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Choosing Civility: The Twenty-five Rules of Considerate Conduct Blow Me Blow Me Half Broke Horses The Glass Castle Steve Jobs

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Welcome to my blog on dating in Los Angeles.  I hope you find my real life stories and anecdotes on being smart, sexy and single in the City of Angels as amusing (and tragic) as I do.  If you enjoy reading my posts, please share this blog site with your friends, family, loved ones, and less loved ones.  

Please check out my Sex and the City style novel Blow Me—available now in e-book and paperback on my website and lulu.com. Also available in ebook on amazon.com and Google books.

Entries in Women & Sex (14)


No Dogs Allowed

I bet you think you talking about you...don't you... don't you... you're so vain... WRONG! I'm not talking about you men, for once, when I use the word dogs. Get over yourself!

Those of you who read my novel, BLOW ME, know all about Dog Boy. Those of you who haven't read my novel... shame on you. You're reading my blog every week for free and you can't scrape up $9.95 for a digital copy on Amazon? Seriously?

Anyway, back to Dog Boy, so as not to bore you folks who cannot be bothered to read the book. This character was based on a real person. He was not someone I dated, but someone a friend of mine dated. This man was so in love with his dogs there was no room left for a woman, especially in his bed. Picture this. Three large dogs, a man, a woman and a remote control all squished into a queen sized bed. Talk about a dog pile! 

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Pillow Talk

I lay in bed this morning, my cat nestled beside me snoring, and thought about how difficult it would be to share my bed with someone—other than a cat—on a permanent basis. I love sleeping. I love my pillows. I love my 300 thread count cotton sheets. I love my Duxiana bed. The idea of waking up next to someone every day for the rest of my life is very appealing on some levels, but the idea of having to share a queen-sized, or even a king-sized bed, with another person is less than appealing.

Prior to 1925 there was no such thing as a master bedroom. The term did not exist. Much as the infamous metal sign in the Hollywood Hills which originally read “Hollywoodland” started as a real estate promotional stunt to market an undesirable area of Los Angeles, the concept of a master bedroom was created as the United States entered the Great Depression. It was a time when land was at a premium and most married couples could not afford two bedrooms. One large bedroom occupied less square footage. It was an illusion of grandeur, and a fantastic marketing tool. By the 50's, master bedrooms were common place. Today’s critically acclaimed TV show Mad Men, set in the 50s, has Don and Betty Draper sharing one bed in a master bedroom. However, in the 1969 TV series The Brady Bunch, Mike and Carol Brady shared a master bedroom with two single beds, because it was a family show. Eventually the master bedroom became the norm, as did sharing one large bed.

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Boyfriend In A Coma

Boyfriend in a coma, I know, I know, it’s serious. There are times when I could have murdered him… for watching TV in bed!  I can’t help thinking of The Smiths whenever I see a man passed out in front of a television set.

When I was growing up my dad would fall asleep in front of the TV every night. He would stir around midnight and head upstairs to the master bedroom in a foggy haze. This is how I associate men and TV. I have yet to meet a man who doesn’t doze off the minute a TV is turned on at night. During the day, they can stay glued to it for hours if there’s a sporting event on—though, they do tend to nod off watching golf. At night, it’s like a visual source of Ambien. It’s the equivalent to me opening a book after 9pm—one paragraph in and I’m comatose—which is why I don’t read in bed. I never actually turn a page.

Before I moved into my current home, there was a flat screen TV on the bedroom wall. Obviously, a man lived there.

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WTF is with DTF?

I love the show Californication. It epitomizes the male perspective on dating in Los Angeles, which can be summed up with not one word, but three letters: DTF

Incase you’re not amongst the hip Showtime viewer demographic, the acronym DTF means down to fuck and is tossed about all too casually by Californication’s Hank Moody and his chunky, bald sidekick/agent, Charlie Runkle, whose only true objectives in life are: a) to make money and b) to get their rocks off—not that there’s anything wrong with either of those objectives, but I think the point of David Duchovny’s character is that he’s supposed to be a pathetic caricature of the Los Angeles male, not an idol. 

There is something wrong with society when a man’s primary concern is whether a woman is DTF.  She’s totally DTF. Is she DTF? Those two girls—DTF? 

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3 Reasons Women Should Initiate Sex

I hear a lot of women in long term relationships talk about how infrequently they have sex with their man. Sometimes it’s just once a week, sometimes its only once or twice a month. And inevitably it’s the man that initiates sex. Okay, I know you’re tired, I know you’re working your butt off having a career, keeping the house together, and caring for children or pets or what have you. But, if you do not have sex with your man regularly, his mind is going to wander, and eventually his body might too. 

Here are three reasons a woman should initiate sex with her man: 

REASON #1: It will make you feel empowered and you won’t view sex as an obligation or chore. You will view it as something playful, sexy and fun. Especially, if you set the mood with candles, music and sexy lingerie. And you might just start looking forward to sex again! 

REASON #2: It will make your man feel sexy and wanted. If you make him feel special, he will perform better, he'll be in a better mood, and you'll get along better. He may even go out of his way to show you how much he appreciates you.

REASON #3:  The more you keep your man satisfied, the less likely he is to wander. He may still look at other women and think about them, but he’s a lot less likely to act on his thoughts if you keep him feeling desired. He won’t feel a need to go elsewhere to get his ego—or other things—stroked.

Check out my video to hear more of what I think on this subject, and remember: a happy man makes for a happy woman! 


F*ck the F*ck Buddy

I read an article a while back on Dirty In Public, about fuck buddies. The girl was in fuck buddy hell and wished she could have a life do-over and return him to friend status. I know the feeling.

Several years ago I made the mistake of having sex with a good friend of mine. Why? I dunno. I knew he wanted me, and I used to kind of get off on giving a guy something he didn't deserve namely my body. Somehow I viewed this as a power thing. In retrospect, it was the opposite and is no longer a practice to which I subscribe.

Needless to say, once we fucked well, actually it was a lot less than fucking, more of a disappointing (to me) hand job (for him) our relationship was awkward. Whenever we saw each other after that he was seriously DTF and I was seriously not interested. Let s just say I had taken the Ferrari around the block and was unimpressed by the throttle and the run flat tires. I had to sever ties with my friend, because he was pretty much only interested in being my fuck buddy, and I was pretty much only interested in NOT being his fuck buddy.

Years went by. I never called him. He never called me. It was over. Whew. But, I had lost a good friend or so I had thought a good friend. If he truly was a good friend he would have put his shattered male ego aside and his penis back in his pants and dialed it back to friend status right away. Recently, said friend reappeared in my life and now I am faced with keeping him at arms length again, because I get the distinct feeling that he is still DTF. And I am still not.

Marrie from Dirty In Public asks the question, Can a fuck buddy be demoted to just buddy? I say no. At least not without a long term break in the relationship. I am still constantly watching my back with this friend turned almost fuck buddy turned not friend turned friend again 7 years later.

I had a lot of fuck buddies back then, or at least that's what I thought they were. I know now they were just horny guys looking to get their rocks off and I was an easy, low self-esteem target. I say fuck the fuck buddy. It never works out, and the woman ultimately feels taken advantage of unless of course, the fuck buddy is buying her dinner, taking her to the movies and treating her like a girlfriend, in which case he really isn't a fuck buddy then, is he?