ER: “I write about sex and dating on the internet.”

London guy 1: “You want something new to write about?”

+++

ER: “I write about sex and dating on the internet.”

Edinburgh guy: “What’s wrong with just doing it? Is it some kind of bullshit therapy thing?”

+++

ER: “I write about sex and dating on the internet.”

Dublin guy: “I don’t use the internet outside of work. You want another drink?”

+++

ER: “I write about sex and dating on the internet.”

Spanish guy: “Que?”

+++

ER: “I write about sex and dating on the internet.”

London guy 2: “I really don’t want to have my name associated. You should have said you were a journalist. I have to go – you publish about me and I’ll sue. My family has great lawyers, so I’m warning you.”

+++

I’m being  flippant, but the realisation that sex is still a taboo for many people came as a surprise to me. Even with the traditional British reserve, my social circle was open without being vulgar while discussing such topics as the merits of rimming or a recent boyfriend’s cum face.

Potentially, many of those from whom I have encountered hostility, suspicion and on occasion, fear; do have a circle with whom they can discuss such matters. Perhaps it is just the fact that these are being published to a wider audience via this site that causes them such horror.

It does seem that sex has remained a taboo for many people. That those who wish to share experiences, knowledge or ideas are seen as deviant or in some way flawed. Yet this is in a society where sex is used to sell toothpaste, cars, bank accounts; basically everything. Sex is everywhere. And yet it seems it shouldn’t be talked about openly and publicly?

If we are going to counterbalance the constant sexualisation of our media and culture; isn’t an open dialogue a key to that? And in a world of internet searches, socia media and wikis; doesn’t it make sense that it would be an online dialogue?

Or maybe I should stop telling drunk horny boys by way of  a shock tactic to get them to stop looking at my boobs. That could be part of the problem…

Boy meets Girl. Girl looks like something out of Essence or Jet magazine. Boy likes Girl. Girl meets Boy and feels the same. Boy wants to get her naked. Girl is amenable. Boy asks Girl out. Girl agrees to dinner, drinks and then…Girl lives a 45 minute drive away. Boy hates driving, but is willing to travel for Girl. Boy picks up Girl. Girl looks even better than Boy remembered. Girl gets into car wearing tight jeans, sexy boots and a fitted turtleneck sweater. Girl flashes million dollar smile. Boy watches the curve of her lips. Boy ogles the curves of her body. Boy thanks God that he wore boxer briefs instead of boxers.

Girl says that she needs to stop at the mall. Girl says she has to buy new outfit for a function. Girl asks if that’s ok. Boy is too busy imagining sucking on Girl’s breasts to care. Boy says sure. Boy and Girl arrive at mall. Boy watches Girl try on an outfit. And then another. And another. And a next one. And one more. Girl drags boy to another store. And then another. And another. And a next one. And then one more. Boy watches girl repeat the cycle. Girl runs out of stores to visit. Girl is frustrated.

Boy and Girl start walking back to car. Girl starts to get emotional. Girl then starts to sniffle. Girl starts to choke up. Boy asks Girl if Girl is ok. Girl says nothing. Girl starts to weep. People start watching Boy and Girl. People look at Boy with a ‘wonder what he did to her’ look. Girl graduates from weeping to “wailin”. Boy doesn’t know what to do. People ask if Girl is ok. Boy says I don’t know. Girl graduates from “wailin” to “cow bawlin’”. Boy receives more dirty looks from people.

Boy is now nervous. Boy doesn’t know what to do. Boy and Girl walk past Baskin Robbins. Boy thinks that everyone loves ice cream. Boy asks Girl if she wants ice cream. Girl pauses for a second. Girl resumes “cow bawlin’”. Boy and Girl get to car. Boy drives Girl home. Girl gets out of Boy’s car. Girl hops into her own car. Boy drives away home. Girl drives away to parts unknown. Boy never sees Girl naked.

Boy learns this:

I scream. You scream. We all do not scream for ice cream.

