Tag Archives: dirty humor

April 30, 2017 · 9:53 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: NFL Draft Edition

It’s a very special Sunday for football fans, like me. For non-football fans, it’s a case study in just how unhealthy our love of sports can be. That’s because this special Sunday has no games, no hitting, and no sexy cheerleaders on the sidelines. It’s the NFL Draft. It’s a huge spectacle for football fans, but it’s not nearly as exciting as it sounds.

The NFL Draft is basically just an event where NFL teams pick from a crop of promising college athletes who they think can graduate from being an unpaid amateur to being a grossly overpaid professional. Some can make this transition, but most don’t. That’s why those that do are a special breed. A few can even help their team become a contender, unless you’re the Cleveland Browns.

Some think it’s inane. Some think it’s a spectacle that doesn’t deserve to be a spectacle. I totally get those criticisms, but since I’m a huge football fan, I don’t give a shit. I love all things about football. While I do take issue with how college players are treated, possibly due to our sexual attitudes, I’ll gladly celebrate this inane sports gimmick.

For others who aren’t that insanely dedicated to sports, don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten about you. In between listening to the entire city of Philadelphia boo Roger Goodell, I still have plenty of sexy thoughts that I’d love to share. As much as I love football, it just can’t turn off a sexy mind.

So while your football-loving buddies are pretending they know better than any NFL general manager, enjoy this latest edition of my “Sexy Sunday Thoughts.” It may not be the same spectacle as the NFL Draft, but it should make you laugh and get you a little horny in the process. That’ll make anyone feel like a first round pick.

“The only difference between a passionate hobby and a fetish is the extent to which it facilitates orgasms.”

We all have hobbies. I certainly do, as my love of comic books regularly demonstrates. We can be pretty damn passionate about our hobbies. Just go to any comic book convention and look at the costumes people wear. That’s a special kind of dedication.

However, a fetish can push things beyond dedication. When our passions lead to arousal and that arousal leads to orgasms, then it can get a little kinky to say the least. No matter how much you love your hobby, orgasms add an extra bit of incentive. That’s why the leap from a hobby to a fetish isn’t as big as you think.

“Are we depraved because we’re horny or are we horny because we’re depraved? It’s an important question because one requires a padded cell and the other requires a prostitute.”

This is the sexual equivalent of a chicken-and-egg scenario. There are some pretty crazy people in this world, some of which are in major positions of power. They can develop some pretty depraved tendencies, but I often wonder how depraved they would be if they just got laid more often.

We all do dumb things when we’re horny. In any situation with any given tool, our horniness will screw us up. Now that’s not to say there are people whose depravity goes beyond being horny, but it is an interesting idea to contemplate, just how much that horniness plays a role.

“It says a lot about the times when any kid with an internet connection can view a billion pairs of female breasts, but they still need to be 17 to see breasts in a movie.”

Let’s face it. The MPAA is completely obsolete. Maybe it had a place 30 years ago when they could put security guards in front of theaters, keeping children from the utter horror that is exposed female breasts. Today, however, it’s a joke. Any kid with an internet connection can see breasts of every shape and size. They shouldn’t have to wait until they’re 17 to see a R-rated movie.

“There’s a fine line between flirtation and harassment. One may get you laid. One may get you fired. The fact we risk it shows just how horny we are at heart.”

This is another testament to our collective horniness. Now there’s no question that harassment is a major issue. It’s also a crime. Men who harass women and women who harass men can do real harm. The problem is that some people have a hard time understanding the difference between harassment and flirtation.

Not knowing that difference can be huge. It can mean the difference between finding a lover and ending up in a courtroom, explaining why you put pictures of your ass as someone’s screen saver. Despite all this, we still risk it. We really are just that horny.

“A one night stand is like fast food. A relationship is like a steady meal. A passionate romance is like an unlimited supply of chocolate fudge.”

