Anna says...
Life in the media is so much better for the single women...Sex and the City, Lipstick Jungle each show us that as strong, independent women we should (a) have an unlimited fund to buy the latest Dolce and Prada sensations; (b) we should be able to eat anything and never gain a pound; (c) meeting people is fun and easy and not exhausting in the least; (d) WE are not to blame for anything...it's all "them" (ie. males); (e) everyone is having sex and it is amazing sex and (f) we should be able to wake up and look like we just came back from a Vogue fashion shoot...
My life doesn't look remotely close to this. I'm in law school (so cue all law school references..."Legally Blond," chick from Law and Order, etc.). Except, I have no money (because I have basically set aside my savings-and the savings of others, to pay tuition and live a very frugal existence. My clothing consists of random pieces that I have collected from my life (all the way back to highschool) that I attempt to mesh together in order to form a proper outfit that will not be mocked. Oh! And, I'm not blond and have bad taste in shoes.
Luckily, I have a pretty good metabolism, but I fear feeling 'jiggly' so I refrain from eating greasy pizza and chocolate cake and (attempt) to go to the gym so that I can run off my unhealthy binges of glosette raisins and sour candies.
Meeting people is perhaps the most exhausting experience (for me anyways) and when I don't have to...I won't, because the prospect of feeling socially awkward for more than 10 minutes makes me want to vomit. Who would want to put themselves through this agony voluntarily???
My personal pet peeve is that as women, we get together (most of the time over food and/or a drink) and we try to convince ourselves that there is NOTHING wrong with US. We are PERFECT. Yeah, so what we treated a guy we liked kind of shitty...THEY should have known what they were doing wrong. Personally, I kind of think that we should start being honest with each other...not brutally honest, but honest enough to say "Dude, he smiled at you and you scowled and walked in the opposite direction...what do you expect?" That being said, prefacing the entire thing with "You're gorgeous!" or "You've got a great personality...but..." is a nice way to pad the reality bomb you're about to drop.
I'm not having sex.
When I get up, I look like garbage. BUT! On a brighter note, I really couldn't care less if anyone sees me this way (a sign of maturity I suppose). But seriously....bad hair, eye crusties, dry skin and sweat (especially during my period when I wake up and swear that I must have taken a shower fully clothed while sleeping).
G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S...oh the glamorous, oh the flossy, flossy...
Friday, March 6, 2009
Batman, Catwoman, S & M
*image courtesy of photobucket.comAmelia says -
We all knew catwoman was into it all along. She wears a skin tight leather cat suit. She's got a whip. She can fit a whole *bird* in her mouth without using her teeth. She can "lick" herself. All of these sure signs that her sex life is riddled with fetishes.
But it wasn't until I was watching an old batman movie last night that I realized the feeling was mutual. Catwoman is Batman's favourite pussy and she likes it rough. Whether she is romping with Batman or not, she's always up for pain. You shoot her - she asks for more. She does have nine lives afterall.
And the costumes. We all know playing dress-up can spice up the bedroom. Add a bit of violence and you've got yourself some S&M. And I don't know if you've noticed (but I have) just how many times they end up on top of each other - easily able to unmask or "finish each other off" but they don't. They prolong their enjoyment, staying in character ... Straddling, Mounting ... Squealing and Moaning ... What a Sexy Masquerade.
We all knew catwoman was into it all along. She wears a skin tight leather cat suit. She's got a whip. She can fit a whole *bird* in her mouth without using her teeth. She can "lick" herself. All of these sure signs that her sex life is riddled with fetishes.
But it wasn't until I was watching an old batman movie last night that I realized the feeling was mutual. Catwoman is Batman's favourite pussy and she likes it rough. Whether she is romping with Batman or not, she's always up for pain. You shoot her - she asks for more. She does have nine lives afterall.
And the costumes. We all know playing dress-up can spice up the bedroom. Add a bit of violence and you've got yourself some S&M. And I don't know if you've noticed (but I have) just how many times they end up on top of each other - easily able to unmask or "finish each other off" but they don't. They prolong their enjoyment, staying in character ... Straddling, Mounting ... Squealing and Moaning ... What a Sexy Masquerade.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
The IT Factor
Anna says...
