Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
I've never been one to have a particular type of guy. I'm notorious for being all across the board. I have an order of 'preference' but rarely stick to it or even make it a determining factor in my dating life…so I guess I'm more of an opportunistic dater. If you're cute and the opportunity comes up for us to get together, I'm taking it.
Such was the case of Mr. Raptor. This guy hit me up online and we basically just traded emails. Since I was seeing someone at the time we never made plans to meet. He was very sweet, charming, funny and good looking. None the less, I was faithful to my man at the time and just kept it very cordial. Then, we spotted each other at a club one night and finally said hi face to face. Always the gentleman, he kept his respective distance so not to look too flirty. The bf didn't suspect anything but, there was nothing to suspect anyways.
Flash forward a year when the bf turned into the ex bf.
I ran into Mr. Raptor again at the same club. I informed him that I was free of all ties and surprisingly so was he. This guy was very handsome, had a killer smile, sweet charm, and great build. It was an obvious opportunity for me to step up and see what would happen between us so we planned on a dinner and drinks date a week later.
I showed up to his house a little bit nervous but all that washed away when he opened the door. God, he was just soo handsome! Had a great apartment and I learned he was a real estate developer, had sold his house to start his own business, and was working on a deal in Dallas and San Diego…$$$$$$!!!!!!! (I'm just saying)
We never actually made it to dinner; instead we got liquored up on his couch and engaged in some heavy back seat make out sessions.
We inevitably made our way to the bedroom and released a year of pent up emails and innuendos. Leaving out obvious details we laid next to each other, hot and sweaty. Still with his charming smile and even after sex, this guy was O SO HANDSOME! We showered together and he made us both a night cap. As I was about to get ready to go home, he grabs my hand and says I can stay the night. Turning to look at him in his bed, the blanket barley covering anything and revealing his perfect chest and abs…..who was I to say no!? This was a perfect opportunity for some all night cuddle sessions!(I am a hopeless romantic) So I climbed in bed with him, he cuddled with me till I fell asleep.
I wake up in the middle of the night to him kissing the back of my neck and obviously wanting more. So we do it again. This time, I cuddle him till he falls asleep. His chest is amazing!
And then comes the dawn, the time of day when the darkness gives way to the light and allows the flowers to bloom and the birds to sing. Outside dew drops are dripping, and the sun is warming the ground, releasing the sweet smell of morning. Inside I stir before Mr. Raptor and marvel at the fact that I'm still holding onto him. It was a perfect night and he is a perfect sleeper. I didn't hear him snore once and his body is so proportionate with mine that I didn't even break my hold on him once. I moved my hand over the V of his pelvic area, up along his abs to his chest and across to his shoulders, admiring the fine lines of his sculpted body. Feeling the way he felt at 3 in the morning, I went to kiss him good morning and noticed other fine lines on his face. His lips seemed to stretch down to his ears and, being in the vicinity of his ears, notices that the corner of his eyes seemed to be making their way down as well. HOW OLD WAS THIS GUY!?!!!! In all of our emails and in all the conversation that went on last night the subject of age never came up. He looked like he'd be in his mid 30's but his face looked much much older when he slept. Just then, as I was becoming more aware of the Jekyll and Hyde lying next to me, he began to yawn. His skinny lips opening slowing, pulling on the lines so that for one brief optical illusion it looked as if he had an elongated mouth. Sort of like a…raptor. Then I noticed his nose, kind of long and pointy like an eagle's nose and it hit me. His lips weren't the only things that were 'raptor' like. It was his whole face. The nose, the eyes, and the lips! Waking up next to this man every morning would be like waking up in Jurassic Park (enter theme song)!!!!!
Outside, the birds were chirping and the day was beginning a new. Dogs were being walked, kids rushed to school, offices stirring with phone calls and emails. Inside, I was waiting for my next opportunity. Suddenly it came; he woke fully, and got up to go to the bathroom. Now! I got up, clothed myself and sprinted for the door, just like in the movie! Feeling the burning of the dinosaurs eyes on the back of my head, I picked up the pace of my walk of shame…smiling that I had narrowly escaped being ripped apart by Mr. Raptor.
