Alternative Birth Control

I’ve got 10 events in 10 days at work so I’m reposting some old content I find funny.  New content will resume on February 6th.

Reposted from 2015:


I tend to be a spontaneous kind of person.

Which is wonderful if you’re my friend and you want to have fun but bad for meeting men.

That is to say, it’s GREAT for the men to have me spontaneously LEAP into bed with them but it’s bad for creating actual relationships.

Because of this, I’ve evolved some alternative techniques to help me keep my lustful urges under control.

They may seem odd, but believe me, they work.

Case in point – my date with The Israeli this weekend.

We are making out on his couch and he is ABSOLUTELY CONFOUNDED BY MY JACKET.

I’m wearing a wool jacket and it’s buttoned up AND the belt is knotted around my waist.

jacketI’m telling you, it took him a good 10 minutes to get me out of that jacket. With much laughter and giggling on our parts.

Enter birth control level 2 – I’m wearing a scuba dress (think high neckline, sleeveless, high density lycra).

dressBasically, there is virtually no area of my body that he can get to without GREAT effort.

It was fun to watch him struggle with it.

But eventually, it came off.

No laughing or giggling this time. Just a lot of heavy breathing.

Enter the final level of alternative birth control.

The granny panty.

pantiesYes indeed. The kind of underwear that is super comfortable but ultimately very ugly. It’s birth control effect is only felt by the wearer (in this case, me) in order to dissuade me from being caught dead in such ugly undies.

I took them off my own self and slipped into my backup sexy panties which I brought with me for just such an occasion.

panties2I’m not saying it’s a perfect system of birth control.

Just that if he can get through 3 levels of alternative birth control measures, he deserves some candy.

Do Men Fake It?

Can a man climax without ejaculation?

This is the question that’s on my mind this morning.

I say no.

Others say yes.

I’ve been with men who were multi orgasmic.

The Israeli was multi orgasmic.

I’ve never known a man to climax as much as he did, and every time, a little dollop of love juice spilled out.

He may have ultimately been a rude partner, but at least the man could get it up, keep it up, and keep going.

I joked with him that he missed out on a great career in the porn industry.

He was an engineer.

Tejas, the resident expert on all things sexual, has assured me that it is possible.

He says you can train the stream to go into the bladder, to which I say “no fucking way” because it’s physically impossible to mix the excretory system with the reproductive system.

Then he says that perhaps a man can “empty” himself by masturbating repetitively.

This seems more likely.

However, I’m still skeptical.

Just like I’m skeptical when a man tells me he’s given a woman 250 orgasms in a weekend.

FYI, that’s one orgasm every 12 minutes in a 48 hour period.

My friend Mystery Man, also thinks a male climax without semen release is possible.

For the same reason Tejas says it’s possible – repetitive masturbation.

Ok, ok.

So MAYBE it’s possible.

Then again, maybe men FAKE it. . .




Holiday Hookup

IMG_8521At this time last year I was dating The Israeli.

Sure, he turned out to be an ass hat who ghosted me over Christmas after giving me a facial, but for a while there I was having fun.


Dates have been few and far between lately since I stopped internet dating.

And I’ll admit, when I got an email from with pictures of my “matches” I paused and glanced at a few of them.

I looked but I didn’t click.

I LOVE the holidays.

It’s my favorite time of year, the days between my birthday and New Year’s Day.

The only thing that could make my holiday better would be a holiday hookup, but I don’t see how that’s even possible given that I’m not meeting anyone.

Years ago, I had a boyfriend who also loved the holiday season and I think our first Christmas together was the happiest I’ve been IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.

We listened to holiday music together, explored the Bay Area, and I chronicled all of it with pictures and photo books.


This year, I think I’m destined to go through the holidays solo.

And I’m okay with that.

It’s much better to go through the holidays alone than go through the holidays with a face full of Israeli cum and a ghost.



IMG_8498My first experience with ghosting was this past holiday season when The Israeli ghosted me.

One minute a guy is cumming all over your face, the next he’s disappeared on you.

Our split was inevitable, in my mind.

Mostly I missed having someone to do fun things with.

He wasn’t my soulmate, but I thought he was cool.

