Weak Sauce

Why do men feel that the only way to gain power over a woman is to degrade her by calling her a cunt or a bitch or a slut? Is it lack of intelligence? Is it the need to make a cheap shot? Is it because they don't know how else to assert their feelings, thoughts, or emotions? Why does saying words that carry such baggage make guys feel like they've really won? On that note, why does the word cunt carry so much emotional baggage anyway? Why is cunt so much more damaging than calling a guy a dick or an asshole? Is it because women have made it that way? I want to know what went down back in the day when cunt was first used as a verbal right hook. What was the syntax? In what context was cunt used to degrade a female for the first time? How did it come to have so much weight in the line-up of derogatory female terms.No matter how it got there, it did. Now it's used as a heavy weight in the verbal argument boxing ring. Guys know that they can use that word as a KO when they have no other way to beat their opponent. It's used as a copout and it's used as a last resort.

So, is it a lack of intelligence? Is it because the man who's using the word has neurons that are firing at snail speed and all he can come up with is to sling the dirtiest female insult and hope it carries the punch of a justified rebuttal? I don't think so. I think even a very smart man who's at his emotional tipping point has the ability to use cunt as a copout when he really wants to stab you in your gut, because of the historical weight of the word.

Is it the need to make a cheap shot? Definitely. Just as if two guys were in a fist fight: a guy will only nut shot another guy if he wants to a) seem like a bitch (and I say that word with no gender bias) or b) knowingly take a cheap shot but can't help himself because he needs to get his opponent in an position that he knows will send him to the ground.

Is it because they don't know how else to assert their feelings, thoughts, or emotions? Yes. Because for men the process of feeling emotions, then thinking about them, then having to come to the epiphany of verbalizing those thoughts is a process that could take months or even years. For that water to come to a boil requires many years of maturity, very strong mothering growing up, and overhearing episodes of Oprah. Then and only then could a male truly, without error or ignorance, voice his emotions appropriately.

However most males aren't to that point. instead when they feel anger, frustration, sadness, and pain and they try to express those emotions in a heated battle, the attempt is usually a failed one. They choose the easier route of calling the girl a cunt to release all that excess steam in their head. So once again congratulations males on slowing your emotional evolution that much more.

Who's Your Daddy?

Gold diggers, cougars, pool boys, and cradle robbers. Every age and every motive has a nickname and a namesake. Whichever end of the spectrum you fall under, it seems that at some point in everyone’s lives we search for someone out of our age range – whether you’re the gold digger in her 20’s wooing wrinklies in their 60’s, the cougar in her 50’s trying to entrap guys in their 30’s, the pool boy in his teens wishing he could motorboat the MILF, or the cradle robber in their 30’s who preys on preteens.

Where’s the fun in someone your own age? Sure there may be the commonalities…

People in your year at school: you see them in your classes; you see them at weekend parties; they’re your study buddy that you see every day in the library. Hooking up is convenient, you don’t have to worry if they’re secretly married or a murderer on the side, and usually their sexual stamina is on target with yours.

People parallel to you in your working life: they’re also pathetic part timers who are making minimum wage; or they too just entered the real working world and know the struggles of rejection, rejection, back to the bar. You have to actually try to hook up, but the advantage is that now you’ve got bar crawls and growing desperation on your side. Dates have to be cheaper with limited funds, but at least you can expect to be taken on a date. Lastly, being able to bitch about “the man” with your partner is so much more mature than complaining about cafeteria food.

However… just like the clingy girl who won’t get off your nuts, or the creepy guy in class you ALWAYS catch starring, commonalities get annoying.

We go for people out of our age range because it’s exciting, unexpected, and it’s always good to have at least one pleasure point guard with experience. It’s just plain lies and deceit when couples gush about how great it was to learn WITH each other what works in the bedroom. Sloppy experimentation should be left in the labs and “naughty school girl” isn’t just a fantasy; to capitalize on pleasure cues, one must teach while the other learns.

Whether it’s right or wrong to date over or under is up to you to decide. If a girl wants to give up chiseled abs and an easy boner for saggy skin and Viagra popping, it is her prerogative. If boys want to fuel the sexual peak of an older woman, remember the moral of “Do your ears hang low” and most importantly, don’t sow your seed with any moms in the PTA. It’s a fast-flooding network, and YOUR mother will.find.out.

Nads: New Awareness on Dome Skills

Nuts, balls, sac-o-fun, the boys, tinymantits, bag of tricks, the list could go on. The two things we need to know about balls are:

1) Boys SHAVE THEM

2) Girls DON’T FEAR THEM

It’s a man eat, girl suck world out there so boys if you expect your woman to not be rough in the muff then you better keep your down-unders groomed as well. I haven’t taken a recent poll on this so I don’t know the exact feel of the feminine vibe out there on whether or not everyone’s down to “play ball.”So in favor of doubting the domestic race lets touch on a few things.

