hot action

It's not that I get bored easily, it's just that I find excitement in newness. When I'm having an affair with a woman, I don't always like it when she just shows up somewhere and assumes I'm going to leave with her. I like to flirt and get hit on and get picked up every time, the same as when we first met.

There are a few Halifax hotties who are really good at this. They can come stomping into a bar after I haven't seen them in months, and the next thing you know we're making out in the bathroom and I'm dissing all the girls I've been talking to all night just to get someone's sweet ass home to bed. [Thank god for the women who know what I like: action!]

Posted by philip at 03:52 PM | Permalink

Sometimes there will be a message on my phone the next day from one of the women I bailed out on: "Sorry, but I don't think I can keep having an affair with you." And I'll call back and say, "Well, I can't say I blame you, because I really am a complete prick."

I'll be heartbroken and I'll lie on my bed and mope all afternoon, going "Nobody loves me for who I am."

Then night falls and the whole thing starts over.

Posted by philip at 03:51 PM | Permalink

As much as I enjoy talking about all this stuff and getting issues out in the open, I must say: things are happening on a subliminal level.

Posted by philip at 06:29 PM | Permalink

"Oh hi honey, it's me... listen, I'm running a little bit behind tonight... no that's OK, I just got done eating... Oh, I'll grab a little something on the way home. OK bye honey."

Posted by philip at 06:22 PM | Permalink

Blowjobs often inhabit a grey area between foreplay and orgasm. By default, I tend to think of them as foreplay, and hold back a little in the assumption that my beloved is soon going to want a good slamming.

But there's something very powerful about the notion of permission. Having a woman look up and say "I want you to come" or "come in my mouth baby" can flip the switch on the whole encounter. All of a sudden it's like "Woo hoo let's go for it!" ...And on the other hand it's helpful to know if you're just warming me up.

By the way, having an orgasm from oral sex is less common than having intercourse, and way less common than it seems to be in porno movies (speaking from my own experience here). This means that if you give great head it will be remembered fondly and for a long time. I got a blowjob in February of 1990 that I'm still recovering from. Let alone a couple of more recent standouts.

Posted by philip at 02:57 AM | Permalink

March 21 is National Breakup Day.

It's a holiday I invented a few years back to celebrate the arrival of spring and the end of the long, cold dead of winter. It's the perfect opportunity to open up your life a little bit, give yourself room to breathe, make way for exciting opportunities... all this and more, simply by dumping that loser you've been hanging out with.

Posted by philip at 03:33 PM | Permalink

A strange but all-too-common phenomenon is that of the monogamous couple who stay together long after they've stopped having sex. That's pretty much who Breakup Day is aimed at.

For those of you who are involved in long-term or long-distance relationships: check your calendar. If you've haven't had sex at all in the year 2002, your relationship is instantly annulled today, by order of Her Majesty The Queen.

There now. Wasn't that easy? Now go get some action, silly.

Posted by philip at 03:33 PM | Permalink

I love it when couples break up. Especially those perfect couples that we all know... the ones that were supposed to get married and have kids? I think it's great when they go bust. Yes! The world suddenly seems like a more interesting and more honest place.

To some people, this pleasure I take is the final evidence of my utter heathen amorality. But I'm really no different from the Xian who gets happy when people convert to Xianity. I just want people to be like me.

Posted by philip at 03:33 PM | Permalink

Hot website: girls with glasses. Yum.

Oh by the way, speaking of intellectual women... I played this game for a while and then got stuck. I would gladly buy a drink for the first woman to give me the password for Level 18. It's called Reflections. (warning--may be addictive)

Posted by philip at 03:56 AM | Permalink

Phallic symbols seem to abound on the planet Earth. But where do you look if you're yearning for yoni? Temple, tomb, cave or flower.

Lately I've been fascinated by these two-dimensional representations of black holes, which seem to represent the feminine principle on a galactic scale. Consider:

Posted by philip at 03:50 AM | Permalink

Yes, it's sad but true; women who give good head are very rare. (Someone's going to complain that men who give good head are rare too, yeah yeah, go start your own website.)

