So if you’re here and want to see my beautiful face, let me know.
So if you’re here and want to see my beautiful face, let me know.
Last night at the bar with co-workers we were discussing the act of watching porn with another person. Looking back I was drawing a blank and couldn’t remember a single time I had done it. I thought perhaps I had while blacked out, but settled on the idea that I never needed to watch porn with someone to get us going. Fuck, I mean, I was the star after all.
But I was wrong.
Once upon a time there was Dan. Now I have mentioned Dan before in a few blogs because he takes part in one of my favorite blackout sex stories. In fact, Dan might have been written about in my first blog ever (which has since been deleted), but he was written about here.
Dan and I took a philosophy class together and we fucking hated our teacher. She was this incompetent slut bag. She wore low cut shirts and gave all the boys better grades they didn’t deserve and was under qualified to be teaching Bioethics. That whore. I even wrote to the Dean who later was accused of sleeping with the staff and now it all makes sense. — Back to Dan and I.
Dan liked me and I knew it, but wanted to prove it to a friend of ours that it was true. I took Dan up on his offer to go out and have drinks instead of attending class one day. This is when I blacked the fuck out, had sex, blacked in at a Richard Dawkins talk, and illegally drove his moped around campus. It was pretty glorious for a Monday.
However, I had forgotten perhaps the best part about Dan. A week or so after the blackout incident Dan asked me to hang out again. It was pretty pathetic, but he invited me over to watch the Presidential Debate and I said I would go if we could make it a drinking event. Truthfully I wouldn’t go anywhere at this point in my life unless there was alcohol present. We got some wine and started drinking while semi watching the debate. I didn’t want to have sex with him really, but I figured it could be worth having memories of having sex with him at least once.
At some point we turned off the debate and put on episodes of Family Guy (or whatever, it’s not important). Again I was bored and so he started asking me sexual questions. We wandered onto the topic of porn and I was intrigued for the first time all night. Porn fascinates me. It’s amazing how many different types and variations there are and I love knowing that someone out there is into women fucking dogs. I told him that truthfully I don’t get off to porn much, but I when I do, I go for some average rough sex or lesbian porn. I admitted to watching endless amounts of porn though for pure interest in the weird and wild shit readily available.
He told me sometimes he likes to watch Midget Porn.
I would fuck this girl though. Look at her.
I had valid questions: midget on midget porn? Or regular size human and Midget Porn? I didn’t think it was that weird because Tucker Max definitely sought out a midget to fuck. (Midget probably isn’t PC here, but I am ignoring that). Dan said he was into either and that it didn’t matter. He pulled out his laptop and started searching for some. He found a video and we started watching. It was kind of just like anyone else having sex except with more complications due to body shape and height.
Dan caressed my leg and asked if it turned me on. No? Nope. Frankly no.
However he kept it going and I realized this was going to happen no matter what so I closed my eyes and kept kissing him. Eventually we were naked and he went down on me which I thoroughly enjoyed. He came back up and pulled me in close ready to slide his dick in, but stopped for a moment. He was touching himself –and I assumed to get a little harder before we fucked. I was lying there naked and he knelt in front of me jacking off. I didn’t know what I should be doing to help him get harder so I started touching my nipples and moaning a bit.
And then he came. All over me. Without warning, without reason. He just did.
That had never happened to me before. A man just jacked off in front of my waiting vagina. It was odd and sticky. I used a towel to clean off, got dressed, and left. I saw Dan every day I attended class from there on out, but I never hung out with him ever again.
And Midget porn still doesn’t turn me on.
UPDATES THAT YOU MAY OR MAY NOT GIVE TWO FUCKS ABOUT
1. I am moving to NYC in the end of May. (1.5 –yes the boyfriend is coming too).
2. This blog exists for three reasons: All the emails I get from blackout sex inquiries and the stories those people share with me. I still have good stories like this and WordPress just charged me to keep this for a year. Finally, incase the book ever comes out, it will I promise, I’d like to be able to tell everyone that.