My Most Stimulating Date Ever.

I’m basically new to the dating scene, as I was out of circulation, in a seven year relationship up until recently. Now that I’m back in the game, I have to say that things are really different. It seems that technology and the internet have changed the rules a fair bit. Luckily, I’m a woman who readily embraces change…

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Earlier this year, my girl friend Susan, was going on and on about how great the writing of a male erotica writer, she’d discovered was. She had discovered this writer, who I’ll call X, when she stumbled upon his blog one day while she was killing some time online.

“Girl, X is such a wonderful writer. His stuff is so sexy. You should really check out his blog. I know you’ll love it,” she gushed, almost every time we spoke. “I think that if you two ever connected you’d really hit it off.”

Yeah, whatever. “Okay, I’ll check it out soon.” I’d say dismissively. Susan is a real romantic and I wasn’t about to get swept away in her fantasy. Also, as well as she knows me, she could hardly say she knew anything about X, so how the hell would she know if we would hit it off? Besides what people post on their blogs doesn’t always reflect who they are in real life, right? Little did I know that Susan’s prediction about me and X would prove to be completely right.

When I finally got around to reading X’s blog on a particularly cold February afternoon, I was pleasantly surprised when I saw his picture on his About Me page. Mmmmm. Yummy! Not bad on the eyes at all. I started to read his first post and soon realized that X was much more than a pretty face. I sat reading for hours, as I sipped my wine, completely mesmerized by the passion conveyed in his stories. It seemed every word had been carefully chosen to form each of the perfectly crafted sentences that sent waves of titillating stimulation to my brain.

Someone out there thinks the same way I do! X was clearly open-minded, intelligent, and articulate. I relished every word as if they were tiny spoonfuls of a chocolate sundae, and I licked my lips in satisfaction, with every enticing thought they brought me. I was so moved by X’s writing that I left him a comment. I can’t remember what I said, but I must have made an impression, because moments later I received an email from him. When I saw his message waiting for me in my inbox, I was truly shocked. I read his message and replied, and for awhile we engaged in small talk over email. But then, one day he asked me to DM him on twitter. I was nervous. All I could think was, “Why would this amazing, handsome, intelligent, and articulate man want to keep talking to me?” Despite my doubts about how well things would go, I agreed to chat with him anyway.

To my surprise it all went well. For the first time in a long time I was actually inspired by a conversation I had with a man. I enjoyed every minute of it. During our discussion no subject was taboo and everything we discussed was interesting. In one moment it was so raw I could feel my body percolating, and in the very next I’d be laughing uncontrollably at one of his ridiculous jokes.

I was so intrigued by X, and I marveled at the fact that I could be so turned on by a man without being able to touch him, hear his voice or even see him. Never before had a conversation (face to face, on the phone or otherwise) with a man left me feeling excited, energized and soooo damn horny.

It felt like time stood still as we chatted that day and I didn’t want it to end. Apparently X felt the same way, because when the sun rose the next morning we were still at it. I was really tired but I couldn’t bring myself to end our chat. I was afraid to let X, my salacious provocateur, go for fear that we would never connect like that again. I hoped that our chat would not just be a one time thing…

–

Sorry folks, but I’m going to have to leave you guessing on whether X and I connected again. After all, a girl has to have some secrets. But my long DM session with him reaffirmed something already knew. The brain is the sexiest organ we have, and mine was fucked over and over again that night. I was on a different plane as we spoke, nothing else mattered. To have had the chance to see, touch, and kiss him would simply have been the cherry topping on my chocolate sundae. Just an extra added bit of delicious.

.
Yum.

Partaking in pain as pleasure is a personal choice. I like a spanking to frame my orgasm with a short, sharp slap. Others may like something a little more intense and indulge in nipple clamps, beatings, gimp suits and the like. These folks may need a safe word – a word or phrase unlikely to be used in normal sexual conversation that signals a true end to the event. Choosing to use phrases like the obligatory “Oh stop, no, no, that hurts” are unlikely to work, as they are often said during bedroom romps, even when you may not really want your partner to stop.

