Friday, April 30, 2010

For funsies!

Specific kinks seem to break down into three categories for me. There's stuff I'm not into, whether because it bothers or scares me or simply because it's not my thing--poop (I feel bad for people who are into poop, because it gets no respect, even kinky people almost take it for granted that poop is icky), most forms of fetish clothing, the whole "littles" thing, forced feminization, etc.

Then there's stuff that I'm into in an "OH FUCK YEAH" way; it hits me right in the vagina just to think about it. Rough mean nasty sex with cruel words whispered in my ear, being dragged around by the hair, being slapped in the face, being threatened and cut with knives, being handcuffed or strapped or tied down helpless, being treated like a slut and a pet and a slave... I'm kind of bad at even writing objectively about this kind of thing.

And then there's a third category. Kinks that don't make me super aroused, but they're just fun. Hypnosis falls into this category; I don't really get gooey at the idea of being hypnotized, but I think it's a really cool and interesting experience. Or elaborate rope bondage, where the focus is on artistry more than restraint. Light fireplay, or anything else with a big "spectacle" element. A lot of forms of roleplay like puppy and pony play. And really any kind of kink can become this depending on the atmosphere and the intentions.

I kind of like having fun with kink. Let's not kid ourselves, I'm in it for the "OH FUCK YEAH" aspects, but fun-only kink makes me happy in a different way. It satisfies some of my weirdo needs without requiring as much risk or seriousness as the heavy stuff. It's also a safer way to experiment, to try things out in a lighter headspace before deciding if I'd like them for "real".

And it just makes me... happy. Inexplicably happy the same way that the heavy stuff makes me inexplicably horny. Getting tied up in a light silly just-friends way still gives me a smile that lasts for a week. I can't entirely deconstruct that but it's true. I guess that's just part of what it means to be kinky.


By unpopular demand, back to the well for Roissy's Sixteen Commandments of Poon. Ugh. After this I have to write about, like, bunnies and clouds, or kissing in the rain,or that time that I was fucking this dude and he was ramming my head into the wall on every thrust but I didn't really mind because that kind of sex is worth a little plaster in your hair.

I. Never say ‘I Love You’ first
Okay, so this isn't pickup game, this is deep into the relationship. And yet you're still gaming her, somehow? You've been together for months and you're still insecure enough to be constantly pulling strings? Fuck, man, what do you even want a relationship for if you're not going to relax and enjoy it?

Women want to feel like they have to overcome obstacles to win a man’s heart. They crave the challenge of capturing the interest of a man who has other women competing for his attention, and eventually prevailing over his grudging reluctance to award his committed exclusivity.
Mmm... grudging. I always dreamed of giving my heart to a grudging man.

II. Make her jealous
Flirt with other women in front of her. Do not dissuade other women from flirting with you. Women will never admit this but jealousy excites them. The thought of you turning on another woman will arouse her sexually.

That's true for some women. It's not true for others. This is why I like the sex-positive community: in here, in this rarified little world of kinksters and poly folk and sex nerds, when you come upon a situation like that you can ask. It's not a perfect system, people still bite off more than they can chew or turn "communication" into just another arena for pissfights, but it beats the fuck out of just guessing. Guess-based sexuality annoys the shit out of me.

Also, even if I do get a little wet thinking about you with another woman, I'm still going to get pissed off if I suspect you're going to actually do it. (I mean, without asking. But this isn't the advanced class.)

III. You shall make your mission, not your woman, your priority
Despite whatever protestations to the contrary, women do not want to be “The One” or the center of a man’s existence. They in fact want to subordinate themselves to a worthy man’s life purpose, to help him achieve that purpose with their feminine support, and to follow the path he lays out.

Can I pick Option C? He follows his life purpose and I follow my own goddamn life purpose. I actually agree that it's not healthy to ignore your life goals for your partner--whether you're male or female.

As for "subordinating myself"--I can't tell when Roissy is trolling sometimes. There's a thin line between his "ha ha, I'm a totally bad boy, IN YOUR FACE political correctness because I'm EDGY" and the things he actually means. I'm sure he's proud of this fact but I think it's just a cover mechanism for not knowing the difference himself.

IV. Don’t play by her rules
If you allow a woman to make the rules she will resent you with a seething contempt even a rapist cannot inspire.

Actually, if you don't allow a woman to make some rules you might be a rapist.

The strongest woman and the most strident feminist wants to be led by, and to submit to, a more powerful man. Polarity is the core of a healthy loving relationship. She does not want the prerogative to walk all over you with her capricious demands and mercurial moods. Her emotions are a hurricane, her soul a saboteur. Think of yourself as a bulwark against her tempest. When she grasps for a pillar to steady herself against the whipping winds or yearns for an authority figure to foil her worst instincts, it is you who has to be there… strong, solid, unshakeable and immovable.
Oh. I get it. I actually feel a little sympathy for him now. He's not (just) an asshole, he's kinky! Roissy is totally a Dom! But he's one of those fetishists who doesn't understand that their fetish isn't universal. He's the equivalent of the foot fetishist who thinks that every woman in sandals is doing it on purpose to tease him.

Or he might just be an asshole. I don't want to hastily rule anything out.

V. Adhere to the golden ratio
Give your woman 2/3 of everything she gives you. For every three calls or texts, give her two back. Three declarations of love earn two in return. Three gifts; two nights out. Give her two displays of affection and stop until she has answered with three more. When she speaks, you reply with fewer words. When she emotes, you emote less.

Not only is this supremely assholish, not only is it one of those "why are you in a relationship again?" moments, it just seems hard to keep track of. I'd accidentally emote a full 4/3rds sometimes and it would take weeks of stoneface to get back on track.

VI. Keep her guessing
True to their inscrutable natures, women ask questions they don’t really want direct answers to. Woe be the man who plays it straight — his fate is the suffering of the beta. Evade, tease, obfuscate.

Some of this seems like it was written in an alternate universe where women never just break up with their boyfriends. This kind of thing doesn't say "maybe I'm a man of mystery, you'll never know" to me, it says "I'm totally cheating." I mean, I don't know that he's cheating, he could be addicted to drugs or gambling or just pathologically secretive, but my point is, none of the options are glamorous.

And how dumb would you feel if you got dumped for cheating and you weren't even cheating?

VII. Always keep two in the kitty
Oh, so you are cheating. Never mind.

VIII. Say you’re sorry only when absolutely necessary
Apologizing increases the demand for more apologies. She will come to expect your contrition, like a cat expects its meal at a set time each day.

Yeah, because arguments and unhappiness are delicious like cat food. Jesus Christ, if you really think a woman is just a couple "I'm sorry"s away from becoming a mewling emotional vampire, you should probably invest in a Fleshlight and a single bed.

IX. Connect with her emotions
Describe in lush detail scenarios to set her heart afire. Give your feelings freedom to roam. ROAM. Yes, that is a good word. You’re not on a linear path with her. You are ROAMING all over, taking her on an adventure. In this world, there is no need to finish thoughts or draw conclusions. There is only need to EXPERIENCE. You’re grabbing her hand and running with her down an infinite, labyrinthine alleyway with no end, laughing and letting your fingers glide on the cobblestone walls along the way.

Wow, all that douchebaggery and suddenly we're in a romance novel. Actually kind of a good one. I never knew ol' Roissy had it in him. I think there's still some douchey "women are irrational and mysterious" subtext here, but it's so pretty that I irrationally like it.

X. Ignore her beauty
The man who trains his mind to subdue the reward centers of his brain when reflecting upon a beautiful female face will magically transform his interactions with women. His apprehension and self-consciousness will melt away, paving the path for more honest and self-possessed interactions with the objects of his desire.[...] It will help you acquire the right frame of mind to stop using the words hot, cute, gorgeous, or beautiful to describe girls who turn you on. Instead, say to yourself “she’s interesting” or “she might be worth getting to know”.

Oh my God, what's wrong with me, I'm kind of agreeing with Roissy. Not the part where you never compliment her looks, but he's got a point here. Except that I want to know how you train yourself to ignore beauty, but then exclusively pursue 22YOBS anyway.

XI. Be irrationally self-confident
No matter what your station in life, stride through the world without apology or excuse. It does not matter if objectively you are not the best man a woman can get; what matters is that you think and act like you are.

God dammit asshole, stop having good points.

XII. Maximize your strengths, minimize your weaknesses
In the betterment of ourselves as men we attract women into our orbit. To accomplish this gravitational pull as painlessly and efficiently as possible, you must identify your natural talents and shortcomings and parcel your efforts accordingly. If you are a gifted jokester, don’t waste time and energy trying to raise your status in philosophical debate. If you write well but dance poorly, don’t kill yourself trying to expand your manly influence on the dancefloor.

