Lo Siento.

So I've kind of dropped the ball on the whole Monday Funday thing. Sorry. I've just really not been able to sit down and just gather all my thoughts and all that other shit. I've been working 24/7 because I've been trying to get a new car, since my lovely piece of shit '97 Honda can barely reach 80 mph without wanting to pull over on the side of the road and die. Not that I'd ever be driving 80 mph because that would be speeding and speeding is wrong. Anyway, let's see if I recall the next letter would be [D]. So onward hoe.

[D]: Doggie Style.

Probably one of the most used positions, besides missionary. Why? Because it feels fucking fabulous. Some people would disagree though. Why? If you've ever seen, Knocked Up, Katherine Heigel's character refuses to let Seth Rogan's character fuck her doggie style because she didn't want to get fucked like, you guessed it - a dog. His response, it's just the name of the style. It's not like you're an actual dog. Probably one of the best quotes in a movie EVER.

To all those people out there who are against doggie style, they're usually the girls who insist on ONLY fucking missionary, ugh perhaps you'd enjoy it if you pulled the stick out of your ass, or in some cases pushed it in further. I've always been able to cum in this position, and most men have a hard time staying in this position very long without cumming themselves. It's easier for most men to pump fast and [the] furious while a girl is on her knees, it provides a fantastic beachfront view and if the girl leans forward with her ass up, the cock slips in oh so nice and oh so mm mm deep.

All those of you for doggie, ya'll feelin' me on this one? For those of you against, ya'll really need to start thinking outside the box and for those missionary-only ladies, start thinking about your box.

That's Why the Lady is a Tramp.

Sorry for the long absence. I've been battling the flu.

I've been on quite a few dates, even in my weakened state. Several of them have just been shoot-the-shit kind of dates, a few have been very nice and I was starting to think -- I'd finally hit a streak of good dating juju. And then there was Shannon. She and I went on 2.5 dates. I say .5 because at the middle of our third date I just had to break it off, right then and there. She kept harping about this and that. I was holding my fork wrong, I wasn't sipping soup out of my spoon properly, I wasn't raising my pinky when I was drinking out of my glass, etcetera etcetera. She was complaining about how her friends were all so ignorant and how she felt like she was so much smarter than all of them, and that she knows all of her friends are jealous because she is smarter than all of them. Then she was going on and on about how she's good at this and that, how she knows that everyone just loves her and yet she's just this regular normal girl. And after an hour of listening to her kiss her own ass, I just needed to get the fuck out of there.

Here's how it went.

"Please, just stop. Seriously. I can't do this. I just can't. You're a nice girl, just ask yourself. So I don't even see how you're going to care that I can't and don't want to see you anymore. I mean, you have all these people in your life who according to you are borderline obsessed with you and all sorts of men and women just pining after you, that I know you'll have no trouble finding someone else to worship the ground you walk on. So, have a nice life."

Yes, I did pay for dinner. And no I didn't just leave her at the restaurant, she had driven herself there. On my way out, the waiter tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Dude you're like a saint. I would've left within the first 5 minutes."

End of Story.

[C]: is for Chode.

Now there is some dispute as to what the chode actually is. Some people say it's the piece of skin between the weenie and the sack. Some say it's a doo-dah that's wider than it is long. I'm going to go with the latter for this post.

Some people seem to think that the longer a cock is, the better everything is. Ladies and Gents, I'm here to tell you that that is a bunch of fooey and you'd have to have a screw loose to believe that. Now, now I'm not saying that length isn't a wonderful thing. I'm just saying if you happen to see a cock that's not so tall but nice and stout, don't run the other way. It can be an absolutely delicious thing.

Absolutely delicious indeed.

Frizen Foller.

[B]: Butt Plug.

Nate the Great. Ah, Nate. There's a reason he was given the nickname he was given. This wasn't just a nickname I deemed him either, this was a nickname deemed to him by approximately 25% of the female population at the college we went too. Nate was 6'2, solid solid solid muscle, blonde haired and blue eyed, had the whole full pout model lips thang goin' on and the Great. Oh. Oh. Whew. The Great was 13 inches long and whoa wide. I did indeed just shudder out of sheer delight and fond hot and spicy memories. For being so solid and masuline and testosteroney he was incredibly limber. Thank god I'd let my trainer at the gym convince me to do pilates and yoga, otherwise I'm pretty sure I'd be in some sort of rehab program today. He liked it frontways and sideways and backways and longways. Shortways and moreways and floorways and in doorways. But he longed for the buttways. Que?