Being the helpful sort, I have come up with some suggestions for suitable safe words you can use the next time you dabble (I know – I just spoil you)…

1. Maggie Thatcher on a cold day – one to yell at the top of your voice, repeatedly.
2. Hosepipe Ban – something seasonal for the South of England.
3. This is a passenger announcement – nothing more annoying than a travel interruption.
4. The British are coming – yes, we are.
5. Autofrettage – a word that means boring metal tubes; but sounds kind of dirty.
6. Geronimo – the old ones are the best!
7. Gerbils! – urban myth or Richard Gere’s hobby… it can be yours too.
8. Cowabunga – Bart Simpson or Nick Hornby, both worthy to quote.
9. Crouch. Touch. Pause. Engage. – for the rugby fans.
10. Yellow Card – for the sports fans.
11. Your Mum – take the wind out of anyone’s seductive sails.
12. Alright treacle! – in faux cockney accent.
13. Respect my authority – if it works for Cartman…
14. I ain’t getting on no plane – if they can remake the A-Team, I can steal the catchphrases for my sex life.

I have a confession. A few weeks ago due to some intense lust/like I was feeling I broke my number one dating rule – no dating younger men. Silly as it may seem to some of you this rule has served me well for much of my dating life. In any case, against my better judgement I decided to date this 30 year old guy, who I’m going to call The Kid (you’ll see why in a minute), who I’d been crushing on for over a year.

We ended up going out about half a dozen times and every date was great. He was always a gentleman, super polite and attentive. Our dates would usually start off with some intense conversation about the events of the day, our writing, and/or books we loved, followed by some solid make out sessions. Besides his being a bit coquettish between our dates, it seemed The Kid liked being around me as much as I enjoyed being with him. I was just about ready to pitch my longstanding and for the most part unwavering rule about dating young dudes out the window, until the night he earned his name. The night he sent me the following text…

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TK: Hey sweetie how u doing. I’m here with my boy eating some food. I wanted to see your sweet self tonight. I promise to be a good boy. I will do anything u ask. Hope you had a good night so far.

WTF? (FYI: When I received the text I’m sure I read it a few hundred times. I was that confused. The Kid never ever spoke to me like that and sexting – even something as soft core as what appeared on my screen that night – was so not his style.) Maybe he’s drunk? What to do? Hmmm…Play along and see what happens next?

Skye: Re your promise, I hope you mean that becuz I plan to test your limits the next time we meet.

TK: My limits are your limits. Life is too short. With that said u have to show me what u want me to do and in return do for me as I do for u. Tonight is a night I would do and touch anything in any way u need me to. I hope your panties are wet for me with all your love juice.

.

PAUSE.

.

Did he really just write that?? No one is going to believe this shit. I gotta tell…Max.

So I called Max and read her his message. She LHFAO, declared that The Kid’s text was an “epic fail and the “lamest thing she’d heard in a long time”, and then asked me, “What you going to do next?”

“Call him and find out what all this mess is about.”

“Okay, but make sure you call me back after you talk to him. I’m sure it’s going to be a great story.”

So I hung up and called The Kid.

“Hey Skye, what’s up?”

“Hi. I’m calling because you’ve been sending me some strange text messages. What gives?” I asked him.

(Pay attention folks – it starts to get real good right about here.)

“Seriously? Well, my friend is with me and he had my phone, so I’ll ask him.”

Are you fucking kidding me? Are you in grade 5? “Okay, so he had your phone, but out of all your contacts why would he choose to text me?”

“I don’t kno—” The Kid started to say, but he was cut off by another male voice that came booming through the phone. Apparently I was on speaker.

“Hey, I don’t know how to use no iPhone. I was telling him what to type to you,” the friend (whose name to this day I still don’t know) said, laughing real loudly.

FML. Have I landed on Planet Stupid tonight? “Uh huh. I figured something was up, because The Kid doesn’t talk to me like that.”

