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Sunday, August 28, 2011

The Female Sex Drive and Viagra for Women

Ever since the breakthrough that brought many men’s sex lives back to life, women have been asking, “Where’s my magic blue pill?”  In response, researchers at pharmaceutical companies have spent the past decade trying to find the magic formula to end their sexual dysfunction and improve sexual desire, arousal and satisfaction in women. 
There are now all sorts of products on the market targeting these women, but the FDA still has not approved the female “Viagra” equivalent.  Why?  Because with men, it’s a physical issue.  Rub a man’s penis, the blood flow increases, the penis enlarges and it gets hard.  Rub it long enough, and ejaculation occurs.  It’s a simple matter.  Women…not so simple.
Women have different plumbing all around, and different stimulants that make that plumbing flow!  Unless you can create a pill that not only increases the blood flow and libido, but also improves hormonal balance, intensifies sexual stimulation and orgasm, AND makes the men we’d be making love to more attentive and apt to care whether or not we’re getting what we want and need while we’re having sex, there just isn’t going to be a magic-fix-all pill.  I mean, if they could come up with a pill that makes you grow a mini man to make love to yourself, including the foreplay that mentally stimulates a women, they might be on to something!  However, I have a strong feeling the men in our lives would strongly object.
Let’s face it.  Jeff Foxworthy was on to something when he said men were simple creatures…they want a beer and wanna see something naked.  Men are visual creatures, and tend to be aroused by what they SEE.  Just watch a man’s reaction to a good looking woman in a low cut top.  Women are mentally and physically stimulated.  We tend to be aroused by what we FEEL.  Not just feel with our bodies, but feel with our minds, and the two are inseparably linked.  We need the emotional connection, to feel like we’re being pampered, adored or loved by our partners.  When we feel that intellectual/emotional stimulation, the physical stimulation is heightened and the desire, arousal and intensity is increased.  A little attention with a woman goes a long way in increasing libido and sex drive.  There’s no pill for that.
However, I think I’ve got the answer for the women who suffer from merely lack of arousal.  Find the hormone in 30-40 something year old women who are in their sexual peak, mass produce and prescribe it to women with sexual dysfunction, and gone is the lack of libido.  I know this from personal experience.   No amount of attention, drug, tequila, or any other substance known to mankind could come close to the increase in libido brought on by this surge of hormones rushing through the body of a woman in her peak.  I once told a friend, I completely understand why dogs in heat rubbed their butts on fence posts.  As a single woman, waking up in the middle of the night without a sexual outlet can be positively maddening.  I’m sure pharmaceutical companies would have no shortage of women willing to donate some of their surging hormones for those less fortunate.   I’ll be the first one!

Friday, August 26, 2011

Emotionally Unavailable Men

With the divorce rate so high, there is a higher number than ever of 30-40 something divorcees, all in the pursuit of love, in one form or another.  The need for skin to skin contact, and emotional intimacy keeps me in the pursuit of love.  What I have found repeatedly along my journey is the emotionally unavailable man.  He comes from a variety of social and economic backgrounds; from law enforcement, to professionals, from white collared to blue, from ugly and fat to fit and good-looking, but make no mistake, he is the same man, just wearing a different disguise and set of circumstances.
The “woe is me, I’ve been hurt so I won’t risk it wall”, that is so impenetrable; has been skillfully and painstakingly crafted over years of failed marriages and relationships, abandoned dreams, and disappointments, make finding a functional relationship almost impossible. 
Another thing that just kills me about this emotionally available man, is a hobby they all seem to share.  Video Games.  The “lets tune out the real world that’s hurt me so, and zone into my fantasy world where I am all powerful and people (the other emotionally stunted individuals playing the same game for the same reasons) respect and admire my skills” mentality.  This becomes an addiction or an obsession, and the real people in their lives can’t compete to the fantasy world to which they escape.  Women, beware of this man, as you could rub your boobs all over his face and offer all sorts of sexual favors, resulting only in getting him irritated that you are obstructing his view! 
Then there’s the man that must always have his buddies/playmates around.  No private conversation will ever be private because you’re NEVER alone.  He lives so fast that you’ve got to constantly be on the chase if you hope to catch up.  Forget a thriving sex life with this man…heaven forbid he’d have to separate from his buddies long enough to play with you.
This has me thinking.  I need to create a self help manual for these emotionally unavailable men.  I’d break it down into sections as follows:
1.       At our age, in the singles market, we’ve ALL been hurt and had our hearts yanked from our chest and jammed up our asshole.  If you’re not married to your soul mate, and you’ve never had your heart broken it’s for one of two reasons.  You’re either a complete prick that breaks the hearts of those who love you, or you’re a narcissistic bastard…either way…next.
2.       I’m not the one that hurt you (if I did, I’m probably sorry about it), and I don’t deserve to be punished because some other woman did you wrong.
3.       Life goes on.  Get the hell over it and move on. 
4.       Contrary to what you seem to believe, you do not look sexy with that big head set on your head, and killing the enemy using your thumb and forefinger on a remote control doesn’t make you look like a God to the woman who’s being forced to watch you.
5.       If you can’t separate from your buddies long enough to get laid, have you considered I might not have the equipment you REALLY want?  Maybe it’s time you re-explore your sexuality!
I think it would be a best seller.  I’d be the next Opra (OK…maybe that’s stretching it a little).  Maybe a little more Chelsea Handler, but with better hair.  I’ll get to work on that tomorrow…tonight, it’s girls night.