And again. Why did he spend the first half of this page telling people how to be emotionally abusive assholes, and then use some actual insight on the second? It's jarring.

XIII. Err on the side of too much boldness, rather than too little
Touching a woman inappropriately on the first date will get you further with her than not touching her at all. Don’t let a woman’s faux indignation at your boldness sway you; they secretly love it when a man aggressively pursues what he wants and makes his sexual intentions known.

Oh good, there's the emotionally abusive asshole we know and do not love. And he's advocating rape! Or at least groping. I've never played the "faux indignation" game myself, but I have played the "real indignation and never seeing him again" game, and I'm capable of playing the "911, I'm going to need the police... and an ambulance" game if it comes to that, buddy.

(At least I hope I am. Shit, this is sending me into an uncomfortable tangent of wondering whether I could physically defend myself from a date who went too far. I've never been threatened with anything really bad, but fuck, I can't even talk mean to most guys who push my boundaries. I could do it if he was hostile, if he was all "I'm going to hurt you bitch" I could bust out the Krav Maga and/or concealed weaponry, but if took the "I thought you liked it" tactic--and they very often do--I have the hideous suspicion that I'd end up apologizing to him. Still wouldn't see him again, though.)

XIV. Fuck her good
Fuck her like it’s your last fuck. And hers. Fuck her so good, so hard, so wantonly, so profligately that she is left a quivering, sparking mass of shaking flesh and sex fluids. Drain her of everything, then drain her some more. Kiss her all over, make love to her all night, and hold her close in the morning.

Oh Roissy you incurable romantic. This sounds pretty good... assuming it's not being done over her "faux indignation."

XV. Maintain your state control
You are an oak tree. You will not be manipulated by crying, yelling, lying, head games, sexual withdrawal, jealousy ploys, pity plays, shit tests, hot/cold/hot/cold, disappearing acts, or guilt trips.

Jesus, if she's throwing all that at you, maybe it's time to go be an oak tree somewhere else.

XVI. Never be afraid to lose her
Solid advice. After you've cheated on her, been emotionally withholding, ignored her desires, completely bafffled her with erratic behavior and impenetrable arrogance, continuously treated her like she's a crazy manipulative bitch, and possibly physically violated her a little, you'd better be ready to lose her.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

The other Roissy test.

Something I should clarify in general: I don't think that everything PUAs say is automatically wrong. It's absolutely true that self-confidence and polished social skills can impress chicks, in a totally ethical and effective way. But there is a whole lotta bullshit besides self-confidence and social skills out there under the label PUA. Silly acronyms and number games and "status" hijinks and game-playing and refusal to take a "no" and tremendous misogyny are a part of it too, and the good advice mixed in doesn't make that shit okay.

Anyway. Since we're all looking at our Roissy scores as if that were a real thing (it's not), I have to try an experiment that I haven't seen before. Remembering that my score was -5, "lesser beta" on the lady test, I'm taking the dude test.

1. How old are you?
under 25 years old: 0 points

So I'm a little too young for a 16-year-old, really.

2. How tall are you?
under 5’9″: -1 point

Okay, this one's unfair. I'm pretty damn short for a girl, though, so even proportionally I'd still lose.

3. What is your BMI?
over 27.0: -1 point

Gosh, it was ten points when I was a girl. This is a smaller ding than wearing flip-flops!

4. How much do you bench press?
60% or less of your body weight: -1 point

I carry a bench and barbell around with me to test guys before I'd consider fucking them. Sure it's cumbersome, but it's the only way to be sure you're getting top quality merchandise.

5. What does your hairline look like?
Full head of hair if you are under 35: 0 points

The scoring on this one is complex. Being balding is bad if you're under 35 but okay if you're over and okay if you're black and if you're over 35 with hair that's the only way to get the bonus point.

6. How much money do you make?
under $40K and you are out of college: -1 point

This might be just as unfair as the height question, since if you multiply my salary by a 1.4 maleness conversion factor it's over $40K. But that's a whole nother argument. Also, note that despite the whole "women are all about status" thing, this is pretty lightly weighted. You can make up for being stone broke at 50 just by having hair.

7. Do you have a car?
Yes (over 21yo): 0 points

My 1999 Chevy Lumina brings all the girls to the yard. Damn right, it's got more mechanical problems than yours.

8. Are you good-looking?
5 – 7: 0 points

This one, which was worth a full page of extensive dissection in the female version, is skimmed over with an almost embarrassed hastiness, because caring what a guy looks like is pretty gay. Also note that being average is neutral here, while a girl has to be well above average to avoid losing points. (All of our students are above average!)

9. Have you ever played a leading role in a team sport?
No: 0 points

Unless you're in the NFL or NBA, I don't think this matters after college. (Hell, I don't know how I'd even know if a guy was captain of his high school soccer team or whatever, that's a lot more "trivia" than "selling point.")

10. What is your occupation?
Neutral status (engineer, programmer, accountant, salesman, mid level manager, scientist, military officer, well-paid tradesman, etc.): 0 points

Programmer is "neutral status"?

11. How many friends do you have?
4 to 20: 0 points

Like on Facebook, or like people who I could call them up this minute and cry on their shoulder for hours? Anyway, I actually kind of agree with this one, guys with no friends at all are definitely not super prospects. Even if they do have hair.

12. How many friends have you met through the internet that you have never seen in person?
over 2: -1 point

Dammit, Facebook. I'm going to be like a "lesser omega who smells funny" now.

13. When was the last time you went to a house party?
Within the past month: +1 point

I wonder if I'd lose the point if Roissy knew that we were talking about RPGs and Internet drama the whole time.

14. Have people besides your family called you funny?
Nearly everyone who knows me: +1 point

Which is impressive, because girls aren't funny, they have boobs for that.

15. What is your IQ?
over 145: -1 point

Wow, I wasn't expecting this one. I don't think I've ever rejected a guy for being too smart. (Smart and socially inept, sure, but there are smart and sociable guys out there, it's not an inevitable linkage.) But then again, look at me talking, I'm a lesser beta, what do I know.

16. At a party, which happens first – you approach someone or someone approaches you?
I occasionally approach first: 0 points

Actually I kinda just walk around and talk to people or people talk to me, I don't really calculate it in my head as an elaborate dance of approaches and reactions. I go to parties to have fun, dude.

17. Have you ever been in a serious fight where real punches were thrown and you felt like you wanted to kill your opponent(s)?
No: 0 points

This makes me less sexy, because girls really love the homicidal type.

18. Have you ever been arrested?
Yes: +1 point

I got arrested once when I was eight for riding my bike after curfew without a light, and I was so scared I barfed on the cop. Apparently this makes me a dangerously desirable bad boy. (I might just have been detained, I'm not sure if that was an "arrest" legally, but it's a hilarious story anyway.)

Note that being arrested for child porn is a smaller ding than flip-flops.

19. You are on a second date with a girl. You go to kiss her. She turns her cheek to you and says “Slow down, I’m not that kind of girl.” You reply:
(A) ”Sorry.” -1 point

Respecting boundaries is so not hot. The right answer is "This could be trouble ’cause I’m that kind of guy. *smirk*" Because implicit rape threats (I get the feeling that this line is meant to be delivered while cornering her alone and not quite forcing a kiss but not backing off) are so hot.

20. You’re chatting up a pretty girl you just met in a bar. After a few minutes she asks you to buy her a drink. You reply:
(B) “I’m not an ATM.” 0 points

Not in so many words, because that's toolish and as a girl I would take it as a straight-up rejection, but I have to admit that it would be weird for someone to ask me to buy them a drink. I certainly never ask guys that. (Partly because accepting a drink seems to imply consent for absolutely anything they want to do to me for the entire rest of the night. Man that's five bucks well spent.)

21. You’ve just met a cute girl in a club and have been talking with her for five minutes when she abruptly changes the topic to a raunchy conversation about her multiorgasmic ability. You respond with:
(A) a huge grin and an eager “Damn! That is HOT!” -1 point

Because fuck yeah. Also, seriously dude, if I'm talking like that, unless I'm a major-league advanced-level game player (I'm totally not), it means I want to fuck you. If we've known each other five minutes and I'm talking about my orgasms, there's no pickup to be done; the Game is over and you won. (We both won! After all, if things go well I'm going to have those orgasms, and duuuude.)

The correct answer is of course "a raised eyebrow while saying 'Hey, thanks for the medical report.'" Which I would take as a crushing rejection and slink away in embarrassment.

