Getting him to enjoy arts and crafts week at panty camp

Dear Eve,

My boyfriend of three years absolutely refuses to have sex with me when I am having my period, or should I say he refuses to enter through the front door. Instead, he insists that during that time of the month we switch to anal. I really don’t understand it, he almost seems afraid of my period. I have tried to talk to him about it, but he practically runs from the room when I mention the subject. And before you think I am weird for even caring, we have recently started talking about marriage…but I am really finding myself hung up on this issue! It seems so childish and immature of him, I mean it’s natural! And besides, it is my horniest time of the month! I really don’t want to subject myself to a lifetime of nothing but buttsex during my horniest week of every month!

Thanks,

Blood-lust

Dear Blood-bust,

So…your man fears the red tide. He doesn’t want to hang around when Aunt Flo comes to town. He doesn’t like to saddle old rusty. He doesn’t enjoy arts and crafts at panty camp. He’s a-scared of vagina blood. What a pansy!

Sadly, many men are like this, so I wouldn’t be too quick to toss this particular one back. It’s not even his fault really, society has trained men to fear all things labeled “women troubles.” It’s a survival tactic, passed down from generation to generation. Though it is true that some women find that rare evolved man who doesn’t get squirrelly at the sight of a little VB, those men seem to be an exception, not a rule.

The trouble is, you’re right…this can be a time of great sex in the monthly cycle. Our hormones are raging; this makes us not only crave sex in a big way, but also puts us in a better position to achieve exceptional orgasms. And sex helps cramps, you selfish bastards!

So first ask your man this: Would he rather risk his precious penis getting some e-coli jammed in the pipe? The blood is not going to hurt him…having poop particles up his urethra however, that CAN hurt big time. I would tell you to ask a guy I know about that but I doubt he would want to be identified here today. So lets move on…to you.

Yes, you…you aren’t innocent either, Ms. Bloody Mary! If this is such a tremendous and rule breaking issue for you, why did you wait THREE years to deal with it? You have CONDITIONED him to his monthly butt-sex week and now you want to make issue of it? Foolish girl. It’s alright though; you have come to your senses and are ready to stand up for yourself…better late than never. So let’s talk about the best way to have period sex with a squeamish fellow:

We all know that sex during the great flood can be a tad messy. But it’s really not that difficult to get around that. Use your human ingenuity, people. A couple of old towels can help you deal with most of that mess. Lay one beneath you, and keep one nearby, to help Mr. Red Scare there clean the peen. Dim the lights too. These simple steps really should eliminate most of his physical issues. And I can’t really deal with the psychological stuff here; I’m just a girl with a website. Anyhow, if he reads the steps above and is still freaked, try sex in the shower. Tell him to keep his eyes off the drain and on you so he won’t have to see any of that icky girl matter. Freakin’ wimp.

Worse case scenario, just masturbate. A lot. The whole week. In the shower, in bed, wherever and whenever you can. Let him see how excitable you are during this time…it might help. Certainly couldn’t hurt.

And really, don’t wait for years to talk about relationships issues, sexual or otherwise. You have put up with this unpleasant monthly problem approximately 36 times already in your relationship…no wonder you are seeing red!

So talk it out with him, and god as my witness, Miss Scarlett will return to Tara but you will not go unsatisfied again!

Because like I said…worse case scenario…let your fingers do the walking…fiddle dee dee…a girls gotta do…

Love and kisses,

Eve

Holding Off on the Hug Jamboree

As many of you know, I am currently involved in a long distance relationship. While my mans and I have a pretty decent handle on emotional closeness, sometimes I just miss the physical touch of another human being. Not sexual necessarily…just…bodily contact with another adult-type person.

Now, now, stop raising the eyebrows; I would never, I repeat, NEVER cheat on my boyfriend. But the other day whilst surfing along the cyber waves I came across an article about something that gave me pause…“cuddle parties.” Of course I had to investigate further.

