Skanky Club Sex

As you well know, I recently took a grad trip/spring break to Vegas, the motherland for badass beautiful ladies like myself.

We DROVE down there, which was fun but also took 20 hours and I wanted to die.
The main problem we faced was that this is approximately what the drive looked like:

Beautiful, endless, shrub desert of boringness and mostly in the dark, so even worse.
20 hours later, and LOTS of pee breaks, we arrived.
VICTORY.
We stayed in the Luxor:

 

And that was delightful. We were right behind the sphynx!

So here is the main point of the post: one night we went to the club inside the Luxor, LAX.
It was a lot of fun, because, pro-tip, as a lady in Vegas you don't need to pay cover to get in to clubs and you often don't have to pay for drinks. If you wander around during the day bouncer/club promoter guys will approach you and offer you these wrist band things that get you in ahead of the line and for free and usually come with a "all you can drink vodka drinks until midnight or 1" deal.

Awesome, right?
There we are, on the dance floor, bobbing along to Ke$ha, and we glance up.
Now, in LAX, there is a balcony that hangs halfway over the dance floor so that people who pay a lot of money can dance up there above all us cheap plebeians.

Above us we see two people dancing. Sure, nothing normal about that...oh wait...her dress is hiked up above her hips. Maybe one of her friends should tell her, she probably doesn't know...oh wait...the dude she is dancing with is doing that intentionally and she is obviously in to it.
Now he is dipping a little too low for just normal grinding...
Now she is putting her leg up on to part of the railing and...
Wait...
Did she just reach between her legs to adjust something...
Is...
Are they...
MOTHER OF GOD

Yes, indeed, they are having sex.

She is waving at the crowd as we all stare up in horror and shock, and keeps reaching down to push "it" back in and OH  MY GOD THEY ARE NOT DOING IT AT AN ANGLE THAT WOULD WORK FOR VAGINAL INTERCOURSE
THERE IS BUTT SEX OCCURRING DIRECTLY ABOVE US

Abort mission.
Abort Vegas.
What the what the what?

I am not exaggerating. Butt sex. Balcony. Over a dance floor. Waving. Skanky.

How do you do that?
What the hell is wrong with your friends that they said, "Oh, Jessica is doing it with a dude up against the balcony right now, rock on."
How does that reflect on you? Or your parents?
I understand making out and heavy petting and even bathroom sex, but...that's a real stretch.

Needless to say it was the highlight/low light of the trip.


Moral of the story: At least you won't have to worry about getting pregnant?

Definitions

Open up your brain so I can store some knowledge in there!

Today is yet another day wherein I teach you things that you probably didn't know.
There are a lot of these sorts of things, but today we only have time for one (maybe two).

We're going to learn a new phrase today, and you're going to like it.
"Lady Boner," or, conversely, "Gentleman Boner."

Never heard of it? Well, after this post you'll be an expert.

This is inspired by a conversation I recently had with a friend, wherein I asked if the average guys thinks about the difference between "hot" and "beautiful."
It's a very difficult thing to articulate, but I find myself often thinking about it. There are implications and meanings tied to calling someone "hot" or "pretty" or "cute," and you wouldn't call Megan Fox cute the same way you wouldn't call a puppy dog "hot."

Here is what I have gathered, from my own life observations and the conversation.
"Hot" is the girl or guy you see at a bar and you really just want to see them naked. You don't really want to have to talk to them, but man do you wanna touch their butt. "Hot" is a bar hook-up, or someone's hot body, or a nudie picture. "Hot," I think, is young and temporary and shallow, but, obviously, it is a pretty good thing to be.

"Beautiful" is the man or woman you see somewhere, and you can't help but think "Woah." You want to have coffee with them or wake up next to them or date them for a year. "Beautiful" is solid and it ages nicely and it is the kind of person you really want to date and get to know.

This isn't to say that they are mutually exclusive, someone can be both hot and beautiful (Christina Hendricks, anyone?), but it is a fairly difficult balance to strike. It also isn't to say that one is better than the other, because there are people who like their mates hot and there are people who like them beautiful.

In fact, that is why I have decided to talk about Lady Boners and Gentleman Boners.

A "Lady Boner" or "Gentleman Boner" is someone you find really, really attractive. It is a fun way to describe a hot and/or beautiful person.

So, here are examples, I would say that this guy

gives me a Lady Boner, but I'd also agree to hear about his feelings. It's a dignified Lady Boner.