There are many variations of sexual intimacy. Sometimes we just need to scratch that proverbial itch. Sometimes we just want someone to hold when we’re alone and horny. Then, there are those times when we find someone we love with true passion. Those times are like chocolate fudge. It can make any moment of any day a treat.

“If women spent a day as men, they’d have a new appreciation for how horny they are. If men spent a day as women, they wouldn’t learn a damn thing because they’d be too busy playing with their breasts.”

I’m sorry, ladies, but this is another one of those inescapable double standards that I’ve talked about before. I believe that women would learn a lot about men if they spent a single day as one. They may gain a new appreciation for why we do the crazy things we do.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t go both ways. If men spent a day as a woman, they would learn next to nothing. How could they? With a pair of breasts always in reach, they would be too distracted.

“Until we can send orgasms through our phones, sexting is just a lazy attempt at amateur porn.”

Now I understand that sexting is a growing phenomena that makes parents recoil in horror. They still can’t wrap their heads around precious baby being sexual in any capacity. However, I think the appeal is overrated. In an era of internet porn and Carl’s Junior ads, it doesn’t exactly have much impact. Now if there was a way to send someone an orgasm over the phone, then that would have an impact, among other things.

“Peacocks and strippers have a lot in common when you think about it.”

I say this not just because I once met a stripper named Peacock. Strippers get up on a stage and put on elaborate shows to entice potential mates/clients/credit card numbers. Peacocks to the same with their elaborate feather displays. It’s all a spectacle that’s done with boning in mind, either directly or indirectly. Some may call it shallow. I think it’s a beautiful demonstration of just how sexy the animal kingdom can be.

That’s it for now. It’s been an eventful weekend for the NFL, but for an aspiring erotica/romance writer, my sexy mind is always on the clock. Between thoughts like this and novels like “Passion Relapse,” I hope to keep supplying everyone with first round sexiness.

Plus, my mind isn’t governed by Roger Goodell. That has to count for something, right?

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April 9, 2017 · 10:03 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Cherry Blossoms Edition

Spring is one of those seasons you either love or want to love. I say want to love because sometimes there are barriers. If you’ve got allergies that kick your ass every chance they get, then the sight of beautiful flowers and cherry blossoms are more likely to fill you with dread instead of awe.

It’s kind of tragic when you think about it. Cherry blossoms and flowers are so beautiful. You want to admire them. It’s like getting a headache every time you see a pair of breasts. You want to see them, but at the same time, you dread it because you know how it’s going to affect you. Some sights are just worth the pain though.

So when it comes to spring, I’m always somewhat torn. I love the warmer weather. It’s easier to sleep naked and the ladies wear less when they go out for a walk. However, having been beaten and abused by allergies my whole life, I can’t help but feel a twinge of dread when I see the trees in my neighborhood bloom.

This year has been no exception. I’m at the part of spring where I’m convinced that my sinuses hate me and want to make me miserable until summer. I’ll endure though. That’ll make the sight of beaches and bikinis that much more satisfying.

Until then, though, I’ll need a potent mix of allergy medications and sexy thoughts to tide me over. Since it is Sunday and I’m still committed to my weekly Sexy Sunday Thoughts column, I’d say I’m ready for some extra medicine. I don’t care how it enters my body. It just has to be potent. That’s every bit as dirty as you think it is.

“If all drugs had to be taken rectally, would that increase or decrease homophobia?”

It’s not much of a secret. When anti-gay crusaders go on their gay-bashing rants, they tend to focus heavily on anal sex. These same people probably pleasure themselves to the idea of two women going at it, but anal sex just makes them feel all sorts of strange and uncomfortable feelings.

Ignoring for the moment how asinine, if that’s not too loaded a word, their obsession over anal sex tends to be, I wonder if these people have ever had to take a drug rectally. If they did, would that change their sentiment? Would they still find another reason to whine about gays? It might not be an overly sexy thought, but it is pretty funny when you contemplate it.

