and manage to miss out one very salient fact. Well, two to be precise.

I have children.

It's not written in code or buried deep at the bottom of the page. It's right there near the top, clearly stated "Have children: Yes. We live together". And what d'ya know beautiful people? That means that I've got children and, yep you've guessed it, we live together.

So this bloke writes to me yesterday expressing an interest. I check out his profile and he seems pretty cool, is an appropriate age for me, decent looking, but on further inspection of the "You" box, I see that he's said no to his date having children.

I write reply and point out that he seems to have missed the small print and that I actually do have offspring. He then writes back and says that he's not interested because "I grew up a stepchild and it sucked. I just want to be honest."

Now, I have no problem that he doesn't want to date a woman with kids. Back before I had mine, I wouldn't have dated a man with kids either, so it's pointless getting all high horse-ish about it now. But, surely a man that experienced life as a step child would be the perfect candidate as a step father. Since he knew exactly how it sucked, he could figure out how to make it not suck for someone else. Right the wrongs so to speak. The man doesn't owe me an explanation, but if he is going to proffer one, surely he can come up with something with a little more credibility. If I was a teacher, I would be sorely disappointed to read "my dog ate my homework"

Another man last week missed the fact of my two children and, when it was pointed out, he declined also. This time with "my last girlfriend had a child and that didn't work out so..." Yeah, complete with the last sentence hanging ",,,"

Now, if it didn't work out with that chick, and she presumably was female, did he stop dating women? His brand of logic would necessitate it no? If it's a given that all women are the same and all children are the same and all dynamics of human relationships are the same, then that's a fair extrapolation my friend. But given that none of that is true, it's just another dog ate my homework line.

The thing is with both these chumps, their inability to a) actually read my profile and b) extend their own train of thought would've been a major deal breaker for me, so in that respect it's an all round winning situation.

Over to you, Date Machiners, post your "my dog ate my homework" excuses here.

Back Catalog: Nerve Confessions: Herpes The Queen Confesses The Arse Man Cometh The Ass Play Chronicles The Sandwich Blowjob Porn Connection Bangin Ass Deformed Dicks Did I really dream that? Why I don't date Celebrities Fashionably late or just a slacker

Date Machine: You're Not My Type

spjv840 — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 19:29:00 GMT

Stepping away from the ass talk for a moment, I was reading an article recently which was talking about the type of guys we fall for and how to go about changing our routine of always falling for the same type of guy if it isn't working out for you.

When it comes to men, I know my type and I'm OK with it. They're usually emotionally detached, with a drug/alcohol problem, have spent time in jail and/or have a record, bar room brawls are the norm and generally, just don't give a shit. Basically, you wouldn't want them on your bad side. Physically, they're tall, slim, dark haired and have tattoos and really nice cocks. The kind you write home about. What can I say, I know how to pick them. They also usually leave me wondering if I should get a shrink or not.

For the most part, these guys are a lot of work, mainly because of the emotional damage that they can do on a gal's heart due to their hard ass aloofness and lack of any kind of sensitivity. Then again, I couldn't deal with an emotional, sensitive guy. This may piss some folks off, but I can't stand seeing a man cry (unless he's listening to Johnny Cash or Willie Nelson). But a man who cries over romantic-comedies or during fights or anything like that – oh hell no. That's what the cool kids call a deal breaker (see below for more deal breakers).

Perhaps my type isn't the ideal type out there for most women. There are usually consequences that come along with this type of man, dangerous situations, jail-time (in my case, spending Christmas night behind bars), etc. A lot of women would either run at the first sign of this kind of man, or try to change them. That whole thing about changing men being impossible is pretty much true. It won't happen, not permanently, anyway. I never really understood women who try to change men. What if it was the other way around and the man was trying to change the woman? Do you really think the woman would even change slightly? Again, I have to reference “Sex and the City” and that whole episode where Samantha tries to change that bald, short guy with bad breath they nick-named the Turtle. She cleaned him up and gave him some new, fancy clothes and dined at trendy restaurants. But in the end, he was the still the same Turtle, just slightly better dressed.