Well who told me to say that?  The Kid’s friend who didn’t know me from Adam, but obviously felt we were real cool, had the nerve to respond with…

“Oh no? I’ll have to school him then.”

Vexed, I opened my mouth to speak, but the Kid who apparently still thought this was all fun and games (but that’s generally what kids think about life right?) spoke first.

“Skye, you need another blogger? Want some good stuff for your site? You should check my friend here.”

This really isn’t happening is it? I took a deep breath and said, “We’re good thanks, but do you guys think women really fall for that kind of shit?”

“You’d be surprised how many  do, Skye.” The Kid said, peevishly.

I looked up at the ceiling high above me. Thank you Lord for giving me the sense not to bone his childish ass. “Really? That’s funny, because my girl thought it was lame too.”

“What?!?! Why you got to tell your friends everything?” The Kid said, sounding indignant.

Who the fuck is this boy? Lord, where is the MAN I was crushing so hard on who was witty, charming and seemingly intelligent? Bring him back, PLEASE!

Then the Kid’s Friend chimed in again. “Oh yeah, you in a catch 22 now girl huh? Getting the text and telling your friend his business.”

Excuse me asshole, have we met? I ignored Mr. Asshole and said, “Kid, you’re telling me that you think it’s okay for you and your boy to sit in your car and joke about the stupid-ness you’re texting me, but I can’t share the joke with my friend?  Get over yourself guy.”

“Oooo boy. She’s a fiery one. You’re going to have a good time with her tonight,” his friend said laughing even louder than he did the first time.

Oh no he didn’t? Why is he still talking? And more importantly why is The Kid allowing him to speak to me like that? By then people, I was about ready to climb through the phone and choke somebody.

The Kid, who to his credit finally seemed to notice that I was about to tear both him and his friend new ones, rushed to end the call. “Look Skye, can we talk later? I’ll call you later okay?”

“Whatever.” I mumbled and then hung up the phone.

As I laid my head down on my pillow to get catch some Z’s the texts and the conversation that followed was all I could think about. I mean I’d received more than a few drunken phone and text messages in my time, but nothing that compared to The Kid’s performance that night. How could a grown ass man be so easily influenced by his friend to do something so stupid?  And if The Kid had actually sent those texts after being told what to type by his friend, Mr. Asshole, he was obviously a moron. The only question was how did he hide that fact from me for so long? And why did he allow his boy to talk to me like I was some dumbass  chick? And just what had he told the man about me to warrant his “You’re going to have a good time with her tonight” comment? People, I was seething.

Needless to say it took me forever to fall asleep, and when I woke up bleary-eyed and unrested the next morning I was still bent. So I picked up my phone and sent The Kid a text message stating the following:

“Sorry it had to end like this. Thanks for the time spent and please feel free NOT to contact me again.”

A week and a half passed before The Kid, aka Lame Ass, sent me another text message that read…

“You have to read a book called Crush It – all about blogging and social media. You’ll thank me latr.”

Riiiiight.

Although I thought about thanking him for his message with a heartfelt “FUCK YOU!” I didn’t bother. After all, as my girl Michie says, silence is often the best closure. The Kid and all the man-children out there like him are officially off the list. As a direct result of his near infantile behaviour I’ve reinstated my rule about not dating younger men, with a corollary:

I, Skye Blue, will not date younger men – happily use them for practice (like my girl Jess intends to this summer), yes – but NEVER EVER will I date them.

Just sayin’.

I’ve been trying to write this piece for a couple of weeks now. I’ve asked friends, family, andthe man-friend. I’ve consulted Jane Austen, Margaret Mitchell…even Dan Savage and what I’ve come up with is this…
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Women ARE emotional.
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But guess what? Being emotional is NOT the terrible thing it is made out to be. The problem isn’t that woman are too emotional, it’s that people associate having emotions with weakness. However, emotions are not a sign of weakness; in fact they are completely the opposite they make us stronger. Imagine for a second what it’s like to be a guy, what it’s like to have to hide your emotions because if your dudes saw you crying they’d assume you were less of a man. Unless of course you were all crying after a big game…that kind of crying is cool.

