Monday, April 26, 2010

tag team wrestling.

sorry this is late, but i was in the hospital. too bad i didn't die.
i'm going to start banging my drum early and often this time. let's just say this: if you have never seen or heard me read before, you are missing the fuck OUT. i'm not going to beg, because fuck degrading myself. just rest with the knowledge that whatever you opt to do instead of laughing your balls off as my dulcet tones caress your eardrums is not nearly as fucking awesome. i'm a goddamned winner, do you hear me? i'm a formidable opponent onstage, and everything i do is made of awesome. i am also a prodigious talent. that said, i don't care about anything anymore. so if you don't come, it's totally cool. know that you will have missed more than i have.

one of the people on that poster is me. yes, my christian name is jacob knabb. i wasn't going to tell you, but i feel like we've reached a point in our relationship where i can be completely honest. also, my blindness comes courtesy of syphilis, not some freak looking into the sun accident like i told you before we slept together. sorry i made your pee burn. anyslut, i'm also doing some women in comedy show thing in the summer, and putting up my very own show in the fall. in other words, i'm about to be too famous to answer your stupid texts about algebra homework and ridiculous dudes. this is your last shot to get in on the ground floor, children. once i'm famous i'm only taking calls from heavyweights.

i'm working on this new cold and aloof thing. because i have been getting my feelings hurt all over the fucking place lately, and that shit is SO not cute. i'm too rad for that. cara's self-helpful ass gave me this book about not letting dumb shit cut your ass too deep and going with the flow, and i read that shit and took notes and everything. so i'm an impenetrable wall of steel right now, obviously. (it's totally not working so far.) you'll probably think this is dumb, and i TOTALLY don't care, but i meant what i said when i wrote that reading "he's just not that into you" totally changed my perspective. if you're making fun it's only because you're an asshole who's too afraid to admit that someone just might not like your ass. and that goes for men AND women. because bitches are shady fucking liars, too. hold on while i find that old shit i wrote.

this is from my post "the dirtiest bird":
i would really like to give thanks for that dude with the crazy hair who wrote "he's just not that into you," because before i read that shit, i kind of really didn't fucking know. i was the queen of excuses, both making and accepting the most ridiculous explanations for why dudes treated me like dogshit. i got on the bandwagon late, but i read that book in one fucking sitting and it completely changed my views on and standards for my interpersonal relationships with men.

sometimes a motherfucker has to hit you over the head with something before you really understand, and that book was the brick to the skull that finally catapulted me out of my dude coma. because it's so easy to give some asshole the benefit of the doubt, especially when the alternative could be such a poor reflection on me. much easier to believe "he's really busy at work" than it is to swallow "i'm not important enough to call for two weeks." sometimes you just need to see in black and white that, despite how sad and lonely it might make you feel, that is unacceptable behavior and that idiot deserves his walking papers.

so i'm not accepting anymore bullshit, you fucking bitches. if you're not asking me out, i'm over you. if you're not calling me, i'm over you. if you're not dating me, i'm over you. if you only want to see me when you're drunk, i'm over you. if you don't want to fuck me, i'm over you. if you don't want to marry me, i'm over you. if you're breaking up with me, i'm over you. if you disappear on me, i'm over you. if you're unavailable, i'm over you. if you're selfish, i'm over you. if you don't love me in a tangible goddamned way, i'm totally fucking over you. and if you hit me, you better kill me, because i will fucking destroy you.

just so you know, no more stomachaches over stupid shit. you had your chance. my new motto is "so the fuck what?" now let's get on with this dirty business. the typeface is cccrazy, but i can't fix it. blame blogger.

Hello everyone. I am Big Love, and I will be assisting in this little fiasco. Qualifications, you might ask? I have a dick.  In all honesty I am Sam’s friend. I read her shit all the time and we share our own little “Big Love” relationship without all the sex. I am still trying to figure out that one as well, so bear with me.

Look, I will tell it how it is, and try to make it funny, relatable, and, above all else, honest. I won't sugarcoat anything and if it hurts I am sorry. If you don’t like it, DEAL. And if you do like it, great for both of us. The way I see it there are three types of men in the world: 1) men who follow their dicks, 2) men who use their head in combination with their dick and give a shit, and 3) just plain morons. Somehow though, guy number two usually ends up getting fucked in the deal. He's the winner of the bunch, but ladies always choose the others for some reason.

