I guess I'll do it....

I hope as I blog, I'm blogging for the masses and just me myself and I. And that the tales of how ridiculous life keeps you crazy kids coming back for more. The story I have for you today isn't necessarily about bloopers in the bed, but more about the kind of men I attract. I'm sure every female out there gets the feeling alone and that all they attract are losers. Well let me tell you, the men I find myself spending intimate time with makes your fellas look like Clark Gable.

I saw a picture on Facebook over the weekend that said "One day, someone will walk into your life and make you see why it never worked out with anyone else." This seems like it would apply to one of the twats I went to high school with. You know the type. The ones with perfect everything, hot boyfriend, rich parents, etc. So unless I kill Bella Swan and move in on that Edward Cullen man meat, that quote seems a little exclusive in terms of who it's trying to reach out to.

Ok, now to get what you've all come for. Like I said, this isn't a tale of sexual mishaps. The sex with this guy was actually pretty great. But I met him out and about one day and we decided to exchange numbers. It was a pretty brief encounter, so when I went to his place a week or so later, we really didn't know each other. And it was the typical awkward-small talk-get to know you-fill the time until we get to the sexy part conversations. I did what I could to get him to make a move. Place my hand on his knee, drape my legs over his, laugh at his not so funny jokes.

It just wasn't happening. He had his hand on my knees, but still, no dice. When the conversation died down he says "So, uh, why don't you come over here." So it was when I was practically sitting in his lap that he finally kissed me and things got moving. We made out on the couch for awhile before we went to his bedroom, where he totally rocked my world.

I feel like its odd that he would be so inept at making the first move, but then once things got going was the exact opposite.

And unlike the other guys I've told you about, or will tell you about, he's not a huge loser. He is educated, has a steady job, clean apartment, active social life. His only flaw was that he wasn't circumcised. Which is just weird. If I wanted to see an anteater I'd go to the zoo. And the blow job of that thing was beyond awkward, and mildly gross. But despite it's cosmetic flaw, he certainly knew what to do with it. So it's for all of these reasons I went back several times for more.

There was one night when I was leaving, I got in my car and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to drive home because my legs were jelly. He was that good.

You may be wanting to ask me: Why are you blogging and not in his bed right now? Well like any other guy, he became kind of an asshole. It started off slowly. The first time it was all about me. But he slowly worked his way through and turned the tables on me and made it about him. I'm embarrassed to say something like this happened to me. Dick became a total selfish lover. Not ok.

And lets not forget to mention that him telling me to make the first move became protocol, despite the fact that we'd hooked up several times. My favorite was "So, uh, why don't you take those clothes off." Maybe I'm just lazy but I hate removing my own clothes, especially when theres a perfectly capable man with a raging boner right there to do it for me.

So while my affair with him last much longer than anyone else, it came to an end. My friends hated him when I told them of what an ass he'd become. So I deleted his number, yahoo screen name, and anything else I could use to contact him. To make sure the call of the penis wouldn't over power me and message him.

To say I miss him would be a lie. To say I miss his penis would be an understatement.

Dyson Man

Despite the witty title, this story is not about Mr. Clean. The opposite actually. I met this "fine" gentleman at the grocery store. And lured me to his lair with talk of what a hockey fan he was. And for those of you who don't know, hockey is my weakness. Give me Ryan Kesler of the Vancouver Canucks any day.

I hadn't planned on sleeping with him, but I did. What a surprise.

From what I could gather from my surroundings, it seemed like a normal enough place. The shelves were a little cluttered, but there wasn't empty pizza boxes laying about. It was what I thought to be a guy's apartment, lacking the quintessential woman's touch. But the danger in this place was well hidden.

It started with making out on his couch. It wasn't the best make out session I've ever had, the Earth certainly wasn't shaking below me, but it was fun. And so as the groping and tonsil hockey (pun intended) went on, clothes were removed. Things were eventually relocated to the bedroom. Thats when I saw my first hint of what was coming.

