Mis(s) Matched

During the evolution of on line dating it was the ultimate breeding ground for…well, breeding; or at least practicing the art of breeding. The plethora of options was limitless and everyone seemed to show up with their A-game. There was an insurmountable collection of perfection with every click of the mouse. But alas, all good things must come to an end and year after year the number of worthy adversaries was dropping like flies. And then along came the summer of the triple threat that nearly endangered my already perilous dating life.

Enter bachelor number one. Match.com’s simplistic rating system gave us a ninety-two percent compatibility factor and being as how I was on the verge of finalizing my second divorce anything over fifty percent seemed to be a step in the right direction. We did the usual interweb dating song and dance…he winked, I replied and before I knew it we had scheduled the “meet and greet.”  Thrilled with the anticipation of sipping coffee over lingering glances with a former Calvin Klein underwear model, the day couldn’t arrive soon enough.

As per usual, all went off without a hitch, but then again, I’d practically perfected the meet and greet. Give just enough information with subtle innuendos to grab his attention. Look cute, but not high maintenance. If he’s tall wear stilettos, if not, flip-flops… just to ensure there’s no awkward first kiss height issues. Throw a few ego stroking compliments his way, laugh at his jokes and be sure to end the festivities before the conversation had time to get stale. Honestly, it’s really not all that difficult, and I’m fairly certain a monkey could do it. So there he was, Mister Hawter than Hawt, eating out of the palm of my hand and booking another go round before I had time to thank him for the triple café mocha.

Date two likened the first, except this particular evening I was hit with the “next week is my Birthday” bomb. Cripes! Really, so soon? I should have paid more attention to his zodiac sign, but his half nekkid photos distracted me from the important issues like… don’t start dating someone who’s about to celebrate anything. Before I knew it I was stuck in a quandary as to how much cash to drop on his six pack abs. Not only was this going to be the all important third date, but I had to make it special for a quasi stranger who I had little more in common with than his DNA that he’d left in my mouth.

Being a sucker for twinkling eyes, a Colgate smile and an ass that I could rest my library books on, I opted to suck it up and make reservations at his favorite sushi restaurant in the Hollywood Hills… and I don’t even like sushi! It was a beautiful night, with an amazing view of the debauchery on Sunset Boulevard. Sadly, by the time we ordered appetizers we’d started to enter… the quiet zone. Without warning we’d run out of things to say and considering the circumstances we couldn’t ignore the silence and jump straight to the all important third date hump-a-thon. As I suppressed another yawn all I could think about was bypassing the formalities and getting at least one good romp for the dough I was shelling out to eat a meal that made me want to vomit.

Startled back to reality by the waitress with a plate full of raw fish and seaweed I was certain things couldn’t get any worse…and then I heard, “I have something I need to tell you.” Oh c’mon, seriously? Now you want to talk? Now you want to confess your childhood masturbation habits? What? What do you want to tell me, Mr. You’d Be Much Cuter Naked Man? Of course he did his best to prepare me with his rendition of some football mishap or another. (Honestly, I was halfheartedly listening while trying to ignore the eyeballs on my plate.) Perhaps in hindsight I should have paid more attention because before I knew it my 6′3 man of steel was removing his pearly whites and putting them in the front pocket of his shirt!

Now, I’d like you to take a moment and think about not only the horror that my super model date had suddenly turned into Elmer Fudd, but how incredibly difficult it is to not stare at a gaping black holed grill. Let me tell you, folks, there was nothing pretty about the way he gummed those oysters like a baby latched on to a lactating nipple.

Needless to say, that was my last date with Mc Hawterson. Not because of his lack of enamel, but because the bastard actually had the audacity to place an extra order to go…on my tab!

Let’s hear it kids. Have you ventured into the online dating realm, and if so, was it a glorious adventure or a horrific tale? And more importantly, would you date a 30-something with dentures?

The fun and not-so-good times are just getting started, stay tuned in the coming weeks for Bachelors 2 and 3 in the mini-series of Mis(s)-Matched.

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?

Bursting another fantasy bubble…

Lesbians.

It has come to my attention that lesbians get people riled up. Well, they get men riled up, because who doesn’t like to see some hot girl-on-girl action? Okay, maybe they just get me all hot and bothered…or they did, until of course I had the chance to see many a lesbian couple in real life. For the most part, they are not clones of Jenna Jameson, Janine, or Chasey Lain, all itching to start fingering each other and licking their fingers at whichever red light they may come to in their ‘65 Mustang convertible after all.

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Touchy touchy!

Orgasmathon Recapped

Well, kids…we did it again. Well, I did it again…Karri did it for the first (and last!) time. We went for the gold and we achieved it! Ah…but at what a cost. Our sanity, our sex drives, our reproductive organs…all were put to the test during Orgasmathon 08.

(In more innocent times…)

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