Big Dick Tom

It’s been another insanely high traffic day around here and I’m feeling a little naked. My email has been screaming at me with comments and pingbacks. I logged in this afternoon only to see that stupid Ok Cupid has charged me for another month.

ARGh. This is what they do. I should have checked… so I go in to delete it permanently, and see a message from the guy I’d been talking to & left hanging a few weeks ago…

I shoot him my number and tell him I’m deleting the dumb app, and get an instantaneous response.


For the record. They all think their dick is amazing. Men are the quintessential opposite to women. Even the tiny fellas think their little peanut is stellar… and sometimes even more so the smaller it is. Tom just turned 30 and I would be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling guilty for being 12 years older than him.

The next text comes in like a baseball bat. Literally.



No big deal. Just a red hot, armed assassin. I have so many questions. What do you even do with that? I know a few of my favorite things are completely out of the question. I’m dying to know if he gets light headed from the blood loss of getting an erection, because DAMN.

I suppose now is as good a time as any to admit that I’ve never really cared much about size. I can think of two that stand out as noteworthy in regards to size, and neither were there for my favorite orgasms.

From my experience:

Small is horrible. No amount of nice character traits make up for how utterly disappointing it is. Sorry, these are facts. Short and fat beats long and thin, any day. Pencil peen is a deal-breaker. The chance of an orgasm with this one is between slim & none, and Slim left town. For the record, Slim would never be invited TO my town.

Average is what we’re used to seeing 99% of the time. He’s learned to do whatever fun things he can to make his average member, exceptional. I’ll take an inspired average dick over a lazy large one, any day. I’m guaranteed to get there in 5-7 minutes if he’s lazy, but average guys rarely are.

Just like billion dollar lottery tickets, occasionally the heavens open up and God throws out a unicorn. Big dicks are the unicorns of the single world. Gay or straight, it’s a very nice surprise. It’s akin to winning the bonus round of the dating lottery. They aren’t usually attached to the nicest people though, because men learn really fast how much  power there is in a Unicorn. This is a guaranteed, instant orgasm on contact. If not 2 3 4?

There are some places only a Unicorn can take you to.

I looked at the picture of his massive member a half dozen times before calling the Songbird.

J- Hey. I have to send you something, but I want you to apologize to the boyfriend for me first, and I have to prepare you for it.

S- 😂😂😂🔥😂😂😂😂😂☠😂😂😂😂

S- ☠☠☠

S- Holy fucking dick.

J- Right?

S- Eeek. That would rearrange everything. You could only do that on a Friday so that you could be able to come to work on Monday.

She’s right. This is special occasion dick unless you’ve always wanted to know how those cheap, hollow chocolate bunnies feel. I’m really lucky when it comes to being easily satisfied, so I feel like I don’t need a sure thing.

But here we are, faced with the eighth wonder of the world and I have questions.

He’s quick with the dick pics and dialing. I’ve already saved him as “Big Dick Tom” in my phone and am struck by the fact that this is the first guy to actually call. I’m excited to ask him some of these things.

BDT- Hey doll. I’m Tom. How you doin?

Oh no. He’s east coast saucy and I have visions of violent ice hockey to add to the lengthy menu of fantasies this sweet boy brings to the table.

Confession: I have a soft spot for hockey players. Nothing inspires me more than a bunch of big, strong men, beating the shit out of each other for the puck. It’s the only sport I love more than football.

Same goes for that accent of his. He could just whisper “Boston” a few times and I’d be all set. There’s something about those princes of Maine, those kings of New England.

BDT- I wanna see you naked.

This new dating stuff is tough to work with. You see his dick five minutes in, and if you’re game- he could be at your house within the hour.

But I’m more Crock Pot than Instant Pot and I learned a valuable lesson from Incredicock. I’m ok with casual sex, HOWEVER; I am not content to be told when I can have it. This is a two way street and I need to be able to pick up the phone and order a half pound of cock when the mood strikes me. That’s the WHOLE reason you settle for casual.

I’ve learned some contemporary dating lessons with training wheels and now I just have to apply them to Big Dick Tom.

Pray that I live to tell the tale.




