September 9, 2014 § 7 Comments
I am a feminist. I support any and all efforts to create a society where the social, political and economic rights of women are equal to that of men. The reason I start with that declaration is because I could see how a woman expecting a man to purchase the first round of beverages could be interpreted as a bit sexist. And in a way it is, but in another way I don’t give a shit.
Also, I think it’s important to recognize feminism can come in many different forms, which is why I promise to revisit my stance on this subject once the 30% pay gap is closed.
Some men may be hesitant to buy a lady a drink. Maybe they think thirsty bitches (their words not mine) will take them for everything they got, one pinot grigio at a time. Usually these are the same men who use a woman’s every move as an excuse to talk to her. Call me old fashioned, but I’d be much more likely to talk to a fella who bought me a drink. Call me old fashioned, but I’d judge the fuck out of one who didn’t. Maybe that’s just me?
Anywho let’s get started:
#1 Googly Eyes
Googly eyes is when you hold the gaze of your selected dude a moment longer than the socially accepted standard. I’m sure the majority of you are now eye rolling like you’re stuck in gif purgatory. Well, duh right? It seems like a total no-brainer but, like a lot of things in life, timing is key. To demonstrate the perfect amount of time I’m going to use a visual metaphor, because that’s how my mind works, like an illiterate child’s.
Imagine you are hiking, and you approach a field of wildflowers. There in the close distance you spot the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen, a young fawn. It senses your presence. Its head pops up. Its eyes focus on yours, long enough for one exhale, long enough for your souls to merge. You blink and you’re back in the bar. Your fawn is now a girl. She smiles. She turns back to her friends.*
#1 Section 2 – The Bar is a Safe Place
What if you gave him the perfect amount of googly eyes and he’s still not approaching? Well there may be a few variables working against you. Are you in a co-ed group? Are there any girls with resting bitch face? If your male of choice is introverted, these factors may give him room for pause. Which means you’re going to have to lure him to the bar. The bar is a safe place. In order to do this you must slam your drink, separate yourself from the group and head to the bar, and while en route you give him a look.
And now we wait…
Ninety-eight percent of the time your selected dude will just happen to also need a refill and will just happen to saddle up right next to you at the bar. Oh hai, fancy meeting you here.
The two percent that don’t respond to this move are either not interested in females or taken. And it doesn’t matter if that’s true or not as long as you believe it. That’s the beauty of delusion.
#2 Fake Bachelorette Party
Give a group of women the license to ‘let loose’ and you will get a drunken tidal wave of the horniest, sloppiest, screechiest girls imaginable. But you don’t have to wait for an actual bachelorette party to enjoy a penis-themed night of semi-questionable decisions.
How to throw a fake bachelorette party:
You’ll need a group of girls, a boa and/or tiara, and of course some penis-shaped items. Then choose your bachelorette. I suggest switching off. Because here’s a fun fact – guys want what they can’t have (what?? groundbreaking isn’t it??!) which means the “bachelorette” will get hit on ten times more than everyone else. Regardless of who is playing the part. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, people.
Now all other party participants choose an alias and make up an awesome backstory. You can be whoever you want. Why? Cause bullshitting strangers is fun! Although I’d avoid accents. Once you get drunk it’s hard to maintain consistency.
- Pros: no lines for you, lots of free shots, role playing awesomeness
- Cons: too many free shots
#3 Let’s Make a Deal
You’re at the bar. The bartender is busy. Everyone impatiently tries to get his/her attention. You and the dude next to you share a ‘god-this-is-so annoying’ look. You say, ‘Hey dude, let’s make a deal. You get his attention first, put in an order for me. If I get his attention I’ll put in your order.” Now you simply avoid eye contact with the bartender. Dude orders for you. You offer dude money. Dude says no cause his mama raised him right. Awww, that is so nice and totally unexpected. Thanks dude friend.
#4 I’ve Never Had That
You overhear a dude’s order. It sounds delicious. You say, ‘Is that good? I’ve never had that.’ Dude can’t believe you’ve never had (drink you’ve totally had). Dude insist he get you one. Dude says, ‘bartender make it two’. Awww, that is so nice and totally unexpected. Thanks dude friend.
