In one week, I’m celebrating a BIG birthday: 30! In acknowledgment of the fact that I’ve spent over half of my 20s working at The Frisky, I’m going to reach down deep into to archives and revisit some old posts. I’ll examine what I wrote at the time and how that has or hasn’t changed. If you have any suggestions of old posts you’d like me to revisit, tell me in the comments or shoot me an email at Jessica@TheFrisky.com. First up …
The Post: “Why I Like Being Called A Slut In Bed”
Publication Date: February 2, 2011 Keep reading »
Let’s all be adults for a second and admit to watching porn. It happens, sometimes by accident. I remember HBO used to air those scandalous late night movies starting as early as 10pm, which was basically when the good movies 13 year-old Molly wanted to watch ended. So yeah, I’ve seen some things. In all of these movies there is a woman screaming, at the top of her lungs, something completely ridiculous.
Listen to me carefully: I do not want you to be those women. Read more on College Candy…
We were walking down the street when Colin asked me if I’d ever feel comfortable saying that word. Colin — 24, biracial in the way that is still largely read as black — and me, a Jewish but let’s be serious, white, girl on the edge of 30; and Colin wanting to know whether I, with my intelligent, progressive world view, would ever say that one word that white people are not allowed to say.
I paused before responding. “Well,” I said finally, “on the one hand, I think that words on their own are completely meaningless, and only ‘offensive’ because we, as a society, imbue them with meaning and power. On the other hand, I understand the painful history behind that word, and I don’t think that arguing for my supposed right to be able to say it is a battle worth fighting.”
“Have you ever said it?” he asked.
I had. Years before, as a younger and more naive me working at an after school program serving low-income (and predominantly Black and Latino) high school students, I’d said it during a class. I forget the point I’d been trying to make; but I remember assuming the affect of one of my students and saying that word, though, of course, with a soft a at the end. The stunned, uncomfortable silence that resulted was enough to deter me from ever saying it again.
“Yeah,” I said. “And I didn’t feel good about it.” Keep reading »
No one on earth is quite as pleased as a man who has just pleased a woman between the sheets. We love the care and attention you’ve paid to us for our own benefit, but we also love watching you bask in self-satisfaction. But as satisfied as you might be with yourself, sometimes we’re not quite as satisfied as you’d hoped: something relatively minor, but highly distracting, was a bit “off.”
Don’t be offended, darlings, but a few nips and tucks in your bedroom style might speed things along (in a good way)—leaving us more time for another go at it! Keep reading »
Monday morning at The Frisky offices is all about weekend hookups, natch. Today, I had to share all about the guy who wanted to be called “sir” in bed — as in “Please, sir, may I have another?” Calling a guy “sir” in bed feels so formal to me. But I suppose if I’m going to ask a guy to call me a “slut” in bed then I cannot be too picky. I would draw the line at calling a man “daddy,” however. That’s just too much for me. Amelia gamely admitted a guy once asked her, “Who’s your daddy?” I would probably have told him “Mr. Wakeman” and then leapt out of bed to scrub my brain clean.
What’s the weirdest thing a partner has asked you to call them in the bedroom? Did you oblige or were you too uncomfortable? Tell us in the comments! Keep reading »
After a slew of flings that consisted of more games than the World Cup, I was practically in heaven when I met Jake – an intelligent, successful, Southern gentleman who eerily resembled New York Mets heartthrob David Wright. Keep reading »
I get called a “slut” all the time. My friend Ashley calls me a slut like it’s my name: “Slut!” The Frisky staff calls each other sluts when we divulge our sexual escapades. Internet commenting trolls call me a slut fairly regularly (and a “bitch”, and a c-word, and plenty of other foul things). I call myself a slut, like, say, last week when I hooked up with a dude on the first date. A lot of 20-something women are used to being called a slut in some area of their lives, in every situation from “haha, just kidding” with our friends or (cool) co-workers to more serious areas, like when it’s hurled at us by a catcaller. “Slut” is one of those female-centric words — like “bitch,” like “feminist” — that can mean so many things that it almost means nothing anymore. Except, it turns out, in bed. Keep reading »