Sunday, May 29, 2011

The Big Bash

My last night out in the big city and I go party hopping around town, allocating all of my funds to taxi's instead of booze, because obviously everyone should just be feeding me alcohol all night.

Party #1
I walk the six blocks from my apartment in super high heels, I am walking up to an apartment building and there are tons of people on a balcony. Of course thats where I am headed, and they look pretty promising, even from seven stories below. I only know two people there, so this is kind of my opportunity to meet people. However, it didn't take long for me to notice that as attractive as some of them are, all of them are from the suburbs. This makes networking pretty much useless. I flirted with this guy (with a bag of wine he had taken out of the box) forever just to find out that he was from the other side of the country! Useless! So I left. Maybe that was a bad idea.

Party #2
Also filled with people I didn't know, but this time it was more on the homosexual side. Which is fine. I met some guy who had a fun accent so we talked to each other in opposite accents. British people have terrible Canadian accents. There I had some amazing shots, not to sure what was in them, but they were a nice shade of peach and they were bubbly, so I had a few. I find out that one of my professors may have hooked up with on of his students! So scandalous and wrong. I want in on that action.

Party #3
I pull up in a cab to house surrounded by a mass of people. Meet up with some friends, one who was at party #1. By this point I really have very little recollection of what happened. I stood out side, talked to some people, took to some pictures, talked to some guy with a beard. Beard's name was Ross, I am pretty sure he had to ask one of my friends what my name was. This was after I started making out with him because he was boring. Some guy beside us exclaimed "thats so romantic!" so I had to stop. Because obviously it wasn't romantic at all. At this point I had lost my friends and they came back and we head off to the park. I don't want Beard around, but he just decides it's good to follow along, maybe because there was a bag of shrooms. So me on the park bench filled with boys. I don't want to toot my own horn, but every guy on that bench wanted in my pants. One was my hook up buddy, hie best friend had told him he wanted to hook up with me before his friend did, I had just made out with Beard and the last one kept on giving me hugs and saying "I am going to mis you so much" while digging his face into my neck and kissing me a little too friendly like...

How do I choose between all these winners? Well since they were all tripping on shrooms I had the pleasure of taking the neck kisser home. I call his sexy cousin to come down to the lobby of their apartment and pick this mess of a man. Should have gone up with his cousin, the only one that wasn't shit faced and when I gave him a hug I got the sense that he had a pretty nice chest underneath that shirt.

Good bye big city and hello simple small town boys!

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Dear Men

Please read this article.

It is about how to properly finger a lady.

Ignore the shitty choice of words such as "clitty". Never use that word.

Today I woke up feeling like I spent the last week riding a bicycle. As in, my vagina hurt.

I was with a gentleman whose idea of fingering is thrusting his fingers in and out with so much gusto that he was esentially punching my vagina.

I will email him this article.

Unfortunately there are a couple of other things I will also have to address:
1. When kissing me, don't try to see how far your tongue goes down my throat.
2. Please do not lick my asshole. Also, please keep your fingers out of there. It makes me feel like I have to poop.

The thing is, there are these cons. BUT I am not done with him yet. We haven't fucked yet this time around and I can still get some kicks out of him. He is the sweatpants of sex, afterall. Not much to look at, but comfortable. And he lives super close.

I would also like to point out that this is the 69th blog post.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Where the Boys are in... San Francisco.

Well, to be honest, I didn't completely figure it out myself. I was there on business and really just had three evenings after 6pm to even attempt and figuring it out, which really amounted to almost nothing. What I did luck into, however, is a charming little bar in the Financial District (on Kearny between Sutter and Bush) that goes by the name of "Rickhouse":

Huge liquor selection, spanning probably 20 feet and another 20 to the ceiling. The bartenders climb on ladders to pick one from time to time, and they specialize in classic Southern drinks (Mint juleps anyone?) made with fresh fruit and ingredients and no artificial sugars. The layout, as you can see, is completely beautifully dark mahogany bourbon-soaked wood from floor to ceiling. So charming.

