Hush Mama

Like most days, I spent a good amount of yesterday over at SingleBlackMale.org. And like most days, a little bit of bacchanal popped off. Like most days, my blogging boy Dr Jay Jack dropped the real talk on the ladies and a couple got a little upset. Like most days, what the ladies were upset about had very little to do with what Dr Jay Jack said.

Sidebar: no disrespect is intended by not linking to the post or the comments. I have another post planned where I dissect in more detail and I don't want your little heads distracted by that right now.

Anyway. This whole ladies getting riled up over basically nothing is as common a phenomenon in real life as it is on SBM. And if I were a man writing about this, a whole lot of ladies would be getting riled up at me for saying that. But the fact of the matter is, women love to start sh*t with men. We like to fight you and do you want to know why? So you can win.

Yeah - I said it. Deep down, a woman just wants a man who can put her in her place. This doesn't mean that we want a man to be abusive, dismissive, or mean, but we do want a man who knows when to bring out the "hush mama".  The hush mama (© emti) is when a man tells a woman in no uncertain terms to settle herself. And it is a beautiful thing.  I used to have a man who warned me that I was about to "fly past my nest" on the rare occasions that I was getting rowdy. It was so hot.

Of course there are a lot of men who don't know how to do this properly and that creates all types of problems. But there is a time and a place for the hush mama. Sometimes women act up because they want attention or because they've misunderstood something. Sometimes we get in a tizz over things that even we recognize are meaningless, but we've started and we can't back down now. And in these types of situations, there is nothing sexier than a hush mama.

You don't have to say "hush mama". You could say "calm yourself" or "sit down" or "don't fly past your nest". There are any number of ways you can tell your girl to settle down in a way that results in her being turned on rather than losing her shit. It's all about the circumstances and the delivery.

But let me say it again: a man who knows how to put me in my place is a fucking sexy man. 

Now if you've read my blog enough you know I'm not a spazzy kind of girl. I don't yell, nag, or forbid. But I am a hyper girl, a nervous girl, and a man who knows how to distinguish between legitimate anxiety and a dramatic moment and will shut it down has the potential to be Mr. Fab.

Ladies, I'm dying to hear what you think because I bet you don't know you agree with me. Can you see the appeal of a man who knows how and when to tell you to hush? And men - if you think you've mastered the hush mama, give me a call sometime let me know.

Older Women 101

A while back I wrote about the allure of the younger man. At that time, I hadn't  played in the sandbox experienced the phenomenon and wondered whether there were any drawbacks to getting involved with a young buck. Now after knocking back a few a bit more research, I know the answer is yes. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm still in favour of  the younger guy. I still think they bring the freshness and most women in their 30's need that. But, being young, they also need a little guidance when it comes to dealing with grown ups. What's cute and charming to a 25 year-old girl makes a 35 year-old stabby.

So without further ado, I give you Older Women 101: A Guide for Young Bucks (Don't you just love the term "young buck"?)

1. Time is money and outta sight, outta mind.

Two things I've noticed heard about younger guys: They're perpetually late and they disappear for weeks on end. Neither of these are cute and both must stop immediately. If I say come over at 7 and you show up at 9, I will be sleeping (my Twitter people can attest to this). And no I'm not going to wake up for you; don't you know that in your 30's sleep trumps sex? At least on weekdays.  

Similar to this, if we hook up on a day when there's snow on the ground and I don't hear from you again until my lilac tree is blooming, you have lost your place in my rotation. A drift-off is not a good look for any man, but for a young dude there is no recovering from this.

2. We're not gonna work for it

The whole point of getting with younger dudes is that they are easier to deal with than men our own age. You call when you say you're going to. You have time (or make time) for us. You are free with compliments. We're supposed to get from you that which your older counterparts withhold. So don't try to make me sweat you. What for? I'm too old to work for c*ck.

3. Hey how you doing just means hey how you doing

Don't get all shook just because your older girl extended some common courtesy to you. Offering you a beverage or a meal, texting to ask how your big day went, or offering to give you a ride somewhere are not signs that she's trying to be wifed. She's just being mannerly.

