Porn Etiquette & You: A WIN-WIN Situation.

2 07 2009

Today I would like to address a little topic that I refer to as
“Porn Etiquette” and how it can help you.
Are you unfamiliar with the term ?
That’s fine, I was unaccustomed to the locution myself for quite sometime but as I have mentioned before,
I am the Dian Fossey of Dudes [wink].
So,
Porn Etiquette is something you acquire through observing pornographic films and using the techniques and tactics in relevant situations.

Now that I’ve piqued your interest and before I continue henceforth, there are a couple issues I’d like to address.

First of all, this post’s information does not apply to dudes.

Sorry but it just doesn’t because I’ve seen the way dudes are in porn and they’re retarded. They are totally perpetuating this plague of Moose Lickers and Jack-Rabbit Fuckers that in attempt to perform the Kama Sutra from The Pirate Babe end up sending me running back to my daydreams of Robert Downey Jr. railing me in the Whole Foods bathroom with the back massager I’ve been using since Junior High to get the job done.

Although, dudes !!!
You could totally use these arguments as means to get better blows.
Ain’t no shame in trying to get yo’ business handled in an efficient manner.

Secondly, please take into account the key word which is RELEVANT.
Yes, your dude may have playfully mentioned wanting to test out some electro bondage but I doubt he really wanted you to pull that out while having a quickie in the backseat outside his parents house before his little sister’s birthday party. Be situationally appropriate.

Alright, sooooooo Ladies, I’m not saying go grab yourself a subscription from Kink.com to The Training of O or that you need to watch a lot of porn. You don’t. I know there are a good many of you that abhor the idea of flooding your brain in filthy hogwash like that but I also know a good many of you that probably hate giving head more.
But if you can pick up a good blow job,
you are GOLDEN.
GOLDEN I TELL YOU !!!!!!!

Just skim over some sort of softcore shit on PornTube or whatever it’s called. Notice the way the ladies use their hands. Behold their graceful strokes, the utilization of their tongue, the way they employ their tits… or er… you know, see how they can appropriately apply pressure with their pearly whites… ahem.
Try not to mimic their facial expressions though because that can really, really backfire.
Seriously.

So,
First of all, if you can champion the cock,
the duration of the blow job is decreased.

The less time you have to spend down there,
the better because seriously, after a while that shit gets OLD.
You know what I’m talking about; those thirty minute sessions of lock-jawed hell as you try to breath life into a banana that’s been out on a Tarzana porch in July all day, soaking in whiskey probably (if you get involved with guys anything like the ones I do). It’s just fucking vexing. I know, man, I’ve TOTALLY BEEN THERE. And then it becomes such a hassle. You avoid it, your dude wants it, tension grows, then there’s some like “RAWR RAWR WHY DON’T YOU BLOW ME?!” nonsense met with your “RAWR RAWR BECAUSE I HATE IT… RAWR !” and then you guys will end up breaking up over it (or the bigger issue that you’re using this as an excuse to avoid).
So, just master some maneuvers of the adult industry’s finest and beat the boundless boner.
The quicker you get ‘er done, the more time there is for important things like making sandwiches, watching Seinfeld or sleeping.

Secondly, brilliant blowing
will increase the duration of your relationship.

Do you know how many girls give good head ?
From my sources, VERY FEW.
Do you know what happens when you can perform at a proficient level ?
DUDES ARE SO STOKED !!!
They are soooo going to want to keep you around !!!
And they will recognize that you’ve put some effort into gaining these skills. It may go unsaid but Porn Etiquette does not go unnoticed. Unlike us ladies, men really enjoy porn. And they really enjoy having porn on their penises.
Promise.

So, what I’m saying is by you studying some simple tricks of the trade,
you can have a longer relationship and shorter stints sucking under the sheets.
For all you visual learners, I’ve drawn this nifty illustration for you.
You can visualize it while you’re pumping that shaft and tickling balls.
I’m all about encouragement, people.

PORN = WIN

DUDE,
IT’S A WIN-WIN SITUATION !!!

Please note the asterisk though.
An amazing blow job will increase the duration of any relationship, whether it be with Prince Phillip (Sleeping Beauty, people, C’MON) or that douchebag from that shitty local band that only rings you up after midnight (texts after two).
Think of it like a drug.
It’s simply going to intensify whatever path you’re already on.

So, if you’re already getting treated like an on call indentured servant of sexual endeavors, you need to check your self-esteem and go hang with your gal-pals and talk it out over a couple bottles of wine until you figure out you’re sleeping with an asshole and maybe cry into some cake batter about the last three months you’ve wasted sitting around waiting to jump into his bed after his jam seshs every night (he’s not even in a band, dude, GET OUT OF THERE NOWWW).

BUT !
If you’re with an exceptional man who appreciates your sparkling personality and even enjoys when you get drunk and act like Kenny Powers, he’s going to appreciate you even more.
And be even more willing to put up with you saying things like,
“DRUNK MARISSA DOESN’T GIVE A FUCK”
while devouring seven layer bean dips at BBQs.

Not that I would ever say that…





Dude Tested, Mom Approved.

1 07 2009

Whilst in the courting process, there are two major factors that come into play and have an impact on the direction of any impending relationship.
The High-Five & The Stamp.
You don’t necessarily need both but if you don’t have either you’re probably you’re fucked.

