One D at a Time

Wet 'N Wild

Today, I wrote about female ejaculation for Jezebel. It includes the first time I squirted, as well as an explanation of what the fluid is that comes out, and where the hell it's coming from. Check it out here!

A Breakdown in Communication, Part 2

OK, so the dude that I wrote about who sent me that series of bizarre and inappropriate MySpace messages is totally freaking out right now. And you know what that means—more messages and emails! He's pissed because I posted a screen shot of one of the messages he sent me. I blurred out his name and picture, but he's like completely bugging because he seems to think that people can see what it says or make out his face. The thing is, the only people who would figure it out are people who know his MySpace page really well. People like his girlfriend I guess? I mean, it's not like future employers or whatever are reading the archives of this blog, looking for blurred out thumbnails that resemble him. Anyway, here is the first of the new batch of messages he sent me:

8:45 AM
Subject: Picture
Can you just take my picture off of your blog?   It could really fuck my life up.

I ignored it. And he didn't like that one bit.

Stoner Advice

So, I have this column on Jezebel called Pot Psychology, in which people send in questions and I answer them while stoned. It had always been a written column before, but this time around Alex Goldberg and I made it into a video, which co-stars Rich. Anyway, go check it out.

Kokie Monster

Everyone heard about Kokie’s the same way: “Hey, have you been to Kokie’s? It’s a COKE bar called KOKIE’S!”

Vice just published a great oral history on one of my old haunts—Kokie's, a bar on Berry and N. 3rd that served low-grade cocaine out of a "DJ booth," and sometimes, alternately, a utility closet. (The location is now a bar called The Levee.) I mostly went there circa 1999 - 2001. It was about a tenth as classy as the picture above would indicate. I seem to remember dirty walls and folding tables and chairs in the back room. There would usually be Hispanic people dancing to like salsa music or something along those lines. In the front, on the bar, there was a water cooler and little plastic cups for all the people who were there to blow the last of their evening's cash on blow. I actually would never really hang out there. I was always quickly in and out, because I was often by myself, and well aware that I attracted the wrong kind of attention. That was back when I was really into dressing like a party extra from Bachelor Party, so I was usually in fishnets, fake lashes, a ratty rabbit fur coat and a pleather skirt. I looked like a hooker straight outta 1984.

A Breakdown in Communication

I get some strange emails from people who contact me through this site. None of them really affect me.  (Well, except in the case of this one lesbian/tranny crazy druggie weirdo who was harassing me online for a bit before she/he/it was apparently committed to some kind of institution.) For the most part, I tend to be contacted by dudes looking to get laid because they assume that I'm a sure thing since I write about how I like sex. Actually, here's some kind of SMS with a phone number attached that I just got today.

"A tell me wat u think of my dick i need a girls oppinion im 18 i would like it if u could send me a pic of ur pussy im into phone sex if u want to exchange pics"

I mean, this could be spam. It's always kind of difficult to discern between real emails and sex spam, because a lot of the content is totally relevant to me and what I write about. But something about this tells me it's real. Seriously though, for the record, just because I like fucking, doesn't mean that I like fucking everyone.

Anyway, I recently received a thread of messages on MySpace from a guy that I slept with a handful of times seven years ago. He was always socially awkward, to the point where it was kinda painful to experience. And it looks like some things never change!

I Met Dr. Ruth!

She was eating in Cosi on 13th and Broadway all by herself. I went up to her and asked her about period sex. Read all about it here.

NYE Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

This post is archived.

If Nothing Else, At Least I Got To Have Sex On New Year's Eve

This post is archived.