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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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Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Non-Leap Year Edition

This is the time of year where having to wear sweatpants really starts to get to me. I’d like to make it clear that if and when I ever become a successful erotica/romance writer, I intend to retire in a tropical climate. If I’m going to live out my golden years in comfort, I’m going to live them in a place where I can walk around my house naked all year-round.

Yes, the end of winter is in sight. In my particular part of the country, it hasn’t been too bad. Hell, it’s been pretty damn nice compared to past years where I’ve had to shovel two feet of snow before breakfast. I don’t want to jinx it so I won’t let myself be too optimistic. I’ll just say that for me, shoveling lots of snow is right up there with dry-heaves and explosive diarrhea in terms of unsexy activities.

Whatever the case, and whatever some groundhog in Pennsylvania says, the end of winter is near. The time of bikinis, speedos, and more casual nudity is almost here. It still can’t get here fast enough, but I’m willing to be patient. I know that good thinks, like bikinis and casual nudity, are worth waiting for.

To help make the wait a bit more bearable for everyone, here’s another entry in my “Sexy Sunday Thoughts” column. Whether you’re trying to stay warm in the winter or looking to stay cool in the summer, a little sexiness helps improve everyone’s mood. Like thong panties, they’re welcome in any season. Enjoy!


“About 75 percent of music is about looking for love. Around 20 percent of music is about getting over love. The other 5 percent is about actively enjoying it.”

I love music as much as the next guy who doesn’t get violently ill whenever Rebecca Black sings. However, I’ve noticed over the years that a lot of music tends to have the same themes. Either someone is trying to get laid, lamenting about how they’re not getting laid, or actively in the process of getting laid. Sometimes, it all happens within the same song.

I’m not saying these songs are bad. I’m just saying they could stand to mix it up every now and then. Aren’t there enough songs about breakups and finding love? Then again, Taylor Swift’s success probably answers that question.


“Tits are like pizza. They’re good in every form.”

Men can be extremely picky. I once roomed with a guy who always had to put four packets of sugar in his coffee, no more and no less. Anything else was considered heated toilet water. Those kinds of peculiarities are rampant among men.

However, when it comes to tits, we might as well be a bunch of hippies singing U2 songs. No matter what the shape, size, or color may be, men love tits. Like pizza, it’s a universally enjoyable thing.


“Penises are like beer. They’re an acquired taste, but they all function in a fairly similar manner.”

Now I’m not saying there’s a double standard here. Men will go to great lengths to see tits. They would sit through the longest, most god-awful movie of all time if it meant seeing Jessica Alba’s tits. With penises, it’s different though.

Women, and gay men by default, don’t go to those kinds of lengths just to see a penis. However, like certain kinds of alcohol, it’s possible to acquire a taste for it. Once you do, you become pretty damn loyal to that particular brand of penis. It’s a beautiful thing.


“A morning erection says a lot about how well a man slept, as well as what he dreamt about.”

Morning wood can be annoying at times. I can’t count how many awkward mornings I had in college when I woke up with a goddamn kickstand in my pants. However, I don’t deny that mornings that begin with an erection are usually preceded by a particularly restful sleep. In some respects, it’s my mind and body letting me know that I’m doing something right.


“If feminists are so serious about equality, then why aren’t they protesting the disparity between MILF and DILF porn?”

Let’s face it. There’s enough MILF porn on the internet to fill an entire Google server farm. It’s a pretty popular genre and why wouldn’t it be? It taps into the inner Oedipus in all men, seeing the inherent sexiness that comes from one who has brought life into this world.

So why, in the name of all things sexy, don’t men get the same appreciation? MILFs wouldn’t be MILFs without men. That’s just a biological fact. Feminists make such a big deal about equal representation in other industries. Why are they overlooking porn?


“If our genitals came with an app, we’d eventually find a way to break both.”

Maybe this is a fear over how future biotechnology may affect our genitals in the future, but given the way we abuse our smartphones, I shudder to think what would happen if our genitals were linked to it. Whether you’re a man or a woman, you’re equally capable of abusing your body parts as much as your devices. What will happen when we end up abusing both? It will be downright traumatic.


“True love is never having to apologize for an ill-timed fart.”

There are any number of signs to let you know you’re in love. Sometimes, the simplest ones are the most obvious. When we’re uncertain and afraid, we’ll try to control everything right down to the number of sweat beads on our head. However, when we are certain that we’ve found a lasting love, we’re okay with just letting our bodies do what they need to do. Again, it’s a beautiful thing.


That’s it for now. To those who miss casual nudity around the house as much as I do, just hang in there just a little bit longer. Our time is coming. The days of itchy sweatpants are numbered.

