We’ve all heard of (and probably tried out) Internet dating sites. Well, one of them called Ok Cupid has decided to use the information they’ve collected from their users through polls and profiles to make a statistical compilation in order to help fight negative presumptions about homosexuality.
Some really interesting information has come out of this project and I wanted to share it with you guys. They call it Gay Sex vs Straight Sex.
I noticed that a lot of our blog posts lately have been a little on the negative side… We’ve talked about heartbreak, rape, and evil politicians. This is the time of year when the sun sets earlier and earlier every day, the weather is getting chillier and the rain is falling heavily over our heads. I understand this has a huge mental impact on the city and its citizens. In fact, every major breakup I have been through took place in September/October.
There's no better way to get over a heartbreak than acknowledging straight up that you're acting like a teenager.
A few months ago, when I first got the job here at the Art of Loving, I distinctly remember thinking, "boy, I sure am glad I have a boyfriend, or this job could be seriously depressing." And in fact, one of my first days here, Aimee said to me, "this job is great, but it can be hell if you're heartbroken." Well, fast-forward to a few weeks ago, and I find myself very suddenly and unexpectedly without said boyfriend, and very certainly and certifiably heartbroken. I suppose that's what I get for being so self-assured.
I'm sure many of you have already heard about this, but it is important to talk about it so here goes.
Our current federal government is pushing hate-filled media onto our airwaves. Harper has a plan to create a News network called Sun News using the money from our cable fees. He wants to shove his conservative Fox-style "news" into our faces through his former top aide, who will be running the channel.
As the Friday night girl here at The Art of Loving, I think it's safe to say I deal with a fair number of the crank calls we get. They usually come in rapid succession, generally decreasing in the quality of character work from first to last, and almost always involving at least one question about blow-up dolls. In my expert detective opinion this points to a common source. Which in turns points to the fact that there are some sadly unimaginative parties going on in the city of Vancouver.
I recently discovered a website (you probably all already know about it, I'm a little slow on the "hey-have you seen this new hilarious site?" beat.
The site is www.textsfromlastnight.com
It is exactly as it seems. A list of random text messages sent and received about the previous night. They usually refer to things that happened, drunken things. Of course, such drunken things usually about some sex act or another. Most of these also refer to college and university students. As a dedication to all new students this school year, I wanted to share some of my favourites with you guys! Enjoy!
"Her divorce is going to cut into the amount of time we spend fucking."
Recently, in anticipation of moving yet again (ah, to be young and in debt), I've been going through my various possessions. Various with a capital V, really; I have SO MUCH SHIT. The pile for the thrift store is growing ever higher, and, despite being picked over thrice already by various friends and siblings, it is threatening to overspill its designated corner and wreak havoc on the rest of my otherwise orderly packing.
A few weeks ago, I was babysitting for a friend of mine. The child that was to be stuck with me for a few hours was a spunky 9 year old girl. She was not by any means shy about, well, anything.
As we were walking to my house, a local construction worker nodded hello, smiled, and made a vague comment about the lovely weather. For the first time since I'd met her, the young girl went quiet.
Dear phone perverts,
I thought of you today. Usually when I think of you, it's because you called me at work and forced me to listen to your heavy breathing, and a short description of what you'd do to me with your 12 inch cock. I'm sure you'd elaborate on your description if only I'd stop hanging up on you. Perhaps calling strangers puts a bit of a cap on your creativity?
When I was eighteen, I got cast in a one-act play called "Anal". It was not about someone with obsessive behaviours of organization.
Every evening my beau and I talk about and compare our daily activities over the internet. This is a very important factor in long-distance relationships because it makes us (almost) forget that we weren't physically present during said daily activities. He'll usually start by talking about brains and electromagnetic waves and the like. I tell him I read a book. "What about?" he then asks. "Vaginas". "Of course".
Recently, during a dating adventure, a man expressed interest in having me come back to his place for some afternoon romping fun. Since that is not at all what I am looking for, I explained that I am not looking for random hookups but am looking for a connection type relationship. I don’t need/want random hook ups, I have a solid relationship at home where I have great sex! He didn’t relent, so I offered him another option… Give me things, buy me things… Money, gifts, whatever… I will be as random and nsa as you want then. He thought I was joking at first, but I assured him I was not.
I'm not sure how it started, why it happened or who started it... but some sexy and BDSM-type styles have turned hipster. There are phases, like owl tattoos and looking like a starving lumberjack with giant 70s sunglasses and a handlebar 'stache. I'm not judging style-followers as fall for the occasional "She's wearing that, I wanna wear that" too.
So recently, as I’ve written about in the last bit, I have been dipping my toes into the world of dating. Its interesting, after 3 years, not much has changed. It kind of feels like a rat race and a job interview all in one, still fun, just a little crazy at times. A few things in particular have come to my attention as a bit of a pattern and I would like to address them, because they’re really starting to piss me off… So, I hope some men are reading and paying attention.
I was walking to work today, a casual stroll as I was early and enjoying the lack of rain and the quiet of a Sunday morning. In my calm state of mind, I naturally started fantasizing. Nothing too hard core, just little glimpses of what I’d be doing had I still been warm in bed with my partner. Suddenly a bicycle speeds in my direction so I stop to let it pass. I smile at the young man and with a slight show of his teeth, he hisses. That’s right, a man on a bike hissed at me. I kept walking but my fantasy was totally destroyed by this… odd and unnecessary act of defensiveness.
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