EXPERT DATING ADVICE...FROM A NOT SO EXPERT

This is it. Hands up or down the best advice you'll ever hear. Write it on every bathroom wall right now. In fact, tattoo it on of your ass or even the inside  your eyelids:

People always wonder about the true meaning of life. I know the answer. The meaning of life for men is to deprive women's lives from having any meaning. That way neither gender has a meaning and we both live and die miserable and pointless lives.

Case in point...Week ago I went out on a date.  I simply chalk that up to me shooting myself in the groin area. The guy was totally sexy. He was dressed well. Have you ever been on a date and gone home with a doggy bag and a moral hangover? Have you ever gone on a date to dinner and had anything exciting happen besides the traditional ten second orgasm? Hell no. I have never gone on a date and left with a new car or a pay raise or new toy of any kind. Zero. Ever. Guys are a waste of time. Well maybe not all. But lets put it this way this was not going home to meet mom and dad. Plus I can't stand it when my date looks prettier than me. I like them roughed. Rough and tumble ok.

Some guys don't even grant you the thirty seconds of pleasure that you worked so hard to achieve. You go on a date and stare at him all night wishing he'd shut up. Guys should wake up and realize that we women don't always want to talk  or listen. And how much we don't care about the orgasim on wheels he's drooling after at the local car dealership. Why do they think we take time to dress up to go to dinner? It's because their silence while chewing is worth an $380 check. You throw a steak in front of him and hope he'll pause to eat it which will allow our brain time to forget all the garbage he just spewed out at us, but he keeps yaking. How do they do that? The male mouth is an amazing organ. It's probably the most tenacious thing on the planet. You could cut out his tongue, stick a ball gag down his throat, slice his vocal chords to little pieces, and he'd still sit there yaking away like a little dog.Yak yak yak. What the hell do I care about fucking baseball or hockey for that matter? I'll tell you the only thing I care about in that conversation is how to meet one of those guys to have dinner with, as oppose to the moron who sits across from me yaking about baseball players extrodinary ridiclously inflated earnings. But that's just how I roll!

I know, I know back in the day, women couldn't yak unless men allowed them to. Times have changed.  Now we women come off as assholes, but sometimes we too just want some silence. Today  men being the rebellious brutes all over the world are forming groups of meninists who created conspiracy theories about women being nagging control freaks and wanting power. Hell no, we just want you to shut the fuck up for  60 minutes and fuck us. That's it. You can have the power, just give us the dick when we want it. And none of that "whos your daddy shit." I know who my daddy is and he looks nothing like you. Just ask my mother.

Girls know how it works. We've known for a long time. Guys, this is my dating advice for you. I made it into poem format because that might rub on smoother:

Women have power,

men have penis.

If  men want power,

trade for it with penis.

(Notice how I rhymed power with power and penis with penis? That's not because I'm a bad poet, it's because men need to be told at least twice before they have any chance of understanding something.)

Men want both power and purity. These days, it's not uncommon for a penis to be class president. Back in the day, if a girl wanted to get high up in the system, she had to put out like a pornstar. A female campaigning back then would consist of a girl crouched on her knees in the hall, smiling like the Holland Tunnel with cum dribbling out her lips and mumbling, "Vote for me."

Well guess what gentlemen times have changed. If a woman wants you on your knees for any reason all she has to do is snap a finger. And...

Anyway, back to the prude guy scenario. You get through the date and a wave of disgust washes over you as you come to realize that he wants you to put out. You hide it (because there's always a chance you can become sick immediately after a meal), kiss him on the cheek, and leave. When you get home, you sit on your bed, shake your head, and think, "Wow, what the hell happened to my night? I'm cold, lonely, sober, and all I have to show for it is a cum stain on my pants from dry humping that his leg all night long." You vow to never waste time on a guy ever again. Needless to say, the next day you're calling. Hahahahahahaha

PERFECTION!

  I do believe I've found the secret to a perfect relationship – have four lovers! Fabulous!

Now I’ve been thinking (which could be viewed as a dangerous thing) sharing my life with one other man is too much for me to cope with. When my boyfriend of four glorious months dumped me I figured it all out.

