There is this bitchy chick at work that was about to get got. Being a bitch is cool, cause I can be a bitch sometimes, but she turned her bitchiness on me. Now, yall know I ain't having that especially if I didn't warrant such action. Now, if I did something to piss you off (which I am wont to do. BTW, why did this lady stop me in Borders at like 8 p.m. talking about don't you drive a so-n-so, you cut me off this morning. Lol, damn, I gotta rep like that?! That shit was like 12 hours earlier!), that's fine, I can take it. But when you're mad at other people and you want to take it out on me, that's where I draw the line. And this chick was like, don't fight me, I'll fight you back. Now, I know those of you who know me are like - uh-oh. I held it in. The laughter in her face I mean, well, I held it in the best I could. Who does this chick think I am? Have yall ever seen me back down from confrontation? Ever? I don't invite it, but I don't shirk away from it. But I work here, and I would like to continue to do so. So, I kept the negro-itis in check. And didn't break her off a piece of that funky stuff. When did I start rapping "Ain't Nothing But a G-Thang." You know when Snoop was still relevant. Point is, I beat bullies down, been doing it since first grade. She don't want none of this. Trust.
Lol. WTF? First off, why is he dipping handtowels into his crotch and then giving them away. He has some big balls (well, I cannot confirm nor deny this) to consistently do this and think this is okay. I'm sorry, this is funny. I mean who thinks this shit up. And everyone is talking about his big bush. Why is it all the way up to his navel? And on some side leg, too? Yeesh. I know I said I was against a man going all bald, but I'm not advocating a jungle. Poor Tiny having to wade through the weeds on her quest of perpetual pregnancy. Man, you have to have a huge cock to rock a bush that wild. Otherwise, it must look like a turtle in the grass. I love me some T.I., but this is ridiculous. I can't stop laughing. Maybe he's trying to grow it out for prison. I'm sure the reverse looks the same.
Weezy done done it again. Have you heard his new song Prom Queen (leaked a week early from his new all rock album The Rebirth due April 7). The negro done gone rock on a bitch and he ain't playing around. He is trying to be versitile as hell and is succeeding at it. Way to branch out Mr. Carter. If only Kanye would stop whining about his heartless fiance and put out another good album. I think Mr. West turned into Keith Sweat. Eminem's new song Pop a Bottle is kinda garbage; it's just not new or fresh or inventive. But his first singles usually suck anyway. They pan to the least common denominator. Let's hope the album has some killer b-sides like they usually do. And why folks always talk about how the game done changed and how since their absence rap has gone to hell. No it hasn't. Who are you? The messiah of rap? Is this the second coming? Please, spare me. And 50 Cent is seriously obsolete. Yeah, I said it. Evolve or perish, Mr. Jackson. And by evolve I don't mean go play gangsters and drug dealers and rappers in movies. That's not an evolution. Evolve musically, you shithead. Singing about how you "get it in" just isn't cutting it! What could be more gross? You talking about stinking your penis into yet another skank invested puss or .... no, you win. You astound me with your musical geniusry. Get a knew schtick because your "thinly" vailed sex references are old hat, disgusting and not very clever. Speaking of genius, whatsup with Common's new joint Universal Mindcontrol. Why am I dancing in the car on the way to work? Who's mind am I universally controling, Common? This might be the theme song to my manifesto. Dance, bitch, dance! Now, who's your master? Crystal! Yeah, that's right! Damn, this song is a Pharrell song (no fucking wonder I love it) and the Hype Williams video is redic. Check on the link below. Seriously, I'm listening to that Prom Queen song right now. It's rediculously sick! Go cop that off iTunes.
