Currently Chasing: A cure for CRAZY

So I’ve been wondering something. How come no matter what man I ask in my life, be it my brother, my co-workers or my male friends I will always get the same answer to this question:

Why did the two of you break up?

And the answer will always be:

Because that bitch went crazy.

I’m scratching my head over this.

I’ve had a man ask me for my underwear at the end of a date. A FIRST DATE!

“Hey, you know what would be awesome?”

“No what?”

“If you gave me your panties.”

“Well, that could be awesome, but I use them to prevent chaffing. But thanks for asking.”

I’ve had a man ask me if he could masturbate in his car, while I was in the passenger side.

“Hey, do you mind if I wack it while you’re sitting right here?”

“Um, no, if you don’t mind if I report you to the perve services and they document you and turn you into a blue dot on some predator web site!”

Good Lord!

I’ve had a guy suck his own dick on a web cam while I pointed my camera at my bare feet.

I’ve had a guy tell me that I can’t go to his house because his ex-girlfriend is there feeding the dog that they bought together, and that sometimes she still stays the night, and that yeah, it’s usually in his bed, but he promises, they are so over!

I’ve had a guy send me a picture of his penis next to a 9mm pistol.

I’ve had a guy send me a picture of his penis with a tape measure wrapped around it.

I had a guy send me a picture of his penis next to another penis? I don’t know what was more disturbing, that there was a second penis in the picture or that I was wondering which one was his. (OR) that there was a second penis in the picture.

I’ve had a guy call my phone and sing ask me out on a first date. He literally SANG  a song into my voicemail. Something creepy about loving me and staring into my eyes. It was some creepy American-idol audition bullshit.

And after all of this, someone can dare say that the reason something didn’t work out between us is because I’M CRAZY.

Come on! I’ve had this conversation recently:

“So what happened to you and Barbara?”

“That bitch went crazy.”

“Really? It wasn’t that you cheated on her with her sister that the two of you used to visit while she was in prison?”

“No, she didn’t know about that.”

“It wasn’t that you used the bonus money she got from the military to produce your own porn movie.”

“No, she supported that.”

“So she ‘out of the blue’ went crazy on you after 19 years of marriage?”

“I told you, that bitch was crazy.”

I bet she was crazy. Because you fucking made her crazy. I mean, how do you think we get crazy? You think it’s really like that comedian says? That one day we are just sitting there all normal and then you ask us what movie we want to see and we answer by saying:

“Um, I think Green Lantern sounds like a good … holy fuck I’M CRAZY!”

We just totally snap? Um, no. We stand by while you fuck our sister that just got out of prison. We stand by while you produce your porn movie. We stand by while you ask for our underwear. We stand by while you masturbate in your truck. (but for the record, I did not stand by for that.) We stand by while you suck your own dick. We stand by while you forget to tell us you are married. We Stand By. And then finally WE TAKE A STAND. And then, you say bye.

Sing this in the tune of Crazy by Gnarls Barklay.

“Maybe I’m crazaaaaay, cause you made me crazaaaaay, I’ll make you as craaaaaazay, as you make meeeeeeeee eeeeeee!”

That’s how I feel. We are only returning the favor, not initiating the craziness. I mean really. Dudes are always just pushing the buttons. Never really accountable for their shit. I would start dating chicks, but you know, them bitches be crazy.