The moral of THIS story: When opportunity knocks a dinosaur may rear its ugly head.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Now as we all know there are many obstacles and grievances in the dating world: bad breath, examine-my-tonsils kissing, non-stop chattering, the Hyena laugh, obsessive cat lovers, non-cat lovers (for the cat lovers), 20 minute food orders (I want this, but not that, and I’m allergic to that, etc.), sewer pussy for guys, the Miata driver for girls, thigh pubes, in-laws, Teva-wearers of either sex (this is strictly L.A.), the “I’ll call you” guy who you never hear from, the too soon “I love you” girl, yellow teeth, fart jokesters – wow, I was only gonna name a few, so I’m pretty sure you catch my drift at this point.
The one thing that list has in common, however, is that most of the things I described can be fixed or worked on for the most part. There are, though, two dating woes that no matter how badly you want them to not be true, or how badly you pretend they aren’t that bad, they are simply fucking HORRIBLE and, without a question, deal-breakers. Drumroll please… okay, that’s good.
For the men it’s the Hotdog-Down-a-Hallway/Toothpick-in-a-Trashcan vagina, where no matter how many angles you try to take you just can’t hit a wall. And for the ladies, and what has scarred me on not one, but TWO occasions is, The Angry Inch aka Needle dick, Pencil dick, The Hitchhiker, Inch Worm, Baby Carrot, Bug-fucker, Millikan, Rooster-challenged, Baby Beef or just plain ‘ol Small Dick to name a few.
This is the story of #22 – The Angry Inch, which to date is one of my saddest victories.
After #21 broke things off with me, I was pretty bummed. #21 was someone I really liked, so I did what anyone would do, I went out and got shit-canned. Anyone who’s ever had a break-up knows that the break-up stink sends off some of the most powerful pheromones ever in the history of pheromones, so I knew I couldn’t lose. Those, of course, are my famous last words.
The Angry Inch had perfect teeth and an awesome smile. It was the only thing I could see perfectly through my Vodka goggles. And although he was shy, I could tell he was super sweet. His wingman was on point, buying shots, buying the entire bouquet of roses, from the lady who cruises the bars looking for drunks to buy her flowers, for him to give me (which they think I didn’t see), and flirtin’ up the other girls to slowly distract them away from us. My friends knew I was hurtin’ and despite my giving the signal that this wasn’t going to be the one, they promptly ditched us while I was in the bathroom. Rad. My wingbitches were fired on the spot.
His wingman left his electric bikes for the two of us to ride off into the night together, which we rode at 30mph’s - me with one eye open full blown BUIing - back to his house a block off the beach… are you sensing the pattern here with the wingman? Either he suffers from the same condition or just knows his buddy needs all the help he can get.
I’m barely through the front door when The Angry Inch mauls me like a bear. At this point, I could have been making out with a homeless man or maybe it really was a bear. I pretty much remember being mounted and dismounted, but everything in between is a toss up. However, I did wake up with that aching feeling that something was missing… you know, like a big rock solid veiny man cock.
Sidebar: This is not the first time I’ve tangoed with The Angry Inch. The first time was in college, it was #4. #4 was another drunken encounter – I’m learning a lot about myself here – and the experience was much like what I imagine rabbit sex must be like. I didn’t even feel it go in, but he started gyrating as if he were having an involuntary seizure, and then he was done before I could even get my pants off all the way. When he got up to get dressed is when I first saw it, in the moonlight, The Angry Inch, the little guy fighting so hard to be more than he’s ever capable of being. It looked like he was giving me a thumb’s up. I prayed it was the booze and that we’d never meet again, but I guess that’s why going to church is so important.
So that’s why when I woke, I knew he’d found me again. The Angry Inch used wingman’s Corvette to take me home, we exchanged numbers and I promptly went inside and scrubbed myself rape-style in the shower. At first The Angry Inch, tried to booty-call text me, to which I laughed and laughed at, the first rule in booty calling is that no one with inadequate size can participate in it. I, undoubtedly, cricketed his ass.