Look, we work hard to listen, relate, show you our softer sides, and actually be intelligent, but somehow we still get fucked over for the guy that treats you girls like shit. And if you are THAT DUDE reading this then yes, FUCK YOU. it’s hard enough finding a good woman, let alone one you haven't fucked up for the rest of us. So, without further ado, bring on the questions.

i just have to stick the tip in for one second here before we continue. 1 it is totally big love's fault that we continue to maintain a sexless relationship. what is he trying figure out? his penis + my vagina = problem solved. bear with THAT. (just kidding. we friends and shit.) 2 i don't understand the whole "moody, elusive, unavailable" dude thing, either. that's why i have never been a fan of johnny depp, because i secretly believe that's how he is. and i don't have time for that. if a nice, handsome shit-giver ever followed his dick to me, i would collapse in a fit of happiness giggles and never stop darning his socks and making him pancakes. 3 i've never fucked a dude over EVER. just want to put that out there in case karma is listening. come on, universe. drop a falling star on me instead of all these fucking basteroids. okay, then. let's do dis for reals.

I’ve lived with my guy for years. We’ve talked about marriage, but he’s very close to his mom, and I’ve noticed that he’ll follow her advice after ignoring mine — even if it’s the same advice! Is there anything I can do to make him stop turning to Mom when he should be turning to me?

Easy, here is what I want you to do: the next time you two are getting intimate (yes guys, ready to fuck) feel around his belly button and check to see if the umbilical cord is still attached. Kidding. Here is the real deal. He will always be like this until his mother is gone. Some guys are just momma's boys no matter what. It's crazy, I know, but they never got over the puppy dog phase.  For the guys, this is really kind of pathetic. I mean, we all want our mothers and parents to approve of who we are with and what we do, but you can get a drink of water by yourself without asking. The best thing you can do is SUCK UP! No, not to him, but to his mother. If you really want to marry this guy you need to "act" like his mom in front of her. That way she will know her baby is taken care of just like she would, and she can step out of the way. Focus on her.

i just threw up. for cereal. i would rather eat a bowl of razors coated with AIDS than suck up to some asshole's stupid mom. barf. if his mother is a gutter-mouthed drunk who eats too much and listens to her music too loud, then maybe i'd consider "acting" like her. is that whole thing about dudes wanting to end up with someone just like their mom really true? if so, i need to make some fucking amendments to my eharmony profile. meet samantha, a 30 year old cat lady in chicago who loves music, writing about ho shit, and crushing your dreams before you're even old enough to drive a car. she's looking for someone to: brow beat, hen peck, castigate, scold, and put her cigarettes out on when spanking just doesn't work anymore. she is good at: setting curfews, making sloppy joes, disapproving of your hair/clothes/friends, and attempting to help with your trig homework when she has no idea what the fuck she's talking about. her ideal mate: is under four feet tall, doesn't have all of his adult teeth yet, and can dump his own potty because she thinks that shit is disgusting. also, she makes a mean grilled cheese, and she is willing to kiss all of your owwies and boo boos when you fall down and hurt yourself. bed-wetters need not apply.

i don't care about a man's problems, so this shit wouldn't bother me that much. i have enough of my own shit. hang that albatross around someone else's neck. also, i like a dude who's into his mom. NOT a mama's boy, mind you, but a gentleman who is kind and respectful to his mother can holler at these chonies anytime. because isn't that indicative of the relationship he's going to have with a girlfriend? maybe not, but if he doesn't act like all women are good-for-nothing skanks that's a start. anyway, i just don't care. and neither should you, gorgeous. go back to thinking about project runway and cupcake day at dinkel's and boning christian bale with the lights on like i do.

drapermy was a little salty at me last week, i think, because i glossed over the fact that he is a sensitive creature with feelings who cries real tears just like i do, and not some ladykilling android who doesn't care when his wiring and hard drive are smashed to pieces by some female terminator. and i felt bad for having been callous, because i care about that little mancake probably a little more than is healthy or emotionally responsible, and don't like knowing that he's upset with me. i don't know if he's really mad, though, because he didn't really tell me. maybe he called his mom.

I have an on-again, off-again relationship with this guy. The main reason why it’s been so rocky is because when we’re on, he’s seldom able to perform in bed, and it gets both of us so frustrated. However, when we just hook up during "off" times, he has no problems. I really think this is the only obstacle to our being together, so is there anything I can do to fix it?