But this guy, gives me a Lady Boner and I just wanna see him naked all the time and if he talks I'll be annoyed. It's still a Lady Boner, but there's no classiness to it...just abs...so much abs...

See? Difference.

I have become a huge fan of using this word, mostly because I think the word "boner" is funny, but also because it is less exact than calling them hot.

For your viewing pleasure:

Lady Boners

Gentleman Boners

Moral of the story: Hot or beautiful, you're all perfect to me.

Definitions: Words, Words, Words

I like teaching you guys things...mostly it is because of how much I know and how much you don't. I like doing service work and I'm going to forge some paperwork to see if educating you lot counts. It is going to involve some forged signatures and some bribery but those are both well within my range.

This blog post will count towards that! I'm filing it under "helpin' dummies learn stuff.'

As a girl who is often in bars, I often run the risk of encountering today's phenomenon. It's the bane of a woman's existence, and man's, I suppose, since it more instantly embarrasses and effects them. The problem is that it is an extremely annoying and lame thing, but people are using the name to describe the exact opposite and it is VERY unsettling for someone to do that. It is weird.

The thing of which I speak, of course, is: WHISKEY DICK

Those of you who aren't dumb will know that this is what happens when a lad drinks too much (of any booze-product, not just whiskey) and can't get it up. This is a crisis if, like me, half the fun in your life is picking up way-too-drunk dudes just for fun.
I'm like a wolf with a pack of sheep, of course I can kill the biggest, strongest one, but it is easier and more fun to go for the weak one struggling along at the back of the flock trying to eat a stick.
So you can sympathize with me when I reached bar age and started seriously encountering the problem of those weak, dumb little sheep I like being so drunk they can't actually provide the only service I could ever possibly want from them (Obviously I'd never try to hold conversation with one).

Here is the issue: Apparently this fake-and-baked hamster-lizard hybrid has a different definition for the term. She claims that Whiskey Dick is when a guy is super drunk and, instead of it not working at all, it works too well and you get to have sex for hours.
That is the more enjoyable definition, obviously, but that isn't what Whiskey Dick is. That is a man doing his job, goddammit.

You can see how this is a problem in the world.



Recently a friend was recounting the story of her one night stand.
"We got back to my house and he totally got Whiskey Dick."
"Oh, that sucks," I respond, trying to be sympathetic but secretly being like, "Duh! He came back to a stranger's house, so he's either dumb or he never saw The Berenstain Bears 'Don't Talk To Strangers' and Whiskey Dick is what happens when you make poor choices."
"What? No, it was awesome." She said.
What the what?
"Whiskey Dick is when they're hard for hours," she slowly explained.
"No..." I was very confused, "It is not."
"Well, Snooki said it was..."
And then I had a rage-blackout and I don't know what happened but I woke up with fake-tanner and blood on my hands...so we'll see how that turns out. It also inspired me to write this post.

I also had a brief moment of feminism (it struck in the time between wanting a pancake and realizing it takes too much effort to make your own) and decided to create the female version of Whiskey Dick. It's not as obvious, and the symptoms are different, but the point is the same: you're too drunk to bang.

For girls, the symptoms include: being at that point when you are too drunk to give consent, not being able to handle a wang properly (not even like your fourteen, have never seen one in real life, and don't quite know what to do, but the point where you are so drunk you honestly try this sort of thing), and where you can't do your part in the doinking process...you just lie there like you don't know it is happening.
BOO.
We came up with a name for it too!
Vodka Vag
So now you don't have to refer to it by some long winded description/explanation and can just drop some word-gold on people like bombs on London during a Blitzkrieg. Boom.


Moral of the story: Whiskey Dick is the opposite of awesome: just like Snooki.

How To: 2

Another chance for you to learn to be awesome, like me.

This post's lesson is all about...wait for it...wait for it...pass out and wake up four hours later with no recollection of what happened to you or how you ended up in Mexico but it doesn't matter because here comes...THE KNOCK AND COCK!

That's right ladies and gentlemen, the Knock and Cock.

Technically the "How To" is going to be: How To Seduce a Man Who Doesn't Want To Be Seduced. But, I really like saying "Knock and Cock" and I wanted to have a long build up to an all caps exclamation.

Here it goes, seducing unruly men. Well, if you are a lady creature and have anything even vaguely resembling boobs you are half-way to getting it on. A man finds it VERY hard to resist boobs of any size (I'm trying to be all inclusive for readers who are less top heavy).  It is in the very nature of boobs to make everything awesome and to seduce men. They reflect a woman's fertility; the bigger they are, the better for the offspring. 