I was grateful for the radio silence from Mr. Grey yesterday. Sort of hoping he’d just fade away into the city like any other dismal date I’ve had.

I hate awkward silence though, and I’ve realized something in losing a very good friend recently.  This whole ghosting trend is some grade A bullshit. If you’re adult enough to interact with society, you can use your grown up words and tell someone when you’re not interested. Having been on the receiving end recently and feeling horrible about it, I have to be mature enough to tell him I’m not going to be around for date 5.

He started asking about my day, wondering if it’d been bad since he hadn’t heard from me all day.


Look at me. Using my words and shit. I revoked his text-tone. No whistles for boring boys. He was quick to confirm I was right.



Awwwww sweet relief. No hurt feelings and no more celibate dating. Thank GOD. I’m offended on my little lady’s honor but he was never going to meet her anyway, so it’s sort of a moot point. Definitely need to clear up one thing though.


Ew. Ugh. Yuck. This is why I gave up men to begin with. No matter how nice you think they might be? They’re all thinking of fucking you.

Sidenote: WHY in the hell does smart= arrogant? Is it really so much to ask for a man that can spell AND be a decent human being? We had a tense conversation about homeless people the other night.

G- I never give homeless people money.

J- I always do.

G- So your money bought their overdose?

J- I’m ok with that. I’m not homeless and I can’t imagine how scary and cold that would be. If my $20 buys him a burger or drugs, at least life is a little better for a minute.

G- I donate my cars to the mission, which goes a lot further, and I don’t eat…..

See? Arrogant and elitist. Something that also goes hand in hand with rich guys. Give me a dirt poor, genuine man, any day.



Not really interested in diamonds though because that was my last bit of helpful advice. I don’t have a lot of faith in the shopping or selection abilities of a man determined to die without the nirvana of a cheeseburger. The funny thing about dating when you’re older and have more of your shit together, is that you’re absolutely going to weed out a few duds based on these sort of trivial details.

Cigarettes only get more disgusting as time goes by, and I’d hold my breath and walk away from something really beautiful if it came with a fog of nicotine.

Men who don’t walk women to their car in a dark parking lot after having invited them to said parking lot, are not good guys. If he isn’t concerned about your safety getting home, it’s because he thinks you’re a sportfish, not a trophy.

I urge you all to read Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man. By Steve Harvey. It’s the man bible. The cliff notes to the penis folk. Listen to Steve. Steve is preaching the gospel truth in those pages and you will THANK ME ETERNALLY. I bought a copy for my 68 year old coworker and she bought a bunch for all her friends, too.

“fishing, my philosophy is that men will treat women like one of these two things: a sports fish or a keeper. How we meet, how the conversation goes, how the relationship develops, and the demands you make on a man will all determine whether you’ll be treated like a sports fish—a throwback—or a keeper, the kind of woman a man can envision settling down with. And the way we separate the two is very simple, as I explain next. A SPORTS FISH . . . Doesn’t have any rules, requirements, respect for herself, or guidelines, and we men can pick up her scent a mile away. She’s the party girl who takes a sip of her Long Island iced tea or a shot of her Patrón, then announces to her suitor that she just wants to “date and see how it goes,” and she’s the conservatively dressed woman at the office who is a master at networking, but clueless about how to approach men. She has no plans for any ongoing relationships, is not expecting anything in particular from a man, and sets absolutely not nary one condition or restriction on anyone standing before her—she makes it very clear that she’s just along for whatever is getting ready to happen. For sure, as soon as she lets a man know through words and action that he can treat her just any old kind of way, he will do just” 
― Steve Harvey, Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man, Expanded Edition: What Men Really Think About Love, Relationships, Intimacy, and Commitment

Buy it. Actually, buy 2. You’ll want your best friend to read it too.

The weather is getting cold and I’m in no mood for fishing. I deleted my dating profiles, dug out my knitting & put the down comforters on all the beds. On this blissfully silent night, I’m not loathing my quiet phone, I’m celebrating it. Being single for 6 years has made me really content to make that 10, instead of working to change it.

Who knits? Wanna knit with me instead? I’m making something very special for a dear friend who lost her little boy and it’s slow going with tears in my eyes. If anyone wants to join me, let me know 🙂