Currently Chasing: A Zoom Lens

I'm laying here with my shirt slightly lifted and I'm staring at my belly. Why can't it be this flat when I stand up? Just sink into my back the way it kind of does when I'm in the horizontal position. Missionary is really the only position I look good in. I would never make a porn - for several obvious reasons, but also because I wouldn't want anyone seeing what I even hide from myself. And it really isn't sexy when girls half way through porn sex ask ... do I look fat in this swing? yeah...and out of it too.
I recently had someone ask me to 'make a video.' A video of what? A bag floating in the breeze? A red balloon flying all over town? You've got to be kidding me if you think I'm making a video of me doing anything! I don't even want a video of me doing something productive and good for the earth, let alone me doing something destructive and girthy! I mean good lord, a photo is one thing. I can find a good position, take a hundred and fifty digital shots, and then pick the best one and act like it was the first and only one I needed to take- like I just snapped that and viola, it's fucking playboy home-photo ready. But a video. PUKEDY PUKE PUKE.
Uh, no.
Don't worry Dad, I'm not going to do it. My father reads this blog. Fucking great. I'm sure he loves when I cover topics like this. This and the one about what come tastes like right Dad? Yeah, not his all time favorites, I can assure you.
And here is another thing, and it's possible I've mentioned this before...but men who send photos. There needs to be rules. I've gotten my share of provocative photos...and I've noticed something. Men who send me pictures of their ass, no matter how nice it is, just seem ... curious. If you know what I mean. I don't really need to see your ass. Feeling it is one thing...but just looking at it. I'm not a fan. I once had a boyfriend who had lost a lot of weight...and his whole body recovered and formed quite nicely...but not his ass. And I didn't care. Until one day when he got up to go to the bathroom and he wasn't wearing boxers and then bam, there is was....like a ass that had given birth to a couple of babies and was never going to be the same. And that image will never leave my mind. So save the ass shots...they are hard to get anyway I imagine. Unless you have help taking them..and again, curious.
Next...do not pose with anything. Do not pose with your weapon, do not pose with your arm making a muscle, do not pose with a tape measure (yes, I've seen it, and yes, it's obnoxious). In fact, just don't pose. It didn't seem natural when Fabio was doing it, and it sure doesn't seem natural when your chewbacca chest is doing it.
If you have to take a picture of your member, please make sure it's hard. And just take a picture of it. Not of you holding it with the camera over your head looking down so I can see your face. What kind of look are you going to be giving? Women have a way of always looking pretty, and always making seductive looks seem easy to do...but men, they just always seem to look like they are shitting. And make sure when you snap that photo that you fill the frame. I don't want to see what's on TV in the background, and i especially don't want to be asking you whose bra that was on the floor!!
Another rule: Don't send the same pictures to everyone. I once had a boyfriend send me a picture he had 'just taken' of himself...only it was about 9 at night, and I could see out the window that it was daylight when that photo was taken. So who was it actually for? Not exactly romantic. Not that a texted picture of a cock is romantic anyway, but I'm just saying.
Last but not least...do not do a 'photo shoot.' I mean, one picture of you at your best is good. I don't need a series of three emails with nine attachments each where you are auditioning for a job at Gay Way Magazine. Leaning here, laying there, all fours, leg propped. shorts half way down, shorts all the way down. boner pushing shorts up. head slightly exposed. You get the point.
Please feel free to take pictures of your chest..I love a good chest. And Abs...well, that goes without saying. and I don't even mind mirror photos where you kind of just give me the entire package without using any kind of dumb ass prop. If you want, I'll do the women of the world a favor and screen your naked nasties before you sext them out. That way I can warn you before you either end up in the friend zone, or as a blue preditor dot on some website.

Currently Chasing: Weight-loss Sex

So if you know me then you know that I’m always looking for great and unconventional ways to lose weight. I’ve tried the Atkins Diet, the soup diet, the detox diet, the cookie diet and the vegan diet. I’ve taken dexatrim, slim fast, Xenadrine, Hydroxy Cut, Phen fen and Phentermine. I’ve joined Jenny Craig, Nutri-Sytem and Weight Watchers.

So recently when I noticed that a friend of mine was continually posting photos of herself become increasingly thinner and sexier, I finally had to ask … What the fuck are you on?

Sex, she said.

Turns out about a year ago my friend’s husband decided he needed a break. He moved out and left my friend and her children to figure things out on their own for awhile. Initially, the break devastated my friend, and sent her to that place where women hate and love to be, the “not able to eat” zone. That started the weight loss.