He talked me into doing two things for him – the aforementioned facial, and spending the night.

As far as the facial went, it was nothing special.  He got his spunk in my eye which burned.  That was about the extent of it.

Cross that off the bucket list.

Spending the night?

Well, that felt way more intimate.

We fell asleep tangled in each other and woke up looking into one another’s eyes.

But in 6 short weeks, I was ghosted by him.

So there I was, stretching myself, trying new things, and playing outside my comfort zone and he can’t even muster an “it’s been nice but…”

I might not have been his dream girl.  Hell, I might not have even been LTR material, but I’ll tell you this. . .

If you cum on a girl’s face, you better say goodbye or else risk being remembered as a total and complete ASS HAT!

Which is ironic, because his name (his honest-to-goodness Israeli name), spelled phonetically, sounds just like ASS HAT.

My first clue that things would end badly. . .


IMG_9409I have a friend.

We’ll call her Natalie.

Natalie and I grew up together and as we transitioned through puberty into adulthood, I noticed something.

I seemed to make very bad decisions where men were concerned whereas Natalie made REALLY GOOD DECISIONS where men were concerned.

She chose to be with men who were very solid, reliable, and kind.

She NEVER screwed up.

I chose disasters.

I once had a boyfriend who dated another woman while we were dating.  And don’t get me started on the HOLY SPECTACULAR MESS that was Dave.  I exited that relationship saying, “I now know what it’s like to love someone and get nothing in return” to which Natalie replied, “But why would you WANT to?”

The Israeli busted a nut in my face and caused temporary damage to my eyesight right before he ghosted me.  And Scott used to send me pictures of him peeing along with comments that my butt was too big and didn’t “hang” right.

My butt is PERFECT, btw.  Just saying.

I lost my virginity to a guy who literally couldn’t get away fast enough.  And in college, my FWB would drop me at the mere suggestion that another woman was interested in him.  That’s how high I rated with him.

So as you can see, I have issues selecting good men to date.

My friends and family all know this about me and try to guide me into making better decisions.  Between my friend Barbara, my sister Lisa, and my cousin Jennifer, I am GETTING SCHOOLED in proper dating requirements.

But you see the men I date.

Not a keeper among them.

And Natalie?

Well, she went and married my brother of all things.

What did I say?

EXCELLENT taste in men!



Goodbye Israeli

IMG_8498The big news for 2016 is that The Israeli is gone.

I’d like to tell you that I know why.   He just up and stopped calling and texting which in my book means “he’s not that into me” so I just let him go by the wayside.

I do have to admit though, I am a little perturbed that he chose to go silent instead of having an adult conversation about it. After all, I did go out and get birth control so that we wouldn’t have to rely solely on his “pull out” method of birth control to keep me from getting knocked up.

And I liked him.


I’m feeling frustrated all over again and am debating on going on a dating moratorium for a few weeks to clear out my system.

I’m just feeling like I’m not that into men right now.

Can you blame me?

Honestly, I’m wishing I was a lesbian.


Some Might Call it Luck

Some might call it luck.

Others might call it kismet.

But as it turned out, when The Israeli and I left St. George Distillery, we stopped at Forbidden Island in Alameda for a cocktail.

Forbidden Island is a kitchy little tiki bar in Alameda that I hardly every get to go to because it’s in fucking Alameda.

When we arrived, we discovered that a band was playing.

Get this….


I’m not making this up.

The Israeli had lots of fun hearing songs played surf style that he normally only hears in Temple.

IMG_8536And I was thrilled to see him enjoying himself so thoroughly.

Also? He bought me a glass of Pyrat Cask 23to sip on and we all know that a pour from a $300+ bottle of rum from Anguilla is pretty much as close to the nectar of the gods as you can get.

IMG_8533What I love most about The Israeli at this point is how different our taste in cocktails are.

I sip on rum, neat while he orders the sweet piña colada.

IMG_8531 IMG_8530

 Before we left, we chatted with the lead singer of the band who got a kick out of that fact that The Israeli was from Israel and we just happened to stumble upon their performance in a tiny little bar in Alameda.


I should say so.

Drinking may cause pregnancy

Just so you know, drinking beer or wine or distilled spirits may actually cause pregnancy.

