date machine : zeitgeisty

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

My date with airheadgenius and amboabe

Date Machine: The MYTH of TRUE LOVE is like a CANCER in the SOUL...plus throbbage

zeitgeisty — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 17:19:00 GMT

I find it hilarious that my mother still believes in the concept of a ‘soulmate’.

This is a woman as cynical as any you’d ever meet. Cynical, sarcastic, biting, eviscerating, and yet she still believes in true love. I was up at my parents this week, as I had strep throat and had to take an emergency trip upstate to get antibiotics. On a short sidebar here, don’t ever get strep throat, as it’s the single most painful thing I’ve ever experienced in my life – and I have quite a high pain threshold. My glands on the left side of my neck swelled up to baseball sized proportions, and even the thought of swallowing induced a stabbing agony that was indeed highly wearisome.

Anyway, I had to get back into the city for work, as I’ve got a project that I’ve got finish up this week so I caught a ride with my mother at the ungodly hour of 6am. She makes this commute every day to teach, whereas I generally roll out of bed around 930. On the way in, we were talking about the show In Treatment on HBO, and my mother brought up an old girlfriend of mine that looked like one of the characters. Then she said something along the lines of, who knows maybe if you had been 5 years older when you met her, you would have gotten married. I found it a bit of an odd statement, but obviously my mother is concerned that I’m never going to get hitched.

I told her the same thing I always say, how past a certain age it just becomes less and less likely for people - especially men – to get into that 'head'. She responded that maybe if I found my soulmate I would feel differently. Like this is actually something that exists. To me the concept of the ‘soulmate’ is as big a fantasy as the easter bunny. I told her that’s never going to happen and that the odds of finding someone I could picture being with for the rest of my life without throwing myself headfirst off of a tall building are next to nil.

She then said, ‘Well lots of people still do it.. it’s much easier for a man your age than it is for a woman…an older man can always find a younger woman, it’s not the same the other way around’.

The thing is, older or younger it makes no difference - it’s the same deal…there is no such thing as a SOULMATE. I defy anyone here to lay claim to one and anyone who does is delusional and ultimately in for a rude awakening.

I have to say I was a bit surprised by the whole conversation. Even though this woman knows me better than practically anyone in the world, she still holds out hope in her heart that I’m going to find ‘true love’, and I’m sure in her mind it will be with someone that SHE’LL love as well. To tell you the truth it made me a tad depressed, that combined with my aching throat made my early morning quite a bummer.

Have I ever found 'true love'? No. What does that even mean ' True Love'? Isn't it supposed to mean finding someone who loves you uncondtionally, accepts you totally and doesn't try and change you, guilt you or manipulate you. Someone who would never think to aggress upon you passively, actively or otherwise. Someone who shares your passions, who is loyal as a St. Bernard, and who never tries to make you feel bad.. Isn't that 'true love'... nope.. never found it - not even close. The whole idea of it is evil when you think about it. Sold to us like cigarettes.. one gives you cancer of the lungs, and the other gives you a cancer in your soul.

big penis vs small penis

mud tacos

Too old to love

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

My date with airheadgenius and amboabe

Sex Machine: BIG penis vs SMALL penis - thoughts on SIZE...plus throbbage - UPDATED!!

zeitgeisty — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 04:05:00 GMT

That daily knob-less AHG had up the other day got me a thinkin' about penis.

When you ruminate on it, other than religion, penis anxiety has probably caused more bitterness, rage, violence and tragedy than any other factor since the dawn of man. I mean, you just know that Hitler had a small penis. It's historical fact that he only had one ball. Napoleon conquered Russia, and what probably gave him the impetus was his fury at having a miniscule wang. Due to that Corsican's cornichon, untold misery was inflicted on god knows how many Russians!!..

If you look at it clearly, as George Carlin once remarked.. all the missiles, bombs, and bullets.. they're all shaped like penis!.. Coincidence? I think not.

When I was growing up, I hit puberty VERY late... I can still remember the shame I felt in the locker room, when we had to change to go swimming. I was fat as a hedgehog with a tiny little dick-let. I was completely hairless, and I was about 6 inches shorter than most everyone else. I looked like a pasty cupid, all I needed were the little wings and a bow.

I remember there was this kid John Gaetti (I changed the last name here, 'cause I don't wanna make that prick's head swell - pardon the pun), who had the hugest shlong I'd ever seen. I mean this thing was like a python. It would practically drag on the wet tile as he'd horse around the locker room. Seriously, this guy would prance around practically twirling his giant member like a meat lasso. You'd seriously have to duck out of the way to avoid this boy's flesh hose. On top of that, the guy was covered in pubic hair. He was swarthy like the devil. Tufts of darkness leapt out at you from all angles. This guy was masculinity personified.

I loathed going to gym class when we had to swim. It was humiliating.

Then one day, seemingly over night, I looked down and I found a baby's arm swaddled in thick black brush where my microscopic naked peen had been.

Moreover, a few sprouts were even popping up under my arms. I can't tell you what a relief it was. For years, I thought I'd never grow. I'd look at my father's mammoth rod in the shower and ask him if mine would ever be that big, and he'd say in his french accent...

'yes, one day you'll ave a beeeeeeeg deeck like me, don't worry about eet!!!

My father always had a way of putting things...

Anyway, sure enough - he was right. I have to say, that being well endowed is far better than having a shrimp for a penis. I can tell you this, as I've experienced both. You see, it's just one more thing you can cross off the list. One LESS thing you have to worry about and yes it does give one a certain amount of confidence.

I used to have a good friend of mine that had a micro-phallus, that was deeply affected by it. He never got laid because he was too afraid to take down his pants in front of a woman...of course it could also have been that he bore a striking resemblance to John Wayne Gacy... but I guess that's beside the fact. This poor guy lived a life tormented and for what? His eensy weensy peensy.

Women are always complaining of body issues, but it's just not the same thing. The cock is a symbol of power and virility. As men we are brought up thinking that with out a prick the size of the Sears tower, you're somehow less of a man. You hear a lot of women talk about how 'size doesn't matter', but I don't know how many women - after having been poled into oblivion by my gargantuan love pump - have told me about some pathetic guy they once went out with that had a cocktail frank where his knockwurst should have been.

So much for 'size doesn't matter'...

The worst thing about having small penis, is that you can't do anything about it. There really is no operation, or pill, or pump that can really do the trick. This is the key difference when women try to compare 'breast size' to 'penis size' in terms of self confidence. At least a woman can go get her boobs done. Men have no such solution.

In the end, if you think about it, it's all pretty ridiculous. Penis size should not be the issue that everyone makes it out to be. The other night, I was watching an interview with Mickey Rooney on TCM. I was enthralled at this guy's stories, and talent, and the fact that he was still so passionate about his work at his advanced age. It also ran through my mind that this guy must have a petite peen. Well, you know Mickey Rooney is a pretty short guy and all. Anyway, the reason I thought that was due to the realization that all these ridiculous rules we make up for ourselves don't mean a damn thing. Our lives should be built up on more important stuff than the size of our pricks. Look at Mickey Rooney!!... He was the number one star of the whole WORLD!!... the WORLD!!!...

Ok... bigger isn't always better..

mud tacos

Too old to love

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Sex Machine: Diary of a Sperm Donor

Sex Machine: Picking Up Women in Gay Bars

amboabe — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 23:51:00 GMT

So as you’ve probably heard I had drinks with Airheadgenuis and Zeitgeisty the other day. We spent the better part of the evening in a gay bar, with softcore porn playing in monitors underneath the tables and big ticket Hollywood movies like The Great Santini and Polanski’s Tess projected against the far wall.

According to guy lore, gay bars are the easiest places for a straight man to meet a woman. I remember casting the first short I directed several years ago. I posted ads in Backstage West and met with dozens of actors afterhours in my boss’s Beverly Hills office.

I remember one guy I spoke with jumped very quickly from telling stories about his acting background into tales of his sexual prowess. It seems some male actors in LA are more excited about their prospects for having sex than they are about working. Hey look, ma! Somebody fucked me! Can you believe it?

