Thrill Of The Chase

Last night I did something completely out of character and went to a guy’s house before actually meeting him in a public place. Luckily we had been talking for a looooong time and he’d sent me a bunch of selfies. I wasn’t too worried and for once my recklessness did not lead me into a hilariously disastrous situation, so that was good. On the less bright side, this guy will henceforth be known as the Talker, because he did not shut up for a millisecond until we were both naked. Thank goodness he finally went quiet then, or I swear I would’ve just been like “Nope, fuck this shit” and hightailed it out of there. Nothing magical to speak of, though he does have a really nice car and he promised to take me on a drive in it at 140 mph, so I’ll definitely have to see him again.

Gotta be careful though. He seems like one of those guys that would be way to easy to conquer, you know what I mean? Like I know I could have him eating out of the palm of my hand in a couple weeks if I really wanted to, but that’s the thing – if I can tell that the win will be easy as pie, then I don’t really want to play the game. I’ve said a few times that I want many people to fall in love with me. It’s a pretty powerful thing to hold someone’s heart and be able to do whatever you want with it, and yes I know it’s a fucking shitty thing to want, but remember, narc writing here. But even though I want that, I also want the thrill of the chase. And not just any chase, but a very difficult one – an ultimate chase, as it were. I want the victory of holding a heart that very, very few other women could. If it’s too easy it’s boring.

With this guy it would be too easy, so I’m not interested. What a paradox, huh? Ah well. At least it will be fun for a little while.

In other news, I read this great article about using a grapefruit to give a blowjob. Apparently it feels really good. I posted the article on my Facebook and mentioned that I needed to find a willing victim to try it out on, because I think it would be fucking awesome to give a blowjob with a grapefruit. I LOVE grapefruit. So yummy! Anyway, someone jokingly suggested that I post a craigslist ad for my so-called willing victim. Obviously I wouldn’t actually contact anyone who’d reply off of craigslist, but can you imagine the kinds of responses I’d get? I’m very tempted to post the ad just for the funsies of being able to screenshot emails and post them here. We’ll see if I do or not, I’m kinda busy this week so I don’t have a whole lot of time to spend glued to the computer, but it seems like a ton of fun.

Mission Accomplished

Remember how AGES ago I mentioned the Tease? How both times I went over to his house we didn’t have sex (not really anyway) because he’s, well, a huge fucking tease? (And I got pissed off at his nonchalance toward condoms.)

Well last night I was desperately horny, like unusually horny, and NO ONE was answering my texts. So I shot one over to the Tease, just out of pure “why the hell not”-ness.

Turns out he was feeling pretty horny too, and he actually replied. Normally he’s that guy that doesn’t reply until days later, but tonight it was within five minutes. That was pretty exciting. Drove my cute little butt over to his house and no fucking surprise, he decided he wanted to tease me. For hoooouuurrrrsss. He literally forced me through FOUR games of pool. I was so bored I just kept missing the balls on purpose after a while, it was a little more entertaining. At least he offered me a couple drinks to take the edge off and help me maintain the sexy vixen attitude.

After we went upstairs to his room and made out a bunch and put our mouths in less appropriate places, and then we both passed out.


I mean it was like 4 in the morning at that point and to be fair his technique was pretty amazing, so I wasn’t too upset.

But! Fear not, for then there was the morning.

We woke and it was like all of the tease attitude had disappeared into thin air. Within minutes he was digging through his drawers and seconds later going cross-eyed as I slid down on him. Mmm mmm. Hot stuff, as I like to say! And needless to say it wasn’t for only a couple minutes either, it was a good long while, thank goodness.

We also had a conversation about possibly dropping acid together next weekend, so I think I’ve forgiven him for his past failures. Might even have to keep him around for a bit!


I guess I do understand, this obsession that people have with permanence. I was going to start this post off by saying I didn’t, but after some reflection, I do. Our lives are so short and fleeting and easily changed, it only makes sense that we’d want the opposite. More time, more security, more of the same.

