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Posts

  • It Turns Out My Vagina is Not More Important Than Social Justice

    Do you ever have those moments where you are doing something mundane, like washing dishes, and suddenly a memory pops into your head that you hadn’t thought of in a long time? It’s almost like an assault of your unconscious. Your brain suddenly insisting, “Hey! You did this! Remember it!!!”

    That happened to me the other day when I was chatting with my friend Grace. We were having a perfectly average, everyday conversation about chakras. You know… one of those totally run-of-the-mill dialogues about your spirit body being fractured because of an esoteric violation in the cosmic stratosphere. We’ve ALL been there right? But then suddenly I had a memory of an event in my past that I had totally forgotten had ever taken place.

    Toni: I just had this crazy memory of when I was in the 8th grade. It was the night before the last day of school, and I was hanging out with my friends drinking and smoking pot. At some point everyone had to go home, I guess because we were 14 and it was a school night.

    Grace: These things happen.

    Toni: But for whatever reason, I didn’t go home. And neither did these two boys I was friends with. We all went to the Boston garden to keep drinking and smoking weed. It was a warm outside, so we ended up staying there the entire night! I think my mom was out of town, so my dad wouldn’t have really noticed if I had come home or not.

    Grace: Coming home can be remarkably unnoticeable.

    Toni: One of the guys was the dude I had lost my virginity to. I took his v-card too might I add. And the other dude was his best friend. So… I’m not quite sure how exactly I finagled this, but I remember distinctly that I would make out with one guy for a while, while the other one went for a walk or did whatever. Then when I got bored of that guy, I would leave to go find the other dude and make out with him for a while.

    Grace: That’s pretty gangster.

    Toni: Right? Especially for an 8th grader? I mean that is kind of sexually aggressive, and psychologically manipulative. I’m pretty sure they both assumed I was just making out with them, and had no idea what I was doing when I was gone.

    Grace: That is some pretty impressive slight of hand! You were like the David Blain of Making out!

    Toni: They were both pretty hot so I had to do something. But then the next day, things kind of went to shit. One of the dudes was dating my friend, and the other dude my other friend had a super crush on. The boys and I were all keeping our mouths shut about what happened, but I had these hickies all over my neck that everyone wanted an explanation for.

    Grace: You’re a WASP, didn’t you have turtleneck you could wear!?

    Toni: I know! My one friend thought it was her boyfriend that gave me the hickies, but I admitted nothing. Especially because I had a boyfriend too! When my boyfriend saw my neck, I told him that I had fallen in a bush.

    Grace: Hickies do look like bush scrapes…never.

    Toni: I panicked! I hadn’t noticed them because I never went home, and was still wearing the same clothes from the day before! We slept in the Boston Gardens and then went straight to school. In reality I should have just gone home. But we were going on a class trip to the amusement park, and I didn’t want to miss out on that – because I was still a child who liked roller coasters more than worrying about getting caught cheating!

    Grace: We all have our priorities.

    Toni: I was so tired that when my boyfriend confronted me, falling in a bush was the first thing that came to my mind. I fell in a bush! That’s what’s all over my neck! Bush! At first he believed me. Or maybe he just wanted to believe me. But whatever the case, he stopped asking questions. I had almost gotten away with it, but then I told one of my best friends what really happened. You know, because half the fun of making out with people is talking about it.

    Grace: Of course.

    Toni: But my best friend ended up telling my boyfriend!!! And when I asked her why she did that, she explained that she felt like she had too – that because they were both black, it was her racial duty to tell him what happened.

    Grace: So the racial solidarity superseded the girl code.

    Toni: Exactly! It wasn’t like she hadn’t kept secrets of mine before or after that. In fact she kept a lot of them. But this secret she couldn’t keep.

    Grace: Race vs. gender loyalty is tricky.

    Toni: It is! I think by the end of the day, the entire school knew about my sexcapade moment in the park. My friends were really pissed at me for my making out with their boyfriends, the dudes were upset I was making out with both of them, and my boyfriend was SUPER upset I cheated and lied to him. But I totally understood why my friend told on me. Even at that young age I knew that ultimately, my vagina wasn’t more important than social justice. And besides, at least I got to ride the roller coaster.

