Single Mans Diary

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Last Night’s 1st Date With “The Executive”

A few days ago I got a message on Facebook from a girl I didn’t recognize. “Hey, remember me?” At first glance I had no idea who she was, like zero fucking clue, but after going through a few of her facebook pic’s—there were only three—I totally remembered. I was 22 and she was 20. She had just moved to LA from Boston and was naïve, intimidated and star struck. We met at a party and the night we met she was the shy, insecure girl from out of town. I was the cool, edgy LA guy who was outgoing and confident. As we spoke she constantly second-guessed herself, saying things like, “I must sound stupid”, or “I don’t know what I’m talking about”.

I could tell that I intimidated her, but I was 22 and kind of an asshole. I wasn’t sensitive towards her feelings. We never had sex, but I think she blew me a couple of times. A couple weeks after we met we went bowling with a group of people and I told her one of her friends was cute. I don’t know why the fuck I did that dumb shit but I did, she became pissed and we never saw each other again. Her FB profile only had 3 pics but she seemed to have grown up well. It looked like the shy Boston girl had disappeared and a new, confident LA woman had emerged. I was looking forward to seeing her for sure.

She was wearing a cute black leather jacket, jeans, boots, and a wife beater. Shoulder length brown hair and a little lipstick. She definitely grew up, but she didn’t look much different. She had filled out a little, too. She wasn’t overweight by any means, but her arms and upper torso were thick and kind of solid looking. She is now an executive at a major movie studio. I was impressed, and shocked that the shy Boston girl I knew 8 years earlier worked her way up the ladder into the movie industry.

She told me that she’d gotten into running marathons and was an avid cyclist. Once she even rode with Lance Armstrong. She trains 4 days a week, every week. Ok now I’m not trying to sound crass here in the slightest bit, but like….she had a belly. Not a big one! But like I said, she was a little top heavy and I could see her belly folding over her jeans a little. Hey, that’s not a bad thing. I’m sure mine folds over, too. But it just seemed interesting that she was this hardcore athlete and was still kind of thick. It got me thinking about a lot of the women I’ve dated in the past, and it seems like the one’s who are constantly working out or training or claim to be these crazy athletes are always kind of thick, and the one’s who don’t work out or just do a little yoga here & there or something are usually rail thin. Just an observation…

Anyway, so I didn’t feel a crazy spark but I felt like the dynamic between us hadn’t really changed. She still seemed like that shy Boston girl around me, and a few times I caught her second-guessing herself just like she used to. However, she was fucking smart and I could see why she worked her way up so fast. The bottom line here is that I could probably fuck her and have nice little fling. We both have a little cash and are level headed. We could probably have sleepovers, work out together and I could probably learn a thing or 2 from her.

But in the long run, it wouldn’t work out. She’s not long-term material. I’ve been struggling with these type of women lately. I feel old and lazy, because while the thought of having a fun couple of months with a new girl sounds great, the secondary thought of eventually having some dramatic, “where is this going”, talk makes me want to fucking kill myself.  So, I’m unsure of what to do. It’s a little ironic actually, considering I’m going to try everything in my power to fuck a cop. But like, come on, it’s a cop for Christ sakes.

Anyway, after a couple drinks I walked her to her car and gave her a hug goodbye. In general, it was a lot of fun! I’m glad she hit me up on FB. We relived some old memories I never would of thought of otherwise. But I’m just not sure if I should pursue it sexually.

Tune in Monday to read about my 2^nd date with, “The Po Po”.

Poll

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Cheating

Ok so the Tiger Woods voicemail. FUCKING AMAZING. If it is really him, of-course.

Cheating. It’s an interesting thing.

When I am in a relationship, the fear of being cheated on is the key thing that pretty much controls most of my actions. It keeps me romantic, it keeps me sexually active, it keeps me paranoid and insecure. I used to have this huge fear of being left, or fucked over & lied to. As I’ve gotten older and dated more mature women it’s faded a little. But the fear tends to creep back, and when I’m dating someone seriously I sometimes find myself wondering where her mind really is.

Do I fuck her right? Do I treat her right? Do I make enough money? Is there some guy she used to date who has that one little thing I don’t & she misses, which will cause her to stray?