3. That being said, if you’re new here: The Shit show doesn’t exist anymore. That person is stuffed deep down inside of the middle school teacher, living with her boyfriend, adult I now seem to be. BOO I’M A WHORE. I know.
4. The OM got kicked off WP? That’s amazing. I also have probably dropped some douchey comments on your shitty blogs recently because I’m always lurking and continually hoping the Unfortunate Virgin never gets laid.
The other day at beers after work we were talking about the price of a blowjob. What’s enough? What’s an absurd amount? How much, is too much? Some would say it matters who you’re giving it to, but that’s not how this business works. The only thing that matter is who you work for.
High end hooker in Vegas: $900
Posting your own ad on Craigslist: $200
Casual creep from a dating site offer: $50
I told everyone I had been offered $50 for a blowjob once. Of course I turned down the offer– I’d been paid 10x the amount.
However the whole event got me thinking about the time I almost took a receptionist job I was offered in exchange for sex. But let me back up and explain how the whole thing happened.
I had just graduated from college, was suffering from anxiety attacks, was jobless and beyond broke. It was the perfect time to way to head to Blackhawk. Blackhawk is an Indian Reservation in Colorado and if that doesn’t mean anything to you, just think Vegas. Well more of a in the mountains log cabin sweaty old people Vegas.
Ky and I got real drunk and asked the signer that night to have a drink with us. He was sexy singing Bruno Mars from far away, but up close he seemed to have a constant upper respiratory infection and was at least 45 and had smoked and drank his entire life. He did that thing where he sucked up all his snot to ‘hock a loogie’ but then swallowed it.
Meanwhile I was pursuing Craigslist for odd jobs, and by odd jobs I mean men who wanted to ‘$poil’ someone. It was really all my roommates fault as she discovered Seeking Arrangements and I was destined to make real money without having a job. Well I was looking in the section for hook ups and sure enough there was a post: Receptionist Wanted.
It didn’t elude to sex but given the category I found it in, I figured something was up. I sent the email asking for more than $10.50/hr and sent a photo and immediately got a reply. Luckily Gmail is creepy and has saved these emails from years ago
“I am sorry if you are getting multiple e-mails from me.
I looked in my sent box and i did not see a message went through.
It pays well above $10.50 an hour and have full health benefits.
I will need a resume. When would you be able to start and please tell me some more of what you would be looking for in the job.”
I had to actually apply for position so I sent my résumé and pretended I was qualified to work there. After a few backs and forth about the actual job and a few pictures of my face, I asked how he imagined the whole sex part would work.
“I did not really have to much of a plan on how it would all work but i had a thought that it would be nice to have someone that would be up for some occasional casual excursions .. Not all the time and it would be discrete. So i thought i would see if there was someone that would be up for both. And you would have the benefits of a well paying stable job. I am an athletic fun outgoing professional person. Any thought on how you would have it?”
I said I didn’t know, but then I agreed to meet him for the interview and he sent me a photo of himself.
It was hard to say either way if he was fuckable but I was desperate for the job. I was on the verge of having to move back to my parents and I had already sold all my valuable belongings. At this point in my life I hadn’t ever traded sex for money, or gifts, but a job? That seemed reasonable.
Long story short they hired someone else. When the Office Doctor shook my hand though he smiled like he knew I was applying for the position. Apparently all the other candidates had applied through a regular job site and I was the only one willing to be his dream receptionist. I wrote him an email saying it didn’t seem ethical enough. I didn’t ever want my job to depend on my desire to have sex with someone. My money? Sure– fair enough. But my job security? Too much pressure.
He contacted me later to ask if I just wanted to fuck for cash, but I lived far away and had more easily accessible clients at this point.
He offered me $50 for a blowjob and I told him to go back to Craigslist.
I’m worth more than that.
Ask mutha fuckin anyone.
Hi, I’m your new Urban Dictionary: Middle School Edition. I bring you the latest 12-year-old inner city slang and translate it into meaningful words for your pleasure.