The real charm, for myself anyway, is that the bartenders are decked out like it's the 40s (and so cute!), we're talking button down shirts, slacks, suspenders and page boy caps with their ties tucked into their shirts. Hot? So very.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

For the Sake of Research: Abstinence

Last week I was at a party and got super drunk. No story there, this is not really that unusual for me. The wonderful thing about my life in this city is that for the most part my girl friends don't know my guy friends, so when I hang around my guy friends it's usually me and a harem of men. Well more like a stinky rented living room filled with boys talking about sports, but who am I to complain. This party in particular was at a ritzy apartment high above the city and flowing with booze. I am a habitual flirt; I can't stop talking, I can't keep my hands to myself and I can't stop once I get started. So the drink starts rising to my cheeks and I am flirting with Cute Boy NON-DRINKING boy. I find out he is coming to my hometown for the summer so of course I offer to take him out on the town. I leave a little room for the idea that maybe we would hook up. I think I ruined the mystic though when I had to ask him what his name was, even though we've met before. With that chance ruined Mr. Hook Up walks in, so I ditch Non-Drinker because it is impossible for me to resist the urge I get when he comes around. Not that he is attractive at all or that he is smart/interesting/rich etc. but because I know that I have a chance. And that is really all that matters.

One thing leads to another and we end up in the guest bedroom. And then thats it. My memory stops. Did something happen? Did I have drunken sloppy sex? Did I lay there like a floppy fish? Nope. I passed out. And when I woke up the next morning with my shirt still on I doubted that anything happened. I was right. I got nothing. How upsetting. So instead of reflecting on the idea that I drink to much, I instead decided to ban drunken sex until I came home for the summer.

Last night it was put to the test. I avoided Mr. Hook Up a little to avoid all the flirting, but not enough to make him think that I was upset with him. Yeah I made out with him a little, but we didn't really talk. I also avoided his dancing, but thats mostly because he is terrible at it. And then I intentionally went home alone. And you know how fulfilled I was? Not at all. Not only that, but in the morning there was no one there to take me out for breakfast, and no reason to clean my sheets. So my abstinence kick has lasted for a week, and now that I am ditching it, I don't know if I have much of a choice in the matter. Well, until next week.

Next weekend is the last weekend in my big city summer. I think I need to go out with a bang...

Wednesday, May 18, 2011


 We’ve all got a Voldemorte or two in our lives. That guy that you’re just kind of powerless around because they’ve been privy to some side of you that you don’t let out anymore, or a part of you that really only existed with them, or you met before you should have and things are totally fucked up now. Or something! Or all of the above. Whatever!

Voldemorte v2.0 and I have a history of meeting each other out on the edge, and turning around. We’re both guilty of being total assholes. We are never on the same page, and for a long time we weren’t in the same book. However, much to my chagrin, we have too many mutual friends to completely drop it and avoid each other forever. Recently, we’ve “resolved” things – which mostly involved difficult apologies from both sides and agreeing to try not to be so fucking weird around each other.  

I’m feeling very The Suburbs (continued) about him right now, but that’s probably the running-into-him-recently-and-it-finally-not-being-totally-weird coming out. 

The obvious solution to deal with this confusion is to date several men from the internet. 

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Summer has begun

I have to admit. After my 5 month long fling with a douche-loser ended, I had this feeling that I might not get laid by anyone new again this whole Summer. First of all, it seems to be difficult to meet people in a city where you seem to know everyone, or bump into at least one person you know a day. Second of all, everyone you hook up with is connected somehow, ie. my ex who I still 'hang out with' is now besties with the friend of a dude who i madeout with a few weeks ago, whose cousin I 'hung out with.' My point: This city has a nack for fucking you over, because when you have your eye on a tasty little prize, that prize turns out to be a friend of someone you already screwed.