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    January 25, 2016 • Old School Stories, Relationships, Sex Stuff • Views: 1175

  • How To Know Which Dude To Breed With?

    Now that I’m in my 30’s – I am surrounded by women who are dealing with their fertility. I have friends that have no interest in procreating, some who are squatting out babies, and others that are squatting on men to try and make some. No matter what their choice, the 30’s are the time when it’s on our minds, and we ladies have to make a decision.

    To breed or not to breed. That is the question.

    If you don’t want to have kids, there is a beautiful freedom to that. There is no pressure to settle down, or find a guy you have to deal with. (Sorry that was my auto correct. I meant to say get to spend your life with because love is eternal). You can be more open to a relationship happening anytime anywhere because there isn’t that impending biological clock knocking you over the head to get knocked up.

    Yet when you want kids, (unless you are down to do it on your own), the current paradigm is so find some guy to go on the journey with you. Of course in an ideal world we could have babies, live in women’s communes, watch each other’s children, and take on lovers as we please. But unless you are ready to hang out with a chick named Chakra and whittle wood, people in intentional polyamorous communities are still pretty wacky.

    Since I lived in NYC for so long, there is large portion of my friends who are single, are into the idea of birthing children, yet don’t know whom they want to produce with. When you live in an urban environment, you tend to have a lot of options of potential DNA to blend with yours. There is that cute skater, the guy that works at the office across from yours, or the dude at the green juice bar that always adds EXTRA ginger for you. Awww shucks, you know how I need to clean out my system juice guy!

    Potential men to poke you are everywhere! Yet they are also nowhere because post-modern people really suck. Guys that text you at 1am asking “wassup,” or that care more about egos than they do about you. The world is filled with narcissists, douche bags, and greedy fucks. And if you happen to find a nice one, you probably think he’s too nice, making it too easy, and then don’t give him the time of day – humans are absurd!

    The other great question is who to make babies with?! How do you know who is the guy you want to hang around for the next 18 years? Of course there is the obvious. Is he a murderer? Has he ever worshipped the devil? Does he drink Diet Dr. Pepper? Yet assuming he is kind, self sufficient, and folds his own laundry, then how do you know if you found the one to give your ovaries to!?

    Here is my Toni Bologna checklist to help you make this pivotal decision.

    1) Do you like sleeping with him once a week?
    2) Do you like eating with him?
    3) Do you like watching TV with him?

    That’s pretty much it.

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    August 19, 2015 • Musings, Sex Stuff, Vagina Stuff, Women's Business • Views: 2641

  • It turns out the Market is Over Saturated with Vagina!

    A writer for Vanity Fair, Nancy Jo Sales, did an expose on the dating lives of 20-somethings in NYC – looking into how “hook-up” culture has impacted their sexuality.

    According to this article, financial fuck wads who work at Wall Street are getting laid left and right. Because of Tinder/Hinge/ STD Transfer Ultimate App, guys like Alex can, “rack up 100 girls I’ve slept with in a year.” That’s a lot of condoms A-rod 😉 I hope you’ve diversified your portfolio and invested in Trojan!

    It today’s fast pace world, a sweet talker like Marty can sleep with at least 40 women over a fiscal year by this pretty impressive strategy. He simply, “sort of plays that I could be a boyfriend kind of guy, in order to win them over, but then they start wanting me to care more … and I just don’t.” BRILLIANT WORK MARTY!

    What I find most horrifying about this article is not that people in their 20’s want to get naked and bump crotches. Nor that Men think it’s “cool” to flip through women like a Golfer’s Digest at the dentist’s office. The problem isn’t that modern women are “too easy” and it’s effecting intimacy for all. NO! The alarming part of this story is who are these women that sleep with guys who work on Wall Street?!! Especially ones named Marty!?

    When I lived in NYC I was once at this fancy club where a Wall Street guy tried to hit on me. I started asking him about sub prime mortgages and if he ever invested in triple bottom line socially responsible businesses – and his dick got soft in front of my eyes. He RAN away from me, never to return.