Sam, are you seriously giving me these easy ass questions? Okay okay okay here is your answer: STOP FUCKING HIM! Look, he can’t get it up when you're "dating" because it isn’t a challenge. When you are not "dating" he is not attached and can do what he wants. Yes, he is this much of an asshole. Second of all, and hear me on this please, THIS IS NOT THE ONLY OBSTACLE. If everything else was good you would still be together and not writing this email. I mean, shit, they do make Viagra, and anyone can get that shit. You are a fling to him and that is all you ever will be. Oh, and if he reads this and gets pissed…I can kick his ass, so deal with the truth, dude.

man, it just hit me what my problem with men might be. omg, kittens, i am having a MAJOR moment of clarity right now. I AM NOT ENOUGH OF A CHALLENGE. now let's not go crazy here. i certainly am challenging: i'll challenge a dude's manhood, his sexual virility, his vocabulary, his intestinal fortitude, and his overall general knowledge and skills. like the SAT, but sexier. and better smelling. i am obviously making it too easy for these dudes. returning their phone calls (i NEVER answer my phone EVER), being kind, making plans, acting interested...who the fuck knew that all of these things would drive a man away?! all of that being nice and accommodating was just driving them further away from my bed. god, because who would want to ever be with someone who is sweet and gives a shit about you? pshaw. i'm obviously cray-cray.

so from now on these dudes have to work. I AM NEVER CALLING ANOTHER DUDE EVER AGAIN. and i mean that shit. i'm not going to burn a single calorie dialing some hot dickbag's number who doesn't really give a shit. he can call me, because i'm BUSY. and then he can leave me a message i won't bother to return. that should save me a shit ton of anytime minutes. see, this plan is not only going to guarantee me romantic success, is also economically prudent. huzzah! i'm not going to respond to a single goddamned email and pretend i don't see my goddamned text messages. speaking of, i got a text from hot weekend a couple days ago saying "what's good, baby?" and i texted back "DEEZ NUTZ." and i deleted everything he texted thereafter without reading it. man, fuck that dude. literal weeks have gone by. don't bullshit a bullshitter. just go the fuck away. plus, he had TINY BALLS. you have to be ten different varieties of amazing for me to tolerate THAT. pssssshaw.

the lobster texted me, too. A MONTH LATER. and you want to know what he said? "damn sam, it's been a long time. where have you been? what have you been doing?" oh, you know me. gallivanting across europe, jet-setting in the mediterranean, hiking the outback, gestating your fetus...the fun never ends! pffft. bitch, i haven't been doing SHIT. which you would have known if you hadn't let a MONTH GO BY. where have you been, what have you been doing? i'm just sitting here watching my fingernails grow and listening to helen's punk ass bat shit around my apartment and waiting for you to pick up the goddamned phone. (i never had sex with the lobster, i just like the word gestate. it makes me sound all smart and stuff.) some dude asked me out to dinner this week, and i'm going to go. and i'm going to shake his hand after the meal, then get myself home. BY MYSELF. and i'm not going to call him afterward. or ever. i should have a husband by sunday.

so, angelface, you know the answer. stop seeing this dude. laurage and i were on the train after work the other day, and we decided (for ME, of course, because that bitch already has a man) that i'm going to be done with a person the SECOND it ceases to be fun. for cereal. and "rocky," "frustrated," and "obstacle" are hardly the funnest, sexiest words in the dicktionary. send that asshole packing.

I’m a touchy-feely flirt — I’ll rest my hand on a guy’s arm or touch him in some innocent way. But dudes take it as a green light to drunkenly be all over me. How do I convey that I am flirting but don’t want to hook up?

Stop it with your whorish touch. No seriously, everything we read, are told, and listen to tells us that touching is a sign that a woman is really really into you. And that means that we are going to try for sex right away. I know, women touch more than guys do so you are used to it. But guys hardly get that shit, and when we do we think its an open door and we can just jump through with reckless abandon. Use your words more, and be more subtle. Learn to communicate with us without touching us. Hell, most of need our minds stimulated more than our dicks anyway, so try that first.

i only know how to touch people inappropriately, so i avoid putting my hands on anyone's anything. now where are these dudes who need mental stimulation? because in 99 out of 100 instances, the penis does the picking. says patty. maybe i've been watching too much millionaire matchmaker. that show is fucking poison, right? every time i watch that silly shit my self-esteem goes down, like, THIRTY points. that bullshit is demoralizing.