#5 Game on bitch
Challenge him. Guys are competitive by nature. If there is a game nearby, most likely it’ll be darts. Approach him and say, “Hey, you up for a game? Loser buys drinks.” Then you just have to win. I kid, I kid, you don’t have to win. 90% of dudes are chivalrous enough to insist on purchasing the round regardless of the outcome. The other 10% are too short sighted to see the big picture win.
#6 Seem Really Bored
Guys love to swoop in and rescue a bored lil’ lady.
#7 Have Fun
Guys love to swoop in on a super fun lady.
#8 You Approach Him
I know, I know. Guys love a chase. Guys love girls who never give them the satisfaction of knowing they’ve been caught. I know that shit works but I also know it’s exhausting.
Which is why I’m a much bigger fan of the approach him method. There is a special power in not giving a shit. In walking straight up to a dude, tapping him on the shoulder and saying, ‘excuse me sir but I really like your face and well…buy me a drink or lose me forever.’
99.9983% of the time, that works every time. I picked up my dude in this very fashion which is why whenever he says something along the lines of ‘you are a crazy person,’ I retort with, ‘AH-DOYYY, pretty sure you knew that when you met me.’
But if that’s not your style then here are some more subtle approaches:
Ask for his expert opinion: Cheesy and transparent when guys use this approach but roles reversed, extremely effective. Guys are natural problem solvers, it plays to their ego. Start in with something like, ‘I’m sorry, this is so dumb, but my friend and I are having an argument and you look like someone who might know something about (insert anything this dude could have an opinion about).
Compliment him: Girls are constantly on the defense about compliments because they are used to getting hit on. Guys on the other hand are usually genuinely flattered. ‘Hi. You are very handsome.’ Thatsssss it.
Fall for him: Or rather into him. This is a total grade school move, but by god if it doesn’t work. Your friend pushes you, you trip, you accidentally hit him with your purse, any of those things. And then you’re like, ‘oh no, I’m so sorry. Are you ok? Did I spill on you? Bee-tee-dubs I’m Jamie.‘
Drop something: Yup, I said it. Go ahead and pull the most classic and utterly offensive of all female tropes – the damsel in distress. “Whoopsies, I dropped my purse. Oh no, it spilt everywhere. What’s a girl to do?” I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t put this out there in the world if it weren’t so astonishingly effective.
Say pretty much anything: Unless you say something horrifyingly creepy, what you say upon approaching really doesn’t matter that much. You have a vagina, remember? Here’s an example, ‘Excuse me, do you have a cat?‘ No, why? ‘Cause I’m allergic to cats so that would be a deal breaker. Hi, I’m Jamie.”
End of Lesson One
In all honesty, I feel real shitty about writing this post. Not only do I feel like I just set feminism back fifty years but these games we play with the opposite sex, although very very fun, they’re kind of assholey. But in my defense I never said I was a good person…
I Regret Nothing:
* I’m not comparing women to underage animals. It’s just a metaphor. Don’t ruin it with your logic.
June 27, 2014 § 4 Comments
Sometimes life likes to shove it in your face that you are aging. Happy Birthday, is just another way of saying, ‘Congratulations, you got fucking older’.
I used to neglect my birthday. I’d do my best to conceal the funeral of another year gone by. And if I got my way, it would come and go without so much as an intimidate dinner. It worked for me. (I don’t need to hand over a co-pay to acknowledge avoidance is a reoccurring theme in my life.)
But my feelings on birthdays have shifted because I’ve started to feel that if you are fortunate enough to survive another year you should celebrate it or at the very least acknowledge it. So for the past two years instead of avoiding my birthday like an unplanned pregnancy I’ve embraced my special day of acceptable narcissism.
I faced my birthday head on. I even celebrated by doing what we were put on this green earth to do – make beautiful memories. I’m so brave.
Plus, who doesn’t love a good excuse to party? In case you need some inspiration for party themes I’d like to offer a few suggestions.