Jumping In Taxi's With Midget Strangers. Reposted in Honor of Cowboy.

I love to laugh at the stupid things I do, but this time, I'm laughing at someone close to me (with permission of course).  A female friend and I were out on the town.  There was pool, dancing, and of course, tequila!  She had been out since fairly early, and I met up with her later in the evening.  By the time I got there, she could have done a bud light commercial with the "I love you, man" attitude.  She met me at the door and practically dragged me across the club and over to the bar, where she was sitting with a group.  I had talked to her on the phone and she had told me that there was the sexiest guy there and I had to come and see him.  It wasn't until I saw him that I realized just how intoxicated she was!  He was some sort of middle eastern man in serious need of a shave.  He looked like he probably groomed his face with a pair of dull school scissors, and had never even seen a razor, with scraggly hair coming out of a baseball cap.  I was WAY too sober for that so I needed to do some catching up, and quick! 
I ordered a drink and set off to see who was there that I needed to say hello to.  After making a couple rounds and exchanging pleasantries with the familiar faces, I ordered another drink and headed back to my friend.  Another male friend of mine was there and we asked him to join her and I, as well as Mr. NOT sexy for a game of teams pool.  However, all the pool tables were full so we had to put some quarters on a table and wait.  Luckily for my female friend, there was a pretty good looking man playing at a table and she got to play him when he won.  Mr. NOT sexy soon faded into the background for a more appropriate target. 
The rest of the night went pretty well and we had a lot of fun.  I was talking with a couple of the band members just before getting ready to leave when I noticed that my friend was nowhere in site.  I began looking for her, and found my male friend coming in from outside.  When I asked him if he'd seen her, he told me that she just left in a cab with some guy...but not Mr. NOT sexy nor Mr. pretty good looking.  I was baffled, and she didn't have her cell phone.  Not having a clue where she went or who she went with, I had no choice but to head home without her.  Because my car got too drunk to drive, I got a ride to my house with the promise that he'd come back and get me the next morning to pick it up.  I missed a phone call at about 4:30 this morning and when I attempted to call back the number, I got the front desk of a hotel.  At least I knew where she was, but not knowing who she was with meant I couldn't find her.
When I finally did see my friend this morning, she had bruises all over and a HUGE hicky on her neck (actually more like her jawbone).  I asked who she left with and she said, "I didn't have a clue.  I thought you and I were leaving, walked out, saw a cab, and assumed it was there for us!  It didn't occur to me that I hadn't called a cab or that you weren't with me until about 4 this morning, and then I didn't have a clue where I was or who I was with, only that he could f*** like a mad man!"  She then commented on the bruises and said "sometimes lovin don't feel like it should, oh baby...hurts so good" and that she finally understood that song.  I tell you all this because it leads up to the funny part.  A little while later, my male friend comes to get me and take me to my car, and she rides with us.  We are all cutting up about where she went, how she got there and her extremely large jawbone hicky, as well as how she had to ask him what his name was this morning.  We get to talking about me looking for her and him telling me that she got into a taxi with a guy.  She says "I guess once I start drinking I just think the whole world should cater to me.  I was ready to leave, I walked outside, and there was a taxi...just for me."  I said, "it even came with party favors!"  My female friend was surprised my male friend had seen her leave, and that's when he drops the best part.  He says "Yea, I saw you leave with that five foot nothing midget!"  Now my female friend is the same height as me.  We are both borderline amazonian height women, and if you've read my blog, Size Matters, you will completely understand why I laughed so hard that I thought I was going to pee on myself.  So we spent the rest of the ride with the two of them negotiating between whether her party favor the night before was 5'0 or more like 5'6.  They finally compromised somewhere around 5'4 or 5'5. I could do nothing but laugh and blink the tears out of my eyes! 
Even funnier is that my friend has a 4 year old daughter who is obsessed with midgets, and will sometimes, out of the blue say, "Mama...I love midgets".  So after we get the car and get back to my house, while examining her bruised up self, her daughter hears us saying something about midgets and excitedly says "I LOVE midgets!!!" to which my friend looks at me and says "After last night, so do I!"  I guess tequila helped another 2 and 10 become a 10 and 2!

