Where Have All the Fuckboys Gone?

What happens to fuckboys during a lockdown?

Quarantine and chill? Better not with a fuckboy. 

First of all, one must sing, “where have all the fuckboys gone” as if they’re singing, “where have all the cowboys gone,” to make any of this work. I assumed you all knew this, but I needed to state the obvious, just in case. 

Let us explore…

I don’t know about you all, but I am curious. What happened to the fuck boys since ‘social distancing’ has become the scenerio of our day to day lives? 

In case anyone needs a refresher, a fuckboy is defined as someone who goes around making sure he gets whatever he wants aka his dick wet, usually at the expense of others, often by lying and manipulating (aka telling people what they want to hear). 

Fuckboys may act like they’re really into you only to ghost you for months than somehow return from the dead in order to get their dicks wet again with claims of having ‘been busy,’ which is just code for them fucking other people in a similar fashion. 

They come in all shapes and sizes, all ages, political and social demographics, they may even claim to be spiritual or ‘woke,’ but that’s just another ploy to help them get laid. (I’ll go into the “woke” fuckboy dilemma another time as it’s an issue all unto itself.) 

Back in the 1970s, some unwoke white dude politician said that when it came to defining porn, ‘you know it when you see it.’ Well, the truth is, the same can be said for fuckboys. (You might not know it right away, because fuckboys are great at what they do, but it does become quite clear within one day’s time.) 

There are actually lots of different definitions of a fuckboy, here are 27 hilarious ones from Thought Catalogue.   

So, where have the fuck boys gone? Could this possibly be a case of them all disappearing because they finally realized the world doesn’t want or need them anymore? Could we be so lucky?

Doubtful. 

I know that there may be some fuckboys reading this thinking, what? Why does no one want a fuckboy? Why do we exist if no one wants us? I mean, the same could be said for herpes or mosquitos or those orange candy peanuts. Just because something exists doesn’t mean it’s good or good for you. 

No one wants a fuckboy because they are horrible creatures. 

Let’s be clear, this is not to say that people do not want casual sex. There are plenty of people who do. Two people can openly and honestly agree that they only want something casual, that does not make a fuckboy, that makes two people communicating and agreeing upon the same thing.

But, there are also a lot of people who do not want casual sex and a fuckboy will pretend that he wants something meaningful too, a connection too, a relationship too, until he gets his dick wet and quickly bounces to the next conquest. 

In other words.

Fuckboys are slim. 

Fuckboys fucking suck.

At least during this quarantine you can spot a fuckboy way quicker, way easier. You know because if you match with a fuckboy on an online dating app, they will try to meet you THAT VERY DAY. They give little fucks about social distancing or lockdown etc. they only care about their immediate needs. Some fuckboys will even slide into your DMs and try to get you to meet up with them that way.

They’re losing steam. They’re running out of options.

Will they die if they can’t stick their dicks in something? Maybe? We can all pray that they do — at least that they lose that selfish part of themselves and turn from fuckboys into humans. 

I am uncertain of where all the fuckboys have gone.

Some are definitely still out there trying to get inside stuff. My suggestion: do not let them in. Let them wither away. Let them suffocate. Or if you’re friendlier than me, let them ride off into their last sunset like retired cowboys fading into the night.  

Direct advice to fuckboys:

Fuckboys turn to ghosts and stay fucking dead, you ain’t Jesus, no one needs your second coming (your first was not OMG worthy either). Fuckboys, bye.

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Death: The One Thing We’re All Avoiding

Let’s Talk About Death, Baby

Death and the Corona Virus

The fact of the matter is that we’re all in quarantine as a way to avoid death, our own death or the death of someone we love. 

And for good measure. 

This corona virus ain’t playing. 

According to a May 5 2020 post on Aljazeera:

“The death toll in the United States continues to surge with 70,847 deaths and 1,201,337 cases. The US continues to lead worldwide cases and deaths from the virus.”

Not only has Covid-19 killed a bunch of people, it has completely destroyed the economy and the livelihoods of people all over the world. Everyone is stuck at home, waiting. Waiting to not die. Not yet anyway. 

This pandemic has brought to the surface our biggest fears and uncertainties about the future.

But one thing is true regardless, we’re all going to die. 

Yikes. 

Or maybe better yet, Yay?

What I’ve noticed, observing from my basement dwelling quarantine, is that no one is straight up talking about death, what it means to die, how to accept our own end. 

We’re all busy baking bread or drinking margaritas or trying to get through to the unemployment office or working an essential job where any one person could come in and bring the entire place to its knees; where at any moment our coworkers or loved ones or lovers or friends could die. We could be dead too.  