And because I've recently been asked a few times what my “dealbreakers” are, here you go:

Small dicks, mama's boys (the bad kind – you know, can't make a decision without asking mama first), the family man, anti-alcohol (supposedly, there are some out there), short men (anything below 5'6), metrosexuals (please don't wax/pluck your eyebrows, get facials, go for manicures/pedicures, go to tanning salons, worry about calories/working out, or other general girly man behavior), vegetarians (they taste funny..too green), men who wear pink or other “pastels”, the John Lennon type, overly sensitive, listens to Rhianna. That's just a few off the top of my head.

But what if you keep falling for the same type of guy and it's really not working for you? Is there anything you can do to change your predictable man routine? According to dating coach and founder of Cablight, Nancy Slotnick, there are five steps you can take to change your ways.

1.Go after qualities.
2.Don’t think you have to change yourself.
3.Get out of your head.
4.Have dealbreakers.
5.Last but not least, chemistry comes first.

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Personals Drama: I'm Not Cupid
Sex Machine: The Butt Sex Bandit
Sex Machine: Hot Sex vs Bad Sex
Celebrity Confession: David Duchovny is a Sex Addict
Celebrity Confession: Jessica Simpson thinks she has the perfect guy
Of Bag, Baggage and Confessions

Sex Machine: Hot Sex vs Bad Sex

spjv840 — Sat, 30 Aug 2008 15:31:00 GMT

I was talking to a friend about our hottest sex adventures that we've had. Not necessarily the best sex (that's something for a different post), but the kind of sex that gets you hot just thinking back on it, the kind you don't really have all that often, spur-of-the-moment-gotta-have-you-right-now throwdown, it doesn't matter where you are sex.

I was quite pleased going through my list of hot sex experiences, since it occurred to me that I had a good list to choose from. After a bit of hmm'ing, I finally chose the time the Greek and I did it on the side of the road late one night, leaning against his truck with our pants down around our knees, going at it like horny, little rabbits. We screwed as if our life depended on it. Right before the screwing began, we were having a very serious conversation about how we should probably not see each other again, at least not to fuck each other's brains out. A couple nights before we had gotten it on on the rubber floor of his friend's recording studio and two nights before that we had hot sex for the first time after meeting at the bar.

The thing is, it was a bad (yet great) situation to begin with, thanks to the little rule of friendship about not fucking your best friend's ex. We had chemistry within the first ten minutes of meeting, but I never had plans on going home with him. Or maybe I did. Either way, every time I watched Greek athletes in the Olympics, I coudn't help but think of Greek cock and that sticky (in more ways than one) August night last year on the side of the road.

Of course, the conversation with my friend quickly turned towards bad sex experiences. It's only natural.

Thankfully, my bad sex experience list is pretty short (no pun intended), especially considering the rather long list of one night stands I accumulated to put ex-boyfriends behind me in the hopes of "moving on". The only one that really sticks out, is the bad sex I had with Mr. Nice Guy. For the most part, he was a pretty nice guy (hence, the nickname), generous, sweet and all that stuff that most women fall for, except for me. He was also incredibly short - we're talkin' my height and I'm 5'0. And he had the smallest penis I've ever seen. And by small I mean, slightly thicker than my index finger, and I have small hands.

As Gillette so gracefully put it back in the early 90's:
"Don't want no short dick man"

It was so bad, I swear, it was just like in the movies when the woman is like, "Are you going to put it in?" And the man says, "It is in." After shifting my ass a bit to get a better position to actually feel his teenie-weenie, I knew right there that, as much as he liked me, this was never, ever, not a chance in hell going to work. The worst part was that he was VERY confident with what he was given. I couldn't understand it. He would lay around completely naked with his miniscule peter just laying there looking like a frightened baby turtle and didn't even realize that I could barely look him in the eye. It sucks that he was so nice, though. Hopefully for him he'll meet a nice woman who doesn't care about size, just the motion of the ocean and in his case, there wasn't a wave in sight.

What are some of your hot sex and bad sex experiences? What do you do when faced with a willy the size of a toothpick?

Pontifications on Pontifications on the Bangin' of Ass

airheadgenius — Sat, 30 Aug 2008 13:43:00 GMT

Zeitgeisty wrote that everyone likes anal sex - men giving and women receiving. Lovely man, I have to disagree.