Also, it's true...you just can't motorboat personality, and more importantly, your in depth knowledge of Battlestar Gallactica isn't going to entice a man from across the room, so you gotta hook 'em some how. Boobs are your best option. I guess a slammin' booty couldn't hurt, but not everyone can be as gifted as me (booyah).
Usually if you are trying to become a dude's nightime friend, all you have to do is ask. Dudes will, 90% of the time, go for it. You have to be doing something really wrong if you can't openly proposition a dude and he doesn't have his pants off four seconds later. If he does say no, it could be explained in several ways,  a) he is a gentleman, but who wants them anyways, b) he respects you as a person, but that's for sissies, or c) he isn't drunk enough yet.
Wait two beers, ask again. Repeat until bonage.

But, if he is really stubborn or you are really ugly, you can go for the Knock and Cock.
You've been wondering what that is, haven't you?
NOW YOU FIND OUT!

The Knock and Cock is also called "The Lady's Delight" if you are trying to be classy.
It is two things:
1) a roofie
2) a viagra
Crush 'em up, throw 'em in his drink, get him to a closet or a car's backseat or a bedroom (if you're classy) and make woopie.

Easy.

Someone raised the question recently of how will the two pills interact. My answer: "He'll fuckin' pass out and get a boner, boom, done."
Health risks my ass.
If you're going to give a dude the Knock and Cock you're probably not super worried about his health. Let's be honest for a minute.
Is it date rape? Probably.
Is it a hilarious name? Obviously
Am I actually suggesting you do it? "No" (But I would love to hear about success stories of logistics issues you run into if you do)

Moral of the story: drug 'em and love 'em, that's the way to do it.

**Important Note: The term "Knock and Cock" was created and is currently copyrighted by Dr. Iant "The Ginger Butt" Bennett. He's really mad I didn't write that in the original post.

Dirty, Dirty

Once upon a time we went to Verona, Italy. I was invited by two of the girls in my study abroad program; Erika and Martini. They technically both named Erika/Eryka but I feel like that could be confusing to read and keep track of if you don't actually know them. One is very blond and the other is very not. They are a fun pair and I was excited to get to travel with them.
We left on Friday morning, via the train and it took a couple hours to arrive in Verona, which, you'll not be surprised to hear, was FUCKING freezing. It was raining, I had no pants on, and it was easily -312 degrees Celsius. So we arrived at our B&B and were surprised by how beautiful and clean and nice it was. For a place you find on hostelworld.com for 23euro a night, this place had super comfy beds and nice bathrooms and it was clean and cute and apparently run by a couple of gays (who were adorable). That's besides the point.
We then went exploring, almost died from frostbite coldness, and saw Christmas markets.

Verona is a beautiful place defined by a play written by a guy who never went there (Shakespeare never left Britain), and made up most of the people. There is some truth to the families, though they had vaguely different names. There was a feud between two of the families, but Shakespeare appropriated all that for his play. Verona obviously took advantage of the fame and made everything Romeo and Juliet themed. You can go to her 'house' and her 'tomb' and Romeo's 'house' and the only available souvenirs are Romeo and Juliet motif. In actuality, there is nothing particularly romantic about Verona.

EXCEPT THIS:

It's the name of a store we found.

After a day of freezing and hoping to find a fire to throw myself on just so my core temperature could rise a few degrees, we went back to our hostel and crawled into bed around nine. You may say that is kind of early for three awesome girls like us, and that's true, it is, but at that point we just wanted to be warm and we were exhausted from travel and being frigid cold all day.
So we were laying around, still super cold, laughing and talking into the night until we got tired.
Eventually someone asked, "What's your number?"
We aren't talking about phone number either. That's code for "How slutty are you?" or "What are the chances you have herpes?"

Erika and Martini answered, but their numbers aren't important to the story (and also publicizing that without asking would be rude), and then I told them..."Seventeen."
Martini laughed and Erika just shot up in bed and screamed "YOU DIRTY GINGER."
Which is funny a) because that has nothing to do with how many people I've kissed and b) because I'm solidly within the brown-blond range of hair color and totally not even sort of a ginger.

It was an interesting reaction to say the least, and it makes for a good story. Erika: great at life lessons...and insults.

Moral of the story: All gingers are whores...apparently.