- A 90’s Themed Roller Skate Party
Remember back when life was simpler? When all you wanted was for your boobies to grow in and for the lights to dim so your jr. high crush could take your sweaty hand in his and pull you out onto the rink for a romantic couple skate. This was my recent birthday theme and it was awesome. Truly awesome.
- A Sleepover
Play spin the bottle. Play 7 minutes in heaven, get felt up by a cute stranger. You could even make it truly authentic by asking your mom to bust in on you mid session. That rush of guilt and shame will be truly nostalgic for any fellow recovering Catholics out there.
Pick Your Favorite Thing and Make it a Theme
My favorite thing is drinking so last year I had a Drunker Than Jamie Party. Buttons were awarded to all those who succeeded. It was very classy.
Need additional examples?
- Favorite Thing: Dumpster Diving / Party Theme: a disgusting potluck followed by an evening of food poisioning.
- Favorite Thing: Sex / Party Theme: An orgy
I think you get the picture.
Which is really just an intervention without the offer of a free vacation. This is a great way to get all party-goers involved. Everyone you love can come together to point out all your flaws and laugh in your face. Yay! Everybody win!
Other Ideas for an Unforgettable Birthday
- Someone dies (not as a theme, it just happens, people would remember that)
- Be North West
- Reenact your day of birth by crawling out of your mom’s vagina while your dad video tapes.
In Other News
This is romantic:
This is also romantic: (NSFW)
Yes I’m Drunk But I Still Think You’re Perfect:
June 11, 2014 § 2 Comments
And now, for some things:
Let the record show – I’m a fucking champion. *Licks finger, holds it against butt, makes sizzling sound*
Case in point:
Psychologist David Keirsey identifies ENFPs as “Champions,” which he suggests are rather rare. “Champions can be tireless in talking with others, like fountains that bubble and splash, spilling over their own words to get it all out,” Keirsey suggests. “And usually this is not simple storytelling; Champions often speak (or write) in the hope of revealing some truth about human experience, or of motivating others with their powerful convictions.” In addition to having an abundance of enthusiasm, they also genuinely care about others.
Go onnnnn *bats eyelashes excessively*
While they are great at generating new ideas…not seeing them through to completion is a common problem. ENFPs can also become easily distracted.
You sir, should have stopped at champion. But I have to admit, it’s so on point it’s freakin’ me out. Whoever is in charge of ADD meds please mail my ration asap.
And now you – do it.
I love a good commencement speech! I love the thought of fresh grads stepping out into the world with their dewy faces and twinkling eyes. Before the panic sets in, before everything good is laced with the promise of pain. When they are still full of faith and determination that they will, someday, get to live their truths. It just fills my heart, ya know?
I guess I’ll throw in some advice for any new grads while I’m here – Treat day-to-day decisions with respect. They mean something. Nothing is isolated. They accumulate and build exponentially. They will transform you. They can lead to something great or they can cost you dearly but either way – they matter. Those seemingly insignificant moments add up to a lifetime. Your lifetime. Remember that. Pay attention to your choices. Pay attention to your life. Time is the only currency worth worshipping.
And Lastly: This Goat with Sweet-Ass Parkour Moves
Sick to Death of Looking at Pretty:
January 24, 2014 § 2 Comments
My most recent post was about dicks so I feel like I should pay some respect to the vagina. One – because I don’t feel like I’ve embarrassed my parents nearly enough and two – because vaginas are the coolest (please, say that last part again but this time in a Billy Madison voice).
Everyone should respect the vagina because even if you don’t have one, your squishy little body came out of one on what should be considered the best day of your life, your first day of life.
The vagina is wonderful and warm and a beautiful flower (as demonstrated by Georgia O’Keeffe) so it’s no wonder babies want to crawl up there and live inside.
Ok. What else can I talk about vagina related? Hair cuts, hair cuts for your area. I heard bangs are currently in fashion? Waxing? Waxing is a thing I’ve heard of.
I personally have never been waxed because I like to be taken out for a drink before someone sticks their face in my vagina. I guess I’m just old fashioned like that. Plus, I’d feel rude if I didn’t offer to reciprocate which could make scheduling my next appointment awkward. Also I’m pretty sure it hurts.
