Texting with a friend in California:
Friend: “The guy who owns the doughnut shop by my house looks a bit like Shaun T.”
Me: “Right, then. So I’ll hop a plane out there first thing tomorrow?”
Friend: “He sells Fruity Pebbles doughnut, too.”
Me: “What?! SHIT. I need that in my face. (I’ll leave it up to you whether I’m referring to the man or the doughnut. I haven’t quite decided myself.)”
Me: “I think it’d have to be, yeah. Man first, though — I’m gluttonous, not stupid.”
Friend: “You could try the infamous Cosmo suggestion of a doughnut on a penis.”
Me: “I was thinking that, but didn’t want to be weird.”
I’m all about supporting small, local businesses any way I can, you guys.
Remember that time I liked an OkCupid guy enough to talk on the phone?
And how he mentioned his teeth were “fake,” and I thought, “Oh, he probably has veneers. Those look so natural, dentistry is amazing. Tra la la…?”
And how later we got to talking about oral sex (as you do), and he said he’s been told he’s great at it because he has “more room to open up and maneuver around?”
And then how my brain doubled back and I ventured, “Do you mean you take…the teeth out…when you…?”
And how he was just like, “Yeah!,” as if “gummilingus” were the hot new thing in the latest Cosmo and I was totally behind the times?
And then how I died? Remember that? REMEMBER HOW I DIED?
Man. Good times.
That is all true. I could not make that up. Fucking Chuck Palahniuk couldn’t make that up.
I need to go take 600 boiling hot showers, and then surely there’s some fancy spa treatment where you sit all day in a vat of Purell? Right. Shut up and take my credit card, and let us never speak of this again.
I subscribe to a few magazines geared toward women, but mostly they’re about health and fitness, or household stuff like Martha Stewart Living, but never strictly WOMEN’s magazines like Marie Claire and Cosmo, just because I feel like I’m too old for that shit, and the way they write infuriates me.
But…goddammit, this made me happy, and now I have to buy Glamour. Shit.
(Worse, I ended up subscribing, because it’s $5 for a 6-month subscription and around $4 just to buy the one issue, so screw it. Five bucks for 6 months’ worth of potential blog material? AND a bonus tote bag?! BARGAIN.)
Via Cosmo and the ever-brilliant Anna Breslaw: 14 Things the Average Woman Thinks While Giving a Blowjob
My thoughts are usually (in no particular order):
1. “Am I doing OK? Is this working for him?”
2. “Ooh. He made a happy noise. Keep doing what made that happen.”
3. “Look how happy he is! For the honor of Grayskull, I have the POWER!”
4. “I hope he believes in reciprocity.”
5. “Ugh, would it be totally unsexy to put my hair in a ponytail so it stops going in my mouth? Yes, it would. Goddammit.”
6. “Gahhhhh, ow, fucking carpal tunnel!”
7. In the style of Larry Kubiak: “Sex now?”
You should read Anna Breslaw’s columns in Cosmo.
Choice quote: “…As far as I’m concerned, a photograph of an erect penis that I know and like is the equivalent of a bunch of flowers or a greeting card: I know he’s thinking of me.”