Prom Queen link (might stop working due to copyright)
At the tender age of 30, I have developed acne. Great! Just in time for my prime time sexual peek. Nothing snags a hot model with a big wang like a face full of white heads. Nothing says don't you want to procreate with me like a face full of pock marks. But I digress. I went to the dermatologist who told me that I really didn't have enough acne to require prescription medication. I told him that was like only having a little syphilis. Not quite enough syph to require penicillin. He thought I was funny. I did not return the favor. So, he gave me a few samples of Differin - which in fact, made it worse. So, I stopped using it. I went through Ambi, Clearasil, Biore with varying degrees of success when I stumbled upon an epiphany while watching my Sunday morning reality shows. On one such VH1 gem, Confessions of a Teen Idol, Eric Nies (of Real World fame) the shows resident hippy was telling his cast mates (demonstrating actually) that pouring urine on your head keeps your hair healthy and shiny. "WHAT?!" You may ask. Yep, he poured pee on his hair. But I one up you Eric Nies. I remember when I was younger (say 17) my grandmother telling me that people used to rub their faces with baby diapers (sans poo) to clear up acne. Well, I don't have a baby and with this pepperoni face, I won't be having one either. I know sex clears it up, too (well, it does for me) but I'm not having enough of it for my clear skin to stick. So, I thought to myself, "What about regular ole pee?" I looked it up on google and there it was on like a wikipedia health page. Your pee is chocked full of stuff your face needs. Minerals and vitamins and crap that's good for your face. My first thought is why are we peeing it out in the first place if its so good. Well, you pee out any water soluble vitamin or mineral that you consume in excess, but that's as far as my 6 year old pre-med knowledge goes. What you do is take a cotton swab, hit your pee about mid-stream (after the toxins have already exited), wipe it on your face and let it sit for at least 10 minutes then wash it off. And you need that good old strong goldenrod pee, none of that water cleanse Zima looking pee. Do this when you first wake up and right before you go to bed. I swear its working. Don't ask me why I'm telling yall this. Cause its fucking funny. I bet none of R. Kelly's girlfriends have acne.
Oh, so you're not into pissing on your own face? Prude! Try the new Neutragena acne clearing system they're saying is better than Proactiv. I tried Proactiv and it broke my face out. I washed my face once with that Neutragena system and I have 4 huge monster zits go away. So, you tell me what's up. Well, I did that and ... R. Kelly slept over and he peed on my face. I'm just playing.
i say we annex mexico like las vegas let all the debauchery happen there what happens in mexico stays in mexico we just improve their clean water sources enough with the diarrhea already it's 2008[ it is in fact, 23 days into 2009], time to step it up there will be no digestive parasites in my empire
1. Abnormally beautiful people are riddled with insecurities and extremely ugly people have unjustifiably high self esteem. I, on the other hand, have a self esteem level that is proportionate to my super fine-ness!
2. I discriminate against people not based on color, creed, sexual orientation or socio-economic background. I discriminate based on personality, stupidity, obnoxiousness levels, selfishness levels, meanness levels, rudeness levels, racist levels, whether or not you can drive, whether or not you laugh at my jokes, general ugliness and malaise, disproportionate self esteem, delusions of grandeur, secret keeping acuity, interesting conversation skills, personal hobbies, taste in music / movies / books (TV is a free for all), boudoir acrobatics, general hygiene, boringness quotient, etc, etc ad naseum
3. I travel a lot and do a certain amount of dirt where ever city that might be, and consequently have a multitude of friends that know certain things about me, but not a one that knows everything and I like it that way; hence, they will never meet.
4. I can see huge holes in your relationship before you can. Like years before. It's a sick gift. I won't give this knowledge out unsolicited. I will keep it to myself. So, don't ask if you don't want to know. I haven't been wrong yet. I've been reading people since 1993.
5. Men who shave their balls should not sleep with women (pornstars are exempt from this rule).
6. It should be illegal (punishable by a huge fine, mandatory jail time and that whatchamacallit that says you can't profit from your crime) to post, sell or distribute nude photographs and/or video taped sex acts of people without express consent of all parties on the tape. You may now dub this "Crystal's Law." (I just want a law named after me) But it really should be named "Pamela Anderson/Tommy Lee's Law" or "Paris Hilton's Law" or "Kim Kardashian's Law" Stop exploiting women ya douchbag ex-boyfriend assholes.