I had an argument with some people about casual dating. They said that it was a waste of time – that there’s no point in meeting people and taking even a little time to get to know them and possibly jumping in bed with them if there’s no chance for a long-term relationship. I think it goes without saying that I disagreed. It’s not a waste of time to enjoy the company of other people. What else would you be doing with your life? Of course not all relationships are everlasting, and of course we can be discriminatory about the people we go on dates with. But why completely discount the idea of hanging out with someone that seems interesting a few times? How else are you going to find out if it’s a forever thing or not? If it’s not so be it, but to not take the chance at all?

Instead of appreciating the people that come into your life and treasuring the moments you have with them, you’re obsessed with your fear that those moments won’t last forever. If that’s not a waste of time, I don’t know what is.

I like the idea of forever too. Not ashamed to admit it. I’m equally unashamed to admit my desire for a unicorn. But I’ve also become much more realistic. We’re human. Very little is enduring for us, no matter how much effort we put forth. That’s especially true for our emotions. Sometimes no matter how hard you try to keep someone loving you, they stop. Sometimes no matter how hard you try to keep loving someone, you stop. Sometimes no matter how badly you want to stop, it’s impossible. That can’t be helped. Oh sure, we can help our actions – we don’t have to chase someone we’re in love with, and we don’t have to dump someone even if we don’t love them. But weren’t we just talking about NOT wasting time?

Maybe if some of us weren’t so terrified of not having permanence, some of us would be less terrified of commitment.

I get that the whole casual dating thing isn’t for everyone, and I imagine that mainly has to do with the casual sex aspect of it. That’s really fine. Don’t fuck people you don’t want to fuck. It’s pretty simple. But don’t for a moment think that it’s a waste of time to meet attractive, entertaining people for a few hours. At the very least if they’re weirdos you get a good story to tell people. Besides, it’s always a new experience – never gets too boring, that’s for sure.

It doesn’t bother me that some of the people I’ve met I’ll never talk to again. It doesn’t bother me that one day I won’t remember the Lawyer’s name. For now I’m having a blast spending time with him – and let me tell you, last night was fucking epic. Bondage and blindfolds and probably one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. My whole body was shaking. I don’t usually spend the night at his house but I practically passed out on his bed afterward, it was that intense. Exhaustingly awesome. Let me just throw in here how NOT a waste of time that was, teehee. Morning shower was pretty fun too.

One day we’ll go our separate ways. If anything is certain, it’s that. But why would I force that to happen prematurely, because I know it will? Why would I deny myself this excitement, this thrill, because one day I won’t have it? It makes me happy, and when this doesn’t or can’t make me happy anymore, I will find something else that will. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the only permanent aspect of your life is your attitude towards it. It’s not easy to have a positive outlook all the time. Sometimes it’s a battle you’ll lose, even. But for fuck’s sake, it’s worth the fight.

Here’s a unicorn casually dating:


So in my last post I said I was going to try to respond to every message I got on the dating site for a few days.



Anyone wanna take bets on how long I actually lasted before I called it quits? I’ll tell you in a second, but needless to say it wasn’t a few days.

Five hours. Five fucking hours of “That’s rude,” “Your loss,” and “Why even bother responding if you’re just going to be a cunt?”

You know what all those replies had in common? My message to them, after they initially contacted me, was a form “I don’t think we’re a good match, but have a nice day!” After the first couple hours it got reduced to “Not interested” or “No thanks” as the situation called for. Like in this message:



Well, that one was a good laugh at least. I’m just not even going to bother posting the other replies since they mostly fit into the category of ignoring my opinion on the matter completely and attempting to continue the conversation (so I ended up not responding to half of them anyway) or were asshole-ish.