Periods. Let’s talk periods. I actually haven’t gotten mine in almost six years. Not because my uterus is on strike or because I have any sass towards periods but because I heard a rumor you could opt-out via birth control and I was like, ‘yo, where do I sign?‘
Sometimes I think about the day when I’ll become a woman (for the second time) and I’m nervous my brain won’t be able to process the information quick enough due to a lapse in familiarity and I’ll scream something like — ‘oh god, I’ve been stabbed! I’m bleeding out!’ and a stranger will run into the restroom (cause in this scenario I’m in a public restroom) and then I’ll realize I haven’t been stabbed and in fact it’s just a visit from my dear aunt flo.
Then I’ll have to explain to my heroic stranger I wasn’t tricking them into some twisted fantasy of mine and that it’s actually a perfectly logical and understandable reaction for someone who is not used to bleeding out of their genitals. And then the stranger and I will laugh and laugh and become life long friends and affectionately tell the story of how we met to entertained guests at dinner parties.
Next topic. PMS.
Although I don’t get my period I do tend to get PMS-y around that time of the month. I don’t know if those are real hormones or it’s more like a phantom limb situation? I’m not a doctor so I can’t say for sure. But I do get symptomatic, not really irritable as much as I cry at things that aren’t cry-worthy followed by an outpouring of emotions. But how else would my loved ones know they are loved if it wasn’t for phantom PMS and 2AM Tequila rants?
Um, yeah. I think I’m done with this topic for now. I’m pretty sure next time I’m going to talk about blow jobs or I may hold off just so this blog doesn’t get a reputation, if you know what I’m sayin.
January 20, 2014 § 6 Comments
The dick pic has gotten a lot of bad press, but I believe the times they are a changin’.
According to Aziz Ansari and one of my very adamant co-workers, no woman wants to be sent a dick pic nor do women find dicks attractive. My initial reaction was to disagree with this rather bold blanket statement but I wanted to see if there was actual evidence to support my theory. So I conducted a study — no bullshit, I really did.
I majored in sociology, and as part of this major I was required to take several courses on statistical techniques, data analysis and quantitative research methods. And this, a dick pic study, is the one and only time those skills have ever come into play outside of academia. Who says liberal arts degrees are worthless? (Nope, not today.)
My sample population consists of 32 females whose ages ranged from 22 to 36*. Data was collected by either an emailed survey or phone interview. All subjects were asked the same questions. I analyzed the results and not to be cocky (pun intended) but I think you may find these conclusions interesting. Also for the sake of this post I’ll be shortening dick pic to DP (not to be confused with the other DP).
The primary significant finding was the majority of these women have had one or more positive experiences with a DP, thus disproving the theory that women don’t like DPs. Sure, there were several documented negative experiences, but some men, some noble trailblazers, are getting it right.
I sifted through and drew out the reoccurring themes that I believe to be the deciding factors of a successful DP. Below is a summary of the information, along with a few direct quotes from study participants. Warning: this is going to get intimate.
A Gentlemen’s Guide to Dick Pics
Do you think it’s ok for guys to send DP?
‘I don’t like dick pics. Sorry. Dicks aren’t pretty.’
‘Only if it’s requested.’
‘Yes I think it’s absolutely ok and in fact, I like receiving them.’
‘Fuck yea. I got unlimited texts up in my phone plan.’
Lesson Learned: Know Your Audience
- Some ladies shy away from a little exposure. Others will open your image with delight. Ask yourself, will my special lady treasure this for the gift it is? Will she treat it with the respect it deserves? If yes, then send away my friend. If you aren’t sure then you probably don’t know this woman well enough to be sending her pictures of your dick.
Have you ever appreciated receiving or found a DP attractive?