I met the perfect candidate for a Summer Fling (It's technically still Spring, but because there's finally nice weather here, I call it Summer, ok?!). After attending a party this weekend (where 2 dudes I previously 'hung out with' resided), I was dragged, relunctantly, to a second parlty without my 2 sidekicks. One of my sidekicks went to a restaurant and proceeded to vomit the entire night, and the other went home to get laid. I figured, why the hell shouldn't I go to this party with an aquaintance and 5 other guys I met that night? Right? Because....WHY NOT?

So I go to this party, it takes me an hour to get there, as we are on foot, and once I get there, I notice I am the oldest one there. Literally. I was intoxicated, so maybe everyone just seemed young and lame. So after half an hour, I left. The plan was to walk home alone. Enter: Irish. As I walk out the back door, I see a beautiful Irishman standing and talking to some chickies. Our eyes meet, and he ends conversation with said chickies to talk to me. I can't even remember what we were talking about; I just remember a stream of piss flowing from the rooftop onto the ground in the background. The romantic mood was set. I tell him I am leaving because I don't know anyone and someone is pissing off the roof. He asks to walk me home, and I oblige. On the way home, I found out he is witty, charming, Irish, and lives in Toronto. I figured this was perfect for a one night stand and would give me something to blog about (and Duh.) So I told him to lock up his bike and come inside.

We talked for hours and he complimented a lot, which I figured was to get into my onesie. But then yada yada yada, for an hour, and he was still dishing out compliments and being all witty and charming. Then eventually he left in the morning, and said "I'm leaving town tomorrow morning...but maybe I will get to see you tonight." I thought the guy was nutso because I'm not having a two-night-stand. But then I found out he was a talented musician and also was just really I ended up two-night-standing it that night and having another great night. Now he's gone and I am left with this excited feeling. A moral, rather: Just because some people are douche-losers, doesn't mean you can't find a foreigner to bang to get you back on track and ready for Summer!

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Graveyard Sweatpants

I was complaining about not getting any, and now that it is staring me in the face I don't want it.

The guy from the graveyard recently contacted me again via another dating website. We were chatting and neither of us realized who the other was, until I pieced the whole thing together and nearly ran away from my computer yelling over my bad luck.

So I gave him my phone number. Obviously.

I figured, yes he is 13 years my senior (which does kind of feel like a lot), and yes he most likely works with my dad, and yes his voice is intolerable....I really need to get laid. REALLY. I NEED TO GET FUCKED. And I felt like he was sort of familiar.

He is like the sweat pants of sex. Ugly but comfortable.

The problem is: Ever since I gave him my number he has been texting me crap like "Hugs!" and "Smooches!". I guess he is trying to get my attention. What is really happening is that I am being revolted.

The thing is: I still really do need to get fucked.

So I was really close to going to his place tonight even though he texted me about 20 times, but my neighbor (sketchy drug guy) was over for beers. And I told Graveyard Guy. It only seemed to fuel him more.

It is now 2:30am and I am still getting texts, an email, and a message from the dating website saying that Graveyard Guy added me to his list of "favourite people".

In reality I am going to have sex with him. It is inevitable. It will probably happen tomorrow. It may even happen tonight...

Monday, May 9, 2011

The First Wave

Online Dating – Week 2


The first wave of men has been largely undesirable.

No! I don’t want a sugar papa!
No! I don’t want to tell you if I wear dresses and scarves sometimes!
No! I don’t want to think about what it would be like to be wined and dined by someone much older!
No! I don’t want you to come over and touch my feet!
No! I don’t want your phone number IMMEDIATELY!
No! I do not want you to be callin’ me pet-names!
No! Your spelling is atrocious!

I Want:  Sexy Uglies!

Tall, broad, scruffy, deep voiced, meaty, stallions that are more Beast then they are Prince – that are charming and arrogant, with twinkles in their eyes – that look like they could have a woman for breakfast at dinner.

