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Love, Sex and Scandal
Drunk text disappointed
Submitted by MJ on Wed, 05/14/2008 - 10:18.
Dear MJ
I was dating this guy for a few months, and I really liked him. He dropped a bomb on me and ended it giving me the excuse that he didn't want to hurt me but was unclear in his head and shouldn’t be with anybody right now. I was devastated. That was a year ago. He recently texted me at 2am wasted wanting to get together.
I went to his place. He told me everything that I wanted to hear. We had sex that night and in the morning again. I thought for sure things were going to pick up where we left off. He took me out for lunch then dropped me off at home. He wasn't as open with his feelings as he was the night before and hasn’t wanted to see me since. I want to ask him if he really meant the things he said to me, or if they were just part of the act to get me in bed but I’m afraid of the answer.
What should I do?
Signed,
Drunk text disappointed
Dear disappointed,
What should you do? You should delete this guy from your life immediately. He’s just going to keep hurting you otherwise. I’m not saying he’s a bad guy, but he’s confused and doesn’t know what he wants and that uncertainty generally means one person is destined to get hurt. In this case, it’ll inevitably be you.
Listen, I’m sure the guy cares about you. Clearly you still enter his head after a year of being apart because he still had your number in his phone and thought to call you but that doesn’t mean he’s going to finally commit and give you all the things you want. Despite promising them while drunk and looking to get laid…
You’d like some answers and it sounds to me that you are entitled to them. What is with this guy anyway? He dumps you a year ago then TEXTS out of the blue, gushes about his feelings, shags you and then disappears? The nerve! Who wouldn’t want an explanation after all that? I would. So call him up and ask him what the deal is. Don’t be afraid- what’s the worst that can happen? If he gives you the same “I’m not ready for anything” speech again so be it, you will carry on as you were before he came slurring back into your life. Chock it up to a fun night of ex-sex knowing that you tried AGAIN and that he was uncertain AGAIN and you deserve better than that… again!
Oh, and the next time Casanova texts wasted looking for sex, tell him to BEAT IT!
Yours in love,
MJ
E-mail us your questions and problems to:
sexandscandal@shedoesthecity.com
Lez is More
Heroes
Submitted by Anonymous on Mon, 05/05/2008 - 09:14.
by Radcliffe U. Hall
I recently underwent a drastic physical transformation and although I felt like a bangin' new woman I still experienced a gaping hole in my life. Although I could now identify more closely with my favourite cast members of The Real World due to my slightly rustic, yet sexy new tint of skin and the wonderful inclusion of several sailor themed bikinis in my wardrobe, I needed more. It was time to re-evaluate what was important to me. I had grown sick of constantly trying to ensnare women into long committed relationships. With the release of People magazine's 100 Most Beautiful People, I had begun to grow tired of my outrageously successful looks. I put my pedicured foot down and said “no more!” to beauty. Instead, I decided to go on a quest for a better inner self. I spent many hours in my breakfast nook thinking of ways to achieve said inner self. I ruled out playing my acoustic guitar at the local coffee shop. I rejected a meditation retreat and gardening and adopting an orphaned Asian child. I said no to reading all of the literary classics I had avoided and becoming a better member of my community by picking up garbage and hypodermic needles. And I even decided against pleasuring myself with a louffa. Finally I realized that I couldn't improve my self without looking at those who had been most influential in my life and who were obviously better people than me. I narrowed it to a short list of my most coolest heroes.
Boy Diary
May 13, 2008
Submitted by Anonymous on Tue, 05/13/2008 - 13:16.
Dear Diary,
Sorry I haven’t written in a while. I guess I’ve been pretty preoccupied with Mr. X. We’ve been dating for two months now, and we’ve had “the talk” (finally). Basically, he says that he doesn’t want to jump into anything too fast – so even though he’s basically my “boyfriend”, we’re not defining anything right now. Hmmm, that seemed to make more sense in my head than it does in writing. I get it though – he needs to sort some things out in his life before he can get too serious with me. And I’m happy with how things are right now. I still feel like there’s so much more to know about him, yet I feel a strong connection. I definitely see potential for something great with Mr. X. We’ve also said that we don’t want to see other people. Speaking of which…
Homo Arigato Mr. Roboto
Everybody's Workin' for the Weekend
Submitted by Anonymous on Tue, 05/13/2008 - 11:55.
Timeline of last Friday night:
5:00 Meet friends for drinks at pretentious financial district after work bar. Wearing Air Force Ones and jeans because I thought I'd have a casual Friday.
6:30 It's fucking freezing out. This patio gets no sun. Let's go somewhere else!
7:00 This patio is not much better, but I sure do love smoking. Pace yourself my boy, you want to go home first and have a nice little snooze before hitting the town. Maybe eat those delicious chicken fingers and fries you have waiting for you at home...
9:00 Just one more Mojito
9:30 Let's get a bottle Prosecco! I'm buying! No, seriously, I want to! Really! Waitress, here's my credit card. Don't let them pay one penny.
10:30 OK, for serious, we have to go now. Let's go to a gay bar. I think they've got some sort of retro music evening on...