One night we were discussing sexual fantasies and he said he'd love to have anal sex. I was all like, What? The Great has never had the poop chute? He looked over at me with sad little puppy dog eyes and said that he'd been in a butt once for all of 2 maybe 3 minutes at the most. It was with the very first girl he'd ever had sex with. He said he'd turned her over to do some doggie and he uh thought he was choosing door number 1 but barged through door number 2 by accident. 13 inches in a virgin butthole with no lube my friends. Say it with me, OW. 

That's stuff you see in a porno not in a dorm room. I asked how he'd managed to stay in for those 2 - 3 minutes, and he said he'd mistaken her screams of pain for screams of pleasure. He wasn't the brightest of the bunch, poor thing. I'm sure he would've kept going if she hadn't screeched at the top of her lungs, You're fucking ripping my asshole apart, get the fuck out you jackass! I have a weakness for incredibly gorgeous men, with incredibly ginormous dicks, with incredibly blue eyes that can go all Puss in Boots on ya without warning, and the lips and the muscles. Oh the MUSCLES. Needless to say after hearing his story I made sure to give him exactly what he wanted. Yes. I led him upstairs, whipped out my newly purchased butt plug, which by the way was a total impulse purchase. Honestly though, could you resist purchasing a glow in the dark butt plug? I didn't think so. A nice large and in charge bottle of lube and after some minutes of pre-anal stretching, let the Great do his thang. Now I'm not bragging or anything because I know I'm not the BEST SEX on Earth, but the Great followed me around like a little puppy for ALL of his senior year and we, the Great, the plug and I had a GREAT fucking time.

I'm Sorry, What?

What did I do today? Well. Woke up in the morning and played with my clitty. Put my ass cheeks on the floor, come on pinch those titties.

If the porn industry ever decided to go mainstream with their music that song would so be a hit. I had a date tonight. It went -- uh what's a good word for horribly wrong? She was cute but not gorgeous, curvy and had an extremely whiney voice. Minnie Mouse had nothin' on this chick. And she kept checking her phone every 10 minutes. What made it even worse was she was checking her facebook because she wanted to see if her ex-girlfriend saw on her status that she was on a date with another girl because and I quote, she's so like over her, but she's so like not over me. At that point and time, which was about 20 minutes in, I was ready to potty poof. You know, Excuse me I have to go to the potty and then POOF.

Unfortunately I'm not that big of a bitch, and I was feeling guilty for even thinking of ditching out on this chick, so I sucked it up bad conversation and all. When it came time to order she ordered a water, 2 glasses of wine, a softdrink, a salad and soup, an entree and dessert ... I suppose I only have myself to blame since I clearly must have been giving off the I just got paid today vibe. Anyway, after dinner and dessert and coffee this chick is all like yawn how about we go back to my place? And I was actually thinking about it until I realized that she'd probably tape it, and then upload it onto facebook so that her ex-girlfriend could see it. I politely declined. I walked her to her car, opened the door for her and when she went in for the goodbye kiss I shook her hand instead. She called me a prude, slammed the door and sped off. I said, you're welcome to the back of her car. God help the next person she dates. Yeap.

Mars 1. Venus 0.

Monday Funday.

Who the hell am I kidding? Every day is a fun day when toys and sexual fantasies are involved. But because I don't want to make myself out to be this horny fucker who doesn't think about anything else but fucking and vaginas and dicks and dildos and butt plugs and facials and flavored lubes and threesomes and foursomes and double-pentrations and -- oh my. Who am I kidding? I am a horny fucker and I really don't think about anything else but all those delicious things. Speaking of which, would you excuse me please? I have to go and change my panties.

[Doo doo doo doo]

Where was I? Oh right -- every Monday Funday, I'm going to share my thoughts on a favorite sex toy or porn star or lubricant or sexcapade. Don't you do that already SJ? No my friends, Monday Funday is sexcapades from A to Z. That's right. I'm hoping this will help me really focus on a topic. ADHD is a good thing when you're participating in a sex marathon, but when it comes to every day life it's kind of debilitating.