“No matter what the dictionary says, the word exacerbate sounds like a form of desperate masturbation.”

I remember the first day my English teacher used this word. I was in the seventh grade. The limited maturity and excessive hormones of me and my fellow classmates ensured an awkward reaction. I know what the dictionary says. I’ve even used this word in my novels. No matter how inane its meaning might be, the inner seventh grader in me will always conjure dirty thoughts.

“Everything considered a vice makes us horny. Does that mean the police are indirectly regulating our horniess when they enforce drug laws?”

It’s another poorly-kept secret about drugs, drug enforcement, and vice laws. If you look closely at any of them, they’re all directly or indirectly affect our sex lives. If a drug makes us horny, then chances are the DEA will raid any place that makes it and the President will declare it as poisonous as arsenic.

We get it. Government and religious types don’t like the people getting too horny. It distracts us from more important things like paying taxes or building monuments to our overlords. I’m not saying it doesn’t have a place in civilization, but at least be honest about it.

“Pubic hair is either sexy or disgusting with very little in between. That means those who permanently remove their pubic hair are really hedging their bets.”

Pubic hair is like a never-ending fashion fad. Sometimes having a nice, unkempt bush is the sexiest thing a man or woman can do to their lower anatomy. Sometimes the mere sight of pubic hair inspires uncontrollable gagging. Like Pokémon, it’s a craze that comes and goes.

That’s why I think those who permanently remove their hair with something like electrolysis are really hedging their bets. While pubic hair might not be that sexy today, thanks largely to the efforts of the Brazilians, that could easily change in the coming years. When it comes to sexiness, don’t hedge your bets is what I’m saying.

“Everything that’s even slightly shaped like a penis will be the subject of a dirty joke. No exceptions.”

This is a basic rule of the internet, people, and life in general. We all have an inner 13-year-old just waiting to laugh at the first thing that reminds us of penises. It doesn’t matter if we’re old, bald, and shitting in bags. A part of us will always find humor in something that’s shaped like a penis. It’s one of those few rules that have no exceptions.

“If something can be used as lubricant, then it has been used in a sex act. No exceptions.”

Dick jokes aren’t the only rules that have no exceptions. Human beings are wonderfully inventive. Spray cheese in a can is already a testament to that ingenuity. However, it doesn’t take the chemical expertise of Walter White to understand how any potential lubricant can be used.

Whether we’re cavemen using fish entrails or rocket scientists using advanced molecular substrates, at some point those liquids will be used for something sexual. It might involve masturbation. It might involve sensual massages. In any case, it’s going to be used for a sex act at some point. Again, there are no exceptions to this rule.

“One man’s pain is another man’s foreplay. One woman’s foreplay is another man’s kink. One couple’s kink is a young child’s trauma.”

Human beings are strange and complicated creatures. The fact we’re actively working on sex robots is proof enough of that. Our concepts of foreplay and kink vary wildly from person to person. One person may find it disgusting, but another will be so turned on that they can’t get naked fast enough.

This kind of variety is a beautiful thing in my opinion. I’m all for people exploring and celebrating their kinks. Just make sure your kids don’t catch you. Some conversations are just too awkward at any age.

“When you think about it, a masturbation competition has no real losers.”

This is just simple logic. If you’re in a masturbation contest and you achieve orgasm at any point, then it doesn’t matter whether you’ve won or lost. You still had an orgasm. No matter what the situation, orgasms make you feel like a winner. Again, that’s just logic.

I hope that did the trick. Does everyone else feel their sinuses clearing up? If so, you’re welcome. If not, you’re still welcome because you now have sexy thoughts streaming through your head. Laughter may be the best medicine, but I’d say sexy thoughts are a close second.

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March 19, 2017 · 10:23 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: St. Patrick’s Day Edition

Top of the morning to ye, my lovely lasses and laddies! I hope everyone here had a safe, fun, hangover-free St. Patrick’s Day this past week. Whether you stayed sober or got more drunk than Homer Simpson at happy hour, I hope you all had a fun, sexy time.