IMG_8520The Israeli and I were forewarned at St. George Distillery in Alameda on Sunday afternoon.

We went for a tour, what we got was more like a comedy show, with some booze thrown in for fun.

IMG_8521Turns out, the process for making spirits starts out the same for making beer – take your base fruit/grain and mix with a strain of yeast and allow to ferment.

Distilling spirits then goes a step past fermentation and actually distills (or differentially boils) the alcoholic mash to concentrate and collect the alcohol to make spirits.

IMG_8522Brandy, Absinthe, Vodka, Liqueur, and Gin – in the case of St. George Distillery.

Sometimes they make Rum and Whiskey.

The whole process is overseen by Cordelia, the great white shark who is the model for the shark in the movie Deep Blue. Strange but true fact.

IMG_8525Vodka is characterized by the distillation process it goes through.

Gin is characterized by the presence of juniper berries.

Absinthe is characterized by distillation with anise, wormwood, and fennel. Then additional herbs are steeped in it to make absinthe.

IMG_8526And that’s all I remember from the tour.

It was fascinating to see all the different steps involved in making spirits. It takes 30 pears to make a bottle of pear brandy. Pretty amazing!

The Israeli and I had a great time.

I loved translating words that he didn’t understand, like “steep”, and he liked sampling the spirits when the tour was over.

We sat in his car on a cold and windy day in Alameda and ate sandwiches to sober up before going anywhere.

I have to say, I had a great time and so did The Israeli.

He wants to do it again at another distillery and make a weekend out of it.

Who knows?

“Playing Scrabble”

The Israeli and I were in his bedroom getting ready to “play Scrabble.”

Wink, wink!

He turned on his TV and then selected Pandora.

He scrolled down until he came across a “Love Songs” channel and selected that. Nothing like some love songs to put people in the mood to “play Scrabble.”

10 minutes into it, DeBarge started playing “Rhythm of the Night” and I stopped mid game to put an end to it.

I looked all over the bed for the remote, which seemed to be hiding from me.

“What are you looking for?” The Israeli asked.

“I’m looking for the remote. Can we put on some rock music?” I asked.

Sure enough, there was a 90’s Alternative Rock channel and as soon as The Israeli selected it, Nirvana came on.

Smells Like Teen Spirit.

Ah, heaven!

It is much better to play Scrabble listening to Kurt Cobain’s haunting voice than El DeBarge’s candy sweet vocals.

“But this isn’t ROMANTIC,” The Israeli pointed out. “Don’t you want something romantic?”

“Ummmmm…. Not really,” I replied.

And that, dear friends, is how to make me happy when you “play Scrabble” with me!


Easy come, easy go

michelleThat’s the problem with online dating.

It’s so easy to meet someone new that any slight fault or failure in your current paramour and you’re holding up the “NEXT” sign.  Or they are.

The Israeli and I are still going out but I’m not in love with him.

He looks good on paper but in real life I think he just wants a booty call, no strings attached.

The Hunk is still around but has turned into more of a sweet pen pal than a lover and confidant. He swears we’ll get together but no plans materialize. Considering he wants to do lines of coke off my breasts, this may or may not be a bad thing.

I’ve never been much of a girl who falls in love as she slowly gets to know someone.

I’m more of a love at first sight kinda gal.

I’ve always known within a few days of meeting someone whether or not we were headed for relationship territory, booty call land, or the easily forgotten wastelands.

The newest man I am corresponding with is handsome Arizona transplant to the Bay Area. He is the father of two identical 8 year old daughters WHO LOOK LIKE ADORABLE MINI VERSIONS OF ME.

If we were out in public, I swear no one would know that I’m not their mother.

And the thrill of being perceived as the mother of two such beautiful little girls fills me with longing.

Is it okay to say that this man is off the charts when it comes to desirable features and I barely know anything about him.

I should’ve had daughters.

Then I wouldn’t be jonesing at the slightest suggestion of dating a man with DAUGHTERS!

The other man I’m messaging is French and has 3 sons.

Three sons!

Can you imagine family photos with him? Just him, me, and our 5 boys! Whew!

So there you have it. Two in the hopper and two in the chute.

Easy come, easy go.