That was the best advice I’ve read about ANYTHING, in a long fucking time! Awesome and so, so, SO TRUE!
I do know this about myself. My desire for women usually comes when I’m feeling unfulfilled with men, but I’m pretty darned sure it’s more about me. Being with women makes me feel powerful in a different way than when I’m with men. I know I’m made to get a man off, but to get a woman off requires more, a lot more. I’m sure there’s deep-seated stuff there that I may never recognize, but at least now I know it’s more than just a sex thing.
I may get a lot of heat for what I’m about to write in this post, because every article I’ve ever read on this subject writes to the contrary, but here goes: Penis size does matter, and 92% of you that answered my poll agree.
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Last week Berkely told me I needed to show my body more, “cause then they’ll know you actually fucked like that.”
She was referring to my books, but still, I resented the way she used “fucked” in past tense, as if my sex life was over…maybe I should have taken PeeWee’s advice and gone down to San Diego this weekend after all. It’s not like I got any other exciting offers. None. Zero. Not one phone call, text, or email inviting me to any labour day festivities. I tweeted: I think people are scared of me. Thinking that, made me feel better. I didn’t want to think about the alternative.
And then, Friday morning, a call from Coco “We’re going to an all night Burning Man party Saturday. DJs, freaks, and simulating the burning of the man. Wanna come?”
I love Coco, her and I have the best bitch sessions about our hubbies, and how we want to have sex with Jon Hamm, but honestly, I don’t get Burning Man. It sounds like Woodstock meets Halloween. But longer, and in the desert. And the music is more electronica than Bob Dylan. Oh yeah, and you have to pay hundreds of dollars to get in.
