Sex - Spotazhazer

secretly hopes it rhymes with ~ Some People are Even Crazier

~ S e x u a l i t y ~
Welcome to the Land of Milk and Horny

the swift brilled hippie prepares for the mating dance - pirouetting across the crowded scene, arms overhead, appearing as overtly symmetrical as possible - he stalks his sexual prey - he has chosen the one female in the pack who is least likely to reject his advances, yet is most likely to satisfy his viceral longings - it is a fine line sometimes - covering any sense of nervousness at the approach of his imminent desire hopefully finally coming into fruition, he channels his giddy energy into pheromones to soothe her savage nostrils, while increasing his ability to move to the rumbling beat of the mating dance drums, which may change depending on local custom - he smiles - if she smiles back he may proceed calmly - this is, however, the last thing he's comfortably experienced with - while she, on the other hand, is equipped with an arsenal of scenarios collected from generations of mating rituals dating back to the first borrowed rib, and is entirely aware of everything going thru his mind, sometimes minutes in advance, depending on any fluctuating facial expressions - to tune into this, she stares intently in his eyes, keeping his cheekbones at perfect lateral observational periferal checkpoints - he tries to not stare at her boobs - "hi," he sez - she greets him back kindly, bearing her teeth, which is both a sign that she can chew food thoroughly for any produced offspring, and advertising her ability to bite his nipples off if he does the mating dance wrong - they sip their drinks - he inquires as to the nature of elixir in which she has chosen to imbibe, and offers to provide her with continued intoxication, completely free of renumeration responsibilities - this is designed to impress her that he is a substantial provider, but she is bored with that, because she hasn't paid for a drink since jr high ... ;o)

- chix dig me -

(jus makin sure yer payin attention)

Slightly Optimistic Shameless Self Pity

in me noble quest to find the perfect mate, or at least someone i can hang with for the rest of me life (you know, the usual: brains, looks, n the missing half of this golden amulet), i have found meself often quite depressed, n wondering if the one more "normal" set of grandparents i was issued, (eternally exemplifying this singularly socially acceptable idea) were either lucky or deluded - perhaps both =o?

actually, as i look back on me life, it appears at once to the educated eye that the only chix who would ever have anything do do with me, basically couldn't get anybody else (i'm goin over the list right now in me head yet again, n yep, loveable screwballs the lot of em, at least at the time) - that's not to say that they were particularly undesirable, or that i'm not particularly groovy - but as i have occasionally ventured out into the real world (once or twice) i have encountered the engendered mass populous n felt the obligatory repulsion n revulsion: as if they're anticipating me eventual evolution into something between uncle ernie n cousin kevin (also, my penchant for references to Tommy, by the Who, being more obscure n even less cool than Star Wars or Star Trek, kinda narrows the field down a bit) - so where's all the cute brainy ones? - prolly married, n half divorced by now - ah, my time is at hand =o)

optimism being vogue: ambitious heartfelt assumptions that i jus got the short end of the stick (as it were, so to speak) lead hence to perceive the possibility that sane chix do exist out there somewhere - but where? - one would hafta leave the house, perhaps destined for a nice friendly hippie bar, where aging jammers are welcome - this is an enviable anti-establishment establishment that i have long longed to pro-prioritize (build it and i will jam)

so at least now i think i know anew what kinda chick i'm not lookin for anymore, as if i ever was - i think they musta seen in me a certain sense of lonely desperation, n offered themselves up to it, often takin advantage - even the least diabolical of em were seemingly infatuated with this image of someone they thought i was, something i am not: something invented to be, or potentially template worthy of something with which they could deal, one day, if they put their minds to it; hardly recognizing the reality of the situation, the actual materials such inexperienced psionic manipulative digits were working with - see: a person (admittedly arguably) is a human being; n tho inherently flexible n somewhat maleable in nature, is not clay to be molded into a more pleasing shape =o~

again, i'm not imagining things, these are the types of chix that are interested in me - at least the ones i find out about - i have been informed of other avenues after the fact, sposedly still in tact, but having done nothing about it meself, i lost out - so whatever happened to women's lib? - yes, if yer still readin this, n still wonderin, you'll hafta be obvious - i usually assume women want nothing to do with me, which is usually the case - trust me, it is an extreme rarity a guy yells rape or a chick runs out of other options =oP

now, i'm not a chauvanist - i know how to cook n clean up after meself - i'm in favor of equal rights, but it works both ways - see: the ever slowing of the eventual disintegration of the proverbial glass celing is no excuse for reciprocal emotional oppression - i guess what i'm trying to say is that i'm a groovy guy (but bein a bitch, for whatever reason, will eventually destroy me, which is counterindicated in this case) - i'll say it again, n stand by it (if ya don't mind, shameless self promotion, wait for it) i'm a groovy guy - in fact, i will dare go so far as to say that i am the emminent n imminent embodiment (except for the body: me shoulders are wider, but i have the same chest i grew into about about age 15) of what most women scream to the goddess so high in the sky that they want in a mellow mateable man - if only i can run into one actually independant enough to think for herself, n bring herself to me lenghty attention span - it's possible - i mean, look at it for a moment - in this so-called society, wouldn't a male so sanctioned to be such a silly sensitive have eventually been beaten down to the point of self submission? - i, in my imposed social standing, am not publicly worthy of outward displays of self confidence (the popular kids would find me uppity) - so gahed n ask me to dance (not that i dance, but it's nice to be asked; maybe we can do somethin else ye like) - n there i go again proving meself a chauvanist ;oP

but lets say, for the moment, that possessing a triple digit IQ (and not the subsequent social stability to justify n therefore offset this phenomenon) is a plus in some remote dating scene somewhere on this primitive planet, some neighborhood filled with happy hippies who have heavy hinges n whole hearts - add to that my uncanny resemblance to a young Robert Planet, further lack of reciprocal multimillionaire social status, n a generally frustrated disposition; the increasingly hypothetical neighborhood in question is shrunk down to about a square inch or so - so, that should be enough to keep me on me toes, eh? ;o)