It’s actually ironic though, because I’ve cheated on a few of my girlfriends. Why, you ask? Well, I can’t tell you why all guys cheat. Everyone’s different. But I can tell you what drove my vodka-tainted mouth between the legs of another woman. In all 3 instances, I had become very unhappy in my relationship. I had tried to work through our problems time and time again, only to be constantly disappointed. Also, in all 3 relationships the sex started out great, but once it became non-existent I became frustrated, angry and resentful and my eyes started wondering.

For me, cheating was never about being with someone hotter, or thinner, or younger. It was a passive aggressive “fuck you” to my girlfriend. It was, “I’ve been trying, trying to fix our problems for months but nothings changes! You obviously don’t give a fuck…so, I’m going to do something for me for once!”  It was a temporary removal of my miserable situation. It was the momentary gratification of being with someone who didn’t drink excessively, who wasn’t broke, who actually wanted to have sex, or what have you.

So, why didn’t I just break up first? Well, I was a young, immature pussy. I probably wasn’t as honest as I should have been to my girlfriends about my unhappiness in fear of it hurting them. It’s fucked up, ya know. We get ourselves into these situations and then become so afraid to get out of them. As I got older I realized that total honesty, good or bad was the key to a successful relationship & life. Like, if you are unhappy and you are looking elsewhere you need to be totally honest with your partner about why, specifically, so you can either fix that shit or move the fuck on.

Then there are men who do cheat strictly for sex. Like I said, I don’t have a problem staying faithful and I’ve only looked elsewhere when the sex has become non-existent or frustrating in my relationship. It’s natural for intimacy in a relationship to slow down and not be exciting as it once was. One thing that a few of my ex-girlfriend’s have done that made me insane was they changed their sexual patterns. Like, when we started dating they loved sex. I had this one GF who would blow me and swallowed when I came. Within a few months the swallowing turned into jerking me off when I came, to not making me cum at all, to eventually no blowjobs.

A year later—when we were having sex once every 2 or 3 weeks—I confronted her about it and she said, “I don’t know. I just did it to make you happy. I knew you liked blowjobs and I did it to make you happy. But it’s not really my favorite”. I was like, WTF!!! I felt so deceived, like the person I’d been dating was a phony. I thought: whom am I really dating then? 2 weeks after hearing that I fucked another girl and came in her mouth—which she asked for—and eventually broke up with my GF.

One of the biggest pieces of advice I can give women in this area, is you must show your true colors sexually when you first start dating. If you don’t like something, DON’T do it. He’s always going to come back for it and when you say no, it will cause a rift. You gotta keep it exciting in bed. It doesn’t have to be wild circus sex every day, but just like us constantly telling you how beautiful you are, you have to constantly remind us about why we can’t get enough of you in the sack.

"Say Cheese!"

A few weeks ago I picked up a little HD cam, and since then I’ve been on a massive filming frenzy. I’ve been making little ridiculous movies on my computer like there’s no tomorrow, and loving every minute of it. Anyway, despite what people tell me I’ve always considered myself a little un-photogenic, which has always made me a little camera shy. However, since I got my little HD cam I can’t get enough of the camera. I filmed myself jerking off a couple of times for fun, always from the waste down and I’d always erase them right after.

Last night crazy Jeri came over, who is one of my new-ish fuck buddies. If you remember, her and I were trying to find another couple to swap with, but it ended up being much harder than I thought. She brought her dog over and later in the night—when we were drunk—the dog started humping the shit out of a pillow. I thought it was funny and started filming the dog, then Jeri, which turned into a semi-serious strip show.

We ended up in the bedroom, with the camera making a full on sex tape. I’ve taken pictures of ex-girlfriends naked, and one even let me take pictures of her sucking my cock, but I never filmed someone. I’m a big porn watcher and there are ton’s of these types of video’s online and I secretly have always wanted to do one. As it was happening inside I was screaming, “DUUUUDE, YES YES YES YES YES!!!!”  She let me film her stripping, then fingering herself. She filmed me eating her out, which I absolutely loved because she was instructing me, “Lick my clit…now stick your tongue in me”. Then let me film her sucking my cock while making eye contact with the camera multiple times. I tried to prop the camera up on my nightstand to film us fucking and thought I had it right but when I re-watched it the camera was too high and all you could see was feet and part of my back.