Eventually though she embraced her new semi-single status, and she also embraced what was quickly becoming a body she hadn’t seen since high school. However, she still wasn’t feeling very sexy.

All that changed when men started coming out of the wood works. From 19-42, she had a buffet laid out in front of her. She began taste testing. A little 19 year old here, a little 25 year old there, until she had established a menu she was more than happy to order from daily.

When the hunger pains would kick in, she would call one of her entrées over to both feel and fill her up. With every conquest she felt more sexy. Until finally a man who she was truly interested in took notice. HER HUSBAND.

He had also noticed this change in her body and her attitude. He noticed that she was feeling sexier and more confident. He saw that she was doing just fine on her own. She wasn’t calling him as much, and she was running off to Vegas with friends without so much as a text message to him. She was fazing him out. So he decided to put himself back on the menu.

So with this last picture she posts I finally have to ask …

“How does your body keep getting finer?”

“I don’t know, must be my five lovers and the workouts they give me,” she said.

“So you’re telling me that not only is sex great for weight loss, but also muscle toning?” I asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” she said.

“Is there any one lover better than another?”

“I work the most with the 25 year old, but the 21 works me the most. The husband has the biggest dick. The 42 year old is just a really great lover all around. I’m currently on a break with the 19 year old. The 25 year old is who I’m with the most. I always get mine and love that he is ready to go again after only 10 minutes.

So I ask her why she doesn’t just keep the 25 year old and dump the rest. She asked why she should do that. You don’t always feel like eating the same thing every night. I guess sometimes you want something sweet, and sometimes you want something spicy. And she’s got a plethora of flavors.

As much as I love her body, the sex method is not going to work for me at this point. But I’m sure the “overseas diet” I’m about to embark on will do just as good of a job. I hate eating in foreign countries because I don’t eat anything unless I know for sure what it’s made of. No goat cheese pizza for me, thanks. Unfortunately, forced starvation doesn’t sound anywhere near as fun as the weight-loss program my friend is currently on. However, with this new vow of celibacy I’m overdosing on lately, food will continue to be the only thing ending up in my bra at the end of the night.

How motivated are we by money?

Have you ever paid for sex? And I’m not talking about in relationships where you feel like you’re paying dearly. And I’m also not referring to the thousands of dollars women drop on IEDs. Impossible to Emulate Devices.

What I’m really talking about is paying cold hard cash for the mash.

And would you be willing to pay your spouse for sex if it somehow improved your love life? I mean, do we really ever do anything that won’t somehow make us money? I think we can all agree we are a society motivated by money.

So why did I find it odd the other day when I heard about a woman who charges her husband for sex. She made up a sexual menu. He could have whatever he wanted on the menu, even Rump Roast. The only thing she asked in return was that he paid for his selections. Every sexual act came at a cost.

I also read a magazine article that suggested men pull out $200, lay it on the nightstand, and tell their ladies they can ‘earn it.’ The article said that most of the time women feel obligated to have sex. But by showing them the money, that gives them a WIFM (What’s in it for Me) they can’t refuse.

Some guys feel like they are paying for sex one way or another, so why not just pay for the kind that doesn’t have three kids from a previous marriage and $400,000 in student loans attached to it. I can’t say I completely disagree with this theory. I’ve never paid money for sex. But my heart has had to pay a hefty price more than once when it came to falling for men who only really wanted a sexual relationship. I wish they would have just ‘put the money on the nightstand.’ At least then I would have known exactly what I was in store for.

Then there are the guys who pay … and don’t feel like they got their monies worth. A friend of mine bought the bed I currently own. I’m sure he didn’t plan originally on just doing that out of the kindness of his heart. I mean, when is the last time someone bought you a bed that they weren’t planning to share with you? I’m sure he’d of rather taken that money to Baltimore. At least there he could pay to play.

