There's always a catch...

I got nothing. I also realize I haven't written for some time. With that in mind, I leave you with a comic and some memorable quotes from my holiday weekend.

See more comics from this artist here.

Totally true, by the way. The next guy I sleep with better offer to take me home to his bed full of money. Also, please hide the dirty socks and the porn.


And noooooooooooooowwwwwwwwww (imaginary drum roll): memorable weekend quotes!

Three friends: S, A, and Me (now in fun, festive Christmas colors!).

A: [rambling about good sex with her man]

S: Hey, some of us aren't getting any.

Me: Yeah, don't rub it in, jerk.

A: I didn't say I had great sex today.

Me: I know you've had sex recently. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow...

A & S: [laugh hysterically]

Me: I never knew I could segue into Casablanca so smoothly. 

All: [more laughter]

______________________________

The same three friends, while out shopping on Black Friday. Scene: I just returned to the car from putting away the empty shopping cart, and heard this while the girls loaded into the car. AAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaand ACTION!

A & S: [talking, mention salami]

Me: Whoa, what about salami now?

S: That is quite possibly the most random question ever.

A: Yeah, what ABOUT salami, huh?

Me: That'd make a good Facebook status. Guess who said this, the fat chick or the slut?

A: What if the fat slut said it?

S: Mmmmmmm....salami.

All: [laughter]

______________________

Me and S, after breakfast this morning:

Me: So my friend M has convinced himself that I'm flying out to see him for my birthday. I told him if I was going to that much effort, I better have one hell of a birthday surprise waiting for me.

S: Other than hot birthday sex?

Me: That's not really much of a surprise, is it?

S: Not really, but should still be loads of fun.

Me: Unless I have a boyfriend by then. 'Hey honey, sorry, but I've been friends with this guy for half my life and may never have another chance to fuck his brains out, so...'

S: He could be your freebie.

Me: My hall pass? I guess that works since I know I won't be shacking up with any celebrities.

S: And if you returned without sleeping with M, I would personally pick you up from the airport just so I could slap you. Seriously. TAP THAT.

Both: [laughter]


Conclusion: my friends and I are the best kind of slut.

Sex 101: Christening the Car

Recently, I met a lover. This is why I haven't been writing as much.

Priorities, people.

Due to circumstances, neither of our residences was an option for hooking up. This left us with few options:

Hotel 

Unfortunately that gets pricey in a hurry, especially with my libido.

And sometimes you get more than you bargain for.

Image via Flickr | rojer

Public

Awesome. I'm down for public sex. Not really down for audiences, tickets, or jail time, though.

However, I'd tolerate a ride in the back of a police vehicle if we got to go full-on lights and sirens.

Car

This has become the default option for us. Unfortunately such marvelous inventions as seatbelts (and the fucking BUCKLE), center consoles, cup holders, and more can really interfere with getting comfortable.

Adjusting to car sex led to a lot of bruising and a rather large mess. Though part of me is proud that our adventures prompted a full car detailing, in a sick and twisted way.

So now, I figured I'd share some essentials of successful car sex order to maximize comfort for people who need to get some but have limited locational options.

I do not recommend this position in small cars. Not safe. Not safe at ALL.

Image via Flickr | fung.leo

1. Blankets 
Venturing into TMI here, but some of us leave wet spots. If you're not cool with your car smelling like OMGSHITTONSOFSEX for weeks, you might want to have something in place that will absorb those bodily fluids so they can't linger for days on end. Of course, if you're into lingering odors (and bacteria), feel free to ignore this little piece of advice.

Fact: blanket = pussy magnet.

Image via Flickr | Maarten Dirkse

2. Condoms
As the old saying goes, accidents in back seats cause people. Protect yourself from disease, smelly cars, and parenthood. But don't keep them in the car or the continuous change in temperature will make them ineffective. Broken rubbers do not prevent kids.

You might wanna double-bag it if you picked her up at the local bar.

Image via Flickr | robertelyov

3. Water
Because even though you're fogging up the windows like nobody's business, you're probably still going to be working up quite a sweat. Hydration is essential.

If you want her love to flow like this, keep her hydrated.

Image via Flickr | Alaskan Dude

4. Lube.
Speaking of hydration, lube is a must. There isn't anything quite as UNsexy as not being able to get it in due to technical difficulties. Lube will ease that transition and allow you to get back to the feel-good sensations instead of worrying about what might be going wrong.

The product title says it all.

Image via Flickr | stagshop

5. A relatively isolated place. 
I feel like this goes without saying, but apparently a friend of mine witnessed a couple going at it in their car in a crowded parking garage on a Tuesday night. I understand that when you need some, you need some. But as I mentioned earlier, I don't want good lovin' to lead to jail time. Jail is not sexy.

6. A car large enough for these kinds of activities. 
I'm not exactly tall, but I still have problems with hitting my head on the roof of the (in our case, rather large and spacious) car. And holy shit, do seat belt buckles rubbing against your inner thighs and/or rib cage HURT.

So can you get it on in your tiny ass sports car? Probably not happening, sorry to break it to you.

Soccer mom van? Fuck. Yes. It's the perfect shaggin' wagon.