Friday, August 12, 2011

Gotta Love It!

I absolutely love this new era of social networking.  How else could you, with one click of a button, get into so many people’s business, start problems in existing relationships, begin new ones, and have disputes that are more public than if they’d been had in the courthouse square?  Don’t like someone…want someone else not to like someone?  Post it on Facebook and within minutes, everyone knows why.  Gone are the days when you had to worry about getting punched in the jaw for what you said about someone, no matter how malicious or untrue what you say is.  They’d have to find you first.  So go ahead, light the drama torch!  Flirt with your best friend’s husband or your husband’s best friend…tired of your man, start fishing for someone else’s!  I mean, what are they gonna do…send you a threatening e-mail?

Saturday, August 6, 2011

The Quarterback's Bitch...A Sports Commentary.

I absolutely love spending time with intelligent people who are good conversationalists.  Last night, I was blessed to be around two such fabulous individuals.  I was at a good friends house visiting, when one of his friends came over.  We were having great conversation on a lot of different topics, so I'm really not sure how this topic came up, but I knew as soon as the question was asked, that I'd be writing about it today.
Both these men are really big guys, well over six feet tall.  The subject of football came up and my good friend asks my new friend, "Man, if you had a son, would you want him being a center?"  I must admit, I wasn't sure which position he was talking about when my new friend answered, "Hell, no!"  Then they proceeded to talk about how the center is bent over every play while the quarterback reaches his hands between the center's legs.  The only thing separating the quarterback's hands from the center's nuts being the cup he wears.  I am saying this very tamely, as it was a very animated discussion with my good friend making demonstrative gestures to further his point.  I then piped in and said, "If I ever decide to play football and the quarterback is good looking, that's the position I'd want to play!"  That's when it hit me...the center is the quarterback's bitch!
We were rolling laughing at this crude thought, when my new friend suddenly got serious and says, "You know, man...I've NEVER even thought about that, but you're right.  I'd want my son being a head hunter, not having some man behind him rubbing his balls every play!"  As you can well imagine, especially those of you who know me personally---I was blinking back tears, I was laughing so hard!
This discussion went on for a while, and then went to even greater depths and I had to ask my new friend, who is a black man in his late 20s, if it would be worse if the quarterback was white.  At first, he denied it (with overted eyes), saying that it wouldn't matter, but when my good friend called him on it, he reluctantly agreed that if his strapping son had some weasley little white quarterback bent over him, sticking his hands between his legs..."Hell, yea, that would be worse!"
The funny twist to this story is that the center calls plays and is often the brains of the operation...further proof that the center is the quarterback's bitch!  Us bitches usually do have the brains!
DISCLAIMER:   I understand that the center is a vital and important position that requires skill and intelligence.  I also understand that I am probably offending at least one player on every football team.  However, rather than getting your panties in a wrinkle, wear your new bitch title with pride and say, "Thank you for noticing!" (Then ask for a HUGE raise or to switch positions.)  Personally, I envy the centers and am thinking of trying out for the San Diego Chargers if it would mean that I'd get to have Phillip Rivers between my legs!

