Should I go indoor tanning while pregnant, or will that harm the baby?
Wow. Really? It’s a tanning bed, not a microwave.
Also, if you thought there was an actual risk to your baby, wouldn’t this be the kind of stupid question you should ask your doctor instead of some party girl on the internet? You have a doctor, right?
Ugh. Fifty bucks says you’ve already referred to your fetus as Snooki.
Do you feel like a strong and self-realized man could still be against open relationships? Or is that by definition impossible to you?
Chill out, vanilla bean. Don’t get all snippy because you’re on team monogamy.
Self-realization isn’t about a particular belief system. It’s about being in tune with who you are. It’s about a certain awareness and fulfillment of character.
All I said was that it takes a strong, self-realized man to handle an open relationship, and it does. That in no way implies that self-realization is exclusive to folks in open relationships.
A strong, self-realized man could very easily be against open relationships for himself, but unless it was his true nature to be a total asshole, he still wouldn’t be against open relationships for others.
My husband and I wanted to try and open our relationship. We were fine for a bit, but now he seems really jealous. He doesn’t want to be open anymore which is fine. He can’t seem to get over my having sex with other men. He says its different for men then women. He can no longer look at me the same. Any ideas on how to fix this?
Which part do you want fixed, your marriage or the double standard?
Either way, you’re gonna have to lay down some tough love, because your husband is acting like a spoiled little bitch.
He’s perfectly happy sticking his dick in another man’s wife, but the sight of you getting a good pounding from another dude sends him into fits of infantile, hyper-possessive jealousy. Ugh. There’s one like him at every party.
For the record, it is not different for men than women. Swinging is a two way street. He only says that bullshit because he’s weak and unevolved, and you know what? Fuck him for saying it in the first place.
Also, it’s not you that he sees differently. It’s his own manhood. His ego has been wounded, and as pathetic as this sounds, you’re gonna have to either stroke it until it heals or smack it until it toughens up.
It takes a strong, self-realized man to handle an open relationship. You don’t have one of those. Yet.
Good luck dragging his ass into enlightenment.
I am a self-respecting woman in a happy relationship based on mutual trust & respect. When I masturbate, I fantasize about being treated like an object. Head pushed down into someone’s lap; being taken home from a bar and asked to have a threesome; forced to do things I do not want to do. Shit I would be repulsed by/would not tolerate if it actually happened. Sometimes after getting off, I feel dirty for even thinking those things. I’ve heard the term “rape fantasy” being thrown around; can you shed some light on the issue?
Your first sentence translates roughly into, “I’m not a freak.” Then your next three sentences break down into, “but I like to get freaky.”
I know it seems like an oversimplification, but believe me, that’s your problem right there. It’s called cognitive dissonance, and it’s the end result of living in a culture that still shames women for their sexual desires.
We all have a dark and sticky place we go to in our minds when we’re trying to get off. Every last one of us does it, not every time, but we’ve each got a basement with some dripping nasty shit locked away in it.
Thing is, you feel guilty for it, so your psyche bakes up little Freudian pie filled with repression, displacement, and sublimation and serves you up a hot slice of rape fantasy.
It’s delicious and guilt free, because it allows you to experience all that dark sexual desire without owning it. If it’s against your will, you don’t have to take any responsibility for the shit you want done to you hard and twice.
Of course, after you cum there’s that moment of clarity where there’s really no denying how you got yourself off, so you catch that wave of guilt.
Quit feeling the guilt. You’ve got no reason to be ashamed, and quite frankly, you’re getting off to pretty garden variety stuff.
Now, I’m not speaking for all rape fantasies here, just your type where it’s more about submission and surrendering free will. There’s a whole other level where it’s actually about violence and self-annihilation and other horrible shit that stems from unhealthy places.
Don’t worry. That ain’t you.
Oh, and do yourself a favor. Don’t get all brave and ask your boyfriend to try it out on you. Planning out a role play version of a rape fantasy is an exercise in logical paradox that ends up being a silly Dane Cook punch line.
Trust me, what you’re interested in is called dominance and submission. You’re a sub. Start out light. Have fun.
I’m trying a long-distance relationship for the first time. I really care about the girl, but I have always had a hard time keeping it in my pants. I’ve never really cheated – but in this instance I feel like it might eventually happen. Got any advice?