4. We don't (always) do sleepovers

Older women are particular about their shit. We don't want to sleep on your low-thread-count sheets or wash our faces with your hard water. We don't want to drink our morning OJ in a mug because you have no clean glasses. Just let us go home after the main event if that's what we want to do.

5. We don't care about your other girls

If you're spending time with an older woman and she asks you about your other women, she's not jealous. She's concerned about two things: your hygeine and your drama quotient. We're not trying to lock you down so there is no reason to lie. Or to get all freaked out and disappear for weeks on end.

Am I being a bit unfair here? Probably. But to me, the whole point of the arrangement is to achieve the zipless fuck. Easy, no strings, no muss, no fuss. So why you young bucks must muss and fuss it up with your bullshit is beyond me. But stop it right now before I put your ass in the naughty corner.

But what do you guys think? Ladies do you hold younger men to a higher standard than men your own age? Men are you willing to work harder for an older woman?

The Slow Dance

I don't know about you guys, but high school was a less than enthralling experience for me. I don't wax nostalgic on anything about that time...except one thing, the dances.  Particularly the end-of-the-night slow dance.

Ah the slow dance. It may just be the most slept-on courtship ritual. There's nothing like a slow grind to set your wheels to spinning, is there? It has all the elements you need: the dark room, the sexy music, the full-on body contact, all of this with the added titillation of being in public. Seriously - is there anything greater than a slow dance?

Remember when we were in high school and we would go to dances for the express purpose of having that slow dance with the girl or boy of our dreams? You didn't have to spend the whole night trying to talk to each other because there was a time for move-making: the end of the night. Of course, if the end of the night came and you didn't get your dance you were plummeted to the depths of misery, but oh well.

Unfortunately, like passing notes and cheer-leading uniforms, slow dances don't seem to fit in with adult life. It's such a tragedy. These days, when the slow jam portion of the evening comes, the ladies lean up on walls singing to each other and the men head to coat-check. Or their cars.

The dearth of slow dances has rendered a lot of really great songs almost useless so today I bring you my Top 20 Songs to Take a Grind To.

1.   Turn off the Lights - Teddy Pendergrass

2.   Crazy for You - Madonna

3.   Act Right - Teairra Mari (although I feel like I am the only person in the world who even knows this song)

4.   Night Nurse - Gregory Isaacs

5.   Birthday Sex - Jeremih

6.   I Don't Want to Do Anything  + Freak N You - Jodeci

7.   Storm - Glenn Lewis (If you follow me on twitter you already know this song makes me want to do bad things...)

8.   Me and Mrs. Jones - Billy Paul

9.   Let's Wait Awhile - Janet Jackson

10. Untitled - D'Angelo (if for no other reason than the opportunity to play that video in your head while you're dancing...oh lord) 

11. Missing You - Case

12. O - Omarion

13. Rock Me Tonight - Freddie Jackson

14. So Anxious + Stingy - Ginuwine

15. Stroke You Up - Changing Faces

16. Take Away - Missy Elliott

17. These Arms of Mine - Otis Redding

18. You Are My Lady - Freddie Jackson

19. It Kills Me - Melanie Fiona

20. Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin (Random? Yes. But it was always the last song at my high school dances so it wins for nostalgia. Plus it's like 20 minutes long so you get a good looooooong grind)

So tell me people - do you guys miss slow dancing too? Or is it still part of your life as an adult? What are your favourite songs to grind to?

A Throwback Post - Why I Don't Date White Guys

Sorry guys - it's been one of those weeks. But here's another oldie but goodie for you.

Years ago when I was in school I had these two friends Adam and Cory. They were the kind of white guys I hate now...loved hip hop and thought that made them "down", called each other "bro", you know the type. I really only tolerated them because Adam was kinda cute.

Anyway, these dudes were responsible for the only two experiences I’ve ever had with white guys - which is amazing if you consider that I grew up in London Ontario. One was the fabulous Bobby who kissed me for the first time in his parents' bathroom next to the Elvis clock and with whom I got down 'n dirty in his jeep on the grounds of Brescia College - where the nuns live in London.

