(ok smart asses, I have decided to ignore the Time Space Continum and post TODAY as Velvet ignores the protocol of not posting from work Consider it a gift.)

I may have given a shout-out (pun definitely intended) on this before but I feel it needs repeating.

There are few (obvious) things I relish more during sex than hearing the audible pleasure of my mate. That’s right boys, you gotta open up and say “ah” (or basically anything that can be inferred as an indication of elation).

There are all sorts of sounds or otherwise audio-visual displays that will do. Here are some typical examples: moaning, screaming, panting, oohing and aaahing, and of course the declaration that some Deity has become involved in the scene.

Other occasions, but none-the-less important ones, are also: mmmming, humming, open mouth breathing, extreme cases of grining or smiling, holding one’s breath and whimpering.

In a pinch I will also accept facial expression(s): eye squinting, lip biting, neck craning, etc. This of course can’t go too far because if I am fucking eyes wide open (and I do) then anything off the map will cause me to start giggling. The redonkulous “O Face” is only acceptable under extreme circumstances…like complete drunkenness or sex-under-desperation on my part. Otherwise plan to hear me unleash the laughter.

Then there are the seemingly creative fucks who, if they aren’t praying to their god, are coming up with witless prose such as the likes of: “don’t stop”, “keep doing that”, “I’m the luckiest man in the world”, “oh shit”, “oh fuck” and/or “I’m gonna orgasm/cum/blow (mad lib here)”.

Those are pretty standard. But then there are the gems. I’ve heard all sorts of stories including requests for biting, strangulation, scratching, face slapping and anal probing that appear at the heat of the moment. Recently on a pity trip (read: fuck) to Pennsyltuckey 007 was throwing it to me good (for about the 5th time for the weekend) and just before he lost his…said “are you my whore?” Shocked and completely thrown off, I giggled like a school girl. Good one, 007, you win the prize. (p.s. the answer is “yes, I am”).

And who doesn’t fear calling out the wrong name. That’s why I always give the advice to date people with the same name or stick with something simple like “baby” or eliminate the personal pronouns all together. And ladies, you too have to be careful. Once I yelled “Noo!” during chemically induced sex with someone who was particularly squirrely, which put a giant grinding halt on the action. I was like “what? what happened?” and the look on his face was complete horror. I snapped out of it and all was well. Don’t worry kids, his days were numbered anyway. (Velvet wanna take a stab on who this was?).

Of course the kids of today are more creative than when I was cumming of age. If you don’t know about “Who’s the boss?” then you should read up here. Can’t say that I’ve heard or seen that in practice so if you have, please detail in the comments.

Unfortunately I have also encountered a good fuck here or there that just couldn’t give me any feedback. That was completely disappointing because a woman likes to hear if what she’s doing is managing the trick and if you want more, less or different*. In a pinch I have had to settle for the onset of snoring 20 seconds after the deed was done as a sign of complete satisfaction. I guess if I rendered someone unconscious then I can consider that success.

As a side note I would like to state, for the record, yet totally unsurprisingly, that listening to other couple’s auditory applause is very stimulating. It’s half of what makes porn tolerable. Who doesn’t love Hotel Sex where you can belt out like a soprano and/or rouse your mate during the opera next door. Once, in Paris, I was awakened by my jet-lagged boyfriend who said “hear that?!!!!” and then it was 3 am sex for us! There are exceptions to this rule: 1) parents/siblings and other members of one’s family, 2) fat/ugly/uncivilized roommates who refuse to find someplace private to get it on and 3) the elderly.

Just saying, kids, and saying it LOUD AND CLEAR.

*Gentlemen please note: If a good woman isn’t getting the right signals that you are done or very damn well close, then she’s going to keep at it until she extracts it out of you. In other words I’ll-take-that-5th-orgasm-thank-you-very-much-if-you-can’t-manage-to-have-
one-yourself. And if it ain’t going to happen it’s ok to let us know.

Tuesday came and went and there’s no Sixes. I don’t know what to say. She’s unreliable. And a whore. And she’s currently trying really hard to not let her current beau know as such. So we won’t be seeing her for a while.

Today I’m going to provide for you a live-blogging stream of my work-related bitching. Check back if you care to see how my day is going.

11:14 a.m.:
The bathroom currently smells like someone cooked a flounder, then took a shit on it. This a twice-daily occurrence. Someone needs a colonoscopy, STAT.

12:24 p.m.:
I just informed someone that seeing as how my company wrote a contract on misrepresented terms, he may want to consult a lawyer, but the client is still, technically, legally, HIS. He said, “Oh NO! I don’t want them anymore. They are yours!” “Again, sir, you probably want to call your attorney because this appears to be one giant mess.”

3:59 p.m.:
I just spied like the 5th pair of NUDE SUNTAN pantyhose here in the building. Jesus christ. That is not cool.

