Tag Archives: sex

have you met markus yet?

picture courtesy of the new york post

picture courtesy of the new york post

a few weeks ago details.com introduced us to the 1st male prostitute, “markus.”  ever since i read that article, i’ve been obsessed with wanting to know more about this neanderthal-looking gigilo, but unfortunately “the talk of shame” doesn’t have a nevada whoring-out budget.

but luckily my friends at the new york post DO have a nevada whoring-out budget, and reporter mandy stadtmiller spent $500 worth of time to learn about all about america’s first “prosti-dude” as she calls it.

check it out here!

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according to the brits, jackie harris and i have slept with the entire world

roseanne-show1

there is a scene from the t.v. show roseanne, that i quote so often, that sometimes it feels like it happened in my own life.  it is a scene in which jackie, roseanne’s sister, and jackie’s husband, fred, decide to have the “numbers” talk.  it goes down like this:

Fred: How many men did you date before we met?

Jackie Harris: Well, do you mean dated at all, or dated seriously?

Fred: Well, oh, I mean seriously.

Jackie Harris: Okay, I have to say… just a few.

Fred: Good. It’s not that I mind if you slept with lots of guys…

Jackie Harris:[chuckles] Oh, well slept with!

Jackie Harris: [chuckles harder] Well…

Jackie Harris: [soberly] That’s not what you asked me.

Fred: No I guess it wasn’t.

Jackie Harris: [chuckling] Well, Fred, don’t worry… it’s not that many. I’d – I’d saaay – three a year.

Fred: Since you were, what, eighteen?

Jackie Harris: [thinks] Okay, we’ll go with that.

Fred: [looking shocked] Oh, oh wow.

Jackie Harris: [getting defensive] Well, Fred! It’s not *that* many! Three a year for 20 years is, 60 – wow.

Fred: Gawd… I don’t even *know* 60 people.

Jackie Harris: Well, I didn’t *know* all of them.

i thought of this episode once again this morning when i discovered the “sex degrees of separation” calculator on the website of the british chain, lloyds pharmacy.  to promote sexual awareness, this calculator helps you work out how many direct and indirect sexual partners you have had in the sense of possible exposure to sexually transmitted diseases.  it totals up the numbers based on your number of partners, then their previous partners, and their former lovers, and so on for six “generations” of partners.

the average british bloke claims to have slept with 9 people, while the average british lass puts her number at 6.3, giving an average of 7.65.  according to the “sex degrees of separation” calculator, that means the average brit has slept with 2.8 million people, directly and indirectly.

this is interesting, informative, and i’m absolutely a fervent promoter of safe sex and learning about sexual health.  HOWEVER, i have several problems with lloyds and it’s little calculator…

1. lloyds expects people to remember their number of sexual partners.  ok this may be an easy feat for some.  but for people like jackie harris, that’s hard to do.  if you’ve been sexually active for 10 years or more, trying to think back a DECADE to remember some horrible one-night stand is not easy.

2. after you are done feeling like a giant whore, and you’ve tallied all the possible notches in your bed post you can remember, you then have to know their ages at the time you boned them!  now if you’re like jackie harris, trying to come up with a number was traumatizing enough, let alone trying to figure out when their birthday is.

3. so let’s say you actually made it to step three, the calculation.  then i congratulate you!  because i didn’t.  actually it wasn’t that i didn’t, so much as i COULDN’T.  just like when one gets a new ferrari, i wanted to “open this calculator up” and take it for a ride.  so i entered my age, and put that i had slept with over 50 people (this is all in the name of science).  and THIS is the answer i got back:

We are unable to perform this calculation.

what is the point of putting that option on there if your retarded calculator can’t even multiply!

my only theory is that lloyds pharmacy is owned by some uptight prude who wants to make people like jackie harris feel like a prostitute!

damn you lloyds!

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different strokes for different folks

gimpy hand

last night while waiting on the subway to take me back to brooklyn, i saw the hottest guy walking towards me.  i, of course, did what most girls do – ran my fingers through my hair to make sure it was perfect, licked my lips to give them their shiniest and poutiest potential, and stood straight with stomach flattened and breasts poking forward with just a bit of cleavage showing to tempt his eyes.  he continued to manuever his way through the crowd and as he got close to me i was prepared to flash him the smile that never fails me.  but then i saw it.

he had a gimpy hand.  a tiny, underdeveloped, partially functioning, gimpy hand.

