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 »
I don’t believe that once a cheater, always a cheater. That specific aphorism is a bitter, moralizing form of self-deception. We all are cheaters; none of us is invulnerable to temptation. What defines a person is not whether they are faithless. It is a simple, easy thing to impulsively take that which you want. No, what defines a person is whether they chose to stay faithful. That is difficult, and that active decision, that vigilance, is the steep price love demands. Keep reading »
In the latest issue of GQ, Neel Shah writes that he went on a blind date with a woman who immediately turned him off by wearing “faded True Religion jeans.” He then goes on to describe how a girl’s style plays a big part in whether or not he could date him. While Shah’s example is a little on the, uh, picky side, I don’t think he’s all that unusual. Personally, style plays a big part in my attraction to men. If a guy is wearing awesome sneakers or, you know, plaid, he becomes a little sexier in my eyes. On the flip side, frankly, black running sneakers and white socks? Major, major turnoff. But do other guys think this way or is Shah alone? Find out, after the jump… Keep reading »
If it weren’t for the covers of women’s magazines like Glamopolitan, my time standing in grocery lines would be spent reading the copy on my frozen dinners. It’s amazing how reading “succulent tenderloins cradled by fluffy mashed potatoes” makes a meal squeezed out of a nozzle and flash frozen taste that much better. It was standing in line with my pathetic pyramid of bachelor food that I learned that there are, like, 1,342 different ways to drive me wild.
And here I was, thinking there was only one, 100% guaranteed way to drive me wild, and that was to touch my penis. At this juncture, I’d like to state that I’m also speaking for all of dudekind. Sweeping gender platitudes is what I do. So take the ice cube out of your mouth, the feather out of my ass, and go for the gold. Is there a Nobel Prize for sex advice? I’d like to thank you all. Keep reading »
Groucho Marx once famously quipped “I don’t care to belong to a club that would have me as a member.” I sort of feel the same way about online dating sites. There has got to be a better way to meet people, people. Sadly, mental telepathy does not work. Unless you know what I was just thinking, in which case, e-mail me.
I’ve recently begun… researching popular dating sites. Not because I need a date. Ho, no, no, no. I don’t need a date. I’m up to my man boobs in hot lady action. There’s an 85% chance of boobs forecast in my love life. I am the Mayor of Vagtown. No, this research is for you, for all of you. It’s a testament to my generosity of spirit I waded through these interweb love sewers in order to impart some sort of wisdom. Here’s the wisdom: dating sites blow. Keep reading »