Shade: A way to describe someone being rude or disrespectful. It’s often expressed in the form of a verb, something you throw at someone. Example: “Don’t throw shade” which directly translates to something like, ‘don’t be a cunt and everything that comes along with that’. You can also just say, ‘ohhh, shade’ to someone who rolls their eyes at you.
I’m Dead: This means you’ve either said something really funny, or really stupid. It’s a way of saying, stop I seriously can’t handle this anymore. Often it’s when you’re caught off guard by how ridiculous something is. Example: ‘My mom is a prostitute.’ ‘What? I am dead.’
Wavy: This means that something or someone is really cool. For the older folk it is the new version of rad, tight, awesome. Example: That skirt is wavy.
Salty: This word is used to refer to a mood of negativity. Usually brought on by people, or life, throwing you shade. It can be used for different degrees of anger by clarifying with a ‘tad salty’ or ‘real salty’. Example: Jim stole the last cookie without asking and I was real salty.
THOT: A thot is an acronym used for ‘that ho over there’ or ‘those hoes over there’ for the plural. Mostly just refers to someone who is a skank, or anyone who talks to your boyfriend. It’s often used with incorrect grammar. Example: That bitch is a thot. You can also say thottie to refer to a hot ho.
Lay The Sheets: This is a phrase that talks about sex. It also has the hand motion of someone laying out sheets over a bed. They use this for sex because a man has to lay down new sheets over the ones that he sleeps on to avoid a mess later. It’s actually genius. Example: I would lay the sheet for that thot.
I’m Weak: This refers to when someone is laughing to hard to contain themselves any longer. Usually at the point of tears or pants pissing. Example: I’m sorry I’m just so weak right now.
Can’t Even: This phrase is used to explain when you just can’t handle the situation and you aren’t even able to elaborate the situation present. Most often brought on by a ridiculous amount of stress or drama. Example: ‘Tre just texted me again. I can’t even right now. I can’t even’. You can also say, ‘On a scale of one to even, I literally can’t’.
Baddie: This refers to a girl that is so sexy, she causes you to raise your hand to your mouth and say ‘oooohhhhhh’ when talking about her. Example: She’s one hell of a baddie. OR I would lay the sheets for that baddie.
Plenty more to come in the future. Stay Tuned. Meanwhile go get an ello and follow me @classycushman
When new people meet my ma, I always make her tell this one embarrassing story from her childhood and then I laugh until I cry. She was overweight for most of her young adult life and she had just bought a new swimsuit. Her mother (my grandmother) told her she looked beautiful and she and her five brothers went outside to play in the sprinklers. Of course at the exact moment my ma decided to say a ‘fuck you’ to the haters and just enjoy the sunshine, a car drove by and someone yelled out, ‘What is that thing?’
This is when I burst into tears of laughter.
It’s truly cruel what they said. My ma is now a twig and I don’t believe she has eaten a meal since 1980 or even earlier. She still calls herself fat.
When I was a little kid I was made fun of all the time for being fat. Although I wasn’t ever fat. The truth was that my step sisters were much smaller individuals who had cool clothes that I always wanted to borrow. I would squeeze my adolescent stomach rolls into them and pray for the buttoning of each item. To this day I still have dreams about clothes being in my closet that I want, but they are too small to fit into.
My teacher once asked me if I needed clothes that fit me properly. I was mortified and obviously ashamed. I had shoved myself into tiny enough clothes that my ma was being accused of neglect.
My shirts would always give me rolls like this.
Of course really my ma was being nothing but a saint. She knew I never wanted to buy the size up from my step sisters so she bought me the smaller clothes and told me I was beautiful, just like her mother had. If you saw pictures of me as a child I looked just like every other kid, but I was bullied until middle school nonetheless.
I’ve never really been ‘fat’. I think I gained the freshmen 15 at NYU but my athletic frame wore it rather well. Even then no one teased me for my weight, at least not to my face.