i then had to ask myself “am i the most hypocritical, vain bitch on earth?”  i am FAR from perfect.  yet i pride myself on the fact that i can take a man who would never think i was his type into thinking i am the most irresistable women he has ever met.  it’s actually one of my favorite things to do.  yet, when i saw this super hot guy on the subway platform i couldn’t get the picture out of my head of him trying to finger me with those tiny little fingers.

ok, yes that was a completely inappropriate thought for me to have for several different reasons.  a)  he would obviously use his good arm to finger me and b) he probably gets more ass than i do.  at the end of the day he was still gorgeous.  and one thing i’ve learned about men with disabilities, is that there is a woman out there who is dying to rush in and take care of him.  it’s in our nature.

what i learned about myself is that, as bitchy as it sounds, underdeveloped limbs is one disability that i don’t know if i have the balls to handle in a relationship right now.  BUT it also made me think about the several disabilities i could totally live with, and actually would love to get to experience!

paraplegics – when i saw the movie murderball i spent the next 6 months looking for a boyfriend in a wheelchair.  that movie completely turned me on.  the guys were super hot, athletic and loved the fact that their penises still worked.  there is this whole scene in the movie about how paraplegics do the deed.  some positions involve wrapping a towel around the women’s waist, some positions are just done right in the wheelchair.  all i remember is that a lot of those positions involved the woman being dominating and it totally turned me on.

blindness – i could totally date a blind guy, however i feel like this could backfire on me.  what if assholes, a.k.a. people like me, started saying things behind my back like “if he could see, he would totally not be with that bitch.”  harsh.  beyond the petty gossip that would occur, the only thing that would truly annoy me about dating a blind man is i would always have to drive!  i don’t drive.  that’s why i live in new york city.  a train or cab or my feet can take me anywhere i need to be.  i never have to worry about having a designated driver and i never have to pay insurance premiums.  it’s great.  so i guess the only caveat to dating a blind man, is that i would only date a blind man in new york city.

deafness – i love live music.  and from what i hear (no pun intended, but it’s fitting) so do deaf people.  they can feel the beats of the drum, the strums of the bass and can totally get into it.  and the best part of going to shows with my deaf boyfriend is we would never have to scream at each other over the music to hear each other.  i would obviously have to learn sign language and we could use that.  sign language would also make me bi-lingual which would look good on my resume.  however, the deaf world is pretty exclusive and may not let me in.  i watched an episode of cold case once where this deaf guy was dating a hearing girl, and his deaf friends were not having it and murdered his ass!

we all judge each other.  some people don’t date fat people, some people don’t date people of another race, some people don’t date people in a different social class.  it’s all the same.  right or wrong?  i don’t know.  i do know that there is a possibility to change ones mind.  who knows, perhaps if i hadn’t pre-judged the gimpy armed subway boy, and had bothered to flash that smile, we could have met and i could have changed my opinion.  or maybe he looked at me and thought “keep dreaming honey.  i am way out of your league”

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horse fuck man die

DarwinBookJacket_350

Those 4 little words in a google search brought me upon one of the sickest videos I’ve seen in a while.  Note: when you are wasted, don’t take advice from the other wasted people around you about stuff you should look up on the internet at 2 AM.  I digress…

A 45-year-old Seattle man died from something called acute peritonitis. His colon was perforated while he was having sex with a horse.

The man, who died before he was dropped off at Enumclaw Community Hospital, was traced back to a 40-acre farm where investigators found hundreds of hours of videotape depicting men, including the one who died, having sex with horses. He had bought the stallion earlier this year. His family told a reporter they were surprised at the purchase.

Click here to see the video.  I warn you, it is highly disturbing.

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“some guys like ’em real stinky”

FootFetish068

last night my friend and i ended up at a foot fetish party in the lower east side of manhattan.  i promised the owner i would keep the name of the club anonymous, so i will respect that.  now unfortuantely, because it was a wednesday night and i had planned to be at a dive bar, i was not exactly “foot fetish party” appropriate.  i had on ripped jeans, no pedicure and i had been wearing flip flops all day.  feet were not hot.  so i decided my friend should go into the VIP as my undercover agent and i would stay up front to get the scoop from the others.

we went to the bar across the street and cleaned her up, got her down to as little clothes as possible, and washed her feet in the bathroom sink.  we headed back and began our investigation.  the guys up front were far from attractive.  one guy who came up to talk to us was wearing one of those wolf shirts and a pair of narsty (yea i said narsty) sweatpants.  i, of course, had no time for his shenanigans, but the two eastern european “working girls” i was with were quick to make him feel like he was brad pitt.

working girl 1 – “oh what’s that on your shirt?”