In honor of the rain that won’t quit, I break my previous rule about not posting from work to, yes, you guessed it, post from work.

My fRienDs, By vElveT in dUpoNt

Thursday evening started a whirlwind victory tour celebration for E’s birthday. A milestone birthday? No. Just a regular old, run of the mill, 24. 23. (Yes, I maintain friendships with “preteens” but they are only limited to a select few.) E’s boyfriend, the Black Market Wholesaler (don’t buy a laptop on CL because BMW is the seller and it’s usually just a Georgetown yuppie’s rehabbed laptop that he cleaned some dust out the keyboard, then relisted for twice the price - a capitalistic business plan of which I approve, however, I’ll continue to get my laptops the old fashioned way: by wearing short skirts and asking Mr. X to haggle a reduced price for me,) tricked us into joining the celebration.

BMW sent this totally flattering email about how Mr. X and I are the only couple he could potentially tolerate for a 30 course dinner, so did we want to join them for E’s birthday but it’s a big surprise. How on earth could I say no to that? All I had to manage was to keep my mouth shut. Not easy. But I did it.

Anyway, 1 sea urchin, 1 olive oil ball, 1 “organized ceasar salad” (because all the ceasars you’ve been eating are a “disorganized mess,”) 1 deconstructed philly cheese steak, some cotton candy, 25 other non-descript courses and several thousands of dollars later, Mr. X and I joked that maybe we should stop and pick up some mozzarella sticks on the way home.

Sixes came down Saturday morning for the continuation of E’s three day celebration. (Seriously, who are you? Miley Cyrus?) Sixes asked about the Hostess and her boyfriend, perennially caught up in a sea of “we’re broken up” / “we’re back together.” The conversation went something like this:

Me: They just have too many rules and I don’t think they can get beyond their rules.
Sixes: What do you mean? The Hockey Player and I don’t have any rules and Ohmygod did I tell you how cute it is when he..
Me: SIXES! Enough!
Sixes: What? Do I talk about him a lot?
Me: Yessssss! (Trying to show exasperation in my tone.)
Sixes: Well, it’s this version of me or the other version and you didn’t like that cracked out whore very much.
Me: Okay. I’ll take this version. Anyway, The Hostess makes these nutty rules that I just laugh at her for. They’ve gotten back together and broken up so many times that even when she’s crying, I think I’m just laughing and that’s really not a very good friend. But seriously, she’ll say, ‘Okay, well we decided not to talk but that didn’t work because we missed each other so we decided to just instant message only but then we started talking about getting back together so I had to get off IM and so we started to text but then we couldn’t say everything we wanted in texts and he got mad so he said we shouldn’t talk at all so then we stopped, but then I saw him at the dog park and then when everyone went home we made out but no, we’re totally not back together and I swear we’re not talking for the whole month of May unless it rains for exactly 2 hours and 4 minutes before 11 a.m. on Tuesday, then we’ll talk but only by IM and only if he’s flossed his teeth and not for more than a minute and 16 seconds because we realize that at a minute and 17 seconds that we start to fight so that’s what we decided.’
Sixes: Oh. My. God. So this is what I’ve been missing?
Me: Yeah, so now they are broken up.

Sixes and I napped (by nap, I mean, Sixes napped and I watched Forensic Files) and then we went to E’s next birthday celebration. After we ordered some $100 worth of wine and morsels of cheese, we decided to make our money work harder for us and we went Annie’s where I ordered my favorite: steak fries and BBQ sauce. While Sixes and I were eating, and decompressing, because if you think that catching a vision of E sauntering around in short shorts, stilettos and a push up bra doesn’t burn a “porn star” image in your head that you’re hard pressed to get rid of well, you’re wrong. All of a sudden I see something hilarious:

The Hostess.

Her “boyfriend” /ex-boyfriend.

And all the dogs in tow.

Sneaking down the alley to the Hostesses house.

I scream out to the entire restaurant: “OH MY GOD LOOK AT THE HOSTESS AND HER BOYFRIEND!” Never ones to not be pot-stirring assholes, Sixes and I promptly texted her, “So, what are you doing?” She replied that she was just hanging out and asked what we were doing.

“Oh, not much. These french fries at Annie’s are goooood.”

“Damn it! You saw us!”

“Yes, just get back together already and Sixes said we should just go pick out bridesmaids dresses tomorrow since she’s in town.”

The End.

I hate to make Wednesday the standard bitch-about-work day, but by Wednesday I’m ready for the weekend because of some work related trauma. I could entertain with stories about how some woman ended up on the other end of my phone this week and said she lived “at the condoms.” Or I could outline an illicit behind-the-scenes affair between co-workers that someone sniffed out and ran to inform me of. Or I could go on and on and on about how I called a Developer to ask how many units they would be building and they refused to answer.