    I guess talking to me is like the anti-Viagra for Wall Street men.

    But ladies, it is our civic responsibility to question the ethics of these guys and shame them for their business practices, not reward them with the pot of gold betwixt our thighs!

    If women want to sleep with 2,000 guys on Tinder then god bless them. Just not Wall Street guys! We can’t flood their market with our precious poonanies. NO!! We have keep them wrapped up tight and create a deficit. The pussy stock will rise if we generate scarcity.

    As long as these guys are boning chicks, they are going to keep living their lives thinking they are god’s gift, and continue making repulsive decisions about business. They will wake up feeling justified, and morally unambiguous that their profit models are destroying the planet. Let’s not waste our time slut shaming young women of the world, but redirecting their lady parts towards more deserving men!

    So my fellow females… sleep with as many guys as you want during the exploration of your sexual identity. Just not douchey finance dickheads! Have sex with that tortured artist, the dude with scraggily ponytail making your green juice, or the guy who started that solar company. Go give that nerd head who’s trying to find alternative fuel sources. Let him bust a nut on your tits!

    PLEASE… NOT THESE GUYS

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    August 10, 2015 • Current Events, Musings, Vagina Stuff, Women's Business • Views: 2614

  • Is Your Vagina A Dictator of Love?

    Well it’s official. I think every one of my friends believes that I live inside a giant gaping vulva. The impression seems to be that my house is in fact the folds and billows of a massive pink vagina that I deliver myself out of every morning – covered in birth cheese. In truth, at this exact moment half my body is still inside my uterine abode, because it is just so warm and gooey in there!

    Otherwise how can it be explained that not one, not two, but four people sent me this article entitled “The Pussy Test: How to Tell If You Are With The Right Partner.”

    The author suggests that in order to tell if your relationship is truly working, you should be able to ask your partner to “sit comfortably between your legs and explore your pussy. I mean really look and touch you sweetly and slowly and take her or his time. Ask her or him to take a look around, spread your pussy open, slip her or his finger up and down and around. Not in just yet. Have her or him massage your outer lips and pull back the hood of your clit and admire you.”

    The author’s rational is that a woman’s lotus flower is an often under appreciated organ, and it should be revered as the magical blossom it is. She also suggests that if you do not feel able to ask your sexual partner to bask in the glory of your yoni, then you are probably with the wrong person.

    “If you don’t feel comfortable asking the person you’re with to do that, you have to question your relationship with your body and your sexuality. If that relationship is in question, if you’re not whole in that way, how can you be expecting to find a relationship with another human that’s whole?”

    Now here is my question. How can I intellectually agree with something so wholeheartedly, yet have ZERO interest in doing this in my life EVER…. with anyone.

    I feel my disinterest in this ritual has nothing to do with my feelings about my body, or the kind soul trying to penetrate it, but rather there are so many other things I would rather do with my time. Maybe my problem is that I know my body too well? I am pretty much a two pump chump… meaning it doesn’t’ take that much to get me off. So why not do something else with my afternoon like say, read about the prison industrial complex.

    Although I support this effort philosophically, I also am not convinced that it is the only barometer of love for the other, or the self. Feeling comfortable doesn’t mean you yearn to be probed like an alien abductee. Although the quest to glorify all things pussy related is a righteous one – I don’t think the kitty between your thighs is the exclusive decider of your ideal committed relationship. Maybe your perfect partner unloads the dishwasher and does their own laundry?

    Sexuality is complicated, fleeting, hypocritical, finicky, and temperamental – especially for women! We have our monthly moon cycles to contend with. There are a lot of things I would be down for when ovulating – but then a few days later all I want is to watch Netflix and eat brownie batter. That is just the way it is. There are ebbs and flows to desire, and a variety of factors that influence it. Not every person that you would want to gaze inside your love gorge is someone you want to hang out with at Home Depot.

    So by all means – engage in this ceremony if it speaks to you, but I would also suggest the Bed Bath and Beyond test.

    (Maybe this is all you want? Some modern romance!)

