i have a quick question. it seems like los angeles is dead. i can’t remember the last time i went out and have actually said to myself, wow this is fun. has LA changed or have i changed? is it time to find something new? or find someWHERE new. bored.
Yes, Los Angeles changed. So did you.
Shit is cyclical, though.
It’ll come back.
So will you.
First off, your wording gives me a girl boner. I wish my boyfriend were here right NOW because reading about blowing rails off of nine inches of rock hard celebrity cock has me in a big hurry to tear the pants off of someone.
My question is this- how do you pull it off? How do you keep a dick hard and steady while you line the shit up and get down there with a straw? I’m visualizing sudden limpness or an involuntary muscle spasm dumping a gram onto rumpled sheets. Just a question of method, really- to be applied asap.
A fucking straw? It’s not a glass of iced tea, babe. It’s a hot throbbing cock balancing a tidy pile of cocaine. You put your nose on that shit.
Proper placement is key, and we’re talking about bumps here, not lines. I recommend the middle of the shaft. Only put blow on the head of his cock if he has a tendency to ejaculate prematurely.
I usually don’t need to worry about keeping the dick hard. The kind of guy who likes blow on his cock is the kind of guy who has a stash of Viagra.
Other tips include making sure things are relatively dry, and never forgetting to lick up every last trace of powder. If he fucks you with a dusty dick, your shit will go so numb it won’t be worth anyone’s time.
In looking for an apartment in a new city, I was shown one I loved. When I tell the leasing agents I’m ready to put in my application I was told that unit is no longer available. And so begins their game of bait-and-switch. I’m then shown something similar and acceptable only to hand over my deposit & 1st month’s rent and receive the keys to an entirely different apartment. I catch them as they are about to leave the leasing office, collect the “correct” keys and find that they’re offering me still the WRONG apartment. How the hell do I bail now that they have my cashier’s check in hand?
You signed a lease, didn’t you? It explicitly states the address and apartment number of the unit that you are renting, does it not? There you go. Point to that line in the lease and in the voice of your favorite character from The Usual Suspects say, “hand me the keys, you fucking cocksucker.”
Don’t let people dick you around. Get up in their shit. Make them honor their agreement. Don’t bother threatening legal action, either. That just makes you look naive. Be a nuisance instead.
If you’d rather just be done with it, then let them know. Keys or cashiers check, you’re walking out of that office with something.
Whatever your demands are, be firm and be clear. Make noise. Start a file and document everything. Take down everyone’s full name. If someone tells you no, demand to speak to their supervisor. Keep kicking shit uphill until somebody listens. Ruin their day until they give you what you want.
Even if it’s your dumb-ass fault for signing a shady lease agreement without reviewing it first, don’t let them take advantage of you.
I’m just going to be blunt. My boyfriend has a small dick, and when we have sex it is not as fun as it could be.
What the fuck can do I do, besides telling him that his dick is too small? I dont want to come off like a greedy dick bitch, but still, i have sexual needs that aren’t being fufilled.
You’re not going to fulfill your sexual needs by crushing his ego, and his dick ain’t gonna grow. No good will come from you pointing out his golf pencil.
He’s got a tongue and ten fingers, doesn’t he? Make him use all he’s got.
Otherwise, just go ahead and break up with him. Do him the honor of never revealing why, though. No man deserves that.
I love reading both your blog and your answers to these questions. There’s something raw and funny about your writing style. Your life seems full of glamour, passion, and some sick parties—the kind of life I dream of living someday. Thing is, I’m not like that. As much as I want to be a glamorous badass, I don’t live up to my daydreams. I’m in college, and I don’t go out partying every weekend. I have a boyfriend whom I love and I don’t want to sleep with anyone else. I like staying in and watching movies. I don’t have a sweet group of hardcore bitches. I usually can’t drag myself to go out more than once a weekend when I do. I’m just… boring. I’m not the kind of person you would want to know. I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure how to word this quality I’m trying to describe… basically, can your flavor of awesome be learned, or is it something with which one must be born? Should I give up my rockstar fantasies and become content with my quiet nights of Arrested Development and Chinese takeout? I do enjoy them, but I’ve always imagined I’d be someone else at this age.
Are you happy? Yes? Then shut the fuck up and enjoy movie night.
Don’t assume I wouldn’t want to know you, either. I happen to love Arrested Development and Chinese takeout. I also love blowing rails off nine inches of rock hard celebrity cock, so yeah. You lead your life, and I’ll lead mine.
Besides, you’ve got plenty of time after college to come out to Los Angeles and dip your tits in the glitter and madness.
Do you have any advice for girls that are afraid to be rude even when the time calls for it? I have a problem with this in particular. I have been put in various situations where being too nice has led me to get burned. I’m not talking relationship wise; I have no problem being a bitch to stupid boys. I mean just in general with creepy fucking strangers (all of the male variety). There is no rhyme or reason to my problem, except maybe I’ve always been shy when first meeting someone and tend to err on the safe side for fear of offending, despite what could be dangerous circumstances. For instance, I have been “sexually assaulted” (aka straight up groped) by a fucking old creep I used to buy coffee from every day. When it happened, I didn’t drop my coffee and run… I acted normal, played it cool. It’s like I freeze up and my instincts of fight or flight disappear. Time and time again this happens, though the results have never been as extreme. What the fuck can I do to be make myself a bitch that sick fucks are afraid to even look at?