I don’t think that it is too much to ask for, because I am already sacrificing my lust for post-secondary educations and science.

There are a few promising options amidst the garbage.

I’ve been messaging regularly with six guys. Two are boring, so I will not bother describing them unless those conversations become more magical.

Bachelor #1: Donkey Kong

DK is 28 and a classic example of a Sexy Ugly. He’s tall, broad, and has big hands. He kind of looks like Donkey Kong (in one picture). He is arrogant, charming, and flirtatious without being gross (this is something that the men of pof have a very difficult time with). A quick look through our emails might suggest that we are enemies – Him, suggesting I do his laundry, and me, questioning if that’s his real age and making fun of him for having no post-secondary. I am concerned that underneath the fun-douche there is a real douche.

He makes me nervous in a good way. He’s older than anyone I’ve ever dated, and I find that thrilling. He’s been really vague about his life, but from what I gather he has some kind of job for the government, drives a car, and lives in a house. I am hoping its not lives-in-a-house-with-HIS-MOM situation. We’ve exchanged phone numbers and will probably talk this week.  

Bachelor #2: Scarf

Scarf is 24, tall, seems eccentric, and my gut tells me he is pof’s version of a bar-star. We’ve exchanged adventure stories (he used too many adjectives, in my opinion) and we’ve razzed each other a bit. He’s started being more flirtatious, but I am not 100% into it.  I just can’t shake the bar-star theory!

Bachelor #3: Race Cars

Race Cars is 24, really tall, and cute. He is more cherub-ish than he is a sexy ugly, though. Muffy has had some previous interaction with Race Cars, and discovered that he is/used to be (?) a race car driver and has his own ridiculous website (or something).  He hasn’t mentioned his former race-car driving life, but I eagerly wait for it to come up.

Bachelor #4: Lumberjack

Lumberjack came out of nowhere.  He is 22, and the shortest of the bunch at 5’10. I am not super keen on dudes that use the instant msging part of the website as a first attempt at contact, so I was not pumped when he did. Much to my surprise, we had a perfectly nice conversation. At first I didn’t feel into it at all, and made him do all the work, but then he got really funny/interesting (ie: he mentioned he was a lumberjack), so I decided to engage a bit more.  It turns out that we probably have a lot of people in common because he plays rugby.  When he asked for my phone number I told him that I don’t give it out right away, but I encouraged him to shoot me an email. Before he logged off he sent me a few jazzy/blues songs, and told me he’d be emailing me soon.

Bachelor #5: The Friend

I made plans to go for a walk with my friend this week.  We’ve known each other for like 6 years. I may or may not have a bit of a crush on this pal, but because of weird history stuff I’ve felt really uncomfortable with having said crush. A few weeks ago he came to a party and told me I had sexy hair, invited me a concert, and asked me to go see a movie. HOW did I respond? “I cut my hair with meat scissors”, “No thanks, I don’t like that band.” And my personal favorite: “I don’t really go to movies often b/c I am poor, so I usually just wait to rent… and if I can rent, I may as well just download it and watch it by myself. Like a date with myself.”

I am stuck in a web of my own friendzone. Recently, he’s revealed to me that he’s being celibate for the summer, so I asked him if he was free for a walk.

He has a pof too. He just msged me to say that my profile kills all future boners, and “see you on Wednesday”. I told him that I was happy to assist him on his quest for celibacy.

Even though I don’t think anything will actually happen here, I think its good to keep some variety.  He is the douchiest guy I know, and sometimes that’s all a girl really needs to cut the estrogen in her life and balance out the incoming testosterone.  He’s included as a bachelor because I am not horrified at the thought of hooking up with him, and because he had the audacity to msg me on pof.