so, i ask again, where are all the cute, smart, funny ones? - are they in hiding, as am i, from the ravages of a warlike culture? - then perhaps our species is doomed - as long as the neurotics are not allowed to multiply, eventually only the feeble minded will be left in charge of things - the more ye think, the more ye have to think about - n the more ye hate to think, the more will escape yer attention - the way i look at it, better ten of them n one of me, than just ten of them =o/

as i grow older, far beyond my parents' age when i was born, it seems that time is running out for me to have kids one day - now, yes, human males are engineered to father well past warranty expiration, but i'd still like to play frisbee with the little rugrats - also, the aforementioned occasional mellow motto: "better ten of them n one of me, than just ten of them" seems to nag the evolutionary revolutionary imperative of providing the future with fresh hippies to spread peace to the masses - see: i usedta have these shrubs in fronta me house, that i'd hafta trim several times per summer, or they'd look as hippie as me hair - maybe this is what's ultimately happening to me, as i grow more jedi, the celestial shears are settin up to snip me outta sight - but will the resta the foliage ever expand outward, or is clarity a product of outward perspective, and do only the outer branches ever leaf up? - silly humans, all they wanna do is fight (pick a topic, stand back a bit) - silly human, silly human race =oP

the images of humans on this page are from a collection (that i have posted) which originated from me lookin into somethin called polyamory (from the latin, meaning multiple loves, espousing multiple spouses, or spice), which works out well for thousands worldwide (many more than feel free to announce their revolutionary evolutionaries to the world) - this is a lifestyle, which some people have chosen (or rather: been born with n happily hence refused to ignore) somewhere between swinging n mormon multiple marraiges n just to the center of new age butterfly fluttering, but far off to the left of all those closed-minded n oppressive monogamy nazis, who feed guilt into our lowly lonely loins (thus i digress) - back to basics: it recognizes the intellectual, emotional n physical need to be loved; but also that staying with only one person for the rest of yer life supresses growth, n is therefore unhealthy for most (unless, for whatever reason, yer not growing as a person) - we all know about divorces where neither party is particularly to blame, but it's for the best, no matter how great they were together in the beginning - but poly has actually saved many marriages, allowing parties involved to be more themselves, n be more fully accepted at home =o)

most poly situations are triads, usually with two women n one man, but there are many happy variations - n require the absolute absence of jealousy - ok, so maybe it's not for everybody (not yet) - but detractors do say, "why not focus all that loving energy on one person, wouldn't that be better for all concerned?" - simplistically, perhaps (if this were still a simple world), but being so selfish is unnatural, n requires constant force n even vain neediness to maintain (so maybe this millennia is still far too young for poly to be taken half seriously by most of society) - but realistically, in the interim, as long as practically everybody's gonna eventually prolly fool around anyways, wouldn't it be better to accept it as a simple fact of human nature? - this is not a question answered positively by those who consider themselves pious, n therefore faithful in their ability to maintain long term status quo relationships - but, see: we, as humans, may be evolving as an intellectual species, but that's no reason to ignore our physical nature - besides: chances are, our physical nature is more attuned to our spiritual sides, eh? - so keep yer hands on the reins, but let the horses drive ;o)

poly has come under some serious scandal in recent years, n often faces oppression comparable to the stigma still surrounding homosexuality - "what about the children?" some say; but the only detriment there is a somewhat self-involved stifling society (hey, these are loving parents, not perverts, ok?) - ultimately, if we as a species survive this technological tumultious turmoil n spiritual adolescence, most or all human marraiges will likely be poly in nature, due to the fact that we do tend to outgrow each other (well, not actually each other: more the traditional, very tightly constrained relationship with the same one person over a period of many years) - so, imagining that we will eventually become a more evolved n involved people: less spiteful n more friendly to those whom we once held closest (further imagine that you were still on great terms with all yer Xs, n everybody was cool with everything), life seems like it could work out, eh? - but until such critical mass delivers us from perpetual oppression, perhaps the new sexual sufferage is yet to be reckoned with =o?

i think i'd be much happier in some future century, where being a fellow human being is actually a plus with me fellow human beings - but i guess one thing that nailed it down for me (as it were, so to speak) that i may truly be a poly person, in nature, is the realization that i would go back with any or all of me Xs, as long as they weren't still insane - sometimes the kookier among them do attempt to make eventual contact with me, which is on the surface a testament to me own naivete, or perrennial grooviness, or perhaps both (as this further justification may potentially be paranoia) - n i do feel somewhat guilty for ignoring even the kookiest of em, but knowing em as i do, i can't think of any safe reason they might have to call =o[

so anyways, the last gf seemed to be somewhat into it, as a concept (agreeable in theory), except she shouldn't get over the jealousy aspect - logically, i'm all for it - n as utopian as it may seem, i tend to be somewhat idealistic towards its inevitable success (tho maybe from watchin too much hbo, or readin too much heinlein) - we looked into it seriously for awhile, even towards some of her friends a little bit - but when it came down to discussing it openly with em, she bail at the last minute - not that i had a whole lotta time to get to know any of the potential candidates (n i'm already gettin to old to be swinging), but perhaps that was by design - that woulda been the ideal scenario tho (every man's dream), not just a threesome, but two steady girlfriends, all in the same house together - but also it's somewhat less pressure on the guys, if n when the chix happen to turn into mutant monsters one week per moon =oP

that's really one of the main reasons why i broke it off with her (see these bruises on me skull? ... henpecks) - a buddy of mine has a wife with such deadly pms that she's become the boss of the brig, n basically runs his life by default - she calls him up at work to bitch at him for what an asshole he is, n then a few minutes later, calls him back to tell him how horny she is - i told him, "when she calls ye up to bitch, tell her yer horny, n when she calls ye up for heavy breathing, bitch at her" - i don't know how, or even if, this has worked out for either of em yet =oP