We ended up seeing each other out again. He turned up the charm, didn’t ride wingman’s coattails, and actually seemed like a pretty cool guy. I wasn’t ten Vodkas deep this time, so that helped, too. I agreed to go out with him and prayed to the penis Gods that this one wasn’t indeed compromised as I originally suspected. I was more nervous than with #1. I closed my eyes… pulled down the zipper… peeked… FUCK! There he was, The Angry Inch, smiling a tiny smile back at me. The experience wasn’t quite as horrible as with #4, but it wasn’t great either. I liked the guy though, so I decided to try out a smaller fit. He could eat the shit out of a pussy (often a sign of The Angry Inch host), so maybe this was doable. That was until Doggie Style was omitted from the position list because The Angry Inch had trouble reaching, and when he got squeamish about blow jobs I knew our three month tryst would soon be ending. Giving head is like breathing air for me so this was a red flag to say the least. Finally, after a date to the Zoo I knew my true calling. There must have been something in the water because every habitat we visited had a male specimen sportin’ his massive animal junk. Everywhere I turned I had balls swinging in my face. I’m drooling over Zebra cock, this is not good. I picture myself moonlighting on the weekends as one of the women in the Mexican Donkey shows, this is REALLY not good.
I politely had to end things with The Angry Inch, of course omitting the real reason. We hooked up a couple times after that, but my love of big throbbing man penis got the best of me and I had to turn him loose. I still really liked the guy, he was a keeper in nearly every sense, but bitch got needs and unfortunately they require more than good conversation and a killer smile. It was a moral dilemma that ended selfishly for me and although I still sometimes think about The Angry Inch I don’t miss his angry inch one bit.
The moral of THIS story: Test the water before you dive in, you may decide you’re not in the mood for a dip after all.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
My whole life I have had a thing for powerful men. My first crush was my gym teacher, Mr. Ozzie Wright. Men in power just always did it for me, so it was no surprise to most when I decided to date my boss.
The first time I went in was for the interview, our eyes locked and we both felt the vibe. His name was Derek Taylor. Derek had blonde hair, blue eyes and the most sexy, pouty, lips that made your mouth water. I don’t remember everything that was said in the interview, but I do remember calling a friend afterward and telling them, “If I get hired… I will be fucking my boss!” My friend didn’t think it was a good idea, but I assured her it would be fine. I figured, if we were both adults, what’s the worst that could happen?
Well, a few days went by and I received the good news that I was hired. YAY! My first day was torture. The attraction was sooo strong. I didn’t want to make the first move. So I did subtle things like brush pass him…VERY close, and then one day he asked to meet me for a drink. That first night we only got to know one another. I have to admit, I really didn’t pay much attention to what he said because I couldn’t take my eyes off those lips. We went out a few more times after that, and still nothing happened.
One day at work, Derek called me into his office and started yelling at me about not doing my job correctly. I start crying. I couldn’t believe he was yelling at me. He got up and closed the door behind us, then sat behind his desk. He began to rub on his genitals and then told me to come over. I slowly walked over to his desk and he handed me a tissue. He told me to bend over the desk and take my panties off. I wiped my tears away and did as he said. I was excited. We had sex right there on his desk. It was just like I pictured. It was everything I hoped it would be. He was so great, and I was so satisfied.
Later that night, when he and I were alone, I asked him about the yelling. He replied, “I have to be hard on you so no one will know you are my girlfriend.” Wow, we were together! I was happy but yet confused.
Derek and I were going strong through the holidays. We ended up taking the weekend off together to go meet his folks. That was great! They loved me, and I adored them. Nothing could go wrong.
Well, on the first of the year, the company sends a consultant named Maria to help the company be more productive in sales. She was kind of frumpy and had a really huge nose. Derek took a liking to her for some reason. He soon stopped hanging out with me, and eventually stopped calling me all together. I was so confused, but he refused to talk to me. I would see Maria and Derek in the hallways, laughing and flirting like I never existed. How could he! Soon enough, he began yelling at me in front of the staff and treating me like shit. I was purely humiliated. When I tried to confront him about it, he would just brush it off. Not long after, my work would come up missing. Things I knew I had worked on disappeared. My work was suffering. Derek decided that he should demote me. He took me to Human Resources, along with Maria, and told them all lies. These two had been setting me up. Human Resources took their word and I was demoted. I was ashamed and humiliated. Everyone knew by now that Derek and I were an item at one point. I was pretty much the laughing stock of the company. On that note, I quickly found a new job and left the company. Before I did, however, I sent a resignation letter to the owner on how Derek and I dated and how I was going to sue the company. I really wasn’t, but they fired Derek and that was good enough for me.