22. The pickup has been going well. Later in the night she leans in and begins making out with you passionately. You feel like a king and your jeans suddenly feel much tighter. Do you:
(B) continue making out with her for as long as she wishes. 0 points

This is of course a loser move. The winner move is "kiss for a little bit then push her gently away and look distracted for a second." Apparently Roissy's whole philosophy of pickup is acting like you don't want the girl at all and rejecting her at every step. (Except if she says no to you, then it's Rapeasaurus Rex time.)

"He didn't buy me a drink, didn't want to talk sexy, and wasn't into making out--I've never been more aroused in my life!"

Hmm. I wonder if this ties into the idea that women (or 22YOBS, at least) are constantly fending off a huge surplus of sexual attraction. I guess if everyone a woman encounters drools over her, being a little less accessible would make you stand out, but very very very few women have that experience. To any woman who's accustomed to rejection (i.e., 99% of them including most 22YOBS), this would feel exactly like rejection.

23. You go to a bar. Twenty feet away are a pretty girl, a fat girl, and an average guy talking amongst themselves. The pretty girl briefly eye flirts with you. In reponse, you:
(B) immediately approach in a direct fashion maintaining strong eye contact with your target. 0 points

Well, that makes it sound like I'm charging like a goddamn bull. I would actually just go up and say hi.

The correct answer is "immediately approach but from an indirect angle, looking around the room distractedly on the way over to your target as if you might see an even prettier girl somewhere else, and finally delivering your opener from over your shoulder." Because nothing screams sexual confidence like elaborate choreography.

24. Who do you address first?
(C) everyone. +1 point

Whee, I win. And of course "fat" is the opposite of "pretty," that goes without saying.

25. After getting the whole group engaged in conversation and having a good time, your target blurts out “Hey nice pink shirt! Are you gay?” You:
(A) say “No, I’m not gay!” -1 point

Although my intonation would be a bit more "nope, not gay." Because it's not some deathly insult I must defend myself from.

The correct answer is “OK, who brought their little sister to the bar!”, which is actually a little tempting considering the homophobia implicit in her remark, but at this point, she would stop being my "target," because I don't fuck people who think that "LOL PINK LOL GAY" is good flirting.

26. In the middle of the conversation you have to pee. You say:
(B) “Excuse me.” 0 points

Winners just fucking walk away mid-sentence. Roissy's flirting is really, really, really indistinguishable from rejection. Cruel rejection at that.

27. You’ve managed to get her outside your front door. There is obvious sexual tension. You want to close this deal. You say:
(B) “Why don’t you come inside?” 0 points

The correct answer: “I’m thirsty. Are you thirsty? Let’s go inside and taste DC’s finest tap water. But you can only stay for a minute, I have to get up early.”

Wow, seriously? Wow. Roissy's just fucking with us at this point.

And my score is... -5! Holy shit! It's the same! This must be totally scientifically accurate!
Lesser beta. You don’t immediately disgust girls; they just don’t notice you. With much painful effort you can redeem yourself.

So apparently as a Beta-Minus female I could fuck Beta-Minus males, but as a Beta-Minus male I can't fuck anyone without painful effort? This is where my whole "math" argument comes in.

God, I'm stuck on Roissy like a train wreck. I so want to look away... but I don't.


A little weird: finding out that someone you know used to write erotic X-Files fanfiction in high school.

Making it much weirder: admitting to them that you used to read erotic X-Files fanfiction in high school.

Because then there's the awkward pause where you figure it probably wasn't the same stories, and really there's nothing that weird about it if they were, but... but yeah.

Cruel to be kind.

I have to get better at saying "no." I spent so much of my life being awkward that I'm still not used to men hitting on me. I never developed a script for politely rejecting someone.

And I think that in trying to be nice, in trying to avoid the arrogance of saying "stop hitting on me" to a guy who might just be chatting or the meanness of saying "leave me alone" to a guy who's been friendly to me, I end up being much crueler. I go from being a rejecting bitch to being a stringing-along bitch.

This is only an issue, of course, with guys who won't shit or get off the pot. If someone actually asks me if I want to fuck/play, I can say "no." But it's hard to find the right point in a theoretically innocent conversation to say "hey, I just figured out that you're flirting with me, and you need to stop now."

I really hate not fucking people. It's lose-lose. It's awkward, the guy's unhappy, I feel bad that he's unhappy, I feel scared that he'll be angry, and my vagina goes home sad and empty. But I find that fucking people I'm not attracted to is physically and emotionally intolerable, so I'm kinda stuck.

Maybe the worst part is wondering if the guy thinks I'm enjoying the whole deal. A lot of guys seem to think that stringing a guy along is like multiple chocolate-coated orgasms for a girl, that we really dig on the power trip and we giddily high-five each other for it. God no. It might be true that I have "power" over a guy who wants to fuck me, but I didn't ask for it, I won't exploit it, and it feels about as pleasant as those dreams where you didn't study for the test.

I just have to get quicker and harsher about saying "I'm not interested." That sucks balls too, but at least it ends the torment for both of us.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

The 22YOBS.

The phrase "22-year-old blonde skinny chick," or variants thereof, has been getting tossed around a lot recently. It's a lazy shorthand for "conventionally sexy," with some unfortunate negative undertones--men and women will imply that only shallow men would want the 22YOBS, and women can be shockingly upfront about resenting the 22YOBS. Often there's an implication that she's doing it on purpose, she's selling out. That 22YOBS, her life must be so easy, but it's coming at the expense of real women.

All this is a little unfair to women who are young, blonde, and skinny, and actually look quite different from each other and have their own lives that may or may not involve being full-time sex symbols. Some of them you wouldn't even call conventionally sexy; some are conventionally sexy but aren't sexually active or have a relatively "boring" sex life; some even feel sexually deprived. And the ones who do get sex more easily than most, don't necessarily get other privileges along with it.

I can't be so easy on the guys who want a 22YOBS. Some of them, it's totally legitimate, it's just what they like. (Particularly if they're also 22.) Maybe they have or had a 22YOBS girlfriend and she was great; maybe there's a particular 22YOBS they know well; maybe they have just absorbed some social messages about the universal desirability of the 22YOBS. If you're not weird about it, hey, have fun with it, guys.

But other guys make it weird. Other guys talk about wanting a 22YOBS, but they're not really attracted to her. They're attracted to what she represents--the highest status, the best prize. She's the gold medal, and it doesn't matter if you personally think silver is prettier, it still doesn't mean winning. When the question is not "who do you want to wake up next to?" but "who do you want to show off to the other guys?", the answer is the 22YOBS.

And other guys, I think, want a 22YOBS because they don't know what they want. She's the "I'll have what he's having" of sexual preferences; the default if you've watched a lot of TV and haven't met a lot of women. There's nothing particularly attractive about a 22YOBS except for the way the camera always seems to linger over her and she's a lot more likely to take off her clothes. I think the more you get out in the world and the more women you get to know in person, the less you're drawn to any specific physical type because you see people much more as individuals and personalities.

I don't really have a conclusion for this post. I can't say "hey guys, stop liking 22YOBS!", because sometimes it really is a legitimate attraction. I can't say "real women have curves, real women aren't Barbie dolls!" because the 22YOBS is just as much a woman and a person. I guess all I can say is that 22YOBS isn't a synonym for "beautiful." It's just a body type.

(By the way, while I don't think this can all be reversed to apply to men, I am fascinated how often "Brad Pitt" is used as the shorthand for a male 22YOBS. He's like the official male celebrity for this kind of discussion. No one ever says "I'm no Ewan McGregor but..." Even though Ewan McGregor is damn fine.)

Monday, April 26, 2010

Some points on social skills.

On the last post, someone asked me to write a guide to social skills. I don't think I can do a full guide, because I'm still in the learning process myself, there's still things I don't understand, but I'll do some bullet points. Succeed Socially is also a good resource for socially awkward people.

Helpful Metaphor 1: Drawing.
I can't draw very well. And I used to think that people who were good at drawing simply had an ability I didn't. They think of what they want, put pencil to paper, and they somehow know what to do. I figured it was just a natural talent and that I could never learn to draw.

Then I worked with CC, who was an artist. He told me about art school; about drawing thousands of straight lines and perfect circles and shading exercises, about learning anatomy and perspective, about studying composition starting with the simplest shapes. Drawing for him was not talent but technique, something he had to learn and work at intellectually. It was no use for me to say "I just can't draw, it's not my thing," because I know that I could learn to draw if I put in the years of effort that CC did.

Likewise with social skills. They're not "you have it or you don't," they're something you consciously learn and practice. Socializing isn't an instinct; it's a skill, and how you socialize is not "just who you are" but what actions you choose to take.

Helpful Metaphor 2: Directions.
When I first moved to this town, I was lost all the time. I was used to the grid system in Seattle, and this place is all goddamn cowpaths from 1729 that wind around in strange directions and change names every few blocks. When I was trying to find the supermarket, I had to Google it and write down every turn: "Left at Elm, right at Main."