And men wonder why women choose to just not respond. Such fucktards, if you’ll excuse my French. It’s cute to think that we ought to have the time and patience to go through every profile that says hello, but the fact of the matter is even long, supposedly “thought-out” messages are fucking copy-pastes. I’m not shitting you, I had one guy send me the exact same message last night that he had about a month ago. It was a paragraph about himself and how much in common he thought we had – except that it was utter bullshit, since it was clear he was using the same thing over and over again. It’s too bad I delete that shit regularly or I would’ve posted it on here.

Needless to say, I’m back to judgmental bitch “I’m only talking to people I’m actually interested in seeing naked” mode.

I think the conclusion of this social experiment is pretty obvious: responding to every message one receives is about as fun and productive as sticking needles under your own fingernails.

Moving right the fuck on.

I forgot to mention that I saw the Lawyer over the weekend again. He moved to a new place and asked me to help break it in. That was pretty flattering. I feel like the more time I spend in bed with him, the more childish I feel compared to him. It’s inevitable to wonder how a relationship with a fuck buddy would work out, even if it’s never going to happen, and in this case I’m now 100% certain it won’t. (Again, not that I wasn’t before, but it’s one thing to know that logically and another thing to realize, “Oh yeah, I definitely am not attracted to this guy in any way other than sexually.”) He’s cool alone but I feel like he would be embarrassed to bring me around his friends and I’d be embarrassed to bring him around mine. Chemistry only goes so far, you know?

I’m so fucking bored. Where are all the adventurous hot guys? The ones that want to go dancing on Fridays and skinny dipping on Saturdays and to cool concerts on Sundays? The ones that want to fuck for hours, like there’s no tomorrow? Maybe I need to get on a different dating site – maybe I wore this one out.

Social Experiment

I’ve decided that for the next few days (or less, we’ll see how long I can actually keep it up) I’m going to respond to every single message I get in my inbox on the dating site. Unless I’m super creeped out, in which case I’ll just respond with a block, hehe. Since I mainly only don’t reply to people that I’m not interested in, I imagine it will be a lot of messages where I say, “Not interested, thanks.” I’m curious to see how people react to straightforwardness.

I’ve already had a couple ridiculous conversations. They will be screenshotted and posted probably tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll do a big post of the most hilarious ones at the end of this little experiment. We’ll see!

Anyway, I imagine that most people don’t reply to every message they get. If you do, what are the most interesting reactions you’ve gotten?

Trying to garner all the data I can. (That’s what happens when you have a master’s degree in political science, aka the art of survey methodology and making people into numbers!)

Boys (And Girl)

The Lawyer is really fun in bed but I’ve started seeing his personality a little more too. He’s pretty hilarious and a little weird like me. Fun to hang out with, excited to see him again tonight.

Saw the Rockstar a couple days ago. Ugh, if the sex lasts less time than it takes me to drive to someone’s house, we’ve got a problem. Such a big difference from the last time around… I don’t get it.

Last night I went out dancing with the Fashionista. She brought along two guy friends and once we were all sufficiently drunk they were both all over me… It was so awkward. I am not remotely attracted to either of them and I kept dancing away from them, pretending I was too drunk to realize they wanted to grind on me.

Thank goodness for J, my fucking midnight hero. Or 2 am hero as the case might be. I texted him to see if I could go over there and thankfully he answered. I even showed the Fashionista our texts so she would be understanding when I left once the club started winding down. And I thought she was, but later on she sent me a text that went something along the lines of “You shouldn’t have left so early and suddenly, you’re always too busy for me.”

How do I explain to this chick that as interested as I am in her, her friends (fuck buddies I think actually) are the ones that make me keep wanting to leave? Without sounding like a cunt, obviously. And honestly I’m starting to lose interest in her too, she’s a bit too clingy. I need to figure this shit out – decide whether I want to keep trying to close the deal and then call it quits or just skip straight to the calling it quits part.