I know neither the bat nor the balls are all too welcoming; from the veins to the growth to the elasto-bandibility… it’s all very eeeh. But get over it. Girls, just like our emotions, the ‘nads on a man aren’t given enough attention. Maybe the sooner you start playing a little hacky sack the sooner your man will feel inclined to tend to your abandoned emotions.

Imagine your guy’s tumblers like the NOS button on a car. I’m sure we’ve all felt this frustration a time or two. We’ll turn him on, gun his accelerator, and get him to peak performance… and then the engine blows and the race is lost. However, now that we know the pleasure principle, right as he’s at that breaking point punch (not literally, have a little consideration you sadist) that NOS button and you’ll send your guy right over the finish line and victory is yours.

VERY IMPORTANT:: Do not settle for a dirty playground. You wouldn’t eat your spaghetti if your meatballs were covered in hair so don’t settle for any less when devouring your man meat.

Guys, shave. Let your burr run rampant all over your chest, arms, face, and fanny (neither you nor your girlfriend should be hanging out in that back porch) for all I care (not really, in a perfect world the only hair on a man would be on his head but let’s tackle one problem at a time) but keep the hair out of your pants. Clean up, spritz some smell good, and make your humble abode as welcoming as possible. If you’re lucky maybe the testie twins will have some guests.

Gratitude v. Frattitude

When fratties turn into fathers, excuses turn into emotions, and playing with his PS2 turns into dealing with PMS, you know your boy has turned into a man. It’s not all about throwing away your raunchy jokes and “boy’s night out;” it’s about switching cognition from your penis to your brain.

For example:

Every guy wants to fool around. At 15, they’re longing for Jenna Jameson to jack them off, instead of her glossy centerfold, aided by their own right hand; at 25, they’re still trying to grab at your vagina through your jeans. To know whether or not you’re wasting your time with a toddler who has absolutely no tricks up his sleeve, look for these telltale signs:

If you’re cuddling with your guy, whether it be watching a movie in your bed, or watching the game on your couch, run a little experiment to see which head he’s using. While the movie is getting intense or the game is just getting good, initiate TSK (touching, stroking, kissing). Your guy will notice you’re beginning to stroke his face, kiss his neck, or touch his joystick; it’s what he does with this red flag that indicates his intuitive age.

A boy will sacrifice the greater good and settle for the cuddle compromise. He won’t get up from watching his game just to see if you’re really in the mood for something more. However, a man will take the initiative, with his wise years of experience and intuitive know-how, he’ll know the advantage of capitalizing on this opportunity. If you want something straight out of a storybook, he’ll scoop you up and whisk you away into the bedroom for a power hour of playtime. If you want reality, he’ll probably just get down to business when and where you both are.

The biggest difference between boys and men is their motivation. Boys are motivated by vagina and instant gratification, the thrill of the chase and the freedom of no responsibility. If your boy is watching a football game and you’re trying to fool around, your needs are put on the back burner while his football fetish remains top priority. Boys don’t understand the concept of brownie points. Men, on the other hand, are fueled by the capture of a goal, a love for women, and the rewards that come with responsibility. Men understand that women are needy and manipulative – they’ve seen the dark side and learned how to battle it. So, they see our sexual seduction during Monday Night Football for what it really is: a test. A test, if scored well on, that will reward them in more ways than one. Men do the work because they understand and appreciate the benefits of: GRATITUDE. Boys can be lazy, because they’re capitalizing on a phenomenon that exists in college, and that usually ends up rewarding them either way: FRATITUDE.

Don't Fake it Till You Make It

Fake it till you make it is a tag line we love to use in America. It's beneficial with networking, climbing the social ladder, and boosting your man's self esteem. You know what it's not beneficial for? Getting an orgasm. No matter how many times you run your hands through your mans hair hoping to arouse some sexual sensation, and no matter how many times you finally let out a moan in an attempt to throw in the towel, this.will.not.lead.you.to.an.orgasm. You're only hurting yourself by letting a guy rub you raw and acting like a pleasure bomb was just shoved up your vajayjay. Why lie?! Why allow yourself to be put through this torture night after night? If you're too lazy to teach your man, then toss your man, because his dysfunctional digits will only lead you to despair and doubt. Doubt on whether you'll ever get to climax without self-help or a pocket rocket. And who wants that?