7. It is often the people who don't think they're racist who are the most racist.
8. Every 100 years there are a whole new crop of people. Let's hope the next batch is better than the last.
9. Hotness, knows no race. It really comes down to some simple geometric equation of the symmetry of your face. If I did a time lapsed photo of the faces of an Indian, Caucasian, Japanese, African, Middle Eastern, Native American, Pacific Islander, Inuit, etc etc, they would all start to look the same.
10. Power absolutely corrupts. If you aren't personally corrupted, it will corrupt your relationships, it will corrupt how people deal with and view you.
11. Telling a funny joke to people who weren't there and still having it be funny is a measure of 3 things: 1) Your personal humor (is what you find funny ACTUALLY funny; 2) You story telling skills; 3) The audience (are you telling the right story to the right person?)
12. There is nothing Caucasian about having good grammar. That's a class (socio-economic/educational background) issue, not a racial one.
13. There is nothing wrong with getting a divorce if you put your all into the relationship and still had to take your lumps and eat humble pie. You are not a quitter. You're just human. There is no nobility in staying in a bad marriage. This is not 1953.
14. Behold the power of a tight firm ass. There is no greater turn off than an indistinguishable pancake-esque backside. Commence lunges and squats and stairmastering now.
15. What UCLA alum (and fellow Californians) don't want you to know is that over 50% of UCLA graduates started off their first 2 years at community college. Doesn't seem too prestigious now does it? I betcha Harvard isn't impressed by Santa Monica Community College transcripts (though I'm sure its a lovely school). Get off your fucking high horse ya Bruins.
16. The grass is never greener on the other side of the fence. NEVER. If you knew most people's problems, you wouldn't trade yours for theirs.
17. I know its wrong and very un-P.C., but I like using the word retarded as an adjective - not to describe mentally handicapped individuals, but to describe supposedly mentally adept individuals having a handicapped moment. Yes, I'm a bad person and I'm quite aware of my going-to-hell quotient. See you hypocrites there. It has been my experience than handicapped individuals do not want to be treated differently than everyone else and they have a wonderful sense of humor. You holier than though fuckers do not.
18. You are not as good in bed as you think you are. (This of course does not apply to me)
19. I am a very bad liar. I don't exercise this skill often enough to be good at it. I don't deem you important enough to lie to. Who are you to judge me? I could care less what you think. Telling the truth is much more interesting. If you want to lie, lie to the police. Lie on some life or death shit.
20. On the other hand, behold the power of a well placed, well thought out, reasonable lie. But make it good. Beware though because one lie leads to another like that 80s commercial that used to come on the Christian channel that for some reason reminds me of Rent.
21. I would rather have some average looking, highly intelligent kids, than some gorgeous dumb ones. You would be surprised on how many people would want it the other way. Lord help me if I have ugly dumb kids, please make me love them anyway.
22. You are not better or more important than anyone else. You're not. You only think you are. This is both an illusion and a delusion.
23. Religion is a highly personal and individual choice - the mechanisms of which should always be kept to yourself. Do not try to convert me. I will not respond kindly. This is only half true for politics.
24. Famous people never live up to your idea of them. You don't want to meet them. Be content to watch them on TV.
25. Everybody needs some me time. Some of us need more than others. Be aware of how much time your significant other and close friends need and act accordingly. Hopefully, you'll get the same consideration.
