Over the past year, besides the haters and overall miscreants, I would say that there are more positives than negatives when it comes to having a blog. The cool people you encounter, the interesting blogs that you are introduced to, I don't have much to complain about when it comes to documenting my life on the world wide web. Except, I have one tiny complaint that has haunted me a few times, because people that I know who read my blog interrupt me during my stories because they have read about it already. Nothing makes you feel more uninteresting, and geeky by the way, then to have someone interrupt you and say, "Wait, didn't I read that in your October 13th entry??" Recently I had my eye on one of my cousins friends, with visions of inappropriately smacking her ass mid coitus, knowing that it would be over rather quickly but acting like a stallion for approximately 2 minutes and 35 seconds.(Yes, I have timed myself) Well, when I tried to dazzle her with one of my rogue-like philosophies that I figured would amaze her to no end, she said that she had already heard that on my blog. FUCK!!
But worst of all is when someone goes into your archives, finds something that you have written, and label you a "hypocrite" based on their personal experiences with you. See, a while ago I briefly dated a woman who was in the medical profession, and because of her constant unavailability and my penchant for blogging and Internet porn our "relationship" was strictly a sexual one. Anyway, she called me recently to tell me that not only does she read my blog, but something that I wrote in this piece prompted her to giggle and call me a hypocrite. Even though the piece was obviously fiction, she found it ironic that I called the sexual experience with Mariah Carey "10 Commandment sex" because of her stringent rules, when I am exactly the same way. We talked for a while as she broke down my specific love making habits and I realized that she was right, my goddmaned blog was my undoing once again. Without being crass and turning this into a erotica blog, here are some "boot knocking" idiosyncrasies that I realized that I have.
Tongue in ear: Ever since experiencing those stolen moments of "first girlfriend" bliss with Marie Rivera, I learned that nothing makes me more uncomfortable than a tongue my ear. I guess a lot of people like this ritual, having a slippery object in your ear squishing around like putting your eardrum in a car-wash, but personally nothing will make me move my head faster than a woman attempting this on me. Besides me just flat out hating it, I would say that being a germaphobe contributes to this dislike, having the nastiest part of your body(mouth) entering a part of the body that has to rank somewhere near the mouth on that particular list. I dated a girl once that felt that she just "had" to do that to me, it was a need, like she had a compulsive disorder or something. Sadly, more times than not I let her do it while I suffered in silence, sort of like a prison rape minus the anal thrusting part. I didn't appease her because I wanted to do whatever I could and be an unselfish lover, sacrificing for the greater good of promoting an orgasm in said lover, I simply did it because she had great tits and for a blogger who masturbates like mad there was no telling when I would get an opportunity like that one again.
Hair Pulling: Looking back on my sexual experiences all I can do is laugh when I think of specific women and their over emotional reactions during sex. The scratching, excessive breathing, and even one time being called "Black Jesus" mid coitus is laughable, but also acceptable. But one thing that I can do without, regardless of how hot the woman is, is hair pulling. Granted, I know that I have grown my locks for 10 years and they are so long that I was recently heard uttering the phrase "you know your hair is getting too long when you have to adjust your hair to wipe your ass!", that doesn't mean I give you permission to pull my hair. Some women get off on in, and they get off on my disapproval even more, prompting one woman to say "Get mad, that's right!" like she was a fucking dominatrix. I not only detest my hair being pulled because it being uncomfortable, but also because it makes me feel like someones bitch.(For someone that is insecure about his size, and the fact that a girl that I was dating was looking at baby pictures with my mom which prompted her to say "Ms. Critic, he is the same size now!!" as both of them laughed hysterically, a brother has maintain a masculine image.)
Body Food: Hey, I'm as freaky as the next guy, I am totally for using whipped cream on women, especially if they have been tested for every STD imaginable and I have talked to everyone that she has ever had sex with.(That's the Germaphobe in me) But sometimes the shit can get out of hand, women bringing so many toppings in the bedroom making a brother feel like a dreaklocked Sundae. Like this one time a woman I was dating used chocolate, whipped cream, sprinkles, Ice cubes, wax, for some reason butter, my body looked like I had just been molested in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. Things got worse because after you mixed all of those things together it starts to resemble vomit somewhat, a fact that made me sick and lose my lunch on the back of the woman who called herself being "sexually creative".(If you want a woman to never answer your calls, or emails, Morse code, or smoke signals, just vomit on her. Trust me, it works.)
Inappropriate moaning: When you tell a joke to a group of people and one of them laughs a bit too much, don't you want to say "Come on you douche-bag, that shit wasn't that funny"? Well, I can't claim to always know when a woman is faking an orgasm, primarily because you fuckers could win an Oscar for that shit, but I don feel that I can't spot a few "mailed in" performances though. Like this one time that I was having sex with a co-worker(which is wrong for the obvious reasons, but also because your co-workers suddenly start calling you Arsenio "Small" Ala the "Martin" show, which is a definite downside) While I was stroking in a way to make Ron Jeremy proud, or possibly to invoke pity from him, she was yelling like her fucking hair was on fire. At first I thought I was handling my business in a way that only a black blogger could, but after a while I saw past her rouse and figured out that she was faking her pleasurable outbursts. Even though I caught that specific culprit, it makes me wonder how many women I inappropriately giggled at thinking that they were faking it when the whole time she was dead serious. That kind of sucks, but I guess it just add to the "asshole" image so I'm OK with that.
Shut your ass up!!: I guess this sort of files under the "moaning" category also, but excessive talking irritates the piss out of me. I can deal with ramblings that are posed that don't require a specific answer like "Deeper!", "That's the spot baby", "It's yours", or my favorite "I could have used my finger and did more damage than you are doing" But the problem is when people expect answers to questions, like this one time when a chick asked "Do you like this baby??", me thinking that she was just spewing out random sex talk. I knew she wanted a definitive answer when she grabbed me by the head, looked me in the eyes and said "Do-you-like-this-baby??" like I was three years old and shit. I stopped and said, "Yeah I like it, now shut the fuck up asking me questions like I'm in High School.I suddenly feel like I am taking the S.A.T test all over again." But come to think about it I'm pretty anti-social anyway, I'm surprised that I spoke enough to get that woman in a position(pun intended) to have sex with me in the first place, so answering questions during sex is out.
Post game wrap-up: I am a kinder and gentler HumanityCritic, I know that most woman want to be held after sex. I mean, I don't particularly get it and think that me not leaving promptly should be enough of a sign of affection. But, the sensitive guy that I am, I throw my arm over whoever I am with post-sex long enough that they don't think that I am a total scumbag. So yes, I go the extra mile for my ladies. But one thing that I hate is constant post coitus chatter. I mean, I understand that some talking will take place, it's not like I insist that we sit in silence like we are meditating or some shit. It is just when whoever you are with wants to have a full fledged conversation, attacking you with machine like accuracy, making you think about things seriously, something that you don't want to particularly do. A brother has bigger things to worry about like "I hope that rubber didn't have a leak", "Why did this broad have so many condoms in her drawer, does that mean she is loose?", "I wonder if she achieved orgasm during our 3 minutes if fucking", and "I sure hope my Lakers do well this year". Important issues like that have to be thought about and analyzed, I don't want to talk Geo-politics or the women at work that want to get you fired.