Are You Cool Enough to Live in Denver?

city growth and coolness

Time to Move On Or Fight for Improved Cool?

or

Maybe I Just Need Another Vacation…

The other night my friends and I went to a dance party happening at a bar on South Broadway. There we bumped into a group of people that sort of circle around our circle (and when I say “bumped” I mean they were literally trying to dancepush us off the floor so their crew could all fit, but my ass is way bigger than all of there’s so it worked the other way, thanks ass). Speaking of ass, here’s what I’ve really been struggling with.

Am I jealous of these people because they’re way cooler than me or do I just dislike these people because they’re a bunch of whiny assholes who try way too hard to be cool when really what they’re doing is masking their deep-seated insecurities and daddy/mommy-issues?

Before you get all butt-hurt and think I’m being super judgy, let me state this, when I say that my friend circle circles around their friend circle, what I’m saying is that we all like a lot of the same things and go to the same places. We’ve partied together. We’ve gotten drunk and fucked up and had actual conversations.

I can’t figure out if I want to do those things with them more of the time, less, or never again.

When I see them out they sure look cool. I’m talking specifically style here. Yet, when I watch them interact with each other it seems like they’re not really friends but people using each other to make each other look “cooler.”

Now, one of the editors from the Atlantic (who was my editor when I wrote the women in beer brewing piece here) wrote a book on Popular v. Cool called Hit Makers: The Science of Popularity in an Age of Distraction; I haven’t read it (feel free to buy it for me from my wishlist) but I listened to a convo he had discussing the topic. To sum it up, I believe what he’s saying is that you can’t be popular and cool at the same time. Once something becomes too popular it crosses an invisible “not cool” line. Perhaps that’s why so many of these people struggle to become actually successful at being musicians and artists.

I’m not saying they’re not talented, I’m saying they’re afraid to become popular because then they could lose the only thing they understand: how to look cool.

I love that there are so many amazing creative people in this city. I even love and like a lot of these cool peoples’ music and art and photography. Yet, I still don’t really like them.

I wonder if it’s better to experience them only through their creations, only by their exterior facade than by actually trying to get to know them. Or maybe I should quit being an asshole to them and try a little harder to understand their motivations and inspirations and life choices.

Nah. That sounds tiring.

After careful consideration I have concluded that I am neither popular or cool, but If I had to choose between the two I’d choose popular. I’d choose popular only because there’s a much better chance I’d be rich. In all fairness, I’d rather just be rich and be able to sit out alone by a fancy fucking pool with a tropical drink and a good book.

Cheers to all the non-cool geeks, and freaks, and weirdos.

P.S.
Perhaps a cool person can explain some of this to me sometime. . .? Or would that be breaking the cool-code?

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Freak Fuck Friday: If I Had a Penis For a Day

freaky friday

Would You Ever Want to Switch Bodies With Another Person?

or

What Would You Do In Someone Else’s Body?

Earlier today a guy reached out on Instagram to tell me that he has enjoyed reading my blog, which of course I was flattered by the thoughtful comment. I checked out HIS Instagram and it’s by far one of the best pages I have ever seen. I’d suggest giving his weird napkin ball page a follow if you dare, as it’s quite a treat. While you’re at it feel free to follow mine too, and you’re welcome to DM me if you have something interesting to say.).

Anyway, since I was hungover as shit I asked him to give me today’s blog topic. He asked me if I have ever thought about what the sexual experience feels like (sensation/sensitivity etc) for the opposite sex.

Of course, the answer is a resounding YES. I think about that shit ALL the time.

Now, to be clear, I’m not a fan of Freud and I do not believe in the whole penis-envy bullshit, but I have definitely been curious to know what it must be like to walk around with a long thingy and two squishy hairy ball thingys hanging between my legs (I’ve also wondered what it would be like to be giraffe or a tree or a poodle–eat the mushrooms and you will too!).

I’ve thought about it SO much that I often ask my male friends if they’d ever Freaky Friday with me.

That’s exactly and not exactly what it sounds like.

In my Freaky Friday the guy and I would switch bodies, just like it happens in the movie of the same name. Except my Freaky Friday would play out more like a porn than a Disney film.

I have the whole day planned out too.

First I’d hire a prostitute. Wait, no, FIRST I would pee standing up and THEN I’d hire a prostitute. I’d pay the prostitute a huge sum of money (because now I am a man and just magically have lots of money for some reason) and the prostitute and I would spend a few hours having all the different kinds of sex, oral sex, penis-in-vagina sex, anal sex. I’d even have this very fine, intelligent, hard-working woman peg me, because WHY NOT? I now have a prostate and I’ve heard that massaging the prostate dramatically improves the sensation of an orgasm.

Then I’d go out to a bar and hit on a woman just to feel what it feels like to be rejected once in my life (hahaha you can discover how much that is not true with my blog on rejection located here). But, seriously, I’d go and try to talk to women to see what it’s like from the other side of things.

Maybe because during Freaky Friday I’m a woman in a man’s body, but still have a woman’s brain I’d luck out and one of the women would be interested in me in a sexual way. (Though since I am woman who also has sex with women, I can’t say it’s worked very well for me thus far).

Moving on.

I’d do that helicopter penis dance.

I’d write my name in the snow or the sand or the dirt or whatever happens to be outside that I can pee on.

I’d pee in an alley.

I’d pee off a mountain.

I’d pee out of a window.

(I’d also drink a lot so I could pee some more).

I’d take a pic of my dick and then send it to someone who politely requested to see it.

I’d go to a gay bar. I’d try to hit on men. I’m not quite sure what time of the day it is at this point, but I’d still want to have all of the different kinds of gay sex a guy can have. Why not?!

At some point, I’m sure I’d masturbate too.

Am I missing anything?!?!

Anything I forgot to do while I had this Freaky Friday dick?

I have NO idea what the sensation/sensitivities are for men. I assume all dicks are different in that regard. I also assume that our pleasures are similar though different. We wouldn’t all be rubbing up on each other so much if we weren’t getting that mind-blowing, toe-curling, internal fireworks show moment we all call an orgasm (of course, I will not go into the number of times I haven’t had an orgasm by fucking a dude with a penis because I’m not writing a novel here).

So… if anyone is interested in this experiment let me know. We can, I don’t know, find some magic spell and make it happen.

Cheers to the Freaks and the day we call Friday.

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Tantus

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Lelo