There has to be something said for anonymity. I don't want to be facebook friends with my coworkers. What if I want to status something shitty about work. Then they're all why do you want to get off work early, why do you hate, blah blah blah. Because motherfucker! Because. Okay, so I went to this karoake bar that I'm starting to become a regular at. Sometimes you just gotta sing that shit out! That stress, that man, that job, that life, whateva. Anyway, I went to this bar and I made some new friends like I do. So, I made four whatevs. One chick was real cute and I was admiring her tattoos, but I realized halfway in that she wanted to do me. Okay, I'm flattered. I feel like everyone should want to do me, but this chick was hot and in to me, but I like dick but I'm still halfway nice deep down on the inside so instead of leading her on I just kind of disappeared and left all together. Wait, is that wrong? Why do I feel like a dude right now? Damn. Anyhoo, I met this other cool black guy that was a little older, not gross so, but noticeably, should have his shit together by now so, but he was always on the phone outside apologizing to some chick into to his Voyager. Okay, NEXT!!! So, while I was outside drinking all of my holiday liquor -- that I had stored and forgotten about in the trunk -- with my new friend Steve who I thought he was gay because he was wearing an ascot and a dress and some jeans, but was not gay because he pulled his cock out in front of this girl who was real cool and reminded me of Leslie (who didn't come, bitch) and sang some Leonna Lewis song. Basically, Steve was like I'm not gay see and pulled his cock out and there was a genital wart on it that he proceeded to tell us about. It was redder than the rest of his skin and it had the milky white cream on it that he told us was compound W (um, for regular warts) and told us not to fuck chicks off some website that is now defunct or some shit, but that ain't the kicker. Then with the same hand that he like whipped his cock out and stretched out to show us his potential with (like white boys are won't to do, remind me of telling you guys what happened with Trina last week) and potentially touched his wart with, he was gesturing like excited Trannys who are in full convo mode are wont to do and touched ole Leonna Lewis Leslie chicks arm and hand and she fully stopped convo. Okay, so before that we both were shocked and appauled and awed and intrigued at seeing a live and fully agressive STD in action in real time in front of our very eyes, but as soon as he touched her (which is kind of rude if I wasn't so busy internally laughing because it wasn't me) she was like, "Um did he just touch me? did he just touch me. Um... i'm going to wash, I'll be right back." And he wasn't like offended or perplexed or phased or anything. He was like I'll see you when you get back. Now, by the time she gets back he has to pee because he's been ciphering jose cuervo premixed margaritas out of the trunk of my car which is cool. So, she like talks my ear off about she's got genital warts now because he's touched her arm and hand and i'm like no, unless you have a cut on your hand or arm or some shit, and she's like I don't know. and i'm like well it won't be genital warts because he didn't touch your genitals. get a dermatologist to nitrogen freeze that shit off if it becomes a problem, but my point is what if she didn't want the world to know that some kid she met at a bar whipped out his cock showed her his genital wart then touched her arm man. What if uh, she wanted to take that to her grave. Something has be said for anonymity. Fuck coworkers trying to be your friends. You don't fucking know me. Now, my jack in the box is getting cold.
Now some of you know him and some of you don't, but Gerry Lee, yes beautiful dancing vampiric evil leprechaun Gerry Lee is a freaking artist! I shit you not. His first solo show Don't Feed the Bears is at the Signals Art Centre in Bray, Ireland from January 20 - February 1. Now don't act like yall aren't some jetsetting mofos and can't get away. Go out and support my boy. We love you Gerry in all your delicious debauchery.
This is not an "I told you so" or a "in your face" or "that's right sucka" to all of you who are getting a divorce that I saw coming. Divorce is a very painful and private matter and I respect that even if some of your other friends or some of your family members or their family members don't, but for all of you who are about to take the plunge or will take the plunge in the future this song's for you. Marriage is like college, it ain't for everybody (oh, yes, I was an English major suck it). Some people are incapable of being in a healthy relationship and some people just aren't going to be in a healthy relationship with you. Don't take it personal, but also don't make it your mission to try and change that person even if you think its for the better. You are not Mother Teresa. You are not earning your way into heaven one boyfriend at a time. And it really doesn't make you feel good that your ex now leaves the toilet seat down, washes his ass properly, cooks dinner three times a week and has switched his gift giving from small kitchen appliances to jewelry. Yeah, you trained him and all that good work is being benefited by someone else. I will now serenade you with the saddest song in the world played on the tiniest of violins. Get over it. Move the hell on.