You’re asking a woman who is at this very moment doing her level fucking best to execute a dignified and graceful resolution to a loving and devoted long distance relationship that has, at least for now, run its course.
Bad timing, shitbird. I’m about to fuck up your whole world.
A long distance relationship isn’t something you casually try for the first time like Thai food or anal sex. A long distance relationship is something you do because you absolutely motherfuckingly have to, and it’s bittersweet and painful and unbearable and you can’t live without it, which I suppose is still pretty much like Thai food or anal sex, but you get my point.
If all you can say is, “I really care about the girl,” that isn’t even close to enough. You better love that crazy bitch with every last ounce of douche you’ve got coursing through your veins. Otherwise, you’re setting yourself up to fail.
And what’s all this about eventually cheating? Quit planning to fuck up. Fidelity isn’t inversely proportional to distance, asshole. There are no teen sex comedy loopholes in real life.
Feel free to work out an open arrangement, but if you decide to go traditional, you better have the requisite integrity. Keep it in your motherfucking pants, or be honest about the fact that you can’t. It’s that simple.
I just spent a solid, passionate year loving someone across hundreds of miles of pacific coast highway. It was the loneliest year of my life, punctuated by the most blissed-out orgiastic episodes of heroin-grade happiness I’ve ever known.
It’s an unnatural thing to maintain burning desire at a distance. You’ve gotta be an emotional athlete to handle the highs and lows. It requires a heart that’s pure and strong, and brother, I don’t think you’re in shape for it.
I’d wish you good luck, but it’d be wasted on your weak-ass shit. Long distance is for hardcore motherfuckers on fire.
You ain’t ready.
I am planning on taking Molly with my boyfriend this weekend, and I wanted to ask your thoughts on sex while rolling. I’ve heard the rumor that once you have sex on it, you don’t desire sex when you’re not rolling because it’s so amazing. So, my question is, if I fuck while rolling, will I still be able to enjoy sober sex as much as I do now?
You capitalized Molly, which at first glance implied that you and your boyfriend were going to kidnap and have your way with some poor girl named Molly.
This struck me as particularly funny, because as many of you know, there is a Molly triumvirate out there in the tumbleverse made up of Molly Young, Molly McAleer, and Molly Lambert. Follow them immediately if you don’t already.
What struck me as funny was how each of them in their own unique voice would react and then write about a literal interpretation of the above scenario where they were the Molly in question. So yeah, that’s how my mind works. I have a fucked up sense of humor sometimes.
Anyways, when you’re referring to ecstasy as molly, don’t capitalize it.
Also, don’t listen to dumb rumors. Sex is sex. You’ll still love it just as much sober, I promise. The only grain of truth to that rumor is that in the day or two after you party on ecstasy, your brain is depleted of serotonin. You may or may not experience what’s known as an ecstasy crash where you feel kinda shitty and depressed. If that happens, you won’t feel like fucking in the first place. It’s no big deal. It passes.
As for sex on ecstasy, I’ll repeat what I’ve already said:
Ecstasy is a sensual drug, not a sexual drug. By itself, it has a tendency to delay orgasm in women, and it makes it damn near impossible for guys to get it up. You can make out all night like teenagers in love, but there won’t be much fucking if you don’t plan ahead.
If you know you want to fuck, the trick is have your man pop a viagra when he drops the ecstacy. That’s a recipe for mind-blowing all-night-long sex. Just be sure to stay hydrated, and use plenty of lube.
I know this may sound silly, but Halloween has been my favorite holiday since I was a child and is still important to me. I work in the food industry and thinking ahead, I filled out a time off request form for my work and turned it in the week of August 17. I thought that given my forethought and consideration for my employer and boss, I would definitely have the day off, and I didn’t hear otherwise so I even began to plan my costume. To my surprise, I was greeted today (about two weeks later) with a huge sign on my boss’s door saying, “don’t bother requesting Halloween off, all requests will be denied.” I would like to know if this is legal and if I have any rights as an employee. I’m more than willing to suck it up if they are doing things correctly, but if not, I’d like to at least try and talk to my boss about this situation with some reassurance that they don’t have the authority to ban day off requests.
I’m gonna go ahead and assume that you’re not in a union or under contract, in which case, sure, you have plenty of rights as an at-will employee. For instance, you have the right to to quit, strike, or otherwise cease work if you’d rather go party on Halloween.