 

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Sexy Sunday Thoughts: The (Anti) Valentine’s Day Edition

It’s almost here, that most holy of holidays among lovers, fuck buddies, and anyone who signed the necessary legal documents permitting them to have sex without a priest or mullah bitching about it. That’s right, it’s almost Valentine’s Day.

For an aspiring erotica/romance writer, it should be a good day for me. It should be one of those days where I shamelessly promote some of the sexy romance stories I’ve crafted. I mean why wouldn’t a seamy thriller like “Skin Deep” or a steamy romance like “The Escort and the Gigolo” not be appropriate for this most sappy of holidays?

Again, it should be one of those days for me. Sadly, it isn’t. In my experience, Valentine’s Day is one of those holidays that’ll either remind you that you’re lucky enough to have a lover or that you’re unlucky enough to be alone. From the looks of it, this year’s Valentine’s Day will be the former for me.

Yes, it does look like I’ll be spending Valentine’s Day alone again. My only companion will be named Jack Daniels it seems. At least I can say he’s always there for me in my time of need, among other things.

However, I refuse to let my current relationship status or lack thereof keep me from thinking about overtly sexy stuff. I wouldn’t be a very good erotica/romance writer if I weren’t. So in the spirit of Valentine’s Day, for both those who love it and those who hate it, I give you another version of my “Sexy Sunday Thoughts.”

If you have a lover, hopefully they get you in the mood. If you don’t, hopefully it gives you strength to endure this most annoying of holidays. Whether you’re content or miserable, a little sexiness goes a long ways.


Sex and love are two related concepts that work best when the line between the two is hopelessly blurred.

As much as I dislike Valentine’s Day, I am a romantic at heart. I’ve always had a deep affinity for romance. It’s a big reason why I strive to become a successful erotica/romance writer. I know it’s sappy, overplayed, and partially ruined thanks to Twilight, but I still love romance, especially the kind that mixes perfectly with a little sexiness. When put together, they make a damn potent combination.


The fact that we struggle to tell the difference between a horny teenager and a miserable teenager says a lot about why they struggle through high school.

If I’ve said it a billion times, I still haven’t said it enough. Being a teenager sucks. High school sucks. What makes it suck even more is that this is usually the time in our biological life cycle when we’re the most horny. I don’t care how cool you are or how good your grades our. If you’re really horny, you’re going to be miserable.

We’re so goddamn horny, but every PSA and after school special is urging us to never have sex or even think about it. Then, people wonder why teenagers are so miserable in a world of smart phones and bacon-wrapped shrimp. That’s what horniness does to immature minds. It’s just basic biology.


The day men and women achieve true equality is the day calling someone a slut becomes a term of endearment.

I’m not a fan of certain insults. I’m okay with calling someone an asshat or a shithead because they apply equally to both genders and send a clear message. Other insults like slut and whore just don’t work for me because that message isn’t clear.

Most men want women to have sex with us. Most men want them to be willing to get naked. So why create an insult that shames that? We’re not doing our genitals any favors. It’s just as much a problem when women use these insults. They act like wanting to fuck and enjoy toe-curling pleasure is a bad thing. Am I the only one who sees a flaw in that?


The day science perfects the bionic penis is the same day dildo makers start to panic.

Make no mistake, science is working on this and they have made progress. So long as men want to keep improving the function of their dicks, and they have since they first found out that theirs isn’t the biggest, they will pursue a technological enhancement. At some point, science will improve this part of our body, along with many others.

When that day comes, dildo makers will be in trouble. In fact, they may be the first to suffer. Why would women even settle for a lifeless hunk of plastic when there are men with efficient, robust cocks walking around? Be afraid, dildo makers. Be very afraid.


There are disturbingly few differences between politicians and prostitutes, but only one knows how to use their mouth with any skill.

There are any number of jokes we can make about politicians these days, especially after last year’s election. Many of these jokes are funny because they have an uncomfortable amount of truth to them. That’s why I find their similarities to prostitutes so hilarious, albeit in a tragic sort of way.

What sets prostitutes apart is their ability to use their mouths to screw people in ways they actually enjoy. In that respect, they’re far more respectable than almost every politician in the world. Is it any wonder why so many are eager to ban prostitution?


Ten talented fingers will never be a skilled as one experienced tongue.

I know. It’s another thought about sexy tongues. I have a lot of them. I don’t know why, but I’ve always found skilled tongues to be extra sexy. I know there are men and women who put a lot of effort into using their hands, as well as other parts of their body, to the utmost in pleasing a lover.

However, in my experience a tongue just has too much versatility in matters of love and sex. No fingers, or any other body part, can ever hope to match it.