‘I do think it’s appreciated & I tend to find it attractive when it’s after a little hard core sexting & I know I contributed to it’s hardness, lol, or girth :)’
‘I got one from a guy I had grabbed drinks with and I swear he has like the holy grail of penises so it was practically a marketing tool…like I was not feeling him in a dating way but it was turned around into a hook up situation based on the pic. HOWEVER this can also work the opposite way…there was another guy I hooked up with once and I don’t remember it being all that good and then we would do the long distance drunken texting/sexting…his pic made me not want to come back for seconds’
Lesson Learned: Play Up Your Strong Suits
- I think all men should take pride in their area but in regards to sharing your DPs you need to give yourself an honest evaluation. If you got it, flaunt it. But if you find that your member is not one of your strongest features, consider some alternative options; maybe your lady friend would find a picture of your studly abs or adorable dimples more enticing?
Was there something about the picture that made it more appealing than others?
‘Absolutely! I’ve gotten some real artistic shots and I appreciate them taking the time to be all Godard with it.’
‘More appealing when I knew I had something to do with the making (of the erection). I prefer close up…full body is nice but not when it’s flaccid, that’s just ugly!!’
‘It helps if they clean up their bedroom.’
Lesson Learned: The Rules of a Selfie Apply
- Choose a flattering angle, be conscious of what is in the background and maybe throw on a filter if need be.
During these conversations a few unprompted topics came up. One of which was the time the picture was received.
‘It’s also super weird if I get a pic when I’m sober.’
‘It’s more appreciated after 9 pm. Getting a dick pic when the sun is still out can be alarming. For instance, I was recently playing Hide & Seek with my niece. I had just gotten tucked into this bomb ass hiding spot in my mom’s armoire and all of a sudden “BA DING” goes my text alert (Yes my H & S game needs work and I should’ve silenced my phone). I look and it’s a nice full body dick pic. As I look at it, my niece finds me. Kind of awkward.’
‘If you absolutely cannot resist sending pix of what your slaggin’ they are more appropriate after 9 pm (when my) DVR is played out (as is netflix, hbogo and hulu) (and I’m done) with wine and weed.’
Lesson Learned: Timing is Important
- Women noted feeling troubled or embarrassed by a DP received at a time they considered inconvenient. A few subjects admitted to instances they initially found a DP to be disturbing or ‘gross’ when sent at an inopportune time but when they revisited the same picture in the ideal mood and location, typically their home, the picture was looked upon more favorably. The highest likelihood of a positive reaction was when women received a picture while participating in a back-and-forth sexting conversation.
Is there anything you would suggest to guys that you think would improve their dick pics?
“Flaccid is not ok unless you want to scare women.’
Lesson Learned: Hard > Soft
- The sample as a whole shared the unanimous opinion that hard dicks were preferred over flaccid.
Is there any advice you think guys should know about sending dick pics?
‘Send sparingly, send hard, use good judgement.’
‘Dick pix are gross and weird if you can see the guys face.. and even more gross and weird if he’s smiling in the pix. PERVY!’
‘I learned this from a Lifetime movie about teenagers sexting. The mean girl character was making fun of the good girl who sent out a titty pic. Hello! The number one rule of sexting…neck down, thighs up. no distinguishing marks or tattoos.’
- Use them sparingly in order to maintain their meaning and impact. Also everyone could learn a valuable lesson from Lifetime. If someone is kind enough to send you a wonderful (vulnerable) gift, respect that and respond with courtesy. And above all if you’ve had sexual relations of any kind with a person: be fucking nice. But with that being said, you don’t know a woman until she is mad at you. So as a precaution never include your face or identifying marks / tattoos / etc. Relationships may fade but naked pictures on the internet last forever ever.
Quick & Dirty Cheat Sheet: Should I Send This Dick Pic?
If you answer yes to any of the following. Do not send.
- Are you creepy?
- Be honest, are you even a little bit of a sexual predator?
- Are you sure?
- Do you truly believe this person wants to receive this picture?
- Do you have a nice dick?
- Does this picture flatter your dick?
- Is your face or any other distinguishable trait visible in this picture?
If you passed, send away! Get your dick printed on a flag and wave it from your front porch. Yay dicks!
Can You Keep a Secret?
*Possible sample bias: A purposeful bias but still a bias was these women were chosen within this specific age range because of the increased likelihood of having received a dick pic. These women were also chosen based on convenience and although the sample includes a healthy variation of race, geography and relationship status, it should still be noted. And lastly this is relatively small sample size.