The moral of THIS story: Never shit where you eat!
Monday, November 10, 2008
So i'm partying in Barcelona and i meet these 2 irish chicks, now they're both hot but one is giving me a little more attention than the other, she's a redhead, we'll call her Freckles, the other is a Blonde. We'll call her Blondie.
Ok so Freckles is about 5'4, totally Irished out, w/ the works, freckles, firecrotch, and a quick lip, her homechick is about 5'9, NIIIIIICE titties n' an ample ass, shes also got freckles and although shes not a talker she's definately in the mix.
So anyway we're all hanging out, and the girls are buying me drinks YES THEY'RE GETTING ME DRUNK. So we proceed to the dance floor where Freckles isn't giving me any play, i vibe up to her and shes got no warmth, so BAM i turn to Blondie, and WOOAAAH hollly shit, there's the mojo! Blondie takes advantage and starts grinding away, getting DOWN so i'm like FUUUUUCK. Anyway we're all dancing and getting crazy, and i start whispering into Blondies ear "hey lets
get out of here" ... she loves it and starts grabbing my ass and kissing me, SHIIT so now i'm really getting turned on, i say "seriously c'mon lets bounce" Que the whimpery voice "I can't leave Freckles" WTF!! Freckles is handling her business and cruising around the spot having a good time, ok, well she can come too.. "It's cool, she can roll" i say "really?" She asks "you gotta boy for her?" FUCK!! where is my homie when i need him. My friend Hawk went back home to Sweden and so now i'm here without a wingman... "well there's ignacio" i say... lol Let me take a moment to give you some background on Ignacio...
Ignacio is a softspoken Chilean dude, he's like 6'2, a little pudgy, has a beard like santa clause and you wouldn't expect it but is none the less a pimp, he gets mad play and i SWEAR TO GOD is everywhere at once... without fail, no matter where you are in Barcelona, you're likely to run into Ignacio, he is ALWAYS in the mix... Ignacio runs an illegal hostel, my semi-permanent residence in Barcelona. The owners of the building have the penthouse and the 2nd floor. Whenever their regular "legal" hostel fills up, they send the overflow to Ignacio, at which point he fills the 2nd
floor with tourists and never fills the penthouse because that's where he stays, unless you're a hot chick or paying him under the table like i was... So basically i had the pad to myself, Ignacio was always out and about cruising the town, and it was a big spot, several rooms, mad beds, rooftop patio, hooked up. Anyway.. back to the story.
So these chicks are dragging me out of the spot, and we're headed to my spot (SO I THINK) anyway we get out front of my pad and i get the whole "ok, we're going home, goodnite"
WHAT THE FUCK?!?! Not the plan.. Blondie knew my intentions, seriously she was reaching down my pants on the dance floor! I mean what am i supposed to think?? Now she's playing dumb and letting her friend run the situation?? - weak "awwwe what, come up have a beer, chill out its got a dope view" "You got a guy for me?" Freckles is doubtful...
"Yeh, IGNACIO!" LOL
"He's a pimp, he's got a beard, you'll love him"
"nooo i dont think so"
WHAT THE HELL
"shit, alright well have a good nite"
And i bounce, pretending like i'm going back to my pad - instead of going home i slip thru the back alley and startle a guy and a prostitute getting it on in the alley, OH SHIT lol! I look away so they can continue with their wholesome exchange - but then I am staring straight at another couple .. LOL!! i start busting up and keep walking.. So what the fuck!! It's still early, i left the spot to kickit with the girls at the pad, not to walk them to my place and get shuffled at the door! So i head back to the club, grab a few more drinks, have some fun, and eventually call it a nite. Next day I'm back out having a good time, and i run into the Irish girls again! They're way excited to see me and immediately buy me a drink, allright whats up! So que the dance floor, me and blondie are at it again, and she's practically raping me on the dance floor, i swear not once but three times she literally pulled johhny out of my pants and i had to pull her into a corner so other dancers wouldn't see wtf!!! "c'mon this is crazy lets go chill out at my spot" ..... "ok" she says, this time totally comitted.. NICE!