something i saw on TV recently, "she's either evil or two years old, she wants what she wants when she wants it" eases me mind to remember (despite any propaganda to the contrary) that i'm really the rational n reasonable one, whenever the X calls lookin to hang out again - but as much as she may be slightly open to poly life, i don't think any woman, who would find me groovy enough hang out, would survive a single night with her (either by nature or design) - so i stay somewhat hippie hopeful, in faith, that the way i'm designed isn't a flaw, a mal-mutation, an anomaly to be trimmed for the good of the proverbial bush - but i'm afraid i can't wholly subscribe or login to the destiny aspect of whatever random fairy tale romance we were brought up to believe in =o/

so i guess me only hope is to find a fantasy camp where fellow forgotten freakazoids frolic, n start accepting applications - she should prolly be shorter than me, n definitely weigh less (i'm 5'10" 140, n not particularly muscular) - religiously, i'm an atheist, or an agnostic, or a grand philosopher existentialist, or a budding jedi; take yer pick - i'm open to all races, nationalities, etc: personally, i'm a mutt (we tend to be groovier, calling up a wider variety of genetic suggestions n selections) - she should be smarter than most (smarter than me would be groovy too), n not at all allergic to intellectual concepts, some of which spelled out in previous paragraphs - oh, n did i mention i'm an insufferable smart ass? =oP

yeah, i know, good luck wit alla dat - in the end, it's me shyness that betrays me - people, even chix, tend to see it as either a sign of weakness or undesirability, or worse yet: that i'm not interested in them - either way, it's not like any sane woman is gonna attempt to make contact with me, not bein a millionaire yet - but i leave me screening filters on, just in case - in the words of me latest X, when i was breakin up with her the foist time, put to her that we're worlds apart personality wise, "what if there is no 'meant to be' n this is the best we can do?" (or something similar), i'm reminded of something someone else once so psychically said: something like, "i can do better alone" - so off i go, almost used to it - a sure sign that everything's gonna change soon, n somethin else is gonna happen too =o|

right - enough whining - on to the delicious definitions n diatribes (not to mention pix n further linkages) - but first, a song ;o)

meant to say

She said, "I'm not the topless model type"
in a way that implied that I should get a life
but what she meant to say, put it another way
- is, "honey, I'd love to"
"hey, whatever you wanna do"
"and then we'll take pictures of you"
- "cuz y'know I get so horny jus' thinkin 'bout you"

She said, "no, none of my friends would be into that"
as if I reminded her that once she almost looked fat (in that)
but what she meant to say, to put it another way
- is, "baby, how did you know?"
"a side of me I've been dyin' to show"
"is there somewhere special we all could go?"
- "I've got a fantasy about dancin naked in the snow"

No means maybe n maybe means yes
n yes means somethin I couldn't begin to guess
cuz she's jealous n insanely vain
- but she's all mine just the same
n if any o u mutherfuckers even look at her
- i'll run y'all over with a goddam train

But I'm not so insecure about myself
I jus know she can always run n get somebody else
-
-
-
-
-

there's more, but i ain't dun writin yet ;o)

ah, sex ~ the big warm up - cosmic atonement through ultimate relaxation by affecting the pleasure center of our brain through manipulation of genitalia ~ if only everybody got laid, as much as they wanted, n needed to ~ there'd prolly be no war, or really any need for any porn . . . . . . .

~ The Birth of Venus ~

see, now maybe it's not entirely fair ~ but, the reality of the world at large, n the stereotype is that, by far, most chix can get laid pretty much anytime they wanna (hey, wanna see a guy naked, just ask) * n also, the cuter they are, the more free stuff they can get ~ dinner, movies, drinks, etc ~ n most of the time, they don hafta even show they like you ~ n they're used to this ~ society plays em like little kids ~ n most men don't care, they jus need to get laid somehow ~ but anyone stepping outside of this mindset will prolly find themselves auto ostricised to some degree . . . . . . .

* a sexy body is prime real estate - n basically, it's a "seller's market" ~ women are told their whole lives that, besides being fragile and demure, they're valuable commodities ~ n as such, they often buy n sell themselves, n even each other =o[

so off we all go, fresh outta health class, all dopey n horney, into the wild world that's one big singles picnic when we momentarily think hard of getting closer with someone, it's often the pinnacle of our basically brainwashed existence ~ women generally being predominantly priveledged, thus they have higher n healthier hopes for the pick of the litter ~ maybe few people realize this, but guys are definitely brainwashed too, sometimes even worse (there are more women on this planet, about 60-40, but there are way more lonely men than lonely women) ~ but for them, it's usually the other way around, as they usually end up with whoever will have em, n hope they don't get bitched into an early grave ~ this only goes further to perpetuate the bossiness mentality, as children pop into the picture, thus continuing the brainwashing tradition * ~ in any case, until eventual species wide enlightenment, it's usually best to jus reassure em that they're the cat's pajamas at every given opportunity ~ besides, if you don't, they can always replace you with someone who will ~ n reality never gets a chance to cop a firm grip . . . . . . .

* naturally confident in this environment, they accept nothing less from their suitables ~ thus, in order to maintain a status quo, society must beat them down with insecurity about their bodies, by comparing them to the innapproachable ideals ~ this perpetually boosts the fitness, cosmetic and fashion industries =o|

men n especially women, from an early age, become unwitting psychological victims of the alpha male syndrome ~ the quarterback and the head cheerleader at the high school prom ~ anything less is something to be settled for, n thus depressing, with nothing in open society exactly ushering or even allowing people to evolve beyond ~ often surface proactive, but actively encouraging exactly the opposite =o/

now, not everyone takes advantage of this freaky phenomenon ~ but it is there, n everywhere, n prolly the main reason why we can't quite get it together as a species ~ for example, women are allowed to be more sexual in public ~ men usually can't wear speedos anymore, to the beach or the pool * but women can dress like dancers to a business meeting ~ if there were true equality, everyone'd jus relax . . . . . . .