This man swore that he could have sex with any woman in a gay bar. Their defenses are down, they feel safe, they vamp suggestively without having to worry that some guy is going to get the wrong idea, and they tend to drink heavily, chugging fruity two-for-one specials.

I had originally planned on shooting the short as an all-nude production. When I mentioned this to they actor he immediately stood up from his chair. “I’ll strip right now, if you want,” he said. “I’m not ashamed of my body at all. You want me to get all the way naked?”

I’ve always had mixed feelings about gay bars. I don’t like the idea of separating social groups based on sexual preference. Bars are bars. People get drunk, they dance, they try and meet someone new, many wind up bringing someone home later on. You’re a little less likely to hear Tom Petty or Dire Straights in a gay bar, but otherwise, the idea is basically the same.

On the other hand, the gay bars I’ve been to have felt less serious and weighted down with social posturing than other straight bars. Would that there were more straight bars with porno playing on the walls and colors outside of the red and black vinyl variety.

The first gay bar I remember going to was in Austin. It was a lesbian night at a place called Boyz Cellar. All the bartenders were topless and covered in bodypaint. It was surreal to be in a room filled with women and not a single one paying attention to me. Knowing in advance that everyone in the bar was outside of my sexual purview took a lot of tension out of the air. I felt like I could stroll around leisurely and talk to anybody about anything. There was no worry about having intentions misconstrued or being shot down by a cranky tyrant.

After a couple of hours one of the friends I was with reached a level of dramatic intoxication and decided she needed to vomit in the corner. The bar manager saw her and asked that she leave. She was still lucid enough to feel insulted by this and she went nose-to-nose with the pasty man for a few minutes trying to pick a fight before finally relenting.

I don’t like the idea of having to pick someone up, no matter what the context. There has been a lot said for the thrill of the chase and wanting the unattainable, but I don’t see the value in either. I don’t believe in unattainability. We’re all born out of the same primordial question mark. We all want to believe in someone. We are all attainable.

Chasing after someone is equally uninteresting. Why should I have to pursue someone who resists the idea of my companionship? If they don’t want to spend time with me, what does it benefit me to convince them otherwise? I want to fight for the people who’ll fight for me, and not chase after a trophy to validate my sense of achievement.

Those two ideas hang heavy in straight bars, like wooly fogs across the neon light. It might be easier to pick someone up in a gay bar. But it isn’t any easier to fall in love.

Previous Posts:

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?

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: My date with AMBOABE and AIRHEAD GENIUS at the local GAY BAR...

zeitgeisty — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 19:54:00 GMT

So I had a ‘date’ last night with Amboabe and AHG…

We had been trying to set something up for a couple of weeks, but AHG living out in Brooklyn, and being willfully obstructive kept throwing a wrench in the works. After a bunch of back and forth, it was decided that it would just be Amboabe and myself meeting up at my local diner around 6. To my surprise, just as I was out the door AHG sends e-mails all over the place at the last minute informing us that she’d be in town later around 8.

That gave me and Amboabe a couple of hours to shoot the shit before she arrived.

I got to the diner a little bit before Amb, and sat down with a coffee. As soon as he walked in I recognized him from his photos. He definitely looks like his shots, which I was glad about. You see, if he had used doctored photos in his profile, it would have been a tad awkward. So to all you ladies, he’s got that whole chiseled jaw, muppet hair, lean thing going on. He also had an easy air about him that assured me this wouldn’t be a ‘forced’ conversation. We chewed the fat a bit about his current situation in NY, living arrangements, writing, relationships…in fact it was a bit humorous in the sense that it kind of sounded exactly like the kind of conversation 2 dating bloggers would have.

He ordered a chicken salad sandwich and fries, while I went with the grilled cheese tomato and bacon on rye. We continued jawing, while he would periodically receive updates from AHG on her schedule. She dictated that we meet her downtown as it was near her train, so we headed down there to have a drink before she showed up.

The night was cold and drizzly, and Amboabe was dressed inappropriately. I felt badly for him, watching him shiver and enter into the first stages of hypothermia, but alas I wasn’t about to give up my coat for him. After walking a few blocks, we stopped in front of a bar called ‘URGE’ and we decided it seemed as good a place as any other, so we went in.

It turns out that this place was in fact a gay bar, complete with gay porn flashing and flickering through the tables. That was clever I thought. At first I was hesitant about staying, but Amboabe assured me that this was actually the ideal place to meet AHG, and I agreed.

We had a couple of beers, as the music throbbed like a great giant oiled up man snake in tight trousers. Eventually AHG arrived on the scene. She looked pretty much exactly like that iconic date machine photo that’s plastered all over Nerve – which I feel she really should receive royalties on. She was definitely hot stuff, and very English. Short-ish blonde hair, and buttoned up in a bright red coat. However, she interestingly was not nearly as obnoxious and brash as her online persona. In fact I would even describe her as somewhat – if not all the way – demure.

It’s funny, for that matter, Amboabe wasn’t anything like I’d pictured him either. I have to say I was impressed with both of them. I think I was taken aback at how enjoyable their company was, as I generally hate most people. They were both funny, and personable. I’m glad I went out with them.

For the rest of the night we would discuss dating and relationships as if we were at some kind of dating and relationship blogging retreat. It was a fun night. If this had been an actual date, I think I definitely would have arranged for a second one.

Sex Machine: Too OLD to LOVE..plus throb..

zeitgeisty — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 15:49:00 GMT

I remember as a child hearing cutesy little catchphrases about aging like…

‘Life begins at 40’

Or…

‘You’re not getting older…you’re getting old!’

Back then, 40 was this ominous black cloud waiting for you down the line. Still, as a young un’ it’s so far ahead in the future, you hardly think about it. You just embroil yourself in the usual existential angst-y melodramas one gets involved in at that age. Getting older is simply not on the radar…until…

30.

30 is the first shot across the bow if you will. It’s a wake up call, a measuring stick, a time to take a good look at yourself and try and figure out if your trajectory is askew. To me 30 represented the end of my musical career. I knew that in the music biz - especially this era – youth is king. I think specifically for this reason, 30 was a big blow. Of course it didn’t help that I turned 30 in the Bush era either. A great way to start off my thirties, 911, Iraq, not to mention a string of disastrous relationships, and a job which at the time gave new definition to the term – dead end.

The worst part of it all though, has been the insidious numbing I’ve experienced these past few years when it comes to relationships. Somewhere along the line, I just reached maximum capacity. I’m totally incapable of compromise, or even true unmitigated enthusiasm. Call it ennui, call it the doldrums, call it what you will, I know the real reason.

I’m getting old.

As 40 looms ahead, no longer a rumor talked about in confidence, but an actual full blown roiling tempest right in my sights, I realize I may have lost my window of opportunity as far as relationships are concerned. I really think that in order to fully appreciate the ‘relationship’ for what it is and what it could be, you have to start early. Get a marriage under your belt at 23, if it doesn’t work out, at least it puts you in the mindset. All the endless dating, sturm and drang, pointless bickering, and yes…soulless internet encounters, well, it just takes its toll.

Eventually, you just get too old…to love.

Now, the flipside to this is that you benefit, I feel, from a greater understanding of the human condition, and it probably makes you a better lover, and human being for that matter. All that experience allows you to see life for what it truly is, not some ‘schoolkid fantasy’ but something more honest – and frightening. Let’s face it, it’s no picnic.

Sometimes I see older people who still manage to cling to some kind of youthful idealism when it comes to life and love, but I think they’re either well aware of reality, or just fooling themselves. Still, who knows…I guess I’ve always been old at heart. All I know is in the end, every one gets there – old that is. You can’t fight city hall.

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Date Machine: '50 ways to leave your lover'...you decide...'FREEDOM' or 'LOVE'??....plus throb

zeitgeisty — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 18:52:00 GMT

I was listening to the song ’50 ways to leave your lover’ by Paul Simon the other night on Pandora, and was taken aback by its genius.