“D’as none yo’ bidness.”

I know me a shady Developer or two. Hell, I worked for one. Heh.
But I think that today, due to events of the past weekend I’d like to speak to Mr. X, in a 4-part series of e-cards.

Date #2

“Hey Brad…”

Velvet was instrumental in setting this one up. I turned her lose on instant messenger when she was here and she served as my Matchmaker. So last week I had my second online dating rendez-vous.

Brad’s a nice guy. Funny too. Unfortunately all 6′7″ of Brad remind me of the brother on Everybody Loves Raymond. Lucky for me it was downtown and there were plenty of things to distract me and my date…like the local radio station party at the Mexican restaurant across the street (that just happens to be in one of those old school silver diner buildings). And it was prom night. THANK GOD for Prom Night. Poorly fitting tuxedos and orange ruffles kept me from being too cute and too charming.

Here two things I will warn you all NOT to do/say on a date:

1) Do not constantly put up your arm looking for a high five when your date says something funny. Especially if you have a wingspan fitting a man 6″7″.

2) Find an appropriate, adult, mature or funny thing to refer to genitals when telling a story. Brad told me about some of the women he’s met on line (one date he had brought her pregnant gerbil in a stroller). He referred to one date as having a tattoo of her eight year old son on her left thigh. As if that information wasn’t bad enough, he demonstrated where this tattoo was placed by mimicking that she had on a mini skirt and then showed the length of her tatt that reached from her knee to her…”No-No”.

Yes, you read that right. Brad referred to her vagina as her “No-No”. I didn’t have a reaction to this. I am not sure I still do. ‘Cause in my world, that’s more like a “Yes-Yes”.

“Not Brad”. Poor guy.

Now with that said I have a few excerpts from the 100 or so emails I have gotten from potential suitors. Some of these I don’t have a CLUE what they mean and others are too cliche to even consider making commentary (that’s your job kids). But here they are for your own amusement.

“Very new to this site (day 2). I was reading your profile and couldn’t help but think of a few neon road trips where the pool table legs met dirt floor.”

Um…um…anyone have an idea what that means? It’s not like my profile talks about Hunter S. Thompson!

How about this guy from Pittsburgh (which is only about 5 hours away).

“hi. i would really like to talk to you, i’m eric. i would love to find out more about you. i live in pittsburgh and i own a restaurant on the south side. i also work as a marketing consultant in the arts. i am 41 and have never been married. i am a musician and author and i am very much in shape. i lift, practice kung-fu, tai chi & yoga. i am also heavily involved in masonic charities. i am well educated (three masters degrees) and i have endured several careers thus far.i am deep and spiritual and definitely different than most of the guys on this site. anyhow, be in touch. e”

Clearly Eric is so deep that he can’t use capitalization. I am not sure which part is my favorite there.

“Okay okay. Im really diggin ur profile but I must ask you one question. You’re a ferocious hockey fan and thats important. So, are you Caps fan or Kings fan ? Because if it’s the Kings, we’re done !!!! Lol, alright I’m def kidding BUT I have a few friends that play for the Caps, so I kinda have to like them. And, they get me tickets all the time, so I’m def loyal to them. It’s a bummer they lost in the first round, but, most of them are coming back next year, so they’ll do even better next year,for sure !

Unfortunatley, I am from here, so I def know all the little dive joints for food and drink. I have lived in several cities though. I lived in Miami, Philly and Baltimore for a total of 5 years. So I have been cultured somewhat. And I did attend chef school outside of NYC for a while. I learned that it wasn’t for me, but who knows, if I’d have stuck to it I may have been the next Bobby Flay !!!

So now I just own a petstore that keeps me pretty busy. Check out my profile and see my puppy. Its a good thing that you like dogs because they are a pretty large part of my life. In my spare time I like to travel, be outdoors, cook and most importantly, eat at fine and not-so-fine restaurants.

wink wink”

This was his first email to me and I even edited it down for length. It went on for several more paragraphs. I already know everything about this guy so I don’t even need a date.

Another thing I love are the profile names people pick:
DaddyRulz, H20FUNATIC, livesinatreee, EDLover, Paragonofanimals, milidude, sweetstang, vitamineA, CaptRox,Turbodanne, etc…..What seems more appropriate is “baldnhorny”, “mywifzlftme”, “ihas10kidz”, “uwannabmybabemama”, “formerfellen”, “myxizacon”, etc.

So needless to say this has been entertaining. Thank you Velvie for a little spring time fun. Not sure I can stomach this much longer without a lot of chemicals.

Oh and shouts out to E who is celebrating her tween birthday this week. I was going to get her a Dick In a Box, but I hear she already has one. Next week…I might hit up Greek Fest and minor league baseball and if you are good give a Puck Fuck update.