The big mistake is trying to be all romantic about it. Caressing his member with a warm wet mouth while her tongue explores the length of... blah blah blah, and meanwhile I'm up there reading a magazine going, "Ahhh, well, doesn't that feel relaxing."

Nope, a hot blowjob is about as pretty and romantic as a jackhammer. Constant speed, constant rhythm, wrap your hand around the base and pump away for good luck, and bonus points if you make sounds like you're actually enjoying it.

Posted by philip at 09:59 PM | Permalink

And of course some women do enjoy it ("Hello! Nice to meet you"). But if they don't it's not really an issue for me; I've even had entire affairs where her mouth never even got near my noodle. What are you gonna do. Geez, I wouldn't like it if someone asked ME to stick one of those things in my mouth.

Posted by philip at 09:59 PM | Permalink

But when it's good, it's great, and when it's outdoors it's even better.

Posted by philip at 09:59 PM | Permalink

Posted by philip at 03:20 PM | Permalink

Sometimes it seems like women can't leave the house for the evening without embedding themselves in a complicated network of sticky friendships.

There's the "best friend as worst enemy" scenario. You've been sitting in the bar having a great conversation with a lovely lady. Her best friend appears and stands directly behind you, sighing, looking at her watch. She interrupts two comfortable people by saying, "Are you almost ready to go?"

"Okay... well... just hang on a minute..." says the object of your deep affection. "Fuck off, cranky person" you do not quite say out loud.

Fortunately, if you wait it out long enough, the magic moment will arrive when the "friend" stamps off in a huff. That's about the best result you can hope for. And what a relief it is.

"She's had a hard night," says the object of your deep affection, just before you reach over and bite her on the neck.

Posted by philip at 09:57 PM | Permalink

And then we have the "logistical nightmare": "Well, I'm ready to leave except Beth has my keys and I have Laura's sweater. Plus I told Annette I'd say good-bye to her before I left. Oh, and I was supposed to find Jen, she's going away to Truro for the weekend and I promised her I'd have a drink with her, although she was talking to that guy from her chemistry class and maybe she won't care if I don't have a drink with her, but I suppose I should at least try to say good-bye to her anyway even if she is talking to that guy from her class... oh god, where's my coat check ticket."

Whereas with males it's as simple as "Aright, see you guys later."

Posted by philip at 09:56 PM | Permalink

Posted by philip at 03:23 PM | Permalink

Damaged male sexuality: desensitization due to overexposure to pornography.

Damaged female sexuality: desensitization due to overexposure to the pulsating shower head.

Posted by philip at 12:46 PM | Permalink

The Coast's astrology column-- blah. Can't bear to look at it. A weekly reminder that "New Age" rhymes with "sewage."

I have this image of myself as an intellectual who sleeps with beautiful, intelligent women. Astrology is for suckers. Talking about the zodiac makes me skeptical; actually believing in it is an active turn-off.

Often a woman will pick up a copy of The Coast, open up to Free Will Astrology and say "so what's your sign." OK, harmless fun. You can't really fault someone for trying to find ways to make conversation. It can be entertaining, if only because astrology lends itself well to parody; for example, the horoscope section at theonion.com is the funniest part of the whole site.

But now and then I hear stuff like, "Oh, I get along well with my roommate because she's a Taurus and I'm a Pisces." That's when I close my eyes and say, "Great."

Anyone think they can guess my sign from reading this? Go ahead and try.

Posted by philip at 10:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Physics on the other hand. I stopped into a cafe the other day and ran into an acquaintance who was sitting with an open physics textbook on her lap.

"Oh, just working out a few equations," she said, staring up at me through coloured eyeglass frames.

I almost started taking my clothes off right then and there.

Posted by philip at 10:40 PM | Permalink

Any girl wants to get with me, better get on the dancefloor.

Posted by philip at 12:48 PM | Permalink

Mmm, spontaneity. It's not a matter of what you're going to do. It's a matter of where.

Posted by philip at 12:48 PM | Permalink

It's official, Breakbeat Era is the sexiest music on the planet right now. You all can give the Portishead CD a rest for a while...

On my knees, finally
The irony is you saying please

Posted by philip at 03:56 PM | Permalink