There is something special about the relationship between two women. It’s a sisterhood that no man can ever really understand. We know each others secrets, we cry together, we laugh together and we love together – all without fear of retribution. Sometimes I even wonder if men are jealous of our bonds, of our connections. I wonder if they ever think about what it would be like to live without fearing their emotions.

Before you get excited by my Spice Girl-esque girl power schpeal keep reading; there is another side to this coin. While I’m happy to say that as a woman I can feel freely, that most people will just accept it as part of my innate femininity; I am also frustrated by my inability to separate myself from those very same emotions. Girls you know what I’m talking about. When the man-friend says something we don’t like, we tend to try and read more into the words that he is saying than is actually there. We search for emotions behind the words, even if it isn’t there. Usually he is saying exactly what he’s thinking and we spend so much time trying to decode words that don’t need decoding that we end up fighting over nothing.

Recently I found myself doing exactly that – putting meaning into words that were so very clear and honest that I assumed they had to have some big and deeply hidden emotion behind them. I ran through past relationships, books and Sex & The City quotes in my head, thinking, “He’s just not that into you” in a situation where I had no right to be thinking anything aside from, “Isn’t it awesome that there’s a dude in my life who wants to be totally straight with me.” I let my emotions and my history take over and I made him feel guilty for being honest with me. Right move? No. Chick move? I’m ashamed to say…yes.

But how do you find a middle ground? How do you embrace your emotions without assuming every sentence uttered by his pouty just shy of perfect lips is fraught with the same kind of emotion we throw behind our own words? You can try to…

Remember that not everything has a double meaning.

Remember that he is capable of the same kind of intense mind shattering feelings that you are.

Remember that when he’s feeling something he’ll tell you (and trust me you won’t have to decode a word).

Remember that unless you have a very CLEAR and REAL reason to believe otherwise, you should 1) ALWAYS assume that your man-friend is being straight with you, and 2) AVOID geting mad about things that were unsaid – because if he’s not saying it, you’re probably the only one thinking it.

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And ladies, the next time you feel something intense, wonderful, sad, terrible or lovely – just go with it. The boys aren’t watching and even if they are, they’ll likely chalk it all up to your girlishness. Too bad for them they don’t know how awesome it is to be a girl.

I get mad when you walk away (don’t walk away)
So I tell you leave, when I mean stay

–‘Sweetest Thing’ by Lauryn Hill

My childhood friend Mikey always said that women were just flat out irrational and illogical. Too dependent on their emotions he’d say. Can’t trust ‘em. They should never be CEO’s or run countries. Running a household was as much responsibility as they should have. That was Mikey’s stance and he wasn’t budging. To be fair, Mikey had women do and say the craziest shit in order to get with or stay with him. Or to push his buttons.

As for myself, I’ve got to be honest. I think women are bat-shit crazy. Maybe I’m too much of a man to wrap my head around thought processes that differ from my own brain and cock centred logic, but more often than not women leave me scratching my heads. I mean all women. My mother, my sister, my aunts, my cousins and women I’ve dated. Especially ones I’ve dated.

I had one girlfriend break up with me because I wouldn’t fight with her. Note that I didn’t say I wouldn’t argue with her. Those who know me, know just how argumentative I can be. She broke it off because I refused to have prolonged and protracted fights over things like the correct way to make tea or the colour of Alex Trebek’s moustache. Things that just aren’t important when you’re 21, fresh out of university, underemployed and still living in your momma’s basement.

I had another girlfriend start a yelling match with me in a bookstore because I didn’t introduce her to Mikey as my girlfriend, I only called her name. Never mind the fact that as one of my closest friends Mikey already knew all about her, so he didn’t need to know her title or job description.