*such disgusting vanity, eh? - shaving every visible hair off your body, gooping on the tribal war-paint, perfume body oils, selective undie stuffing, and generally paying more attention to one's shoes than the actual ground walked upon - none of which would ever land you any nominations for masculine example of the week - n otherwise, whenever men pay even half the attention to their sexuality that women do, it's often considered highly suspect, n they usually end up suspects of something or other ;oP

again, a stereotype, but for the most part, men are more tuned in logically n intellectually, while women are more tuned in emotionally n spiritually ~ thus, men n women are often also somewhat less advanced, respectively, in the complimentary aspects; n more aggressive and/or assertive in the path of their prefered flight plan ~ this wasn't really noticed to be much of a problem before equal rights happened ~ but now each gender is actually abandoning their particular talents with respect to the other ~ certainly by now men should be better at understanding women, n women should be better at empathy with men; as opposed to an empasse or endgame ~ instead, in this transitional period, we have the planet split in two, each insisting that the other side behave, n each insisting and / or considering the other to be less substantial ~ if it wasn't for sex, we prolly wouldn't hang out together alot, but if it wasn't for how we deal with sex, we prolly wouldn't be so fucked up in the first place . . . . . . .

~ Bath of Psyche ~

~ Another Birth of Venus ~

so basically, a few silly barellheads have spoiled the eternal applehunt ~ n polite people tend to behave themselves, n everyone usually tends to avoid a hassle ~ thus, men who have always been cool with equal rights for women find themselves punished for the chauvanism that still exists in spite of them; while the men who perpetuate the old style forms of servitude n segregation, are likewise (being bad guys) more naturally able to con who they can ~ more empowered in the modern era, women are still out there who live mainly for manly maniacal methods ~ have you what she wants n be yet deprived of what she has, you will soon likely possess either both or neither ~ but that's life in the new jungle, more concrete, perhaps, but still survival of the fittest, or most ruthless . . . . . . .

- Northern Exposure -

ED: "What do women want?"
CHRIS: "Same things we do
- only in prettier colors."

for both of these reasons, n far more freakdoms, most people generally have relatively very little contact with members of their opposite gender, n have prolly heard a healthy collection of contradictory n inaccurate rumors about em, n thus act in a way that only lends to support the false preconceptions, further widening the gap n perpetuating the fashionable frustration . . . . . . .

A little morality lesson for you bastids
I got this in an e-mail and thought I should share.

A Story With a Moral

I was happy. My girlfriend and I had been dating for over a year, and so we decided to get married. My parents helped us in every way, my friends encouraged me, and my girlfriend? She was a dream!

There was only one thing bothering me, very much indeed, and that one thing was her younger sister. My prospective sister-in-law was twenty years of age, wore tight mini skirts and low cut blouses. She would regularly bend down when quite near me and I got many a pleasant view of her underwear. It had to be deliberate. She never did it when she was near anyone else.

One day little sister called and asked me to come over to check the wedding invitations. She was alone when I arrived. She whispered to me that soon I was to be married, and she had feelings and desires for me that she couldn't overcome and didn't really want to overcome. She told me that she wanted to make love to me just once before I got married and committed my life to her sister. I was in total shock and couldn't say a word.

She said, "I'm going upstairs to my bedroom and if you want to go ahead with it just come up and get me." I was stunned. I was frozen in shock as I watched her go up the stairs. When she reached the top she pulled down her panties and threw them down the stairs at me. I stood there for a moment, then turned and went straight to the front door.

I opened the door and stepped out of the house. I walked straight towards my car. My future father-in-law was standing outside. With tears in his eyes he hugged me and said, "We are very happy that you have passed our little test. We couldn't ask for better man for our daughter. Welcome to the family." The moral of this story is: .................... Always keep your condoms in your car.

so, from the other side of the proverbial fence
the following diatribe doth disect, by sex, the tribe
first tho, i'm not any of the things listed below ... really
i'm not into sports, or cars,
or even much of a handyman
also ... i have no hair on me chest,
n i don't really sweat alot (not much)
i've been known to snore once or twice,
but i never wear a tie..... no pressure, ok?
i prefer reality to vanity please, in all cases
n tho i do appreciate most technology etc
i don't read maxim or even penthouse ;o)