It’s interesting that you mention your fight or flight instinct. Fresh theory suggests that as a woman, you may have an altogether different threat response known as tend and befriend.
I don’t know enough about the theory to apply it to your behavior, but I’m willing to bet that if you look into it yourself, you’ll gain some insight into why you’re passive when under threat.
In the meantime, go take a few Krav Maga classes. That shit is no joke.
I am a virgin, who just wants to have sex, but my Christianity is standing in my way, and so are my morals. But still I just want to fuck.
You’re a mammal. Of course you just want to fuck.
Problem is, you’ve had religious poison poured into your furry head from a young age, and now you’re confused and ashamed of your own animalistic nature.
Of course christianity is standing in your way. That’s what it does. It demands that you surrender your rational thought. It dulls your curiosity. It warps your morality. It destroys your potential for enlightenment.
Oh yeah, and it corrupts one of the most beautiful expressions of the human experience, your sexuality.
Your virginity isn’t the problem here. Your religion is.
May you lose both when the time is right.
I hope it feels wonderful.
My boyfriend and I have been together for a while now, but due to my last (rough) breakup- involving physical and emotional abuse- I can’t quite settle into this relationship. It’s unfair to my current boyfriend (who’s apparently head over heels), but as far as I know, he’s willing to wait it out. But I don’t know how long it’ll take before I’m comfortable enough to open up to him. I love him, but he doesn’t deserve to wait around for me to deal with my baggage. What should I do?
Keep him. Dump him. It’s entirely up to you. Just don’t let him sit around being a distraction while you get your shit together. Either he helps you heal, or he gets the fuck out of the way.
Waiting around is useless and passive, not just in a relationship — in any endeavor. He’s your fucking boyfriend. He doesn’t get to play the role of innocent bystander.
You’ve got some real shit to deal with, and he’s just hanging out with a love-stoned grin on his face thinking he’s doing you a favor by merely existing. Bullshit. He’s either part of the solution, or part of the problem.
Given the way you phrased this question in terms of his emotional needs, I’m inclined to think that at the moment, he’s more part of the problem.
Don’t make your path toward healing be about him. This is about you.
Get selfish. You’re not on his schedule. He’s on yours, and you’re under no obligation to ever open up to him. That’s not the goal. The goal is for you to process your past abuse through self-exploration so you can move on.
Once again, I say get selfish. I know it goes against your nature to put yourself first, but that’s part of your underlying problem. Fuck what’s “unfair” to your boyfriend. Do what you need to do, babe.
Take care of yourself.
Good luck.
I’m curious about something you said in “On the Obvious Choice”. I’m a sophomore in college majoring in fine art, because its what I love to do and what makes me happy. I’m intelligent; I score in the 99 percentile on every standardized test I take (not that that means a whole lot). I could be a doctor if I wanted to or an engineer or whatever. Does that fact make me “the world’s worst kind of asshole?” Where does doing what you love and following your dream come in?
Intelligent though you may be, you’ve missed my point.
Of course, do what you love. Follow your dreams. The world needs artists as much as it needs doctors and engineers. You’ve chosen a noble field, and given your talents I’m sure you’ll make the world a better place.
My comment was aimed at theology, a ridiculous field of study for those who have surrendered their rational thought to the corrupt and inherently anti-intellectual institution of religion, but who nonetheless wish to putter through the halls of academia pursuing pseudo-philosophical whimsy.
Let me make a further distinction between theology and religious studies. I’m all for religious studies. It has sociological and anthropological value, and it’s an academic discipline worthy of respect.
The difference is that theology requires a level of religious faith, or at the very least a commitment to the underlying truth of whatever religion is being studied. That’s where I draw the line and call bullshit. So yeah, this is me being harsh on theology. It’s my opinion, and I only offer it because I was asked.
If you’re the kind of person who wants to waste a graduate level education dissecting the irrational nuances of your imaginary friend in the sky, I consider you an asshole, and if you do so when you had the means and opportunity to enter a legitimate profession where you could have otherwise been saving lives, I consider you the worst kind of asshole.
But hey, I’m a total bitch, so what do I know?
Seriously, I just got back from a screening in Malibu, and I’m still kinda drunk. I just re-read this shit, and while I’m pretty sure I’m getting my point across, I also want to double-down on the whole follow-your-dreams thing.
Really. Do what you love in this life, and don’t let people like me make you second guess yourself. Even assholes should follow their dreams. That’s what makes the world go ‘round.
Okay. I’m just gonna shut up and go to bed now.
Med school, peace corps, or theology grad school?
Really? A priest, a hippie, or a doctor? Gee, I wonder which of those three the world needs more.
Don’t be an asshole. Go to medical school.
If you still want to save the third world in a few years, feel free to join Doctors Without Borders. Those bad ass motherfuckers eat peace corps pussies for breakfast.
Oh, and it should be explicitly stated: if you choose to waste your time with an advanced degree in theology when you’re capable of becoming a medical doctor, you are the world’s worst kind of asshole.