anyway, i'm going to start marketing myself as a mental stimulator. especially since the minute i put one of these ham hands on some dude's arm he'd bruise. all i'd have to do is be smart and tell jokes, and since that's already ALL I FUCKING DO it shouldn't be so hard.

this stupid bitch is wearing me out, though. dudes are disgusting pigs from the pit of hell, so OF COURSE the second you show them anything other than your ice queen facade they immediately jump to the conclusion that you want to make grass sandwiches with them. even when all you were trying to be was "innocent." i obviously need to go to the school of delusion most of you assholes graduated from. if a dude touches me i assume first that it's some sort of charity touch, that he can somehow tell that it doesn't happen that often, or that he's being helpful, because i've managed to get mayonnaise on my shoulder and he's trying to help conceal the embarrassing grease stain.

your hoe ass knows what you're doing. cock-teasing a dude out of a few amaretto sours before trying to go home to the boyfriend you told you were "just going out with the girls." pshaw. have fun getting raped.

Recently, I've been getting so unbelievably wet during sex that we have to stop and actually dry off! It's gross. Help!

Let me say this slowly: DO. NOTHING. The extra lubrication is welcome. I know it's messy and kind of a pain after, but isn’t that what sex really is? Look, there is nothing wrong at all with a woman being moist, we like it.  In fact, it is a turn on for us if we can help make you that slippery. If you are really worried about it and if it really bothers you that much there are a couple things you can by to help. They make plastic sheets now for regular size beds, and you can’t even tell they're plastic. Plus, they can be washed. They also have pads that collect and hold liquid, and I mean massive amounts, that you can wash and reuse as well. Think of it this way, wouldn’t you rather have it too wet, rather than not wet enough?  I mean, come on now. OUCH.

dry fucking is the worst. or so i've heard, because i ain't got them kind of problems. my body is a WASTELAND of scar tissue and crazy cell counts and anemia, but the one part that has always performed at the top of her game is my bajingo. she's a veritable slip-n-slide of sexual awesomeness.

plastic sheets, reusable absorbent pads? how in the fuck do you KNOW this shit, big love?! what am i going to see the next time i walk into your bedroom? i love it when nice dudes have a little secret freak tucked away under their button-down shirts and sensible shoes. i'm going to make this dude give me a little look-see inside his goody drawer; i'll let you know what kind of dirty filthy nastiness i find.

anyway, babygirl, this is SO NOT GROSS. keep a box of kleenex or a towel next to your bed like the rest of us, and mop it up as needed. and ENJOY IT WHILE YOU CAN. when you're sixty-five and setting fucking forest fires with your pussy every time you walk from the house to the car, you'll look back on these days and want to cry.

fo rilla. it's like a tinderbox down there. ask your grandma.

My boyfriend and I think it would be exciting to have sex in a public place, but we're afraid of getting caught. Have any advice?

Don’t do it. Nobody wants to see that shit, and if they do you might be a little scared afterward. If your boyfriend is a cop this shouldn’t be an issue. If he is not there are a couple things you can do. Start trying things slow. How about in front of a window with the shades open (privacy law).  If you really want to do it in public then I would suggest a bathroom in a NICE, CLEAN bar, or someplace like that. Other than that just be adventurous and wear clothing that you can either keep on or put on quickly if need be.

did i pick this question before? sometimes when i'm going through them i fucking forget. so i'll keep this quick, since i've probably said it thirty times already: i don't believe in fucking outside. next question.

My vulva looks really weird because one lip is longer and more wrinkled-looking than the other. I have been putting off doing anything sexual with my boyfriend because I'm embarrassed about it. Is there anything I can do to fix it?

Um, they have surgery for that. Really, another easy one, Sam? All right here is the simple and easiest answer I can give: Don’t worry about it. We are just happy to be down there and enjoying ourselves as much as you are. We could give a shit what it looks like; unless it's green, moldy, and has teeth, we will be fine with it. And if he isn’t it's most likely because he likes playing for the other team. Don’t be so self-conscience, we aren’t. Have you ever really looked at a set of balls? I mean come on, most of the time one is bigger than the other. It’s a medical fact.

want to know another medical fact? I LOVE BALLS. did you hear that noise? that was the sound of my vagina BURSTING with glee. i'm not even going to address that wrinkly lip business. i bet you're only worried about because some stupid y chromosome pointed it out. and fuck him. grow your pubes out. PROBLEM SOLVED.

