Monday, August 30, 2010

The Boys Are... In Krakow and London, a Photo Essay Conclusion

It's somewhat rainy Monday and I'm feeling too lethargic to write anything substantial but I have been meaning to do this and I've been home for 3 weeks already, so I'll let the boys speak for themselves this time...

The end. A huge thanks to Poland and England respectively. Now where in the world are the boys in Winnipeg at?!

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The Boys Are... In University Dorm Rooms (Naturally)

Since Dukes shared her story, I figured I'd share mine. It's not nearly as epic, but it's still pretty funny and not really sexy in any way at all.

I was 17, and my best friend from junior high had recently been at my house to watch a couple zombie movies and subsequently had forgotten his psychology text book. He was living in the dorms at the University at this time, so we arranged for me to bring the text book by and play nintendo-64 or whatever you do in a dorm room that's about the size of a prison cell.

Before I go on, I should mention that although we were really close in junior high, we'd somewhat lost touch throughout high school and then ended up making out (for hours, it was a bit of a disgusting display) at graduation because I thought he was moving to Ontario and never coming back. He came back. We had also gotten kind of drunk during our zombie movie marathon and made out then, so obviously I had some expectation that something was going to happen in his dorm and I thought ahead enough to get waxed just in case.

So, I got there, we played mariokart (I think?) and then decided to watch Requiem for a Dream, because it was either that or The Cube (he'd only had 2 DVDs at the time). Now, if you've seen Requiem for a Dream (if not, I highly recommend it), you know that it's not exactly the sexiest movie of all time but it's not like that matters when you're 17. We start making out, get naked, and as Jared Leto shoots up we... (I don't have a good innuendo that relates to shooting up unfortunately) on his single bed which I would fall off of more than a few times in the following months that the tryst would continue.

The boys are... IN GRAVEYARDS!?

Okay, so I have a story.  It's really the only story I've got but it's a good one.  I think...

Recently was my one year anniversary of the last time I got some action.  Like, any action at all.  A year.

As someone who has needs but is bad at making things happen, I turned to the internet for a little help.  I was successful at creating an honest profile and advertising myself, but most of the responses I got were from MUCH older men, married couples, or freaks.

One evening I checked the inbox and noticed I had received a message from one guy who was 35.  35 is 13 years my senior, but did I care?  Obviously not.
This dude was commenting on my pictures and my interests and seemed very excited that I rode a bike. 
The guy and I messaged back and forth for a while and then agreed to go for a bike ride that weekend.  He gave me his phone number and left it up to me to contact him.  I appreciated this.

I called him that Sunday night and suggested we meet up and go for a bike ride with some wine.  Maybe I was a little naive, I thought this was a nice way to get to know someone new and did not really expect it to move as quickly as it did in such a short amount of time.  He obviously had expectations. Whatever.

So we decide to meet in front of a graveyard that was equal distance from both our houses.

I got there shortly after 11 and stopped outside the gate.  After a minute or so I hear a "psst! psssst!".   I look into the graveyard and notice a figure approaching me.  I wheel my bike inside and he locks it up to his.  We sit down on the steps of a mausoleum and take a good look at each other.

If you have ever met up with someone from the internet then you are probably familiar with the type of once over that happened situation.  All you and the other person are thinking is "How closely does this person actually resemble the person they depicted themselves as online." 
Graveyard guy looked nothing like the pictures I saw.  I mean, yes, the pictures he sent me were maybe a little blurry or were taken from "artistic" angles...I would never have recognized this guy on the street.  He also had a super gay sounding voice...I don't know how else to describe it.  To give you a mental image, he looked like a plus size Jason Schwartzman but without the quirky something that everyone likes.

From the look he was giving me, I could tell that he was not interested in a bike ride.   I realized that the only way I would be able to get through this was to pop open my bottle of wine and quickly partake.  I did just that with impressive warp speed I didn't know I possesed.

He suggested we take a stroll around the cemetery.  Fine.  As he was talking I realized that I recognized his grating voice from somewhere.  I mentioned this and we quickly realized that he had been a guest lecturer in my grade 11 film class.  He really liked this, as I was able to see from tent forming in his pants.  I guess the whole Teacher And Student thing on top of the whole Strange Girl In Graveyard thing was a big turn on.