Boob Jobs

In an attempt to be glamorous and beautiful in a society that holds up super models and actresses that don't even look real as the standard, women have become obsessed with fad diets, spa treatments, artificial hair color and plastic surgery.  One of the most popular body sculpting surgeries for women my age is breast implants or "boob jobs".  Me personally...I'm all natural, baby!  However, I know many women who've had them.  Two of my best friends in California had boob jobs many years ago, and it really helped them with their self-esteem.  What kills me, though, is when a man buys a woman a pair of boobs, and then gets upset because she wants to show them off.  Hell, when I got my belly button pierced, I wanted to show everyone.  If I paid thousands of dollars for a pair of beautiful new boobs after being flat chested all my life...damn straight I'd be showing those puppies off!  Give a girl a new pair of boobs and a couple shots of tequila...sorry guys...but the shirt is coming up and everyone will be admiring the doctor's handy work.
When discussing this subject with a friend, I was reminded of a funny incident that took place last year.  I went and spent two weeks visiting my friends and family in San Diego.  I stayed with one of my large breasted friends, and one evening we compared boobs...size, texture, asthetic appeal, etc.  She had her implants above the muscle.  Our other friend had hers under the muscle, so we had to compare hers too.  Normal girl stuff.  It was a regular boob fest!  I found myself wondering if men sit around comparing each other's penis'.  "That's a mighty fine penis, Fred.  Too bad it doesn't have a slight curve upward like mine...women really dig the curvature man! Check it out."
Later that night, we all went out on the town.  (There are pictures of this night out on my profile.)  We have our high school foursome back together for the first time in many years...and we were looking for trouble!  Two of them are married and two of us are single, but the husbands have been around since high school and were smart enough to just sit back and enjoy the ride.  It was like we were teenagers all over again.  We talked about the crazy days of our youth, the crazier days of recent years, and had a great time.  Tequila was pouring, and as the night went on, we all were feeling no pain!  By the time we were headed back home, the girl I was staying with was beyond drunk and began talking about how much she loved her "fucking faggot" husband.  She went on to say that the best thing about being married to someone for so long is that you can call him a "fucking faggot" and him know she was kidding and not get mad.  She must have called him that 50 times during the ride home, before passing out.  I knew that she would remember nothing of it.
The next morning, or should I say afternoon, by the time she rolled out of bed with a serious hangover, her husband and I decided to have a little fun with her.  I started walking around the house, calling her husband a "fucking faggot" intead of his name.  She heard this a couple times before asking me why I kept calling him such a name.  I said, "You don't remember?"  She was clueless and didn't even remember leaving the bar.  Even better for me!  I looked at her husband, winked, and said, "You mean you don't remember flashing your boobs to the bartender for a free drink at last call?"  Her answer was priceless...not a "No I didn't", or "I wouldn't do that"...but instead, she responds by squeezing her eyes shut and slumping her shoulders, saying "Oh, no!  I'm not supposed to do that.  Now I'm going to be in trouble, and am gonna have to give him [her husband] a blow job!" 
Moral of the story...don't buy your woman a pair of new boobs if you don't want everyone to see them!