Paul Simon just has such a unique insight into the human condition, - particularly when it comes to inter - personal relations. Still that being said, if you really wanna get nit-picky, he only gives us 5 ways…

“You just slip out the back, Jack
Make a new plan, Stan
You don't need to be coy, Roy
Just get yourself free
Hop on the bus, Gus
You don't need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, Lee
And get yourself free”

This poses the question… what are the other 45 ways?

I guess the main point of the song is that it really doesn’t matter HOW you do it, just that you do it….to get yourself free. It’s funny to just sort of free associate on these things. You start off with a song by Paul Simon explaining the simplicity of extricating yourself from a failing relationship…’get yourself free’and then BANG immediately my mind – as an old songwriter – leaps to the lyric...’freedom’s just another word for, nothing left to lose’ from the song ‘Me and Bobby McGee’. It makes me think of all the mythology humans have created over these two themes…

LOVE and FREEDOM...

Thing is, they’re both totally illusory. It’s just fairytales we’ve made up in our art, to give us something to strive for, something to LIVE for.

Think of the song ‘Desperado’ for instance, where both these themes are explored. The Eagles are telling us that ‘Love’ should trump ‘Freedom’…

‘…and freedom oh freedom that’s just some people talkin’, your prison is walking through this world all alone..’

and

‘You better let somebody LOVE you…before it’s too late’.

I wonder… what percentage of human kind feels either ‘FREE’ or ‘in LOVE’? I’d really like to know… Oh, I’m sure there are a fair percentage of us that have convinced themselves of any number of things. That however does not make it real. The longer I live, the more it becomes incredibly clear to me that most humans live life with eyes closed, in a state of denial.

LOVE and FREEDOM. – ‘Get Yourself FREE’…or ‘Let somebody LOVE you’…

Are they mutually exclusive? I think to an extent they are – despite what some of you naïve lot might say. They are both mighty mythic ghosts vying for territory within our souls.

Which myth do YOU buy into?

Paul Simon's EX.. Carrie Fisher

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Date Machine: an old 'CRUSH', reaches out!!...TRANSCRIPT included...plus throb..

zeitgeisty — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 17:36:00 GMT

Yesterday I received a facebook friend request from some woman I didn’t recognize at all.

For a minute, I thought she might possibly have been some chick I knew around 8 years ago that I met through the internet. They both had similarly ‘crispy’ hair. Still, upon further examination I realized it couldn’t be her. Lately, I’ve been reticent to accept any more friends through Facebook, as I think I’m going to delete my account soon. I just feel there’s something a tad silly about someone my age having one of these things. It just feels superfluous. Anyway, I responded to her request by asking who she was, and she replied that she was someone I had had a crush on in college. I don’t know… there was something so irritating about her that I reverted to my college era asshole persona and well.. you can see the results.. The following is the transcript of the exchange.

ZEITGEISTY:

Do I know you?

CRUSH:

Yes! We went to college together...my friend laura dated your brother. we are going wayyy back here.

Z:

Right.. so how do I know you?

C:

Well, we hung out ever day for a year, you had a crush on me. But you don't have to remember me...you seem so reluctant!

Z:

Sorry, my memory isn't that bad... I remember who I hung out with back then, and there's just no way we hung out 'every day for a year'... I also remember all my crushes, and I can't even place your name or face at all...

I know my brother went out with some chick named Laura from ramapo or something, but I never hung out with her...

C:

Whatever. Yes, we sat everyday at lunch that year. You do have a bad memory. You actually begged me to break up with the guy, paul, I was seeing.

I was only interested in saying hi and seeing how you were. But really, i'm wasting too much effort on nothing.

Z:

jeez... delusional.

C:

Ask your brother...his memory may be better than yours :)

Z:

You weren't one of those chicks that lived in Nyack that was friends with Craig were you?

Seriously, I wasn't friends with Laura I thought she was an idiot and never hung out with her... I know I hung out in the cafeteria a lot, but there were always a lot of people around...

Don't mean to be a jerk, but I didn't know you... I don't know who 'paul' is..etc.. To tell you the truth that whole time at college was excuciatingly lame, so maybe I just blocked a lot of it out... even still, I do remember my friends and my crushes.

C:

Well, amazingly, I don't have the odd habit of remembering the name of someone I never knew, and making up a dilusional set of circumstances to go along with the name.

We were friends. I did not know the person you are refering to, and I lived in New City.

I apologise for sending a friendly hello. I hope your life is great and wish you well.

Z:

Sorry, my brother doesn't recall you either... Obviously YOU knew me, hence the reason you searched my name after practically 20 years...but I was pretty well known in Rockland back then, so..

Either way, I thank you deeply, deeply, deeply for your well wishes, and I hope your life is filled with purpose, whimsy and surprise...

C:

I personally hated college too, which is why you, your brother and a few people stuck on my mind...you made my year there tolerable. It was fun. And I did not randomly just think of you. With my own son applying for college soon he was asking me about my college days, therefore that was the reason I was reminiscing. Again, I apologize for disrupting your day.

One more thing. I can assure you i was not a twin groupie who knew OF you. We talked and laughed every day. If you have a problem with your selective memory you should not take it out on ordinary folk just dropping in to say hi.

Z:

I wasn't taking it out on you, I just didn't recall you... Since receiving your note, I've tried to strain my memory of those days... If we're talking Laura, then it mustve been like 1990... The people I knew back then were D. Kaufman, abd D. Grashow... also some chick named Cristina who always wore a wig.. had a friend J. Kranzberg.. and some really boring blonde guy that was always prattling on endlessly about nothing... That's who I remember from the table...

Anyway I'm glad I helped make your year there more bearable, wish someone couldve done the same for me!

C:

Yes, Cristina was always shooting up in the bathroom. And no worries, I have no problem being forgetable, lol! You just might have given me a complex about saying hi to other long ago friends...hopefully I have not imagined them all! ...Just kidding. have a great day.

Z:

ok.. cheers!

A few hours passed, and I started to feel bad. Perhaps I was too harsh, after all maybe she was just trying to reach out to someone she considered an old friend. Who cares if I couldn’t remember her, I could’ve been a bit more civil…Then I remembered those days, and I thought…fuck it.

Ahh that collosal forehead.. that vacant look... that raccoon perched atop her peanut shaped noggin.. Rihanna

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Date Confessions: Still more SNARKY and ASSININE responses to Nerve Dating Confessions... plus throbbage

zeitgeisty — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 16:13:00 GMT

Back by popular demand.... I take your confessions, and turn them into comedy gold.

"I think I have a psychological addiction to feeling special. If I don't have it I will do anything to get it. Even if it means hurting someone I love."

I think the proper clinical terminology for this is ‘self centered cunt’.

"What is it about Spring that makes past crushes/exes/hook-ups come out of the woodwork?"

Simple, Spring is always the time for getting back in touch with your Plan B contingency fuck. You see, Spring is when most people get dumped by their Plan A.

"i waited for 20 years for him to find me again. but he did and it was worth the wait."

…and the icing on the cake is his monthly social security check!!

"I don't remember every bad choice I made being bad while I was making them."

Except maybe that one time I had unprotected sex with Mr. raging herpes guy.

"Yes, she's my cousin. But my mom would give me hell if I cut things off with her. You understand, don't you?"

Random text message intercepted from the Palin family….

"I just don't see you as the Honey, I'm home type."

You’re more like the….’bitch, I’m back, crack out the wine cooler’ variety.

"I am shy. From a pseudo-evolutionary standpoint, you could make the argument that my model should be recalled or discontinued."

Taken from Charles Darwin’s childhood diary…

"My boyfriend and I were standing in line for ice cream when he leaned over and whispered in my ear; "I forgot to wash my face. It tastes like you." Then he kissed the top of my head, put his arm around me and smiled. It was embarassing/sweet/gross/sexy/adorable."

What he failed to notice was, he actually HAD washed his face, he simply mistakenly ordered the ‘skanky puss’ flavored ice cream.

"What on earth makes you think having a drink with me is the safe choice? Surely you know me better than that! But, yes, we can start with a drink and see what develops. Maybe you’ll find out what’s on that top shelf…"

It’s a huge dildo right… c’mon of course it is… big honking 10 foot plastic cock.. right? Right??

"I can't decide whether being sluttier would make me feel more liberated or depressed."