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    February 23, 2015 • Current Events, Health, Musings, Relationships, Vagina Stuff, Women's Business • Views: 2780

  • It Turns Out Women Are Just as Perverted as Men!

    Life if full of contradictions. We need the sun for vitamin D, but too much sun can cause cancer. Sunscreen might help prevent skin cancer, but it also might cause cancer from all the fucked up chemicals in it. Nothing is exactly how it seems. The universe is a hazy shade of grey.

    Perhaps… 50 shades of it?

    Sorry… I had to go there.

    The media’s portrayal of female sexuality remains a great paradoxes. We are told we can sleep with guys, yet not too many guys, but as many guys as we want as long as we “lean in” while being a “Tiger Mom” who lost all our baby weight! I read a lot about women and their lady parts because you know… I have a vagina, and get my period, and gross!!!

    I recently came across this article on Jezebel, where the author tricked her boyfriend into seeing a German movie called “Wetlands.” If you know anything about German movies that involve sex, you know that shit is going to get weird real fast. The movie narrative (based off a book) uses flashbacks to tell the story, because the main character, Helen, is stuck in the hospital from cutting her ass open while shaving around her hemorrhoids. A common mistake! The Jezebel author describes Helen as “sexually empowered” and “knowing what she wants” – which involves rubbing her gaping genitals on a toilet seat covered in feces, shoving an avocado up her twatt, and my personal favorite “putting the shower head inside herself and filling her vagina with water until she feels like she’ll burst. Then she pushes until the entire thing feels like it’s going to fall out.”

    Now call me old fashioned, but seriously WTF????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    As a feminist I am supposed to clap my chubby little hands at all things women do to express their deepest desires. Yet I am pretty sure that if this story were about a man I would have just as many questions. Mainly, were you hugged enough as a kid?

    I am happy that women’s sexuality is being depicted as complex. This is progress. You wouldn’t have seen this film or read the novel in the fifties (although it would have made for a pretty epic “Leave it To Beaver” episode). Truth be told, this type of sexual behavior makes me want to hurl. Not because I am some prude who thinks they shouldn’t do it…. BUT HOLY HELL DOESN’T THAT HURT AND ISN’T THAT DANGEROUS??!!

    This is my question: when people’s sexual identities are so intense, doesn’t that border on obsession? Sex is cool and all and should be a priority, but it takes a lot of time to shove a variety of vegetables inside your body. Time that could be spent learning how to farm organically, or petitioning politicians to stop Fracking. Isn’t there a balance between getting freaky like how Helen “fingers her ass until her fingers are brown with butt sleaze,” and not having your sexual preferences take over your life? Is this really a depiction of what “sexual empowerment” looks like? It just seems to me that when people have such vastly extreme tastes, that maybe they are working out something that is much deeper that what can be achieved through aggressive masturbation.

    Sex is just as addictive as any drug, and just as powerful of a distraction from facing reality. Society is struggling with vast terrifying predicaments and like sex and pornography are a few of the key ways grown-ups check out from dealing emotionally with our lives.

    Of course this logic applies to TV, smoking pot, or watching sleepy cat videos on Youtube – soooo cute!!!!! We all run from the responsibility of figuring out how to revolt from the 1% Lizard-People elite who control the planet and will soon be using our blood to fuel for their rocket ship to Mars after this planet has been destroyed by their greed. Yet the more we spend our time jerking off, the more we are not participating positively to the collective effort to better the world for the future.

    I’m glad people are finally waking up to the fact that women can be just as perverted as men. That said, I don’t jump up and down every time I hear about a guy wanting to a martini glass full of a women’s shit; I also won’t be moved to hear about a chick eating a semen covered pizza. Perhaps if the dude was having his diarrhea cocktail while presenting his plan to end sex trafficking at the United Nations, or the woman was munching on her delicious treat up in a tree in the rainforest to protest the degeneration of our most precious source of oxygen, then I would want to know all about it!

    (I mean I guess wiping your menses on your face is a good idea?)