If You Have An Erection Lasting More Than 4 Hours

There are so many products on the market for erectile dysfunction and male enhancement.  Viagra, Cialis, and Levitra seem to be the leaders in helping the man with a not so stiff stiffy, feel like a steel rod again.  Then you've got the medications geared toward helping the man with a micropenis hear something other than, "is it in yet?"  For male enhancement, the top 5 choices, as reported and reviewed on are 1) SizePro, 2) VigRx Plus, 3) ProSolution, 4) Volumn Pills, and 5) Maxaman.  Who comes up with these names?
SizePro claims that it will increase erection size up to thirty percent and improve hardness instantly.  VigRx claims that their product is "designed to give the largest and longest lasting erection". ProSolution claims that it will give you stronger erections and a boosted libido. Volumn Pills says only, "provides great sexual performance and pleasure" and "it has been proven very effective, and it will be effective for you". Maxaman, on the other hand says, "Maxaman will make your penis gain both in length and girth. With use, new erectile tissue is developed, leading to a permanent gain. Maxaman can lead to up to a 6 inch growth in penis length. The advances made by Maxaman have made this growth irreversible.
What I want to know is can you mix them?  I mean, what if I want a man with the longest lasting erection, a boosted libido and a 6 inch growth in penis length?  I'll take VigRx, ProSolution and Maxaman please!  I mean, we take different medications for different types of pain...what about taking different medications for different types of pleasure?  Surely the biggest penis and longest lasting erection in the world wouldn't do us women any good if the man is like, "No thanks...I've got a headache."  So surely we want increased libido with the increased penis size and longer lasting erection.  I also want to know who tests these products?  Do they post adds in the classifieds? 
Help Wanted...testers needed for study on penis functionality and enhancement for experimental medication.  If you do not have a partner, one will be provided for you.  Must be willing to be observed and studied by team of doctor's and scientists.  If your partner is good looking, must be willing to allow her to participate with others in the study.  If your partner is not good looking, you will be separated so as not to negatively effect the study, and we will make a special project out of you! 
I mean, really?  And then, who signs up?  I want to know how it has been "proven effective"?  Is it because they give it to some guy and ask him to fill out a survey...maybe give one to his partner?  What kind of scientific proof would that be?  I want hard evidence...pardon the pun!
Then there is my absolute favorite warning on television your doctor if you have an errection lasting for than four hours.  Well, duh!  And your mother, father, grandmother, best friend, dentist, neighbor and all your old girlfriends!  I could just see some college student calling all his frat brothers, "Hey man, come check this shit out!"  Honestly...that seems like a challenge to young guys to use the drug recreationally. Hahaha...I guess the whole point of the drug is recreational, but I mean without having erectile disfunction. 
I really wish they'd come up with a pill, while they are at it, that would instantly make a man know how to use his regenerated, or enhanced penis.  That way, when us women meet the perfect man, who ends up having a limp micropenis, we fix it with a Viagra and Maxaman, and then give him InstaRomeo and BAM!!! He's a keeper!
As for the, "if you have an erection lasting more than four hours...", hell, after you call your doctor...Call Me!

Friday, August 5, 2011

Size Matters

I have heard phrases like "size doesn't matter", "quality not quantity", "it's not the size of the boat, but the motion of the ocean", etc., etc.  However...I'm here to tell you, size matters!  In all things, size matters.  If you're hungry, do you want a little Crystal burger, or do you want a Whopper?  If it's cold, do you want a thin jacket or a thick down jacket?  Same goes for body types.  I am 5'7".  Not a small woman.  My normal weight (yes, guys, I'm actually going to tell it) is between 145 and 150.  When I wear a pair of conservative heels, I stand 5'10", and I like to wear heels.  Why do I tell you all this?  Because, no matter how bluntly I say it, I can not seem to make men understand that if I'm taller than them, or weigh almost as much or more than them, I am just not attracted to them, no matter how handsome or easy on the eyes they are.  So let's evalute size and how it matters.

Look at the women you see on TV.  The supermodels and the movie stars.  Most of the women that are considered hot and sexy, or beautiful.  How many men look at a 250 lb woman and think, "Wow...I'd like to take her home with me tonight."  Even if the woman is pretty and a great person, the weight is still an issue.  Weight is size, and size matters.  Bust size--Some men like small breasted women, some prefer large...but once again, size matters.  Butts are another area of attraction.  I've seen some of the most beautiful woman have self esteem issues because they have a big butt, or lack much butt at all.  I've heard men say, "she'd be hot if her butt wasn't so big" or "she's got great legs, but no butt"...once again, size matters. 

One thing I've always found funny is the common sight of an obese woman with a bone skinny man.  I've found myself wondering how that works.  Maybe what they say about skinny men having extremely large unmentionables is correct and it takes that extremely large unmentionable to reach past the obesity.  I hope I'll never know for sure.  I also can't help but notice when a 6'5" man is dancing with a 5' nothing woman, and wonder how they fit together...I guess they don't like kissing during sex.  Same goes for the very tall woman and the extremely short man.  Black men with white women, and the opposite.  All of these are oddities to me, but to each their own.