We fucked—drunk—for 15 minutes before she got dry and I couldn’t cum. It’s the curse of drinking and sex I swear. Anyway, so she grabbed the camera and said, “Let me film you”. So I went ahead and totally let this chick film me while I jerked myself off. The thing that tripped me out was that when she asked me my first reaction was, “HELL NO!” But while I was doing it, it totally turned me on! There was something about watching this hot, hot chick with all these tattoo’s, holding a camera that made me fucking wild.

When we woke up we watched it. The filming and lighting were awful and the camera was a shaking mess. When we got to the part where she filmed me I gave her the camera and walked out of the room. I became way embarrassed and just couldn’t watch. It was uber gay or something. I later erased the video, but I really wished I hadn’t. I’ve always been interested by the phenomenon on sex on film. It seems like women just love to be on camera. I mean, look at how many videos there are on youtube of girls dancing in front of the camera half naked. Jeri was like, INTO it, and I’ve been thinking about the situation all day.

Ok date update: My 2^nd date with “The Po Po”, was pushed back until Thursday or Friday. However, last night this girl I hooked up with like 8 years ago found me on facebook and sent me a message! We went back & forth a few times and then made plans for drinks tomorrow night. I’m actually really looking forward to it, I fucking love blasts from the past’s.

Till then.

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The Pick Up Artist

I received a few emails over the last couple weeks asking how I get so many women, which is really funny to me because I don’t really think I get all that much action. Not compared to some of my friend’s.  I have this one friend—I had to stop hanging with because of his douchebaggery—whose sole mission in life, is to fuck different girls. He has this line he uses around his friends… Before he goes out he always announces to his boys, “When I go out tonight this is what I’m going to say when I walk into the bar! Ladies, I want 2 lines. One for suckin and one for fuckin!”

Really???

The recent emails actually make me feel like a bit of a beefcake, which is even more funny considering I’m the most insecure fucker in LA. I mean, just before writing this I spent an hour researching propecia side effects because I’ve been fucking OBSESSING over whether or not I’m starting to lose my hair, and there’s no way in HELL I’m going balled. I’m waaaaaaay too shallow for that shit. I don’t think I’m losing my hair but I’m just not sure. Fuck, I’m obsessing again.

Anyway, I never have an answer for these guys. Plus, that’s not really my goal in all of this. I went through my “tag em & bag em” phase years ago. It’s a great fucking question, though, and one I think about quite often. I mean, how does a guy really “get” women? Again, I don’t know. I just know what’s worked for me. So I’d like to get into what I think works, and please feel free to comment and chime in about this. I definitely don’t have all the answers. Some of this goes way beyond the pick-up, but you’ll get the picture. This is my version of one of those ridiculous Thefrisky.com articles.

1.)   Be Confident

Confidence attracts women; it’s just how it is. Confidence is everything. In my case it’s more like dickyness masking insecurity. You need to approach a woman like you’re kind of the man, but in a nice way, and if they don’t want to chat you could really give 2 shits. You can’t be disrespectful or overtly cocky, unless of-course you’re just playing the numbers game. When I approach a woman it usually goes beyond meaningless sex so I am always very respectful and polite, but I talk with a lot confidence and act as if I’m very sure of myself.

Women don’t want bitch ass dudes, so even if you are one—like me—suck it up and do some acting. I get nervous as shit when I approach a girl, but she never ever knows it. You can be any race, age, height or weight, have no legs or a fucked up acne puss face and it won’t matter. If you’re confident as fuck you’ll be able to get any girl you want. You know how many ugly, ugly dudes I see with hot chicks? TONS. I mean, in this city it’s also cash related but those fat ugly fucks also have a ton of confidence. Don’t be a nice guy, either! Trust me, I used to be a really nice guy and women kicked me around like an old can. Be nice, but be nice like you’re the man and you don’t give a fuck.