Let’s be clear– this has always been true — yet it’s right here in our faces, our faces covered by masks. 

Pema Chodron aks:

“Can we abide in the openness that presents itself when the bottom falls out of our dream?”

Can we move forward when everything in our daily existence gets uprooted, changes, becomes something we never even imagined before? Can we accept the idea that it may cease to move forward at all? 

Facing Death

Why is there so much fear around death? 

Why are people afraid to talk about it?

What would happen if you took a moment and turned to face it instead of avoiding the very idea it? 

What would it look like? Feel like? Could you get past your sadness? Your grief? Your anger? Could you get to a place of acceptance? 

I saw this image the other day of a baby connected to her mother’s umbilical cord right next to an image of a human connected to the umbilical cord of the spirit world. 

How fascinating to imagine that we’re all just babies, earth, our mother, death a passage into the vast universe. 

But where will you go? Who will you be? Will you ever exist again? What will happen to your family? Your friends? Will it matter if you are no longer here to think about it? 

If you’re dead you no longer have to worry. At least that’s a bonus. 

Death and God

Of course, I don’t want to die, not yet anyway. I have accepted that it will happen at some point. And I am okay with it for the most part on most days. Everyone has their own belief system, they’re own connection or disconnection with God, the Universe, the Source, whatever you like to call it. 

I’m a big Alan Watts fan, I read The Taboo Against Knowing Yourself right before this whole pandemic started. I like the idea that we’re all manifestations of God. We’re all fragments, pieces of God experiencing God. A big interconnected Kaleidoscope of life ever unfolding; our eyes are the eyes of God watching the world from a very specific perspective.

Or as Watts says: 

“God is the Self of the world, but you can’t see God for the same reason that, without a mirror, you can’t see your own eyes, and you certainly can’t bite your own teeth or look inside your head. Your self is that cleverly hidden because it is God hiding.” 

So, I suppose I am less worried about my own personal death, knowing that we’re all interconnected elements of God and we shall continue onward regardless of our own specific conscious experiences.

I don’t know, sometimes I hurt my own brain thinking about all of this stuff. I guess I’m just curious if anyone else has been contemplating death, because it seems like most people are doing everything but. But, perhaps it’s one of those Taboos we’re not supposed to talk about. What do you think?  

Before you die you might as well buy yourself a nice toy and have an orgasm or too (I believe an orgasm is also considered a tiny death… or is that a sneeze? Who can keep up? )

Anyway. There’s unbelievable products for men, women, couples etc. And now, FREE SHIPPING at Lelo (and if you buy something with this link I get a little % kicked back to me, so thank you for getting off!)

 

Do We Really Want To Go Back to Normal?

Perhaps it’s time to envision a new way of being.

It’s pretty clear that the corona virus is changing the way that we exist on this planet. None of us having any idea how it is all going to unfold. Will medical professionals find a way to contain Covid-19? Even so, what happens when another virus pops up in its place? Is the economy going to tank? Will millions of lives be sacrificed to save it?

These are all things we’re about to find out.

While all of this is going down and we’re all quarantined in our selected locations, many of us jobless, many of us feeling very much non-essential right now, I encourage everyone to take an hour or however long and dive into your dreams. I’m not talking about the stories that play out in your subconscious when you’re asleep. I’m talking about what you dream about for your life.

If you could somehow reinvent how the world works, what would it look like?

Using your wildest imagination as we can only imagine as much as we know, what could humanity actually be?

Is it possible to live in a society that values people over profits?

What would a world without money look like?

Could a world exist where we valued giving, sharing, trading, more so than the dollar?

Is it possible to have gifts, to be creative, to encompass amazing personality characteristics without them being comodified? Without having to turn everything into a product or a brand?

What could a world without money do?

Our planet, our people need healed.

How does that work?

When someone gets sick should they get access to health care like any other person who gets sick?

When anyone rich or poor can catch viruses that kill, that can kill hundreds, thousands, millions of other people, shouldn’t we have systems in place to handle said situations?

Are you really THAT comfortable that you want to go back to how things were?

Was your life really THAT great? What deep down did you want out of life?

You say you just want a decent job and loving family… well WHY do you want a job? Is it for money? So you can provide for your loving family? Is it so you can buy all the things that you need to survive?

What if you already had all of those things?

Would you want a job so you felt like you had a ‘purpose’?

Why do you feel like you need a purpose to live?

