Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Fucking Roulette

So, when you hop in the sack with someone, there's only so much you can know in advance. Ya know, before you actually take the thing out for a spin.
With cars, you can look at the exterior, the interior, try to get a general idea of how the vehicle is going to perform ahead of time. You can even take the puppy out for a test drive around the block to make sure nothing weird pops up.
Dudes, it turns out, are similar. The real challenge is finding out as much as you can as quickly as you can, so you don't end up investing too much time in a dud.

This is where judgment of outer appearance comes in handy. If the dude's got a swagger, a look of confidence, and is comfortable walking up and conversing with new people, chances are his last date didn't come from the sock drawer. nothing against masturbation, but you don't sit at home with Jenna Jameson all day and then talk to real girls at night. it's usually either the real girls, or the imaginary ones.
A little bit of experiential wisdom from Big Momma, though, is that nice clothes, good hygiene, and a nice job don't mean shit in the sack. If you want to actually date the dude, then of course these things are of value, but if you're just looking for a fun romp, it turns out that hobos, old folks, stinkies and uglies can be good in bed. I'm speaking from experience here, it's sad but it's true.

Most people become good at sex from experience. anything you do by yourself, though it can be helpful, is not experience. that would fall under the category of Research and Development.
So, it follows that any indicator that someone's had a lot of sex is a good indicator that they'll be able to curl your toes. Age, for example, is usually a good indicator. This is why there are absolutely no porno scenarios of ladies taking young, virginal boys roughly for the first time. No woman really want to take a dude's virginity, because she could just as easily spend those 15 minutes trying to clean her ears out with her toes, and cause less bodily harm with less awkwardness. (Teaching young things some moves is a sexy enough fantasy, but who really wants a fucking 16 year old virgin boy with a couple of pubes and a cracking voice?) Older dudes, with more experience, have been to Vagina Town, walked around, checked out the sights, and probably have a few favorite spots there and in the outlying areas. Plus, they're familiar enough with the area to follow directions.

Guys who drink a lot can be good in bed, too, although you may need to match them for inebration to fully appreciate the experience. This is because drunk people get horny and hook up. the more often you drink, the more horney nights you'll spend learning a few new tricks from someone who's last name you'll never know.

People who appear exsessivly cool can go either way. It's the whole hot chick/fat chick debate; on the one hand, she's a hot chick, but on the other hand, the fat chick will be soo gratefull...
Seriously. Hot and cool folks tend to get laid more often because everyone wants to do them. but there's always a strong chance thast, because of their apeal, they've never been told, "hell no you can't stick that in my ear!" so they might try to do some funky, lame, or just plain immature shit to you. Your best bet here is someone who used to be nerdy, geeky, or generally unlikeable, but has recently overcome that awkwardness to mature into a super hottie. Then, on the inside the person is still insecure and in need of validation and subseqently with aim to please, but on the outside is the stone cold fox you would have been thinking about in bed with someone else.
That's what we call a win-win.

A warning sign that I'm sure we all know to watch out for is religious affiliation. But I'm gonna restate the obviouse in case you're new to the world of fucking. When seeking a sexual partner (expecially short term) the best religious affiliation is no religious affiliation. God doesn't belong in my pussy, and God shouldn't be hanging around your dick. Religion often makes people think stupid thoughts like, "i should be in love when i have sex" or "masterbation is wrong" or "someone besides the leather-clad chick in the corner is watching me and judgeing me".
All serious downers.
There is the exception of the recently fallen religious person, who wants to make up for lost time, and you can find a lot fo great enthusiasm there. But there's always the chance of a painful relaps into religosity that may include crying, and enthusiasm can't always compensate for skill and experience.

but, ya know, you've all been out there a lond time, grabbign ass and scoring drinks, so you know what you're doing.
And this has gotten really long.
So, mother fuckers, be safe out there, and tell people when they're fuckin it all up! The next person will thank you.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

So, I have lately begun stalking my ex-boyfriend. Not for any really reason, mostly out of boy-boredom. He and I broke up when i was in High school and he was in college (how did I now see that cliche playing out, i know!) and i've never really had any interest in him since, but i gotta admit, just knowing he's someone that at one time in my life i didn't mind spending a couple of ours a day with makes him pretty attractive.
The majority of the population, of late, can abuse me socially for about 45 minutes before i start to fantasize about throwing them out the nearest window.

Many of you might not be professional stalkers, but my close friends and i are, so they'll knwo exactly what i mean when i say that, after spending fake time learning about fractions of his life, i start thinking stupid things. Like how we should hang out. And how it would be cool to catch up. And how he really wasn't that weird looking, nerdy, and obnoxiously asian-philic. And then i begin to wonder if maybe he's thinking about how much more awesome I've most likely gotten since we last talked, and thinking about how much hotter i am than him.

none of these thoughts lead anywhere other than the highway to stalker town. Where increasingly weirder thoughts begin to brew.

which is why i need a new hobby. And not crocheting. That has never held my attention for longer than a week. Maybe a hearty Ritalin habit. Or i could start working part time as one of the crazy fuckers who begs for money drunk. that would incorporate some of my pre-existing hobbies, like drinking and being loud.