Freckles is hooking up with this random Spanish guy so thats all good, she says she'll be alright but shes going to say goodbye, so i wait. Seconds later her and her friend and the random guy come over "We're all going" she says .... great i'm thinking, what the hell. So we're all cruising down Las Ramblas and we get to my spot, suddenly Freckles keeps walking "Where u going??" "Oh we're going to -OUR- hotel" she says ...(Blondie looks confused) and then she walks up to me, winks and says "don't worry i'll give you two the room, i got your back" NICE!!! "Where are you two gonna kickit?" I ask, motioning to her random companion.."Oh there's a balcony" she says whispering "Don't worry i'm not into him like that i dont need the room" ... nice shes dope, so we cruise to the spot.
We get into the hotel and they lead me up to this banquet hall (part of the hotel) with a huge balcony... Freckles says "i'm going to the common kitchen they have some free beers in there want one??" "Sure" i say and she disappears... Suddenly me and blondie are at it having some privacy finally, she pulls me out to the balcony and we're making out, she reaches down, free's Johnny & starts going down on me and i'm like hell yeah... overlooking the city, suddenly i look behind me and the beers there, OH SHIT BUT WHERE'S FRECKLES?? Blondie sees the beer and is like "oh no u think she saw us?" lol "probably i say".. so she takes me back to the room, and now Freckles wont open up!! Meanwhile you have to realize, i've been teased for 2 nites, and i'm talking, --TEASED-- this girl has gotten me crazy, i can barely think straight, and now Freckles is playing games...
She finally opens the door and is fully clothed... she giggles and closes it again and i'm like "alright they're getting it on, c'mon lets go somewhere else" and then the guy comes out, and Freckles is like "goodnite!" i'm looking at the guy and he looks at me as if to say "fuckin' tease" and i'm like shit i knew that from her... so she lets us in and then she wont leave! starts saying she is going to bed, so i take blondie out of there and into the hallway and we continue where we left off, shes driving me NUTS and then.. she says it:
"Ok thats enough"
"wha?" i mumble i'm not really listening...
"I'm a good Catholic girl" ............................................................................................................................. .......................................................................................................................................................................!!
She's totally putting on breaks now and getting herself together... u serious?????????????????hollllllllllyyyyyyyyyyyyy shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit what kind of good Catholic girl rapes a guy on the dance floor and then blows him on the patio.. but only enough to get him crazy... and then pumps the breaks, from zero to tease in 1.2 seconds... what are u trying to do to me woman?? seriously?? this is cool?
WTF!!! So she pulls me into the room cuz Freckles unlocked it again, and then freckles goes off to the common kitchen again... not one to take no for an answer i lock the door and grab Blondie and take her to the bed, we start getting crazy again and then her friend starts knocking, we don't answer.. so now its on, things getting wild... and then she jumps up and unlocks the door... mid romp.... WTF??? her friend comes in and AGAIN i gotta pull myself together, i sit up, grab a pillow for a little decency and just look at the two of them in disbelief, they're milling around the room like it's tea time... now in a perfect world this is when the 3some would begin, but no, not the story, Freckles is hellbent on cockblocking and i've had enough, so i tell them thanks for the drinks, that they're cock teases, and i bounce.
WHAT THE FUCK... anyway true story craziest cock teases ever. - The cock knocker and the cock blocker from Ireland.
The moral of THIS story: If you're sewn at the knees, don't act like you're down to please because there's nothing more dishonest than a tease!!!
Rooster, Guest Blogger
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
It may be a result of growing up in L.A., but somewhere around age six I figured out that the whole Happily-Ever-After/Ride-Off-Into-The-Sunset bit was a crapshoot. Complete and utter. It’s not just the fact that there is no royalty in L.A., or that people no longer gallop around on horses, but that after the “ride into the sunset” there are mortgages, kids, mid-life crisis’ and then the indefinite possibility of the Big D.
So I decided to take a different approach to my dating life, and ride as many men into the sunset as I possibly can before I take that quintessential Fairy Tale ride with my Prince Charming. I realize this may tarnish my Fresh-as-a-Daisy Damsel image, but let’s face it most modern day Romeo’s have had their share of more than one Juliet. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a chick, I still dream of a Happy Ending, I’m just gonna have multiple Happy Endings along the way to the ultimate one. I mean when I use to play Barbie I didn’t act out her wedding with Ken, I acted out the Honeymoon. Then I’d act it out with G.I. Joe, He-Man and sometimes even Optimus Prime, fuck it, why not?