So I ended up on a site appropriately named oc-cuddle.com. These people came across like touch-pushers; going on and on about how unhealthy it is to not be getting your daily dose of nutritious and delicious man-handling. Uh oh, thought I. Am I going to become a touch-anemic?? Do I need the kind of relief only a G-rated hug jamboree can bring??

But the deeper my reading got, the more deeply disturbed I felt. I quickly realized this stuff = not for Trista. And you know I don’t like to feel creeped out alone, so I am going to drag you down into the world of squeeze-soirées with me! Whee!

First off, you’ll want to know that these folks do have some ground rules, 15 of them to be exact. You can read them all on their site, but I decided to discuss a few of ‘em with you. (My commentary is in red…)

• Pajamas stay on the whole time. - This ain’t no nekkid party folks! Thems down the hall…

• No SEX. (Yep, you read that right.) - Again, may I refer you to that party down the hall…

• Kissing and nuzzling, as well as other forms of touch, are allowed, but you must ask permission and receive a verbal YES before you touch anyone. - Now, when they say other forms of touch, do they mean “got your nose!” touching, or “oops, I accidentally pinned you down under me with my hand on your vagina!” touching? What’s the difference you ask? You are so not invited to my cuddle party…

• You don’t have to cuddle anyone at a Cuddle Party, ever. - Sweet! All you voyeurs out there, you can go to watch people…hug…that oughta be a hoot.

• NO DRY HUMPING! - Are you getting the asexual vibe here? Cuz I am starting to…

• If you’re in a relationship, communicate and set your boundaries and agreements BEFORE you go to the Cuddle Party. Don’t re-negotiate those agreements/boundaries during the Cuddle Party. (Trust us on this one.) - “Well baby, I know I said I wasn’t gonna touch no one’s boobalies but yours, but look at that woman’s boobalies! No baby, really…would you just look at her luscious…where ya going…?”

• Get your Cuddle Lifeguard On Duty or Cuddle Caddy if there’s a concern, problem, or question or should you feel unsafe or need assistance with anything during the Cuddle Party. - Your cuddle lifeguard? In case you are drowning in a sea of pathetic? And what is the caddy for…to bring you a four iron to clunk people in the head in case the freaks go native on you?

• Crying and giggling are both welcomed and encouraged. - Just not at the same time, because, well, that’s creepy…even for gropers-r-us.

• Be hygienically savvy. - No one likes doggy breath in a puppy pile!

Anyhow folks, you get the idea. I know I am being a tad harsh, but what I found in my exploration filled me with a hard core case of the heebie-jeebies. I realized something about myself while perusing the site, I really am not comfortable with the idea of rolling around on the floor with a bunch of pajama clad strangers.

So what kind of people DOES this concept appeal to?

I mean, really? Instead of creating intimacy with people in your life, you have to pay 30 bucks to be touched by an unfamiliar?? I suppose I should be proud of y’all for making your way out of your grandma’s basement, but come on! This doesn’t seem like pro-touch healing to me, but more like a scam that is feeding off the lonely and socially stunted.

Maybe the founders are right…maybe we are living in a touch-deprived society. But thinking about that statement makes me want to go pick up my kids and hug them…not pay to pet a stranger…(especially the kind of strangers willing to hand over money to be fondled by people they don’t know…)

So, to each their own and all that, but this is one social scene I shall not be exploring further. I will look fondly to the day when I can be spooned (and get forked) by my boyfriend again, but until then the only snuggling up I am going to be doing is with my own pillow. And thanks to cuddle.com I feel 100% better about the waiting.

So my friends, what do you think about this? Are you just a fluffy-wuffy cuddle bunny looking for a place to get petted? Or are you thinking this is perhaps a wee bit creepy? Would you pay 30 smackers to get touched by a stranger? Do you believe that grown-ass adults should get involved with something called puppy piles? I need to know!

The spendthrift and the weirdo

Previously on “Love-fucked” you were introduced to the Texan and the Age-d Internet Starlet. They began their unconventional romance on the pages of a social networking site…while living over 1000 miles apart. Last we saw these two fledgling lovebirds they were about to embark upon a new leg of the journey into amore’…the telephone call. We now Join T as she not so patiently waits for B to pick up the damn phone…

(T’s thoughts will be black, her dialogue in purple, and B’s dialog, blue.)