Then there was the girl who had the meltdown in the mall while trying to buy a new skirt. Seemed she didn’t like the fit. Wanted to know what I thought. When I told her it looked okay, everything became un-okay. It became a “you’re so mean, so inconsiderate and so inattentive” conversation. I was the devil apparently. There were tears and recriminations. Pointed fingers and accusations. I didn’t know what to do as we roamed the cavernous shopping mall. In a panic I offered to buy her ice cream. She always liked ice cream. I knew it. She knew it. Everyone who knew her knew it. However, this gesture was interpreted as some indication that she was fat or an invitation to get fat or…frankly all these years later I’m not sure what happened but offering to get her an ice cream cone (did I mention how much she looooooved ice cream?) was interpreted as an act of aggression.

But here’s the piece de resistance. In the aftermath of my grandmother’s death, my friends wanted to take me out for drinks to help ease the pain. After all, just like everyone who knows me they knew how I close I was to my grandmother. Anyway, my then girlfriend threw a fit. She wanted to spend the night with me. I told her I was going out with the boys and that I would see her the next day. She said that I should be with her instead of my friends. I said that wasn’t going to happen. She said that I was an asshole. I said maybe I am, but I’m still going out with the boys. With a voice filled with rage she said, “fine don’t call me anymore”. So I didn’t. Two weeks later she called me wanting to know why I hadn’t called her.

Sweetest woman in the world,
Could be the meanest woman in the world
If you make her that way.

–“It’s a Thin Line Between Love and Hate” by The Persuaders

I’m generally a good guy, but I’ve done some dirt in my time. I’ve ignored phone calls or didn’t call when I said I would. I’ve been out on the town drinking with the boys when she’s at home by herself. I’ve been “sometimeish” with my affections. At times I’ve been a shitty boyfriend. And when you’re a shitty boyfriend you can’t expect your lady to be sweet like sugar all the time.

That’s the thing about calling women emotional, illogical and irrational. They might be, but how these things manifest themselves can often be determined by how you treat the woman or treat the situation. Take my friend Mikey, president of the women are emotional, illogical and irrational school of thought. Mikey never met a woman he didn’t want to flirt with—even if he had a girlfriend. Nor did Mikey really know what it meant to be faithful. Or to commit.

In fact Mikey treated the woman he wasn’t with better than the woman he was with. All the time. So it kind of goes without saying that there are going to be some trust issues there. Or some emotion. Some illogic. And a lack of rationality.

Now this isn’t to excuse batshit crazy women (which based on my own unscientific and wholly anecdotal experience is roughly…all of you). But the thing is even though in my gut, in my heart of hearts, in that part of my being that governs my emotions I think women are crazy, my logical, rational man brain tells me this can’t be true. Or the entire story.

Anyway. Many moons ago my brother was venting to me about the latest in a long line of women to frustrate him with crazy, logically inconsistent and emotional behaviour.

“I just don’t get it” he said “what the f*** is wrong with women, why the f*** do I even bother?”

My response was simple. And maybe the “truest” thing I’ve ever said.

“Dude, our job isn’t to understand women. It’s to love and respect them as best we can. Period. Leave the understanding to someone else.”

“I never married because there was no need. I have three pets at home which answer the same purpose as a husband. I have a dog that growls every morning, a parrot that swears all afternoon, and a cat that comes home late at night.” – Marie Corelli

This week we are debunking the myth that all women want marriage and babies. I don’t agree with statements that make such sweeping generalisations, but here’s a confession: I do.

I, Elizabeth Rose, self proclaimed slut of the first and finest order would some day like to get married and have babies. I want a husband and children. I daydream of a nice house in a happy chaos of books, pets and artwork. I picture a brood of my curly haired miniatures dashing in from the garden in their jelly shoes and my beloved looking up from the crossword to scold “No running in the house!”.

I even have my wedding planned. I hope to elope to Vegas where the service will be performed by a JP dressed as Elvis, before holding my reception at a karaoke bar.

And I’m broody. I can’t see a pair of baby shoes without spontaneously ovulating.  But, and this is a huge BUT:

I don’t want to marry you.