Now that you know what's up, bring some supplies and bend her over the backseat. Bottoms up!

My friends continue to be awesome.

It was a cold weekend in February, late Friday night.

I was already in bed - I am lame because I spend way too much time working. Meanwhile my friend in LA was wide awake and drinking. And so I woke up early Saturday morning to these messages from her:

2:17 am: Hey lady... You awake?

2:28 am: So I am sitting here with my boyfriend's friend J... And he wants to know if he can give you an Australian kiss.

2:29 am: And if you don't know what that is... it's a French kiss but down below ... Oh, and he wants you to sit on his face.

3:22 am: He wants you to know he is "Viking Hot"

I got in touch with my friend the next afternoon to ask her what the hell happened. Apparently J is single and ready to mingle, even if the chicks he's into are hundreds of miles away. My friend didn't help the situation by showing him pictures of me. Then she regaled me with other flirtatious gems from J, most of them revolving around how much he wanted me to sit on his face. AND drive six hours for the privilege.

J, wherever you are - you, sir, are a true gentleman. A word to the wise - I'm much more likely to travel for face-sitting time if you're including a plane ticket with your rambling. Also, pics or you're definitely NOT viking hot.

Sex 101: What do you call your vagina?

People tell me I say vag and vagina a lot.  I suppose that's true. I have one. It's one of those mystery-of-the-universe things where even though I own one, I don't quite understand it. I find that fascinating.

I kinda want to compare vaginas to fire, but that might be a bad analogy. I mean, I know the basics of how fire burns, but I don't really understand what makes it so hot. Or why it consumes everything.

Hell, this might be the perfect analogy for my vagina. Except for the burning part.

Aaaaaaaanyway.

This topic is recurring between me and friends. I lovingly refer to my vagina as "that little whore" and threaten it with forced celibacy all the time. As a result, my friends and I often talk about my tendency to over-share and general lack of boundaries. You can't comment...you're reading about this and most of you fuckers know me, which is what is truly scary.

So one night I was talking with my friends about vaginas and I don't even remember what got us on the topic, because for a change it was NOT me. Suddenly we were talking about a male friend's preference for Japanese women. And then they were recounting how they teased him about his love of Bento boxes.

It took me a full 10 seconds to get it, but when I did, it was full-on laugh-snort.

Then it occurred to me. I'm not getting creative at ALL with my vaginal discussions. I may talk about it a lot, but that doesn't mean I have to be boring!

There's all kinds of fun names for it I could be using when I just talk vaginavaginavaginablahblahblah all the time. Cooter. Cunt. Snatch. Clam. Love muffin. Vajayjay. Poontang. Pussy.  Beaver. Bearded clam. Cave of wonders. Fur burger. Gaping axe wound (I like that one, and I think I'll use it when I'm given hell for talking about my vagina - don't pick on me and my GAPING AXE WOUND!).

They're definitely fun to use, and creative to boot! But I want to take this a step further.

I think we need to mix in a little personal flair. Everyone has a fur burger. NOT everyone has a bento box.

There's the obvious pink taco for our ladies with a little Latina flair. 

Some poutine for those Quebecois that like a little gravy and cheese?

Oh god, I think I threw up in my mouth a little bit.

Seriously though, we should get creative with this. I'm bored with all the same old terms for vag. Let's wear our sex AND our heritage with pride, ladies! I dunno, since I'm white as hell all I'm coming up with at the moment is a basket of onion rings. But together, we can label races and vaginas AT THE SAME TIME!

Happy fucking birthday, bitch!

After a walking tour of a local tourist trap, during which I proceeded to make an ass out of myself in every way imaginable, my friends told me they had a surprise for me.

We rolled up to what looked like an abandoned Main Street USA shopping center on a poorly lit road in the middle of the bad part of town. The blazing neon beckoned, as did the beautifully made corsets hanging in the window. I laughed.

You guys brought me to a sex toy store for my birthday?


They just laughed and told me to wait until I saw the inside.

I don't even remember the name of the joint. I'm referring to it as the "Leather Daddy Store" from this point forward.

As soon as we walked in, I saw a dildo with a head that was literally as big as my face. I cringed like a dude who's about to get kicked in the nuts. The thought of something like that anywhere NEAR my girl parts makes me hurt.

Happy birthday! Monster dicks on sale!

Image: TheChanel via Flickr

Despite the massive fake cock that mocked me from the entryway, I had a blast exploring. We wandered around and I was essentially a big kid in an adult toy store.

I fondled whipping instruments.

I waved my gay pride rainbow flag.

I tried on a leather captain's hat and menacingly waggled a gigantic three-foot-long double headed dildo at one of my friends.

Best of all, I learned a lot about different aspects of the lifestyle. I asked the guy behind the counter a million questions about toys and floggers and various implements designed for different kinds of stimulation.

Even though the Leather Daddy Store has lots of stuff for people into hardcore BDSM, I really believe it has a little something for every adult looking to explore new horizons.

I bet you wish you had friends like me, eh? Why go out for drinks at any boring bar when you could be chasing your buddies with dildos and whips for your birthday?