After a few trips with my written notes I had the directions memorized, and I started using landmarks instead of street names. "Left at two blue houses, right at the cemetery." And after a whole lot of trips that stopped being conscious, and I simply drove to the supermarket, going left and right just because that's the way to the supermarket.

Likewise with social skills. They feel hopelessly forced and artificial at first, and you have thoughts analogous to "shit, am I going to have to write down all the lefts and rights any time I go anywhere?" But after enough practice you'll learn them so throughly that they come to feel like instinct. What feels like tremendous effort initially will, in months or years, become just how you act.

Okay, now some specific skills.

*When in doubt, be nice.
This is the number one rule that's helped me develop social skills. People will put up with a lot more awkwardness if you say kind and generous things. Don't suck up, but be positive, especially when you don't know people well or you're not sure how to respond to something. Even stock-phrase politeness--"nice to meet you," "that's very interesting," "have a nice day,"--while sometimes awkward in its own right, beats the hell out of silence or negativity.

Being sardonic and cynical is fun, it's funny, and sometimes people will be entertained by it, but it's risky to do when you're on shaky social ground. You might insult something the other person likes, or you might come off as someone who just hates everything. (Something I worry about doing on this blog, actually; I'm not nearly so hypercritical in real life.) I wouldn't say "don't ever be negative," but I would say "when in doubt, don't be negative."

In particular, resist the urge to debate. Most people don't like being disagreed with, especially if you give the impression of finding fault with every statement. If something's important to you, of course speak up, but don't debate minor points just to prove how smart you are--"winning" wins you nothing.

*Be polite.
Don't forget your "hello," "goodbye," "please," and "thank you." Offer to help the host clean up after parties, offer to get people a snack or a drink when you get up for one, and if people are moving furniture or setting/clearing dishes offer to help with that. If people are visiting you, guests' preference for entertainment count above your own. Being polite and helpful gets you a lot of points even if you're awkward, and sitting there looking like you're being served by someone who's supposed to be your friend can come off jerkish.

*Observe and copy.
If you're not sure what's appropriate to do in a situation, look at what everyone else is doing. If everyone else came in and sat down on a chair or couch, plop your butt down; if everyone else is standing around with a drink in their hand, get to the punch bowl and find a little conversational circle to join. Listen to the direction the conversation takes and follow it there--if they're making jokes, if they're telling stories, if they're debating a subject, chime in with your own contributions in kind. Listen to how other people are talking to tell if it's appropriate to use swear words or share personal things (when in doubt, don't) and which topics are interesting to them.

*Observe and react.
When others are talking, listen. I used to have tremendous difficulty knowing when it was my turn to speak, but I found that following along closely with the speaker, rather than waiting for my turn, helped fix that. It also helped my responses be true responses to what they were saying, rather than "now let's talk about me." Make it a goal to be able to paraphrase whatever someone just said to you.

When you're talking, watch. People's faces and body language will tell you whether they're interested or disinterested, pleased or put off. Whether or not you're able to salvage the current interaction, the information will help you improve in the future. And if things really go south, just stop talking. This is another situation that's awkward, but not as awkward as the alternative of turning it into a monologue.

*Try to be average.
Average doesn't mean boring or generic. It means in the middle--not the center of attention, not hiding in the corner, but mixing through the area (physical and conversational) where most people are. Don't talk constantly and don't be silent; talk sometimes. Don't demand attention; don't exaggerate accomplishments or experiences or put on strange affectations to be different. By all means, show off your unique personality and interests, but don't try to be super-cool, just try to be normal and unique.

That's not an oxymoron; socially normal people are still all different. Every "airhead blonde" and "frat boy" (two groups that aren't that dominant in the mainstream anyway) has their own personality and history and interests. Seeing the mainstream as stupid or bland "sheeple" is a grave mistake and you cannot be really socially skilled if you look down on normal people.

*Don't obsess.
Not on people, and not on one topic. Fandom babble is uninteresting to someone outside that fandom, but more importantly, any specific topic can tire people out if you go on too long. Talk about your interests, by all means, but if people seem bored or the conversation moves on, talk about something else. Likewise, don't take a joke too far; if a Monty Python quote cracks people up, don't go on to re-enact the whole scene. (Also, keep this in mind.)

*Don't apologize or excuse your awkwardness.
When you say "I'm sorry I'm awkward," or "ha ha! I'm so awkward!" it draws attention to the awkwardness and it doesn't help. Better to act like you're doing fine and need no excuse.

*Clean up!
Nothing puts people off like being grossed out. There's no need to change your body or style, but you do have to present it well. Shower and brush your teeth every day and if you get sweaty take another shower before social events. Your clothes don't need to be "fashionable," but they should be clean, in good condition, and fit well. (This isn't a firm rule, but a button-down shirt or nice top can make a better impression than a geeky logo or slogan tee.) If you have facial hair, trim it neatly. Pay attention to your smell--BO and Dragon Breath are very serious social handicaps.

This is one area where it's important not to be a perfectionist. Don't think "I'm fat, so it doesn't matter if I dress well" or "I'm really ugly, who'll even notice whether my beard is shaggy." People know what you can and can't help, and putting in effort where you can counts for a lot.

*There are no exceptions to social skills.
Don't "let your guard down" and revert to weirdo mode when you're with family or close friends, and don't think there's an entirely separate set of skills for dealing with people at work or people of the opposite sex. It's all one thing. People who are close to you may tolerate and understand your weirdness, but they still appreciate it when you remember to say "thank you" or you stop talking when they get bored. And there's no special tricks for special situations; the very same behaviors that make dudes at a bowling alley want to talk to you will please your boss and interest the ladies. (Well, not the very same behaviors, burp-wise and all. But the same underlying concepts.)

*Put up with a little, but don't put up with a lot.
If there are a couple people in a large group that you don't like, or the conversation turns briefly to something that bores you, say nothing and deal. If someone says one mean thing to you, calmly tell them that it was rude and move on. But if you just don't like a group of people at all, or if someone's repeatedly mean to you, leave. Don't make a scene, don't try to change them or call them out, just walk away. No one, no matter how skilled, gets along with everyone.

*Invite people to be your friend.
If you'd like to spend more time with a particular person, the best thing to do is just ask. Most people will say yes if they can, especially if you suggest a specific (inexpensive and time-flexible--maybe getting coffee or going for a walk) activity. Or if you hear that a bunch of people are going to do an activity together, don't be afraid to ask if you can join in.

*Fake it 'til you make it, baby.
If you play the role of a socially comfortable and likeable person long enough, it'll grow into you. It might feel entirely like a role at first, but just keep plugging. If you want to be liked, it's worth it.

Wow. That got long. I hope it's not too preachy or condescending, and I'm sure there are big things that I missed. But these are some useful things that I've learned.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Socially Awkward.

I used to be a very, very socially awkward child. Not "I couldn't ask out my crush" socially awkward--this was the real thing. I would, literally, crawl around on all fours pretending to be a cat, or roll around on the floor of the classroom making my markers walk like people on the carpet. In middle school. And I wasn't just eccentric but absolutely terrible at making friends--I've gone several years of my life with literally zero friends. In 7th and 9th grades, and my freshman and sophomore year of college, I didn't know anyone well enough to go over to their house or have them at mine even once.

Let me put this in some perspective, something that will partially explain it: I skipped 3 grades. 4th, 8th, and 11th. I was 15 when I graduated high school, 19 when I graduated college. Yeah, yeah, supergenius, got in the paper, awesome, except for this: if you were in college, and there was a 15-year-old in your dorm (a really weird one who would do things like stick needles through her hands and walk around going "hey look!" to people) which parties would you invite her to?

I don't want to blame it all on circumstances, though; I was a social moron. I was never socially phobic or antisocial--I always wanted to be liked--but until about age 20 I had absolutely no idea how. I was simultaneously so loud and inappropriate that people cringed, and so meek and shy that I could never ask someone to do anything social with me.

I also realize, although I was largely oblivious at the time, that my appearance reflected my general eccentricity. I wore nothing but relaxed-fit jeans and solid-colored baggy t-shirts until I was maybe 19. I had some sort of incomprehensible moral objection to using any products on my hair or any makeup on my face until about the same time, and my standing order at Supercuts was "as short as you can make it and I still look like a girl."

The worst part, though, was I simply didn't know how to hold a conversation. For many years something as simple as phoning the registrar's office to ask a question was a daunting task. And talking socially? Ugh. My two modes were "total silence" and "HI I LIKE CATS DO YOU LIKE CATS I LIKE CATS AND ALSO WOLVES I SHOULD BE A CAT WOLF MEOW AHWOOO HA HA."