Do NOT fake it!! If you're thinking about what outfit you'll wear tomorrow, or whether or not you turned off the hall light while he's pounding into you, RED FLAG. Instead of letting out a generic "Oh God. Oh yes." and hoping that'll suffice his ego, grab the reigns to that train wreck and lead it to pleasure town yourself! Whether you're having sex, finger fking, or he went for a dive down under, switch.it.up. You know what you like (and if you don't then quit trying to find euphoria from foreign fingers and get friendly with yourself) so take command! Flip him under you, guide his hand or hair in whatever way will make you say "oh GOD. oh YES." instead. If he's still not grasping the gspot then charts, graphs, and Late Night Sex Talk with Sue Johanson might be required.

The longer you let him refer to himself as Get Me Off Garret God of Sex when he can't even get you in the mood... the longer you let him swagger into the room and ask "Two? Three? How many times you wanna get off tonight baby?" when you can't even remember the last time he got you aroused... the more you will resent him and the more your pleasure pouch will resent you!! It's easy for guys to get theirs, some practically go in their shorts from a dry hump, so just because pleasing a female takes some time and effort don't give up on your man and start faking it.

How Far is Too Far?

TCU's Most Perfected Art Form : The Hook Up :: How Far is Too Far

The line is a dot to you. Sexual norms are a thing of the past and a disregard for caution has replaced the courtesy knock. Why not just join in?! The term "crossing the line" was once used to scold actions and enforce modesty. However, today that line has become something of hindsight, along with condoms and timid advances.

How far is too far? If you're asking that question you've gone too far. To not understand your own boundaries is to ensure a self fulfilling prophecy of cold sores and an itchy crotch. `

If I were to be diplomatic, I'd say it's all relative. But where's the fun in that?

For instance, Betty the Bicycle will spread her legs for Harrison's head nod, Bobby's boob grab, or Larry's lusty embrace. For Betty the concept of going "too far" is only a mirage, fabricated by parents and pastors to scare young girls away from experimentation.

On the other hand, Too Tight Tara flaunts her chastity ring proudly and slaps any boy who dares to think crude thoughts in her presence. Tara's concept of "too far" is also a mirage, blurred together with hand holding, boyfriends, and blind dates. Where one is blinded by overindulgence, the other is masked with innocence.

How did we develop this wide range of social norms? Was it our upbringing, our environment, or our genetic moral compass that has so many of us headed in different directions. It's hard to say who's trekking the right path. Betty could get knocked up, realize her worth as a woman and be changed for the better. Tara could become asexual and hate men for the rest of her life. There's no "right" set of guidelines to follow in regards to how you should deviate your sexual experiences. All you can follow is your gut feeling. Side note : when extremely wasted, that's not your gut urging you to go further, it's your sexual frustration lashing out.

So, how far is too far? To each their own, whether that be a peck or a moan. Just remember no glove no love, no means no, and wonder is mystery but regret is forever.

Hall of Fame

To call myself an escape artist of dating would be giving me personally too much credit. I would never be able to dip out of a dastardly date without the help of friends, phones, and phony excuses. To bail on a date is said to be one of the most unforgivable foes a girl can commit. Sizing up the situation, the male picked you up, paid for your evening, and most importantly roused up the gusto to even ask you out-- so in theory you should at least give him the decency to attend the entire evening. However, if said male met you there, denied payment, or even an offer to fulfill patriarchal duties, and asked you to this date via text message, your feminine obligation has been rebuked.

Background information: blind date scenario prefaced with lots of flirtatious texting. (Side note: never get over zealous with texting a guy you have yet to meet in person, this only over exaggerates the initial meeting, and sets up expectations that shouldn't naturally have been there to begin with.)

Set the scene: Front of the movie theatre... I'm overdressed, too much make-up, and have the anxiety of a mail-ordered bride waiting to see her potential life partner. I'm waiting there, alone, because my texting teddy bear has chosen to meet me at the theatre... for a more dramatic eye-locking-love moment, or to secure his own escape route if necessary? I'll never know.

We find each other, I run into his arms, we embrace, we kiss, we fall in love. Oh, sorry my hopes and dreams took over the keyboard. Realistically, we find each other, we shuffle back and forth in an overly awkward "do we hug?" dance. We don't hug. We get in line for tickets, my white knight lags behind in line. Maybe he's shy? We arrive at the ticket line, my hunny is still hanging back. Maybe he's cheap. I pay for my own ticket without so much as an offer from Mr. Potential. We get our seats, and stare at the screen. Maybe there's so much sexual tension between us neither of us can even think of anything to say without bursting! He turns to me and insults my shirt. Maybe he's a prick. Midway through the movie I can't take this anymore. I SOS my friend to call for an "emergency." When she calls I answer, frantically, and jet out of the theatre. On my way to the parking lot I shoot him a consolation text of my sincerest apologies, quickly before deleting his number. Maybe I'll stick to finding my own conquests.