So last night just as I was about drift off to la-la-land, I climbed under the duvet with my eyes wide open I began dreaming. Dreaming that I had four - yes, four - of my dream lovers in bed with me.

Why be alone? Why settle for being with one man? I am no longer interested in being a one-man woman...far from it. My complex love life has somehow been mind-boggling tangle of complicated bullshit with men. Hey: "Guess what? The best part about the deal is I don't have deal with them one at a time. They can hash it out amongst themselves. I'll just deflower a lot of guys." As if. I heard real men like dirty girls in bed, so I'm going practice being a real dirty. To hell with charm school. Little did my mother know she was wasting my father’s hard earned money, because all I learnt in charm school was how to charm men out of their underpants and straight into my bed. So today it goes something to this effect...

"Baby I find that the more I love, the greater my capacity to extend love. When I care for someone, I want my lover to share me with someone else to show how open-minded couple we are. And what a loving trusting relationship we have. Because you realize it's unnatural to expect one woman to be able to give you everything your heart needs."

And share I do. Currently I'm seeing seven people at the same time. Tiring? Stressful? Not as far as I'm concerned. Why devote my time with one guy when I can have seven. Wait wait wait...It's eight because I think messing with your Ex counts. So that number has just jumped to eight. Besides why have a boyfriend when I can do as many as I want including my Ex. Think about it. No don't it's a messed up thing.

It was just the other day when I spotted a gorgeous stranger walking down the street. I just knew I had to be with that person. (After all I've been single for a few months since splitting with my former, my ego is slightly bruised) so I nervously stopped my car and introduced myself and then said: Can I give you a drive? Get in. He jumped in. He shook my hand, bat his eyelashes, ran his hand through is hair. I could tell he was one of those touchy-feely types. After the pleasantries I cut –to - the - chase “Hey yah wanna fuck?” I have a few minutes before I write my exam…. He was way too hot and I didn't want to forsake the other seven in my harem, so I took a pass. Next time it won't be so...

It's an unusual set-up, but one which works for all concerned. I know it seems strange to most people, but I don't believe monogamous relationships are natural. Why love one guy or girl and get your heart ripped out of it's packaging? Why.

Maybe this is will provide a fascinating insight into the extraordinary world of, the practice of being in more than one intimate relationship at a time with full consent on all sides. Unlike polygamy - which refers to multiple marriages, and usually involves several wives sharing one man. For the record I’m not marrying anyone.

So you might be reading this, and thinking the situation may seem like a potential breeding ground for resentment and jealousy. But I’m talking about cerebral, attractive, classy, hot horny horny men. [Roll eyes]I insist there is no rivalry. None whatsoever.

No one believes me when I say arguments never crop up, but they don't. If anyone felt jealous, we'd talk it through. I have one rule: NO fighting. If someone feels left out, they must say so. That way we can change things."

Love is one woman, four men and a bed built for five .A one-to-one relationship wouldn't work for me. At least not anymore. This arrangement makes me happy. Sex with a man is like a big showy thunderstorm. But these days sex with myself is like an ocean - there's a depth and subtlety that doesn't exist with anyone else." I can't imagine life any other way.

FAITH LEAPED...

When to temple today. Pretty uneventful. Met some very kool people I actually liked. So next week I 'm invited out to their stables to ride one of their horse, break some bread ,and wash it down with some wine... mmmm yummy I can't wait. I hope my helmet arrives this week.

Reconnected with an old Gal-Pal. I read her the riot act.I think I may have fucked here ears  for two hours but lets face it I had a lot I needed her to know. I had a lot of questions for her.  Plus I mainly called to say: "How fucking dare you forget about me" but when I heard her voice I actually felt relieved. Relieved that I didn't have to send out the tracking dogs to find her AGAIN. For the most part she's fairly stable in all facets of her life except she enjoys moving without a forwarding address. She's done it twice in past 10 years and I hate not knowing. I liken it to when people ask ..."You didn't see that coming?" Well no Baby Einstein - if I did I would have gotten out of the way dumbass. Seriously she can pack up and without warning poof  be gone. I guess it proofs that we are social primates and we need each other no what we might think do and or say. In totality it turned out to be quite an credible conversation. 
I'm too tired I will expound on this later....