Her Secret Turn-Ons by Amy Spencer From Maxim Magazine Vol. 36 Dec, 2000	and now for a cautious rebuttal from our sponsor ;o) His Not-so Secret Turn-Ons by the Mighty Spotazhazer circa: June 2002
It's time for women to fess up - we don't loathe all the things you think we do. We have been known to watch VIP. With our eyes closed beef jerky is OK. And once we started following the stats, the NBA did become a lot more compelling. But if we admitted to this, you'd try to convince us of the high drama of your Fantasy Football League. The bottom line: Most of us have long realized that some of your seemingly gross male behavior - in small doses - is actually endearing, kind of like a Tom Green Show marathon: Funny in bite-size servings. So with the understanding that you won't consider this your license to act out these behaviors daily - to the Nth degree - here are 10 things we secretly love as much as hearing you quote lines from Caddyshack for 20 minutes.	It's time for men to come clean - we don't actually like all the things you think we do. We have been known to prefer some Madonna to some Ted Nugent. With our eyes closed some makeup is OK, under special circumstances (sigh, we guess). And once we started payin attention to our wardrobe, color coordination did seem on the surface to make a little more sense. But if we tried to tell you this, you'd try to convince us that we're really involved in some psychological high drama - and prolly sleepin around with several other women simultaneously - we wish. The bottom line: Most of us have long realized that some of your seemingly neurotic female behavior - in small doses - is actually oddly interesting, kind of like a Twilight Zone marathon: Intriguing yet quaint in bite-size servings, but only once inna while. So with the understanding that you won't for a moment consider this a good enough reason to change any of these behaviors - to any degree - here are 10 things we men secretly love about women, about as much as hearing you sing along to the latest dance track cuz ya know all the words.
We love watching you pig out. How is it that guys can supersize an Extra Value Meal, order a nine-piece Chicken McNuggets on the side, and still have room for our fries? Because your big strong men whot need ot feed your big ol' appetites. "I went to dinner with this guy, and tow hours later, he wanted a slice of pizza," recalls Alex, 28. "He said, 'I should warn you. I eat six times a day.' I thought that was so sexy, I considered it a challenge to see iif I could fill him up." So, bon appetit, as long as you don't subject us to a post gorging burpfest.	We love watching you pig out. Not that it ever happens, but when it does, it's a welcome relief. How is it that chix can pass up a supersized Extra Value Meal, a nine-piece Chicken McNuggets on the side, and only barely nibble on a couple of our fries? Cuz yer all sposed to be teeny petit women, who have zero appetite. "I went to dinner with this chick, and a couple a hours later, she wanted a chocolate cake," recalls Alex, 28. "She said, 'I should warn you. I swallow without chewing.' I thought that was so hot, I considered it a challenge to see if I could out munch her." So, bon appetit, n never fear the obligitory post gorging burpfest, either.
We love it when you sweat. Here's an easy one: You can break a woman by breaking a sweat. Really. "I was dating this guy who would get a patch of sweat on his lower back when he'd do work around the house," reminisces Jessie, 28. "Seeing that would lead to sex. I'm not kidding." But keep in mind the action responsible for the sweat is almost as important as the sweat itself. Sticky from lugging our won suitcases up a flaight of stairs? Gee, your pits smell terrific.	We love it when you sweat. Here's an easy one: You can totally break in a man by breaking a sweat. Really. "I was dating this chick who would get little patches of sweat right on her breasts when she'd do work around the house," reminisces Jeff, 28. "Seeing that would lead to sex. No shit." But keep in mind the action responsible for the sweat is nowhere near as important as the sweat itself. All moist n sticky from the AC bein out, or jogging all over the neighborhood? Whatever.
We love how you collapse right after having sex. Nothing compares with hearing you heave a sigh - as though you've survived a trancendental ride on a sexual centrifuge - and hearing you say, "Wow, I, uh, I just need a few minutes here..." Kara, 26, remembers one guy who fell on her stomach with a soft thud. "Seeing him like that made me feel like I had really gotten the job done. He even drooled onto my stomach a bit-that's when I nudged him awake with my elbow." Just keep in mind that if you totally pass out on us, we might nudge you out of your slumber not so sweetly - with a bucket of ice water.	We love how you collapse right after having sex. Nothing compares with hearing you heave a sigh - as though you've survived a trancendental ride on a sexual centrifuge - and hearing you say, "Wow, baby, that was the absolute best..." as if you really mean it. Kurt, 26, remembers one chick who fell on his stomach with a soft thud. "Seeing her like that made me feel like I had really gotten the job done. She even drooled onto my stomach a bit - that's when I nudged her nipples back alive with my tongue." Just keep in mind that if you totally pass out on us, we'll prolly head into the kitchen for some cold pizza.
We love it when you expect us to be a car-fix-it guru. If all we knew about cars we learned from you, we'd think autos only suffer from ailments in three areas: The radiator, the carburetor, and the fan belt. When you stare at the engine for 10 minutes, that's almost always your diagnosis. Even when you haven't a clue what's wrong (and that cute crinkle of concentration forms on your forehead, giving you away), you declare authoritively-carburetor. This display of tough guyness will work as long as you take the car to the station for a second opinion. Crinkles are only cute when we're not stranded on the highway late an night because you didn't think to check the oil.	We love it when you expect us to be a car-fix-it guru. It's great that you have such confidence in our ability to rescue you - but if we all knew about cars, they wouldn't ever break down. When we stare at the engine for 10 minutes, we're trying to remember our early childhood lessons on such things - payin special attention to three main things: the radiator, the carburetor, and the fan belt. It's obvious we haven't a clue what's wrong (and that cute crinkle of concentration that forms on your forehead, like we're busted, please) - but recent experience proves that it's always the carburetor. We'll take the car to the station for a second opinion, as soon as we find one not run by con artists. Crinkles are only cute when we're not stranded on the highway late an night because you didn't know that the oil light is blinking for a reason. But that's OK - you'll feel guilty about it for weeks, and we'll get more sex.
We love to witness your testosterone taking over. Despite our protests, we do like it when you drag us to the occasional guy event. There is something sexy about watching the hair on your chest grow, Teen Wolf-style, as a haze of testosterone evnelops you. "One guy took me to a hockey game. Yuck," says Tammy, 29. "But two blastic barrels of beer later, this guy is rooting for the teams to fight. It reminded me of how I love men because they are the absolute opposite of me, so I found it a turn-on." Caveat: They're called spectator sports for a reason, guys. Your nose looks so much better without a pack of our mini-tissues stuffed inside to stop the bleeding.	We love to witness your estrogen taking over. Despite our protests, we don't mind so much when you drag us to the mall. There is something sexy about watching you gather, as if we've been out hunting all week. "One chick took me to JC Penny's sale. Fuck," says Tommy, 29. "But two horrific hours later, we're in the lingere section of Sears. It reminded me of how I love women because they like to wear clothes designed to remain on for like 3 minutes, so I found it a turn-on." Caveat: They're called "fuck-me-pumps" for a reason, girls - n yer ass looks so much better without a pack of mini-pads stuffed inside to stop the bleeding.