Plenty of my guy friends have admitted to having paid for sex, but it’s all the same awkward “I only did it once” story.

“We were in a foreign country and I couldn’t understand what she was saying and by the time I realized, I had already fucked her, so I had to pay.”

Or …

“She would have done it for free, but I felt bad because she is saving for medical school.”

Or my personal favorite …

“I thought I was just giving her a ride home, and then all of a sudden she asked if I had the money and I didn’t, but by then I felt like I was under contract, so I went to an ATM and got the money … but it’s not like I wanted to do it, especially when half way through our business some guy came into the room and asked if she’d be able to drive him to the liquor store later. Awkward.”

Yes, awkward. But which part? The part where you didn’t want to do it, but physically left the house to get money? Or the part where she was 350 pounds of paid for love?

But really, who am I to judge? And my conversation with a good friend pretty much summed it all up for me today.

“There are people paying for sex? Who are they?” he asked.

“I don’t know, just people,” I told him.

“Oh yeah?” he said. “Where are they going to get it?”

The bank my dear. The bank.

Currently Chasing: The Master of One!

What is this obsession with threesomes? When I was younger I met a guy that I liked a lot. He asked after a month of dating if I’d be interested in a threesome. I said if we do something like that we will never be able to be a couple. It will ruin and change everything. He said he was willing to take the chance.

And that way of thinking has been a theme for most men I date. They meet one of my female friends and right away the jokes begin, which are niether cute nor subtle.

“Have you seen her naked?”

“Have you two kissed?”

“Sure I’ll take the garbage out if you invite so and so over for a sleepover.”

“Game night? How about truth or dare?”

Geezus H? Really?

This is not Facebook people, and you do not get to add a friend!

I’ve seen videos…I’ve read books, I know what happens with these types of scenarios. Someone is always left out. And you know what else…when there are two girls, one of the girls is always just a little bit prettier and/or skinnier than the other girl. What do you think that does for the EGO!?

“Oh look, there is my man cheating on me. Literally fucking cheating right on top of me! That girl is obviously doing a good job of turning him on, only she looks nothing like me. Man, her stomach isn’t sticking out even a little. Dude, her boobs are perfect. Her hair is sticking to her sweaty back. Mine doesn’t do that. FUCK, HE PROBABLY HATES ME.”

And there you go. Unless you want to drive your girl totally bat crazy, leave the threesomes to the pros. Who do you think you are anyway? You last 37 seconds with her, and now you’ve got to split that time between two hotties. Why even embarrass yourself? That’s if you are able to perform at all. There may be some anxiety that comes along with being the star of the show. Who needs that kind of pressure?

I mean, multi-tasking in any other situation seems like a waste of your time. But not in this situation; you are all of a sudden a cross-trained pro! But my friends who’ve tried it never really got what they were hoping out of it.

In fact, it kind of just left the door open for infidelity. If she doesn’t mind me cheating while she’s in the room, then she definitely won’t mind if she’s at work, or downstairs wathing TV, or brushing her teeth. You get my point!…A man’s logic is not logical. And if you think you two can casually hook up with someone once or twice and then never do it again…well I have something to show you, It’s my shocked face … Whaaat?!! Because even if he’s not saying it, he’s thinking about it with every single introduction to a new friend.

Wouldn't you rather be a master of one than simply a jack … ASS!?

Currently Chasing: Sex Experts

So browsing through the bookstore the other day I came across a book. “Sex: How to do everything.” The book was on sale for $15. Now come on. I flipped through the book and knew right away that I could learn more about sex by watching a Madonna video.