We all have baggage. I know you think yours is light and its Louis Vutton. It's still baggage. Did ErykaBadu not sing loud enough for you bag lady? While some baggage can be viewed as children (and I mean that in the nicest way possible) and exes (who should only count if you have children with them thus they are still around) the bigger baggage is harder to see. That emotional tote. That gargantuan Samsonite you're lugging around from relationship to relationship. This year, I'm going to encourage you to open that hard-cased bad mamajama and chuck some shit out. Make your load lighter.
Remember what's his face that cheated on you. Forgive him. He was an asshole. You holding on forever to that hurt and that pain is a cancer eating away at your soul, metastasizing and infecting everything you do. Let it go. He was broken. He got broke long before you even came along. He started breaking around 13. That don't have shit to do with you. You're beautiful, intelligent and great in bed. He couldn't appreciate that, but that's not your fault. You didn't deserve it, but he's broken. Forget about him. Move on. And don't punish everyone that comes after him for shit your ex did. But also don't date new people who are prone to cheating, have a history of cheating and/or are more likely to cheat i.e. playas, rock stars, athletes, frat boys, narcissists. If you are already in a relationship, recognize the warning signs. I refuse to believe a woman can't see that her man is cheating on her. Either she's cheating too, or she doesn't want to know. No man is THAT good at covering their tracks. On the flip side, don't see shit that isn't there. Don't go making up problems. It's a balance. You have to be rational, but only you can break the cycle.
Don't date a taker. A taker is a person who only takes and never gives. Don't date anyone is not giving you what you need, and don't listen to your friends about what your wants are. Your wants are different than theirs, so don't get confused that you're not getting from your man what Shanika down the street wants. She might like sex on the beach. You might like to keep your hoo-haw sand free. You decide what your needs are and if they are getting met. Me personally, I like to talk on the phone. I can't date anyone who won't talk to me and who doesn't think I'm funny. But that's just me. Maybe you need your mate to be funny. Also, make sure you're not a taker. Make sure you're putting in what you're getting. Don't be selfish. That's the fast track to being single ... again.
Don't date anyone you don't respect. That's almost saying don't date anyone you don't like, but I've actually seen that work believe it or not. You don't have to like everything a person does, nor should you, you sycophant. But you can disagree with someone and still respect them. If they adore you and you think they're a fucking idiot. That's not going to work.
Make sure you're on the same page about your relationship. I got into a conversation with someone about our past and quickly began to realize that most of our problems stemmed from miscommunication in the form of us using the same words, but have polar opposite definitions on what those words mean. I come to believe this is the plight of the war of the sexes. Who was right? Me of course! I say that to say this. Be clear to your partner about what your expectations and intentions are with that relationship. Yall could be apples and oranges, unicorns and dragons. It's better to know up front and not 5, 10, 20 years down the line when its too late and you're old bitter and spent. Even if you have different expectations, when you're up front and honest, one partner could change their mind and start wanting the things that you want, but THEY have to make that decision. You CANNOT (I can't stress this enough) make that decision for them. It's like those poor misguided souls that purposely get pregnant thinking some player is going to go "Eureka, this gal's for me!" Instead, he ends up hating her forever. Also, make sure you're actually dating someone. A why are you cheating me conversation will end quite quickly if the other person didn't know you were dating.