The High-Five
You never see the High-Five because it takes behind closed doors yet you will probably feel the impact of it. Not on your sweet little feminine hand but in the vibrational man-ness next time you hang out with your Dudefriend and his respective friends. You see, at some point, Dudefriend’s friends are going to ask about you. And they are more than likely going talk about you, Dudefriend’s interactions with you and the friends’ interactions with you in which case there will hopefully be an exchange of High-Fives (metaphorically &/or physically [I've participated in them simultaneously]).

Qualities That Are High-Fiveable
(based on my extensive research with the male persuasion)
- Dashing Good Looks
- A Sparkling Personality
- Nice Tits
- Better Blowjobs
- Moderate Knowledge of Anything Besides S&TC
… to name a few

And if you get the High-Five, you’re golden !
Full speed ahead on the looooove boat.
If you don’t get the High-Five,
well, you’ll probably still get laid.
BUT eventually there will come a time when they bro-down with some Fat Tires and flat out tell him you are a loser and point out,
“…it’s not just his life that’s at stake, it’s everyone else’s too.”
& THAT’S A REAL QUOTE FROM A REAL DUDE
(Gastly Havensoizor, to be exact, President of Topless Tractors).

Then there is

The Stamp
Not as important on the reg’ as the High-Five but in the long run, you’re going to need The Stamp Of Approval from his family. Particularly from his mother. Most fathers are pretty supportive of their sons getting laid in general whereas mothers are a bit more particular. Mothers spent grueling hours with their baby bundles of boy joy and want to see them with someone worthy of all their hard gentleman grooming.
I’ve only ever had one boyfriend with no quotations.
When we started dating, he told me I would never meet his mother if he could help it.
Of course, the day came when I did in fact meet his mother and I can only describe her as the rape child of Helena Bonham Carter’s character in Harry Potter and Maleficent (post dragon-morph).
All in all, very scary and mean.
So, yeah, needless to say, I never won that one over (nor did I really try because uh, hello, she was a fucking fire breathing witch mutant [with a{n angry} wideset vagina ]).
Moral of the story: I’m pretty scared of moms and their Stamps.

Qualities That Are Stamp-Able
- Dashing Good Looks
- Sparkling Personality
- Good Manners
- Good Job
- College Education
- Moderate Knowledge of S&TC (moms LOVE that shit)

And if you get The Stamp, you are DIALED IN !
I mean, don’t start ringing wedding bells obviously (especially if you didn’t get The High-Five, eesh) but all in all that is a good sign.
Especially because if he’s trying to show you off to his family in the first place, he obviously is setting his sights somewhere in the future.
Hopefully for a beach in Bora Bora but I mean, we’ll settle for Blockbuster on Friday.

Not to brag but I don’t think I’ve never not gotten The High-Five.
It’s probably because of my sharp wit, eclectic Ipod and porn etiquette.

But The Stamp…
Well,
I don’t usually have to worry about this considering I am generally onto the next frenzy of butterflies in my belly before we get past making out from our respective driver and passenger seats but now that the issue is on the forefront, it’s actually very nerve wracking.

But Dudefriend’s mom lives on the other side of the country so I’ve never really thought about it.
But over the past couple weeks, there had been a number of suspicious photo takings, none of which I would call “something to write home about”. When I questioned him about these photo ops, he casually replied that when he went home for his mother’s birthday he was going to have to show her what I looked like.

You can imagine my trepidation when you take into account that 99% of all the pictures he’s ever taken of me look a lot like this:

Class Act: M.Ross Slammin' C.Pagne.

Class Act: M.Ross Slammin' C.Pagne.

Jesus Christ, man!
Yeah, it’s fine when it comes to depicting my Sunday-afternoon-ragamuffin-spirituous-spams, sure, awesome.
Perfect for Facebook, not for the mantle.
And totally NOT AWESOME for first impression Mom-Showing.

I can just imagine his mom, all beautiful and Italian, in absolute adoration of her impeccable example of perfect child rearing, giving him the third degree, like who the hell is this regazza, gettin’ all up on my strapping young man…

“Yeah, I am seeing someone. She’s really cool. She’s a writer…
Well, she works for this fashion designer and writes a blog…
Oh, you know, she writes about herself and sometimes bands and weird porn…
Yeah, porn…
No, she’s not in porn she just writes about it…
I don’t think you want to see it…
Okay, fine…
No, Mom, she isn’t talking about me. It’s not like I’m the only guy to ever munch her box…
No, I’m not saying she’s a slut I’m saying she…
No, she’s not a prostitute ! I told you she’s a writer…
It’s not smut, she’s just being funny…
Yeah, she’s really funny…
No, not funny looking !
Okay, maybe but only because she makes that damned face…
But I really love cooking for her…
No, she doesn’t cook…
She’s not retarded ! She’s smart…
No, she went to acting school…
I just said she WASN’T retarded !”

Jesus.
I’m kind of an alcoholic who dropped out of real college, watches Seinfeld XXX parodies for “research” and spends half her day over analyzing her e-presence (surely, a new age symptom of megalomania).
I’m going to come off like a pompous porca di puttanesco !!!

Dio aiutarmi…

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