And could you work, could you do the things that you loved doing, things that gave you ‘purpose’ if that’s what you truly needed without it being connected to income? Could you work on a farm or on a painting or mowing your neighbor’s lawn just because you enjoy the work and because it helps connect you to other people?

How attached are we to money that we need to go back to normal?

What if instead we created a new normal? A better normal? A normal where everyone thrived?

What would that look like to you?

Are you willing to get out of your comfort zone to get there?

If you’re not willing are you at least ready?

If life will never go back to normal then we need to start imagining a new world that aligns with what we want not what people with all the money think we need.

In the meantime, if you’re all alone might as well go F yourself. Here’s a coupon. XOXO

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Go Eat A Carrot: Year in Review

go eat a carrot

Happy One Year Anniversary to Go Eat A Carrot

Almost exactly a year ago, on Easter Sunday to be exact, Go Eat A Carrot was born. I had gone on this fabulous rom-com date with a pretty decent dude, where he bought me a very large carrot as a Sin Day Sunday gift.

Later that night I had eaten an edible and instead of putting me to sleep it put me in this weird manic-y state of mind where I stayed up through the evening and came to the conclusion that I needed to start a blog. A blog about the truth, and sex and love and politics and food, but mostly about the truth and mostly about the sex truth. A blog where I told people to “go eat a carrot,” which of course is a triple entendre– my favorite kind of entendre.

It’s been a real fucking crazy year. It has been probably the craziest year of my life. I’m happy to still be alive (most of the time). It’s unclear at this point what’s going to happen with this blog. I said I’d write it for a year and I did. There were times I veered away from the truth because my audience was more concerned with the sex. I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to get back to the root of what this was–which was a way for me to express the bullshit and the beauty going on in my life and to connect with people over topics that we all enjoy exploring.

Anyway, it’s pretty interesting to realize that Easter comes from the Ishtar, the Assyrian and Babylonian goddess of fertility and sex. No wonder I had the idea for a sex blog on Easter. It’s my way of celebrating life. I create these little babies for you all, blog babies.

It’s been a struggle and a learning curve. I’ve had quite a time in this puritanical land talking about sex, even if I’m doing it from a sex positive perspective, on social media sites. I’ve also dealt with A LOT of really dumb DM messages, yet at the same time I’ve talked to some really amazing new people and I couldn’t be more thankful for that.

Here are some stats and some learnings from the first year of Go Eat a Carrot and some stats from my sex life during that time.

Go Eat A Carrot 2018-2019 Details:

  • Blogs: 79
  • Videos: 113
  • Pics: A billion
  • Instagram Followers: 3,393
  • Instagram Accounts Deleted: 2 (after 3K+ followers, rebuilt entire page, added a private page, which got deleted too.)
  • Instagram Accounts Still In Tact: 3
  • Subscribers on Youtube: 494
  • Strikes on Youtube: 2
  • Top Video: Hot Burning Man Sex (42.8K views)
  • Patreon Posts: 581 (deleted several after strike)
  • Strikes on Patreon: 1
  • Peak Patreon Patrons: 15
  • Current Patreon Patrons: 6

Sex/Dating Life Since:

  • One (to 2) night stands: 11
  • Friends with benefits: 5
  • Playthings: 3
  • Boyfriends/lovers: 1
  • Sociopaths: 1

Sex Highlights:

The night the Nun made a sex tape, the former-NBA player experience, the men capable of giving me multiple orgasms–thank you. Financial domination, monster porn, tentacle porn. Quick mental connections that end in friendships that actually last. Old friends returning to the story. Figuring out my patterns and ending them.

Sex Lowlights: The men who couldn’t, wouldn’t get me off. Dog porn. The toy with the app that failed to work. The guy who didn’t share his food the next morning, fuck that guy. The manboys who went back with their exes (yes, there were more than one). The Sociopath, enough said.

Happy Rabbit

The Hard (and soft) Lessons I’ve Learned:

Yes, I fell in love with a sociopath. I don’t talk about it much, mostly because it’s clear this guy is still stalking me and I don’t really want to add more fuel to the fire, but it was quite an ordeal that I’m still working through. For months I was furious. Not only angry at him but angry at myself.

The thing is, I’m working on forgiveness. Not because that’s what Jesus would do, but because it’s the only way I am going to be able to move on with my life. I can’t be mad at a monster for acting like a monster. I can’t be mad at myself for falling for a monster, because the truth of the matter there’s a little bit of monster in all of us.