Round one DING DING DING (errr, that's me starting a fight)

Many individuals are OCD and many - gotta say it - Americans are germophobes. Put it together and whathaveyougot? No to anal sex. (I know about this second hand as I would never date anyone with OCD--way too demanding)

I've dated individuals that are into it and others that are decidedly not. Regardless of what really happens with anal sex, many people just can't get past the fact that your arse was designed for shitting.

In my humble (ha ha) opinion, the desire for anal sex is directly linked to the man's propensity for porn. Mainstream porn always includes anal and the non-thinking individual might feel that it's essential to his manhood to try it, regardless of his actual desire. Man is a sheep like beast after all and likes to do what he thinks his mates are doing.

Many women would be more into it if their lover made it a sexy experience. But, if the man is all "hehehe, I'm fucking her in the ass", whilst sporting a shit-eating (oops) grin, it's just not that appealing.

Because of the "naughty" connotations of anal sex and being "allowed" to do something, too many men fall into the category described above and we, the recipient, end up feeling like we're having sex with a 14 year old. It ain't cute.

And your description "bangin' in the ass" says it all. Too many men - apparently - think they just shove it in and go to town, regardless of whether the orifice in question is ready. Lots of women don't like it because it hurts. If straight men spoke to gay men about technique, they could discover that it doesn't have to hurt at all. But most can't be bothered to spend that kinda time on the subject.

On top of that, if the man refuses to contemplate reciprocation probably due, let's face it, to homophobia, chickie might just refuse to give it up on principle.

In my opinion, many men would love to have their asses played with, but daren't ask for it because it might seem unmanly.

Women, get thee to Toys in Babeland and kit yourself out with a strap on. The bigger the better.

(Corners please)

Sex Machine: did I really dream that?

airheadgenius — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 12:36:00 GMT

Last night I dreamt about my boyfriend from when I lived in London.

He's my "one that got away" as, with hindsight and perhaps some better management at the time, I could have held onto him.

It would have been worth it. He was, and indeed probably still is, highly intelligent, creative, handsome and funny. And, surely the icing on the cake, minted with an inheritance and a family with Lord and Lady in their title. (Glossary: minted=loaded in English English)

Anyway, last night I dreamt vividly about his dick.

In real life it was a nice 7" specimen and he wielded it pretty well.

In my dream, it was massive. Like 12" massive and fat. Can't guess the circumference, not being a gay male and all, but as fat as a...wracks brain for fat thing...I want to say marrow, but you don't have marrows here. As fat as an egg plant maybe. Two hands fingers to thumbs. Is this clear???

A biggie.

But more than that-- It was mechanical. And green. And disembodied and standing in front of me on the kitchen table. No joke.

My ex boyfriend's giant disembodied mechanical green phallus.

Must eat cheese late at night less or get laid more. Yikes, there's a nasty connection there if you ponder it.

Celebrity Confession: Jessica Simpson thinks she has the perfect guy

spjv840 — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 11:36:00 GMT

In a recent interview with People Magazine, Jessica Simpsons lets it all hang out (again) about her relationship with Tony Romo. This girl will never learn.

"I just told (Tony) today, 'You're the love of my life.’ I don't really ever say that to anybody."

Firstly, admitting that anyone is the love of your life is a no-no. It's not sweet or charming, it's bordering on psycho material and sounds desperate. It's always girls that are spewing this kind of line around. You never hear a guy tell their partner that they're the love of his life (well, except for Barack last night, but he doesn't count - that was almost...sweet). Guys know better.

Poor ol' Simpleson. She's just a sweet country girl at heart, isn't she? She just wants to do the right thing. Even if the right thing involves wearing horrible country-inspired clothing and even worse career decisions.

She also told People that she changed her phone number and e-mail address so ex-boyfriends and anyone in her life before BimboRomo cannot contact her. Again with the psycho material! She did this, apparently, to prove her devotion to Romo, yet Romo hasn't done the same. This doesn't bother Simpson, however, because she isn't "a jealous girlfriend". She even went so far as to say that Romo was the "perfect guy". Expect a break up in the next four months. Men don't like to hear that they're perfect unless they're saying it about themselves. It's too much pressure.

When asked about her relationship with John Mayer, she confessed: "I had to regain self-esteem and self-value". Hence, the too-small bikini choices.