I know - I was scandalous.

Anyway, the other we'll call JP. And JP was, well, straight up whiter than the whitest white man. Let’s take a look:

He was from PEI
He played hockey
He had some kind of mullet

But ole JP had two things going for him: he was adorable and he was riding my jock hard. So yeah I let him take me out a couple of times and yes I went home with him one night. 

We lay on his bed and it was lovely. Oh, so lovely. Until JP had um, an equipment malfunction?

"Poor thing" I thought. Because as embarrassed as I was, I knew he had to be absolutely mortified. "I’m sorry!" he nearly sobbed. "I’m so sorry!" "It’s okay" I murmured encouragingly. I really felt bad for him. Until this:

"I’m so upset! I waited my whole life to be with a black girl and here you are and look!"(gesturing southward)

Um, yeah. so not only have you wasted my time, and left me with blue "balls", but you thought it was a good idea to tell me I’m the living manifestation of some massa-mammy fantasy you've been harbouring?!?

I was not impressed. But not wanting to kick a "man" when he's down (literally), I calmly got up and left, not letting on just how much I wanted to smack his pasty face. 

but then
but THEN
but then he never called me!

The No-Cry Zone

As a woman who is blessed with many male friends, I hear a lot of stories about sex. First-time sex in particular. And lately I've noticed an alarming trend among these stories. Far too many of them end with "and then she started crying". Yep. They start crying. It seems women all over the world city are meeting men in clubs, at brunch, online, going home and f*cking them, and then crying talking about they've never done this before and they're not that kind of girl.

Oh ladies - I have such a bone to pick with you. You cannot do this. You simply cannot. First of all, there is only one reason to cry during sex. That is when the shit is so good that you just spontaneously burst into tears (Sidebar: has this ever happened to you? It's amazing). That's the only reason it's ever okay to cry during sex. Period.

Second, if you're going to start crying during sex because you're so consumed with worry that the man won't respect you afterward, at least have the decency to make up a lie when he asks you why you're crying. If you're scrambling for a good line, try "the shit was so good I just spontaneously burst into tears". Men love that.

Third, if you meet a man and go home with him that same night and f*ck him, you are that kind of girl. There's no equivocation about that. You need to accept it and own it. And you know what? There are worst kinds of girls to be.

Now if you're one of these idiots girls who does this, you're probably wondering why it's such a big deal. Well, beside the fact that it's really (really) pathetic, let me tell you something - dumb asses like you make life more difficult for normal women. Because of girls like you who can't handle casual sex, men who just want to bone find it necessary to lie about it. Because they're afraid we're gonna do exactly what you did - act stupid. So please, as a gesture of goodwill toward your fellow women, effing stop it.

This is the part of the post where I ask you if you have any experience with the topic but honestly ladies, if you've ever cried after sex because you feared that the man wouldn't respect you, I want you to get off my site don't want to hear about it. Actually same goes for any man reading who has done this. But if anyone out there has a compelling reason why this might be okay, I'd love to hear it.

I Wanna Little Sugar in my Bowl

If you've read this blog even once before then you know I'm a pretty forthright person. Despite that, I tend to keep the more um, intimate details of my life out of my blog. But at the risk of over-sharing, I have a confession for you all today: 

My sugar bowl is empty.

Sidebar: If you're not a Nina Simone fan and/or have never seen Point of No Return you might want to go over here now and get caught up. I'll wait for you to come back.

Okay so back to my sugar bowl. It's empty. Depleted. Devoid of even so much as one grain of sweetness. And I'm starting to get real salty because of it.  As anyone who knows me in real life can attest, when I run out of sugar I get cranky and obsessed. It's pretty much all I can think about and all I want to talk about. It bores me so I know it must be stultifying for my friends but I figure if I'm suffering, I'm taking everyone I know down with me.

But despite my ire, I recognize that a dearth of sugar is one of the by-products of the single life. When you choose not to sign on with any one sugar distributor, it stands to reason that you will occasionally have to endure gaps between shipments. But what's a gal to do when her sweet-tooth is calling and there's no sugar in the bowl?