I am a size four, but I’ve woken up every other day for the last 10 years having a ‘fat day’. I look at myself in the mirror and feel bad about whatever I ate the night before. I grasp my thighs and squeeze them until I can see cellulite and then run in place and look in the mirror at what giggles. I then look at my ribs and hip bones and lean different ways seeing if I can make them stick out to where someone would offer me a cookie. I flex both arms and shake my head at the creepy muscles that stick out above my boobs and then grab my triceps fat and wonder what my arms would look like if they were thinner. I decide if I have real abs or just fat person abs and then usually try to create back fat rolls by leaning to one side and sigh, defeated.
Truthfully some form of this happens to all women.
I usually only wake up feeling skinny if I crashed from exhaustion the night before and haven’t eaten in over 24 hours, or if I’ve been puking from too much booze for a while. All the dehydration and lack of nutrients usually make everything look better although I feel as though my insides have rotted. Then I promise to never eat again which usually lasts only a few hours.
When I’m done with that I hold my hair up and feel that it’s flat and boring and wish it were longer. I push my face nearly against the mirror and stare at my large pores and then wish my unibrow hairs would just stop growing. I grab my nose and imagine what a nose job would look like and pout my lips to make them look bigger. Eventually I give up and look away from the mirror and wonder if everyone sees what I see.
Growing up with a ma who suffers from an eating disorder while being an extreme athlete at some point builds a complex. However, women these days don’t even need anyone in their life to build a complex for them. The world around us tells us we’re not skinny enough, pretty enough, smart enough, dumb enough, curvy enough, we don’t have big enough boobs, or make enough money, it’s defeatist, and absolutely defeating.
Despite spending probably countless hours looking in the mirror the last 10 years, beating myself up, degrading my qualities, and questioning my beauty, I love myself. In fact I love myself more than I could ever love anyone.
I’ve never encountered a man who didn’t want to have sex with me. I’ve never encountered a female who didn’t compliment something about me, or who is jealous of something I have physically. I’ve been told a countless number of wonderful things about myself, and while I believe them to be true, I still stood in front of the mirror giving myself a long hard look after eating four pieces of pizza last night. I’ve accepted that maybe I’ll always spend that time in the mirror, and that maybe I’ll always have ‘fat days’ because I bet even Victoria’s Secret models do too.
Lately society has turned from condemning women for not being good enough, to condemning them for believing they’re not good enough. We get criticized for self-criticism and shamed for not recognizing our innate, individual beauty. Thus, reminding us that we’ll still, never be good enough.
Okay Dove. We get it. There’s still no Dove Fashion Show each year.
This is useless.
And maybe that’s the truth. Maybe we won’t ever be good enough. And maybe, just maybe if you learn to love yourself, and the weird way you stare into the magnified mirrors at your blackheads, you’ll love yourself so much, that it no longer matters what anyone else says about you. Good or Bad.
If you haven’t heard of Ello that’s because you live under a rock, or haven’t read any of the latest newspaper headlines, or watched Comedy Central, or been on eBay. Incase that’s the case, Ello is the new social media site that’s taking the world by storm. Here are some questions you might have:
How do you get an Ello? Well you have to request an invite. That’s right, it’s like the secret society of Yale social media site. Of course I believe they’re getting 45,000 requests per hour so yours isn’t exactly likely to be seen. (DON’T GIVE UP YET, KEEP READING)
Why is Ello amazing? It’s ad free. Seriously. COMPLETELY AD FREE. They also don’t tell you what you can and cannot post and they don’t monitor what you can and cannot see on your news feed. They also don’t sell your data. Seriously.
What’s different about it? Well for starters, you have two categories: Friends and Noise. Friends is for the people you actually care about and noise is for the rest. That way if you want to see stuff from only the people worth your while you can do so. Then when you get real bored, like already jacked off twice bored, you can click the Noise tab. Here’s the best part: No one knows whether or not you have them in Friends or Noise so go ahead– Noise everyone.
Is there a cap on who I follow? Nope, it’s more like twitter, or tumblr, or WordPress this way. Millions of people can put you into their friends category and you never have to read or see what they say. It’s brilliant.
