This week I was pulling together questions from men about the things they wonder about women. One of the questions was, “How quickly do you decide if you’re going to have sex with a guy?” I thought the question was an one that could easily be turned around on men. The question is not, “How quickly do you decide you want to have sex with a woman?” but “How quickly do you decide you are going to have sex with a woman?” If what the guys on our IM have said in the past is to be believed, if you are relatively attractive, every straight guy you know probably would sleep with you. But at what moment does he decide he’s actually going to try, and, for the especially confident, how quickly does he decide he will? Keep reading »
Tag Archives: what men think
Apparently, Brooke Shields lost her virginity at the positively spinsterly age of 22, and regrets not having gotten it over with earlier. When it comes to celebrity gossip, I’m on a blessed time delay. Normally, I’m too busy doing manly things like chopping down trees with my face, flamethrower-roasting suckling pigs, or seducing entire female soccer teams. But truly, this is momentous news, sorry I’m just getting around to it.
It should be of some solace to Brooke that there is no ideal way to lose one’s virginity. It is supposed to be awkward, because sex is awkward. Objectively speaking, it’s kind of funny. Clearly sex was invented by Morgan Freeman as a way to entertain bored angels. Think about it: sex is a lot of butt meat jiggling, legs in the air swaying back and forth like metronomes, and blush-worthy squishy noises. Shakespeare called sex “making the beast with two backs,” but it’s more like “making the squirming eight-limbed octopus that grunts.” The “O” in “O” face stands for “Oooh my gawd, is my grill turning itself inside out?”
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Most people like to think of themselves as good in bed. Sometimes, they can be very, very wrong. It’s pretty easy to spot a guy who’s crap in the sack — he jackhammers, he doesn’t hit any of the right spots, he’s like an octopus — but what do guys find so awful they’d consider a woman a bad lay? I mean, don’t they always get off? And if so, isn’t that pretty good? I went to the boys to find out. Shockingly enough, they answered this one readily, and they all agreed on one key thing: If you aren’t into it, they aren’t either. Keep reading »
Sometimes I think men get a raw deal. There are so many assumptions and rumors about what guys are attracted to and what they have sexual fantasies about — often perpetuated by magazines, websites, and books that speak to them (Men’s Health, I’m talking to you!). Ultimately, I think most of these are myths. For example, do men really have a virgin fantasy? Are they actually turned on by the idea of deflowering someone? I asked my guys on IM … Keep reading »
Oscar Wilde quipped, “Every woman grows up to be her mother: it is her curse. No man does, and that is his.” Men should aspire to the best of their parental units. No dig against fathers. But my mother’s example has made me a better man.
I’m not a momma’s boy, I’m just a man who loves his momma. I try and call once a week. We’re not all up in each other’s businesses, but we’ve got each other’s backs. We are each other’s biggest fans, and we both prefer our beer in bottles.
I like to think I’ve broken Wilde’s curse and grown up to be like her. Maybe I get points for the attempt. Some things you should know up front about Mrs. DeVore: She is a badass, an artist, and a very beautiful lady. She taught me the very basics that a mother should teach her son: how to cook, how to sew, and how to be gentlemen. Most importantly, she taught me to make the most of who you are because you are all you’ve got. Keep reading »
I went on a date the other week with a pair of hot Swedish volleyball players with galactic hoots and bodies so taut that quarters bounce off bellies. These buxom hotties could easily have graced the pages of Brodawg Magazine, posing in the rain, wearing only leather belts. As they were putting on their heels to join me in the champagne jacuzzi, it occurred to me that these phantasmagorical sirens weren’t doing it for me. Then I woke up with both of my arms in my pant legs. Cursed margaritas, so tequila-y and delicious. Keep reading »
Yesterday I wrote about a recent trend: More and more dates end in split checks. Several of my married female friends — and their husbands — were dismayed and shocked to hear about this, and so were some of you. Some believe that whoever does the asking should do the paying, while others think the guy should always pick up the check, at least for the first few dates. Recently, I went out with three guys in a row who didn’t pick up the check on the first date, and three is a trend, not a case of bad luck. So, I went to the guys on my IM to find out what the hell is going on. Turns out, I should be dating them. Keep reading »
If there’s one thing I’ve learned writing these columns, it’s that you ladies have penis on the brain. Which is why I’m going to admit that my penis is so huge, so gargantuan, that when I get excited, I barely have enough skin with which to whistle. Seriously. It’s like three grapefruits in a gym sock. Trash bags are my preferred prophylactic. I ain’t bragging or nothin’.
Does size really matter? How do you know your vagina isn’t all floppy? I knew a dude once who described sleeping with a woman as “driving a hatchback through the Lincoln Tunnel.” I am convinced y’all make so much of a fuss about size as a passive-aggressive way to get back at dudes who you perceive as judging you solely by your boobs, waist, and butt. But when it comes to sex, good sex, bite-mark-on-the-shoulder sex, we are the sum of our physical, and emotional, parts. Otherwise, you’re not having sex. You’re just slapping bits. Keep reading »