B: Hello
Rawr, sexy voice, bonus. Except…
T: You don’t sound anything like Gonzo….
He claimed to sound like the big-nosed blue muppet. And he doesn’t. He lied? So he’s a LIAR! Hello, red flag!
B: And you don’t have Ms. Piggy’s 401k, what’s your point?
Well, THAT was rude! He has no clue how much money I have saved…Wait! Is he saying I seem like a spendthrift? This conversation is already wrong, wrong, wrong!
T: How do you know about my finances, hmm, chief?
B: Well, I’m flipping through you’re bank statements right now…and I used to date Ms. Piggy…so I don’t know, call it an educated guess.
T: Hahahahha… (sigh)
I laugh, but I want to cry. What the Hell? FREEAAAK! Now I don’t know if he is a stalker…or a plain ol’ weirdo.
T: Oh yeah, well where do I spend the most money then, smartie?
B: Hmmm…. coffee shops, taco stands… self help books? Like most Californians I reckon…yep.
T: Whatever…
Shiiit, how’d he KNOW? I need to go back through the e-mails…hold on, did he just say “I reckon??” Yep…

Completely out of character, I had taken this strange young squire from the Southwest’s phone number. And I had actually called it. Because he baited me…over and over! And like a dumb animal I took the bait… over and over! Now here we were on the phone, and he was doing it yet again. And for some reason quite beyond my understanding…I was enjoying it. Was I being brainwashed?

I awoke in the morning with the phone stuck to my face and a 9 hour conversation hangover. What had just happened? The night before was a blur of oddly intoxicating ideas, strange voices and backhanded compliments. I mean, this man actually accused my vagina of being a planet eating black hole…and instead of getting mad, I giggled like a damn school girl!

That night I talked to him again. Then we talked again the next night, and so on for week after week. I found him to be weird and pushy and borderline obsessive…and still, I found myself lamenting when I missed a call or e-mail from him. Until…

B: I should move out there
Aauch-haa! Look at B, getting quick with the funnies. Alright, sucka-butt!
T: Heh… yeah and then you can do me everyday, and we can play monopoly with the old hippies down at Venice Beach.
B: Yeah I think it’s doable. I’d have to get a job though. Hmmm.
What, not even a chuckle? Still, he’s got aaalll kinds a’jokes tonight. I can top him…riiiiight now, watch-this-shit…
T: Mmmhhmmmm…You can totally get a job as a head waiter at the fancy French restaurant nearby and whisk me and the kids into a world of curmudgeonly chefs and salacious gossip, n’est-ce pas?
B: That’s a great idea…I have waiting experience…that’s a good starter job. I can pick up another one…and I can live with you! Yeah…you have room, right?
Wait, is he trying to one-up me here? Because he’s not being very joke-y. In fact, he seems kinda serious…
T: Umm, wha? Well, uhhh, ummm, too bad you cannot survive in LA without a car…lovely idea though…perhaps instead we can both run away and join the cir…
B: I’ll buy one… I’m going to look into plane tickets.
What the…?
T: B, can you call I call you back I’ve got hair in my washing mach-iiit..I meanIgot…I got clothes in the sh…iiit. I gotta wash my laundry and do hair. M’kay Bye bye.
B: Okaa…(Click) ?
T: (dial tone…)
B: Hello….THE? Where art thou? C’mon you didn’t really hang up…hello?

Okay…this just got crazy. This…this… cyber-stranger is trying to BUY PLANE TICKETS! He’s talking about MOVING IN WITH ME!! Where’s my inhaler…wait, I don’t even have asthma…but I can’t breathe!

I had to think, and fast…and so my mind went to the one thing that seemed to scare off every guy in my life since I was 12 years old… ( dun dun dun)

MY DAD!

• Is B seriously going to fly out to California…and if so what discount ticket sight will he utilize?

• Will T recover from her panicked state?