Why should I want one? Well is a space for artists and since you think you’re capable of writing you might want to be a break out star on this new platform. Of course you have to have talent in order for that to happen, but it’s worth a shot.
You want in right? You should mostly because that’s where all my writing is these days. Well, I’m here to tell you that people are selling their invites on eBay for over a hundred dollars right now. I’m also not making a joke here.
Oh, but wait. That’s right. I know the creator and happen to have invites just sitting over here in my lap looking lonely and needy. Drop your email (and probably some justification for why you’re better than the 45,000 other people this hour) and I’ll gladly send you one.
The last thirty minutes of my life says more about me than I care to admit. Often people ask me to tell them about myself and I find that to be a complexing statement. Whenever I am asked, I fail to conjure up any sort of redeeming thing to say and once came back with, ‘I really like jeans.’
Fortunately I said that to a boy who didn’t truly care about much other than my vagina so he ignored it and we moved on. Next time someone asks, I’ll consider telling them this story:
I came home from work rather hungry as teaching twelve year olds is more intensive than I could have ever imagined. I looked into the cupboard at my boyfriend’s house at the shambles of food I had gathered from my mothers. Teachers get paid at the end of the month, which means I am rollin’ in the dough of about five dollars. I saw pasta, and beef fried rice. I recalled that I had ground turkey in the freezer and thought I could make things work.
Everything I make tastes like shit. Seriously, unless its a PB&J or grilled cheese. It’s not even that I try to cook and suck, it’s that I honestly couldn’t give two fucks about cooking. I have head giving skills that top any chef (woah, big claim, not sure how I feel about it) so I’m not too worried. I wasn’t working with great materials to begin with. The beef fried rice box was Hamburger Helper. I know that even as a child I never really enjoyed anything that came out of one of those boxes, but I continue to eat from them on principle. When I was a kid my brand new step-father said, “No more of this ‘poor’ food from now on” to my mother and I was offended. Of course he couldn’t make anything, but he had no problem suggesting my Ma make something better.
I was annoyed that our ‘poor’ had offended him. He wasn’t exactly well off and he has been the sole reason that my Ma has never left the status of ‘poor’ ever since. With his minimum wage jobs, we ended up actually getting that box of beef fried rice from the food bank. For a time it was the only place we could get food, and I’ll tell you right now, 80% of what you get is expired. I also didn’t look at the date on the box and still won’t go look.
Oh my fucking god. Just now I was google searching images for Hamburger Helper trying to find something good, but really they’re lame. However, the single most embarrassing moment of my life happened. I got it: Hamburger Helper is shit you can throw in with hamburger to help it not just be a giant pile of meat. I’m disappointed even more than I thought possible in myself.
The ground turkey was frozen and probably had been for about 6-12 months. I bought it on one of my health kicks before I got real with myself and went back to pizza. I googled around and it said it would only taste best within four months, but it was my only resource so I said ‘fuck it’ to caution and taste right out of the gate. I decided to microwave it a bit being impatient and then head to the stove top.
About 25 minutes later I had done what I needed and mixed everything together. I took a few bites and hated it. It tasted like the one dollar cans of beef & vegetable soup at Wal-mart. Seriously it was awful and lifeless. Forcing myself to not waste food, I ate a few bites more before I threw it all out. Every last bit.
In the next five minutes I produced heavy sweats and felt like fainting and then immediately threw up. This is the main reason I refuse to go look at either of the sale dates because part of me just knows better. There’s a reason they created Domino’s and that reason is me.
On Monday something strange and amazing happened to me. After sex I lay lifeless in bed, catching my breath, when I felt something wet on my cheek. No, surprisingly it was semen, it was salt water. I was crying tears of joy from my orgasms. Yeah, tears of fucking joy.
I couldn’t even form a thought, which is quite impressive considering I spend my every waking moment Nicholas Cage-ing my life. You know how Nick is always doing the voice over for all his movies? Well I’m basically doing a constant voice over of my life in the moment, every moment. However, after sex I could only form two thoughts, ‘Oh my fucking god’ and ‘Oh my fucking god’. I was envisioning myself walking through the emptiness within my own brain, like the forever encompassing whiteness in movies, and it was glorious.