I don’t want to have your babies.

I did not agree to sleep with you as part of some master plan to trap you into getting your last name.

The presumption that I am trying to entice you into more than a passing flirtation or a momentary distraction is almost insulting. If I thought you were my equal and the potential source for half my spawns’ genetics; then you would be intelligent enough to know I am not into playing games.

Maybe there are women out there who would try to ensnare a mate through falsehoods and trickery, likely there are men like that as well. But let’s not assume all our current bedfellows are from the lower end of the integrity scale. Be honest with yourself about what you want from a connection and communicate it to the other parties. If it evolves, then have that conversation too.

And just remember, just because I can’t hide my yearning when I hold a friend’s baby it doesn’t mean that I will be looking for your swimmers to make that final charge.

Ah women and the truth…it’s a relationship more fraught than the Capulets and the Montagues, the Jets and the Sharks, the Crips and the Bloods. Not that we gals will admit it of course. See we like to delude ourselves by proclaiming that honesty is one of the most important characteristics a man can have while leaving out the huge caveat:

“…as long as it doesn’t hurt my feelings”.

Did you get that? Let me say it again: we want you to tell us the truth but we don’t want you to hurt our feelings.

If you’re asking yourself “how the f*ck am I supposed to do that?” you’re not alone. Most men never master this trick and instead opt for bold-faced lying in response to difficult questions. And women, trained as we are in the art of sniffing out falsehoods, invariably catch you. Which leads to arguments and withholding of sex, which is no fun for anyone.  Luckily for you, I – the perfect hybrid of woman and man – have devised a foolproof  solution to this issue.

Now I know my friend Sam Sharpe gave you the rundown of how he avoids the bold-faced lie and instead answers common relationship questions with unbridled honesty, but I don’t advise that course of action for the faint of heart. Not only does complete honesty require a strong constitution to deal with all the fall-out, but you also have to be able to spot a swindle disguised as an innocent question. So for my men out there who are not named after super-heroes, here is your cheat sheet for avoiding these common relationship minefields:

1. How do I look?
Most of the time when your woman asks you a question about her looks, it’s a trap. She’s looking for a gas-up, not an honest answer. So if your woman walks into a room after an hour of prep-work and asks you how she looks, your answer can only be this: “great”.

And I can hear your little puss brains buzzing right now with your buts…

But what if she really doesn’t look good in what she has on?
But what if there’s something else I would prefer her to wear?
But what if what she’s wearing is not appropriate?

Yeah in all these scenarios your answer is still “great”.

If you really want her to change her clothes, try reverse psychologizing her. Say something like “no baby that looks great. No really. At first I was thinking you should wear that black thing but this is a million times better. For real”. Then leave the room and start watching highlights. She’ll be out in 0.02 seconds wearing that black thing and you’ve avoided an argument.

2. Where is this relationship going?

Another one where she’s looking for something other than the truth. In this case, it’s reassurance she’s after, so rather than giving her the truth raw dog i.e. “nowhere”, “the bedroom”, “I never thought about it” or “I’m using you to get over my ex”, try a little evasion.  A line like “I’m enjoying spending time with you and want to see what happens” covers up a multitude of sins and saves you from a big long conversation about your relationship.

3. Which one of my friends would you f*ck?

If you answer this question truthfully I will hunt you down like a dog and kill you. What she’s really asking you here is which of her friends it’s not safe to leave you alone with and I promise you – if you give her the idea that you’ve even remotely considered slamming one of her friends you will never hear the end of it.

The correct answer here is something evasive like “Hmm…I never really thought about it, but probably none of them. They’re not really my type”. Then for God’s sake start kissing on her or something to distract her before she can call you on the ridiculousness of your statement.