I know St. Patrick’s Day isn’t exactly Christmas in March. I know it doesn’t involve elaborate gifts, fancy deserts, or family gatherings that coincide with football games. However, it does involve a damn good excuse for heavy drinking, bad dancing, and public nudity. We all live such stressful lives these days. I say we need something like that every now and then.

I won’t go into detail about how I spent my St. Patrick’s Day. Just assume it involved more than a few beers and resulted in some form of nudity. For me, that constitutes a successful holiday in any capacity. Considering how sick I was a week ago, it’s a damn good feeling and one that has inspired some sexy musings.

As such, I’m proud to present my official St. Patrick’s Day edition of “Sexy Sunday Thoughts.” I can’t guarantee that all of these musings were surmised with a sober mind. I also can’t guarantee they won’t disturb those still recovering from a hangover. I’ll just say that they’re a product of a mind that’s just glad to not be sick anymore and eager to celebrate any holiday that inspires public nudity. Enjoy!

“Women underestimate how much breasts make men act stupid and overestimate how much they’ll regret that stupidity in the morning.”

I’ve seen men do many stupid things when in the presence of exposed breasts. I, myself, have done my share of foolish things in the presence of breasts. I don’t think that women understand just how much power their breasts have over us.

It often leads to cases where women complain about male stupidity when in the presence of beautiful women. I get why some women feel that way. Even some men feel that way. However, they don’t seem to understand how futile it is to make men feel sorry for appreciating the power of breasts. You can shame men for a lot of reasons. Being stupid around breasts isn’t one of them.

“It’s inherently hypocritical for men to insult a woman for being a bitch, but still wanting her to fuck like one.”

I’m a man. I have a lot of male friends. As such, it’s not uncommon for some of those friends to complain about a woman being too bitchy, whether it’s a co-worker, a girlfriend, a sibling, or a spouse. In some cases, the insult is justified. In most, however, it’s somewhat misguided.

That’s because I’ve also noticed how men expect so much from their women. They want a loyal, gentle, nurturing lady they can parade in front of their grandparents, but they also want a kinky nymphomaniac who will fuck like Jenna Jameson on crack. That’s expecting too much, in my opinion, and insults mixed with hypocrisy is never sexy.

“A man who shaves his balls assumes way too much about the role they play in his sex appeal.”

I don’t know who started this trend. Whoever it is, I wish to personally punch them in the jaw. The male nutsack has a purpose and shaving it does nothing to enhance or facilitate that purpose. I get the logic behind grooming pubic hair and being mindful of one’s genitalia. I just don’t think the presence or absence of hair on a man’s balls has much influence on how sexy he is.

“We live in an era where a text message can count as foreplay and a compliment on a woman’s breasts can count as harassment.”

Honestly, I’m scared to compliment a woman on her appearance these days. Anything and everything said about her body can be construed as harassment of some kind. It’s frustrating because women say they want us to respect their bodies, but get offended when we compliment it. It’s enough to frustrate any man’s brain and genitals.

Then, there’s the idea of sexting. Apparently, this is how a new generation of horny men and women are getting around that issue. For them, a simple text message is the equivalent of tongue-kissing and copping a feel. I’m all for the power of the written word, but some kinds of power need not be that skewed.

“The fact that so many young people learn about sex through internet porn makes me worry that they overestimate the impact of spanking.”

Now I love internet porn as much as the next guy. I’m grateful for the service and convenience it provides. However, I worry that our collective unwillingness to talk to young people about sex is essentially deferring the issue to porn stars, porn studios, and Howard Stern.

That would be like ditching driver’s education and letting teenagers learn about driving by watching “The Fast and The Furious” in conjunction with having multiple orgasms. That’s going to leave a flawed impression. Given the amount of lubricant, tattoos, anal bleaching, and spanking involved in the average porn, I worry that an entire generation of youth will have a flawed understanding of what constitutes intimate, sensual experiences.