But here's the interesting part of this sob story: I got better.

It's still an ongoing process, but around age 20 I started being able to talk to people. I started dressing and wearing my hair normally, and I started attending social events. I started dating guys who weren't weirdos. I started having a lot more friends. Maybe most significantly, I started being able to understand how people reacted to a behavior, and became able to predict in advance whether something would go over well. My struggles went from "why don't they like me yelling POOP when other people are talking, poop is funny" to "should we hug or just shake hands?" I wasn't unable to learn social cues after all; I was just very, very slow.

I still embarrass myself more than I think normal people do. I'm still learning to find the line between being meek and being self-centered, and I know I cross it all the time. I can't always tell when I'm taking a joke too far or when I'm not taking a friendly or sexy advance far enough. The worst part, right now, is the paranoia: did I just do something terrible and they're just humoring me to be polite? Will I only know I was wrong when I don't get invited back ever again? Will I never know but secretly they all think I'm a floor-crawling Special Child?

(I was crawling on the floor last night, too, but I don't usually, it was kind of a silly semi-kinky thing--I was only following orders!--and other people were playing along, so I think it was okay. I'm honestly uncertain though.)

But even that is fading, it's more of a joke by now. I'm getting, at age 24, to be a regular sort of person. I look regular, I talk regular, I can eat lunch with you or come to your party and not be That Girl. I can go on first dates and job interviews and by the end of them the person will actually like me. I think I'm emotionally ready for high school now.

How this impacted my sex life is probably another entire post (or this entire blog, really), but clearly there was a big-time impact. From fucking only the weirdest freaks during my freak years, to developing bizarre fantasies through my eccentricity, to the sudden and sometimes overwhelming explosion of possibilities as I become socially competent, the story of my social awkwardness is all tangled up in my sex life.

I don't want to get all bootstrappy, to be "I did it so can anyone!" about my recovery from weirdness, because a lot of people in my situation have real disorders and bigger challenges, so I'll just say that I'm so fucking glad that I was able to do it.

How the pros do it.

I have since learned that the proper way to fuck in WoW is for the man to /lie down and for the woman to stand over his general crotch area and /sit and get up again repeatedly.

This looks about as natural and erotic as you'd expect.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Human and Animal.

I've always liked animals. I've had pets when I could, bonded with other people's pets when I couldn't, always liked looking at animals and studying them. Animals are wonderful, I think, because they don't understand. You could be a failure at life and a dog would lick your hand. You could be a disappointment to your whole family and a cat would purr if you scratched the right spot.

Animals don't have a big picture. Their world is physical and immediate. My old guinea pig was mortally ill and she still squeaked for joy when I gave her a piece of lettuce, because lettuce is delicious. There is no language, no abstraction, no consideration; life is urge and sensation.

Sometimes I walk down the street and I try to see the ape in people. I look at someone's face and I try to see it not as a personality but as the head of an animal. It's hard with strangers; it's impossible with people I know. And it's worse than impossible with myself. It's terrifying.

I dissected a cadaver once, and I've seen people's insides a couple other times, occupationally. And you know, I honestly don't believe that I have guts. Intellectually of course, but emotionally I can't look at my stomach and imagine a twist of pink-beige intestines curled up in there. It's just... stomach! It's belly button and softness and gurgles, it's aches and hunger and satisfaction, it's not just a thing that anyone with a knife could just take apart. Or, God forbid, a thing that time and fate will take apart.

Sex is when I get closest to resolving this. Because sex is urge and sensation so strong that everything else goes away, during sex--good sex at least, and rough sex much more--I can be animal. There's no words or thoughts for what I feel. The parts of my body aren't abstraction, they're penetrated and used, I'm touched on those insides I forget I have. And if I bleed, if I bruise, if I swell up in welts and spend the next few days watching my skin heal, I can believe that I have guts after all.

I am my body--the thought is a source of Cartesian denial and existential despair during lucid moments. Which is why it's good, sometimes, to have moments that are not lucid at all. When I'm being fucked hard, I am my body is only self-evident.

"What do you want?"
"Oh, I want to be known, I want to be loved, I want to be listened to, I want to learn, I want to make art, I want to go to nursing school and become a nurse practitioner, I want to buy a house, I want to have one or two kids and really treat them right, I want to get published, I want to see the world, I want to live and be healthy far into my old age, and in the end I really don't want to die."

"What do you want?"
"I want it harder, baby!"

Friday, April 23, 2010

On The Availability of Pussy In Contemporary American Society.

"Generally, ordinary guys can go years between relationships with ordinary women, because they are constantly meeting (in everyday life) very few women, very few of whom ever find them (the guys) attractive. [..] Holly's Magical Vagina Power blinds her to the experience of a totally average guy who's just middling employed, middling-looking, and middling charming. Bruno's and Bookworm's (and my) experience of how (almost) no women see them and how few connect with them is a real truth about the experience of ordinary men that you constantly elide with the "PUA bad, grr" act."

The sex ratio at birth in the USA is about 105 boys to 100 girls. Boys are slightly more prone to die young, however, so for the age range 15-30 the ratio is 1:1 and at older ages there are more women. As an average for the population as a whole, there are 95 males to 100 females. (CIA World Factbook)

Statistics on homosexuality vary widely (and often follow the "one drop rule" that if someone reports any history of same-sex sex or attraction they're counted as gay), but generally seem to agree that there are more exclusively homosexual men than women. The Janus Report on Sexual Behavior, for example, reports 9% of men and 5% of women are homosexual.

I couldn't find any documentation on the prevalence of polyamory that wasn't written by a crazy person, but I believe that it's not really super common. I mean, it's like 20% of everyone I know, but I live in weird circles, I'm guessing it can't be more than 2% of the population, and even fewer are in polygynous arrangements where multiple women are exclusive to one man.

In "Patterns of Asexuality in the United States," presented at an American Sociological Association conference, the authors conclude that 0.7% of men and 0.8% of women report being asexual. They also mention that 12% of men and 11% of women report no sexual contact in the last 12 months.

So let's crunch those numbers (well, assumptions) for young adults in the US, and we get... 100 available straight women for every 97.9 available straight men. Of course that's extremely rough and there's other reasons a person could be off the market, but on the whole these data support the frankly obvious conclusion that for every wanting cock there's a willing pussy. In fact there's slightly more than one.

I want to stop hearing all this fucking bullshit about how women can get laid and men can't, because there's the same goddamn number of women looking for cock as men looking for pussy. And every time a woman gets cock, a guy gets pussy. It is not possible for straight women to get laid more than straight men.

In pickup rather than partnership contexts it's difficult to disprove the "a few super-promiscuous guys get all the pussy" theorem so popular among self-pitying couchfucks, but (just based on personal experience, anecdote, and Earth Logic) the vast majority of sex is partnership, not pickup. It's obvious that in monogamous heterosexual partnerships, men and women have exactly the same amount of sex.

Also, please note that women are reusable, and a woman who is "taken" for a night by a super-promiscuous man will be right back on the market the next night. (Or a couple weeks later if he really burns her.)

Because most people require more than just availability from their sexual partners, some people will end up celibate against their wishes, but note that this is a bi-directional problem; for every man sitting at home alone sighing, there's a woman in the same position. Not only do men have the same amount of sex as women, women have the same amount of not-sex as men. Incel women are less likely to be vocal about it, however, because culture encourages them to blame their own lack of attractiveness rather than demand men accept them as they are.

Men get laid just as much as women. If you don't get laid and are unhappy, this is your problem, not a gender issue. Being "incel" is the fate of the picky, shy, or socially inept, not of the male. And implicitly blaming women for cruelly making themselves unavailable to you is super creepy and I wouldn't fuck you either if I heard you saying that shit.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

The Myth of d20 Sexuality.

Oh, I was just born a submissive heteroflexible masochistic slut with a preference for medium-husky boyish geeks. Like someone rolled a die at birth and picked my identity off a loot table. Maybe it's genetics. Maybe it's "wiring." Maybe it's magic.

And if it wasn't that way, it's a problem. If society, or my childhood, or my past experiences contributed to my preferences, they're no longer valid. The fact that I like to be cut with a knife is totally hot and cool when it's just some random thing--as soon as I reveal that I used to self-cut, it's probably pathological and I need to address my issues and certainly not play that way. The only healthy fetishes are the ones that you're sure came out of fucking nowhere.

Of course that isn't true. My present bears all the marks of my past, and my past wasn't all hugs and bunnies--not that I'm some sob story, no one's past was perfect. I'm a generally happy person right now, I'm pretty comfortable in my skin, but I'm nobody's blank slate. A lot of my sexuality comes from my past, in good, bad, and neutral ways.

