Things that men and women do, sometimes to each other
To all wimmens:
Sorry I missed International Woman’s Day (or whatever you call it) yesterday. I have no excuse other than that I’d been working since 4am and for some reason, the date just slipped my mind. Please accept my humblest apologies.
Now… I’d like a sandwich. One of these, preferably:
No? Well, all righty then. I’m off to the range instead.
Via Insty, I see that some slut is boasting of how she’s bonked three Uber drivers in the course of her travels around (duh) Manhattan. Leaving aside that the whole thing might be totally bogus — which is often the case with these “Penthouse Letters” fantasies — I suppose that the scenario is quite plausible.
Thank goodness it’ll never happen to me. This is mainly due to the fact that I work from 4am till early afternoon, because I refuse to work the “late-night-drunk” shift. Mostly, I get to take harried executives — male and female — to and from the airport, so let’s just say that it’s an unlikely scenario. Also, as the article allows, it’s against Uber’s rules and I’m kinda law-abiding when to comes to that kind of thing. And even further, I’m at an age when I’m no longer ruled by my dick — I rather outgrew this silliness when I played in a band in my teens and twenties — and even if some insane woman did offer herself to me (we’re talking Powerball odds here anyway), I’m just not gonna do it because… sheesh, do I even have to explain how wrong it is?
I’m just not interested in giving a complete stranger that kind of power over me. Nor should anyone. Not even with her…
Yeah I know, I know… but I don’t have any other pics of strange women lying in taxicabs. It’s never been a fetish of mine.
Here’s another face-palming moment in our modern Zeitgeist:
Women don’t regret a one night stand as long as they made the first move and the person they are sleeping with is good in bed, study finds
And they have even less regret if their random bed partner buys them a new house too. (Okay, that part wasn’t in the study, but it’s not an illogical corollary by any means.)
So if Madame decides to grace some bloke with access to her pudenda, AND he performs like a stud muffin, she is well-pleased. We needed a study to tell us this?
And if she allowed herself to be seduced after a few cocktails and her paramour turned out to be a lousy lover, then she’s filled with remorse and self-loathing and may decide that the whole event was rapey and she needs to call the cops. I mean, making a questionable decision is one thing, but then to have the guy not satisfy Madame? It’s a crime. (And it’s doubleplusungood if he kicks her out and makes her find her own way home…)
I am so glad that I’m past this particular stage of the Sex Wars.
As Loyal Readers know, I have little truck with the doings of the Kardashian coven and their assorted sperm providers, and just ignore stories of their immoral and foul doings.
But every so often a headline will catch my attention en passant, just as a door handle will occasionally catch your sleeve as you’re walking through a doorway (with much the similar degree of irritation, I should add), and one such thing happened to me over the weekend. Here’s the headline:
Kylie Jenner, 20, proudly poses in a thong just one month after giving birth to Stormi
…Kylie being the daughter of matriarch Kris Kardashian Jenner and one-time Olympic hero Bruce (now “Caitlyn”) Jenner, and “Stormi”, of course, being the illiterate invented name the twenty-year-old single mother chose to inflict on her illegitimate daughter. (Just think of all the questionable behaviors contained in that single sentence, and you have an idea of why I think the entire Kardashian-Jenner clan members are such a pox on society.)
And that’s what caught my attention. Regardless of all that immoral foolishness, at some point in time, Caitlyn Jenner is going to be introduced to this baby girl as “Grandpa”. The implications of this event on a young girl’s mind are unfathomable — although no doubt the introduction will be screened on the Kardashian attention-whores’ TV show so we’ll all be witness to the occasion.
Another little burr on my attention noted that Bruce / Caitlyn is all butt-hurt that “she” hasn’t been allowed to meet his / her grandchild yet. Quelle surprise.
And yes, folks: that is the sound of loud hoofbeats thundering in your ears at this moment.
Seeing as we’re already on the topic (see next post below), you just have to know you’re in for a few laughs when an article begins with these words:
“The point of this article is to shamelessly up your orgasm quota..”
Race quotas, gender quotas, LGBTOSTFU quotas, and now orgasm quotas. Do we need any of these anymore?
Anyway, those are the seven things that Tracey Cox [sic] suggests “will guarantee an orgasm EVERY time”.
I am not an expert on these matters, but I have to tell you that in my somewhat checkered experience, a couple of them will guarantee not an orgasm but raucous laughter or the services of an osteopath. What’s needed in those cases are a good strong pulley setup and an ostrich feather, maybe two.
I will concede, however, that one of her suggestions is a 100% slam-dunk, every single time.
(And no, I’m not going to tell you which one. You can find it for yourself, just like I had to.)
Apparently it’s quite easy to restore a woman’s libido:
Zaps to the ankle may boost a woman’s libido more than foreplay: sending electrical signals from the foot to the base of the spine can cause arouse in less than 30 minutes
Knowing that my Loyal Readers are often of a DIY disposition, however, I would caution y’all before you try this on your girlfriends / wives / FWBs with your own equipment, such as this:
…or this:
The effect on yer beloved may be a little more, ummm extreme than you may have been expecting.
Don’t ask me how I know this.
For my Lady Readers: don’t even go there.
And a final thought: 30 minutes? If you can’t get yer old lady started with 30 minutes of traditional foreplay, you either need to update your technique or else check her pulse.