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    January 7, 2015 • Current Events, Musings, Sex Stuff, Vagina Stuff, Women's Business • Views: 7359

  • Breaking The Internet With An Ass

    You guys… a photo of Kim Kardashian’s ass is breaking the fucking internet in half!! Why you ask? Because it is just SOOOOO WORTH TALKING ABOUT!!! People are so irrationally inspired to communicate about her shiny butt that the interwebs will clog with opinions and semen!!!

    Is this image photo shopped?

    Does she have ass implants?

    Should we shame her for being slutty and a mother?

    What does this mean about modern femininity and the objectification of the female form?

    Does anybody have Kleenex?

    Do you see what I am doing here? I am making fun of talking about Kim’s ass while still taking about Kim’s ass!! I am winning!! I am making you think I am totally above talking about her butt, when in fact I am not. And neither are you because you are reading this!

    Kim Kardashian’s ass IS breaking the Internet because we secretly want it to.

    This is it. Right here. The problem with humanity. Even though most of us care about the destruction of the environment, endless wars, political perversion, the Federal Reserve, corporate corruption blah blah blah, we are also still vastly influenced by our primal brains. Seeking out complex philosophical profundity is hard work, where basic visual titillation is not.

    Our higher rational mind is something we have to train, cultivate, and challenge while our reptilian instincts are so easy to access with little to no effort. Even intellectuals who scoff at the absurdity of modernity and would never stoop so low as to validate pop culture references, will still look at Kim’s ass FIRST if paired next to a dissertation about NATO’s impact on the world’s economy. Maybe even just a quick glance, but I guarantee their eyes would helplessly be drawn to her ripe cheeks.

    It is not our fault that we are mesmerized by her crack. Its’ abyss is pulling us towards a simpler and safer place than the cold dark truth of reality. Thinking, analyzing, and critiquing existence is exhausting. Getting lost in Kim’s buttocks is not. In fact, it’s relaxing. I can just picture myself cozying between her mounds and forgetting all the stresses of life. When sandwiched between her cheeks you don’t have to think about global warming, but instead can melt into the pink warmth of physical comfort.
    It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to dissect why people are drawn to simplistic celebrity news rather then complex political theory. Thinking doesn’t necessarily make you happier. Although willful ignorance is not exactly admirable, it is understandable. Rather than questioning the long-term implications of Russia’s courtship of China, we turn our attention towards concepts that are easier to grasp and hold onto…like a ripe rump.

    We don’t have to beat ourselves up for this impulse. It’s natural to avoid pain and prefer pleasure, or at least ease. The ideal human condition isn’t to abandon all frivolousness in exchange for relentless truth seeking. There needs to be a balance between semi superficial pursuits of carnality and academic contemplation. The absurdity isn’t that we want to look at a sweet supple ass. The insanity is that we overcomplicate this impulse and spend too much time trying to rationalize it. Rather than spending our energy talking about serious things seriously, we talk about ridiculous things as if they were serious.

    We want look at stupid trashy shit because sometimes we feel stupid and trashy. There is no need to defend that. Rather than deconstructing the meta meaning of a butt, why not save our energy and do that for shit that actually matters and just enjoy the ass for what it is….a full moon setting in the shadow of existential awareness.

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    November 12, 2014 • Current Events, Education, Musings, Political Banter • Views: 1654

  • Losing My Virginity

    I am not sure why I feel compelled to tell this story. Maybe because I spent an ample amount of time watching Madonna videos with my child over the weekend? By the way, if you ever want to challenge yourself intellectually, try watching “Like a Prayer” with a four-year old who expects you to explain the symbolism of making out with a black Jesus statue that cries blood.

    When we got to “Like A Virgin,” and I watched as Madonna writhed around Venice with a lion, I began to think back to my own virginity. Where had that pesky thing gone, and could I get it back for this networking party I am going to?

    Virginity is sacred. I say that not from a religious or moral perspective, but rather an observation of its impermanence. There is innocence to virginity because you are protected from the absurdity of mashing your genitals against another person. Although at times if can be hard to appreciate, it is still something to maintain and cultivate like a bed of flowers – even if you want someone to garden with. Virginity deserves to be cherished. Once you start having sex, you never stop. Everything after it is colored with a different context. A kiss no longer begs the question of if it will lead to sex – but when. That is the main reason to hold to your virginity is once you let go, it never comes back.