Recognize the mistakes you made in your last relationship, learn from them and don't repeat them in the new one. It sounds simple enough, but people do not do this. You have to be a level of self aware that most people are not comfortable with. Everything is not ALL the other person's fault. Take responsibility on your contribution to the problems and change that behavior. It's like watching reels before the next football game. How can you improve your game. How can you behave differently, better? It's like recapping an argument and wishing you would have said this or that, but instead of inserted a better zinger, insert better behavior that will get a better outcome. Recognize your relationship patterns and decide if that's the person you want to continue dating. The douchebag. Why do you keep dating that same type of guy over and again. Why are you attracted to that? What can you change about yourself (NOT the other person, let them change themselves)? Recognize what you don't want. Stay away from that.
Date someone on the same sex level. This comes in two parts: 1. Frequency 2. Freakiness. These are not the same. Maybe I like to have it 85 times a week missionary position. Maybe he likes it twice a week reverse cowgirl and a belt around his neck. You have be very similar or this is going to go downhill fast. Ideally date someone you will grow with sexually. Hopefully, you will grow in the same direction. I'm growing into S&M and he's growing into men, we have a problem. Don't date someone who's going to put all your sex business on the street, and don't you behave that way either. How many women get mad because their bestfriend fucked their man, but they've been telling them how good he is in bed etc ad nauseum. Shut the hell up and no one would know.
Date someone on the same commitment level. This has two parts. 1. Marriage 2. Children. You need to honest with yourself on how you see your future. Is your dream self married with kids? Yes or no. Only you can answer this honestly. The next step is dating someone who wants the same things. Don't think folks are going to go changing their mind down the road. Make it clear what you want. If they don't think they can give those things to you, move the hell on quickly. Next. And a lot of men with kids don't want to have anymore. So, don't assume since he already has kids that he wants more. Ask him. And maybe he doesn't want to have any kids with YOU. That's not your fault. That's his loss. But don't take it personally (even though its hard not to), but move the hell on. You deserve to get what you want. Don't waste time on someone who's never going to or incapable of giving it to. I don't care how cute they are. They are not the only swinging dick in town.
Try not to date anyone who's family you can't stand. You don't want to wage war on an entire family that will last for the next 30 years. Who has that kind of headache capacity and time to devote to espionage? Be honest with yourself on how much in-law bullshit you can take and gage accordingly. Do I even like this person enough to deal with their psycho mom? If the answer is no, good-bye.
Don't loan anyone money. Not going into that. Don't date men that ask for money. Women either. It's all on you if you offer. Everyone can be in a tight spot every now and then. But I'm talking about those folks that expect that from a relationship. Stay away from those people. Bad news. Never loan money in an amount or to a person that you would get mad if they never paid it back. Don't loan money. Yeesh. This stuff writes itself.
Date someone on the same financial level. If there is a disparity, you have to be 100% okay and confident with it. This is really a man thing. Most men have a problem with dating a woman who makes more money than they do. It's a pride issue. Most women could care less IF they are a good man and NOT begging her for money. Now, if you don't care that your man begs you for money, we need to talk. That's a whole nother blog entry. But you have to be in the same ball park. The more money you make the less of an issue it is. If you make 125K and he makes 100K, who the hell cares. If you make 15 million and he makes 10, snore. Sure, that's 5 million dollars, but he's not going to be bumming money from you or trying to get you to invest in some hair brained get rich quick pyramid scheme. Now if he makes 1 million and you make 100, then you are going to see problems. If you're pulling 125K and he's pulling 60K, then you're going to have some discussions because the difference between the two is so great you're going to be able to SEE the difference in the money. It's the different between a Toyota and a Porshe, an apartment and a McMansion, first class and a leer jet. That money is just not the same.
This one is sort of about money, but not. Date someone who has similar goals and ambition than you. If you like to be top dog, you're not going to make it with a coach potato. If you're about being promoted, you're not going to like being married to someone who is complacent and constantly gets passed over for promotions. If I'm trying to win Oscars or the Fields metal or the U.S. Presidency and you're trying to move the fryer to the register. This is not going to work out.