2.)   Be Fucking Funny

Ok I’ll admit it. I think I’m a fucking riot. In my mind I’m Eddie Murphy, Dane Cook, Louis CK and Steve Martin all packed into one Jewish idiot. Obviously I’m nothing close to either of those amazing comics, but the fact remains that I’ve won over more women with humor than anything. I can’t really give any advice on this except to make a lot of great jokes, really quick witty ones. It works. That’s all I can say about that, just be fucking hilarious without being crass or graphic.

3.)   Have Style

Ok this may not resonate with a lot of folks, but in my experience nice clothes and style definitely matters. Look, most women are into fashion and if you’re in a room with a bunch of other dudes, a cute jacket, scarf or pair of shoes will definitely make you stand out. I buy clothes, and I always get complimented on my style. If you’re a dude with no fashion sense, call a female friend or find a gay and do some shopping. It doesn’t have to be expensive. Scrape together a couple hundred bucks and get some shit on sale at Urban Outfitters. That shit helps, a fucking lot.

4.)   Don’t Be A Fucking Loser

I know the economy sucks. A lot of you are laid off—me included. Regardless of your job status you gotta have ambition and passion for something. I’m on unemployment but I have my hands in 50 things and I’m constantly busy and working on projects for the future. When I tell women about what I’m up to, it turns them on. They like my drive and enthusiasm. You gotta be involved in shit and be passionate about your life. I mean, I have plenty of days & nights when I drink beer, watch reality TV and jerk off until my hands are numb, but not every night. It’s ok to be depressed, miserable and bored here and there. Sometimes you just need to open a bag of cheetos and rub the cheeto dust on your couch and leave a nice orange stain, but not every day, or every other day. That shit ain’t sexy.

5.)   Have Cash

This piggybacks off #4. As a man you must earn a living, you just have to. You don’t need to make a lot, not at all. But you need to be able to hold your own and take your lady out once in a while. Being an aspiring musician or artist won’t cut it; it’s NEVER going to fucking happen, it would’ve by now. You need definitely need a job. Cash is king.

6.)   Learn To Eff Like A Pro

Just like humor, another thing that will have a woman sticking around is good sex. This goes both ways. A girl can treat me like absolute garbage but if she’s amazing in bed I will keep coming back for more abuse. As insecure as I am I do toot my own horn in bed, I can compete with the best of em. Again, I’m not sure how to give advice on this. But all I can say is learn to hump and give oral really, really well. You will get that text returned.

One thing I’ve always been bad at is approaching strange women in markets or a public places. I never, ever know what to say. I always feel like I will come off like a creep or a bumbling idiot and I chicken out. I’m much better in a bar or a party or work event or meeting through a friend. Maybe some of you could teach me a lesson or 2 on that.

Ok that’s about it, for now.

I had made plan’s to go on a 2^nd date with, “The Po Po”, this past Thursday while totally spacing on Thanksgiving, so I had to re-schedule for tomorrow night. Will be back then-ish. Have a great Monday peoples J

Growing Up

I first discovered porn through a friend. One day I went to his house after school and he told me he had a mega-secret. A mega-secret! That’s serious shit right there! He said he needed to show me something, but made me promise to keep it to myself. I promised, and to show him how serious I was I offered to pinky swear.

It doesn’t get much more serious than that!

Once his parent’s left he brought me into their room. He went into the closet and began sifting through a dresser drawer. His hand emerged from the drawer to reveal….a porn tape.

OMFG! OMFG! OMFG! OMFG! OMFG! OMFG! OMFG! OMFG!

I heard choirs and saw angels playing harps. The golden label glistened like a diamond in the sun. This was IT. This was actual porn! I had never seen porn before. I became very nervous and very, very excited at the same time. Jamie popped the tape in the VCR and we began watching.

The credits rolled: Sex Sphinx

It was really awful porno from the 70’s. Everyone was dressed up like an Egyptian and the women had the hairiest pussies.

Within 7 min of watching the porno, my friend and I were both jerking off, right there, on the floor, no more than 3 feet from each other. Every time his parents went out he’d pop in the Egyptian retro porn and we’d jerk off in front of each other. At the time there was nothing strange about it. The thought process never went past—naked ladies, must jerk off now.

I wonder how that scenario would play out as an adult?