Your boss has plenty of rights too. Whether you show up on Halloween or not, he can shit-can your ass for good cause, for bad cause, or for no goddamned cause at all.
As long as your employer is paying you the minimum wage, he can do pretty much whatever he wants short of violating your civil rights or trying to fuck you.
Sorry, but the only leverage you’ve got here is your degree of irreplaceability, and in this economy, I guarantee you that ain’t much.
If you’re not willing to quit, then all you can do is say please. Good luck with that, and I hope your Halloween costume comes with kneepads.
How do you be a female player while maintaining your integrity and not becoming a “ho”? I’m a single young female with a great job, I’m disgusted by my boring friends who give up their own lives to be with their lame boyfriends, and I want to prove that there’s an alternative. If you could give specifics that would be most helpful.
You don’t need me to tell you how to maintain your integrity. You have a conscience for that. Listen to it.
Have standards. Have your own moral code. Be true to it, and you’ll be fine.
Also, don’t have anything to prove. Your lifestyle isn’t an alternative to anyone else’s. It’s what works for you. If you don’t want friends to judge your promiscuity, then don’t judge their boring lives with lame boyfriends.
Live and let live. Fuck and let fuck.
How do you manage to work full time and still have a personality?
I’m just fucking fabulous like that, I guess.
Should I apply to model naked for Terry Richardson?
Apply to college or for a job, not to be hipster camera meat.
What is your opinion of Glenn Beck?
Like all evil clowns, he probably eats children.
Christ on a cracker! Where do you get off?
Now I’m imagining a party tray of little messiah hors d’oeuvres.
Why do people get married?
Cultural programming.
Should I get a kitten?
No. Get a puppy.
I’m making him wait to fuck me. Bad idea?
Not if it’s your step dad.
how rude is it to say “that it ?” when the guy comes a few minutes in.
Rude. Hilarious. It really depends on your inflection.
What is your favorite insult?
Total fucking indifference.
Is sex boring to you?
Not mine.
when do I stop fucking all my guy friends?
December 21st, 2012
Are the questions we ask anonymous?
Unless you tell me your name, yes.
I was around for the 80s wave of cocaine fun. It fucked up more people in my personal circle of acquaintances than any other drug. When I say, “fucked up” I mean: driven to suicidal despair because they couldn’t kick. So, they committed suicide. This, unfortunately, happened more than once as you will no doubt deduce from the use of the third person plural. I also mean: death by overdose. I also mean: careers and lives ruined, as well as collateral damage on an operatic scale.
I know ex-junkies of various stripes, including booze, heroin, and cigarettes. The heroin kickers, in my experience, often make it through, along with the others.
I don’t know any ex-coke heads. They all died.
Now, I’ve done some white lines, and was able to draw some lines. So yeah, you can be all “Trotsky did it, and Freud did it” (along with a lot of other annoying, teeth-grinding egomaniacs). Many of them survived, and perhaps enjoyed some especially wonderful insights and very deeply satisfying sex.
But to be so cavalier and defensive about raising the issues of its dangers is beneath the general level of intelligence you offer up here (often accompanied by your rebranded Dr. Laura tough talk. (Seriously, are you Jewish, or what?)
I find your touchiness about marital infidelity quaint and charmingly Victorian; I guess that same Victorianism applies to your attitude about cocaine as well.
You find me quaint and charmingly Victorian? Wow. That’s about the nicest way anyone has ever come off as a condescending prick. Normally, I’m one to respect my elders, but I don’t appreciate being compared to Dr. Laura, so if you wouldn’t mind, please go fuck yourself.
That being said, I understand where you’re coming from. It’s the same now as it was in the eighties. The chaos you describe is the hallmark of drug abuse in any decade, and it’s brutal shit. Still, drug use is not the same as drug abuse. I’ve always been clear about the distinction, and when it comes to addiction, you’ll never catch me being cavalier.
Also, I’m gonna call bullshit on you not knowing any ex-coke heads. I appreciate your dramatic flair, but who are we fucking kidding? Pretty much everyone you know from that era technically qualifies, yourself included.
Oh, and in all seriousness, I’m very sorry to hear about the people in your life who didn’t make it. I know how horrible it feels to bury someone who died too young, and I’ve seen the kind of havoc suicide wreaks on a circle of friends.
Thanks for reading, and feel free to write me back about your mid life crisis.