And as far as J is concerned, well it bears repeating that he’s awesome. I’d hang out with him all the time if I could. I guess that’s the downside of being someone’s fuck buddy though. At some point the fucking will end and we won’t hang out anymore, which really sucks. I’ve never quite mastered the art of turning a fuck buddy into an actual friend that I hang out with sans sex. The opposite transition is obviously much easier.

But he’s one of those people – I’m sure we’ve all met someone like this at some point – that you wish you’ll be able to know years down the road. It’s not easy to explain how you know that person is going to be even more amazing then than they are now, but you just know.

Epic Stupidity Level Unlocked

I did something so idiotic today that I’m legitimately embarrassed to be writing about this on here. Like I pride myself on not doing stupid shit with my body, but lo and behold, today I unlocked stupidity level: epic.

My period didn’t quite finish up yesterday like I had expected and there was still a teensy bit of bleeding today too. But I had plans set in stone to meet up with the Lawyer tonight, and no way in hell was I missing out on that after weeks of waiting. It was imperative that I think of a way to stop the flow, however minimal, for a couple hours. I’ve tried using those SoftCup things during sex – they’re bullshit. You can definitely feel they’re there.

So in my infinite fucking wisdom I decided to cut up one of those bath sponges and stick a bit up my cooch. I know what you’re thinking. “Narc, you’re a fucking moron.” Oh just you wait, it gets better. So I did a practice run with a bit of sponge. Stuck it up in there, waited a couple hours, pulled it back out. It was fine.

Stuck another piece in there for the evening. Went and had amazing sexy time. There was no trace of blood anywhere so I was congratulating myself on the drive home about how clever I was. Hurr hurr. (Kids, I’m telling you right now, don’t try this at home. It’s fucking DUMB.)

Got home, went to the bathroom, starting digging around for the sponge…

What sponge?

Uh, shit, where’s the fucking sponge??

Pushed out my insides a bit, dug a bit further, and finally I felt the tip of it ALL THE FUCKING WAY IN THE BACK. Like if it were any further up in there it would’ve been in my ovaries, I’m pretty sure. I could not get a hold on it with my fingers for the life of me, and I was reaching in there as far as I could. For a good 15 minutes I was twisting and turning and putting my leg up in weird places and lying down on the bathroom floor, just trying to find a good position to get the damn thing out. Nope. No cigar, no sir.

What to do, what to do?

The logical thing would’ve been to go to the hospital and have them fish it out for me. But it was already almost midnight by this point, I was a little tipsy, obviously had just had a bunch of sex, and for fuck’s sake I did NOT want to explain to some random person that I’d stuck a chunk of sponge up my twat, much less why.

So I started thinking – who can I call that won’t judge (or that I won’t care if judges), that has seen me naked, and that will probably come help me in the middle of the night with my issue? The obvious answer would’ve been my husband, except he’s out of town right now. Awesome for me, not so awesome for my snatch. And then the inevitable realization came to me – I could proooooobably call Mr. Simple and he’d come help me out.

And thusly was Mr. Simple over at my house at 1 am, playing gynecologist with me on the bathroom floor. Honestly I don’t know what I would’ve done without him – he actually managed to get a hold of the thing and pulled it out. I mean it took a good five minutes, but he pulled it right the fuck out. Oh man though, you’d better believe me when I say that part FUCKING HURT. There may have been tears. My poor, wounded love taco…

On the bright side, it was super bloody and gross and Mr. Simple was totally icked out by it, so he hightailed it out of there pretty quickly. Phew. No thank you blowjobs required or whatever shit. On the less bright side, now I kinda owe him one. I might just bake him some brownies or something and be like, “Here you go, thank you so much!” Code for “don’t you fucking ask me for sex, I know you helped me but I don’t want to have sex with you.”

And that was my idiotic adventure of the night. I mean if it hadn’t been for all this, I would’ve written a post on how awesome the Lawyer is, but honestly even my enormous crush on him does not trump how mortified and stupid I felt. Good game, body, good game.