[A]: Anal Sex.

The first time I had anal sex was actually the first time I ever had sex. The first time I had sex I was 17 and he was 27. But hey I mean in 10 years I'd be 27 and he'd only be 37 so I mean really, it's not that big of a difference. I suppose you're all thinking that I was way too young, but to be honest, I'd been thinking about getting laid ever since I was 15. So really I think I exhibited some self-control by waiting those 2 years. Well self-control and the fact that my little girl is really picky. Oh sure I'd done things but never uh let the ship dock at the station, if ya know what I mean. To this day, mind you I'm 26, my first time with my Orgasm Angel is in the top 5 of the best lays in my book of sexcapades. And as surprised as I'm sure you all are, I've got a pretty solid novel goin' on here.

And Myth Becomes Reality.

Welp Ladies and Gents. Yesterday the unimaginable happened. I made myself squirt [and] it wasn't just a teeney little squirt it was like fucking Niagara Falls Mother of All That is Holy squirts. I have never not been able to cum. Another fabulous Samantha once said, Hunnie. When I RSVP to a party, I make it my business to come. But this was no ordinary party my friends. No. This was like going to the Oscars and getting one of those gift bags that's worth more than your life. Thank you Timmy Ho. And if he never calls again, I shall not only think of him fondly as an asshole, but as a demi-sex-god.

Fuck You Mother Nature.

Tim called me today. Tim? Tim Who? Oh. Tim. Right. The Tim who called me weeks ago, told me to call him, call him I did, answer he did not and then didn't call me again up until today. Well he called me and asked me if I would liek to hang out tomorrow. My first thought was to respond with, fuck off but then I really thought about it and realized, my little girl is in dire need of a good lay and Tim is just that.

So I said to myself, Sammy let's put aside all the girlie bullshit feelings of whatever and just "hang out" with him. I replied with a probably little too much of an enthusiastic, I'd love to fuck you tomorrow. He didn't say anything for about 2 minutes. I can't be sure if he was shocked at my knowing the purpose behind his call and the fact that I had the audacity to call him out on it, or if his brain wasn't functioning correctly due to the sudden lack of blood. Well, in the top head anyway.


BUT, now tomorrow is completely off. Why? Oh, well Mother Nature decided to be a cockblock and pop my period on me 3 days early. Fanfuckingtastic. Fucking twat. Pfft. She is so off the Christmas card list this year.

Journey to Mars, Venus and Back.

Seeing as how I'm really at a point in my life that I just don't have any aspiration to settle down or be serious with anyone or anything, I feel as though perhaps I should take advantage of this while I can. I've decided that for the next 6 months or so, I'm going to date as many people as possible, both women and men and blog about the differences between the sexes, within the sexes and the plus and minuses of having sexes with the sexes. Yeah, I'm goin' balls out. Oh and vaginas too.

Thanks St. Anth, I Owe Ya.

So, I lost my cute little hot pink vibrator, and hadn't been able to find it ANYWHERE. I couldn't very well go call up my Mother and say, "Hey did I by any chance leave my vibrator at your house when I was there? I've been really horny lately and sometimes a hand just doesn't cut it." I checked my pillows, my bed spread, the closet, my sex toy drawer. Yes, I do indeed have a sex toy drawer. What resides in that drawer? A 12 inch flesh colored dildo, yeah I uh went black and never could fully go back, but I still got love for my white mens. Especially the firecrotches.

Mm, firecrotches. DROOL Actually, speaking from personal experience, all red heads seem to be blessed with really large cocks.

A tickler for my g-spot, however I have yet to have a mind-blowing orgasm with it, a vibrating blue dildo, which actually is broken. Cheap plastic. You know I have this theory about the sex toy industry, and how they found a way to implant some sort-of chip that is hardwired or something to break the shit after 2 months. Yeah that's why it broke. It had nothing to do with hours and hours of non-stop vigorous self-fucking. And then there's some massage oils, KY his and hers, which may very well cause a fantastical climax for people, but don't ask me, because I was too busy thinking my vagina was going to fall off because that shit fucking burned. Is it supposed to? Why do I still have it? I'm a glutton for punishment, and because if a fuckbuddy is pissing me off I like to rub it all over their balls and see them squeal. Yes. I was a dominatrix in a former life.