And I think that's okay. It makes me happy now, and anyway I can't get rid of it even if I "should." If I'm happy before I get cut up, while I'm getting cut up, and after I get cut up--that's enough. It doesn't have to be "pure."

This is one of those arguments that's probably not true at extremes. If you've been really badly abused and now you seek out really bad abuse, I'm not nearly enough of a licensed kink-friendly therapist to tell you how to deal with that. Although my belief is that "your abuse disqualifies you from all kink, sorry but you have to be vanilla now" might not be the whole answer.

But if your life was a little rough, and now you like your sex a little rough, probably it's not unconnected, and that's okay.


I just told a guy I didn't want to see him anymore. We'd only had three dates, but two of them were sleepovers and he was taking things pretty seriously, to the point where I felt I had to explicitly say I was dumping him, it wouldn't have been right to take the "just let him go to voicemail" way out.

I feel kinda crappy about it, because it wasn't a clear-cut thing, there wasn't a great reason. He wasn't a fuckup or mean to me or bad in bed. It was just... you know how sometimes you talk to someone, and the conversation just flows, and you can go for hours just coming up with crazy ideas and making each other laugh? And you know how other times you talk to someone, and it's not bad, but you can never get beyond pleasantries and politeness? Talking to him was the latter.

He was upset when I told him! And he wasn't a bad person! Augh! I hated doing it and I still have that "you idiot, why are you throwing away a perfectly good boy" feeling, but I felt like we were going to become involved while still not able to talk to each other, and the sooner I cut that off, the less it would hurt.

Bleh. I am not an experienced dumper. I've only explicitly and one-sidedly dumped one other guy in my life, and he kinda-sorta raped me so it wasn't that hard a decision. This dumping-a-nice-person-stuff sucks ass.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

One Page of PUA.

My new Cosmo still isn't here. I know there is a new one, I've seen it in stores, but I'd feel dumb buying it in a store when I have a subscription. But I feel like harshly mocking someone who's obviously wrong... hm... Cosmo website is slow... Satoshi Kanazawa doesn't post very fast and right now he's onto describing the obviously ancient evolutionary divide between liberals and conservatives... I've lost all interest in Twisty Faster... ooh! PUAs! The well of crazy that never runs dry!

Bear in mind, I'm lazy. I don't have the time or inclination to comb through hundreds of posts from dozens of forums to find the few stupid statements in an otherwise reasonable community. No, these are just from the top few posts in the "Beginner" forum at "Fast Seduction." I didn't even hit "next page."

I was talking with a couple of guys and girls and suddenly I said to one of the girls (it was the first thing i said to her).
"Your mother smells like a pigeon". she didn't respond.
About half an hour later, she asked me if i wanted to searsh for a toilet with her (we were in a park). And the rest is rock and roll history.

I... wow, gosh, I don't even... what does a pigeon smell like, anyway?

When I open groups of girls who don't respond well to my approach, I've found that a common line they use is "We're not interested" and they'll return to their little huddle.
Since it's common enough among the negative responses, I'd like to know if you have any responses for this. I'm assuming that line is a shit test, and they're really hoping you'll overcome the test and show yourself to be the attractive guy they're filtering for.

A woman said "no," can you please explain to me why this really meant "yes"?

How do you know who's a slut? here's a quick guide:
1. Reach hand down pants.
2. If she has a pussy, she's a slut.

Women are horrible hateful things, and I just wish I could have one.

[Q: A girl was supposed to meet me but flaked out, and this bothers me.]
[A:] WRONG, if you are still thinking about her, she has achieved her goal of getting you emotionally invested in her.

Yeah, because when I don't meet guys and don't talk to them, I'm trying really hard to get them invested. (And their obsession with me is thus my fault.)

Ive already gotten the name of this HB7 that works in a record store (bought a couple of CDs in the process) and now i need some ideas on how do i go back in and #close her.
Wow. You got her name. That's some serious progress bro, it means she's dripping for it, better seize that opening. ...Was she wearing a nametag by any chance?

I chatted up this one girl who was selling those heat pad things. We were talking bout it. The whole conversation was fairly playful. I brought up how I could use it after a work out. She gave no compliment even tho I was peacocking my pecs and biceps. Made her laugh about how she knows nothing about how these things work. Conversation was very fluid, up until I ran out of stuff to say...
She was very intent on talking about nothing other than the pad thing she's selling. I need to figure out how to transition from talking bout the crap they're selling to personal stuff.

She's a salesperson. Of course she'll talk to you; she has to talk to you as long as you're keeping up some slight pretense that you're talking about the product. But if every time you try to pry into her personal life she goes "um, yeah, so another thing you can use the heating pad for is...", this is not your failure in technique, this is a very clear message she's sending you.

Never try to logically or through verbal communication make woman to change. Doesn't work at all. Women thought by actions only.
Woman not thought logically or verbally this anyway, that's for damn sure.

And that's the end of the page. That's the end of ONE RANDOM PAGE on a PUA site. What I'd find if I actually went looking for bad stuff is presumably beyond my worst nightmares.

The theme that stands out the most, interestingly, is not manipulation or even straight-up misogyny, but an absolute inability to hear "no." You'd think, with their emphasis on doing a lot of approaches and not getting attached, PUA doctrine would be to instantly accept a "no" as "your loss, toots" and move on, but these guys twist themselves in knots to explain why "no" means they're getting there, they just need to try harder! I hate to use the phrase "rape culture," I think it's usually applied ridiculously, but... if a guy thinks that not calling him means you want him to fall in love, what do you think he'll interpret "no, I'm not ready for sex now" as?

And the really depressing thing, which I haven't mentioned in the quotes, is the age range of the posters. Some are older guys in their 50s, a lot are in college or the post-college drift, but a dispiriting number identify themselves as high school boys. I guess it's not uncommon for guys to go through a phase where sexual frustration manifests as misogyny, and hopefully these are the guys with the best chance of growing out of it and moving on, but I worry that overexposure to PUA will freeze them in this state. Constant othering of women and reinforcement of the messages "it's not her choice, it's your game," and "when you feel bad it's the woman fucking with you" seems like it could really mess with the head of someone too young to have real-life perspective.

I wish I had some way to talk to them. I really want to make these guys understand how and why to act like goddamn humans, and it frustrates me that I have no means of doing so.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Dog Catches Car.

I was playing World of Warcraft (yeah, I know...) and out of nowhere I got a message: "Hey baby wanna cyber?" No greeting at all, no preliminary conversation, just a message he's probably sending to every feminine username on the server. And then, in the safe little world of WoW, I decided to do an experiment.

"Sure!" I said.

We met at an inn, went to an upstairs room with a bed, and stood awkwardly on it because it's hard to sit or lie down in WoW. We took our clothes off, which still left us with unremovable underwear. We couldn't touch each other. And we... stood there. Staring.

I was willing, I told him, but since this was his idea he'd better be the one to get us started. So he told me about that he'd take my clothes off, and um, and um, he'd um...

He had no idea. Not the faintest sense of where to begin. It was clear he'd never actually had cybersex before, much less real sex, and although he reassured me he was 19, that's exactly the age I said I was when I was 14. (See, 18 is too obvious, but 19, that's like you picked an age at random, that's totally plausible.) The aggressive, harassing man was very literally a boy.

To his credit, he didn't get angry or disappear when I pointed out the above to him (well, I didn't speculate on his real sex life); he fessed up. He never actually had cybersex before, it just seemed like it would be really fun. He figured that one you get going, you know, the woman takes charge and she types sexy stuff to you.

"So what's in it for her? Why should she go to that trouble for you? That's like having to sit down and write an erotica story by yourself, it's hard work and I'd expect something out of it--sex or companionship or money or something. Why are you worth it?"

Um, um, well, she should, um, don't women just, um, I mean don't women like, um...

*DildoBaggins has logged off*


Monday, April 19, 2010

The Ordinary Guy With A Girlfriend.

In all the weird convoluted discussions of PUAs and Nice Guys and Beta Males and other such critters, you know which species never gets mentioned? Even less than the sub-model-appearance woman? The ordinary guy who has a girlfriend.

You see them every day. In fact, they probably make up the majority of the men you work with, go to school with, and socialize with. They're totally unremarkable guys, not all hot and successful, not all socially dominant, and they have girlfriends or wives. Generally just one apiece, and not all these girlfriends are super hotties or anything, but they're women and they usually have sex with their boyfriends and care about them.

It'd be silly to call these guys "Alphas," they're not the center of attention anywhere and they're not pulling models by the busload, but they get laid on a regular basis, they go on dates and do snuggly couple stuff with their girlfriends, and they seem reasonably happy.