Yes, I was drawn to the danger, the mystery, the excitement. Yes, I enjoyed the drama… until it went too far. I learned so much about myself from the experience though. I learned that I am stronger than I thought. I learned that I would rather be alive than walk around dead all the time. I learned what I definitely do not want in my relationships and I learned how to run away from red flags the moment they start waving their redness in front of me.

I also have learned what I do want. Stability, strength, simplicity. A balance of masculinity and femininity. Honesty. Truth. Fragility. Vulnerability. I want to be held with kindness, care, concern. I want to receive as much as I give– and I am quite a giver.

I’m not playing games anymore. Save the drama for your mama or anyone else that isn’t me because, nah. I’m done with that bullshit.

If people can’t handle it, if they can’t handle me, or they don’t want to put in the work, then guess what? They can just go eat a carrot.

That whole thing has been really fucking hard. It ripped me apart. It dragged me under and I started to drown. Everything else this past year has been minuscule in comparison; the men who left me for their exes, the ghosts, the guy with the girlfriend, the one nights stands that left me bored and unsatisfied, the time-wasters and super-pervs– nothing has come close to that pain and that torment. It’s my goal to make sure it never does again. Mindfuck me once, that’s all I need to never get mindfucked again.

Sure, I danced with the devil, but I knew he was the devil the entire time. The thing is, he wasn’t that good of a dancer and so I’ll just keep dancing on my own. No one can step on my feet that way.

Thanks for all the support for this past year–whether you’re a regular reader, a friend, a regular friend reader, I have appreciated you being there.

If you’d like to show your support for Go Eat A Carrot financially–which would be quite helpful indeed, become a Patron on Patreon, buy me something from my Amazon Wishlist, or buy yourself something nice from one of my affiliate sites:

Tantus

We-Vibe

Lelo

Woo for Play

Thanks again! Don’t forget to eat your carrots. Nom Nom Nom.

Birthday Reflections: Getting Around

on aging

It is My Birthday.

I Am Still Here.

Today is my birthday and I am happy to be alive. I haven’t always been happy to be alive, particularly on my birthday.

In fact, the last two birthdays I was super depressed and dreaded the fact that my birthday existed at all. I did a lot of crying out of a sort of pain and emptiness.

But, I’ve been working on filling myself back up; today I cried for a moment too, not out of pain but because of all the beauty in this world.

As I reflect back on my 34 years on this planet I am in awe that I have made it this far.

And more than awe I am in a deep state of gratitude for all that I have and all that I’ve shared with so many amazing people on this planet.

I recently matched with this Dude-Bro-PUA(pick-up artist)-Troll on Tinder who ended up calling me all sorts of hateful names when I called him out on his behavior. One name he called me was “old,” which is funny on all sorts of levels. One, he was like 2 years younger than me. Two, I’m only 34. People live to like over a hundred these days. 34 is nothing in the grand scheme of what we experience as time.

Of course, because my birthday was coming up, that particular adjective stuck with me more than the others. There is truth in it too. There is a bit of pain in it as well. Yes, I am old. I am older than I was yesterday even. Yet, if I wasn’t this old I may not be as wise as my former self who would have probably hate-fucked that guy just to “teach him a lesson.”

Yeah, no, I am all of my former selves and also none of them.

I believe it was Sandra Cisneros who wrote in House of Mango Street (though I could be wrong because I couldn’t find it), “When you turn five you are also still four and three and two and one.”

Something like that.

I feel like we often don’t look at it that way. For example, I may be 34 but there could be times when the five-year-old me comes out or the 21 year old etc etc.

Because we are a collection of our experiences and yet we are also not. They shape us but they do not make us. We make ourselves. There is a core to us all, an essence if you will. A lot of our experiences shade that essence and then we try to hide the core of who we are to avoid pain. Yet, that avoidance is pain. The pain is still there. The hiding, the mask, causes more suffering than the pain. Better to just face the pain and return to the lightness of your being–if you will.

There is also pain in the realization that each moment we live we are one breath closer to death. Yet, this is only for people who subscribe to the linear version of time. All of those moments of my life and your life still exist somewhere in time. Death is just another unfolding of our experience on earth. The earth will continue on and so will the essence of who we are.

Maybe.

Who knows for certain.

In any event, my life so far has been filled with some of the most amazing people on this planet and if you’re reading this you are probably one of them, so thank you for being you. Even if I don’t like you, thank you because it’s just a reflection of something I don’t like about myself — and all I can do is grow from that discomfort.

So yeah, I’m old.