Get a prenup. I know yall are in love now and x,y,z, but you are not a fortune teller. You do not know what the future holds. You might end up falling in love with the copy boy. You might be on some "see you next lifetime" ErykaBadu shit with the UPS man. Who the hell knows. And I don't know what state you live in, if you live in a fault state (that awards more money to the person who DIDN'T cause the the divorce) or a no-fault state that doesn't give a hoot. Nor do I know the circumstances of why you will get divorces or if you will get divorced and neither do you. You know what a prenup is, it's insurance. You have car insurance don't you? You have health insurance don't you? You have life insurance don't you? Well, you might as well sign up for some I don't want to get fucked over if this marriage doesn't work out insurance. Don't be fooled, someone is always worth more financially in a marriage. Even if its only on paper. You think you make less so you'll get alimony. You find out during the divorce, they were lying about their salary or they got demoted and didn't tell you. Or they have mystery kids that count as mitigating circumstances. Who the hell knows. What I do know is that is fucking disgraceful to pay a MAN alimony. Get a fucking job, a promotion. I think alimony is ridiculous. The court doesn't care if you make $5 more. Get ready to pay them $2.50. Maybe I wanted to buy a big mac with that $2.50.
Those are all the lessons I have for the day. I don't want you to get divorced, but I also don't want you to stay in a bad relationship that isn't working. We're getting older now and everyone is going to start pairing up and settling down and living their life. And I want you to live a good life. I want you to live your best life, live up to your best potential and I want you to have someone to share that with. I just don't want that person to be an asshole. Because I still want us to hang out. See, its really all about me.
It's been like 5 fricking years now and we're still hearing about Jennifer Aniston. Go away. Nobody cares that you and Brad Pitt broke up. You guys were always fighting in public toward the end anyway, and this is way before he even MET Angelina Jolie. Sure she's a man stealing whore, we all know that, but that's why we love her. She professes to be nothing else. But they have kids now, like a million of them buggers and they show no sign of slowing down, and you will always be the one that snagged Brad (and rather quickly too I might add, bravo), but lost him. The chick that couldn't hold on to him, couldn't keep him on his toes and really isn't as good or as versatile an actor. Anjie's on his level. Deal with it, and no amount of John Mayer fucking can change that. You need an upgrade. Someone that's hot and young and utterly successful ACTOR like .... for example .... frick ... its kinda hard to top your ex. That's your fucking problem. And isn't it a little more than weird that you started dating Vince Vaughn, the very man who was there when your husband fell in love with his new woman. Or is Vince just biggest swinging dick of a stud around. Sure, Brad, I'll pick up the pieces and fuck your wife, crack a few jokes while you fall in love making a an action movie. Jennifer Aniston will always be famous for marrying Brad Pitt, which kinda sucks in the women's lib sort of way, and oh yeah, I think she was on some show once that was kinda funny ...
Have you seen that old Sex in the City episode (and I do mean, old. Why is that some shows look like they have been recorded on melted VHS tape? They are not aging well) where Charlotte discovers the vibrator and doesn't leave the house for days and Carrie has to liberate her from the house. I have officially become Charlotte. Well, not exactly. It's like this. I always kind of scoffed at sex toys. Like they were something that other people did. Much like to every black girl growing up, blowjobs were something that white chicks did. Sex toys were for porn stars and shut ins, and though technically, I am neither, I have officially changed my mind. It was never a shame issue for me, I just wasn't interested. I used to buy toys for my friends for their bridal showers as sort of an asshole prank gift or the odd birthday, but I never once considered getting one for myself until yesterday.
Nothing groundbreaking happened yesterday. I embarked on this dildo quest more out of boredom, a lark, really. The Adult Boutique beckoning from across the street of my "mountain view" townhouse boasted to have the selection the women wanted. Yeah right. I've been to my share of sex shops and truly the best is on Melrose in L.A. They have some of the weirdest shit in there. The stuff you can't find anywhere else. The large sized brushed nickel fist complete with forearm. That thing is like $300. That store is in the heart of West Hollywood, aka homoville. It's bound to have the top of the line in freakery. The Adult Boutique I speak of is in the heart of the valley, aka pornoville. This store seemingly legit, clean and tidy catered not to the woman and her needs, but to the heterosexual male. Nothing could be more boring in a sex shop than a straight frat dude. To say their selection of faux male genitalia wasn't up to par is an understatement, but they did have some sort of penis chest harnest.