We love it when you can't tie your own tie. You fellas spend so much time telling us how well you can handle zillion-dollar accounts at work, and yet left to your won devices, you'd be closing those deals in a Guns N' Roses T-shirt dating back to the Reagan era. When you show a little helplessness, it makes us feel indispensable-and that's a good thing. "My boyfriend in college had some lasagna in his freezer from his mom," remembers Catherine, 29. "But to cook it he threw it in a pot of boiling water. It was so dumb, I had to hug him." But beware of becoming a dependent idiot. Remember: She's your girlfriend, not your mommy.	We love it when you think you hafta tie our fuckin ties. We handle zillion-dollar accounts at work all week, and come home to find the most complex configuration of vanity accessories ever devised by any living creature - but what happened to our Van Halen T-shirt dating back to the David Lee Roth era? When you show that much dedication, it makes us feel like sex is gonna happen - and that's a good thing. "My girlfriend in college had clothes from junior high school and makeup handed down from her mom," remembers Colin, 29. "But one night she expressed boredom at my one pair of good pants. It was so lame, I actually had to hug her." But beware of becoming a domineering bitch. Remember: Yer our girlfriends, not our mommies.
We love hearing you snore. Yes, we enjoy watching you lie in bed with your arm curled up around a pillow, your boxers twisted halfway around your ass, and a zoo soundtrack broadcasting out your nose (though we could do that without the one wafting from your butt, thanks). Believe it or not, we feel honored that we get to witness you in this unconscious, natural-and somewhat gross-state. Just don't take this as you cue to adopt the beached-mammal lifestyle permanently. That won't do.	We love hearing you snore. Oh, yes - we do enjoy watchin you in bed with your panties twisted halfway up your ass, and yer nipples vibrating to the zoo soundtrack snarking outta yer nose (though we could do without the two wafting from your butt, thanks). Believe it or not, we feel humbled witnessing you in this far superior, tho unconscious, natural state. Just don't pretend that you're not also capable of the beached-mammal lifestyle. That won't do.
We love how you love gadgets. Funny how you have a pile of power tools in the garage, even they've only been used-maybe-for sawing soda cans in half. But the way we see it, this excitement is the closest we'll get to seeing what you were like as a kid. "I finally relented and got my boyfriend this toy robot he was just dying for," explains Nancy, 26. "I've never seen him so excited. He played with it all night. Then I played with him all night." Just don't let your doohickey love get out of hand and cause you to neglect us. If you do you might find yourself in need of another, less high-tech, toy--a blow-up companion.	We love how you hate gadgets. Funny how you have a pile of power tools in the bathroom, even they've only been used to look better than your girlfriend at work. But the way we see it, this excitement is the closest we'll get to seeing what you were like as a kid. "I finally relented and got my girlfriend this vanity mirror she was just dying for," explains Nick, 26. "I've never seen her so excited. She put on makeup n did her hair all night - then I played with her all night." Just don't let your goopy vanity birthday cake fetish get out of hand and cause you to neglect us. If you do you might find yourself in need of another, less high-tech toy - batteries not included.
We love when you hug the guys. OK, so maybe hugging is the wrong term, but those high-fivin', chest-bumping man acts are as close as you guys are going to get to an embrace. We see though your trying to sidguise an emotional moment with a lot of "whoo-hoos." Don't let this revelation freak you out: There's no fear you're taking the affection too far. That's because "too affectionate" for you is still only as close as we're likely to let the creepy guy at the gym get to us.	We love when you hug the girls. OK, so maybe hugging is the wrong term, more like rubbing and bouncing n petting n touching (sigh). We see though your trying to disguise a sexual moment with a lot of "boo-hoos." Don't let this revelation freak you out: There's no fear you're taking the affection too far. It's still the closest most guys are going to get to a group thing.
We love the secret squeeze. Generally, women don't appreciate having our body parts grabbed and gnawed on like a bison in the hands of a caveman. But we do like you to occasionally cop a concealed feel. It reminds us that you find us sexy. "I love it when my guy and I are standing at a party, and he'll come up next to me and give my butt a pinch or brush past my breast with his arm," says Laura, 30. The key is subtlety: Please don't let your friends see you do it, or else we'll call you "Pookie" and give you an Eskimo kiss in front of them.	We love the secret squeeze. Generally, men don't like having our balls grabbed and fondled by the hands of a cavewoman - not in public, anyways. But we do like you to occasionally cop a concealed feel. It reminds us that we're gonna get sex. "I love it when my girl and I are standing at a party, and she'll come up next to me and give my butt a pinch or brush past my arm with her breast," says Larry, 30. The key is subtlety: Please don't let your friends see you do it, or else we'll ask you if we can do it like we did it last night, and invite them to at least watch.
And In the NOT so CUTE Corner
Your bathroom floor is always wet. It's a phenomenon caused by a) your not closing the shower curtain properly, b) your not grasping the function of the bath mat, c) your peeing all over it when you mis the toiled. How about d): Dry the goddamn floor?	The bathroom floor is sposed to be wet. Your not grasping this simple concept is a phenomenon caused by a) your not getting enough sex, b) your not getting enough sex today, c) your not getting enough sex in your lifetime. - or how about d): dry the goddamn floor if it pisses you off so much?
You dig into dinner without us. Guys, here's the thing: Women really love rituals. So wait fur us, then chow down. We want to share the moment with you-and hear that General Foods International Coffees theme song bubble up in our heads.	Yer late for dinner. Goils, here's the thing: Men really love to eat - especially when we're hungry. So chow down. The ritual is life itself - n no big deal. Widen yer perspective a little.
You don't care if a girl's rack is real or not. As if women aren't under enough pressure, here's another reason for us to fret. Since when is "real" and "spectacular" a disadvantage?	You think we don't know those aren't real. As if men aren't idiots enough, now you patronize us with water balloons. Since when is "saline" and "silicon" a sexual advantage?
You like us better when we dress up. Of course we love the "o-o-o-hs" and "a-a-a-hs" when we doll ourselves up. But deep down we'd rather have you tell us that we look completely gorgeous whe we're wearing a mud mask and an old muumuu.	You like us better when we dress up. Of course we love the "o-o-o-hs" and "a-a-a-hs" when we tux out - but only for about 2.3 seconds, then we get embarassed - please stop. But see, it's only because we'd really rather wear jeans and a baseball cap. We prefer you casual too - but the mud mask and old muumuu are just plain silly.
You take more than 20 minutes to get ready. Yes, peace treaties have been signed faster than it takes a woman to prep. But you're a guy. You're supposed to be able to dress in your Sunday best in the time it takes us to apply our lipstick.	You take all day to get ready. Peace treaties signed? Bibles have been copied faster than it takes a woman to prep. Then you bitch when it takes us longer than the 20 measley sporadic minutes you allot us while you break for a smoke or last minute phone call. Unlike you, we don't dress in our Sunday best every day - or even every Sunday. We forgot last year how to put these silly medieval costumes on.
Your hairy nads. We're not asking you to shave them -- as a stubbly pair is as bad as a hairy one -- but, taking this into account, please thank us profusely when we choose to give them the Popsicle treatment.	Your hairy patch. We're asking you to shave everything - yes, either everything or nothing - you'll thank us profusely when we give ya the Klondike Bar treatment.