    Fly little virginity bird… fly far far away!

    We all have our “losing our virginity” stories…. This just happens to me mine.

    I was in the 8th grade, and one of my best friend’s was the “bad boy” of our class – so obviously I was into him. By the way… I went to a really preppy school, so being “bad” meant he took French instead of Latin. One day we were on the phone talking about sex while I was doing my math homework.

    Toni: What is the big deal? I don’t get it. Anyway… do you know what 30% of the square root of whatever is?
    The Boy: I don’t know… Hey, so maybe we should just do it and find out what it’s all about?
    Toni: Okay fine.

    I actually didn’t really care what it was all about, or what the big deal was. I had never even kissed a boy except once while playing “truth or dare.” It wasn’t the worst thing ever, but I also found that experience to be less enjoyable than eating skittles. I guess I was curious about sex… but I think my real motivation was that I was bored.

    The Boy came over while my parents were at the movies. He brought some weed and condoms even though I am pretty sure neither of us had any STDs, nor had I even gotten my period yet. We smoked a joint, and reality melted in that unique way that it does when you get high at 14.

    We went over to my bunk bed, and he went down on me. It lasted for about an hour, and I know that because I was looking at this pink radio clock next to my head. It would play “Here Comes The Sun” to wake me up, and I remember thinking how that song was probably my least favorite of Beatles – except for Revolution! That one really sucks. I didn’t hate what The Boy was doing, but I also wasn’t really paying attention. I knew it was a nice gesture though.

    Eventually I got up, and we sat next to each other wondering what to do next. We talked a little bit about how our English teacher was an asshole, and how science class would be okay if we dissected more stuff. We then decided that They Boy should take off his pants. Now, I had never seen a penis besides my brother’s when we were kids in the bath, so I didn’t understand why The Boy’s was pointing upwards rather than hanging down. I asked The Boy “Why is your penis floating like that?” and he looked at me REALLY confused.

    You guys this was the 90-s!! There was no easy access to porn! I had never seen an erection before!!! The only adult nudity I had ever been exposed to was my grandfather’s Playboys – and those were all naked girls. I had heard of boners before, but I didn’t really know what it meant in the flesh.

    After staring at his suspended penis for a while, we then discussed the concept of my giving him a blowjob – which also needed an explanation. I felt this was a fair trade considering The Boy’s previous effort, but I was also tentative about actually putting a penis in my mouth.

    Toni: But you pee out of there?

    I then had the amazing idea of going down stairs to get coffee ice cream to put on his penis so it would taste better. I guess had a lot to learn about the laws of physics, and the effects of cold on tissue… but I was right about the ice cream tasting delicious.

    We then had sex. At least we both thought we did. At one point he told me to turn around so we could try doggy style. I still had braces on my teeth.

    We then swore each other to secrecy and went back to being friends. I feel lucky that I happened to have a partner who was not only kind, but also prioritized my taste buds over his shrinkage. Even though we were both WAYYYYY to young to be having sex, at least he spoke French.

    (Here is my braces clad 8th grade self)

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    November 10, 2014 • Musings, Old School Stories, Relationships, Sex Stuff, Vagina Stuff • Views: 3428

  • Manicuring Pubic Grass

    Kids these days are waxing off their public hair so their genitalia looks like Daddy Warbuck’s head. Ripping out their private fabric so they’re as smooth as a marble countertop at an ice cream shop.  It is all the rage in porno culture and has become so pervasive that having a full bush is as rare as an honest politician. As a feminist, I am not supposed to be into  because said hair has a functional/sanitary purpose, and  removing it leaves women vulnerable to bacteria.  At the same time, it can block our little man in the canoe, so that is something to consider…. just saying.

    There’s a lot of rhetoric around men liking women to shave/wax because they want them to look like little girls, but I don’t really think that’s true. Most guys I know haven’t seen a lot of naked little girls, nor do they lust after them.  I don’t think a hairless cootch is a return to some sexual awakening because the majority of eight year old boys aren’t getting any. I think guys like it because it is easier to see what is going on and when his face is buried in the canyon, the hint of pee isn’t lingering in the follicles. Just as there are practical reasons to keep your pubic curtain, there also are reasons to spread it.