The better looking you are = more liberated… the fuglier you are = more depressing.

"I've had so many problems with men in the past year it has completely skewed my sexuality. I was once someone who loved and desired and was open about sex and proud of it and now sex is so intertwined with bad feelings and memories of failed sex and relationships i can't watch porn with couples having sex, i can't listen to people talk about having sex and i can't masturbate without waves of sadness flooding up to the surface even though my body craves sex like crazy. I can't handle it, how could i get this way? I look at old lingerie i used to buy in eager anticipation for someone else and i just want to cry. I am so embaressed by this and how will i get over it?"

Jesus.. quit your whining and go suck a dick.

an oldie but goody...Jlo

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Date Machine: PLAN B and the CONTINGENCY F**K ...plus throbbage.

zeitgeisty — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 18:09:00 GMT

It seems to me that women never have a Plan B.

Now I know lately I’ve been making a lot of blanket statements about the ‘fairer sex’, and it may indeed sound a bit obnoxious coming from a man, but I believe my astounding insight and intellect give my opinions a great deal of validity. Besides, it’s my fucking blog, so deal with it.

Anyway, back to my original thought – the Plan B.

Last week I was out with the GF late at night on a supermarket run, in order to procure her favorite ice cream – chocolate and peanut butter haagen-daaz – as she had a yen for something sweet in her maw. Personally, I find this particular flavor to be mundane, and actually kind of mealy in texture, so when we discovered that they were out of it I suggested that she pick something else. As far as I was concerned, there were a million choices there far tastier than that crappy peanut butter chocolate crap. She declined my offers, and instead decided to check out the bodega across the street to see if they had it. Of course they didn’t and she wound up getting no ice cream.

This got me to thinking about how women never seem to have a Plan B. They want what they want, and they don’t accept any substitution - they have no back up contingency plans whatsoever. This goes across the board, I’m not just talking ice cream here. This is why I think women get so frustrated in the search for relationships.

Men are the complete opposite. They always have a back up plan. For instance, if I had my heart set on peanut brittle, and I couldn’t find any, I’d always have something else on deck… perhaps creamed herring and stoned wheat crackers. It might not be my FIRST choice, but it’s a fine substitute. I mean, I certainly would not go without SOMETHING to satisfy my hunger. The same holds true when it comes to relationships…

Men are good at ‘cobbling’. What I mean is, they understand that it’s a very rare instance when they're able to find ONE person to satisfy all needs, so they ‘cobble’ together several women in order to satisfy different needs. They also are good at keeping women waiting in the wings, so if the main one doesn’t work out they at least have a contingency fuck lying around.

The ‘contingency fuck’ concept is obviously not well known to women. This seems obvious to me, as many times they ARE the contingency fuck and they don't even know it!

To explain... you know when you hear sometimes a woman complaining about how some guy is stringing her along, promising her this and that fucking her one night and then withdrawing, well THEY ARE THE CONTINGENCY FUCK.. they are plan B..or C.. or D.. depending on the guy.

Women are just not as conniving as men. They want what they want, and if they can’t get it, they’ll wait. When they find what they want, they will sink their teeth in like bulldogs in heat and never let go. Unfortunately, this is where they run into trouble and get accused of being needy and overbearing. Now, don’t get me wrong once in a while a woman will have a ‘booty call’ on the side, but this is no plan B.. and usually this ‘booty call’ is actually a guy they really would like to be in a relationship with - again she's the contingency fuck without even realizing it.

It’s all screwed up folks.

When you think about it, how anyone out there actually manages to maintain any kind of relationship with anyone is a mystery. Yet I hear it happens all the time. At least it does in the movies anyway.

ahhh that jaw.. oh those omelette tits... how sweet it is.Rumer Willis..

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Sex Machine: SPIT or SWALLOW?

zeitgeisty — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 18:29:00 GMT

Spit or Swallow?

This has gotta be the ultimate barometer for whether or not a gal’s up for some serious partying. The funny thing is, personally I never liked the ’full swallow’. You see, when I release, I want to feel it spray in the air, but when it’s swallowed down vaccum cleaner style, the sensation feels claustrophobic. To me the ultimate is to hose down my partner in the kisser, some on the face, some in the mouth, just a beautiful Jackson Pollock free for all.

In my experience, women tend to swallow. They also like to make a big production over it as well. I don’t know how many times I’ve given warning of my imminent explosion, expecting even wanting them to just jerk me off in the air to completion, but instead sucking me off like a big gulp. After they’ve finished they look at me with the big eyes like they’re expecting a gold star or something… Hey I warned you, and I didn’t even WANT IT so stop giving me those eyes!

Like I said I’d rather release out into space, or into someone’s face. THIS however, many women do not like. Hey I don’t blame em’, I can see how it could be perceived as a ‘porn finish’ or disrespectful. Still, you can’t blame me for trying.

'Why don't you finish on my back?'

Huh?? How is that any fun? Could there be any lamer finish than the back? I mean, I don't even know who could enjoy such a thing? The only lamer finish than the back would be to accidentally shoot yourself in the face with bad aim.

Anyway, as a way of passing the rest of this Friday afternoon, I put it to you ladies…

“Spit, Swallow or face finish?”

Date Machine: Women are CRUEL... plus throbbage

zeitgeisty — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 18:22:00 GMT

I’ve never really gone in for ‘dumping’ people on their ass.

Usually I’m too wracked with guilt to be really harsh when letting someone go. Conversely though, I’ve been dropped pretty savagely a number of times. I’ve always wondered if this was a male/female thing. Women just seem to be way more cruel than men in a lot of ways.

Now of course, men are accused of a lot of ‘crimes’ when it comes to relationships. You always hear how non committal, uncommunicative, selfish, inconsiderate and lazy we are. Still, are we ‘cruel’? Perhaps on occasion, but not with the unbridled zeal and joy women take in sticking a knife in.

When I think about all the times I’ve let an ex down easy just to spare hard feelings…Yet when I talk about what a great guy I am for being a ‘softie’, I usually get the rejoinder that ‘I’m a fake and a phony, and being HONEST is always the best policy’. Is this true do you think? I mean, would you rather be let down easy or have your balls cut off? Personally, I’ve always been pretty good about reading the writing on the wall. I’ve always been considerate enough to take my leave before I had to put my partner in the awkward position of dumping me. Still, I did manage to take a few blows on the chin…I'll always remember this beauty from some bitch I wasted 3 years of my life on.

‘You know when I think of the ultimate guy I want to wind up with in my fantasies?.. yeah.. you’re not him’

Side note: you should see the fucking ugly fat shlub she’s getting married to – some ‘fantasy’.

Women are cruel, there’s just no getting around that fact. Over the years I've grown wary and weary of them as a rule, and sometimes struggle to understand what the point is in getting involved with them on any other level besides sex. I mean, they love shows like ‘dancing with the stars’ and ‘american idol’, they don’t know much about cinema, or art, or music.. not really anyway. They listen to Britney Spears for godssakes and not in an un-ironic way, which would be annoying enough, but in a completely ‘Britney Spears is a LEGITIMATE ARTIST’ kind of way. How does one respect that?

Talk about passive aggressive… Women made that shit up. They’re scheming, and they’re cruel… women are cruel. Hey… ASK THEM YOURSELVES!!!... They’ll tell you.

Alex Guarnaschelli

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Date Machine: My thoughts on dating OLDER WOMEN...plus throbbage.

zeitgeisty — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 18:20:00 GMT

Last night I was watching ‘Gloria’ the Cassavetes film starring Gena Rowlands, about an aging ex-moll who protects a little kid from the mob.

As I was watching it, I was struck by how attractive I found Gena Rowlands – who at the the time as around 50. Still, as I tried to picture myself actually being with someone that age, I mentally balked. Flashes of my grandmother filled my head. All I could think of were wrinkles, potpourri, and denture cream. Laying down with her would be like laying down with a grandmother…not my grandmother per se, ‘cause she’s dead completely - just a grandmother.

To tell the truth it felt a bit unsettling – scary really.