Now before my various inboxes become flooded with offers, let me qualify something here. I'm out of sugar but I'm not looking for the generic stuff. I live across the street from No-Frills, I could run across and pick up a box of No Name brand for 89 cents and be on my way. But no - when my wet thumb has picked up every last granule from the bottom of the bowl I'm looking for premium sugar. The kind that has an ICUMSA number below 50. You know, top of the line shit. And I want my own sugar, not a cup borrowed from a neighbour or stolen from a coffee shop. And I want it to be sweet as possible, not the cheapo stuff that's almost sour.

So again, what's a girl to do? A quick Google search came up short, so as usual I took it to the streets. I wanted to know what other people do when they've squeezed the last drop of juice out of their last piece of sugar cane. It seems the most common way to deal with a sugar-famine is to sublimate: you eat it, drink it, or work it out.  The first two definitely don't work for me; stuffing alternate orifices seems to only remind me that my most important one is agonizingly vacant. Working out is a mild form of torture in my mind so I doubt that would work for me either. A lot of people also recommended um, banging it out myself but I fear I'm past the point where that would be helpful. As I told my bestie the other night (and here is where we part ways with the euphemism), masturbating when you're horny is like eating a chocolate rice cake when you're craving brownies. Yeah you got chocolate and your belly is full but it's just not the same.

So I ask you, dear readers, what do you do when your well has run dry? Are any of the suggestions I was given worth a go, or do you have a tried and tested trick I'm not yet aware of? Does everyone get stabby when they run out of sugar or do I have some kind of problem? Educate me - or commiserate with me - in the comments.

5 Reasons Why You Didn't Count

Love is a game and we all have a score. But unfortunately for all of us, your score isn't calculated based on your virtues, it's based on your bedmates. And scoring too high can be the kiss of death for some girls.

Now plenty of people will argue that in this day and age the number of partners we've had shouldn't matter and is no one's business. Most people don't even ask the question anymore. But please believe that plenty of girls would find themselves suddenly single if their number were to be disclosed to their man.

To solve this problem, we gals have come up with a system that enables us to tell the truth without telling the truth damaging our chances with a prospective mate. While we're compiling our mental list to arrive at our final count, we simply add "but that didn't count" at the end of any name we wish to strike from our history. Brilliant, no?

Now the reason this method of creative accounting is different from outright lying is that you can't just discount any man you want. A man in your past has to meet certain criteria to be disqualified from your list. So men if you're wondering if that santeria you put on the girl from the club last week is going to end up with a big red line through it, let me share with you the top 5 reasons a woman can cross you off her list:

1. It was a one-time thing.

You can't cross a boyfriend off your list unless you're me, but think of a one-night stand as something lightly scribbled in pencil on the notepad of our sexual history. A gal who meets a man, hooks up with him once, and goes on her merry way never to hear from him again is highly unlikely to rank that encounter as worthy of adding an extra digit to her number. Especially if her score is 9 or 19.

2. She was drunk.

This is the only one I've never used, simply because I don't drink.But please believe that if you slammed a girl while she was polluted with drunkenness she woke up the next morning and crossed your name off her list quicker than you can say lying ho. Please believe that.

3. She was on the rebound and/or she's out of your league.

Sometimes when a girl gets her heart broken, she just needs you to slip in a quick one to speed up the recovery process. No girl who has been dumped wants to walk around knowing that the man who rejected her was the last one to touch her lady parts so in a moment of weakness, she will succumb to another man's advances just to erase the ex-boo's stench from her memory. In the same way that eating a greasy breakfast when you're hungover doesn't count as cheating on your diet, sleeping with a human gorilla when you're heartbroken doesn't mean you've added a number to your list.

Sidebar: this only works when the dude is highly unsuitable. If a girl gets dumped and slams Idris Elba in retaliation, she's putting him on her list. And telling the ex-man about it.