I don't know if you've noticed ladies...but some people have 'it'. 'It' isn't really clearly defined these days-it involves mystery, confidence, arrogance, sex...I can list of people who have it, but I can't tell you what it is.
The 'it' factor doesn't necessarily involve good looks. Actually, some of the best 'it' people are not beautiful...actually, a lot of them are the opposite. But somehow, they manage to take that ridiculous looking nose and that awful chin and turn it into sexiness.
I once knew a girl who had 'it'. Actually, we were best friends. When I first met her, I thought she was the most ridiculous looking person I've ever seen in my life. Huge honker. Pale and pasty skin. Stringy hair. Strange looking. You know what though? Every guy in high school was in LOVE with her. She thought that she was hot, and some how she had convinced everyone else that she was.
I remember her telling me that it was all about confidence-posture, eye contact, head high, breasts out...It was to the point where people were scared of her because she was so sure of herself. And now that I think about it, she wasn't beautiful or moderately good looking, she was sexy.
Looks don't matter. Yeah, I know...we are a looks obsessed society (and I refuse to talk about this, because really...it's been talked about to death) but I think it's just a shortcut...a way to surpass confidence and just get attention first.
How do you get the right kind of confidence? What is supposed to run through your mind when you want to summon that inner sex-pot? I don't think that I can be of any help here...but I am probably the furthest thing from sexy...(I mean, how can you be sexy when you're 5'3 with a goofy looking smile plastered on your face sincethe day of your birth?). But, I usually feel sexiest when I'm listening to a good song...something that distracts me and I couldn't care less what I look like when I'm enjoying...hair toss, sultry eyes...smoldering stare...
I don't know if you've noticed ladies...but some people have 'it'. 'It' isn't really clearly defined these days-it involves mystery, confidence, arrogance, sex...I can list of people who have it, but I can't tell you what it is.
The 'it' factor doesn't necessarily involve good looks. Actually, some of the best 'it' people are not beautiful...actually, a lot of them are the opposite. But somehow, they manage to take that ridiculous looking nose and that awful chin and turn it into sexiness.
I once knew a girl who had 'it'. Actually, we were best friends. When I first met her, I thought she was the most ridiculous looking person I've ever seen in my life. Huge honker. Pale and pasty skin. Stringy hair. Strange looking. You know what though? Every guy in high school was in LOVE with her. She thought that she was hot, and some how she had convinced everyone else that she was.
I remember her telling me that it was all about confidence-posture, eye contact, head high, breasts out...It was to the point where people were scared of her because she was so sure of herself. And now that I think about it, she wasn't beautiful or moderately good looking, she was sexy.
Looks don't matter. Yeah, I know...we are a looks obsessed society (and I refuse to talk about this, because really...it's been talked about to death) but I think it's just a shortcut...a way to surpass confidence and just get attention first.
How do you get the right kind of confidence? What is supposed to run through your mind when you want to summon that inner sex-pot? I don't think that I can be of any help here...but I am probably the furthest thing from sexy...(I mean, how can you be sexy when you're 5'3 with a goofy looking smile plastered on your face sincethe day of your birth?). But, I usually feel sexiest when I'm listening to a good song...something that distracts me and I couldn't care less what I look like when I'm enjoying...hair toss, sultry eyes...smoldering stare...
You know, your whatever-you-call-it
Amelia says -
I’m talking about the names we call our junk. Men and women both.
I had some friends over the other day and we were talking about vibrators (ie: the beaver … for your beaver …) and everything else girly and / or sexual. And we realized that we all call our junk some very different names. I have a twat. Sometimes it’s a hoo ha. Or a wazo. Depends on my mood. And I don’t really care what you’ve named your sexy bits but I do care that certain precautions are taken in choosing the name.
The va-j.j.