Today I’m celebrating a year with my boyfriend. I know, it’s hard to believe right? I myself am a little perplexed on how I went from never managing a sleepover to successfully maintaining something so wonderful for so long. I’m rather lucky, and I think it goes without saying that he is too. I mean he’s dating the head giving champion of the world who is also a god of mankind. Seriously though, him and I are in a win-win.
I’m sorry these are two of my favorite things so wrongly combined. I’m tingling.
This got me thinking though, how does one attain the unattainable? Settle down with those who won’t? Capture the restless? Get a serial dater to be monogamous? and that is what I’m here to explain. Of course this advice is based on the idea that you’ve already got a girl who likes you and now you want her to stick around. I have no fucking clue how you’re supposed to pull off the ‘getting a girl to like you’ because you may be really ugly, or not funny, or stupid, or willfully ignorant, or a million different things that makes getting a girl to like you really fucking hard. I can’t fix that, but if you make it this far, this is what I’ve got.
Here are five tips to getting a girlfriend, and also how each can backfire if you fuck them up.
1. Eat Pussy. Do it as soon as she lets you, and do it often. If you’re good at it, most girls can’t get enough of it and everyone wants the boyfriend who is going to eat their pussy as if it’s their only source of food. There’s something magical about a tongue on your vagina that cannot be replicated by anything else.
Here’s how it backfires: If you only go down on a girl until you get her to be your girlfriend and then all of a sudden stop doing it she will find someone else who is eager to do so.
2. Have A Life. Be someone who has passions, commitments, and goals. It’s never attractive to be free all the time as if you’re sitting around waiting to spend time with her and it’s only the second date. You need to do things so you have something to talk about, something to be about.
Here’s how it backfires: Too much of a life and she’ll find someone who can make more time for her. Faking a life and she’ll figure out your so called ‘desire to help the poor people in Africa’ was just a ploy to get down her pants and she’ll meet someone in the Peace Corps.
3. Get All Up In Her. I mean this both physically and mentally. Yes it’s important to put your dick where she wants you to when she wants you to, but it’s also important to get inside her mind. Who is she? What kind of person is she? What does she value? What are her pet peeves? Goals? Driving factors? A girl likes to feel like her opinions and thoughts are heard and validated.
Here’s how it backfires: Get to know her and then judge her? She’ll find someone else who is less of a douche. Get to know her and then ask to change her? She’ll find someone who is less of a douche. Ask for her opinion and then don’t value it? She’ll find someone who is less of a douche.
4. Embrace Independence. The reason it’s so hard to tie a girl down sometimes is because being single is the fucking tits. I know a lot of people complain about the cold lonely nights, but I think they’re forgetting the hot sweaty drunken ones. Single symbolizes freedom, and that freedom is key to a lot of people’s happiness. You need to recognize and respect it’s importance. No, I’m not suggesting you let her fuck some strange occasionally, but don’t tell her who to be, or what to do and she’ll respect you.
Here’s how it backfires: Tell her you don’t care what she does (which is very far off from just not telling her what to do) and she’ll assume you don’t care at all and move on. Tell her you think you both should have the freedom to do whatever you want, and she’ll put you into the category of fuck buddy.
5. Know And Love Yourself. This might be the biggest factor out of all of them. Before you’re going to be able to even begin to express that you have the capacity to love someone else, you’ve got to love yourself. This takes a shit ton of work. You need to know your flaws and work on them. You need to know your strengths and use them. A lot of girls walk away from a good guy because he doesn’t seem sure of who he is, and it’s impossible to fall for someone you can’t get to know.
Here’s how it backfires: Love yourself too much and you’re like a walking orange character from the Jersey Shore. No one likes someone who ‘loves’ himself to the point where he can’t see his own faults. Pretend to love yourself and she’ll run screaming the first time you break down during a Full House episode that just really caught you off guard. No one is ever prepared for that. Ever.