MILF Report
10 things I learned in 9 months
Submitted by Anonymous on Tue, 05/13/2008 - 14:55.
by Daniela Syrovy
I’m one day away from my due date and looking back on my pregnancy these are the things I learned.
1. Sometimes you just don’t know.
I’m at the bank running an errand. When I first walk in I feel like it’s a bit warm inside. I take off a layer of clothing. As I wait for the five people ahead of me to get their banking done my temperature rises just a little bit and I’m thinking they’ve really cranked the heat at the bank.
The next thing I know I’m laying on the bank floor passed out and when I come to the ambulance is already there and EMS workers are asking: are you diabetic? (no), have you eaten today? (yes), do you have any idea why you fainted? (no), do you have a heart condition? (not that I know of). I’m rushed to the hospital on the thought that I have some serious heart condition. My blood pressure is low, my heart is barely beating and I’m under 30 years old. Hours later in the emergency room the doctor comes gliding into my room and says, “Congratulations” and shimmies out.
Congratulations! Congratulations what? Congratulations I’m alive? Congratulations my heart is still pumping?
20 minutes later he returns and after I accost him he says, “Oh you didn’t know?! You’re pregnant! Congratulations.”
Health Class
Caffeine Chic
Submitted by brenna flynn on Thu, 05/01/2008 - 14:53.
Hopefully, after a sleepless night with your hunny (whether you’ve known each other for years or just met at the debauchery that was last night), the three words uttered under your breath are far less romantic than anything experienced the night before. “I need coffee.”
Sure, we’ve all heard it. Coffee stains your teeth, has you running to the ladies room for reasons other than powdering your nose, gives you bad breath, meh, meh, meh. Guess what? Coffee has some deliciously healthy benefits to it too.
Coffee helps to improves alertness, attention and wakefulness making it easier to get to work/school/play after an overly-refreshing evening. Would I suggest consuming a cup of coffee before hitting the sheets? Not unless you’re planning on counting backwards from 500 three or more times.
STD
SEX STEROIDS
Submitted by laurenvalentine on Tue, 05/13/2008 - 11:39.
Recently I was whisked away to Florida on a family vacation, leaving my dude to fend for himself dans our shoe box Toronto apartment. Upon my return we forged into a solid three-day stint of frantically ripping each other's clothes off. It was awesome.
However this sexual smorgasboard was as out of place in our apartment as the dead Fern beside the television (a Christmas gift from his mother that we inevitably killed a month after receiving it). This was because while our cohabitation habits (me wearing his socks, me wearing his sweatshirts, him wearing my underwear - ha kidding! I hope…) had skyrocketed over the past 8 months, our coital count was steadily decreasing. But aside from maxing out my bank account to fly far, far away from him so I can eventually enjoy a brief sexually charged reunion – what's a girl to do?
Six Sexy Things
6 Sexy Things: Making out on a beach, Lingerie, Hotel Sex...
Submitted by MJ on Wed, 05/14/2008 - 10:30.
6. Lingerie shopping
5. Making out on a beach
4. Hotel room sex
3. The song Breathe Me (Mylo re-mix) by Sia
2. Kate Moss’ spread for Agent Provocateur= HOT
1. Being in charge of your own destiny
NOT SEXY
Having somebody beg you for a “peck”= desperate, lame boooo
Red angry-looking gums= gingivitis, dirty double boooo
Special Sex Report
Nightmare Dates: Prom
Submitted by Anonymous on Tue, 05/13/2008 - 11:45.
Urban Dictionary’s definition of prom is: an excuse for horny, young teenagers to get together for a night of drinking, fornication and promiscuity.
This was my prom. In Iqaluit, Nunavut, prom is the ultimate excuse to get down and dirty with alcohol, the opposite sex, and a lot of mosquitoes.
I had always pictured my prom the “Hollywood” way: the jaw-dropping dress, the volumized hair and the perfect date. Up until a few days before my prom, this was my scene.
A Streetcar Named Desire
Submitted by Anonymous on Thu, 05/08/2008 - 15:07.
by Jenny McCracken
What lies beneath is my Monday-evening, post-yoga trauma. I thought you all might enjoy it. And if you don't, screw you.
(Sheesh. i'm kidding. Diane, put down your dukes).
So, there I was, standing at the streetcar stop on Dundas bemoaning the hours upon hours of my life spent on waiting for the TTC, when I saw her. She was a compact package. Shorter than me; about 5’2”, wearing a tight pencil-skirt and fuck-me heels that seemed high enough to boost her into the Heavens, if, you know, Heaven was the place where those College-Girls-Gone-Wild pornos are made (which, of course, it is). She had the kind of body that makes a person—male or female—stop for a second and think, “God, damn”. Boobs out to here, ass out to there. She truly was sex personified: the angles of her calves, the cleavage of her toes bound by those tight, hot stilettos, the arch in her back and the way her hand was obstinately placed on her hip as if to challenge, “Come on, I dare you. I fucking dare you.” If she was a sandwich, she would be slow-roasted pulled-pork on a hot, round, soft bun with spicy peppers and gravy that would drip from the meat, on to your chin and down to your Armani dress shirt and you wouldn’t give a fuck because, holy shit, you’ve never had a sandwich like this before.