“Sex appeal is like the meat on the bone of a juicy stake. Romance is a willingness to slow-cook that steak and marinate it in special sauce.”

As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, it’s important to understand the difference between raw sex appeal and romance. Sex appeal is pretty basic. A woman with big breasts and a man with a big dick has inherent sex appeal. Those traits trigger the kind of basic, primal responses that made our cavemen ancestors horny.

Romance, on the other hand, goes beyond the mere primal. Romance requires a certain amount of thought, patience, and planning. Whether you’re a man or a woman, romance is the icing while the sex appeal is merely the sugar. Our willingness to be patient, thoughtful, and intimate goes a long way towards crafting that perfect dish, be it a dinner or desert.

“When you think about it, romantic gestures that cost money are down payments towards future orgasms.”

Economics and finance are rarely that sexy. That doesn’t mean they can’t influence our love lives. When you get down to the basics, romantic gestures are like emotional investments. Instead of interest, the payoff is love, intimacy, and hot sex. Even by Warren Buffet standards, that’s a pretty good return on investment.

That’s all for now. Hope this helps others recover from their St. Patrick’s Day festivities and/or reconcile with their liver. Laughter is supposed to be the best medicine. So long as it isn’t coupled with blackouts and dry-heaves, I like to think I’ve helped.

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March 5, 2017 · 11:04 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: The Hugh Jackman Appreciation Edition

This weekend has been a big deal for X-men fans, comic book fans, and people who just think Hugh Jackman is God’s gift to this world. The “Logan” movie is out. If you haven’t seen it yet, what the hell is your excuse? Short of a death in the family, a life-threatening illness, or a date with Taylor Swift, there is none.

It’s exciting, but bittersweet for X-men fans. With this monumental movie, Hugh Jackman is hanging up his claws. He will no longer play Wolverine. I’ve talked about why this movie matters and why it’s importance goes beyond catering to comic book fans like myself. There will probably be many more discussions on this movie and its associated topics down the line. For now, though, Hugh Jackman has done his part.

What can you say about the man that hasn’t already been said or screamed by women with vivid imaginations during sex? He’s one of the most likable guys in Hollywood who doesn’t sell cocaine. He’s a truly special soul.

As a noted X-men fan, I can say for certain that his contributions to X-men and comic book movies will be celebrated for generations to come. Whatever he does next in his storied career, I wish him nothing but the best. May he enjoy critical praise and nude scenes with every actress on “Game of Thrones” for the rest his career.

That’s why I’d like to dedicate this week’s edition of “Sexy Sunday Thoughts” to the man who dedicated 17 years of his life to playing everyone’s favorite razor-clawed, whiskey chugging, mutton-chops wielding Canadian. I doubt he’ll ever read this, but Mr. Jackman, consider this my way of saying thanks.

“Teenagers have any number of reasons for being miserable, but you rarely see miserable teenagers with healthy sex lives. Coincidence?”

I like to think of myself as an expert on miserable teenagers, seeing as how I had a talent for misery throughout high school. I know all about the things that make a teenager sad, depressed, and just plain pissed off at the world.

For the teenagers that had healthy sex lives, and I know this because teenagers suck at shutting up, they weren’t really that miserable. It turns out that, despite all the fears about teen sex, it is possible for some teenagers to be responsible about it. The result is less misery. Go figure.

“Teach a man to love a woman and he’ll dedicate himself to finding the one for him. Teach a man to go down on a woman and that woman he’s seeking will find him.”

I consider this critical romantic advice for men who seek the love of women. As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, I explore all sorts of ideas about love, sex, and intimacy. In that exploration, I’ve learned that it’s not enough to just be passionate about finding a significant other. You also have to give those whose love you seek incentive.