It seems like if you can't get laid at all, it'd be better to try and become an ordinary guy with a girlfriend than to go straight from training wheels to the Tour de France by aiming for Alpha Male status. Approaching hundreds of women, putting on a "cocky and funny" act, every aspect of "game"--it's obvious that ordinary guys with girlfriends don't do that shit. Your average Joe Schmoe at the tire shop hasn't heard of PUA, doesn't have "Natural Game," isn't Brad Pitt and he works at the tire shop, but Jane Schmoe loves him anyway because that's how people usually work it out. (Now, Jane Schmoe might be a 4 or 5, but Joe loves her anyway because that's how people usually work it out.)

It's counterproductive, creepy, and crazy to think that the only options in life are World of Warcraft or a polygynous sexual cornucopia, when most normal straight guys just have a goddamn girlfriend.

Sunday, April 18, 2010


Of all the arbitrary, labor-intensive, and mildly humiliating things considered markers of attractiveness in women, few baffle me more than long fingernails.

I understand the appeal of clean and smooth fingernails, of course, and painting nails isn't too shocking. That's just another form of makeup, or a very mild body decoration.

No, what I don't get is the long nails. For my job, my sex life, typing, and frankly my life in general, I find it much more comfortable to have very short nails. I once tried on long fake nails, and it was a miserable experience; I had to manipulate small objects with the nails rather than my finger pads, and I found myself prone to "levering" the nails painfully off my nailbeds. (Then I tore and nearly removed my real fingernails when I tried to take the damn things off. I was dripping blood from a couple of fingers. SEXY GLAMOROUS BEAUTY.)

The really weird thing about long nails, too, is that men don't seem to care. Men often mention noticing a woman's body and clothing, often her makeup and perfume. I've never heard a guy comment on a woman's nails. The phrase "she was a slim 34DDD with silky blonde hair and nails so long she couldn't do her damn zipper" does not appear in Literotica stories. But somehow the nails still seem to be considered "sexy," sometimes even "slutty," and porn stars and sex-symbol models and actresses have ridiculous manicures.

What's "sexy" never seems to have much to do with what's good for sex, but in the case of nails the problem is particularly obvious. I got fingered once by a chick with long fingernails. OW.

At least the nails aren't mandatory. Short nails, like flats, are one of those beauty areas where you can generally get away with being comfortable and still look traditionally feminine. As long as they're clean, very few women and very few men are ever going to go "oh my god, your nails are so short, ewww!"

But this just makes it even more baffling that some women do go to the trouble of doing the nail thing. I don't understand it at all.

Saving America.

I went to a class yesterday that was part rifle marksmanship and part Revolutionary War history, and we spent about eight hours lying on our bellies in very cold mud (and it's always a good way to remind yourself of what soldiers sacrifice to go home afterward and take a hot shower and realize how lucky you are), and it was pretty fun for the most part.

But the instructors gave a big speech at the end about how America was in trouble and the government wasn't going to save America, the educational system wasn't going to save America, it was up to people like us to save America.

...Save America from what?

My friend whispered "the blacks and the gays," and I hope she wasn't right. I'm guessing it's maybe a little of that (and the feminists, and the immigrants, and the liberals, and the atheists, and the Je... "Hollywood and finance types," and whatnot), but a lot more of the idea that the government is intolerably oppressive, and just some free-floating feeling that things are getting worse all the time.

Which I don't share. I know I have a Pollyanna streak, but I don't see America as a nation in distress. We have plenty of problems, yes, but this is still basically an amazing place. We have more liberties than anywhere else in the First World and more privileges than anywhere that isn't First World. And I certainly believe in defending those liberties but I don't believe that they're going down the drain that fast.

In a weird way, the "oh no America is in ruins" rhetoric reminds me of paranoid Christians talking about the evil of "the world" or paranoid feminists talking about how patriarchy is eeeeeverrrywhere. There's a certain mindset that sees the outside world as degraded (and themselves glorified by contrast), and I want nothing to do with that mindset.

Maybe my context is a little different because I'm Jewish, and I've heard my grandmother's stories about what it's like when they really take your rights away, and to hear her tell it, it's not some subtle thing you'd have to read just the right blogs to know about. Taxation may be "holding your grandmother at gunpoint," but buddy, my grandmother's been held at gunpoint.

That's a nation in distress. And frankly that's the only political reason I'm learning to shoot. Because as long as guns, and the knowledge of how to use them, are distributed among the people, it'll be a lot harder to run a Holocaust. Nobody--not the government, not another government, not a group of crazy people of any stripe--will have an easy time taking over a country where any citizen has the power to fight back. If there was a war on our soil, the doorstep of every armed household would be its own front line.

But don't go telling me that because they passed a healthcare bill and you had to pay taxes and there were some scary blog posts that the war is on now. This is a great nation--right now, as it is, this is a wonderful place and if you think this is distress you've never seen distress. If you think that there's cause to take up arms right now, well--frankly, buddy, you're part of the reason I have guns.

I believe in readiness, but not paranoia. I am prepared for threats, but I'm reasonable enough to know when there really aren't that many and I'm free to live my life. My gun is by my bed, but it's not in my hand.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

The Behemoth.

After a couple months of relative drought, I'm having a lot of positive sex and kink experiences again. This is... awakening something. It's not new to me, but it had been dormant for a while. It's my enormous, ridiculous, behemoth sex drive.

Oh, I always have a sex drive in the sense of "yeah, I could go for some sex anytime," but the behemoth is different. It pervades all my time and all my thoughts. I step out in the rain and all I can feel is my nipples hardening to the cold. I sit down on the subway and I can feel the vibrations coming up from the seat to my pussy. One of my ear piercings had healed over, and I re-pierced it, and that tiny pain and little pop through my skin was... oh.

I think the stereotype is that it should work the other way--that I should be sex-mad when I'm not getting laid, satiated when I am. But the more sex I have, the more I want. Getting my ass railed is just sensitizing it.

A few posts back, when I was complaining about a guy overstaying his welcome by sleeping late? He woke up eventually, and then I fucked him again. And I would have done it twice if he hadn't needed to go. I masturbated after he left. But that doesn't say much, because I've been masturbating kind of a lot lately. I'd be doing it more except that I come really, really quickly.

I'd end this on my usual "everything in moderation" note by saying I'm sure this will level off with time, but actually I don't think so. This is how I just am a lot of the time. It comes and goes, yeah, but when it's here... it's a behemoth.

God, I want it so bad and I fucking love it when I get it. My life is awesome.

Friday, April 16, 2010

The Situation.


I've gone to a couple munches here in Boston and they have been pretty good. There's always people you don't like, that's inevitable whenever you meet a lot of new people, but the vast majority of munchers have given me the feeling "wow, I'd want to hang out with these people even if they weren't into weird sex."

This is in contrast to Seattle munches, which--maybe I picked the wrong ones, maybe I didn't present myself well, maybe I've just hit a streak of luck here--sucked ass. They came in two flavors, cliqueish ("You can't sit there, my friends are sitting there. ...You can't sit there either.") and intrusive ("HELLO FRESH MEAT!"). I found myself either desperate for any attention, or fending off overbearing attention.

Particularly the second. Cliquishness happens sometimes, lots of kinksters are socially awkward and I'm one of them, it's dissuading but not offensive. But I went to a couple of munches where the instant I was in the door, someone was cornering me and demanding to know my orientation, role, what I was into, and am I interested in playing with them. People were asking about my vagina before they'd asked my name.

It's kind of a weird thing, because on the one hand, I do want to find play and sex partners, and that is some of my motivation for attending munches. As I've often said myself, this ain't doubles tennis. So maybe it's dumb to complain about people wanting to get in my pants? But I prefer people to have a little tact in these matters. Call me totally irrational and hypocritical, but I'm more inclined to take my pants off for someone who doesn't use "wanna take your pants off?" as an opening line. Although actually that would be awesome.

Maybe it's just that if you want to fuck me before we've barely spoken, I get the feeling that a microwaved papaya would serve your needs equally well. (Wait, this is kink. A microwaved papaya that can say "ow.") As I grow ever more old and cautious and vain, I aspire to feel like I'm more special than a papaya.

Princess complex, I know.


I got a job!

I'm not going to go into detail here because I'm not completely insane, but it's in emergency medicine, it's decent money with benefits and hours I like, and I'm very happy.

Almost everything about this move has gone as well as it possibly could. I thought life in a new city would be so much harder than it's turned out. I am one Happy Holly.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010


He paused before entering me, his cock almost but not quite touching my pussy. "Do you want this?" he asked, breathily, and waited.

Well, that's a silly question; I was naked on the bed in front of him, face down ass up and spreading myself open for him, and thirty seconds previous I had been sucking his cock. And it could pass for just dirty talk, blending in rather seamlessly with less consequential questions about do I like his big cock and am I a naughty little slut.

