“Hi Kristen, I have a problem that I think many women might have. I am a little embarrassed to have my boyfriend see me completely nude. To me my body seems just average I guess, nothing spectacular and certainly not one I would call sexy. However, my guy likes to see me undress and worse, likes to have the lights on during sex! To be fair to him, he has never made a negative comment about my body. On the contrary he seems to like it! I can’t help but wonder though, what is he really thinking when he sees me naked!”—–Callie
What’s he really thinking when he sees you nude? Two words: eye candy. And quite honestly Callie, he’s more than likely not thinking at all! Continue reading…
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I’ve learned a lot of things from the women in my life. How to appreciate wine, do my own taxes, not be a douchebag. And because of them, I am a fan of Pinot Noir, keep a shoebox of receipts, and am a fan of Pinot Noir. But more on this later.
Sex without dirty talk is a bland affair, like chicken nuggets without the hot mustard. Without that whispered verbal communication and the trust that goes with it, body and mind aren’t connected. No, I’m not getting all Deepak Chopra all up in this joint. Sex is a brain thing as much as a skin thing. Without uncensored, honest, blushing dirty talk in bed (or the backseat, stairwell, or under the kitchen table) there is no way to find out if she needs it faster or slower. You’d never learn that she likes her hair pulled to the left, while you softly kiss her jaw line on the right side of her face. Apparently, there’s a world of difference between a flick and a pinch. These are important facts, and the reverse is true when you’re with your man. Keep reading »
When it comes to “feminism,” I have more questions than answers. So I emailed Sady at the smart, free-wheeling lady blog Tiger Beatdown and asked her if she’d answer some of them. In the interest of full disclosure, she has, on occasion, offered succinct and thoughtful analysis of some of my work on this site. I realize that what I know about “feminism,” specifically its recent history and its academic role, could fit into a thimble. My questions might seem basic, but remember, I’m the one with the testicles over here.
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A reader sent me an email and asked me if I would ever date someone with an incurable STD. She had recently been diagnosed with the HSV virus (that’s herpes, y’all), and wanted my answer to be honest and not “PC.” So here it is goes, my unvarnished, gut reaction to the question: No, I would not date someone with an incurable STD. Keep reading »
Oh, Men’s Health, I think I owe you a thank you note! Just when I think I’ve run out of stuff to blog about, you never fail to provide something so silly, so ridiculous, I’d be a fool to pass up the opportunity to poke some some fun. Today’s gem is an article called “50 Things Women Wish Men Knew,” which should really be called “20 Things Every Man Should Know Before He’s 10 and 30 Things Only Terribly Insecure, Needy, Neurotic Women Want Their Men To Know.” After the jump, 10 things from the article I can’t imagine any woman I know wishing her man knew about her. Keep reading »
Here’s proof that you can never read a guy, or never know what he’s really thinking. Last week, I participated in The New York Post‘s “Meet Market,” a weekly feature that sets up couples, and then reports on their dates. Aside from a horrible photo of me in a high-circulation newspaper (really…are my cheeks really that big and shiny?), the experience was enjoyable because I got a free meal, and for the first time ever, I also saw the honest report of the man’s side of the date. And let me tell you, it wasn’t at all what I expected. For starters, the moment I saw the photo, I knew my perception was off. During our date, a photographer came and had us act out different scenarios, for example, where we’re both happy and the date went great, or if I gave the evening a bad report, I would look bored and he would look amused, etc, etc. I was fairly sure that I would open my paper to see a picture of us both smiling. Wrong. There I am, beaming like a fool and my date, Travis, looking horrified. Oh no, I thought. He’s said something awful about me, I imagined, before I could even begin reading the article. Keep reading »
Here’s my worst first date story: she told me she was lactose intolerant, but ordered the French onion soup. I thought, “How irresponsible.” Every woman I know has at least one horrifying dating disaster tale. Most women have multiple ones. They usually begin with “I met him on Match.com” or “He was the best friend of my second cousin’s college roommate” and end with a daring escape, a mad dash into a cab, and unhinged texts from the guy for the next two weeks.
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It was a total misunderstanding that one time I bought a woman I was dating sexy lingerie, the slinky, lacy kind that looked like it was made out of the doilies that decorated my grandmother’s beloved sofa. She thought I was disingenuously buying her a gift that was really a gift for me. I protested, of course, because it was never my idea to veer into Victoria Secret’s during one of our weekend shopping excursions that were theoretically about her training me to be, if not fashion forward, then at least fashion neutral. A happy compromise, considering I, apparently, was clinging to late-’90s fashion like a koala bear to the last eucalyptus tree on Earth. But, in fact, these sprees were about her dragging me by the throat to store after store.
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Today, Glamour‘s know-it-all guy-about-relationships, Jake, thinks us gals put on certain acts to attract men. Now, I’m willing to cop to having tried out a few flirting tactics here and there—but to me, morphing into a girl I’m not, just to snag a dude, was never in the cards. How freaking exhausting. It’s hard enough being me sometimes, why the hell would I try to be “outgoing-dancing-on-the-bar-because-I’m-sooooo-fun” me? Or “that-should-have-been-a-foul-go-Celtics” me? I just don’t think most of us out there are that contrived in our date-me ploys. And if you are pulling this BS, well, you ain’t fooling anyone, most of all the male species (or this Jake character and his bros). What do you think of these five ladies? My two cents are following his “sage” words… Keep reading »
Last night, while I was writing my piece on the 7 types of sex that don’t have to count, I IM’d with a guy friend of mine, who said the one sexual experience he doesn’t always count is the one in which he, um, sucked. Which got me thinking of the bad sex I’ve had thanks to the occasional dude who couldn’t get it up and then I realized I’ve never actually asked the fellas on my IM about the worst they’ve ever been in bed. I sought to rectify that immediately. Keep reading »