Showing posts with label Mittens McMagicUnderPants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mittens McMagicUnderPants. Show all posts

Thursday, November 8, 2012

What am I supposed to Talk About Now? Oh yeah, Facebook!

In case you've been living under a rock, President Barack Obama was re-elected.

And my vagina unclenched for the first time in months.

All the horribleness that is watching a campaign play out was made worthwhile knowing that Mittens McMagicUnderPants would have to go home and cry in his beer glass of warm milk.

Until I got on Facebook, that is.

I always thought my friends were just overdramatic losers without anything resembling an actual life. But in the days following the election, I learned they are also slobbering idiots/bigots.

Good to know, guys!

Here are a few gems I just had to share with you all.


I voted. Where's my money? Love, Moochers


No problemo.


In all fairness, you won't be able to say much when 
you're a Communist.


Dammit, I was wondering where my baby went.


Wait? He's black? I just thought he was Hawaiian. Fuck.



And last, but definitely not least, ME!


The Mayans were obviously huge Romney supporters.

*UPDATE* My Facebook friends are well-mannered and informed compared to the election night social-networkers compiled at Jezebel. Warning: Many of these posts are ridiculously offensive.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Help! I Think I'm a Whore.

Allie,

I was listening to my favorite local morning radio show, and they were talking about a survey that indicated the ideal number of sex partners for men and women. What it boils down to, is that men and women both said 10 is the ideal number for their mate to have when they get married.

Now, I'm not super duper over the mark of 10, but I'm definitely past it. Aaaand I feel like a whore.

Mostly because I'm nowhere NEAR getting married or even engaged. And unless the guy I went on a date with Tuesday night turns out to be "the one," I will most likely date (and have sex with) an unknown number (who knows how many or few) men before I find that lucky bastard.

So what's a girl to do? Do I just stop having sex until I think I've found him? I mean, I like sex. What does the number matter? Do you really have to divulge that information when you're in a relationship? I've told before because I've been asked, but is my past really that important? Anyways, I'm feeling some kinda way about this, and I cant quite figure it out. Any thoughts would be appreciated.

Thanks,
Feeling Whore-ish


Stop reading my blog, you whore.

.
.
.
.
.
.

Totally kidding.

What station are you listening to, Whore-ish? Is Rush Limbaugh on it, demonizing birth control and masturbating to The Food Network?

Personally, I hate the word whore. I much prefer the term penis connoisseur. That ish sounds fancy, like you went to one semester at Le Cordon Bleu to learn what type of wine goes with a side of trouser snake. And that's a fine skill to have.

Anyways I don't think a number matters (surprise! surprise!) as long you're comfortable with your sexual experiences overall--meaning that, for the most part, you can look back on your sexytime partners and think "yep, I know why I did him. Trustfund! Married Republican Senator!"

Now is divulging "your number" important? I guess that depends.

Do you expect your partner to spill all the gory details regarding his sexual escapades? If so, then I think you have to give up the goods. If not, you can express that putting a number on your past experiences isn't something you're comfortable with.

However, withholding information often makes people fear the worst, so that may be something you want to consider, as well.

Overall whore-ish, I think people, especially women, need to relax a little when it comes to their "number". It doesn't define you. I've slept with nearly 10,000 men and/or women, and have been in a long-term monogamous relationship since high school. That means most of my no-pants dancing was done in a three-year time frame. That, my friend, is impressive. I'm like mother-fucking Michael Phelps without the abs. Or the underbite.

And if it makes you feel any better, Mittens McMagicUnderPants was on national television when he disclosed that he has "binders full of women". That can only mean tons of Mormon child-brides seductively bearing an ankle while locked in a Trapper Keeper.

What a whore.

And he's running for president.


P.S. If after reading this you think, "I might be a whore." Email me at notreallyabarista@gmail.com. You will remain anonymous.

P.S.S. Follow me on Facebook. And Twitter. And POF (JK! For now).