The book is written by em and lo. What makes these hims or hers or this him and her experts? The book is also only 84 pages. The positions book is 256 pages, so what were em and lo doing, paraphrasing? Right next to the sex book is a book about threesomes, for couples who want to know more. Shouldn’t this info already be in the sex book? I mean, it claims that it is all encompassing. And if I’m in a couple and I want to know more about threesomes, guess what I’m going to do? Pornhub.com. That’s what. Pictures in a book are nice, but full on instructional videos are better. And free. Not to mention the awkwardness of purchasing these sex books. Especially from the overly friendly staff at the books-a-million by my house. I can already imagine the transaction.

Book’s employee: Hidy Howdy neighbor. Great day for an inspiring read. What can I ring you up for today?

Me: Um, just this sex book and this other book about threesomes. My partner and I are interested in learning more.

Book’s employee: Well there’s not much reading in these books, mostly pictures. Might I suggest a more mature text like possibly a pocket Bible?

Me: No, this is it. This sex book says it’ll teach me how to do everything, so I’ll find Jesus on my own. Thanks.

Book’s employee: Okily dokily, are you a card member?

I mean, they may as well title these sex books, “Please don’t steal me because you’re too embarrassed to buy me.”

And these books all advertise the same thing. A quick and easy orgasm for the woman.

Men, let me clue you in on a little secret, your goal should not be to get us to orgasm as quickly as possible. What is the fun in that? There are plenty of times I’ve reached my happy place on my own in a lot less time than it’ll take you, and trust me, that was the goal. But when I’m with my partner I want him to take his time.

I had a friend of mine tell me a horrifying story about her ex boyfriend. He was great during the day. Taking her out. Buying her things. All the makings of a great boyfriend. But somehow the money he spent on her during the day made him feel like he owned her at night. He was all rough with it and all ‘who’s your daddy?’ about the whole thing. She didn’t mind when he’d grab the back of her head, it was nice. What she minded was the face rape that occurred moments after that. Maybe she came…who could really tell what was a scream of pain and what was a scream of pleasure?

I mean fine, maybe one crazy time, if it’s your birthday. But every night you want to just have tortured angry sex? Get a doll.

All I’m saying is books are for the birds. I can’t cook. I’ve read books on it. Seems simple enough. A dash of this, a bit of that. But you know how it is. They recipe calls for 2 cups of milk and you only have 1 cup. It’ll have to do. And the recipe calls for this spice, but you only have that spice. You put it all together and think…who will notice?

Same with sex books. Maybe you can’t move into that exact position. But maybe if you just put her leg back like this, put her arm right there … Forget all that. Just do what you think will feel good to her. Trust me, she’ll notice.

Currently Chasing: Big black Jack

Over the years I’ve gotten a lot of autographs. I used to carry around a little autograph book. Inside I had Alan Thick’s signature, Billy Huffy from Fame, Greg from the Brady Bunch, a couple other random models and wannabees, and the coveted Knight Rider’s KIT Car tire print. But today I got an autograph that I’ll never forget, from a guy I’m sure I’ve seen, but could only recognize in a line-up of cock.

When this guy sends pictures of his dick. He means to.

He is related to a current student of mine. It’s his brother; Porn Star, Jack Napier. If you haven’t heard of him, then Google him. He has won consecutive awards for Best Interracial Series with his hit, “It’s Big. It’s Black. It’s Jack.”

He also did some of his best work in “Black Bottom Girls,” “Jack on Blondes” and “There’s Something About Jack.”

I somehow still doubted the validity of this guy, but he’s got his own page on IMDb. The dude is legit. And according to one website, he has the biggest dick in Porn. I didn’t actually get to meet him, or his cock, which I’m disappointed about, because who doesn’t want to walk around saying, “I met the biggest dick in porn!”

However, when I returned from lunch there was a gift for me. No, it wasn’t a dick in a box. But it was a picture. Of Jack Napier. With clothes on. Shame. However, it was signed.

It is now, and will remain the best autograph I’ve ever gotten. The biggest dick in porn wrote what follows:

“To the best lover I’ve ever known. Jenna’s got nothing on you!” Jack.

And there you go. From one pro to another.