instead, i am going to rhapsodize about testicles. every time a dude disrobes at the foot of my bed and has a duffel bag full of plums swinging between his legs, an angel gets its wings. or at least samantha gets hers. vampire asked me a long time ago just what it is about testicles that are SO GREAT that they warrant constant mention in my blog. 1st of all, this is MY shit. i write about diarrhea and big scrotums and whatever else i fucking want, and if you don't like it? off you go. 2nd, giant, manly, virile balls are HILARIOUS. they just look so dumb. and big. and DUMB. they're, like, the grossest part of the human anatomy. and they smell like feet and goat piss when they haven't been washed. they just hang there, all misshapen and weird, wrinkled and stinky, and if you even graze one in the wrong way a dude's knees will buckle like nancy kerrigan's. that's incredible! if you kicked me in my vagina right now i would maybe flinch, then get up and beat the snot out of you and call carol to blow up your fucking house when i was finished. not so with my male counterparts.

now don't get mad at me, but this one time p was talking so much MAD CRAZY SHIT for a dude not wearing any pants, and when i got tired of listening to it i bit him in the nuts. HARD. with all the strength my jaw could muster. i was like a pit bull. i was maybe 21 at the time, much more fearless than i am now. but i also keep knives strategically hidden around my apartment. and by the time he swung at me i had a switchblade at his femoral artery and was ready to take it to the next level. he conceded, of course.

that was the only time in my life i have abused a precious set of testes. i usually hold and caress them as one would a baby bird or a newborn kitten. right before i start laughing at how ridiculous they look and sniffing around to figure out what variety of cheese they smell like. man, i love balls.

My man wants me to touch his perineum when we're fooling around. Where is it exactly, and what do I do with it once I find it?

Wow, I had to look this one up actually to find out what it really was. And, to my surprise, it is just a fancy word for TAINT. If you don’t know what that is you weren’t a kid in the 80s or later, so you should really just stop trying to do new kinky stuff. It's all about pressure in this area. Not enough and it does nothing. Too much and you may be kicked in the face. Act like it is your clit, and don’t beat the shit out of it. Oh, and careful if you inch back too far. You might get kicked in the face for a different reason.

NOTHING IS WORSE than a dude who abuses your soft ladymeat the way he would his penis. dudes are downright mean to their little manfriends when it comes to secret solo action, and i'd prefer my Va G be treated like a baby unicorn or something, stroked and petted with the utmost care. it's delicate down there guys! be nice to her!

i like a dude who likes a finger in his bum, so i'm no stranger to the taint. if you're worried about being too rough, use your ring finger, because it isn't as strong as the others. is that a fucking coincidence, OR WHAT? your wedding ring goes on the least hearty digit on your entire goddamned hand?! no wonder it's a dyyyying institution. (here's another tip, because i love you: you should also use your ring finger when applying undereye concealer so you don't cake that shit on. there is nothing grosser than a bitch with blindingly white, improperly applied concealer. ooh, and one more: concealer goes on OVER your foundation and UNDER whatever you set it with. this radiant beauty doesn't grow on trees. i read magazines and shit. takes notes.)

so the taint is the stretch of skin between his glorious testicles and his butthole, and you should probably ask HIM how he likes it manipulated. i always press it really hard when he's least expecting it to try to get him to poop himself. oh, i keed. some sort of tickle/stroke move is probably best, or you could really make his day by putting your mouth there, but i'm sure you puritans aren't into that. then slowly inch your way back to his shit pussy, slide your finger in, and hook it so you get his prostate. at first he's going to act all shocked and violated. hold your ground, sister, and keep your finger in there. just pat him on the head with your free hand and say, "liking this doesn't make you gay." (even though it TOTALLY DOES.) that should settle him down. there's no way on earth that asking your lady, "hey, would you mind touching my perineum?" (i hope he said it all clinical like that) is NOT a precursor to backdoor action. i refuse to believe it.

what he wants is a forefinger up in his poop shoot, but is too much of a wimp to ask you to give him one. and i probably shouldn't have to say this, but try to make sure he takes a number 2 before you get all this started. finger chunks are the WORST.

Sometimes my vagina makes a farting sound during sex. What's going on, and should I be worried?