Of course, Gena’s character was also really tough - being an ex-moll – so perhaps that added to the intimidation factor. The question is, could I date an older woman? I suppose it would definitely be an individual circumstance. I mean, if she looked like Nigella Lawson then the answer would be yes, if she looked like Madeline Albright then not so much. 10 years in either direction really doesn’t seem like too much of a big deal to me. Chances are if you look like a bucket of shit, you’re gonna continue to look like a bucket of shit, and you’ve always looked like a bucket of shit – 10 years either way doesn’t change that.

Looks aren’t the only factor however.

Getting older is pretty much an all around bummer proposition, yet there is one up-side to it and that’s experience. The more life you live, the more opportunity you’ve had to learn about the world, art, music, etc… Thus, you –should- be more interesting than someone younger – ‘should’ being the operative word. Unfortunately this is not always the case, as I’ve known plenty of boring old farts in my life. In fact in most situations, if you're a boring cypher with no insight or passion about anything of interest, then you're likely to remain that way 'til the day you die.

All this being said, I’ve yet to date an older woman and I’m not sure why. Seems like most of the women I’ve dated these past years – including my current GF - have been younger by at least 5 years. Maybe it’s because a lot of the women my age are really looking to get married and have kids, which I decidedly am not and have not been interested in. Another reason could be social circles. Older women my age and above tend to gravitate towards more professional circles.

Interestingly enough, even though our paths hardly cross in real life, it’s the older women that check my online profile out more than any other age group. I wonder what they see in me? Do they find me mature? Or do they think I'm just old enough that the desperation has started to set in?

I dunno...the other day the GF said her favorite 'type' was old, beaten down, broken and aging souls that have nowhere else to go, and nothing left to live for. So I guess it really all does come down to luck in the end.

Gena Rowlands

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Sex Machine: The psychology of the FEMALE ORGASM: "The PLEASURE PRINCIPLE"..plus throbbage.

zeitgeisty — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 14:44:00 GMT

The Female ORGASM.

It looms large in the male psyche. When you think of all the sturm and drang, fear, self loathing, feelings of inadequacy that can be associated with attempting to make a girl cum, it all seems a bit silly – especially considering that it’s something pretty much easily achieved with a little bit of rubbing.

Still, all this ‘worshipping at the altar of female sexuality’ continues. It’s never about the man – contrary to what the ‘perceived wisdom’ might be. I know women love to say that men are clueless, and only out to get laid, but this poses the question..

‘When exactly did it get to be the man’s job to provide the orgasm anyway?’

I mean think about it, why is it that men must ‘achieve’ their own orgasms, while women are ‘provided’ with theirs? I’ve always found this to be yet another instance of infantilizing the woman, and I’m sure it’s more prevalent here in America than anywhere else.

Of course looking at it logically, men probably have set up this situation themselves. By repressing women’s sexuality, we in turn must now go back in and find it for them. It’s the hero’s journey. This is all part of the sick puritanical hoe down – if you’ll pardon the pun.

I was reading an article in the New York Times the other day about a coed live-in commune dedicated to the female orgasm it was titled ‘The Pleasure Principle’. There was a quote that jumped out at me that stated…

“I don’t think women will really experience freedom until they own their sexuality.”

The thing that immediately popped in my brain was that it’s actually MEN that will never be free until they own their sexuality. Until women can be responsible for their own orgasm, true sexual liberation can never be achieved – or in the words of the immortal Richard Pryor…

‘Hey I GOT MINE… GET YOURS!!’

Personally I don’t know how many times I’ve had mind numbingly boring sex with women where it was all about THEIR orgasm. Complicated little rubiks cube permutations worked out to a science all for their pleasure. Sometimes performing excruciatingly painful prostrations as if I were some wine eunuch at the palace - to hell with my own pleasure – and for what? What did I get out of it? An ego boost?

Big fucking deal…

When you think about it, when it comes to sex, men’s pleasure doesn’t really play a whole lot into it. This first seems odd, as we are all so predisposed to think ‘it’s a man’s world’ across the board. The truth is it’s really a big scam – at least pertaining to the bedroom. As men we’re taught to appreciate sex as if we’re being handed some supreme gift from the gods, when the truth is there are two bodies being offered up, and all risks are shared.

When it comes down to it, for men it’s about ego and for women it’s about worship. The thing it should be about is animal – and I don’t mean to bring a sheep into the proceedings.

Sex should be wild, unfettered, animalistic and free – free being the operative word. Yes we should do our best to make each other feel good, but the ultimate responsibility for our own pleasure should rest squarely on our individual shoulders. We should not rely on someone else for ANYTHING and that includes the orgasm.

the dove girls..

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Date Machine: HAIR - does it make a difference? Plus throbbage

zeitgeisty — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 20:48:00 GMT

I used to have a friend in college with the blondest hair I'd ever seen. I mean, this guy's hair was white-blonde blonde. He was also pretty tall, which made it really easy to pick him out of a crowd. I must say, the chicks totally dug it - which annoyed me to no end. They were constantly coming up to him cooing inanely..

'Ooohhh can I touch it??'

'Ohhh I love your hair it's like so coooool!'

Back in the early 1990s, most everyone was abusing their hair in the silliest of ways. Either they were applying strange concoctions of beeswax and smegma in order to acquire the ultimate dread locks, or they were drenching their noggins in manic panic hair dye so they could look like Billie Joe Armstrong. Personally, I never really did much but grow it long. Actually, I did pour a whole bottle of 'sun-in' on my head when I was 18, but it just turned my hair orange. It took me a full year and a half to totally grow that shit out.

We had a few stock styles when it came to hair back in those grunge-y days. The women were quite fond of the bob cut, kinda like a punkier version of Dorothy Hammil. They also did a lot of purple or blue streaking, and the occasional bettie page bang. Many guys had that 'long in the front/short in the back' Johnny Depp circa 21 Jumpstreet deal going on. Of course, Johnny Depp was really the only one who could ever pull that thing off properly. Most everyone else looked like total douchewrenches.

Still, I guess the most prominent style back then was long and unwashed.

Seemed like the only way to get a chick to look twice at you back then was to have long hair. If you had that dumb wavy muppet hair like Eddie Vedder, then you were REALLY something special - you'd get more tang than an astronaut.

These kids today have gotten far more complicated with their tresses. Some of these 'dos' I see walking around are so elaborate, it makes me wonder how long they take to style in the morning. The funny thing is, it's the guys that have the most worked on coifs - the women, have far plainer things going on. I'm sorry, I'm no macho meat head, but even I feel it's a bit fem when the guys are spending far more time working on their 'looks' in the bathroom mirror. I wonder, do the young gals out there really dig this stuff? These preening tools strutting around like roosters that stuck a foot in the socket - is it a turn on?

Moreover, in general, how important is hair when it comes to choosing a partner?

Does preference of color, length, texture come into play in any significant way? Moreover, what if you met someone - male or female - that was gorgeous, funny and charming yet was either bald, or had thinning hair. Would it be a deal breaker?

From what I hear baldness is one of those major disappointments women run into doing the online dating. Baldness and shortness - in any combination.

Ahhh.. these superficial standards we set up for ourselves, in the end, does any of it really matter?

Kim from Matt and Kim..

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Sex Machine: Zeitgeisty SEX TIPS for DUMMIES!!... plus the throb

zeitgeisty — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 17:48:00 GMT

When you blog about sex and relationships, people tend to look to you as some sort of 'guru'. I'm constantly besieged with all manner of questions related to fucking, sucking, and dating. Always mindful of my position of influence, I try to dole out my advice in as sage and comforting a manner as possible – although sometimes I have to get a bit tough with some of the masochists. The interesting thing I’ve discovered is, most everyone has some at least some modicum of insecurity when it comes to their own sexual prowess. My mailbox is literally flooded each day with reader requests for insider info on how to become better lovers. In order to address all of you incompetent fumblers out there, I’ve compiled a list of sex and relationship tips that should serve you in good staid for years to come. So without further adieu…

1) Women, do not ever refer to a man’s penis as ‘cute’, ‘widdle’, ‘adorable’, or ‘mignon’.