You’re in your late 20’s. One of your best friend’s of 10 years is over for the game and a few beers. During halftime you pull up a new porn site you found—18yearoldsfuckingdonkeys.com—or something. After showing him a few choice ladies—and donkeys—you turn to your bud and say, “Want to jerk real quick?”

He would respond, “Sure!”

Like a good host you’d get your buddy some paper towels or tissues. Then offer him first choice of lotions and lube. You’d both get comfy on the couch, but not too close, that would be gay. You’d be sure to position the laptop screen in a good place where you could both see without any glare.

Then you’d both, well… jerk. I assume no one would make any overtly loud grunts during orgasm, which would be weird. So upon orgasm you’d settle for the looooong exhale out of your nose. It would probably be best if you both finished around the same time, but if not, the person who came 1^st would go to the bathroom and clean up while the other guy finished. The guy who came second would go to the kitchen to clean up. Then you’d both meet back in the living room like nothing ever happened. You’d continue watching the game, and after 5 minutes without a word from either of you, your guest would finally say, “don’t forget to email me that site”.

It’s just funny how shit changes. Girls get naked in front of each other, make out and feel each other’s boobs like it aint no thang. If a friend of mine even takes his shirt off I get uncomfortable. But when I was a kid, it was like—lets see who can cum faster!  Don’t get me wrong; I do NOT want to see one of my friend’s jerk off. I think what I’m trying to say, is it’s just interesting how much we change as adults. Growing up sucks.

Have a great T-Day all. And if there’s anything you’d like me to write about feel free to holler. I get bloggers block sometimes. Peace

This Weekend’s 1st Date With "The Po Po"

So I had this blind date this past Saturday night. When I say blind, I mean blind. There was zero correspondence between the girl and I before we met. The matchmaker just wouldn’t allow it; I guess she thought it was cute. I’d been pretty sick the last couple weeks so I didn’t have the energy to beg or complain. All I knew of her was that she was 26 and had an “interesting job”. Fuck it, I like a little adventure and mystery. Let’s get ready to rumble.

I was told to meet her in front of a bar on the Westside at 8:30. I arrived 5 min early and paced back and forth for 10 min. I still wasn’t 100% healthy and didn’t totally want to be there. I was kind of into it and kind of like—let’s just get this shit over with. I saw her crossing the street a half a block down and somehow I just knew it was her. As she approached she looked at me and waved with a huge smile—I was the only dude standing outside.

She had a bit of a butch look to her. Not like overweight-dyke style butch, but kind of like a female softball or water polo player. Instantly, I wasn’t attracted. She didn’t have any style, either. Her hair was short and pulled back in a bun, she had on Levis and a plain black jacket. She wasn’t bad looking at all; her body was decent, too. She just wasn’t as feminine or stylish as I like. When we met I gave her the introductory Heidi Klum-Project Runway kiss on the cheek. She wasn’t expecting at it at ALL. Whatever, it’s what I’m used to.

We went inside, grabbed a booth and ordered drinks. Me a vodka/tonic, her…a Newcastle? I wasn’t quite sure how to start. I mean, usually there is a little background info before a date. Like a few emails, a couple phone calls, or a first encounter. I had nada, so I went with the only tiny piece of information I had and said, “I hear you have quite an interesting job?” She began laughing, “Well I don’t know if it’s interesting”, she said, “But it’s definitely not the norm…I’m a cop”.

Ooooookay. The first thought, FIRST thought that came into my mind within milliseconds of her finishing her sentence was—I’m fucking! I’m not sure if other guy’s have this, but there are 3 types of women that I told myself long ago I’d fuck if I ever had the chance but would never, ever pursue. They are, a cop, a body builder and a midget. It’s not even about being attracted to them. Like not at all. It’s all about the curiosity, and the self-gratification of saying, “I fucked a cop. I fucked a bodybuilder and I fucked a midget”. They are quirky fantasies that I’d love to fulfill but don’t ever think I will, if that makes any sense. Ok I’ll admit that the bodybuilder is fucking weird, but the midget would be awesome. You could put diapers on her and roll-play, or pick her up and have her sit on the back of your neck, then hold her feet in front of you and dance around at the club or whatever. (These are Jokes)

Anyway, so even though I wasn’t attracted to her instantly my objective was to somehow end up having sex with her. That sounds pretty crass, and it definitely is but I’m sorry. It’s just something I gotta do. I put my game face on and began to pay attention. She went on to tell me that her dad was a cop, and when she was 5 he got into some crazy shootout and killed a couple bank robbers. She said he came home all bruised and battered, but a hero. She knew she wanted to be a cop right then and there.