You are normal. This happens. Plus you can laugh about it, and maybe even break the ice. Look, air gets stuck in places, and when you shove a piece of man meat in there it has to go someplace. We all need to loosen up more during sex; we make weird noises, say stupid shit, and it's messy. But isn’t that why it's fun, especially if it's with someone you like doing that with? I know I know, mushy stuff. But oh well, deal with it. Everyone wants great sex with someone they care for and who cares for them.

i might start fucking crying. an answer that could have wound up in a queef joke wasteland turned out to be the sweetest, most beautiful fucking thing i've ever read in my whole life. le sigh, big love. and i mean that shit. i gave my number to some young dude just because he asked for it (imagine that), and he's texted me nothing but "hey, what are you up to?" for two days STRAIGHT. seriously. multiple times a day. i know i'm all exciting and fabulous and shit, but EVEN I just don't do that much. this weekend i: got drunk, ate some chex mix, made an appointment with my gynecologist, spent three hundred dollars at target only to get home and realize i forgot five essential things (i remembered vibrator batteries, though), watched a marathon of the hills on mtv (that justin bobby really winds my goddamned watch), redesigned my bathroom with the help of cb2 and the company store, sucked down a dozen diet cokes, changed her majesty's litterbox, watched jackie brown a million more times, and did the laundry. and i guess that sounds like a lot, but 1 i took friday off to avert an impending nervous breakdown thus had some extra time to do shit and 2 i can't text someone "i just ate some chex mix."

i just texted him back "this is totally boring and you should try to be interesting" because, like i said, i don't care anymore. and he's probably a toolbox. sex has to be funny and fun, otherwise all the crying and explaining could really be a fucking bummer. here's another thing i just decided: i want some caring sex now. even though i get totally sketched out looking in someone's eyes for too long. add that to my 2010 list. since i'm retarded and sex noises and stomach noises and shit noises don't bother me in the slightest, especially when i'm making them, my advice is to just roll with it. or, as robyn said so eloquently last night, POWER THROUGH. now let's all go mush it up.

My boyfriend needs fast thrusting during intercourse to achieve orgasm, but I like it slow. Plus, it takes me longer to climax. What can we do that will give us both pleasure?

Um, is he really that much of an asshole? Look, every relationship is about two things: communication (yes, the most important part) and compromise. If he truly is so much of an asshole that he is not worried about YOU first and foremost then what are you doing? That comment, by the way, goes for all ladies. Really, you're going to put up with that shit when there are good ass men out there willing to do almost whatever you ask? He needs to be willing to take his time and make sure you are satisfied before he starts pumping away like a donkey kicking a kid in the face. I know, nice visual there. If he can't keep it up that long, then see my Viagra comment from above. I mean, anyone can get it.

where, big love, the fuck are these good ass dudes who are willing to do whatever i ask? and why have i only met dudes who are worried about THEMSELVES first and foremost? also, can you please introduce me to someone who both takes his time and makes sure that i'm satisfied? i feel like every dude thinks he's that dude, because i've done a pretty good job sampling the single male population, and not a single one of these specimen has turned up YET. i know a lot of dudes, and every one of them thinks that HE is a nice, perfect gentleman. pfft.

my real-life, often-practiced solution is this: MAKE HIM STOP and if he acts like he doesn't hear you say, "this is rape now." that'll get his ass. i never ever let someone do something to me that i don't like. really, what is the POINT? so he can roll over after and think, "damn, that chick is awesome. i didn't even have to do anything for HER" while you masturbate yourself to sleep? fuck that shit. besides, if you don't correct it the first time, he will always try to fuck you like that. and you'll weaken your argument if you let him get away with it before. that's why, kittens, the very first time some dude starts fucking you wrong you have to put a stop to it right then and there and retrain him the right way.

also, do yourselves a favor women and GET OVER that whole pleasuring him thing. he'll be fine. GET YOURS.

My new guy's penis is enormous, and my mouth is tiny. When I tried to give him oral sex, I practically choked. How do I do it without gagging? Please help!

Practice makes perfect. All right, asshole comment out of the way. There are a couple of things you can do. First and foremost, use more hand. Yes, practice just sucking the tip, which is where most of the nerve endings are anyway. However, while doing this use your hand like you are giving a hand job. Work that shit like it is going out of style. The must-have for this, however, is lubrication. Spit on it, use lube, hell do anything, just make sure it is not dry. Because FUCK does that hurt. Also, you can work on stopping that gag reflex by pushing your limits every time you give head. But make sure you haven’t eaten right beforehand. That can gets really gross.

have i ever told you dudes exactly how i fractured my nose when i was nineteen? let's just say that voracious jack-sucking is fucking dangerous. you should have heard the story i manufactured for the ER doctor. PRICELESS.