2) Men, do not ever refer to a woman’s vagina as a ‘tuna boat’, ‘stink hole’, ‘garbage dump’, or ‘sulfur city’.

3) ‘Spelling out the alphabet’ with your tongue as a fun way of giving a woman head is infantile and doesn’t work – especially if you’re attempting to sing the ‘alphabet song’ whilst doing it.

4) Men, never refer back to your ex-girlfriend with the huge tits and perfect ass as ‘great in bed’ but completely crazy. You see ALL women are completely crazy, so it’s not much of an insult. The only thing your present girlfriend will hear is, ‘Huge tits’ and ‘Great in bed’.

5) Women never refer back to your asshole ex-boyfriend who’s dick was ‘way too big’. You see ALL guys are assholes, so it’s not much of an insult. The only thing your present boyfriend will hear is, ‘Huge dick’.

6) Men, it’s called a clitoris not a Rubik’s cube - it’s not that difficult to figure out. Look it up in the goddamned dictionary under ‘C’ for crying eye. It is the female equivalent to the penis, meaning it’s what gets them off. Attend to it carefully, it’s a clitoris not a gummi bear.

7) Women, it’s called a penis not a flexi straw. Attend to it carefully, no 90 degree angles, or ‘stretch armstrong’ antics. It’s not a good thing when your man is left with blood blisters up and down his Johnson.

8) Men, remember to cut your fingernails before sticking your fingers in her ass.

9) Women, remember to cut your fingernails before sticking your fingers in his ass.

10) Men, when your lady asks you to pick up a ‘toy’ for later on, she doesn’t mean that vintage 6 million dollar man doll you’ve been 'watching’ for 3 days on Ebay.

11) Women, when your fella’ asks you to pick up a ‘toy’ for later on, he doesn’t mean a ‘butt plug’ for him….well usually he doesn’t anyway.

12) Men, be careful, ‘manscaping’ does not require hedge clippers. Moreover, never trim your pubes into funny animal shapes.

13) Women, either go with the bald look, or the full on fur burger, ‘Hitler moustaches’ are way too ‘2002’.

14) Men, forget about her sister, ‘cause it’s never gonna happen.

15) Women, forget about his best friend, he’s dating someone way hotter than you.

I hope you all find these tips useful. It’s been a pleasure to share with you my expertise and if I have saved only one person from horrible sex, I believe I've done my job!

Jane Wyman

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Date Machine: PATTERNS in RELATIONSHIPS - slight edit... are they a MYTH??...plus throb

zeitgeisty — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 18:32:00 GMT

I’ve always been a bit dubious when people start prattling on about the ‘patterns’ they fall into concerning their relationships.

Women especially tend to complain a lot about the throngs of ‘unavailable men’ and the pitfalls of falling for the same type of guy, over and over again. In fact just today I was reading the article ‘How happy is…How to Deal With Life’s Obstacles’ by Sophie Keller, where she specifically picks over this ole’ chestnut once again:

“…you finish a long relationship with an emotionally unavailable partner, someone who can't give you what you need, but you don't take time to look at your pattern of what drives you to attract this sort of person in to your life, in the first place. You'll then find that the next person you meet will have very similar qualities to your last partner, as that is what you are energetically attracting, and you'll have to go through the same thing again, with a slight variation on logistics and how that unavailability is manifested. The first partner might have just come out of a relationship and not be in to marrying, the second one might withhold sex from you and the third one might be married. All off them, in one way or another, are emotionally unavailable. Of course, you can try to blame the opposite sex for this or, alternatively, look inside yourself for answers.”

See I totally disagree. I think women have it right when they blame it all on the opposite sex.

Listen, I’m not saying ALL men are emotionally unavailable, just a significant portion of them. As a proud throbbing member of the male gender, I’ll take that hit for all of us. However, you women have also got to cop to the fact that there are a significant portion of YOU that are emotionally needy to an almost pathological extent. In addition, I personally feel you tend to make decisions based on faulty concepts such as ‘stability’ or ‘soulmate’. These are illusions and in no way should be a basis for anything.

Still, as far as ‘patterns’ go, I don’t believe in em’. Everyone I’ve ever dated has been a unique experience, completely individual from the previous relationship. I mean, there’ve been a couple of similarities here and there, but absolutely no discernible pattern whatsoever.

Now...'types' are a different story.

'Types' and 'Patterns' often get jumbled up together as one thing in people's minds, when in point of fact they are not. Personally, I love curvy women with nice jugs and a penchant for growing out their under-arm hair. Is there anything significant about this as to how it pertains to my psychological make-up? Perhaps, but not so you'd notice. Either way, it's not really going to have any sort of real impact on the way I handle myself in relationships.

The myth of the 'pattern' is well overstated I feel. I believe life is a lot more arbitrary than that. In the end, we're all just logs floating down the river of life. It's simply the random-ness of all things that attaches to us the twigs and branches.

Patterns shmatterns.

Erin Burnett... financial analyst...

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Date Machine: LOVE in the time of RECESSION - slight edit...plus the throb..

zeitgeisty — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 19:41:00 GMT

I tell you, I'm afraid to watch the news anymore. Each new day seems to bring more and more distressing news related to the spiraling economy and it scares me shit-less. The thing is, as we grow increasingly frightened about the state of our tenuous financial stability, I’m wondering what the subsequent fallout will be as far as our relationships are concerned.

People out there are in a panic and out of this abject fear they are clinging to each other like petrified rhesus monkeys. This recession is bonding us to one another in deep ways, turning us all in to frontierspeople, dependant on each other to make it through the harsh winter. Whereas before this collapse, moving in together was solely predicated on love and compatibility, nowadays it very well could simply be out of financial necessity. The thing is though, out of this necessity may come an interesting by-product.

As a result of our recent financial inter-connectedness, we are now forced to examine our relationships in closer detail and really figure out what we mean to each other - nothing brings people closer together than a state of emergency.

Panic is like a seasoning, it enhances one’s perceptions. Let’s say a couple has been toddling along together for a couple of years, but only now really require each other’s support. Perhaps one has lost a job, or the other’s hours have been cut - well then you’re seriously going to start understanding what you mean to one another. When faced with emergency, it’s impossible not to confront the reality of how you feel for each other. In other words…

…the time for ‘toddling’ is now over.

Do you stay together or bail out? Do you cut the dead weight loose? Do you realize how much you’ve meant to each other all along? Do you realize, you don’t love this person, know this person – WANT this person?

This current situation not only affects established relationships - it’s not merely about the ‘rent’ - it also becomes a major factor when meeting new people. With less money available for entertainment purposes, we will now have to start relying upon our actual personalities, and become more creative in coming up with date ideas that don’t cost a bundle.

Coffee and Danish anyone?

I guess, in a way one could see this as an opportunity. We have a unique chance here to truly take a look at ourselves and the ones we love. Only trouble is, we're not always going to like what we find…

leelee sobieski

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Date Machine: the MIA phenomenon - 'I thought we had a GREAT TIME!!!'...plus the Daily throb

zeitgeisty — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 16:19:00 GMT

One of the main complaints I hear from women when it comes to internet dating is the common experience of never hearing from someone again after enjoying what they felt was a damned fine date, something I refer to as the - ‘MIA phenomenon’. This occurrence never fails to disturb and perplex the fairer sex. For weeks after an MIA, I’ve heard some of my female friends still anguish over the usual questions; ‘Why didn’t he call back???’ ‘What went wrong??’ ‘I DON’T GET IT!!’..

Personally, whenever an MIA ever happened to me I never really sweated it.

I believe the average human runs pretty much down the middle as far as rejection is concerned. Sometimes you bite the bar, and sometimes the bar bites you. So you see, it really all evens out in the end. Still, this doesn’t answer the question ‘WHY!!!’. I think women need to know ‘WHY!!!’ more than men, that’s just my personal perception. One thing’s for certain, I’m not going to use that cutesy standby ‘He’s just not that into you’ as any kind of rationale. In the first place, due to the Sex and the City association, it’s automatically disqualified, and in the second place it’s way too glib and I’m just not a glib guy.

To start things off, let me relay a couple of MIAs I've personally experienced.

