I think my vagina is toxic.
Whenever anyone gets near it or even THINKS about getting near it they always end up needing to then get as far away from it as possible.
Like, fly to Sitka to meditate with the polar bears far away.
(Ok, that only happened ONCE, it's not like it's a "pattern" or anything. *Laughs uncomfortably.*)
But seriously, for as much as I love sex you'd think it wouldn't be so difficult to find someone that, oh, I don't know, WANTED TO HAVE SEX WITH ME!!!
Yes.
I'm shouting.
This "problem" is annoying as fuck.
Fuck.
That which I'm not doing.
SEE ALSO To not give any.
And the way it danced out of my ex lovers mouth as a sign of sheer delight.
FUCK.
I met this guy.
"Met"- I TINDERED this guy (I'm telling you, Tinder is the ambassador of my orgasms) and he was super hot & super into me.
There was just one thing:
He was poly.
Correction "non monogamous."
"Why don't you just say you're poly?" I'd asked him.
'Because anyone I've met who says they're poly I don't like.'
Um. Ok.
I don't understand his semantic hang ups but whatever. He looks hot with his shirt off so I'm just gonna shut up about it.
So.
Non-monogamous.
That means he sleeps with more than one person.
I can be open minded to that.
I bet he's really good in bed!
The part that was the strangest for me to wrap my curly head around, though, was that he had a primary partner, a live in girlfriend, but their relationship was open and they both slept with other women.
My first thought as he explained all this to me was, 'Am I gonna be the star in a threesome?!' Yes. STAR. Because if I ever do try a threesome it is only if I'm the guest being brought into another couples bed. I'm way too competitive to share my boyfriend with some other broad. I'd be all, eyes on the prize, mother fucker! I'm the fucking star of this show!
SEE Diva Complex.
But hey, with a rack like mine, I'm entitled.
So Poly Big Penis (Sheldon named him, I couldn't think of a better nickname) told me he even wanted me to MEET his girlfriend eventually.
Wow.
I'm not only gonna get with a guy whose poly, we're all gonna meet each other like real live grownups and probably sip wine and discuss pseudo intellectual things.
Sooo Portlandia.
So Timing dances her fickle dance, as she's wont to do, and we never end up actually hooking up.
I mean, "hooking up."
Wink. Wink.
Fucking.
I mean fucking.
The only thing we end up doing together is climbing.
And that's when I realize, as we actually spend time together, and the conversations aren't just about the possibility of getting naked--
He kind of has the personality of a box of hair.
I'll admit I didn't see it before.
When a man is beautiful you don't really pay attention to much else.
But trying to have a dialogue with him felt like work.
Like I'm on a bad first date willing it to end.
I called him out on it (because that's the kind of dame I am) and told him I was getting a weird vibe from him.
He said he thought we were "just on different energy waves."
Which is funny because when he was trying to seduce me in the beginning he said I was "an amazing beautiful woman full of energy and life" and oh, my "sense of humor!"
I should mention that between his intentions to seduce me and then it not happening his primary and he decided to focus exclusively on each other for awhile so he wouldn't be getting naked with me anytime soon.
Curious enough, as soon as being naked was no longer an option, my "energy" didn't mesh with his.
Uh huh.
Right.
Men never just say what they think you want to hear to get you to take your clothes off.
No.
Never.
They TOTALLY mean all the abundance of flattery and there is NEVER an agenda.
At all.
EVER.
What a twat.
I felt rejected by someone I'd already lost interest in which is the worst because my ego was like, wounded.
It needed to listen to Fiona Apple and take black & white selfies and mourn the loss of the possibly ok sex it could have been validated by.
My ego is an angsty teenage girl.
I'd also lost a climbing buddy, which sucked because it is really hard to top rope yourself and the other climbers give you really funny looks.
In hind sight, I should have been concerned when the man sent me EIGHT DICK SELFIES!!
I finally was like, uh, yeah, hi, I'm not into that at all, I've actually deleted all of them, so if you wouldn't mind stopping with the penis promotion. I'm kinda not feeling it.
And literally, I literally never felt it.
Or saw it.
Well.
I guess I SAW it.....but not before a live studio audience.
Only with a Valencia filter.
Any man who needs that much advertising before actually doing the deed is compensating for a lack of SOMETHING.
Consider yourself warned.
An over abundance of dick pics is a good sign you're not going to have great sex.
Or in my case, sex at all.
Because apparently I'm not hip enough to have the energy of a guy whose poly.
Excuse me, NON MONOGAMOUS.
Me and my super energetic toxic vagina are gonna go climb this wall alone.
Who wants a belay partner akin to a box of hair anyway.
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