All the toys are buried underneath a green stuffed frog. Great camouflage, eh? I thought so. But yesterday, after moving my bed, because it dawned on me after a week of freezing my ass off, that my bed was blocking the heat vent ... Guess I didn't look hard enough because it was right in the corner under my bed. I actually came a little in my pants out of sheer excitement. Time for some wicked orgasms, oh yeah. Hope I don't get a serious case of vagina elbow from too much masturbation. HEY, it only happened once. I've since learned to take a break after 2 hours of continuous masturbation. So. There.

So It Seems.

I suppose it would be morally wrong to write that when I was 15, I wanted desperately to be a porn star.

Wait, before you go all self-righetously judgey on me let me just say that I had a damn good reason. I was making $5 an hour babysitting little stuck-up cunt children, and seriously what can you buy with 20 bucks? Save my money? Yeah right. You obviously don't know me at all. Well, okay so you really don't, but now you know that the word budget is nowhere in my dictionary of life. That 20 bucks was burnin' a whole in my hand. Yeah, it never even made it to my pocket. What on earth was I buying? Well like any dumbass diluted teen with a popstar infatuation; I was buying magazines, posters, videos, concert tickets, cd's of the Backstreet Boys and later NSYNC because I truly believed that if I showed what a dedicated fan I was I would end up marrying one of them. Yeah, I didn't even care if it was the ugly one, the gay one, the creepy old motherfucker with the braces, the other gay one ... whatever. If I couldn't get a hot one, I figured I'd be able to seduce them later. I was also buying candy cigarettes, because they made me look SUPER COOL.

Yeah, looking back I now realize I was an absolute fucking moron. I spent thousands of dollars on that shit. Dude, if I had just saved all that dough I'd have been able to pay off my student loans and buy a nice, non-foreign, non-gas guzzling, expensive car that wasn't a piece of ghetto ass crap. Don't get me wrong, I love my little piece of shit whip, except for the part where it rapes me of what little money I make in repairs, because heaven forbid any of the parts be made in AMERICA.

But I used to look through the ginormous pile of HUSTLER of one of the cunt kids' Dad's that I babysat had, and I would fantasize about being every man's wet dream. Yeah, even the disgusting fat ass truck driver. I wanted those redneck motherfuckers to idolize and worship me. I wanted to be able to own a HUMMER (pun not intended) by the time I was 16 and drive around liek a bad ass. I wanted to show all the twats and bastards in my class that I wasn't the loser they all made me out to be. NO, I was the fucking shit and they'd all realize that when they happened to come across their father's PORN stash and see me on the fucking COVER that I was indeed THE BOMB.

Ass From the Past.

Tim called me about a week ago, out of the clear blue sky. Infact, I actually didn't even have his number programmed in my phone anymore, nor did I recognize it when it popped up on the screen. I suppose that's a good thing, considering I knew that number so well I could call him even if I was in a coma. He was just calling to say, Hi, and wanted to know how I was doing and blah blah blah. He's doing fine and he and his Unit are getting sent to _____ in a few weeks and he doesn't know how long he'll be there and yes he is one of those people that just goes on and on and the only way to demonstrate such a fine character trait is to write it as a run-on sentence and he'd really like to see me before he goes away because he really really misses me and like he said before he doesn't know how --------.

DUDE, JUST SAY IT.

You want to get laid. Fine. Whatever. I'm game. To his credit I will say he is an amazing fuck. Two-thumbs way, way up.

But don't feed me some bullshit about how you actually care about me and miss me and all that other shit that you don't really mean. I'm not about to remove you from my major asshole shelf and put you back onto my well maybe he's not such a bad guy shelf. He was on my I want to marry this guy shelf, but lost that spot when he called me a fat whore and told me that he didn't want to date me anymore because he didn't want to date anyone and then proceeded to have five girlfriends right after. Oh, but he made room to fuck me in between each girlfriend, so I suppose I shouldn't feel to unwanted.