Fuck yes. It feels good to get old. To have all of this time to explore myself and the world around me. To have breakdowns and breakups; moments of pure joy and connectivity, moments of weakness, anger, fear, to feel a sense of peace, to know it will all work out even when it’s not working out, to feel a part of the universal unfolding and not separate from it or competing with it. Plus, to have all this gratitude and love and sex and good beer and everything and nothing.

Cheers to being old.

See my in my original outfit aka my Birthday Suit AND hear my Birthday Suit song when you become a patron on PatreonLowest tier is just $1. Don’t you want to give a girl a $1 for her birthday?!

Enneagrams, Russian Doll, and Killing Yourself

killing the self

A Mental Health Update

Yesterday I went to a therapist for the first time in my entire life.

I’ve been overcoming depression on and off for about twenty years give or take. It’s not that I’ve ever necessarily been afraid to go to therapy. I tell strangers my problems all the time over the internet. I’ve always thought that I could work through everything myself, I thought I was strong enough, that comparatively my problems were nothing.

Well, a few things happened all at once to finally get me to make the call. First, I ended yet another toxic relationship. Then, I went to Planned Parenthood after the end of this toxic relationship and discovered my pH balance in my vagina was off. Shock shock. Not a big deal. This happens to women all the time, we just tend to keep it to ourselves. They put me on antibiotics and thus for the last week I have not been drinking. I’ve instead been filling my time with a lot of reading and a lot of Netflixing.

Broad City Collection

One of the many books I’ve been plowing through is a book about Understanding the Enneagrams. At first, I thought this whole thing was going to be bullshit but bullshit can be entertaining. Initially, I was drawn to it from a writer’s perspective to better understand the motivations behind different people’s actions and reactions. Enneagrams divide people into 9 different personality types that continue to get more complicated and nuanced as you learn more.

As I was reading it I found that people I know fit within certain numbers perfectly. Like the guy I fell for most recently was an unhealthy 3; no self-worth thus manipulates and deceits people until he brings them down to his level. I found myself too. I’m an 8. The Challenger. The Challenger rises from a loss of innocence that can then manifest itself in lustful ways.

Fast forward.

I’m binge-watching Russian Doll on Netflix. I love Natasha Lyonne and Chloe Sevigny. I stick with it even though it starts off as this Groundhog’s Day-esque format of which makes me go mad. Yet, I put my anxiety on hold.

There was something quite powerful with this show even though the repetition of repeating the same day can make a person crazy, which is exactly the point, right? You keep getting thrown these same situations over and over because you’ve never solved the problem you were meant to solve.

The only difference is that our patterns come back with different masks, we don’t get a do-over. (I will not go down the rabbit hole of alternative dimensions today because that just gets complicated.)

Anyway, so we can see the main character repeating the same patterns within the same time frame of a day, day after day, but it’s just the same as us waking up day after different day and getting to try again.

At the end, she is finally confronted with her loss of innocence. She has no where else to go and must take the steps to overcome the pain of her past. She has to kill the part of herself that she no longer the needs. The part of herself that has been trying to protect her all of these years but has instead started to do the opposite. This is not a physical death. It is a letting go.  

Is this character an enneagram 8? Most def.  

Is this all just coincidentally unfolding right here right now for me? Nah. It’s time.

It’s time for me to take proactive steps to stop my pattern that are holding me back.  Sure, I’m strong, but I’m stronger now because I can admit that I can’t do everything on my own.

Depression and Why I Show My Boobs

woman crying depressed

I feel empty. I feel like I’m suffocating. I don’t know if I’m going to make it through this time. I’ve been depressed for so long it’s like a continual numbness. I’m tired.

I’ve become more distant from my close friends. Sometimes it feels like they don’t understand why I’m doing this. They think I’m doing something wrong by talking about sex and showing my boobs or whatever. Most people don’t like that I’m showing my boobs.

Well ‘most people’, they’re my boobs and I can show them if I want.

I don’t have to justify it, but here are some justifications anyway.

People are too uptight about the naked body and I’m rebelling against that.

It like to do it.

Other people enjoy looking at my boobs so why should I always keep them covered if I can give people who want to see them pleasure? Of course, this is America and we live in a capitalistic society so I’m not just going to give them away for free. I have to pay rent, people.

Speaking of rent. This is where I’m most upset with myself. I’m actually a really hard worker. I spent the past year writing a book and a satirical self-help video series and developing this blog while doing freelance marketing. The freelance has run dry and the other things are still incubating from an income-perspective. I have applied to jobs but my heart isn’t it in. My heart is here in these creative projects.