I met a gal for coffee at Le Pain Quotidien uptown in my neighborhood after having exchanged a few e-mails back and forth on Nerve.She seemed attractive and bore a slight resemblance to Chan Marshall in her photo - which was a good thing. Of course, you can never really tell from a photo exactly what you’re gonna get. Anyway, she shows up and she’s very tall. I mean, I knew she was tall from her profile, but when presented with the reality in 3-d I was a bit taken aback. I think it was more the fact that she was big and tall that threw me. Not that she was fat, which she wasn’t at all, but she was just big. Hands, feet, mandible, ears.. I’m 6 foot myself, but on my skinny frame, I don’t take up a lot of space. She also had a severely short cropped haircut dyed bleach blonde, which gave her a slightly ‘Lerch’ like appearance.

Still aside from all that, she was alright. I wasn’t attracted per se, but I wasn’t running in the opposite direction. Anyway, we procured ourselves some beverage and got on with the business at hand. We wound up having a pretty good conversation which spanned a whole host of topics ranging from politics to art. She was a big fan of the movie Five Easy Pieces, which instantly endeared her to me. Over the course of the evening, she started to look less like Lerch, and more graceful, statuesque, Amazonian.. elegant! I guess these are just games your mind plays with itself. Either way, I was actually having a pretty good time and thought for sure a second date was imminent.

Long story short, we said our goodbyes and I never heard from her again. I had even sent her an e-mail a few days after the date just to say how nice it was meeting her, and maybe we could go see the Jasper Johns exhibit at the Met if she was up for it.

No response.

I didn’t really mind, I mean, like I said I wasn’t really attracted. I did find it ironic that a person I wasn’t attracted to wound up rejecting me. Still, there was a certain symmetry and justice to it all that I found colossal. She didn’t deem a response to my e-mail necessary, and I was ok with that. I may have felt a miniscule twinge of rejection, but I certainly didn’t deliberate over it.

Personally, I feel one of the unwritten rules to the online personals, is that you enter into it knowing full well that 95% of the time you will never see your date again. That’s just fact. Who really cares what the reason is? It just is.

Now on the other side of the pendulum, I distinctly remember this time right before I met my girlfriend that I went out with a very sweet girl, who was really quite attractive with long chestnut hair and a great smile that I never contacted again. Let me just state for the record that it wasn’t merely because ‘I wasn’t that into her’, it’s just that I didn't see any legitimate point for continuing our acquaintance any further. There just was no connection on my side whatsoever. She had attractive features, but none of them added up to trip the switch hormonal. Her personality was, well lacking.. at least in ways that I find intriguing. She tended to stay to middle of the road topics of conversation, and had an irritating laugh that sounded a bit like Tom Hulce in Amadeus. There was also something slightly off about her chin that I just couldn’t put my finger on.

I will say this though, aside from an innocuous e-mail from her about the Yankees, I never heard back from her either, and if she actually had written me to ask, ‘WHY!!’ I would have given her an answer…

I guess the main thrust of it all, is people shouldn’t really go into a date with too many expectations. Even if things APPEAR to be going smoothly, you really can never know what’s going on in the noggin of the person staring back at you over a delicious plate of fried calamari. My advice?

Just enjoy the fried calamari.

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Sex Machine: Does getting NAILED with a STRAP-ON by your girlfriend make you GAY?...plus the daily throb

zeitgeisty — Thu, 05 Mar 2009 16:14:00 GMT

I checked Nerve’s home page when I got into the office this morning and I noticed a new short story had been posted called ‘The Conditional Surrender’ .

I skimmed through it, and discovered it was all about some middle aged guy getting nailed in the ass with a dildo by his girlfriend.

Well ok, it wasn’t ALL about that, but pretty much yeah…

Now, as I’ve divulged here in a previous post, I’ve had my ass invaded once by an ex with a clumsy long nailed finger and it turned out to be quite a painful proposition. Ever since then my ass has been off limits. In fact I carry around with me a laminated Doctors note excusing me from any rectal manipulation. It truly was an all around unpleasant experience, and one I have no wish of repeating – and this was just a finger we're talking about! I couldn’t even imagine getting rammed up the cornhole the way this dude describes.

I tell you, I’m just not into those dominatrix types that get off on inflicting pain on their partners. I always feel it’s as if they’re exorcising some disturbing personal demons within and I’m their very own voodoo doll. Of course I’ll hear cries of 'double standard', as men love to fuck ass but rarely lay their own mudflaps down on the table in reciprocation. My response to said condemnation would be…

…and your point is?

As far as double standards go, that’s one I can live with sans guilt. Moreover, never have I ever inflicted or wanted to inflict on any of my ex-girlfriends some sort of strange and violent anal pounding with a hard plastic dildo. That just seems more like a power trip than anything else. I mean, what does a woman get out of fucking her boyfriend with a strap on besides some sadistic pleasure?

Reading through the story, I wondered what type of ‘heterosexual male’ – as the writer defines himself in the story – would allow their butt to be plundered in such a manner? I mean, I have a relatively open mind, but to me this crosses the line into ‘gay-ish’ territory. Perhaps it’s not all the way gay, but allowing your girlfriend to make her your bitch, while she shoves a giant fake cock up your ass, well….that’s pretty gay.

Still I don’t know, perhaps I’m just old fashioned.

Makes you wonder what goes on behind closed doors though. Who know, maybe Prorobert likes to dress up in a bunny costume and have carrots crammed up his brown eye. Maybe Toluca likes to dress up as a mailman, and shoot dogs. Yes, I can definitely picture it all. As for me, I’ve never been a fetish guy, and have always been pretty much the ‘decider’ in the bedroom. I’m the chairman-of-the-board if you will. Keep your oils, beads and other implements of destruction away from my bumcakes.

Homey don’t play that shit.

Adriana Lima

Going through old e-mail - revisiting past babes

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Personals confessions: Going through old E-MAIL: RE-VISITING the past BABES I've once known....plus the daily throb...

zeitgeisty — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 17:54:00 GMT

The other day I went through my word files and old e-mails in order to come up with some examples of Online correspondence for my last post here, and although I couldn’t really find too many examples of ‘initial’ greetings, I did find a lot of old conversations with women I’ve had over the past few years. Reading through it, I felt both vaguely fascinated and astoundingly bored. The oddest part to read through was definitely MY end of the various exchanges. My forced jocularity, irritating jaunty verbosity, jeez it grated me as I read it.

As I went through more and more of them, I became weary. All these little flings I'd had seemed so empty. It felt more like some kind of exercise in ego than anything else – my ego. I would never hear from the vast majority of these women ever again, yet saved for posterity are all the electric details of our plans, activities, and banter.

The strangest part of going through old e-mails of past relationships is coming across someone you used to date that you’ve completely forgotten about. The feeling of disconnection is so extreme, it’s almost as if it all happened to someone else. Still, that's your name there, it IS you… but IS it really? You see, in a lot of these 'relationships', I was putting on an act. In many cases, a lot of these women never got to see the real me at all. So in a sense, these e-mail exchanges are very much like observing an alien interaction.

They’re almost VOYEURISTIC in fact…

The sheer number of coffee dates I’ve been on these past few years is pretty ridiculous. It’s a wonder I haven’t expired from all the caffeine I’ve ingested, not to mention all the cheese Danish impacted in my colon like so much spackle. All those women, most of whom I wouldn’t even recognize if I passed them on the street. I wonder what’s become of all of them.

Actually, I don’t.

In fact, I’ve pretty much blotted out everything from my tired mind having to with anything but sheer survival. I’m on auto-pilot. I’m not that coffee datin’, irritatingly jaunty fellow I once was. I actually don’t really know what I am anymore. I used to be a completely solopsistic prick - not anymore. That’s the one good thing about being a shallow egocentric, at least it’s a tangible identity.

Jeez… but all those women.

Most of them whom I never shared anything more than a cheese Danish and coffee mind you, but god… some of them… What the HELL was I thinking? I mean, some of these women had absolutely not one single quality I look for, and I’m talking across the board – looks, intelligence, sense of humor. I honestly don’t know what I was trying to accomplish there. Of course, it did provide me with valuable experience as to the many different types of ladies out there.