When it comes to incentives, it’s hard to top good oral sex. It doesn’t matter how bad a day a man or woman is having. If their day ends with good oral sex, it’s a good day. That, my fellow men, will streamline any romantic quest.

“Does a prostitute at a singles bar defeat the purpose?”

People go to singles bars to seek out new romantic partners, hook up, and get laid if their lucky. It’s a complex game, one that requires an elaborate mating dances of sorts. Put it in a nature show and it’s basically a documentary with more rap music in the background.

A prostitute, male or female, circumvents that dance. There’s no ambiguity with their goals. There’s no elaborate dance beyond haggling how much extra it costs for oral. Not saying prostitutes have no place in a singles bar. They definitely do. However, they do sort of undermine the principle.

“If pole dancing qualifies as exercise, then lap dances should count as romance.”

Pole dancing is a new fitness trend. That’s not a joke. Seriously, this is actually a thing. I’m not too big on fitness fads these days, but this just feels like an excuse for people to exercise their elaborate stripper fantasies that they don’t want to share with their significant others.

If that’s really the case, then they why do things halfway? Why not go the extra distance and throw lap dances into the mix? If you’re going to call stuff like that fitness, then let’s at least be as flexible when it comes to romance.

“A trained gynecologist has no excuse for being bad at cunnilingus.”

This is just basic logic. Doctors go to school for a long time and have to learn a lot of things about the human body that most people never get to know, nor do they want to know. A gynecologist is just one of many specialties and I imagine it has a certain appeal that other parts of the body just can’t match.

So if someone is a trained and competent gynecologist, they should know the mechanics of giving women good oral sex. If they don’t, then what’s that say about their competence as a doctor? You can get away with being incompetent at some things. Gynecology is not one of them.

“Crossfit is to exercise what fisting is to sex.”

This is more an indictment about crossfit than it is about fisting. Now we all have certain sex acts that we consider uncomfortable or extreme. Some are just built for those acts and for those people, I say more power to them.

Crossfit, however, is one of those things where people seem to go out of their way to punish their bodies. It’s intense, it’s strenuous, and it doesn’t work for everybody. However, the people involved, much like those who love fisting too much, don’t shut the fuck up about it. Now I’m all for better sex and exercise. I don’t need people getting evangelical about it.

“No epic love story ever began with a drunken bar bet that involved public nudity.”

I’m sure there are any number of one-night stands and hookups that began with bar bets and public nudity. I may even write about some of those stories in my novels at some point. For a truly epic love story, though, I’m just as certain that it’s not a viable starting point.

Now I’m not saying it’s impossible. I’m not saying there isn’t a place for bar bets and public nudity, especially during Mardi Gras. However, if you’re trying to craft an epic love story, you’re probably going to need a better starting point.

“A teenage boy can’t truly say he’s smart until he’s learned how to get semen stains out of his bed sheets.”

This is something men everywhere have to deal with at some point, but rarely talk about. As teenagers, our dicks get us into all sorts of trouble. Even when we’re sleeping, they like to screw with us. So when our dreams get a little too vivid, the results tend to lead to awkward conversations with parents.

For those teenage boys who consider themselves smart and resourceful, they find a way to hide the evidence and avoid those conversations. I don’t care how many AP classes you take. If you’re not smart enough to hide the evidence of your Jennifer Lawrence fantasies from your mother, then you can’t call yourself smart.

That’s it for now. On behalf of Wolverine fans and people who just fine Hugh Jackman sexy as hell, I thank you. Mr. Jackman, this one’s for you. You spent 17 years playing Wolverine, the most badass comic book character of all time. Thank you for making the world a little sexier.

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January 29, 2017 · 7:45 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: The Romantic Cabin Edition

It’s a tough week for a lot of men out there. This is the first weekend where we have no football to watch. For many, it’s the most agonizing time of the year. Christmas is over. Football is ending. This particular weekend basically begins the long, arduous wait until these things we love return.