Will I meet up with him? Like I said before, fine. I'm game. I haven't gotten laid, if you don't count my glow in the dark vibrator, in about 2 months. And seeing as how he'll be leaving shortly, there's no real danger of me starting to fall for him again.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Right.

Woke up this morning to a text from Ang (518) I miss you. Yeah, I'm sure you do. I played your vagina liek a violin for hours, but you broke the rule babe and once you break the rule finis.

Rule? I have one rule when it comes to my partners and that is, if you want an open relationship, fine. I'm completely 100% open. Literally. All you have to do is tell me. But if you want a committed relationship, don't cheat on me. I think that's a pretty easy rule to follow. Don't you?

At first, Ang and I were just friends who occasionally made out with each other, and then we were friends who occasionally fucked, and then Ang and I started talking outside of the booty call hours and she started to want to do all of this girlfriend-girlfriend stuff. I told her I wasn't looking to be in a relationship and she said, a little too quickly now that I think about it, that it was fine with her and she could "deal". A few months into our "relationship" though, she gave me this ultimatum, either we commit to each other or she's leaving for good. First off, ultimatums are not sexy and they make the person look hm like a douchebag. Which is exactly what I told her, and then ugh she started crying. So of course, now I felt like a huge asshole and I didn't really know what to do. It wasn't the little sniffle sniffle crying, it was like the full-blown bereaved widow who's ready to jump into the casket sort-of wailing. She wouldn't stop. The only thing I could think of to get her to stop was to fuck her until she passed out. And, stupid me, I thought that after the multiple orgasms she had, I'd managed to fuck her retarded and she'd forget about it and everything would go back to just being chill. Nope. The minute she woke up she was on me like white on rice, Did you think about it?! What's your answer!? I need to know?!? NOW!

Now, I've been in this situation before, except I've been on Ang's end. Of course, this was way back when, when I actually wanted to be in a relationship and I actually believed in true love and all that other nonsense. So I thought to myself, first mistake right there - thinking - maybe this'll be different and maybe this could turn into something serious and maybe this will get her to shut the fuck up. So I said, "Okay" and for 6 months it was going pretty good. I didn't even mind that she was starting to leave ALL of her shit at my apartment, and basically just invading all of my personal space that I so much prided on having before. We were becoming pretty close. I wouldn't say I was in love but rather in like with Ang, and that is a pretty big step for me considering I vowed never to be in a relationship EVER AGAIN.

And then all of the sudden, just like the winds change right before a big storm, Ang started becoming all agitated at just about damn near everything, starting fights for no reason, and spending a lot of time with an old friend, Jen, from highschool, who was having a lot of trouble with her boyfriend. Texting her at all hours of the night, constantly being on the phone with her, ditching me to go and be with her and to tell you the truth I didn't mind. In relationships past I used to get jealous and scream and cry over the tiniest things, but a whole lot of good that didn't do me. After my umpteenth failed relationship I just was able to remove all that from myself. Don't ask how because I honestly have no idea. It just happened, one day I woke up and poof emotions gone. But even the unemotional have their limits, and my limit was Ang wanting to go and move in with Jen after her boyfriend dumped her, ironically right after Ang forgot to renew her lease on her apartment, because she was afraid Jen would hurt herself and she couldn't afford to keep the apartment by herself.

Yes. You can all see where this is going. And I guess you can all see just how dumb Ang thought I was.

I asked her flatout if she was cheating on me which lead to more wailing. If any of you have ever been cheated on and confronted the cheater about it, you've probably heard a variation of the following, "I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. [Insert Name] and I, we started out just as friends, and then it lead to something more. Honestly, we didn't start sleeping with each other until much later. You and I, we're just so different. I thought that our differences would be something that complemented each of us but ... We don't like ALL of the same things and we don't even have the same friends. I really didn't plan on this happening. I'm so sorry. It's me, it's all me. [Insert Name], loves me in a way that you don't and I don't think will ever be able too. I'm so sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was to hurt you. Please don't hate me. I'm so sorry."