4. He was a friend.

We're not talking about a fuck-buddy here, because you can't really cross a fuck-buddy off your list. But if you're the male bestie of a hot girl and you occasionally get it on with her, you are not on her list. No way, no how. That's a waste of a number.

5. No one knows.

Any woman with half a brain knows that if the sex was a secret it doesn't count. So if you're lying there in post-coital bliss and she whispers "we can keep this just between us, right?", just get up and draw a line through your existence because you absolutely do not count.

6. It was weak sauce
I almost forgot this. Thank you Honey Matthews for reminding me! If the shit was less than five minutes, your piece is less than an inch long, or you couldn't stay hard, you do not count.

Those are my top reasons, but as usual my blogging boy Dr. Jay has done it better over here. Take a peek. You'll laugh your ass off.

So tell me ladies, have you ever crossed a name off your list? Men would you be offended if a woman decided that sex with you didn't count?

First-Date Sex

At the end of my last first date, the dude suggested we retire to his bedroom. I laughed, thinking he was kidding. He wasn't. He proceeded to explain to me that the notion that it’s a bad idea for a woman to give it up on the first date is antiquated. "All the same," I told him "I think I'll pass on the generous invitation". The next morning he sent me a 500-word missive that further explained why first-date sex is okay.

I brushed that incident off as a one-off and continued with my stance on first-date sex: not a good idea unless you don't like the guy. But lately I've been coming across more and more blog posts in favour of the first-date dance. Then last week I read Jack from Brooklyn's "Dismantling the Myth of First Night Nookie".

I think we have a movement on our hands here.

A recent Twitterpoll suggests that 99% of the men I know think there is nothing wrong with having sex on the first date. The answers ranged from "totally acceptable" to “I don't think you can have such a static standard about sex anymore”. Sounds encouraging, right? At long last we gals can give in to our carnal urges and gleefully spread our legs whenever we please without repercussions. Let horny women everywhere rejoice.

The thing is though that of the men who said that first date sex is okay, most of them also said that they would respect the woman less afterward and their intentions toward her would change once she gave up the goods.  The general consensus among these fools guys was basically if we’re giving it up they’re taking it, but we can kiss any hope we had of wifey status goodbye. Only a handful of dudes said that their opinions of the women would stay the same after sex.

So has anything really changed? I doubt it. Women's lib notwithstanding, there is still a huge double-standard when it comes to first-date sex. A man will go on a first date with a woman, attempt to sleep with her and have the nerve to lose respect for her if she gives in without ever once stopping to worry about whether she has lost respect for him.

So what's a gal to do? What she's comfortable with, I guess. I once slept with a man on the first date and stayed with him for years afterward. Max 1.0 slept with men on the first date and never heard from them again. At the end of the day, I have two pieces of advice to share. Ladies:  if you want the man to know you're about more than sex, you probably shouldn't lead with your pussy. And men: get over the idea that a woman's pussy is the most interesting thing about her. Fucking her does not mean you've conquered her.

What do you guys think? Are we off the notion that first-date sex automatically rules out a relationship or is what our mothers told us true? Enlighten me.

Conversations About Sex

In case you haven't noticed, I kinda love sex. Sex comes second only to books as the true love of my life. I write about it as often as I can, think about it all the time, and never, ever pass up an opportunity to have some. But the thing I think I love the most about sex is talking about it. Well, sometimes.

For the last few years I've had a firmish policy: I don't discuss sex with a man with whom I intend to have it.  Sound backwards? Well let me explain. There are two reasons why I think this is a bad idea; first because, as previously discussed, I like the anticipation of not knowing what a man will be like in bed before we get there. I like to go deputy dog on him and use his words and behaviour as clues of what he will be like. I know it's weird but that's just me.

The second and main reason I avoid pre-sex talk is that something happens when you have these kinds of conversations with men. I don't know why, but it seems that breaking the seal on the sex talk before you break the seal on the sex tends to lead to some crappy-ish behaviour. I have my theories about why that is, but I'll save that for another post and another day.