• Is her father as scary as Wilfred Brimley?

• What other celestial bodies might we find in T’s vagina?

Tuuuuuuune in next time….for the next addition of love fucked!

What’s the biggest risk you’ve taken for love? Would you move 1000 miles to live with someone you’ve never actually met? How fast is too fast? Are these two crazy kids making a huge mistake? Would you have kept talking to this weirdo? Thoughts, folks!

Jones-ing For Happiness

“Your own mind is a sacred enclosure into which nothing harmful can enter except by your permission.”
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

I read somewhere that the average human thinks somewhere between 20,000 - 60,000 thoughts per day. That right there is a whole lot of thinking. As a person who probably leans towards the larger number, I am finally starting to recognize the power my thoughts…and their ability to shape my world. Now, now…stop rolling your eyes at me, people…I used to be a doubter too…but I have recently seen the error of my ways. So hear (read?) me out, and allow me to share some of my recently fostered, get happy habits.

• Happiness isn’t really about what is happening at all…it’s about how we are reacting to what is happening. Drop your ice cream on the sidewalk? Well shit, your thighs probably didn’t need that Jamocha Almond Crunch anyway. Stuck in traffic? Clearly you could benefit from some “alone” time (buzz, buzz). Positive reframing is vital.

• When you are calm on the inside, things seem a little more serene outside too. Of course there is always going to be some chaos…because, well, that’s life. But be smart, be like a scientist, and subscribe to the Chaos Theory. There is order in the chaos…learn to see yours. And soon you will realize that though the morning routine of get up, get washed, brush teeth, eat breakfast, pack lunch, grab things, get to the car and get going may be a bit hectic, there is a natural rhythm to it too. Find it, own it, and be calm within it. It’ll save your voice, your sanity, and your disposition.

• You are what you think…so be careful. When I was still married and miserable, I went to see my doctor, and told her I couldn’t sleep. She told me I was depressed…I was anxious…I had a sleeping disorder…and she gave me a wad of prescriptions. And I thought, “Oh my gawd, she must be right, I must be depressed and anxious and harboring a sleeping disorder!” I thought about it and I thought about it…and I felt worse and worse. I took more pills, and stronger ones at that. But I didn’t feel better, not really, until I got out of my marriage and off the pills. I couldn’t be happy until I got out of the situation and thought process that was causing my misery. No pill was going to do that for me.

• Like attracts like. This is why I think of myself as, say…a boomerang juggler. Yes, it’s weird but just go with it. See, I am constantly throwing these thought boomerangs out there, and what I launch out is coming right back at me. This is why you want to make sure you are throwing out love and positivism, rather than thoughts of debt or disappointment or dismemberment. Really…nobody likes a surprise visit from the dismemberment fairy.

• When guilt dissolves you can finally evolve! Seriously…guilt is like plaque; nasty, yellow gooey stuff, clogging up your life. Because my sister died at 16, I had trouble enjoying all of life’s little milestones that should have been pure joy. Even the birth of my children was bittersweet; because I got to do something my big sis was not afforded. But then I realized that my sister would be completely pissed at me for this bullshit behavior. In a way I was cheating her all over again by allowing guilt to steal the joy. I have since apologized, and let go. I feel like I am moving forward, and oddly enough my cholesterol levels are better…coincidence?

I am far from perfect on this positive thinking stuff, but practice is definitely helping me to get closer to my more perfect self. Today I might only have 797 of those 60,000 thoughts end up negative…and tomorrow will be even less. I have faith in this the way I have faith that Jesus Jones will never, ever make a comeback. And the way I have faith that right here, right now, there is no other place I want to be…

Now what say you kids? Is happiness something that you work at does it just come naturally? Do you struggle with negativity? Do you think I am becoming cheesy in my old age? Do you think Jesus Jones will actually ever make a comeback?

Undoing the bible belt or chided by chastity?