I suppose I could've called her a slut and slapped her, or threw all of her shit out the window, or started screaming until my throat was hoarse, or started sobbing hysterically and doing all that other girly shit but I didn't. I just calmly asked her to take all of her shit and leave. As she was packing her things, more than half of which were things I had bought her because she couldn't afford to buy any of it, she kept mumbling over and over, "I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me." Truth of the matter is, if she'd just up and told me she was falling for someone else, I would've been really happy for her. And she was right, I couldn't love her the way that she wanted to be loved at the exact moment she wanted it, but I don't know about the not ever being able too part. And that part I mean in general because I used to be able to love anyone at the drop of a hat, which was basically my downfall in the end of every single one of those relationships. It's funny how you think you learn something from one failed relationship and you try and apply it to a new one, and it so ends up not applying to that relationship at all.

As soon as the door closed behind her, I changed the sheets, and went about moving everything over, closet, bathroom, etcetera. The next morning I woke up in the middle of the bed, and right then and there I knew I was going to be okay. It's not that I wasn't hurting, no matter how many times you get cheated on, it doesn't get any easier to get over. But I wasn't going to sink into that deep depression like I used to let myself get into after a relationship ended. Ang kept texting me (518) Are you okay? Do you hate me? I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please don't tell everyone about this. Can we be friends? I just didn't answer. It's not that I was being bitter or trying to punish her, I just really had nothing to say.

Once you cheat on me, we're done. I want nothing to do with you. Now look, I'm no Angel and I'm fully willing to admit that. I have done things that would make a Priest throw up, but I have never ever cheated on someone. She stopped after about 3 weeks and I thought that she'd just given up, but then she texted me about a month after (518) Jen dumped me. She's in love with someone else. Now I know what you're all wondering. What was my response? I could've said (585) KARMA IS A BITCH. But I didn't. I didn't say anything actually and she didn't say anything after that. Up until last night I hadn't heard from her in about 4 months, and you know I really wish that we could go back to being friends because we had a great friendship, but I know it's not possible, because she'll want to be a couple again and I could never date her ever again. The trust is completely gone and no matter how many times she apologized or tried to prove herself I just wouldn't be able to believe her, and if there's no trust in a relationship there's no point in being in one.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Long, Long, Long Ago.

When I was younger I wanted to be a boy, a veterinarian, a movie star and a dog. Today I am older, not a boy, not a vet, not a movie star and not a dog. Ah well. My Mother always used to say, If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. I always used to wonder about that because, honestly, if wishes were anything for beggars, wouldn't they be like booze, money and prostitutes? Horses? Come on. That's for like 4th grade girls who write notes and fold them into complicated boxes and triangles that a tomboy, such as myself, never received because girls had cooties and I certainly did not want those. It might also have been because I was such a huge loser no one wanted to waste 9 hours out of their life making me a triangle note. But I digress.

Girls to me aren't as icky as I thought they were way back when. Well atleast not icky enough to stop me from dating several. And seeing as how I'm now slightly grown up I think it's only proper that I start to use more adult language ... Girls aren't icky they're just severely fucking annoying.

I suppose if you really are one of those people who need to label me, I'm bisexual, but really I'd like to just think of myself as not picky and very open-minded. Girls. Boys. Vaginas. Penises. Pohtaytoe. Pohtahtoe. They both come with a ton of pettyness and needyness that involves you spending a lot of moneyness, demand a shitload of your time and energy and sanity and bring with them annoyingness and lyingness and cheatingness and all that other shitness. Hrm, now I'm starting see why I didn't get that job as a relationship advice columnist.

Don't get me wrong I've dated perfectly sweet and innocent people, but it's usually right after I dated perfectly horrible and evil people. So I'd be a bitch to the nice people because of the bad people, get dumped soon after because I was being a bitch to the nice people, then be all like boo hoo because the nice people dumped me. So then I'd change my ways and vow to be a nice person for forevahevah, let the bad people walk all over me and get dumped after the bad people completely used me, and then I'm a jaded bitch again and mean to the nice people. Yeah. This is the circle of life partners.

As of right now, I'm single and I wouldn't say I'm loving it but it certainly is freeing. I don't have to worry about pissing anyone off, hurting someone's feelings, I don't have to rush to lose the 10lbs I gained over a holiday bingefest, I can just be me. Sometimes I get lonely and really wish that I had someone, but at the same time I suppose I'm grateful for my sanity. So as of right now, sanity trumps loneliness.

And that's all I have to say about that.