    Although there is logic to manicuring one’s pubic grass so it doesn’t get stuck in the teeth of  a loved one, I also think there is great potential in branding your crotch with the shape of your hair.  I mean, can’t we get more creative than a “landing strip?”  Why bother going through the trouble only to end up with a Hitler mustache?

    Why not wax your pubes into an outline of an om to prove your spirituality? Or demonstrate your punk rock personality with a vaginal silhouette of Iggy Pop? I think preppy girls should groom into a Burberry plaid and intellectual women could perhaps coif their tufts into prose from Kierkegaard. There is so much potential that is wasted when the whole mane is stripped away.

    More ideas worth consideration (applicable for men too btw — you don’t want to tickle your lady friend in the nose when her mouth is full of oysters):

    1) An alien landing pad (no explanation needed)
    2) A selfie (obvi)
    3) A bottle of champagne (so everyone knows you are a boss)
    4) Who you are voting for in the next election (so your politics are known before things get too far)
    5) An iPhone (so it gets lots of attention and finger work)
    6) A map (again, no explanation needed)

     

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    September 18, 2014 • Musings, Vagina Stuff, Women's Business • Views: 2221

  • Do You Like Kissing for Kissing’s Sake?

    Have you ever wondered why we lick each other’s tongues? Kissing is one of those rituals that seems normal, but when you think about it for too long it is actually strange as fuck. What possess us to open our mouths at each other, and then mush them together? It is not like horses kiss… or lizards? Why do us humans have the desire to smack our lips together in a somewhat rhythmic fashion?

    There are a couple of theories. One is that just like birds or monkeys, humans used to “mouthfeed” their young. Meaning prehistoric Mammas would chew up their tiger meat, and then spit it into their baby’s faces for nourishment. I feel like I missed out on some pretty cool opportunities to get my kid to eat steamed Kale by not doing this. Just saying. So there was this pre-existing practice of mouths swapping contents, but instead of food adults would exchange salvia. YUM!

    Yet the reason why tasting another person’s slobber is relevant, is because there is a lot of biological information about a person’s health inside their drool. So licking up spittle is a way of mate selection… the better the taste and the better the kissers, the better the reproducers. So that is why some people taste like rat skin! Thanks nature!

    Even though we all enjoy kissing, I do think that the genders have different relationships it. Often times, chicks like to kiss for kissing’s sake. That is why drunk girls will get all sloppy and kiss each other. Don’t freak out…. I am not hating on inebriated same sex making out. I have done it. But it wasn’t because I wanted to feel my friend’s boobs or anything – I just wanted to experience the sensation of the kiss. A girl can be totally satisfied by a kiss, and in many cases that is all she wants.

    Just because a girl kisses you doesn’t mean she wants to fuck you, but I would bet 99 times out of 99 times when a guy kisses you, he is basically saying “lets do this with our crotches too okay?” Dudes mostly regard kissing as a precursor to sex. I bet a tongue going into a mouth just reminds them of other pointy things they have that likes going into stuff. When you kiss guy, they get a boner, and then they are like “hey, this wont’ go away until I put it inside of something warm. So you have any holes you want filled or what?”

    It is not that ladies owe a guy sex just because she kisses him, but chances are that he is going to bring it up – since it is up anyway. So for the girls who want to make out but not bang, they then have to say, “maybe you need to put that into a cup of custard instead of me because I just was just looking for a kiss.” But it is kind of awkward to reject a guy after you kissed him because he gets this sad disappointed look on his face, like you just kicked a kitten in the twatt.

    Sooooo I have an amazing idea to solve this problem. You know how dudes drug girls with roofies? Chicks should drug guys with anti-boner pills before kissing. They could just slip it in their Miller Light, make out as much as they want, but not have to deal with him trying to poke her with his penis. Everybody wins!

    (Here is Miley Cyrus kissing some pretty weird shit – you’re welcome)

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    September 4, 2014 • Musings, Relationships, Sex Stuff • Views: 6924