So the other day I was talking about my aversion to sex talk with my buddies over at Met Another Frog. They weren't buying the max-logic at all. Like, not.at.all. After a pretty lengthy discussion involving me bringing up my (admittedly feeble) arguments against pre-sex conversations and Skye shutting me down, they pretty much had me convinced that letting your prospective partner know about your needs, wants, and preferences (and learning about his) is the grown-up thing to do and the only way to ensure you get what you need once secksy time comes around. 

Now that I've had some time to marinate on it, I'm still not sold. I can't shake the feeling that these kinds of conversations are clinical and unromantic. And the last time I discussed sex in detail with a man prior to sleeping with him, he disappeared almost immediately afterward. So I'm sticking with my telephathic method of making my needs known to my partner; understanding of course that I cannot complain if they're not met. Well, not to his face anyway.

But what say you, ladies and gents? Do you lay out your expectations to your partner before you slam? Is there a way to make this conversation not lead to disaster? Educate me because I'm clearly backwards on this one.

Throwback Post: Random Funny Story

Another funny from my old blog. Sorry everyone - Nasty Fridays will resume next week.

Many, many years ago I had a little on again, off again thing with this guy. He was a rapper of moderate fame in Canada and when things first began with him his star was on the rise so he was pretty busy. Hence the transient nature of our...affair?

Anyway. Whatever you want to call it, it went on for months and it involved secks. A fair amount of it. And fainting. I once fainted during secksy time with this guy; which I believe he took as a testament to his manhood but in actuality was probably because all my fake ardor caused me to start hyperventilating. But whatevs. 

Where was I? So it went on for a few months and then died out because I moved back home to London. When I moved back I was busy not being called by various other riff raff so I really wasn't thinking about him at all.  But then one day I bumped into him at Fluid.  He was with some friends of his who were also friends of mine so by the end of the night our two groups had converged into one happy family. 

Now he has this one pervy friend who had taken a shine to my sister. So at the end of the night while she was being molested by dancing with him, Mr Rapper Man and I found ourselves standing relatively close to one another watching them. We hadn't spoken all night so I decided to be a big girl and go talk to him. So I went over, we started chatting. It soon became very apparent that had been brushed with the drunken stick. I persevered - what else did I have to do? And I guess in his extremely inebriated state he mistook my dogged friendliness for...interest?  Because he said to me "...if you're wondering what it would be like to be with me we could make that happen..."

Um, excuse me?

First of all, who SAYS that? And secondly, in the immortal words of Darius Lovehall: "we've already done it! I mean, repeatedly!"

And that's all there is to say about that isn't there?

Crash the Car

The ever-talented Dr.Jay returns with his take on yesterday's post. I thought my idea was good but his is sheer evil genius. After you read this, check him out over at your favourite blogger's favourite blog.


Have you ever been on a different page than someone else? However, you were afraid of how they would react if you told them the reality of the situation? Today’s session is about crashing the car. I had a friend who was telling me about a situation she was going through with a male friend who may be thinking the relationship is more than friends, but she was afraid for her safety if she didn’t just go along with what he was thinking and manage her own actions. I told her, “Sometimes you have to get in their lane and then crash the car.”


Here’s what I’m talking about:


Sometimes men and women meet and the guy is thinking in his head that he would like to sleep with or date the lady. In her mind, she is like I just want to be friends. As most men typically will say, he agrees and says yes, let’s just be friends. He says this, but his opinion will never change, EVER. Final Answer.


As friends they hang out a few times and they start to hang out regularly. But in her mind, he’s just a friend. At some point she wants to do something else other than hang with the guy and it upsets the guy because in his mind, he’s trying to talk to this girl and she’s not being responsive. He may react, snap back at her, send a dry or angry text message, etc. She’s wondering why he’s doing this and thinks that maybe he’s just a little sensitive. Going forward and after several conversations or email exchanges about the nature of the relationship and that she is not interested in any type of relationship outside of friendship, he still insists that it’s cool that they remain friends. BUT IN HIS MIND, he’s thinking that this is merely a setback and proceeds as planned. Some guys will even go as far as to start to act out because in their mind, arguments are a sign of a good/healthy relationship. Be careful to check your Terrorist Alert Advisory Level.


