The 'Boy You Looked So Good I Could Have...' PlayList

I’ve been laying back and daydreaming this summer away. Sometimes I get caught up in the eye candy – in all the guys I’m not allowed to touch. I'd like to pretend that these things never cross my mind, that I'm just as gentle and harmless as a fly. But the hot & bothered look is getting harder to disguise. I’m trying really hard to be good. This is my summer of no casual hookups…my quest for more soul searching and less lip locking, less fondling, less nibbles on the neck, less sitting on the sofa so close that I can smell the soap off your just showered body.
I chew gum when I’m anxious or antsy and looking for something to do other than what I shouldn’t be doing. Needless to say I’ve been chewing a whole lot of gum since June.

This weekend I was at a block party that was full of good music and good vibes. Not to mention, some very tasty looking guys. And you know me – they walk by, the soundtrack in my head starts thumping and I start molesting people with my mind. What can I say, it was a hot and sultry day flowing freely with tunes and libations. Since I was a perfect lady and went through an entire pack of Orbit while keeping my hands to myself I’d like to release my frustration and post my ‘take me’ music here. What I love is how every guy brings a different song and a different vibe.

So enjoy my, “boy you looked so good I could have had you…
up against the wall,
down on the curb,
during the second set of that band,
while you were playing guitar,
sitting in that chair,
on that stoop,
on the rooftop,
as you were pushing that last bite of food into that lovely little mouth of yours” playlist.

Sexy Saturday Video

Sorry guys, today is not your day -- now is your last chance to look away.

Ladies, I'm willing to bet most of you have never seen this video before. This is D'Angelo's 'How Does It Feel'.

Rumors circulated once this came out, some say he had some help in achieving that look of ecstasy toward the end ;) Guys protested, saying that only a 'self-absorbed ass' would film something like this.

When all was said and done, and the camera started dipping lower and lower no one gave a rat's ass what people said. I mean now, as you're watching, is anything important really coming to mind?

Nah, I didn't think so.

The Middleman

Middlemen are reliable friends that serve as a go-between. Sometimes labeled: The Listener. Dubbed: The Cleaner. Alias: The Fixer. All arguments, love stories, trials, secrets, pondering, and revelations within the group are made in confession like ways to Middleman. These creatures of habit hold a thankless job requiring the ability to multi-task, decipher code, plan and prepare to prevent future mishaps, an eye for detail, and a great deal of tact. Middlemen shuffle information around like Recon Missions. They understand who needs to know what, and when – if at all.

For example…my middleman went on a road trip with a friend whom I’ve had my eye on. During their conversations my middleman made note of all dialogue that directly pertained to me. If the dialogue went astray he skillfully geared it back – without arousing suspicion. Afterwards, he filtered out what he believed should stay on a need-to-know basis, and delivered the rest to me. Now I know where I stand with the aforementioned friend - key information that helped me avoid a potentially embarrassing situation. In turn, I realize that any comments I made regarding that person was sent through the same filtering process and systematically delivered to the friend. You must always assume that he is the other friend's Middleman as well. So you only ask the questions you don’t mind being mentioned in return. Only fill your Middleman with information that you are not ashamed to have repeated.

Maybe you think it’s a horrible mistrust to use a Middleman to take care of my dirty business, but we all use one, maybe he or she is not on the books, maybe its’ just under the table work. But it’s completely legit because everyone is aware of the middleman’s job – he isn’t covert. You don’t think both parties are aware of the Middleman – please. They might not want to acknowledge the existence and need for one but they’re sure as hell not above using one.

All you need is an organized system; simple ground rules, perhaps you should add a disclaimer if you want to make absolutely sure your information stays with only him. Just make sure your disclaimer is mentioned at the start of the conversation to avoid confusion for the Middleman, information not officially sworn in at the beginning of a conversation can be stored in the wrong part of the Middleman’s brain and can therefore be sensitive to leaks.

There are a few minor medical side effects for the Middleman. Too much information coming in and not enough information going out can bring on bouts of nervous twitching, ulcers, migraines, high stress levels, addictions, lapse in memory, and occasionally temporary slap marks (due to information begged for, but not accepted relay). As of late my Middleman has started to exhibit these signs of job stress. The charts he used to keep up with all the information coming in versus what he doled out has started to converge-everything is a blur.

I used to be able to combat the symptoms by coaxing him into his favorite diner (familiarity is an essential key), tempting him with a stack of warm buttermilk pancakes, and a side of corned beef hash (comfort food). I’d wait until I could see the glaze of warm syrup that spread across his Pancake Mountain reflected in his eyes. Ever so slightly I’d increase the level of coffee in his cup (speeds up the heart rate, upping the level of information received). But now, he’s unresponsive to any motivational tricks.