It’s not a thoroughfare or a tunnel. It’s not a receptacle. Please stop calling it your mail slot or garage. It has a function and when I think about mine, I prefer not to think about it solely in terms of how YOU would use it.
It doesn’t have teeth. I prefer not to think of it as an animal (specifically a beaver – which is the bane of all tree-shaped objects coming its way)
Because it is *edible, you may also name it after food. Men may also name their schlongs after food (ie: the dong becomes a ding-dong). But be careful which type of food you name it after: Fish? No
Taco? Let's think about it - hot, ok. meaty, maybe. juicy, sloppy, slipping out all over the place? I hate to break it to you guys, but most girls don't come that way (pardon the pun). In sum, no.
Muffin - fine.
Do you see the difference?
Your dong.
Most guys call it something reminiscent of a conqueror. A soldier. It has a helmet. A purple headed yogurt slinger, cock (the proudest of the barnyard animals). Either way, it is to be respected. But every time you use it, you cannot always conquer. That would make you a rapist. (Which you do not want to be ... did I have to spell that out for you?)
Some guys call it their rod - and yes, it's like fishing when you randomly point it around hoping for a bite. So fine.
Some names come with ego attached. "Love stick" would be one of them. It's not love. It's sex. I may not now or ever love you. I hope your wounded ego does not take too long to heal.
Or they simply call it *insert his name here* junior.
For the most part though, men tend to use more positive terms to refer to their wangs while women and men both sometimes use derogatory names for vaginas.
Slight tangent, most of us do not call it a vagina. My sister was in the movie store one night and saw the Vagina Monologues on the shelf. Confused, she yelled across the store "hey! What's a vageena? Vageena? ... oh crap. nevermind"
Back to the important stuff ... do you see where I’m going?
My junk is just as significant and important as yours. Get it, or get out.
I’m talking about the names we call our junk. Men and women both.
I had some friends over the other day and we were talking about vibrators (ie: the beaver … for your beaver …) and everything else girly and / or sexual. And we realized that we all call our junk some very different names. I have a twat. Sometimes it’s a hoo ha. Or a wazo. Depends on my mood. And I don’t really care what you’ve named your sexy bits but I do care that certain precautions are taken in choosing the name.
The va-j.j.
It’s not a thoroughfare or a tunnel. It’s not a receptacle. Please stop calling it your mail slot or garage. It has a function and when I think about mine, I prefer not to think about it solely in terms of how YOU would use it.
It doesn’t have teeth. I prefer not to think of it as an animal (specifically a beaver – which is the bane of all tree-shaped objects coming its way)
Because it is *edible, you may also name it after food. Men may also name their schlongs after food (ie: the dong becomes a ding-dong). But be careful which type of food you name it after: Fish? No
Taco? Let's think about it - hot, ok. meaty, maybe. juicy, sloppy, slipping out all over the place? I hate to break it to you guys, but most girls don't come that way (pardon the pun). In sum, no.
Muffin - fine.
Do you see the difference?
Your dong.
Most guys call it something reminiscent of a conqueror. A soldier. It has a helmet. A purple headed yogurt slinger, cock (the proudest of the barnyard animals). Either way, it is to be respected. But every time you use it, you cannot always conquer. That would make you a rapist. (Which you do not want to be ... did I have to spell that out for you?)
Some guys call it their rod - and yes, it's like fishing when you randomly point it around hoping for a bite. So fine.
Some names come with ego attached. "Love stick" would be one of them. It's not love. It's sex. I may not now or ever love you. I hope your wounded ego does not take too long to heal.
Or they simply call it *insert his name here* junior.
For the most part though, men tend to use more positive terms to refer to their wangs while women and men both sometimes use derogatory names for vaginas.
Slight tangent, most of us do not call it a vagina. My sister was in the movie store one night and saw the Vagina Monologues on the shelf. Confused, she yelled across the store "hey! What's a vageena? Vageena? ... oh crap. nevermind"
Back to the important stuff ... do you see where I’m going?
My junk is just as significant and important as yours. Get it, or get out.
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