Dear Eve,

I’m writing to you because I don’t really have anyone I trust to give me an honest opinion. I’ve read enough over at your site to know that you’re not going to take it easy on me or jump to conclusions and scold me because ..well, you don’t know me.. My problem is this… I am twenty, and a virgin… but it’s getting harder and harder to wait. I am already engaged even though we don’t plan on getting married until after college. My faith is very important to me and saving myself for marriage is the best gift I can possibly ever give my future sweetheart… so I was wondering if perhaps you had some practical advice that might make the waiting a little more bearable, lol.

And p.s I’m not as religious as you might think so you don’t have to censor yourself for me..

Impatiently Patient

Dear Chastity McBiblebelt,

I find it incredibly amusing that you say you are familiar with our fair site and yet you still chose to write to us about keeping your virginity. Personally I think virginal status is best left to olive oil, and yet here we are…just you and me… (And the thousands of readers, but pay them no mind)… so lets talk.

Clearly you have a belief system that you are very secure with, and though it is very much different from my own, I shall respect it rather than ignore your question and make fun of you at next months agnostic pot-luck (I’m not really sure how I feel about going to those…no one ever knows what to bring…but I digress.)

And out of respect for our differing opinions I will not go into detail about how your religious beliefs are in line with the beliefs of people who believe that dinosaurs were some kind of god-inspired logic test on the importance of faith. Nor will I talk about how incredibly important sexual compatibility is to a healthy and happy marriage or how denying yourself pleasure might be considered a sin by some. Because that’s not why you wrote me, now is it? No, you wrote me to complain about the rigors of abstinence while hoping to filch some tips on keeping your legs closed…from the likes of me. *Whistling the Twilight Zone theme*

Anyway, here at Eve-101 we believe in giving the people what they want! And what you want is ways to make your self-imposed torture bearable, so with that in mind, I shall do my best. But Jesus…I’m no miracle worker! (did ya see what I did right there? Heh..ehm.)

Okay…

Masturbate
Don’t be telling me that you don’t do it, first of all, because we all do. Sure, some of you religious types might cry in the shower afterward but you still do it. So you…yeah you, little Miss Mcdiddles-not, do it, and do it often! And if your morality starts to get the best of you, be grateful that the shower drain is there to erase all evidence of your sinful tears. Because let’s face it; you need to get to know yourself sexually somehow. And if he is remaining a virgin (hahahahaha…ehm) he is definitely going to need the pointers come honeymoon time.

Volunteer
You do-gooders just love volunteering, right? So keep yourself busy, and avoid those pesky sins of the flesh you Christians are always supposedly burning in hell for, by helping the needy! As an added bonus: dirty, hairy, smelly homeless men are bound to turn you off of the penis. Just make sure you quit this activity 6-8 weeks before marriage time…you will need some time to coax your vagina out of hiding. You might also want to think about a Xanax prescription too, if you’re having trouble erasing the mental stamp of Karl the Crusty Bridge Wino out of your mind .

Join an all-girls sports league

Nothing helps sexual frustration quite like a little physical exertion. Besides, you will be getting healthier and stronger; and everyone wants to look good in that wedding dress, right? And think about the life-long bonds that will be forged between you and these women…hmmm-kay, you don’t want to be off the cock forever, perhaps you should avoid softball, might want to steer clear of joining a cycling club too, just to be safe. I also hear Badminton is making a comeback…

Hopefully I have helped you in some way, my simple little puritan. But let me leave you with just one more thing to consider. Take the church and state out of this and look at the man you are engaged to be married to. You both know how you feel about each other, so don’t let anyone else cloud your decision. The marriage certificate is just a piece of paper; the church is just a building. The bond is between you two. If you both want to wait, more power to you. But if you are doing it because you’ve been told it is the thing to do, well, perhaps rethink it. A new marriage is hard enough without adding potential sexual issues into the mix.

Besides, I do my best praising of the lord between the sheets and I’ve yet to be struck by lightening…so you should check into it.

Hallelujah!

Love and kisses, Eve

SO what do you think folks, can I get an AMEN? Or should our non-secular starlet be praised for her steadfastness? What impact if any does religion have on your sex life? How old were you when you finally parted the curtains and invited the crowd in for the show?

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