But I liked it because it showed beautifully how easy, and how crucial, explicit enthusiastic consent is.

(I should note at this point, because I believe in shades of gray and all that, that not every sexual encounter lacking explicit enthusiastic consent is rape. Just that explicit enthusiastic consent is a really good thing to be sure about if you wish to be a better lover than "not a rapist.")

I could have said yes. I could have said no. I could have said "hang on, let's talk." I had power over what would happen to me.

And I said yes. I said oh yes and rolled my hips back onto his cock and we both gasped a little. I said yes and it was extra sexy because I had the chance to say no. I said yes and then he knew I wanted sex, wanted his cock, wanted him.

Consent isn't just an ugly little prerequisite to sexiness. Consent, breathed out in an "oh yes, oh please yes," is in itself sexy.

Dangerous Flavors.

I love kissing a man who's been smoking. Like licking an ashtray? Hah. Like licking a mouth sharp and bitter with the thick flavor of the forbidden. A man who smokes has an edge of compulsion to him, of self-destruction, of being at once a bad boy and powerless before his desires.

I like drinkers too. Not when they're full-on drunk, not when they've gotten to the stage of being over-emotional or uncoordinated, but a guy who's had a few drinks just tastes good. And I love that little hint of clumsiness in a slightly drunken man, the way he puts just a little more or less force than he'd intended into everything.

Even coffee. As vices go it's milder, but it symbolizes another kind of self-destruction, the self-destruction of the good boy. You drink alcohol to play, but you drink coffee to work, and you drink a lot of coffee when work is draining you. A man full of coffee is a man without time for sex--oh, but he made time for me.

Then again, conversely, stank-breath says it's not all about me. It says he didn't put his lifestyle on hold for me, that when I breathe him in I'm taking him as he is. He doesn't need to make himself pretty. (Note, however, that this only applies to the bad-boy scents above, and if you have stank-breath from onions or bad teeth, for the love of God eat a freaking Altoid.)

The flavors of tobacco, of beer, and of coffee are bitter and a little brutal, and for that reason sexy as all hell.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Good Days.

Boston is, unbelievably, everything I'd expected it to be. Maybe it's just my newness (and copious free time), but my social life hasn't been this good since college. If ever. It's fun.

I've been spending a lot of time as Holly Pervocracy. Both literally--in Seattle I was rather closeted about my sexblogging even among perverts, here everyone but my family members and professional contacts know about it--and in the sense of what character I'm playing. [Realname], while arguably smarter and more polite than Holly Pervocracy, can be painfully awkward and inhibited. Holly Pervocracy isn't just a pervert slut, she's also far more outspoken and self-confident than [Realname]. She can say "vagina" in public and talk to strangers and everything.

Man, when I wrote in that fakepost that being Holly Pervocracy has pushed me into situations that I would never have gotten into on my own, I wasn't kidding. I honestly think [Realname] would still be putting up with Benny in Seattle right now if it weren't for blogging and all that it's helped me to learn and become. (And all the awesome people I've met through it.)

I'm not completely insane, "being Holly Pervocracy" really just means faking it till I make it, but... I'm making it. Which is awesome.

I think everyone should develop and then gradually come to embody their own quasi-fictional narcissistic alter ego. It's a wonderful growth experience.


It's not nice to shake a sleeping person and yell "GET UP GO HOME I WANT TO DO STUFF TODAY," but I'm really concerned this guy will sleep 'til one. (I think he's still here. There's a lump under the sheets. I also sleep in "cover all body parts so monsters can't get them" pose, so I shouldn't mock.)

God he was good. As vanilla guys go, he was "I'm not worthy" good. We did it four times and I think he could've done a fifth or sixth easy if I hadn't been getting sore. His move (every guy, I find, has at least one "my move," and they range from dorky to amazing) was to thrust all the way inside me and just baaarely move by inches and oh God. That's a really good move if you want to know what it feels like to have a woman coming around your cock over and over and over. And then he let loose and just started pounding me and oh God.

I don't want this to lead to anything and I feel kind of good about that. And then I feel kind of bad about that, because I'm crazy. But we really don't have enough in common to date. He's hot and a great fuck and seems to be a decent person, and he claims to think the same of me, and I hope we can leave it at that.

Every time I fuck a guy who's really really good at it, I think I learn more about what makes a guy good in bed. Here's what I've narrowed it down to: decency and confidence.

Decency - A guy who's good in bed doesn't give you cause to worry about him. He asks before doing anything questionable, checks in with you (but not constantly; see "confidence"), compliments you, reads your nonverbal signals, gets pleasure from giving you pleasure, and is cheerfully willing to do what you want and not do what you don't want. He takes safe sex measures as a given in any non-relationship situation. And he remains decent after he's gotten laid.

Confidence - A guy who's good in bed assumes things are going to go well. He doesn't needlessly apologize or ask for reassurance, and he moves decisively. He makes his own preferences known and is not shy about asking for or receiving pleasure. If his biology fails him, he goes "oh well, it happens" and makes up for it with his hands. He can be gentle, but not tentative; open to suggestions, but not at a loss for what to do next. He lets you know when he doesn't like something you're doing. He expects you to enjoy him and expects to enjoy you.

I guess these are fuzzy compared to "cock goes here" sex tips, but honestly, those are no use to a guy shoving his cock here without asking or a guy meekly whispering "would it maybe be okay if I um never mind um put my cock here?" If you have your head on straight then the physical aspects are cake.

And I know it's neither decent nor confident to wish someone would GO ALREADY and yet not actually wake him, but fuck, it's 10:45, he's been asleep for like 10 hours, WAKE UP DAMMIT GOOD SEX MAN.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Words for women who have sex.

Kinky does not mean slutty. Slutty does not mean easy. Slut does not mean whore. Slut does not mean bitch. And normal does not mean "none of the above."

Kinky: I am kinky. This means that I enjoy painful or otherwise unusual activities sexually. This does not mean that I have more sex, am hornier, or have sex with more people than the average woman. (I do, but that's coincidental.) A kinky person can be monogamous, abstinent until marriage or serious commitment, or even celibate.

Also, someone who is sexually enthusiastic, but does nothing weird or hitty in bed, is not "kinky," they're just... sexually enthusiastic. And likewise someone who is kinky can be totally boring in bed, lemme tell ya.

Slutty: I am somewhat slutty. This means I have sex with a large number of people without romantic commitment. I say "somewhat" because I'm slowing down a bit as of late; uncommitted sex itself is awesome, but the trappings--terrible sex, creepers, douchebags, people who expect too much after, people I find myself expecting too much from after--have forced me to ease back on my slut frequency. I'm still a slut though; what I am not is...

Easy: I am not easy. Easy would mean that I was an indiscriminate slut, and I am not; I sleep with a large number of people but they are all (ideally...) people I find attractive and trustworthy. "I fuck a lot of people" is a very different condition from "I'll fuck anyone."

Whore: I am not a whore. A whore has sex for money; or more generally, a whore has sex to get something. I have sex to have sex. I'd rather buy my own dinner and drinks, but if a guy insists on paying, that's just a favor he's decided to do me. I'm amazed by the attitude some guys have that a hooker costs $150 but an ordinary woman shouldn't accept a $3 cocktail if she doesn't intend to spread 'em.

Bitch: I am not a bitch. Well, not for refusing sex, anyway. Here's a thing I think certain men don't understand: my default state is "not having sex with you." I hope that doesn't sound hostile or egotistical, I mean it literally. Not having sex with you isn't an action I take, it's what I was planning to do. If I get hot for you I might change my plans, if I can and if I feel like it. (I think a dude yesterday thought I was brushing him off when he chatted me up at 6:50 and I said "I'm meeting people at seven"; dude, you were totally cute, I was actually meeting people.) I know it's hard when a major physical and emotional need depends upon the decisions of others, but from my point of view it's still my decision to make.

Gah, I always sound so cold when I talk about these things. As if saying "I'll decide whether I want to have sex with you" was somehow equivalent to "NO WAY LOSER HA HA." Deciding includes saying yes! I actually feel rather guilty and awkward saying no to guys, but the alternative is saying yes to literally anyone who asks, and that's just not going to work for me.

Normal: Having weird sex, having uncommitted sex, having sex with whoever, having sex for trade, not having sex with whoever--all are incredibly commmon activities and very normal. I can't say if the majority of people do these things, but millions do, and every section above describes some permutation of a normal sex life. Whether you say "normal" with pride or disdain, sluts and kinksters and whores are normal. Sex is as ordinary as eating tomatoes.

Hell, you can even buy it in a can. Although if you want Italian seasoning you'll have to add your own.