What is that contraption you say? Well, it's a strap on penis, but instead of strapping it to your crotch ala girl on girl style or transgendered style, you strap it to your chest. Why on earth would you strap a fake penis to your chest? Exactly my query. It's so you can penetrate the person that you are pleasuring orally. I know. I was so confused. I had to look up the stenciled drawing on the back. This was a gay man toy and I still didn't understand. I should have been tipped off by the big naked bear in the chain leather, but no, I had to get the visual. Oh! He sits on your chest and you blow him. It's a menage trois without the trois, it's a menage a deux with 3 cocks. I'm up to speed now. Well, that's the only exciting thing I found in the Adult Boutique if you don't count the hooker/stripper combo at the front desk trying to look like a customer and not an employee. I also noticed that in a red lit doorway they had a dry erase board numbered 1. 2. 3. with names next to numbers like Cinnamon and Liza. I imagined a peepshow somewhere between the sanitary version of a LL Cool J music video and those splooge stained booths of Minnesota ala Candy Girl. I high tailed it out of there. The counter dude didn't even greet me upon my entrance or exit. Fuck you whitey. You're not getting my money.
Still on my dildo quest, I went to the Romantix up the block. Hey, I live in the valley. There are sex shops everywhere. Actually, all of LA is like that. Anyway, Romantix is a chain of sex shops. Legit if you will. It's like the Hustler Club except its not attached to a strip club. I walked in the two clerks were like HEY! I'm like wassup! Now, that's service. They didn't hover me like a security guard shadowing black youths in Macy's. They were just like what's up, we like sex too, top of the morning to ya. I felt like I was in Cheers. Now, there are variety of dildos, but what I was really after was a vibrator but the step up. Let me explain. Dildos are big rubber cocks that do nothing. You have to do all the work. It's like a lazy man. A vibrator is either shaped like a cock or a tampon and it vibrates like a sonic toothbrush or an electric razor. I don't get it. The next tier looks like a power drill. This is where you need to be. They look intimidating because they're a good foot plus long, but only half of that is penetrable penis. 4 inches of that is batteries and control settings. The gem of this monstronsity is that the head of the penis rotates perfect for those of us who have a phantom g-spot, the middle rotates a bunch of beads that stimulate the vaginal entrance where most of your nerves are and there's usually some girly animal ala dolphin or bunny or butterfly welded to the front to that vibrates on its own setting for clitoral stimulation. You can set that thing on blender or hurricane.
Basically its fool proof climax. You don't have do anything. You don't have to think sexy thoughts, watch porn, read romance novels, be in the mood. You'll come in 3 minutes flat. It's like a quick and dirty pop song. In and out and on with your day. Do it when you're stressed, horny, can't sleep or just bored. The problem is, its so quick and satisfying, you'll want to it again, and again and again. It's like crack. Or if you're not a drug addict, it's like fresh baked cookies, new shoes, a new car. You just want to eat the whole batch, buy one more pair, count down the minutes until you can drive it again. Just like chronic porn ruins sex for guys; chronic dildo use must do the same for women.
But don't fear, I'll never give up my love affair with the real thing. I love the way men smell and feel and they weight of them on top of you. Occasionally, I like my sex to talk back to me and not just hum like an appliance. I like to cuddle and giggle and sleep and fuck again. Things you can't do with something that you can stick in a sock drawer. Besides, its not the destination, its the journey.
But for right now, I'll settle for the destination. Oh, yeah, don't get that shit lost up there.