He suggested we dance.  This was so stupid. 
His idea of dancing was similar to that of a boy in 10th grade.  He proceeded to grind himself against my leg like some sort of sex crazed dog while on top of some poor dead person's grave.  I managed to convince him to continue walking.  He then got this great idea that he hoist me up on top of some giant raised tomb thing.  I barely managed to escape that one.

We finally made it back to the step of the mausoleum, him with a raging boner and me with my top half off from him pawing at me.

Things escalated from there and in front of the mausoleum, amoung the graves of those long past, he and I consummated our short cemetery romp.

I woke up the next morning with leaves in my hair and my dress on backwards. 

I had made it home by 1am and collapsed directly into my bed.  My ass and legs were a horrific sight, covered in mosquito bites that wouldn't heal for what felt like eternity.  I could barely believe myself.  I stood in front of my bathroom mirror looking at my messy self and laughing because that was an evening I would not soon forget.

I will now leave you with a song that a friend of mine sang to me shortly after I told her what had happened.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

A Letter To The One Who Made Me Weak In The Knees

To The Man With The Ironic Mullet,

It could have been the hair, or the bad 70's tie, or the dirty Chuck Taylors ... you made me swoon.  You may have noticed my coworkers laughing at you, but I was melting.  I could barely contain myself when you were looking at the books at my work and I tried to strike up conversation.  I fled quickly, regretting my move immediatly.  I tried to strike up conversation with you over your choice of books, The Gas We Pass, but I stumbled over my words and looked like a fool.

I would like to see you again.  I frequent the Cavern and Lo Pub if you feel like stopping by.  Maybe once I have a few drinks we can skip out on the whole bar scene and find a nice cozy corner in an alley or something ... not to say that you're that kind of guy, just that I am that kind of girl.  Just sayin'.

So, see you around, I hope.



Thursday, August 12, 2010

Listen up!

Listen up potential lover boys, I have a tip:

My lovely young co-worker received a bouquet of hand picked flowers wrapped in chic zebra print paper today from her delinquent, punk rock boyfriend.  He is only 19 but knows that showing up in person with flowers makes girls melty and thankful.  This kid is smart because he probably knows that he is going to get some crazy hot action tonight.

Do this, because in the words of Martha Stewart, who is always right, "flowers are a good thing".

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

The Boys Are... In Toronto Pearson International Airport?

Give me a ticket to anywhere and I will miss my connection through Pearson just to sit and watch the delicious man-candy, I swear to god. So impressed.

Saturday, August 7, 2010


So I am obsessed with this wicked awesome blog that everyone should read because this girl, Alexi, is full of wisdom: IMBOYCRAZY.   Seriously, read it, love it, live by it.  This chick is good looking and funny and writes about sex and boys.

On this blog Alexi writes something called The Blind Leading The Blind and it is very important that you read ALL OF THEM.  I cannot stress how important this is!  They may seem kind of jokey and whatevs at first but they may hold the key to why no one likes you.  Just kidding! (Except not really)

Here is the most recent one, please look for my commentary in the *.

the blind leading the blind (part 46)- special ‘for dudes only’ edition (part 1 of 2):

1.  confidence is key! i cannot stress this enough! an unsure, all over the place, topsy turvey, confused, weak dude is not sexy. own your shit muthah-fuckah! know who you are. if you aren’t a master of something, at least be a master at being you! Jesus!
*Duh.  Very important, shouldn't even have to be said.*

2. be creative when coming up with date ideas. you never know; if planned properly, you could end up at the driving range with a bottle of champagne or making out in a park, also with a bottle of champagne! share an epic experience that will make both your lives more interesting!
*You know those conversations that are all "What do you want to do?" "I dunno...what do you wanna do?" and they go on for forever.  Just go home.  Stop trying.   What a waste of time.  It doesn't have to be hard, above are two great ideas.*

3. fuck like you have a big dick, even if you don’t.
*This is probably the best advice I have ever heard.  You fuck like you have a big dick and I will fuck like you're someone cooler.  Just kidding!  You're OK!*

4. call her on the phone, at least SOMETIMES!!!! if you REALLY want to see her, if you really want to make sure she got your text, if you REALLY MEAN IT- call her.
*Kay, except don't call too often because then I will probs get sick of you super fast.*