That’s the original reason why I started the Patreon account. It turns out that people only really care about seeing my boobs, which in a way is easier but not really because it would be nice if people wanted to see my boobs AND support my creative endeavors but I suppose we can’t always get everything we want huh?

Sidenote.

I’ve had a lot of people reach out to me on Instagram while I was writing this. I realize that we’re all a mess to some degree or another and you all are brave for getting up and getting out there. I really respect your strength and wish I had a bit more of it. Of course, tomorrow is another day and perhaps I’ll be a go-getting show-stopping money magnet then.

And I’ll be able to lift others who are feeling down. We’re like one big team here on planet Earth. Or maybe the suffocation will continue. Who knows?!

Feel free to check out my patreon for the boobs or whatever.

How to Take Action When You Fuck Up a Relationship

how to fix a relationship that you broke

Aka Get Off Your Phone and Get to Work

or

At Least Do Something if You Care At All

Most people don’t want to do the work that it takes to be in any kind of romantic relationship.

I mean, I get it, why have a deep connection with someone who cares about you, thinks you’re the whole world, would do anything for you (but not that), when you can just go out and have sex?

Oh wait.

Yeeaaahhh. Casual sex is fun and all but it’s got nothing on love.

L. O. V. E.

Wtf is that anyway?

There was that Chris Rock stand-up where he explained it pretty well. Aka “If you haven’t contemplated murder, you ain’t been in love.”

Now, perhaps that’s taking it too far, but I don’t know. It was in the moment after we had been fighting (well, after he kissed my roommate and tried to sleep with her when I was in the other room and then lied about it) when I walked through my kitchen, saw a knife sitting on the counter and paused for a second too long when I realized, “oh fuck, I might actually have fallen for that guy!”

Yet, then he really fucked it all up.

A series of texts transpired after which were full of apology etc. Now I’m a patient person. I can tolerate a lot of pain. I can even forgive a person for being a total and complete piece of shit, which is something I should maybe try unlearning. But here’s the thing. Actions must be taken.

If you fuck up a relationship by being a liar, a manipulator, a cheat etc. and you want that person back. Good fucking luck. You’re going to have to work your ass off. You’re going to have to make sacrifices to the goddesses. You’re going to have to quit being a lazy ass good-for-nothing mother fucker and do something.

This is the most important component that I think a lot of people who fuck up relationships miss.

You must shut your mouth, your words mean nothing at this point because your previous actions proved you otherwise untrustworthy.

You can no longer rely on a text apology. That’s not good enough. You must overcome your own ego and DO SOMETHING.

SOMETHING > NOTHING
ACTION > WORDS

This where things get confusing to a lot of people. They know that must take action but they have NO IDEA what kind of action to take.

Use your brains here. Get creative. The point is rebuilding. It’s like, not only did you tear your entire building down, but in the process, you created a major fucking hole too. Now you have to fill in the hole (and not with your dick…) AND build an entirely new building, that’s taller and shiner and all that shit.

Most people can’t do this. Either they didn’t really love that person that much or they’re lazy or both. We’re quite the throw-away society, not only do we have no respect for things anymore, now people are things and are thrown away all the same. We can do better. We can be more interesting than that.

If you’re struggling with figuring out some sort of action to take after you took some negative actions that made your relationship fail, don’t worry. I’ve made a list as a starting point to help you. Of course, this is mostly just stuff that I’d want, I don’t know who you fucked over or what they’re into, but perhaps this list can help spark your imagination and get you on that first step back into their good graces.

tantus cock rings
Make your carrot vibrate maybe?! Nah, prob something better than that.

Here Are 12 Ways to Do Something That Could At Least Help You Maybe One Day Get Back What You Fucked Up

1.
Say Anything style and stand outside their bedroom window blasting your song on a boombox (I’d suggest not the song he blasts because that song is kind of lame).

2.
Write “I’m sorry” in their yard using a bunch of burritos or bacon or whatever food they love.

3.
Write and mail them a love note every day. Every. Day.

4.
Try flowers, nothing says romance like something that is so beautiful it will die in three days.

5.
Try flowers again three days later because the other flowers are dead now and you don’t want them to think of your relationship that way.

6.
Bottle up your tears and then let the other person make a nice clean (or dirty) martini from them.

7.
Write and record them a song.

8.
Send them a heart-shaped pizza.

9.
Start seeing a therapist and work on yourself.

10.
Buy them everything they want on their Amazon Wish List (or mine is fine with me).

11.
Write them a poem or better yet, an entire book of poems.

12.
Or if you’re terrible at poetry, write a long long LONG list of everything you love about them.

Is this helping at all? Getting some ideas? Okay cool. Maybe now quit reading this and GO DO SOMETHING about whatever it is you did. You’re welcome (and good luck).