So she went to cop school and became an officer. A week into the job she was on patrol in South Central LA. Her and her partner were cruising down the street talking about the economy, then all of the sudden she woke up in the middle of the street, hanging outside of her upside down patrol car. Some dude had stole a car and ran a red light going 70, ramming their car from the side and flipping it over.

She was in the hospital for a month with broken ribs, collapsed lungs and a whole bunch of other fucked up shit. That was a year ago, and since then she’s working inside the station doing processing. I loved her stories, loved. Sure, they were fucking crazy, but she showed real emotion when she told them. So after 45 min of awesome cop stories, she had me. She ended up drinking 4 beers and barely getting a buzz. I had 3 vodka/tonics and was on the verge of alcohol poisoning.

I walked her to her car and we gave each other a huge hug. Right then and there she asked me if we could see each other again and took out her phone to schedule me in. Woah. I’ll be seeing her Thursday this week. Hmmm, what should we do….?

Why Guy’s Are Fucked & Women Are Screwed

I went to a friend’s place last night for a boy’s night of sorts. 10 dudes packed into a small, carpeted West-LA apartment to watch the Manny Pacquiao fight from last weekend—none of us caught it the night of. The fight was basically an excuse to get 10 guys together, because as a guy you can’t just call a bunch of dudes and ask them to come over to talk. That would be weird, and potentially “gay”. There needs to be something macho involved in a man get-together, chicks, liquor, sports, guns, cars, ect.

The guy whose place I went to lives with his girl. She was not about to stay in the house with a bunch of screaming fucking animals so she got the fuck outta there within minutes of my arrival. As soon as she left all 10 of us—some I didn’t know—got into a testosterone infused conversation about women and relationships. I picked up some interesting info—some I don’t agree with—but it’s definitely share worthy. This is extreme machismo male insecurity shit at it’s best so read carefully.

It’s like this. When a guy is in a relationship with a girl she is HIS. Yes, HIS. Just like a caveman. He doesn’t believe that she should have ANY male friends. Like, not one—unless they ‘re gay or really fat, of-course. If a woman does have a male “friend”, it definitely cannot be an ex-boyfriend or a guy they used to date. If the girl ever attempts to get-together or have drinks with a guy she used to date, the boyfriend will go fucking mental. Because in a guy’s mind, the girl is only still in contact with the guy she used to date because she’s un-happy in the relationship, or, she’s a horny horny girl who needs sex. Both thoughts piss us off to the point of smoke pouring out our noses.

The male friends or constant contact with dudes she used to date will cause the insecure man to go crazy, and obsess over his girlfriend’s whereabouts. He will always think she is lying, or cheating on him no matter what. This one guy told all of us a story about how he thought his girlfriend was cheating on him, so he yelled at her and stormed away. When she chased him down he slammed her up against a fucking tree. I LOL’ed. Like I said, MENTAL.

When a guy has sex with a girl who’s bad in bed it upsets him, and he thinks—God dammit! This won’t do. I need a girl who can suck like a Dyson and fuck me like a porn-star. But when he finally gets a girl that can do all of those wonderful things, all he can think about is how many men she must have fucked and sucked before him to achieve her skills, and how many men she’s currently sharing her skills with. This makes him intimidated, jealous, insecure and fucking psycho.

Those were the best parts of the evening. I had to say, it made me feel bad for both sexes. Like, every dude is a fucking psycho motherfucker and women really get the short end of the stick, and/or there are a lot of women that lie and cheat. Or, the men are the liars and cheaters and the craziness comes from constant projecting. Needless to say when I left my head was spinning.

Anyway, blind date tomorrow night. Should be a barrel of monkeys. See ya next week PEEPS.

Per West LA’s comment: Us men would love to read the female version of this report. Ladies, if you feel like sharing please comment or email me a detailed report and I will post.