Yes, my Middleman is running out of steam. They say that Middleman don’t have long careers, something about lack of job advancement/quick burnout. Frankly, I’m afraid he’s faking it all, trying to buy time in order to unionize. Then they’ll all start striking, demanding things like…salaries, therapy reimbursement, health benefits, personal days. So here I am abusing my writing privileges in order to thank him for everything – an attempt to quail the situation. I’m thinking about Middleman appreciation day…I wonder if that will work.

Sexy Saturday Video

I'll admit these days my weekends have been more for working than playing ;)
So this Saturday if you're slaving away like me, I give you permission to take a break and watch Chris Isaak's sinfully dreamy 'Wicked Game'.

Better yet, grab a cold beer first, press play and then wait for the tight shots.
I swear they'll make you feel like a perve watching from the corner.

Riding The Bitter Train - A.K.A. "The Other Woman"

You guys are killing me with the requests (which I love - don't stop) but I'm afraid it's going to reveal the more unpleasant side of me. So, 'Wronged Girl'...you wanted to know if I'd ever been dumped - YES! And if I had been dumped you wanted to know how I got over it. Well, I used to write a little column like this years ago for a small paper in NY and the week I got dumped I made myself feel better by killing him in my column. Here's an excert of what went to press. I'll give you my disclaimer before you start reading; "Breakups make you crazy." Read on:

"Here I am riding the bitter train today going “woo, woo” at every stop. Been traveling on an all day ticket and I plan on riding to the end of the line several times. I know the passengers would appreciate it if I’d stop pulling the cord for every station stop. But I wanna see every place: Slapsville, Poke-ka-eyeout, Rolloveranddie, and ShesnotasprettyasIam. Then maybe, just maybe, after a day of wandering around these places contemplating what reasons he could have possibly had for leaving me for another woman - I might stem the urge I have to hurt someone.

I’ve already had my daily coffee dosage which may not have been too smart seeing as how my hand is a little jittery right now, all I need is a it’s not you its me and I could end the man’s life with this here stirrer. A plastic straw right through the heart and I’ll suck out all his lies and box him with them. Gonna be like Tyson at a bad fight, the sight of my glove coming towards his pretty face is gonna make pee run down his leg like a little girl locked out of the house after drinking a Big Gulp.

I suppose this is a cautionary tale: when you’re traveling alone on the train you have lots of time to imagine and daydream because the miles in between bore you. Only… my daydreams are becoming a little disturbing. I’d worry, but I really think he should. I’ve been trying to keep the voices down to a minimum-really, no more Lou Rawls singing, You're Gonna Miss My Loving. No more clowns telling me to run him over with their little cars. Though, I have dreamed of stampeding elephants making him no more distinctive then the gum squashed into the ground. Then they could really call it the ‘Greatest Show on Earth’."

That's it - I'm not letting you see the rest because it just got insane. I don't even know why my editor let me print it. I really believe there's no right or wrong way to get over being dumped because the emotions need to run their course. Though I did get a really great piece of advice when I was going through it, "Don't waste your time thinking about someone who's not thinking about you."

Since the ladies who post here have always given great advice I open up the floor to them, perhaps they might have same sage advice for you.

It's Why He Isn't Calling You

To The Girl Who Emailed Me About Whether Or Not She Should Call Because He's Not,

I understand your anxiety. I have been there counting down the days till he calls, waiting for my phone to ring and signify his want to hear my voice. I've experienced the twenty-six days gone by and still nothing freak out. Those times where your fingers keep drifting towards the phone, they want to dial his number, but you've warned them that such behavior could get you hooked again.

But based on what you've told me it sounds like you gave away too much information too soon . This is why he hasn't returned your calls, and barely acknowledges your emails. If he does call you back, I'll bet you'll let slip that you’re upset by his behavior. Then, puzzled by the changing moods of his conversation you'll began to talk too much – rattling on about inane subjects just to fill the silence and the awkward moments in an last ditch effort to sustain this flailing conversation. I promise you that nothing good will come of that besides you instantly beginning to feel ill.

But if you do as most will anyway, remember the moment you started feeling ill because it's stemming from the dank, dark place in the pit of your stomach where all your insecurities dwell, just waiting to be regurgitated because you've come to the realization that you lost your cool points.

