Halloween is an interesting night for hookups with its own peculiar array of pros and cons. One Hallow’s Eve back in my 20s, I remember having this realization as I made out with a guy at a party. He was dressed as Frankenstein. I’ve never gotten green greasepaint makeup all over myself while making out before … I wonder if it will make me break out? The thought distracted me while we sucked face. This is an example of a uniquely Halloween hookup issue. The makeup did not make me break out for the record. And he got back together with his ex-girlfriend the following week, so that’s that. But these types of things good things to know. After the jump, some more ways hooking up on Halloween is different. Keep reading »
Playboy collected anecdotes, and tallied and rated colleges to see where the most partying is going on. Their method was to take the top 100 colleges in the US and measure them in the categories of sex, sports and nightlife. I’ve made no secret about the fact that I have no interest in sports and I’m too old for nightlife (I can barely make it up past 1 a.m. anymore). So that leaves sex. Let’s talk about which schools ranked as the best places to get laid. Ahem, my alma mater, NYU, ranks near the top of the heap. Go Violets! Mom and Dad, stop reading now. Keep reading »
“Double, double toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble.” You are probably envisioning a bunch of warty, green-faced witches with broomsticks and pointy, black hats huddled arounds a cauldron casting a spell, right? I guess we can thank Shakespeare’s Macbeth for that. This image of the witch has become so intertwined with Halloween, but has little in common with real witches past or present. After the jump, a few things you might not have known about witches. Keep reading »
Hello, there. Full disclosure. This post is a thinly veiled excuse for me to complain about my really bad morning. I could have used an open letter format. Had I, it might have been titled “An Open Letter To The Broken Refrigerator That Ruined My Morning.” I would have ranted about my broken refrigerator and all the rotten food I had to discard. And how the delivery men destroyed my apartment getting the new fridge in/old fridge out. And how my landlord stopped by in the middle of the fridge chaos to tell me that I might have a gas leak and that he is raising the rent (all in the same sentence, mind you). I might have gone on to complain about how I spent a good portion of the morning cleaning melt-y, frozen, chicken juice off my hopelessly outdated linoleum floor.
But then I thought about how Jessica got barfed on while riding the subway yesterday and how comparatively, her morning mishap was worse than mine. And then I thought about all of you out there who’ve also probably had really unfortunate stuff happen to you in the morning and how you might feel better if we could all commiserate about it together. And then I determined that a listicle of awful morning shit was in order. For all of our cathartic pleasures, find below, a compilation of crap that will absolutely obliterate your morning (based on things that have really happened to us). Keep reading »
Happy National Unmarried and Single Americans Week! It’s a real holiday. Yes, it is! It’s a week for singles and unmarrieds to celebrate themselves, to flaunt their status and feel superior to all the coupleds and marrieds. Or something like that. I’m not sure. It’s been National Singles Week for me for the better part of seven years and I’ve never felt superior. Well, maybe a few times. Keep reading »
The first thing you need to know is that I didn’t start masturbating until the age of 17. I’d gone through the ol’ puberty at 12 – I’d felt the universal stirrings down below – but it took me that extra five years to work out what I ought to do about it. Had I been interviewed at age 15 about female arousal, I would’ve said something like, “The only way to reach orgasm is through having sex.”
I believed that this feeling, whatever it was, could be … solved, let’s say, solely through use of the male penis. (As though there’s any other kind!)
But, oh: How wrong I was.
It’s hard to remember exactly what happened when finally it struck me all those years later that I could tend to things myself. I know the movie “Gas, Food, Lodgings” was involved. I’d been watching it in the basement of my family’s empty house, and there’d been some scene wherein some attractive male actor pushes Ione Skye up against a wall, and then they have very satisfying sex in an upright position in what appears to be a cave. It was terribly arousing, and the house was so terribly empty, and somehow, finally, I saw my right hand, and I knew. Keep reading »