OH AND, update regarding Dimples:

The date was fine. We clicked over conversation, but I wasn’t feelin’ it. He’s so little! He was really funny, charming, cute, all of that good stuff, but when he hugged me at the end, I didn’t like that he felt so small in my arms.  I gave him a mix cd (an awesome mix cd). That night he texted me to say he didn’t get a chance to listen to it, and the next day he emailed me to tell me it was “wonderful” and asked for the song list. I sent it and haven’t heard from him since.

On one hand I am annoyed that I didn’t get a mix cd from him, but on the other hand I am somewhat relieved. I liked hanging out with him and talking, but I couldn’t imagine myself having sexy-times.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

This Town is Small

[Muffy] 11:25pm
funnny story
so i am on okcupid, as per usual
and this guy starts IMing me and he is older, 37, and he works in film, and his name is M******
and we are chatting whatever
and i realize it all seems very familiar
[Samsamsam] 11:25pm
[Muffy] 11:25pm
and i look at his picture again and said "you fucked me in a graveyard once."
and then i gave him my number...
[Samsamsam] 11:26pm
oh my god
[Muffy] 11:26pm
i know
he said he was hurt that i ignored his calls
and i said i was hurt by the number of bug bites on my ass the next day

Friday, May 6, 2011

Dear Mother

Working in retail is shit, pretty much as a rule.

Your feet hurt and probably stink from your cute shoes. People are bitchy and treat you like crap. You have to sell people garbage that no one really wants or needs. Your face gets sore from fake smiling for hours. The pay is shit. And there is no medical coverage.

Only one time of year is retail a little less miserable than usual, and that is around mother's day.

Hot men go shopping around mother's day.

Sure hot men shop for Christmas, but you never know who it is for and December is such a miserable month that no one is in a state to man hunt.

But May.

May is a month of opportunity! May is a month where life is blossoming and layers are being shed! May is a month of beer drinking outside and optimism! May is glorious!

Since mother's day happens to be in May, everyone who is shopping is in a fabulous mood and don't seem to mind if you test the boundaries of their personal space in order to closer investigate their relationship status.

This weekend my place of employment, which caters to middle aged women, will be filled to the brim with kind young men all looking for a little something for Mother Dearest. I, of course, am ready and rearing to offer amazing suggestions for gift ideas.

And then when the boys give the gifts to their mothers and the moms like the gifts the men will come back to me and thank me profusely for aiding their sick mothers back to health by helping them choose the perfect gifts that brightened her life and then the men will sweep me up in their arms and carry me away to a life free of retail hell and we will run into the sunset, hand in hand.

Monday, May 2, 2011


Why is it that there is an influx of men in my life and yet I am still not getting laid.

What the fuck, may I ask, is going on?!

I am so frustrated.

My computer is going to explode from all porn pop-ups.

I am so close to just giving up, heading to American Apparel and buying a Hitachi Magic Wand from some cracked out, over-sexed, hipster child.


Sunday, May 1, 2011

jumping IN

I am meeting a dude for coffee tomorrow. A dude from the INTERNET. Tomorrow I shall be losing my "meeting men from the internet" virginity*.

Dimples** and I have been emailing back and forth for about a month. He originally messaged me on Okcupid (with my skeleton pictureless profile) because my username was the title of one of his favourite songs, and he just "had to".

Dimples is a frustrating mix of characteristics that I like a lot (dimples, deep voice***, beard, plastic framed glasses) and characteristics that I am far less pleased about (short!, balding?, 28, what do them teeth look like?).  That being said, I once thought that really tall men were the bees fucking knees, until I realized that a huge difference in height gets complicated in the sack. And, I am wildly attracted to a balding man from work. And, I would totally be fine with dating someone older than that. SO WHAT GIVES!?

wish me luck, ladies.

ALSO: A few months ago I decided that in May I would give internet dating a real try. So, today I uploaded pictures.  I feel like a freak! BUT ALSO, I can't help but wonder...

* I may have played some "just the tip" re: meeting men this way a few years ago, but that's a story for another day.
**not his real name
*** like REALLY DEEP. It was like there were R's rolling in words that didn't even have R's!