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Tits Out Truth Bombs Tuesday: Can A Relationship Be Repaired When Trust is Broken?

overcoming a betrayal in a relationship

Lies, Manipulation, and Love Built to Die

Or

There’s Good Reason Why So Many Of Us Have Built a Wall Around Ourselves

Recently I had my heart ripped out of my chest again. My best friend has told me on countless occasions that I trust people too easily. I know she is right, but I also have never been able to overcome this trait I have. Regardless of whether I’m making a new friend or developing a new romantic relationship, I always give people the benefit of the doubt. I trust them until they prove to otherwise be untrustworthy. This is not uncommon behavior, most of us do this. Why wouldn’t we do this? There has to be some faith in both the self and the other that the bonds that are being built are being built on solid honest ground.

And yet, it’s so interesting how quickly a good relationship can turn bad when that trust we hand over so easily shatters.

The question is, can it be repaired?

Of course, it can, we even can see examples in mainstream media every day, see Beyonce and Jay-Z, Hillary and Bill, etc.

The deeper question comes down to whether or not both parties involved really want to repair it.

Discover Fifty Shades Darker

When someone does something hurtful to someone else the person being hurt has to understand that this is not a reflection of who they are, but a question of who the other person doing the hurting is.

How good was the relationship prior to this pain? Are both of you willing to do the work to overcome it?

Of course, I can’t help but feel duped, humiliated, made to look stupid. The thought of going through those feelings again is enough to make me run far far away and never look back. It’s not that I can’t forgive him for his terrible behavior–I can. I’m questioning whether I can trust myself to give him another chance and risk going through all of those emotions again. I’m not a big fan of those emotions, who is? I think of what my friends would do, would say to me. I think of what I’d say to my friends if something similar happened to them and I know I’d tell them to tell the guy to “fuck off,” (which I actually did do, quite loudly at 5 am in the morning but that’s a digression).

I think of the future. I think, what if I forgive this guy and he does it again? Not only would I be mad at myself but I’d be embarrassed, ashamed for being so easily manipulated.

I don’t understand liars. I’ve always been way too honest, to a fault even. My lack of a filter has gotten me in trouble many many times, yet I prefer it to living any other way. Sometimes I forget how other people don’t do this. How other people so often lie to get what they want.

That’s the other thing that confuses me. Why lie to get what you want? And what benefit does it serve to lie to the person you like romantically? If you’re so comfortable with that that you’re no longer interested in being with them, why not just break it off? If you’re so bored that you want to be with someone else after a month why not just say “girl, bye?” If you want to do whatever you want and get away with it, why be in a relationship at all?

The thing is you can’t do whatever you want when you’re in relationships with other people. Not if you care about them anyway. Sometimes you have to suck it up and do the thing you don’t really want to do, whether it’s going to their company’s BBQ even though you hate all their coworkers, making breakfast even though you’re both dying of a hangover, or you know, not hitting on their roommate even if the roommate is so damn cool and fine. It’s called basic human decency. Relationships require that as a bare minimum.

So yeah, here I am, in kind of a conundrum.

There were so many good things happening and I miss that, I miss him, I miss us. Yet, I can’t be with a liar. I can’t be with someone who does whatever he wants with no regard for the other person. If he can prove that that is not who he is at his core (or his surface even). If he could actually do the work, show real remorse and take positive action to repair all this then maybe.

Yet, then again, maybe I’m too easy and need to learn how to be a bit “more hard”.

Tits Out Truth Bombs Tuesday: What’s the Link Between Sex and Violence?

sex, violence, marriage, testosterone, social media, mob violence, criminal behavior

The Correlation Between Sex and Violence

or

Why Are Men So Mean Sometimes?

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Over the past few days my manfriend and I have been binge-watching Hannibal (on amazon prime). It’s an incredibly violent television show as you may imagine since it’s based off of the books Red Dragon and Hannibal by Thomas Harris. A psychological thriller with death everywhere. So much death that in the 13+ episodes we’ve made it through there’s only been one romantic moment — a kiss — and no sex whatsoever. In any event, my friend and I got into a discussion about the correlation between violence and sex. He claimed that they were “the same thing” whereas I begged to differ.

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Since that time I’ve been doing some research and I’ve come across some very interesting articles on this very subject. It turns out there’s a pretty big correlation between the two, though it is not quite right to say they are “the same thing.”