So what do you do? How do you get this guy to lay off without causing him to do something crazy that may involve him harming himself or you? You have to get in his lane. So slide into his lane of “talking”. Get him to think that you are being responsive to his advances. And then you CRASH THE CAR. Find a way for him to find out that you are talking to someone else, or that you are a horrible person to be in a romantic situation with.


Here are some ways you can do that:


1. Send him a text in the morning, after not seeing him the previous night saying, “Had a great time, we should get up again soon.” When he receives it he’ll think that you’re talking to someone else and get upset and be done with you. Although you totally fabricated this situation. (I am guilty of pulling this text trick. It works like a charm).


2. After some time, ask him if he would have a problem if you were talking to other guys while talking to him. Because men are territorial, he’ll say no he has no problem, but now that he knows that it will begin to bother him and he’ll begin to waver.


3. Just be a horrible person to be talking to. Turn off your phone at night. Disappear for hours. Change/cancel plans. I mean flat out just frustrate this guy once you are “talking”. He’ll see a big difference between when you were just friends and now that you’re talking and fade to black.


In Dr. J’s opinion, there’s nothing wrong with a little Phantom of the Opera.


So what do you guys think? Will Dr. Jay's method work to get rid of the dude who can't take a hint? The next time I have a pest I'm giving it a try.

Pest Control

It is a sad but true fact that into every woman’s life a little infestation must fall. For us gals, the existence of pests is as ubiquitous as a trip to the feminine care aisle at Shopper’s and every bit as unpleasant. 

These pests come in many forms – an ex who just needs one more chance, a completely unsuitable man we gave some to in a moment of weakness, or a poor sap whose only crime is residing on the wrong rung of the ladder.

Whoever he is, a pest can make a woman’s life a living hell. On the surface he seems like a great guy – he’ll call you just to see how you are, he’ll bring you Tim Horton’s when you’re having a late-night craving, and he is ready and willing to take you out for Valentine’s Day. Problem is he’s calling you while you’re staring at the phone willing the guy you really want to call you. He wants to stay – and will try to bone – after he’s dropped off your Tim’s. And while he might bring you flowers when he picks you up for your Valentine’s date, he’ll spend the whole evening staring at you with this pathetic hangdog look that makes you just want to slap the sh*t out of him.

So what’s a girl to do with a pest? Word on the street is a woman has three choices:

1. Ignore him
A lot of women say that this just feels wrong. It’s mean to ignore people, isn’t it? But are they really that nice? Or are their heads being gassed up by all this attention? I think you know the answer to that.

2. Tell him the truth.
It might be mean, but nothing says go away like a text message saying “You’re annoying and I will never, ever want you. Ever.”

3. Grit your teeth and tolerate your pest until he loses interest and finds someone else to harass love.
Unfortunately, your pest will most likely misinterpret your gritted-teeth tolerance as encouragement. This man is clueless and he lacks the natural filter that distinguishes politeness from vibes.

So I ask the question again – what’s a girl to do?

A couple of months ago I took the question to the streets i.e. Twitter and Facebook. I asked the ladies “How do you deal with a man who’s a pest and won’t leave you alone?” The answers were pretty evenly divided between ignore, tell him to buzz off, and grit your teeth and bear it. So I took it to the men to see if they had anything illuminating to add.  They all said they would tell a pest to go away. Me? I have a different tactic: fall in love with your pest.

I know you’re thinking I’m crazy right now, so let me school you. It is a fundamental fact of dating life that a man wants that which he cannot have. Men get off on the douleur exquise and no one more so than a pest. So why not remove the thrill and faux-fall in love? It’s quick, it’s dirty, it does the job every time. If your pest is blowing up your phone, just pick it up, act thrilled to hear from him, and launch into an ultra-excited diatribe about your day. Make sure you drag it out until his phone battery dies. Pester your pest about his schedule and try to fill every empty window of his time. And instead of ignoring his eyes when he stares at you with desperate wanting, gaze lovingly at him every chance you get.