As we were having sex, I looked over and spotted a large, incredibly furry cat. Cats are not my thing. They're awful. And with my head still turned towards the door, I spotted some cat hair on the sheet. But I didn't really think anything of it. Although I should have. Never trust a single man with a cat, especially a man with multiple cats as I later found out.

Half way through round 2, I suddenly had hair in my mouth, and I wasn't mine. I managed to get it out and realize...it's more cat hair. At this point I realize I need to get out of there. So he finishes and gets up to go to the bathroom. As he's walking to the bathroom a majestic flow of cat hair goes flying off his back and into the air.

He even brought up the cat hair. Saying that he tries to keep the cats off the bed but they come in during the day while he's at work. Cause you know, you can't close the door on the god damn monsters and keep them in the living room.

I realize that it's seriously time to go. I get up and get my clothes one. He comes back and gets his clothes on and walks me to the door. He was going to walk me back to my car but I was ok and he can stay.

Let me just tell you, if I didn't hate cats before, this pretty much killed any remaining affection. That drive home was miserable, my skin was crawling with disgusting cat hair. When I finally made it home, I couldn't get my shower hot enough to wash the feline and shame off.

And so my search continued (continues) for Prince Charming. And hopefully he'll a hockey god sans cats.

Welcome to my life.

As a twenty-something woman living in America, I am forever in search of my prince charming. And so in the search of the elusive tall dark & handsome man who only has eyes for me, I've encountered a lot of toads. Many of these stories I've shared with my friends and we've all had a good laugh at what a joke my personal life has become. And so I've decided to share my experiences, my misadventures, with the world. I know I'm not the only who has been with a guy and half way through thought "why am I even here?". So I guess my goal is to create a spot where we can laugh together.

 As many of you ladies know, there are some...interesting guys out there. And so I plan to blog to about some of the more odd ones, and believe me, I don't have a shortage of stories.

So let's start with the most recent. This fella had been pestering me for sometime to come over and "hang out", which as you fellow sluts know is code for come over and have sex. I'd met him once in a bar and like an idiot gave this guy my actual number. But for some reason this day I decided to say yes. And by "some reason" I mean it'd been about 4 months since I'd last had some and I was in need. So I agreed, got the address and headed over.

I get there, and I automatically begin to regret my decision. There was an odd smell in his place and I can only hope it wasn't bodies rotting in the crawl spaces. I sit on the couch take off my shoes and place my keys and phones on the table. It was clear early on that he wasn't going to be the one to make the first move. So I got up, made him follow me to the bedroom. When I turned around to face, my regret deepened when I realized that I didn't remember him being so ugly.

And then I saw them. A pair of pierced nipples. I should've run screaming right then and there. But I didn't. I allowed clothes to continue to be removed, and then as I was pushed back on the bed he leaned over to grab a condom. That's when I saw how thin and far back his hair line receded. I groaned internally, knowing that I only had moments left to actually get out run. But still I stayed. Penis is a drug and I wanted some. (all of you can put your judgement faces away.) And then he was in. And let me just say, any man who brags that is equipment is "big enough to satisfy you" is automatically put in the yea right category. Because anytime a man has said that or something similar, I am ALWAYS disappointed.

So there we were. He was doing he best to hump, but I just laid there thinking "this isn't worth the gas to come down here" He kept pulling out the finger me, and I thought it was odd. But all would be explained in a matter of minutes...literally. After MAYBE 5 minutes, I swing my legs over to get on my knees and tell him to do me doggy. That's when I hear "I already came." I had to have him repeat it because I thought for sure I'd heard him wrong. But no. He had finished and I hadn't even gotten going. He left the room the flush the condom (which I don't get, don't they know that's gonna get stuck somewhere?) I got off the bed, threw my clothes back on, went to the living room to retrieve my shoes phones & keys and walked out the door without saying another word to him.

Probably the biggest bitch move I'd ever made with a guy, but can you blame me? To talk a big game and then fumble so epically, you deserve it. Thankfully, he has yet to call/text/im/email/tweet/etc. Hopefully his shame rivals my irritation.

So people, I hope my first blog entry has kept you entertained enough to return for more. But this, ladies and gentlemen, is just the tip of the iceberg.