Me personally, I prefer a man with a little extra meat on his bones, to one who is all bones.  I like my men big...not obese, but not thin.  I like them white.  I like to feel like he could carry me if I was hurt, or sweep me off my feet in a moment of passion (and I've already stated, I'm not a little woman).  I'm sorry, but I don't want to feel like I could carry him to the bedroom!  Size matters.  Speaking of the bedroom.  If I was about to be intimate with a man and he unveiled something that looked like it should be attached to an elephant instead of a man, I'd envision my organs falling out when I got up afterwards, and I'd run fast.  However, if my first thought is that a toddler would wear it better and it should be covered up with a diaper, it isn't going to work for me. Size matters.  Good "motion of the ocean", and a willingness to compensate for the insufficiency can only go so far, because without the right tools, you just can't do the job right...sorry, guys...SIZE MATTERS!

What I find to be very funny about this virtual world we live in where we meet people first online, and then progress to personal relationships, is how exaggerated people's stats are.  Almost every man online is 6', and they all have 8" penis'.  No wonder women's sense of measurement and depth perceptions are so off!  When we meet these guys and they are only 5'8" with a 3" penis, we're all confused!  I guess everything is bigger in internet inches!  Once again...size matters.

So, this should be my personals add:  I'm looking for a genuine, honest man, with a good heart, who knows how to treat a lady.  Must enjoy the outdoors, but like nights on the town too.  Must love children, as my children are part of the package.  He must be hardworking, dependable, loyal and faithful to the ones he loves.  Must believe in God and be willing to attend church with me at least occasionally.  Must be affectionate and give great back rubs.  Must be over 5'10" in actual measurements and not internet inches, and be reasonably well endowed. Must be a gentleman in the daytime and and an animal at night. If you meet all the above requirements and are under 190 lbs...gain some weight!  SIZE MATTERS!

Sharp-Toothed Snail

Inside everybody's nose
There lives a sharp-toothed snail.
So if you stick your finger in,
He may bite off your nail.
Stick it farther up inside,
And he may bite off your ring.
Stick it all the way, and he
May bite off the whole darn thing.

A poem from: Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

As a child, this was one of my favorite books.  It is a collection of children's poems, and I have often used this book for great examples to my kids.  The above poem has been recited to many children over the years to get them to quit picking their noses and I've had a few really funny responses from small children.  One of the funniest was my nephew.  When he was three or four, I caught him picking his nose and told him this tale in a very serious voice.  At first, he quietly pondered my words, but only minutes later, he was digging vigorously!  I said, "What are you doing?  You want that snail to bite your finger?"  Without missing a beat, he excitedly replied, "No, Auntie...I'm gonna catch 'em!"

I now have my three nieces, ages 2, 4, and 6, staying in my house in addition to my two children.  Due to their young ages, this poem has once again been brought out of my arsonal.  Today, however, it wasn't a finger that got put up a child's nose.  Out walks my 2 year old niece, whining, picking her nose and her mother discovers that she has a lot more than bugers up there...she has a cherry seed...crammed up and stuck!  What the hell?  I mean, seems like a logical place to store it, right?  Before finally giving up and taking her to the hospital to have a "foreign body extraction", my sister and I try tweezers, blowing it out with a nebulizer hose up the other nostril, squeezing and working it down...all to no avail!  The only success we had was in stressing out the mother and getting the child hysterical.

My sister was sick so I get my niece and son, and head to the hospital.  As usual, we wait for an ungodly amount of time before getting taken back to a room to wait even longer to see a doctor.  My niece no longer appeared bothered by the obstructed nasal passage as she and my son played together while we waited...and waited...and waited.  The doctor comes in, finally, takes a look and decides to try the super glue on a q-tip trick (parents don't try this at home or they may be removing the q-tip and the seed).  When he leaves the room to go get the necessary tools, I look at my son and say, "I can't believe that she got a cherry seed stuck in her nose.  Who does that?" To which my son, pricelessly replies, "Maybe she was trying to feed the Sharp-Toothed Snail!"  I laughed so hard that it was contagious.  Pretty soon, the two year old is laughing hard, and BAM!!! The seed shoots out of her nose, makes a loud pinking sound as it hits the metal surgical tray, then falls to the floor.  We all were laughing so hard we could barely catch our breath.  The doctor comes in looking at us like we belong in a mental ward, not an emergency room and we're  all laughing to hard to tell him what happened.  All I could do was point to the seed as I gasped for breath and wiped the tears from my eyes.

I guess the Sharp-Toothed Snail prefers fingers to cherry seeds.