narsty guy – “it’s a wolf”

working girls 1 & 2 – “OHHHH”

narsty guy – “but i really like tigers and black panthers the most”

working girls 1 & 2 – “oh yea”

narsty guy – “RRRRR” (makes a big cat roaring sound)

that was when i decided to move to a second group of girls, who were discussing how to make the most money from these guys.  the conversation was pretty standard (in the foot fetish financial world) until one of them started talking about the type of shoes she was wearing:

warren buffet foot fetish girl 1 – “yea, i didn’t even wear open toed shoes, so guys aren’t really knowing what to do”

warren buffet foot fetish girl 2 – “it doesn’t matter cause you’re so fucking hot”

warren buffet foot fetish girl 1 – “yea, but my feet are getting all sweaty and stuff”

warren buffet foot fetish girl 2 – “some guys like ’em real stinky!”

warren buffet foot fetish girls 1 & 2 – BIG SIMULTANEOUS LAUGHS FROM BOTH

after these two encounters, i felt that i had learned all i needed to about the world of “footies” and decided it was time to go, but i realized my friend had still not come back so i sat around texting and entertaining myself.  when she finally returned there was a different look in her eyes.  MY UNDERCOVER AGENT HAD GONE ROGUE AND LET A MAN MASSAGE HER FEET!  I knew I had lost her.  so I said my goodbyes, told her to make that rent and jumped on the subway back home.

but of course this morning I got all the details:

– she only made $20, because she talks so much that she actually ended up befriending most of the men she encountered and didn’t work it like I told her she should.

– there were NBA stars in the club paying to lick women’s feet.  goes with my theory that the rich get bored easily and always have to find something new to turn them on.

– this party is every week, and men actually come from hundreds of miles a way to hook up with their same favorites every time.

– 10 minutes of “making love” to a foot = $20 (Seems like a bit of a rip off to me)

– those Craigslists ads asking for women with pretty feet…yea that’s probably the promoter of this party look for new girls to “put on the track”

– according to at least 3 of the men she encountered, including the creator of this party, my friend has some of the prettiest damn feet around.

i’ll admit, even though i don’t want a guy wearing a wolf t-shirt licking my foot for 10 minutes, i can think of worse ways to pay the bills.  i think my friend has officially become a fetish fan and will be returning to more parties and of course, i will have to join her.  i will come prepared next time though, a fresh pedi, a pair of kick ass open toed shoes, and some crisco.

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the incredible shrinking dick

viennasausages

one of the 1st things i ever wrote on this blog was an entry called penis or plastic?. it was about a study that showed the chemicals in certain plastic products were shrinking the genitals on newborn males.

well the shrinking penis phenomenon is only getting worse.

from the independent:

It’s official: Men really are the weaker sex

Evolution is being distorted by pollution, which damages genitals and the ability to father offspring, says new study. Geoffrey Lean reports.

The male gender is in danger, with incalculable consequences for both humans and wildlife, startling scientific research from around the world reveals.

The research – to be detailed tomorrow in the most comprehensive report yet published – shows that a host of common chemicals is feminising males of every class of vertebrate animals, from fish to mammals, including people.

for the complete article, click here

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claire bartel didn’t like it. why do you?

the-hand-that-rocks-the-cradle

my friend just revealed what may be the single most disturbing piece of information i’ve ever let enter my external auditory meatus:

she has a super hot male gynecologist who she is totally crushin’ on, and likes having a hot guy who sticks things in her woo-haa because since she’s so turned on by him, it keeps her nice and wet and lubed

i’ll let you sit with that for a minute……………………………………………………………………………….

ok first, male gyno – GROSS

second, hot male gyno – KILL ME

the last person i want to tell me that i have a slight yeast infection, or that those blisters down there look like herpes, or that the strong odor emitting from my crotch is bacterial vaginosis – IS A FUCKING HOT GUY THAT I WANT TO BANG

not only does she let him do his gyno business down there, they also have a great relationship and share “war stories” – she tells him about the time a condom got lost inside her – he tells her about the time he was a resident and delivered a baby with a blue condom stuck to it’s head

everything about this relationship is wrong, wrong, wrong. i just feel that your gyno should be a women in her mid to late 30’s who is like the sister that won’t judge you (at least not to your face), and will give you free packets of fluconazole. when my nipples get hard during the breast exam, my doctor knows it’s because the room is freezing, not because i want to get pounded on the examining table (while that does actually sound totally hot, it’s one of those fantasies that should never become a reality – see also: threesome, see also: gang bang)

i hope for her sake that her pap results come back all clear, because there is probably nothing that can extinguish an indecent affair faster than the guy you lust after telling you that you have warts.

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