Thank U, Next.

I haven’t always been so careless about the men I love.

My first serious boyfriend Mike got my name tattooed ala tramp stamp. He spelled my name wrong and was less than thrilled when I told him that Jenny meant female donkey. My Grandpa had passed that bit of logic along in hopes that I’d remain a Jennifer. I simply changed the Y to a I. Mike wasn’t so lucky. I still wonder if he’s married and named his firstborn Jenny, just to save face…Or ass?

My first love… Eddie. Sigh. Some crushes never die, and when his wife sent him out one-night-stand shopping a few years ago, I had the misfortune of being the unwitting target. Bless his beautiful heart, I hope he divorces her and makes a more honest attempt someday.Β  I don’t share my toys… and if I’m going to be really honest- we only share what we don’t want anymore.

My taste in men is my most self-destructive trait. I adore being hunted and thoroughly enjoy the thrill of swimming with a shark. I don’t worry about teeth, biting is kind of my thing. I’m intrigued when I see one I want, get all sorts of wordy when I touch one, and have to change the rating on my blog if I want to unwrap him again. When I’m silent and stuck… it’s because I’m not getting laid and I hate that more than anything. How completely basic could I possibly be.

I was in the midst of my third run of the day, contemplating ankle weights and that god-awful baby shark ab workout that had me feeling like a battered blowfish for three days… when Big Dick Tom reappeared. The unfortunate truth to holding a man’s attention these days, is to blow them off and forget they’re alive. Don’t text him. Don’t answer his calls. He’ll be hounding you in no time. I guarantee. I’ve ghosted this poor penis with legs, three times. I’m never available, don’t return his calls and can’t make an hour to meet him for a beer after he’s driven 45 minutes to “conveniently happen to be in my town for the night”. If I don’t want you? All the dick in the world can’t help you.


And they say romance is dead. Bye Tom.

Bye, boys in general. I am so disappointed in the current state of the manfolk. Did I miss the memo on aiming low? What happened to caring about the quality of person you are? I certainly have my less than stellar moments, but for the most part… I’m trying really hard to be an incredible woman.

I mean what I say. I’m funny. I cook, clean and fuck like good girls aren’t supposed to. I’m a good friend, working hard to have an incredible ass and make a perfect dirty martini. I can grow his dinner, blow his mind and knit the blanket he falls asleep under.

Just sayin…

I’m beyond a fuckboy and it takes so much more to interest me than a giant dick. GTFOH Tom and friends.

Mr. Perfection taught me that I still have to be careful when I’m falling in love with my best friends because even the longest friendship wont stand in the way of him breaking your heart. He taught me that some men take their respect for you off, along with their clothes. I learned some incredibly painful lessons that I probably should have learned a long time ago.Β  Ultimately I lost him over some particularly bad sex, and he created a need where my previously dormant sex drive had been.

Ahhhh which is when that completely unexpected Mr. Incredicock, lit my damn sheets on fire. Just when you think you know what’s up and you’re grown enough to play fast and loose with friendship and casual sex… you get your mind unexpectedly blown. I learned some amazing things from him, some of which still make me blush. More importantly, he reminded me that there are still good men in the world…and unassisted rock-hard erections. God bless him. Had I known then what I know now, I would have dealt with the fallout and made him a boyfriend so I could unwrap him every day. He reminded me of that age old double standard. If you want to keep him, you can’t touch him for a while. It’s a hunter-gatherer thing and you cannot get around it.

I’m not dating anymore. It’s just too depressing to have awful conversations with bland, unattractive men. I would honestly rather do anything else. After my week on OKCupid and the bottom feeder that is Big Dick Tom, I’m really quite content to put my fine ass back on the shelf until I have a good reason not to stay there.

Being single doesn’t suck. I’m fun to hang out with, dinner is always amazing and I can have as many orgasms as I’m willing to put the work in for. I like me,Β  I think it’s going to work out. πŸ™‚

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.Β 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 muchΒ  power there is in a Unicorn. This is a guaranteed, instant orgasm on contact. If not 2 3Β 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-Β πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ”₯πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚β˜ πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

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.