4. Did you f*ck her?

This is a tricky one because she could be looking for reassurance, but more than likely she is setting a trap for you. If you slammed the girl in question, you have two choices: evade – which is tricky and unlikely to work – or deny. As my buddy Dr. Jay says, Deny, deny, deny…at least until you’ve ascertained what her motivation is for asking the question. Remember that if you start out with a lie you can always come back with the truth, but if you open with the truth you’ve got nowhere to go.

Oh and of course if by some chance your answer is no, you’re golden. Go ahead and tell her the truth.

5. How often do you jerk off/watch porn?

Now you’re probably thinking, but Max why do I have to lie about this? What’s the big deal? But it’s a tricky one. For some women this won’t be an issue at all  – I personally don’t rate a man who doesn’t watch porn and/or masturbate on a regular – but if your girl is asking the question, the wrong answer will be a big deal. Telling your girl that you jerk off daily or watch porn hourly is more than likely going to result in her thinking you’re not satisfied by her. Which will then lead to her becoming self-conscious in bed. Which will decrease the quality and frequency of sex. So do yourself a big favour and try some creative accounting: take your number, subtract 7, and divide it in half.

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There you go guys. Memorize these answers and you will never be caught off-guard by your woman’s tongue-lashing with nothing to say for yourself but “I thought you wanted my honest answer?!?”

Trust me, you’ll be thanking me later.

As ER pointed out in Not the Whole Truth and I implied in Top 10 Tall Tales Told in the Bedroom, there are times when it’s best not to ask for or tell the truth to your SO/bed mate.  However, it is ALWAYS important to face the realities of your relationship – even the ones you are loathe to deal with.

If you choose to bury your head in the sand and ignore the issues that come up between you and your SO, I can almost guarantee that at some point down the line, you’ll be facing a world of hurt. So to help you avoid being hit by what I like to call a hard-truth-bitch-slap, I’ve put together a list of the tell-tale signs that indicate your relationship isn’t on track. Things we women often overlook, because we don’t want to accept the TRUTH…

1. If your man is constantly saying things like: “I need space”, “I’m not looking for anything serious now”, “I’m not sure what I want”, or is just hitting you with silence when you ask him about your future he’s on his way out the door – because as they say, he’s just not that into you.
2. If he’s never made any attempt to introduce you to his friends and/or co-workers, and when you run into one of them by accident they have to ask him “Who’s your friend?” to force an introduction – you ain’t his girlfriend, SO or stucky.
3. If ‘out of the blue’ your man begins to repeatedly suggest that you start jogging or going to the gym together – there’s a good chance he’s trying to let you know that you’re losing your sexy.
4. If you’ve tried leaving your clothing and toiletries at his house on more than one occasion and he either stashes it in some hidden location or chases you down as you leave to hand it back to you – you are NOT the only one. The same holds true if each and every time you’re at his house the waste bins in his bathroom and/or his bedroom are completely EMPTY – just sayin’.
5. If you offered to give him a key to your place and he laughed and said something like “Why would I need that?” or he took it reluctantly and then never ever used it – he isn’t interested in cohabiting or giving you unlimited access to his space.
6. If every time the subject of marriage or weddings comes up he changes the subject or bolts from the room – he ain’t trying to marry you.
7. If you’ve finally gotten him to agree that marriage is the right choice for the two of you and then he proceeds to drag his heels on the proposal (i.e. takes forever to buy the ring, then even longer to propose) – he isn’t exactly overcome with joy at the thought of being hitched.
8. If either of you have to get a bit tipsy to have a real conversation or you have to ask one of your friends to bring up a subject you’d like to broach with your mate the next time you’re all together – you’ve got communication issues, and serious ones at that.
9. If he hasn’t attempted to have sex with you or you just haven’t gotten around to having sex with him (because you’re busy, tired, stressed or simply not in the mood) in anywhere from a week to a few months (depending on the man) – he’s getting the cookie somewhere else.
10. If getting high or drunk together is your regular prelude to sex because it’s the only way one or both of you can fathom getting naked together, what can I say (you can’t see me, but I’m giving you a Kanye shrug)? Perhaps it’s time to consider getting a new dance partner?