5. have a job you love and are passionate about that pays you well.
*I don't care what you do for a living as long as you don't bitch about how broke you are.  I don't fucking care.  That makes me want to shake you until your brain dislodges.  Let's see you make money now, loser.*

6. dudes! stop driving with your knees! I never see girls doing this! why do you do this?! What the fuck are you trying to proves anywayz! it’s scary and unnecessary!
*This one is dumb.*

7. choose your gear wisely dudes… wisely! all it takes is some stupid pair of shoes or embroidered flappy jean pockets to make a girl walk in the opposite direction. try not to blow it before you even open your mouth! and when you do, it should be to eat her pussy! what? too far?
*This is so true!  Something as little and dirty nail beds, yellow toenails, or anything Ed Hardy is a major turnoff.  Guys need to be more savy and observant.  Read blogs or stop taking fashion advice from Jersey Shore or something.*

8. no backhanded compliments as a woo’ing tactic, but sexy sarcasm is great.

9. dudes, wash behind your ears. it smells like mildew back there! especially if you wear a hat or glasses or BOTH! YOU can’t smell it, but we can! Same goes for your privates! Use apricot soap EVERYWHERE!
*No chick wants to run into smegma or smegma-like substances.  That is some nasty shit.  Learn to shower you dirty freak.*

10. be amazing in bed! be confident, and TOTALLY eat her pussy! be a master at getting her off by sucking on her mother fucking pussy! and don’t just suck: lick, tickle, flick (with the tip of your tongue), kiss, and slowly/deeply stick your finger inside her. MAKE A WOMAN COMING IN YOUR MOUTH YOUR MISSION! IT WILL MAKE YOU VIRTUALY INDESPENSABLE AND GIVE YOU EPIC WORD OF MOUTH! i promise!
*Some girls don't like this, which I don't get.  I like this very much.*

11. size matters, but gurth is more important than length. AND IF BOTH ARE AN ISSUE, PLEASE REFER TO #10.
*Please refer to #3 as well.  But mostly #10.*

12. don’t walk around with your arms crossed. that’s some serious bad body language AND automatically implies you’re a pussy.
*Ahaha.  I have never gotten along well with anyone who does this.  This is caused by a severe case of Douchbag.  There is no cure.*

As you can see, this chick has some very sage advice to share with you.  Show this to your lame boyfriends so that they can realize all the things they are doing wrong.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

The Boys Are... In Winnipeg?

They come around sometimes, you just have to look for them. The rare breed that wears proper clothes to work, and matches his socks to his pants. Beware however, they are most likely to be religious and therefore more likely to be married (these people have standards after all), have questionable sexuality or a personal dresser (read: their mother). Not to put these nicely dressed men down, they are to applauded for their efforts, even if they've been fake baking.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Beach Babes?

Kay, so you know how one of the things you do at the beach is oggle all the hawt menz? WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY?!

Grand Beach is tres lovely and all (except for when you're in the shallow parts and it feels like you're wading through pee because the water is so warm) but where are the attractive guys? Every single one of the guys there looked like they escaped Jersey Shore or something. And those guys two towels over who left their food unattended and the seagulls attacked it? LITTERING IS NOT SEXY! Clean up your damn mess! Just because you weren't the one who scattered that crap everywhere doesn't mean it isn't yours to deal with!

Pause and breath.

Okay so then we went to Oak Hammock Marsh and there was a shortage of guys there, as in there was only one guy there plus some oldies. The one guy who was there was OK. His prison tattoos were somewhat attractive and his butterfly net added a bit of whimsy to his outfit. I'm not really picky. He fished out a snail for me while I was critter dipping in the marsh (so fun!). I should have gotten his number. I need to not be such a dork.

Michael and I in front of the sex contraption. Michael is not the sexy black smith. Actually just ignore Michael.

Last week, or whenever (who actually cares when?), some pals and I went to Lower Fort Garry.
I learned that the fur trade was awesome, how to make walls out of limestone, how to write old tomey looking letters, and that period clothing turns me on. The black smith had on some saggy-but-legit looking pink cords and a paisley shirt. To be honest I would not have paired the two together but when he did chin-ups in the door frame and showed us the contraption they put bulls in when they attach their shoes, I almost lost it. I wanted him to put me in that giant swing-looking thing and take me right there!
I kept my cool though, because he seemed kind of bored and awkward.