right ~ well, try to take that in good humor
(or hagen daas, ben n jerry's, baskin n robins, etc.)
so there's this long ass list of things that chix hate guys for
cuz sposedly only assholes ever do em ~ but ye live n ye learn
so along comes a guy who's lived n learned to not do these things
n even find it repulsive himself ~ naturally everyone thinks he's gay
~ or even worse, they fix you up with their disgusting freaky friend
who's just fallen hard from a doomed "forever" relationship
cuz in their eyes, "you two are made for each other"
n when it doesn't work out, for some reason,
we're the reason why all men are pigs
~ but that's not sposed to matter
not to real men, anyways
ah, you figure em out

women are like dogs - in that, every once in awhile, sometimes ye gotta take em out just for the hell of it, let em sniff everything in sight, check out everyone's ass n crotch - but if ye forget, takin em out then will not be enough, it's too late .......	cats are like women - in that, every once in awhile, they'll look at you with this glimmer behind their eyes that lets you know that they know something you don't - something only other cats know, and this instinctively makes you nervous .......
dogs are like men - in that, every once in awhile, if you look at them long enough they'll either become totally submissive, or attack you - this varies with the breed of dog, and the person staring .......	men are like cats - in that, every once in awhile, they'll bring in something that's either dead or all chewed up, play with it a little bit before laying it at your feet - n then expect ye to be all impressed .......

Further Proof

Intercepted Message ~ May 26, 2001

"Dry Your Tears & Get Over Him"

Men Disoriented by Astro Alignment

Men are easily distracted, forward thinking creatures with short attention spans. The secret to changing their aloof attitude towards you is in the stars! The planet Uranus is the cosmic cause of many disruptions and sudden changes. It has been slowing down in the skies and is about to shift into retrograde motion. When Uranus shifts gears, men tend to go through a mild case of confusion that any woman can use for long-term gain. If you know the birthdate of the man you want, your astrologer can see when and where the big shift in his thinking is going to be. You will want to time this one as precisely as possible. The stars are working in your favor this week to make men everywhere get on their hands and knees in servitude to their queens. But this stellar movement is a rare occurrence, so be sure to work with an astrologer to perfectly time your seduction.

The 9 Types Of Girlfriends

1.	Ms. Nice Gal
"Tickets to the boxing match? Oh darling, you shouldn't have."
AKA:	What a Girl, Precious, One of the Boys, Doormat
Advantages:	Cheerful, Agreeable, Kindly
Disadvantages:	May wise up someday.

2.	Old Yeller
"You spineless good-for-nothing no-talent SOB! Can't you see you're making me fucking miserable?"
AKA:	She-Devil, Sourpuss, The Nag, My Old Lady
Advantages:	Pays attention to you.
Disadvantages:	Screeches, Throws frying pans

3.	Sickly
"Oh, my head. My head. My feet. My cramps."
AKA:	Whiner, Mewler, Grumpy
Advantages:	Predictable
Disadvantages:	Contagious

4.	The Boss
"Stand up straight. Put on a different tie. Listen to me. Get a haircut. Change your job. Make some more money. Don't give me that look."
AKA:	Whipcracker, Sergeant, Ms. Know-it-All, Ball and Chain
Advantages:	Often right
Disadvantages:	Often right, but so what?

5.	Ms. Vaguely Dissatisfied
"I just can't decide. What do you think I should do? Should I switch my career, goals, home, or hair color?"
AKA:	The Fretter, Worrywart, Typical, Aw C'mon Honey
Advantages:	Easily soothed
Disadvantages:	Even more easily perturbed

6.	Wild Woman
"I've got an idea. Let's get all pissed drunk and make wild monkey love on the front lawn. I done it before. It's fun!"
AKA:	Fast Girl, Freewheeler, Unconscious
Advantages:	More fun than a barrel of monkeys.
Disadvantages:	Unreliable; drives off cliffs

7.	Huffy
"I see nothing at all humorous in those silly, stupid cartoons you keep snickering at."
AKA:	No Fun, Humorless, Cold Fish, Iceberg, Snarly
Advantages:	Your friends will feel sorry for you.
Disadvantages:	You will have no friends.

8.	Woman from Mars
"I believe that this original interpretive faerie dance will truly explain how I feel about our relationship... today."
AKA:	The Babbler, Spooky Girl, Screwball, Loony, Bad News, Artistic
Advantages:	Entertaining, Unfathomable
Disadvantages:	Will read her poetry aloud.

9.	Ms. Dreamgirl
"I am utterly content with you just the way you are, my handsome, interesting, sexy, genius of a boyfriend. I want to make love to you like a crazed weasel all night long!"
AKA:	Ms. Right, Goddess, Knockout, Perfection, The One
Advantages:	Funny, Intelligent, Uninhibited
Disadvantages:	Will have nothing to do with you.

- um, huh? -

(further aggravated attention)

What to do when she sez, "I love you."

this is a question that has plagued mankind for aeons, n one where we're almost always proven unprepared - the only phrase comin close to the big three is the big two: "i'm pregnant" (but that's another story altogether) - basically, you have several choices

RUN - this doesn't always work, but it's sure worth a try - once they drop the big 3 on ye, it's pretty much all over with - if ya get a good head start, n catch a good headwind - ye might get back to a point in time before ye met - in that case, yer best bet is to retrace yer steps as closely as possible, wait for the fateful moment, n try n say it first - either her eyes will well up with tears for the serendipity of it all, or you'll scare her off - either end results likely being the best for the given situation, depending on the chick
SAY NOTHING - this is very much like selection 1, but usually guarantees a shorter lifespan - to dull the impact, you can try to stall for time, but do act surprised - try sayin it back to her as a question - maybe this'll help ye get used to the idea, one way or the other - try sayin it like so: "you love me?" - careful here, try to emphasize it like yer contemplating the definition of love, an elusive concept, often good for a few seconds, but rarely much longer - or, even better: "you love me?" - this is putting her on a pedestal for a moment, implying that you think she's too good for you - ten seconds tops - next, there's: "you love me?" - interesting, plays to the possibility of other parties involved - sometimes a good distraction maneuver, but unless there's qualifying circumstances, this could be potentially disasterous - also: "you love me?" - another potentially disasterous emphasis phrasing, this time with the variable on yerself (warning: highly personality dependant) - and if yer still alive, there's always the classic "you ... love ... me?" - say it slowly, savor the words in yer mouth like cherry cough drops, as if yer contemplating the existence of it all, in all its glory, which is always good for points - but watch it carefully, it could backfire (this one actually worst of all, among chix with a marginal sense of humor) - mix n match - have fun with em, insert yer own personality, but try to avoid too much "wow" and "aha" unless yer poetic license is totally up to date n stamped with her official seal - hopefully before ye run outta combos, you'll have thought of something else - good luck, romeo
SAY IT BACK - the most popular of all selections, but also has the most drawbacks - from then on, every time she sez it, you'll hafta say it back - it's kinda like a pavlovian bell - if she sprang it on ye in bed, especially post coital, usually this is the only available option for ye - sorry, man

