Special, Not Special

hippe

As a result of the blending of reality and fantasy, some women have chosen to willingly play along by a new set of rules in order to keep their men interested: They’re intentionally impersonating porn stars. Sadie, a real-estate agent, says, “A lot of guys have come to expect P.S.E. [the “Porn-Star Experience”] as a common thing — snatches waxed bald, access to every hole —and plenty of women are more than happy to provide. A few might enjoy it, but for most it’s harrowing. I think there’s a fear that if they can’t make it happen, their boyfriend will retreat online.” New York Magazine

Continue reading “Special, Not Special”

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You’re Making This All Up, You Know

Never mind that we frequent this place together, is it not true that these electrons meet in a prearranged way so as to give the appearance of words, in English, a feast, a table at which you may dine or not? (Such freedom!) But if there is anything happening at all, if the web is anything, it is a vast and mostly empty shared, imagined space. The most striking thing about which is the speed and ease with which millions of minds take it up. Continue reading “You’re Making This All Up, You Know”

One Split Second Before Sex

Hamptons

rabbit blog:
You’re craving that one split second BEFORE you fuck the guy, and nothing more. Most of us are hung up on that moment, thanks to being flooded with its supreme significance through every minute of our waking hours on earth.

Well, yes  … it represents everything. The moment at birth when your gaze locks onto your mother. Which must be about the happiest moment in life. Depressing thought—but I saw it, I witnessed my grandson being born and taking a deep breath and starting to cry. Someone must have quickly checked him out—I was just impressed by the pop-up sponge quality of the whole thing—and he was placed upon his mother’s breast. Slowly, as his eyes realized they had a gaze, very slowly, his eyes turned upward toward her face—how did he know to do that? Continue reading “One Split Second Before Sex”

Not This Girl

Women Settle for Mediocre Sex: “Not knowing why they feel so deflated after sex, women assume it’s their fault or they just don’t bring up the topic to their partner.”

Yeah, right. Or how about the actual truth. How about some tips on telling your man he can’t fuck worth shit. Tactfully. No such thing. Easier to suck it up the way women do with whatever’s wrong, and no idea the price they’re going to pay later on. Lies take it out of your hide. Lying out of fear, out of misguided compassion, or that terrible admixture of both.

How about let’s back up a step. 1, How many men do you know (this one’s for the gals out there) with a clue. Who like women’s real bodies. To whom sex is one big juicy mutual act. To wit, if he won’t go down, honey, he’s curb material, and you’re a fool if you don’t start kickin.’

2? Don’t think so. Not today. Don’t want to start missing the man who did adore me—not the one I’d married. (Give me credit, the ex already languished curbside.)

Some other time. You learn, over the years, Truth, she is a sad but beautiful creature.

How Can People Be So Stupid?

Okay, maybe that isn’t the line from that heartbreaking ballad in Hair. Maybe it is. Like I am under some obligation to google every detail this constantly-associating, hard-at-work mind spits out? Hey, this is the land beyond right and wrong!

Clever, wot? But them’s the perks—and there ain’t many, honey—of being a writer. The privilege of defining your own turf, which you had fucking better well do. Be you writer or woman. Swim out beyond the breaks. Continue reading “How Can People Be So Stupid?”