In these dark times, it’s important that we support each other. It’s just as important that we turn to our lovers in our time of need. We should not run from their love, nor should we wallow in lonely despair. It’s already colder than a penguins ass outside. This is as good a time as any to cuddle up, embrace those we love, and console ourselves, at least until the NFL Draft.

As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, I can only do so much. I probably haven’t helped by talking about such heavy topics as evil, villains, and Lawrence Phillips. Well, today is different.

Today, I’m bringing this sad, lonely world that now lacks Christmas decorations and football games another round of my “Sexy Sunday Thoughts.” They won’t bring football or Christmas back any sooner, but I hope it offers some comfort, as well as a few dirty laughs. If it can also get you and your lover in the mood, then that’s just a nice bonus for everybody. Enjoy!

The male douche-bags of the world affect a lot of people, but the women who willingly have sex with douche-bags ensure that effect spreads across generations. So who is worse?

We all hate douche-bags. We all want to punch the rich kids of Instagram in the jaw. If there’s any force powerful enough to counter their shit, it’s the beautiful women they try to sleep with. Beautiful women are their kryptonite. So ladies, especially those with big tits, the power is in your hands. Fight the power of douche-bags. Don’t sleep with them anymore. You’ll change the world for the better.

Those who claim they favor quality over quantity must be inherently conflicted when it comes to orgasms.

Quality over quantity works in so many things. In many instances, it’s the hardest option available, but it’s the one most worth doing. When it comes to orgasms though, the whole quality vs. quantity debate takes on a whole new dimension. I don’t think men or women are equipped to make sense of it. Never-the-less, even if you try and fail, you never really lose in the long run.

Teach a man to fish and he eats for a lifetime. Teach a man to give good oral sex and he’ll never be alone for the duration of that lifetime.

There are some skills that are just gifts. I’m sure the Ron Jeremys of the world are aware of theirs. Some, however, can be learned. Oral sex is one of them. That is a skill that can bring people together in ways that transcend race, talent, and status. It is also a skill that can be learned. Learning that skill may not make you a saint, but it’ll make you a lot of close, loyal friends.

If sex has a smell and that smell comes out through sweat, then saunas must really confuse our noses and our genitals.

I’ve been in a sauna before. I’ve smelled sweaty naked bodies before, male and female. I’m not going to lie. My nose and my genitals don’t always agree. It’s not a conflict I’m equipped to deal with. It has no winners. So long as I have extra towels or a really lose bathing suit, I can manage it.

A young, attractive man whose poor still doesn’t have an advantage over an old, ugly man who is rich.

I’ve made this point before. I’ll keep making it because it needs to be belabored. There is no such thing as an unsexy rich man. Even if you have the body of a young Brad Pitt and the eyes of Ryan Gosling, being dirt poor ensures your options in ladies are peanuts compared to those of old, rich, ugly guys.

A lot of money goes a long ways towards moistening the loins of certain women. I concede that not all women are this way, but the population of those who are is probably much higher than we care to admit.

If men could really think with their dicks, then would getting a blowjob count as a mental exercise?

A penis can’t think. If it did, I’d have gotten straight-As through high school and college with ease. Men and women alike often claim we mistake our dicks for our brains. The erotica/romance writer in me likes to contemplate crazy sexy scenarios about what would happen if we could somehow bridge that gap. How much smarter would men be if blowjobs improved our thinking skills? It sure as hell would make school more fun.

If sex were a video game, the clitoris would be a cheat code that too many men are reluctant to use.

So long as I’m talking about dicks, I might as well be fair to the body parts of women as well. A dick is hard to hide. Any teenage boy with a boner during gym class knows that. A clitoris is a bit more subtle. However, once you know how to work it, this wondrous creation of nature is a shortcut to a woman’s ecstasy.

The sad part is that too many men either refuse to take this shortcut or don’t even know it’s there. It’s a frustrating problem, but a fixable one. I hope my contributions as an erotica/romance writer can help.

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