Don't feel bad, we women understand that the sheer emotion of liking a guy can somehow coax you into divulging more information in one sitting than he would have in an entire lifetime. It leaves you scrambling to try and remember all you said, what effect that had on him, what he might have been thinking about you as he listened to you ramble on, worse yet, how he views you now that he knows the whole shebang. And while you have eagerly divulged personal information, you'll find that afterwards, to recall anything he's said you’d have to scrape together his wanton words in order to make a complete sentence.


I think we get caught up on the sentiments, it's as if they were candy conversation heart messages. Packaged and disguised in array of pretty colors, they might as well be ‘artillery in a box’. The person you’re speaking with pulls back the tab on their box and drops one out; each piece a well sculpted curvature sent in to use as a smoke screen, fogging the brain. You’re dazed and can’t see through the well-scripted little phrases: “you’re cute,” “I love you,” “call me.” The more they use the more body blows they deliver. Eat enough of those and you’ll soon see they turn into chalk in your mouth; you’ll wind up scraping your tongue for the next half and hour.

Try to remember that too much information can be overwhelming and suffocating. Information about oneself should be dispensed over a goodly amount of time, to retain that fresh, oh so interesting viewpoint in their eyes.

So no, you're not going to fall to pieces if you don't hear from him…it's merely our vanity of wanting to be acknowledged that arouses those feelings. Just do yourself a favor and wait to hear from him first. Put yourself on a telephone strike – which is to say strike yourself with the telephone whenever the slightest urge to call him crosses your mind.

And the next time you talk, only reveal as little as humanly possible - keep some mystery alive there. Promise yourself that you’ll speak in as many words and syllables as released from the other person’s mouth, in order to gain even footing. Don’t allow the sound of their voice to make you become oh-so loosey-goosey. That fate will have them knowing the ABC’s of your entire world and you’ll somehow have only a fortune cookie idea of them…you’ll know everything and nothing at all. Give him sometime to digest what you've put out there.

*photo from Post Secret

And The Winner of the Best Sex Euphemism Is...

SKYLER'S DAD!!

He's won a copy of "The Guide to Getting It On" By Paul Joannides
One of my favorite thick ole' paperbacks. Let's hope he puts it to good use.

I don't think anyone can deny that his entry rocked the house with filth and creativity:

"making the 2 backed beast.
getting some.
getting lucky.
rock the house.
bow-chicka-bow-wow.
bumpin uglies.
doin the deed.
gettin busy.
goin at it.
horizontal bob or mambo.
hittin skins.
organ grinding.
laying track.
plowing field.
the old heave ho.
play hide the cannoli.
a squeeze and a squirt.
batter dip the corn dog.
taking the skin boat to tuna town.
fill the cream donut.
pour sour cream on the burrito.

and my personnel fav:
take “old one-eye” to the optometrist"

Congrats! I'll be contacting you for your address.

Sexy Saturday Video

If you are inside on this glorious Saturday then I'm gonna treat you right on this Sexy Saturday...

Watch Justin and Ciara get closer than you and I ever will to either of them.
And if watching Justin's lips going up the side of Ciara's face & Ciara's tongue grazing Justin's ear doesn't turn you on, check your pulse - cause you're dead.

Sex Euphemisms

Yesterday after reading Lilu's sexy innuendo fueled comment about last week's 'Sexy Saturday Video', I went crazy trying to list all the sex euphemisms I could think of. I even enlisted (rather forced) my friends to help - I think we made a decent go of it. But I feel like I must at least hit 50 before I'll feel satisfied.

So put on your dirty thinking caps and let's finish this list together! I want that comment section filled with filth! The best euphemisms is gonna win a dirty, dirty prize ;)

1. King my Castle


2. Rock my Boat


3. Swim to my Shore


4. Blow on my Whistle


5. Cream in my Coffee


6. Butter my Bread


7. Pour some sugar on me


8. Float my Boat


9. Clean the Pipes


10. Swing in my Jungle


11. Ride my Pony


12. Ring my Bell


13. Knocking Boots


14. Doing the Bump


15. Mattress Mambo


16. Horizontal Hokey-Poke with a Hot Beef Injection


17. Making Whoopee


18. Doing the Deed


19. Gettin' her Done


20. Putting in Work


21. Stuffing the Turkey


22. Putting the Pig in the Blanket


23. Cushion Pushing

*photo by Heathre

Sexy Saturday Video

Please don't be in front of a computer reading this!
It's the freaking 4th of JULY!
Instead, I hope you're at a BBQ viewing this on your iPhone.

I'm with some sexy Desi's right now - which made me this of this video.
So what if only half of it is in English... no one's supposed to be paying
attention to that anyway.  At least, not with all these sexy dancers in the background.

And my god, if Abhishek Bachchan doesn't float my boat.