a final supplementary option may be to break it to her gently that men don't exactly comprehend love the way women do - this is how i handled the cautious event with me last gf, but by then she was used to me philosophical ramblings, n had so become psychically prepared for the inevitability that i shall immediately go off on some comical yet logical rant - i'd tellya about how it went with previous chix, but i can't remember that far back ;oP

How to fuck up a relationship

from Alt.polyamory FAQ - the first supplement

The preceding list of answers to questions about polyamory is not a guide to how to have a working polyamorous relationship, although we have strong anecdotal evidence that the tools mentioned are useful in all sorts of relationships, mono and poly. We do, however, have the following guide of carefully tested methods for making mistakes in polyamorous relationships. With proper application and ingenuity, these methods may impair or destroy monogamous relationships as well; they're truly multipurpose tools. We post this listing for your consideration; no liability expressed or implied.

Lie. This is basic and effective. To maximize bad results, lie about something important to the other person(s) and arrange to be caught in the lie in such a way as to produce maximum shock. Additional stress points awarded for keeping the lie going for a while before discovery, which increases the disorientation and sense of betrayal in the deceived person(s). Lying about sex gets double points. Lying about being married gets triple fuck-up points. Creative lies of omission (i.e. "not telling") with fancy rationalizations and condescension get gold stars.
Avoid self-knowledge. This is more elegant than strategy 1, as it combines a bold sweep of denial with sorties of distraction aimed at oneself. This tactic is most effective when combined with tactics 3 and 4. Self-destructive or addictive behaviour has also been found very effective in avoiding self-knowledge by our researchers. When combined with an endearing attitude of helplessness, this strategy has been proven efficacious in attracting "rescuers" or "white knights" on whom one can then practice strategies 4 and 3, in that order.
Blame the other person(s). If anything went wrong, hey, it must be their fault, right? This eliminates the need for messy things like communication and negotiation, which can be embarrassing, particularly if one is using strategy 2.
Disclaim responsibility. This is a little more complex than strategy 3, and often includes what is referred to as "codependency". The classic way to play this strategy is to cater to the partner(s) involved while repressing one's own desires and questions. This allows a good head of resentment to build up, and one can justify anger by saying one has done so *much* for one's partner(s) and gets no thanks, etc. In its most refined state, this strategy makes the other person(s) responsible for setting the direction, pace and content of the relationship, for which one can them blame them if one's own expectations or needs are not met. Using strategy 2 to avoid knowledge of these expectations and needs gets double points.
Push. This is an art, albeit a crude one. When augmented with strategy 6, pushing can achieve spectacular negative results in even a short time. Remember, when pushing, only *your* satisfaction counts! It's a dog eat dog world, and you're a pit bull. Emotional and mental bullying can be as satisfying as old-fashioned physical coercion, and not nearly as easily prosecutable.
Play on insecurity. This is an old favorite. Using sexual insecurity as a weapon and combining this with strategy 5 is a four-star winner. Attempting to control one's partner(s) by manipulating them through their insecurities is a sure-fire fuck-up tactic. It's so much more delicate than simply beating them up, too, though the resultant emotional damage can be remarkably similar.
Avoid intimacy. This may seem paradoxical; after all, we're talking about getting up-close and personal with as many hot bi babes -- er, ahem -- we're discussing achieving satisfyingly close relationships with a number of people, right? The trick of avoiding intimacy can be performed in several ways, but the easiest is to confuse intimacy with "rubbing slippery bits together". Substitute the words "sex" and "love" for each other often in conversations. Repeat the mantra, "If you loved me, you'd know what I want." Practice strategy 8 assiduously, supplementing it with strategy 2. According to the needs of the moment, figure out whether action or words are more likely to be ambiguous or misconstrued, and go with what gives you the most plausible deniability later. Some exceptionally talented individuals manage to give the impression of being intimate while successfully remaining stone-cold. Study sales techniques for pointers. People with good "lines" fall into this category, especially if the lines include explanations of how they truly *value* the other person.
Don't talk. Talking has been known to lead to communication if practiced carelessly. Communication will seriously impair your fuckup progress, and in certain cases will halt or reverse it entirely. If you *must* talk, use cliches and quotations from popular songs as much as possible, or fall back on strategy number 1.
If all else fails, make a safer-sex agreement with your partner(s) and then break it, contracting a communicable disease about which you do not then tell them. Double points for avoiding all discussion or negotiation of sexual matters entirely so that the "agreement" is wishful thinking and completely deniable. For a coup de grace, add strategy 6 and tell them it wouldn't have happened if they had been satisfying you like they were supposed to.
For the ultimate meta-fuck-up, remain technically faithful to your partner while breaking the spirit of whatever agreement you have whenever possible, keeping this knowledge bottled up to ensure maximum fear, shame and resentment. Some people win the grand prize with the figleaf-and-stinging-nettle cluster for self-inflicted suffering and wasted potential by managing to keep this strategy up until death do them part, concealing from their spouse the fact that they have been shamming happiness all these years.

If, at the bottom of this webpage
it occurs to ye that i'm a little long winded
so i must not be gettin enough sex
to know what the fuck i'm talkin about
- click the pic ;o)