Whoever invented body glitter was either tired of hiding their affairs or just wanted a creative way to brag about how much sex they get.

I really don’t understand the purpose of body glitter. I don’t even understand why it’s a thing. However, I’ve noticed that it’s usually popular with strippers. That indicates to me that there’s a connection that nobody wants to think too much about. Given how one of my books involves strippers, I guess I can’t help but think about it more than most.


Positive thinking doesn’t get you laid, but it keeps your genitals on standby.

Let’s face it. Our minds are way too easy to fool. What else explains the power of the Placebo Effect? As such, why wouldn’t it affect our sex lives in some profound way?

It’s often said that the brain is the most important sex organ in our bodies, or a close second at the very least. That’s why it makes sense to keep it positive and energized. Your genitals and your brain may be at odds sometimes, but they can help each other when the thoughts and situations are just right.


That’s it for now. On behalf of myself and all those who will likely spend Valentine’s Day alone, hang in there. Be strong. Be sexy in your own right. Love will come come and when it does, hopefully you will too.

Yes, that last line is every bit as dirty as you think it is.

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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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Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Playoff Edition

If you’re an American Football fan, then this is a wonderful time of you for you. It’s playoff time! That’s right, the NFL playoffs start today. This is one of those years where I don’t have a lot of teams I’m rooting for. I have quite a few teams I’m rooting against, but sometimes that’s the best you can do in sports.

I’ll definitely be enjoying my share of the NFL playoffs for this week and the next couple weeks. Watching football is a great excuse to just pop open some beers, gorge on chicken wings, and relax. You usually don’t need too many excuses for that, but it helps.

You’d think that contact sports involving a bunch of big, strong, sweaty men ramming into each other at full speed wouldn’t inspire sexy thoughts. Actually, I don’t know why anyone would think that. Anything that works up a sweat or raises the heart can send all sorts of sexy signals to your brain. For an erotica/romance writer, those signals are always welcome.

So I’d like to make use of them today with another edition of Jack Fisher’s “Sexy Sunday Thoughts.” Hope this helps get everyone in the mood for the NFL playoffs, among other things. I consider it a public service from an aspiring erotica/romance writer, if only to keep people warm during the cold winter.

“Having an attractive pool cleaning guy is the male equivalent of having a hot secretary.”

How many pornos and bad movies that only air after midnight on Cinemax use this scenario? It’s overplayed. It’s predictable. It’s even a little flat. Even so, it can still be fun. It can still be sexy. Sometimes you just gotta stick with what works.

“For the excessively homophobic crowd, eating a hotdog or a banana must cause some serious anxiety.”

I have little to no sympathy for those who champion homophobia. I stash their sentiment in the same pile of trash as those who claim that letting kids playing dodge ball counts as abuse. However, I do sometimes wonder how stressful it must be to hold such extreme, bigoted views on an empty stomach.

“Give men a tax break for the number of real orgasms they give their wives and the number of happy marriages will increase considerably.”

This is just one of those crazy ideas that comes to an aspiring erotica/romance writer while he’s lying in bed at night, contemplating ways to change the world. Powerful, politically connected men are all about tax breaks these days. Provide a little orgasmic incentive and that power can be put to good use.

“Every time you see a really nice table in someone couple’s home, assume someone has been bent over and fucked on it at least once.”

This is simple math and connection here. You eat your meals on a nice table. You put your best cloths and flatware on a nice table. Naturally, if you’ve got a lover, you’re going to put them on there too and fuck their brains out. Sometimes people are just too horny to make it to the bedroom.

“The color of your bed sheets can inadvertently reveal how messy or dull your sex life might be.”

This time, it’s basic physics and chemistry at work here. Certain bed sheets, especially those of a darker color, tend to reveal certain stains more than others. The presence or absence of those stains can say a lot about your sex life.

“Giving sex education to horny teenagers can only go so far. Giving them sexual training might actually help their love lives down the line and they might actually be eager to learn it.”

As a former horny teenager, this is something I can relate to. My teachers can tell me everything there is to know about how a penis and vagina work. I’m not going to know if I’m doing it right without a little guidance. I’m not saying that it’s wholly feasible in high school, but it would make everyone a lot more excited to go to school.

“From a pure numbers perspective, women’s vaginas have cracked more bank accounts than every hacker or bank robber in history.”

I’ve watched many crime movies. I’ve heard all sorts of crazy stories about elaborate heists and hacks. Then, I recall how divorce laws work in this country and realize that if you’re going to crack a safe, sometimes a vagina and a great pair of tits is the best tools you can have. You don’t see too many sexy female bank robbers, do you?

That’s it for now. Enjoy the NFL playoffs and keep your tables clean!

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