Still... was it worth it? All those wasted hours expending energy on a bunch of crap that in the end had no relevance to my life other than to ground me down just a bit more...

Now, don’t get me wrong, there were a few in there that I actually got to know pretty well, and I still maintain some sort of contact with a couple of them, but overall they’re all pretty much ghosts haunting my inbox. Each time I click ‘older’ in my G-mail, more cobwebs form, dust chokes me, I hear strange creaking… it’s scary stuff!!

When I eventually click back on ‘newest’ I feel safe once again….

Janet Margolin

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Profile confessions: If you're HOT... then it's ok??

zeitgeisty — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 20:24:00 GMT

I have a question for all you women out there doing the online dating thing...

I've always wondered this. If a prospective suitor sent you the following e-mail, what would your reaction be?

'Hey there hot stuff, I love your photos. It looks like you've been blessed with a treasure trove of luscious sweater meat. You're like an angel from above with those funbags. Hmmm... Seems like you've got a colossal rump as well. Congratulations on your scrumptious melons and firm shitter. Wanna meet up sometime?'

Ok... Now you have an initial reaction... What if the guy was incredibly hot, your EXACT type. Does your reaction change? Do you respond? and if so, what do you respond?

Conversely, what if someone who looked like something you'd find buried at the back of a warthogs cage sent you the most beautiful missive you'd ever read... something SHAKESPEARE level. Would it make a difference that he looked like a bucket of shit?

Date Night: HAND-JOB in Hungary - my only true love!..plus the daily throb.

zeitgeisty — Tue, 24 Feb 2009 20:52:00 GMT

I met J in an outdoor café in Budapest, she was clothed in crinoline of smoky burgundy and appeared softer than the rain. She also beared a slight resemblance to Art Garfunkle, but that's neither here nor there. At that time, I was in Hungary on a student’s visa - apparently somebody had left it on the chair in the café, and although I found it quite uncomfortable, I was too lazy to remove it from underneath my buttocks.

In the midst of the bustling lunchtime congregation she stood out like a freshly minted dime – petite, shiny, and with little ridges on her rim. I was instantly struck by her gestalt, as she had sailed at my head a tiny paper airplane with only the word ‘gestalt’ written on its side in a child-like scrawl.

It wasn’t her astounding beauty that initially drew me to her, as in all honesty she looked like something you’d find in a petry dish. No, what got me was the odd fact that she was carrying in her left hand an extraordinarily large socket wrench. Later I found out that she was a studying abroad, working on her doctorate in advanced plumbing.

I must tell you, she was quite a sight, sitting there cross legged with a decidedly dainty air talking to herself in low tones, and gesticulating wildly with the wrench. I was all at once intrigued, nauseated, threatened and slightly aroused. I listened in to the conversation she was having with herself, and overheard her use the word ‘dialectical’ – I was instantly smitten. I sidled up to her suavely and asked her if she’d care for another coffee or perhaps a piece of Danish.

‘Hungarians don’t eat Danish’, she retorted in an odd monotone.

‘Ahh… I had no idea. So you’re from here?’

‘No, I’m Armenian, but when in Rome…’

I could tell she would be a hard nut to crack, but one look at her wrench and I knew I had to have her. Still I had to be cautious, for one thing she was carrying a potential implement of destruction, for another my mother had always taught me never to inhale too deeply next to an Armenian.

‘Well perhaps you’d like some strudel then, I hear they make a fine strudel’

‘OH!’, her eyes lit up.. ’Yes please, I would love a prune strudel’

…and with that I was in!

It’s funny, up until then I had ordered many different types of pastry; choux; danish; profiterole; but after J it would be only prune strudel from then on. It was almost as if it were some kind of ‘psychic howl’ a broken promise made to myself, of which I alone was aware. It was a way of showing solidarity to myself, or rather ‘solo-darity’ as I was the only one who understood, or cared.

Nowadays, every time I eat a piece of prune strudel I chuckle knowingly to myself. One time a fellow patron at a local café was so irritated by my knowing chuckles that he beat me very badly, and put me in the hospital for two months. I still continue to knowingly chuckle though – I just do it much quieter.

J and I ate our strudel, flirting, and laughing - I with her, and her mostly with herself – well into the crisp Budapest-ian night. As the shadows became longer and longer, it was time for us to part, but not before she was able to give me a tender hand-job underneath the table. Well, technically it wasn’t a true hand-job, as she used her socket wrench – luckily as I have stated before it was a very large wrench!

My heart, and penis were never the same after that night. That wretched, ridge-y, mental case with a large socket wrench embodied everything I’d ever wanted in a woman. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be as later that week I would be deported for attempting to fuck a fire hydrant in broad daylight.

I will never forget J though….my only true love.

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file

Sex Machine: Striving for CONSISTENTLY DECENT SEX...plus the DAILY THROB!

zeitgeisty — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 20:07:00 GMT

Most men don’t need a specific position, or permutation in order to climax. Just sufficient invigoration and we’re off to the races. A lot of women however have a defined formula to get them where they wanna go, and once you’ve found this formula, this becomes the finish line for – ‘relationship sex’.

Point A can start any way whatsoever, from a playful game of boggle, to shoving anal beads up the neighbor’s cat. Point B however, ends with the defined formula to achieve HER orgasm.

A lot of the time, sex in a relationship is like a deluxe jerk-off. Optimally, both parties achieve satisfaction in a stimulating if not slightly perfunctory way. All the ‘go-to’ maneuvers are in place, and climax is pretty much ensured. It’s consistently decent – unless it’s not. To me consistent decency is what you want to shoot for in every aspect of life, whether it be a restaurant, a bowel movement, or relationship sex. If the consistency is not there, problems ensue. Some people have a problem with describing sexual intimacy as 'decent' - my girlfriend included - but to me 'decency' ranks right up there with any of the superlatives. Personally speaking, if I can maintain consistently decent sex after a year with someone, then that's the top of the pops! Usually I get sick of fucking the same person after 3-4 months.

Now, I’m not saying that ‘relationship sex’ shouldn’t vary in terms of eroticism, physicality, or emotional investment, I’m just saying one shouldn’t expect ‘le sex show’ every night. In the first place, I was never one of those ‘sex guys’ anyway. I mean, I enjoy it don’t get me wrong, it’s just not my fucking raison d’etre. I’ve known those types of guys, they’re the ones getting ‘happy endings’ at some Korean massage parlor in mid-town. They’re the ones with skin that looks like it’s been soaked in the brine of a thousand cunts.

That’s just not me.

I don’t think a relationship should revolve around sex. Sure, it should be part of it, but lets be honest here, once you’re with someone for a while, sex becomes just another thing you both do together, like having dinner, or watching the tube. Of course, once you’re in the thick of it, your brain shuts off and you turn into the monkey, but the world floods in almost instantly upon orgasm, almost as if it had all been a dream.

Some people are hyper-sexual, and in turn their relationships become sexualized. I’ve never known that to work long term. At least I’ve never experienced that – of course I’m not hyper-sexual. That’s not to say that I’m grandma moses in the sack, I’m just not a guy who has oils and vibrating eggs in a ‘goodie drawer’.

It’s just one leg of the three legged stool that makes it all up.

1)Sex, 2) liking their brain, and 3) accepting and enjoying them for who they are – because they’ll never change anyway.

bar rafieli

the indie girl in my office has knowledge of my bowel movements

RELATIONSHIPS under stress.. Can true PASSION last?...

the importance of finding true sexual compatibility

hurting for a squirting - the female ejaculation file

The odd disconnect between profile photos and reality

Video blog - 'The word on the steet' - the nature of attraction.

What we want vs. What we need and the power balance between man and women

How important are someone's politics when choosing a patrner?

Nerve Confessions: It's all about the looks stupid!

The Greatest Online Dating story - The PERSONALS file

'But baby I HAVE to put a profile up, it's required!!' - The GIRLFRIEND file

The unvarnished TRUTH about dating on the internet.

Pontifications on the bangin' of ass - The ANAL file