A Note On Playing It Safe: The Frisky thinks safe sex is smart sex – so please practice it in the way that’s right for your relationship.
So, NPR posted a story saying that condom-less sex is the new engagement ring, because going bareback shows the same or similar kind of intimacy and trust and commitment that traditional marriage does. I see their point, though the man-friend and I dropped the connies well before we got engaged — but only when we’d agreed to be monogamous and had done the all important STD-tests etc. Over at fellow lady blog Jezebel, outgoing Features Editor Moe says about sex without a condom:
“…here is the irrefutable: it feels awesome. Maybe that is because I have only really engaged in bareback sex with the types of dudes who don’t fear HPV and whose diseases I don’t particularly fear, because the worst thing I can think of about most of them is the ensuing lifetime of awkward conversations…”
In other words, sex with condoms sucks, the worst that could happen to me if I go without condoms with a dude is maybe I could get pregnant or get HPV or “diseases I don’t particularly fear” and of having those diseases, the worst part is having awkward conversations with future sex partners. There is so much that is ridiculous about that statement, but I’m not in the business of ripping people apart for their personal sexual choices.
Keep reading »
It’s an exciting week! We’ve got not one but two new additions to the “Guys On Our IM” roster (including one of our boys at AskMen.com), each desperate to wow your lady skulls with their revelations on the male psyche, sex drive, and beating heart. This week, I broke ‘em in hard, asking them to confess how they really feel when they aren’t able to make a sexual partner climax. Depressed? Suicidal? Meh? Sadistically happy? Find out, after the jump! Keep reading »
In yesterday’s post about the 30 things women love that men don’t understand, I listed “sexless cotton brief underwear” at number 11. Those are my favorite kinds of lingerie — in cute, fun prints, yes, but cotton, usually paired with a bright, cotton bra with about as much sex appeal as Rainbow Bright. I’ve got some “sexier” lingerie, I suppose, including this lacy bra thingy I bought on The Frisky’s big bra fitting trip earlier this year that has ribbons cascading from it that I save for special occasions (special occasions I won’t be having for another three months, at least). Anyway, my ex never seemed to really notice my undergarments which was great when I was wearing some holey, period-stained thong, but kind of was a bummer when I took the time to match and traded in cotton for lace. But I’ve heard similar complaints from other women — do dudes really give a crap whether the women they’re about to make sweet love to is wearing practical panties from The Gap or a sheer lace booty boy short from La Perla? And if not, why the hell are places that charge $50 for a tiny scrap of fabric still in business? I interrogate the guys on my IM about their lingerie preferences, after the jump… Keep reading »
Before I reveal the secret reason men love strip clubs, I’d like to directly address all the “cool” and “open-minded” women out there who insist on accompanying their boyfriends and husbands to jiggle joints: stay home. I appreciate your enlightened attitude towards dude culture, and your bad girl enthusiasm, like when you whoop it up with a stripper, publicly dabbling in hetero-flexibility for your man. But really, you’re not declaring yourself a pansexual pioneer, proving how laid-back and awesome you are to your man’s salivating bro-dawgs. You’re keeping tabs on your boyfriend or husband and you know it.
So why is it that guys love strip clubs — even guys who totally xoxo their rock star girlfriends? There’s the obvious answer: to look at nekkid boobs that aren’t the boobs attached to the rock star girlfriends they totally xoxo. Keep reading »
The other day, one of the Guys On My IM told me, “Guys want to bang a model, a stripper, a famous chick, and maybe a flight attendant before getting hitched.” I’ve heard such sentiments before, though not from any guy I truly respected (I actually respect this particular guy, despite his pre-marriage hump list). Given how many guys go to strip clubs and get all google-y eyed for Gisele Bundchen, couldn’t this general statement apply not only to the men I know and love, but also most guys, period? I decided to ask the rest of the Guys On My IM for their opinions — and while it turns out that none of them have a strong desire to schtup a pole dancer, they all do have SOME sort of ideal bedpost notch list…. Keep reading »
Happy (belated) Thanksgiving, y’all. Normally, this holiday is a gluttonous orgy of excess, where we hit the gravy bong and chug obscene amounts of food directly into our greasy talkholes. It’s also a time to give thanks for not having to awkwardly hang out with extended family for the rest of the year. Keep reading »
This weekend, when I was in Atlantic City, one of my fellow ragers asked me if she could borrow my tweezers so she could pluck a nipple hair. A nipple hair? She had nipple hair? “Yeah, don’t you?” I honestly didn’t know. She also said she waxed above her lip. Crap, I’ve never waxed my lip. Have I been walking around with a ‘stache for years and no one has ever told me and that’s why I can’t get a rebound to save my life right now?!
On last nights episode of “The Hills” the female ‘stache came back to haunt me — Lauren Conrad had a very obvious dusting of facial fuzz about her lip. If Lauren Conrad has a mustache I must have it too. This morning, the grooming obsession continued when I discovered a horrendous ingrown hair bump, um, you know where. Eww. Maybe I should start listening to the lady mags and actually wax from now on. Especially since I am about to jump back into the dating pool — with that in mind, I decided to ask the dudes on my IM about what they look for, grooming-wise, in a bed mate. I didn’t tell them about my ingrown hair though. I’m hoping it’s gone by the time I sleep with any of them. Keep reading »
A certain woman in my life wants to know what guys are thinking when a breakup goes down. So here it goes. We think about beer. And drinking it. And how drinking said beer will help us get lucky with the la-a-dies. The ladies with the righteous hoots.
Alright, fine. That was a sweeping gender generalization. A crude, cheap oversimplification of the masculine condition… But that doesn’t stop it from being true. Keep reading »
Hi, I’m single. Like, what’s up with that? Word. Can I buy you a vodka tonic, super fox?
Okay – let me interrupt for a second, and preempt our regularly scheduled programming to get some things off my hairy, muscular, barrel chest. I’m guessing you heard that the guy with the lizard neck lost the presidential election to the guy with the lady fingers, right? So…
I normally make a conscious choice to reject the idea of identity politics, which is to say, to gravitate towards politicians who are just like me, either ideologically, or, on a more base level, culturally. I am instantly distrustful of politicians who tell me they drink beer just like me, or listen to the music I listen to, or who suggest that I vote for them because their biological fortunes confer an expertise others cannot possibly claim. These notions are nothing more than cheap, aspirational lies. Keep reading »
Women typically date their own age or older, whereas guys typically date their own age or younger — I suppose this is because women mature faster than men, but once you’ve reached full on adulthood, certainly maturity evens out somewhat. With that in mind, I decided to find out what their rules are when it comes to dating older or younger women. Their answers may surprise you. I even got tingly. Keep reading »