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Here are six interesting facts (theories and research developments) I’ve come across during my internet dive into this fascinating topic of sex and violence.

1. On Female Sexual Liberation

In the Psychology Today article, Why Sex and Violence Go Together, the author writes:

“young males are at the highest risk of criminal offending, and violent crime is more common in societies where female sexuality is more liberated.”

This has to do with competition for sex. From my understanding of this article, when there is a likelihood of getting some, many men will get violent in order to get it. They commit criminal acts often as a way to prove that they are stronger, more “manly” than others. Many of the crimes committed in this research were deemed “trivial altercations.” They act out to “save face,” because they believe that women don’t like to date “losers.”

Could it be possible that this rise in female sexual empowerment is causing men to revert back to baser more animalistic behavior? Or is this just another man blaming women for men’s actions instead of owning the fact that men choose to behave in these ways? And yes, I use the word “choose,” because there has to be accountability for these acts of anger and aggression or why have a higher more developed consciousness at all?

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2. Sex, Marriage, and Violence

From the same article:

When men get married their testosterone level drops and so to do incidents of their violent behavior. Also interestingly enough:

“When men divorce, and begin dating again, their testosterone level rises compared to men remaining married.”

And thus, the divorced men become more aggressive and violent.

Does the testosterone level drop in marriage because they have secured a partner and can relax? Or does it drop because of their closer proximity to estrogen? Perhaps a mixture of both? It’s apparent that it rises again after divorce due to the fact that they have to go back out in the field and compete for a mate. Is the aggression because of the testosterone or because they’re angry about their divorce… or both?

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3. Sex, Violence and Video Games

A study revealed that women are actually more affected sexually by video games than men. At first the article made it seem like the woman were aroused by the violent video games themselves but after a closer reading it seems like the games actually give women a confidence boost and make them think they are a “better catch,” than the women in the study who did not play the games. You can read all about it in the Bustle article, Violence Makes You Feel Sexy.

4. Social Media, Sex, and Violence

In the same Bustle article researchers found that people who tweet are actually more aroused than those who don’t.

“A 2011 survey by OKCupid found that their tweeting members masturbated more. Apparently those who tweeted twice a day or more also masturbated twice as much as those who didn’t try to get all witty with only 140 characters.”

How is this related to violence? The article didn’t claim that it was, but I’m curious if people are getting angry at everything happening in the world and then choosing to turn the Twitter off and watch some porn instead to release some of that pent up aggression.

5. Your Brain on Sex and Violence

From Psychology Today:

“Both aggression and sex are controlled by neurons in the same part of the brain–the hypothalamic attack region. When researchers stimulate these neurons with electrodes in the brains of mice, the animals instantly engage in violence or in mating, depending on how strongly the neurons are stimulated.”

According to the article, researchers were able to control the intensity of stimulation of these neurons and thus were able to switch the animals behavior between mating and fighting depending on the level of intensity.

This is pretty nuts when you think about how close to proximity they are and how easy one can turn into the other. Is there a way to control this outside of a lab? Will there ever be a way? If so, could this actually help ease violence in humans if we took away the ability to over-stimulate these neurons? I do not know, I am not a scientist, but it is interesting to consider.

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6. Violence and Sex in Crowds

According to the same article from Psychology Today:

“ The chaos of large crowds increase the risk of sexual assault on women….”

The over-stimulation of the senses and the heightened stress of being at places like concerts, subways, mass celebrations, etc. triggers mob violence.

“Mob behavior is driven by the strong herding instinct of people to do as they see others do when there is no central authority in control. At the opposite extreme, this same powerful herding instinct can cause bystander apathy in which no one in a crowd comes to the aid of a person in need.”

The article goes on to list way too many examples of women being sexually assaulted and raped at these overpopulated events. I often thought there were always less women at concerts etc. because of the difference in economic security, but perhaps many women instinctively feel it’s safer to stay away. I mean I get it, being in a large crowd can make anyone feel stressed, irritated, angry, but turning to violent behavior like this is primitive and unacceptable. If you’re the type of person who cannot control your own emotions and/or keep it in your pants, perhaps you’re the one who shouldn’t go out in public?

So, even though there is a ton of different research that happens to offer a connection between the two and even though rough sex can even be fun, sex and violence are not the same thing, not matter how much Hannibal wants to convince you otherwise, fucking freak.

P.S. I’ll be analyzing BDSM and the attraction many of us have to it soon, so stay tuned and it is quite relatable!

Thanks for reading.

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