This is the story of #24 in my campaign to “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.” Yes, I just quoted Big & Rich, and yes, I’m sorry. #24 is The Mechanic, and to date one of my all-time favorites.
I set my sights on Mechanic about a year and a half ago when some jackass backed into my ’66 Mustang. Mechanic rebuilds classic cars, so I was referred to his business. Seeing as Mechanics aren’t normally hot (unless they’re starring in Explosive Anal Penetration Part 7) I showed up fresh out of the gym and looking like complete Butt. He’s not the hottest, tallest or beefiest guy out there, but he oozed sex appeal more than the motor oil he was covered in. His blue/green eyes made me soil my underwear on the spot. He flirted, I flirted, and we… flirted. He may not have made my heart pitter-patter, but he certainly made another part of me pitter-patter.
You better believe when I came back I looked like I just walked off a modeling shoot. I thought for sure my digits would be in his phone and a date would be in the bag by the time I started up my car to leave. Nope. Nada. He sent me on my way with nothing but a smokin’ hot “I want to fuck you” smile. Okay. Roger that. No date. This was not going to be “The One,” but that didn’t mean we couldn’t have some fun. Yes, I did rhythm that.
CUT TO six months later, while borrowing my dad’s car I peel out of my garage going roughly 90 mph’s because I am once again inappropriately late for work. I rip the side mirror off. Call up Hot Mechanic. Boom. I’m standing next to him the very next day. Again, flirting, tension, lingering, and, drumroll please, a HUG but THAT’S IT! All I get. I thought I sent out the perfect mixture of I’m-into-you, but don’t-want-anything-serious vibes. From our first encounter, I had already eagle-eyed his ring finger, confirmed it was bare and had no tan line. Score. I chalked him up to being shy. I could learn to be a patient grasshopper.
Patient I was, when one year later, I’m finally back baby. I rammed my car up the asses of two others because I’m a lifelong Los Angeles commuter and had blacked out from severe road rage. This time, Mechanic wasn’t getting away. I could have given up, but what fun would that be?
He fixes my car, tells me to come pick it up at closing time. Time to close the deal is all I’m thinking about. This is a job for the black boot/mini skirt combo; I am coming from work after all. Of course, I ditch the hose and panties before I get there. I show up practically out of breath and ready to feed. He locks up the shop and then tells me he wants to show me a Camaro he’s rebuilding, which is locked up in one of the garage’s way in the back of the shop. As I’m admiring his custom paint job, slightly bent over, but not begging for it (at least not yet) he grabs me, spins me around, pulls my hair and starts wildly making out with me. Boo-ya! Finally, success. This shit is porn hot. In fact, I’ve seen a couple that start just like this. “No panties” gets ‘em every time. One condom later, (they’re not just for men’s wallets, ladies) he’s throwin’ me up against the car (relax, it’s his), then the wall, and garage. It’s dirty, nasty, sweaty and… fucking awesome! I’m in nothing but knee-high black boots, which at certain points are more like earrings. It’s 6:30pm on a Wednesday and I’m getting railed up against a beautiful car, by a beautiful man and all I can think is fuck the horse and fuck the sunset.
The Moral of THIS story: While waiting for Mr. Right, might as well fuck the shit out of Mr. Right Now. Also, patience grasshopper… patience.
Monday, November 3, 2008
On one particular Valentine's day, every single plan that I made for this special day fell through. So the night's events as they all fell over like dominos, became a joke by the end of the night. The perfect punchline to the joke is that we ended up eating at Wendy's. Honestly, it was a very charming dinner, lots of laughs. The worst Valentine' Day became the best Valentine's Day.
Once I was done with my spicy chicken sandwich and her with her grilled chicken, she leaned over to me and said "we should do this every year." So, me being a GUY and a fan of Wendy's, the following year I took her to Wendy's out of nostalgia and by her request of the year prior. So you want to know how the date went?
YOU GUESSED IT! She got PISSED and made me take her home.
I thought I was in for an easy and inexpensive date, but it turned out that it was full of tears and a near break up. I was just doing what she said! I repeat, she leaned over to me and said "we should do this every year." Two words from her that night a year earlier could have saved her from a failed holiday, the following year, and those words "JUST KIDDING."