In other words, give your pest a taste of his own medicine. It works every time.

A little fun on a Monday: My Market Value

UPDATE: I don't know what I was smoking when I posted this, but I've updated it so that the link to the test actually goes to the test. My score is posted in the comments.

This past weekend I was searching for inspiration and came across this "Dating Market Value Test" on Citizen Renegade. There's one for women and one for men and the number of points you get determines your value on the dating market. I think you should all take this test and tell me your score in the comments but in the meantime, take a look at the possible outcomes and guess which one I am?

-83:  You are proof that God does not exist, but that Satan does.

-82 to -56:  You’re an omega.  If it makes you feel better you will have your choice of male omegas to bang.

-55 to -40:  The majority of men are disgusted by the sight of you.  Your kind will suffer most when our sexbot overlords arrive.  Losers hit on you constantly figuring they have a chance.

-39 to -20:  You were born to cockblock.  But you’ll manage to marry a table scrap.

-19 to -5:  Lesser beta.  The men you want make fun of you out of earshot.  You spend many years learning how to settle for mediocre betas.

-4 to 14:  Classic beta.  Your hot friends always gets hit on first, but if you really tramp it up you can snag a slightly better than average guy to take you home for a single night of commitment.

15 to 29:  Greater beta.  More than a few attractive guys will approach you.  But if your personality is flawed you risk becoming a pump and dump victim.

30 to 43:  You are officially a nascent alpha female.  A lot of quality guys will hit on you and you will be able to pick and choose at your leisure.  But don’t push it.  You’re not quite hot enough to string guys along forever.

44 to 55:  You’re a bona fide hottie.  Nearly every guy who meets you agrees you are a hottie.  So does every girl.  This puts you in the top 1% of worldwide womanhood.  With great power comes great responsibility, so try to limit the number of men you torture with blueballs and LJFB rejections to fewer than 100 in your social circle.  As long as you are not a complete bitch, marriage with a top quality man will come easily to you.

56 to 63:  Guys want you, girls want to be you.  You are just short of perfection, which paradoxically means you will get hit on more than the super alpha females.  You are a player’s greatest challenge, and his greatest reward, because unlike the perfect woman there is still something human about you.  Sex, love, security, commitment, easy living… you have it all.  Only your demons can defeat you.

64:  Super Alpha.  The world is yours.  Life is an endless parade of joy and excitement.  Your power is illimitable… for now.

I'll post the correct answer tonight. Whoever guesses right wins the Hands-Down Favourite Commenter of All Time prize.

Black Man Sexy

My male readers often accuse me of bashing them so today's post is in honour of man. The Black man, that is. Because while I appreciate Brad Pitt as much as the next white girl, there is no sexy like Black Man Sexy.

And because I'm writing this at an ung-dly hour of the night, with no further ado I bring you...

5 Things that just look better on a Black man.

1. The threads

A well-dressed man is always a good thing, but a well-dressed Black man is a very good thing. I don't know what it is but put Chris Rock (mediocre at best) in a beautiful suit next to Dr. Mark Sloan (sexiest White guy on earth) in a beautiful suit and watch McSteamy disappear. Also? Black men are the only men on earth who look sexy in track pants.

2. The vocab
Big words are hot no matter who is saying them, but have you ever had a conversation with a Black man and he dropped a word like "concupiscence" on you? Good lord! Just mop me off the floor.

3. The muscles
A sexy body is a beautiful thing, but a well-built Black man is like a joyful noise unto the Lord. There is no better sight in life than a Black man's finely-sculpted back.

4. The jargon
Now this one is probably just for advertising nerds like me because I swoon in general for men with strategic minds. But a Black man who can calculate cost-per-reach-point and actually knows why I should care about it? Oh my word. (sidebar: I'm not talking about those twitter philosophers who just tweet cryptic bullsh*t about branding. That's not sexy)

5. The ass
Oh boy, a Black man's ass. I have no words.

Bonus: Eyelashes. Black men have the cutest eyelashes ever. Random and not really sexy but true.

I have to go now!