I can climax during penetration but not during oral sex. I enjoy what my boyfriend is doing, and it always feels like I might orgasm, but I never do. Help!

It will never happen, you are a lost cause. It sucks I know, but fuck it, just give more head. Okay, not really. The biggest thing you need to do is relax. It's a complete mental block for you, and that's all it is. Let yourself go, and get lost in the moment. And if it is something he is doing than tell him, fuck, better yet show him. There truly is nothing hotter when you are going down on a woman than when she grabs your head and just uses it the way she likes. We like the assistance, it helps us know what truly turns you on and how we can please you. And yes I mean that. If your guy thinks otherwise he is a real asshole.

so big love is one of the nicest dudes i've ever fucking met. he's smart, he's handsome, he's thoughtful, he's really fucking sweet, and he's drunk all the fucking time. he's not a huge weirdo, either. and i'm 100% positive that he means what he said about pleasing a girl. i'm about to say something i don't think i've ever said here: I AM NOT A HUGE FAN OF BEING EATEN OUT. there, i said it. now you know i want to say it's because dudes do it wrong, so let's go with that. no, that would make me an asshole.

1 i'm self-conscious. about the taste or if the hair looks right or if he can smell my butt or whatever other thing that is totally beyond my control. and i know it's dumb and there's nothing wrong (i know because the gyne told me, thankyouverymuch), but i still get weirded out. it's a lot of pressure, man. dorito used to keep his glasses on while he went to work down there, and that made me so anxious i almost hyperventilated. but he also got me to nirvana, so maybe he knew something i didn't. hair was the last one who had his face in my pretty place, and i just could not finish. and he's still alive, so i guess it doesn't smell too ripe.

2 i have a tricky good spot. it's not that hard to find, but for the sub-human pieces of garbage who have tried and failed to get it just right it has proven to be elusive. plus, sometimes i get leg cramps from all of these fucking drugs i take, and the position that would feel the absolute best would break a normal human male's motherfucking neck.

3 every dude on the planet swears that he is SO FUCKING GOOD at it, and refuses to take direction. for cereal. i am not even kidding. EVERY SINGLE DUDE thinks that he alone is king cunnilingus and is so goddamned proud of himself, between my legs gnashing his teeth and biting my clit off and doing that stupid thing where he licks right on your pee hole super fast. why have i had more than one person DO THAT to me?! fucking stop it, you neanderthals! who taught you that? seriously, WHO? i want her number, so i can go KILL HER. some dumb bitch was like, "oh yeah, dart your tongue in and out of your mouth as fast as you can, like a lizard, against my urethra," and now you think we ALL like that bullshit. you are going to fuck around and end up with a mouth full of pee, and trust me when i say that that shit SUCKS ASS. she probably told you to blow air on it, too. IDIOT. stop it. stop that. stop this. STOP DOING THIS.

you wonder why it takes so long, eh? why you have to be down there for the duration of a fucking football game, eyes burning with your tongue near paralysis? because you do dumb shit like STOP, TALK, MOVE, and BLOW AIR. if, while giving you the best blowjob you've ever had in your entire life, i just stopped cold and dipped your penis in liquid nitrogen, how long do you think it might take for you to have an orgasm? an hour? two hours? THREE DAYS? because that is what it fucking feels like when you blow frigid air on something wet. that something, in this case my gorgeous g spot, stops working. then you have to start all over. don't ask if i like it or how good it feels or whatever other dumb thing you want to say. if i hate it, i'll punch you in the top of your idiot head. and trust me, if you knew how stupid you looked with vaginal lubricant slathered all over your face you'd shut the fuck up and keep your head down.

because THAT is what WORKS. and if you don't like what he's doing, you don't have to let him. this is america, bitch. that shit's in the constitution.

Okay. I think that is it, Sam. Next time, if there is a next time, hit me with some harder shit. Ladies, there are really good guys out there, it just takes time to find them, and don’t be as superficial as you think WE are. Give some guy you wouldn’t normally date a chance, you might be surprised. I mean shit, if a “Bitch has to eat,” don’t we have to supply something worth eating?

"hit me with some harder shit?" i've got that inscribed on my headboard. and yum to that supplying something worth eating business. you dudes should take a lesson. now where did i leave my spoon...?