If she would have said those words she would have earned herself a candle lit dinner and a meal that I would have no choice but to put on my credit card.
The moral of THIS story: SAY WHAT YOU MEAN
Uncle The Monster, Guest Blogger
Saturday, November 1, 2008
When you think of the perfect guy, you almost always think of someone who makes you feel special. A guy who can walk into a room full of attractive people and still hold you on a pedestal. He's tall, dark and handsome, and in my case, Mr. Chuckles or "Chuck", also had an AMAZING body of muscles. His arms were the size of my head and they were very sexily decorated with tattoos. I met this guy online, where else do people in L.A meet each other?
Our first date was at Chuck's house. We ordered pizza and watched episodes of Prison Break. The conversation was good, he was confident in his words, and as the night progressed, he pulled me to him and just held me all night. It felt like a fairy tale, I was wrapped up in the most amazing embrace. His heart beat was so soothing and his touch was like butter. We talked during the show, and learned about each other's likes and dis-likes. Basic first date conversation. It was awesome, so we scheduled another date.
Second date was out for dinner. Food was good. I had a glass of wine and he had water. When we were done, we decided again, to watch Prison Break. I looked forward to more of those muscle covered arms. This time I stayed the night. We didn't have sex, but we did sleep naked. I marveled as he undressed and slipped under the covers with me. His body was straight out of a Men's Fitness magazine and as he got in the bed, in one fool swoop, he wrapped his arm around me and in an instant I was next to his bare chest. Warm, soft, and S E X Y!!!!!! Needless to say, I M E L T E D! I slept like a baby that night, and every night I spent there since.
Our dates progressed well and after about a month we had done a lot of kissing, hugging, touching, humping and LAUGHING.
The thing about laughter. It comes in all shapes and sounds. Each one is unique, and each one is special in the ears of loved ones.
Chuck had a very unique laugh. His laugh could be compared to Cyrano De Bergerac's nose. It...stood out. It protruded from his mouth like an oversized.....thing. I didn't really discover his full laugh until we went to the movies. I mean, we had joked around before and traded a few "chuckles" but I was never REALLY funny around him. He caught my jokes, but I guess didn't find them tooooo funny. Well, needless to say, the movie really did him in. Or the previews I should say. We went to go see No Country for Old Men, so whatever previews would have been in that movie were what we saw. I think it may have been Forgetting Sarah Marshall or something. But, whatever....that's irrelevant.
Chuck had a piercing laugh. Somewhere between a hyena and nails on chalk board. The INSTANT I heard it I sank into my seat. "How could this be!? OMG NO! Now everyone is staring at us!" Every thought went through my head. All I could do was to PRAY TO THE GODS that this was the only comedy preview. "Please All Mighty Dating Gods....Dead babies, dead babies, dead babies!!!!!!!!!!!" But alas....the dating gods had a sense of humor. His laughter continued through the preview, heads turned, my hat got lower, and I drank the entire large soda to cover my face. Throughout the movie all I could only think of was how I would continue seeing the amazing guy. If I could see past his horrendous laugh and see the man that was behind it. I finally concluded that I was not so shallow. It was a laugh after all. I wasn't fucking his laugh, or kissing it, or being held by it. No, I was a much bigger person than that!
Or so I thought.
Flash forward to dinner, or to another movie night at his place, or to phone conversations! I don't know what it was, or how I never heard it before. But suddenly, hyenas were EVERYWHERE! Haunting me. I would lay in bed at night, think of him and how wonderful I felt around him, and then I'd hear AAAAAAaaaaaaaHHaaHHHhaaa! wwwwwwwaaaAWSHHHH!...and shit the bed.
After much soul searching, I realized this boys and girls:
Laughter comes in all shapes and sounds. Each one is unique, and each one is special in the ears of loved ones.
But Mr.Chuckles laugh...was NOT special to me. I found myself NOT wanting to be funny to avoid the ear ache...and nightmares. And well...I can't live like that. Being forced to be unfunny so that I wouldn't hear the inevitable laughter. Shit, I'll find someone whose laugh makes me smile instead of cringe. And so...the search continues.
The moral of THIS story: A laugh, although it may brighten your day, or make your soul shine...should sound like church bells on a breezy summer morning. Not like a fire truck at 4a.m.