December 16, 2013 § 10 Comments
One summer during college I got a babysitting gig after answering an ad, “Seeking a reliable individual with childcare experience to watch a 7 year old boy, must be willing to do some light housekeeping.” The ad would have been much more accurate if it had said, “Seeking someone to clean my house who is cool with constantly being trailed by a 7 year old.” To be fair both sides padded the truth since I had also claimed to be reliable and to have had experience with children, neither of which were true.
Here are the order of events leading up to the incident:
A tiny field mouse ran across the kitchen floor. Immediately I leapt into action grabbing a large salad bowl from the countertop and placing it upside down over the small creature to contain it. The little boy, who we’ll call Ian because that was his name, screamed for me to ‘KILL IT!’
No I would not. Out of respect. For nature. And life. And because I’m not a serial killer you fucking psychopath.
I didn’t really know what to do next so I handled the situation the way I handle all my problems, I left it as it was and told myself I’d deal with it later. But Ian would not drop it. He kept following me around menacingly chanting, ‘kill it, you gotta kill it.’ It was pretty unsettling and to be honest I feared for that mouse’s safety.
As a distraction tactic I told Ian we could walk down to the corner store and I’d give him five dollars to spend on whatever he wanted. He wanted candy. His parents had mentioned he doesn’t “do well” with sugar but I’m very good at making terrible decisions so I kept my word and let him get whatever his little heart desired. It wasn’t until we got back to the house that I realized what a healthy budget five dollars is for corner store candy.
Ian ate his candy. He ate his candy like a motherfucker. Not long after, the sugar-high began to kick in and that’s when shit started to get REAL.
Before I knew it Ian was gripping a bright red lipstick and furiously painting his face. So furiously that it was borderline violent. I knew I should stop him but I was a little hesitant on how to go about disarming him. I didn’t want to shame him for playing with make-up. For once he looked happy and at the time ripping the lipstick from his young impressionable hand seemed like it could be a hate crime.
Ian’s next move was straight up rock n’ roll. He grabbed a small vase from a nearby side table, raised it above his head and smashed it to the ground.
Holy fuck kid. What possible reason could you have had for losing your shit on that vase? I was momentarily taken back. Part of me was thinking, TOTALLY INTO IT. LET’S DO THIS!! The other part did not feel safe.
The child had gone rogue.
He made a break for the kitchen. I tried to grab him but it was impossible. He was moving in a feverish panic like a tiny meth-head ninja. He stormed into the pantry ripping snacks open, shoving handfuls of whatever into his mouth. It was terrifying.
He shot from the pantry leaving a trail of cereal behind. I ran after him. This chase went on for what felt like hours. I’d lose sight of him as he darted in and out of rooms, then he’d pop up right behind me laughing like a fucking lunatic.
I was finally able to corner him as he paused standing on top of the couch. He stared at me. I stared back at him trying to read his expression. It was one I’d seen before. Was he surrendering? Nope. That wasn’t it? I knew this face…
We locked eyes both knowing what was coming. And for some god awful reason I ran towards him. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe somewhere deep down I thought, I deserve this. Either way it happened. The vomit. Projectile vomit. Everywhere. On me. On the couch. On the floor. Honestly I was surprised at how much sheer volume came out of such a small boy.
If you’ve never had another human being vomit on you. Including your face. It’s fucked up. It’s warm and pungent. It feels personal. It feels like a violation. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself somewhere far away. Somewhere safe. It didn’t work. The smell got the best of me and well, before I knew it I had to vomit too. And vomit I did.
At that moment I remember thinking, God help me. I need an adult. A real adult. And then his mother walked in the door. Shit. Not that adult. I scanned the room trying my best to quickly calculate a cost-analysis of the damage. ‘Everything is fine’ I assured her as I waved my vomit covered hand in her direction. But everything was not fine. In fact it was the exact of the opposite of fine.
She was, naturally, irate. After getting her up to speed on the situation. She let me know they would no longer be needing my services. Probably for the best. Then I went home and high-fived BC* pills into my face.
I’m Sure You Have a Lot Of Things Going For You But Your Child…Your Child is a Dick: