Advice From My Grandmother: Take Pride In Your F*cking!

Ok, get yo’ popcorn ready!

I’m writing this post as one man speaking about one woman who is extremely proud of what she does. And here’s a heads up — she doesn’t run a women’s activist group or an animal shelter. Nope, she gets the job done between the sheets.

Not too long ago, I was out enjoying a hearty dinner ($20 beer and wings combo!) and Monday Night Football, and I got lucky enough to meet a pretty lady who I later took home with me. I’ll call her Jamie, because I def don’t remember her real name. (No, I’m not proud of that. In fact, I feel as taken advantage of as she probably does, but I’m being honest.)

Anyway, long story short, I had better luck that night than both the Bills and the Raiders. Yep, you guessed it, I got laid. But I didn’t just get the 'yay-I-can-wake-up-and-tell-my-co-workers-I-got-laid’ kind of laid. I got laid in the way that made me walk a little differently the next day. (Guys, you know what I’m talking about.) Ladies, you might be walking differently for other reasons.

I was puttin’ in work, I tell ya. I was sweating, the sheets were off the bed, we broke my lamp, and I still cant find the remote control for my TV. Everything was great, except for one thing: After I made her cum (remember, you have to be confident in your skills and thoughtful, guys), for some reason, it was taking longer than usual for me to cum. Of course I’m not perfect; I’ve had a bad experience here and there. Haven’t we all? But eight times out of ten, I bring the wood! So, WTF?

Now, I know a lot of girls who would have thrown in the towel and raised the white flag at that point. But not Jamie! She was so proud and so sure of her fucking skills that she told me there was no way she would let my ass leave the room without an unforgettable orgasm. And that's practically a direct quote!

Listen, I didn’t have to write about this. Call me crazy, call me slow, heck, even call me stupid, but whatever you do don’t call me an ungrateful fuck, because I could have kept this to myself. But I didn't. Instead I chose to heed and share the words of my grandmother, who always told me this: “bLUE Steel, pride is a personal commitment. It is an attitude which separates excellence from mediocrity."

The lesson I leave you with is simple. Take pride in whatever it is you do best! It's an incredibly important characteristic to have. Maybe you type 110 words a minute, speak three languages, or maybe you just know that you're one hell of a fuck. Whatever it is you do, do it with pride! Pride shows good character and will help you progress in life — in and out of the bedroom.

So, the next time your partner doesn’t want to go down on you, I want you to think of my grandmother and say," You used to have pride!"

The Accidental Cock Block

We've all been there — either on the giving or receiving end of a cock block. Well, last night my ass was on the receiving end!

Once again my night started off with little expectation, and plenty of stimulation. I had a rough day at the office and figured that a couple of drinks would ease the pain.

Don't they always?

So, I rounded up the crew and got ready to rock. Considering that it was a Wednesday night, the plan was to hit up a few regular bars in midtown with the hope of running into other people who'd had shitty days and were also looking to 'ease the pain.' The bars were packed. And, to my surprise, one of my boys brought two girls from Texas that he'd met on the subway.

I don't have a preference in women; truthfully, I always find something I enjoy about every woman. That doesn't mean I lower my standards, it means I have a broad view. But, be that as it may, I'm a sucker for a Lone-Star cutie!

To create a visual for you, my girl was like a mixture of Mandy Moore and Mandy Moore!

Now, she wasn’t my girl from the start. There were other guys there, and I live by the words “All is fair in love and war.” However, I planted seeds throughout the night — a hand on her lower back here, an eye fuck there — subtle yet important seeds. You see, the key to winning the first time meet-up is playing your cards right. Don’t be over the top, or you'll come off as desperate or obnoxious. But you can't be a mute either. Let her know you're there and you're interested, but don't let her think you need her. This will create query in her mind, and women love a good conquests as much as men do.

Anyway, as the night came to an end, I see my boy and his girl going at it. (I’m not one for public affection, but I can admire a good communal make-out session as much as the next guy.) That's when my girl asked me if I wanted to get out of there. And that, you see, was the moment of truth! She was about to tell me one of two things with her eyes— "You don’t have a chance in hell” or “This shit's on when we get back.”

I looked at her, received the smile, and I knew it was on! But as hard as we tried — trust me, my boy and I tried hard to get them to come home with us — they were set on taking us back to their hotel. So, considering I just wrote 9 Steps To A Good Away Game, I figured, what the hell.

As we exited the elevator, I got a very pleasant surprise. They were staying in separate rooms! Easy, right?

Wrong.

I don’t know exactly what the hell happened in my boy’s room, but let me tell you what happened in mine. We walked in the room, my girl shut the door, and then she pulled the whole let-me-use- bathroom line. But she left the door open, just enough so I could watch her undress and get an idea of what I was about to work with. I got the Idea! It was on! So she came out of the bathroom, walked slowly toward the bed, and then ... BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM on the door.

I jumped up. "What the fuck?” I thought. And, considering it sounded like her friend was getting murdered in the hall, she of course answered the door.

I don’t know what type of move my buddy tried in the next room, but I do know this: it didn’t work!

This story, my friends, is a sad one. It lacks the fairy-tale ending you probably hoped for. No Notebook ending here, just hard-core truth! His girl eventually calmed down and came back to planet Earth. We all left on good terms, and I think my buddy's girl actually took his number. But I was left with an empty feeling in my stomach (definitely not in my cock; that was plenty full). My boy and his girl had completely, yet accidentally, cock blocked the shit out of me!

The accidental cock block happens all the time, and there is nothing you can do about it except take one thing from it. And that one thing is this: You would have gotten some ass if it wasn't for that block. So you, my friend, fought half the battle and won! So as horny as I am today, I’m standing tall and walking around as if I got laid last night, just because!

9 Steps To A Good "Away Game"

When was the last time you awoke in a stranger’s bed?

After asking yourself that question, ask yourself this one: Are you happy with your answer, or upset because you’re not getting enough ass?

The 'away game' is a very special part of life's overall game. When you spend the night at someone else’s house, you are totally putting yourself out there for anything. The fact is, anytime you pull an away game you are completely setting yourself up for a night to remember.

Whether you're a girl that doesn’t necessarily look your best in the morning (then my advice to you is to keep a Walk of Shame kit in your purse), or the guy that can’t go more then 8 hours without a shower because you'll smell like you just played an entire football game, when you spend the night out, you step completely outside of your boundaries and could wake up asking yourself, “Where the hell am I?” or “Who the hell is this?”

However, there is a lot to be learned from having good and bad one-night stands, and it's important to take something from them all.

Recently, I was fortunate enough to 'play' an away game myself. As much as I would like to brag about how amazing I was, I can’t this time— I'd be lying. In my defense, it was the night of a buddy's bachelor party, so you can imagine what type of shape I was in. But I have quite a bit of knowledge on this subject — solutions for all the single warriors that need to be prepared, because you never know when your next away game will sneak up on you.

“The Away Game” Single Warrior Checklist: Before, During And, Of Course, After

1. ALWAYS Have Condoms With You

How stupid would you feel if after you've convinced a woman to sleep with you, you realize you have no protection ... NOTHING? Don’t even think about sleeping with someone without wearing a condom. You don’t want to risk your life for a few hours (if you’re lucky) of pleasure.

2. She MUST Be A Stranger

Don’t mess with your friends! If one or both of you start to have feelings, it will become more complicated with sex. If you want it to be a one night stand, and ONLY that, stay off your friends.

3. Do NOT Eat Anything Weird Before

You want to spend time with a person, not with a porcelain bowl! So be careful of your food choices. Mexican is a big no-no. Steak or chicken will do great for that day. Remember, hearing bowel movements while you’re going at it is just gross. And that weird position you lock-up in so you don’t shit yourself is very noticeable. So keep it simple.

4. Do NOT Fall Asleep

If you fall asleep, you might wake up unprepared for the face awaiting you. You might not even recognize the person, for that matter; and strangers can be scary in the morning! Or, even worse, you might wake up to a complete breakfast, ready for both of you to enjoy (this happened to me)! If that happens to you, your identity will be exposed. You also might realize that your one-night stand was a huge mistake after all. So be sneaky. Get your James Bond game on and leave the place without anyone noticing. But, worst of all, if you fall asleep, sometimes you don’t even get to do the deed (my mistake again). So make sure you have a nice big glass of water before to keep your ass up.

5. Do NOT Leave Any Tracks

Make sure you grab all your crap before you leave. Things like your lighter, socks, T –shirt, and even your used protection could all be used as evidence to search for your whereabouts. Haven’t you learned anything from CSI?

6. Do NOT Kiss Her When You Leave

This would be one huge mistake! It would mean that the night was something more than a simple one-night stand. Unless you want more from this away game, turn that head and go cheek full throttle.

7. If You Do Fall Asleep, Make Sure You're In An Outfit You Don't Mind Waking Up In

I sleep naked, so this step doesn’t apply to me, but a buddy of mine recently slept at a girl's house and woke up naked on the couch. True story. Needless to say, he didn't wake up next to the girl he had sex with, but rather awoke to find her male roommate standing over him! Enough said.

8. If You Must Spend The Entire Night, Create Urgency For An Early Departure

This is very important. If you tell her the night before that you have to depart early the next day, you leave no room for rebuttals. You've stated the facts before hand, and she should respect that. Think of a good excuse before sleep, and hold on strong.

9. Try Your Hardest To Call Her By The Right Name When Leaving

Talk about a weird exit! If you don’t remember her name, don’t risk saying anything. Play it safe with a kiss on the cheek. Anything more and you could set yourself up for a silence that is just too uncomfortable for words.

So, warriors, go out there and make me proud! The next time you leave your house make sure you run through this checklist.

Last Man Standing

Have you ever felt alone and scared? Maybe even helpless? Are you questioning everything you do? It’s a shitty feeling, and one I believe many 20-something singles go through. In fact, I think a lot of my buddies are feeling that way right now. They're thinking, “I’m I running out of time” or “ If I don’t get a girlfriend now I’m going to be stuck with whatever’s left!”

Living in New York City can be great. Fuck, at times it’s amazing! But it can also be a very lonely place, especially if your friends are all getting ‘wifed’-up. I’m 25 and by no means — and I stress the word no — do I worry about running out of time. I believe strongly in letting life take its course. I also I have plenty of things I want to do before I settle down. (And I want to do them alone, so save the you-can-do-everything-you-want-with-your-partner crap, because that’s a bunch of boloney.) But lately, I feel like everybody I know is so fucking incredibly worried about finding a significant other that they forget to live! What the fuck?

A few of my buddies are stuck in incredibly shitty relationships because they are just comfortable. I mean, it’s getting hard for me to find someone to grab a drink with after work on a Wednesday because my buddies are being dragged all over SoHo shopping for dog purses or some such shit. And the worst part is, they don't even have dogs!

I could see them settling down if they're happy, but they're not! I know that, and they know that.

The truth will prevail; it always does. Shitty relationships always come to an end. Their worlds will come crashing in on them, and that'll suck. But, hey, what am I supposed to do in the meantime? As the last man standing am I supposed to start looking for a girlfriend, just because?

Fuck no! I'm not going to let other people's actions back me into a corner. I'm going to stay single, even if that means finding new hobbies or trying new things. That’s why last night, while out with one of my remaining soldiers, a girl asked me to go to a sex/role-play party with her, and I accepted. At first, I wasn't sure; I questioned it. But then I thought, why not? I might be, like, the next Leonardo DiCaprio of the role-playing world — just straight up crushing doctor and teacher scenes!

So now I can't wait. And you better believe I’ll be packin' Blue Steele with me. Isn't it an unwritten rule that it’s OK to bring Viagra to a sex/role-play party? I mean, would Hacksaw Jim Duggan go into a wrestling match without a 2x4?

I don’think so!

So I leave you with these parting words: Your buddies are going to get girlfriends; it's a part of life. But that does not mean that you have to run to the attic and grab your fishing pole. There are plenty of fish out there, and life will do its thing. But if your ass gets invited to a sex party, you say, "Yes!"... and speak no further!

One For The Spank Bank

I'd like to think that I’m pretty friendly with everyone in my building. I hold the door, help carry groceries, and even pet my neighbors' dogs. However, lately I’m starting to think that my friendliness is giving off the wrong vibe to at least one person in the building — a woman named Susie.

Last Sunday morning, while heading to my apartment after a Halloween party the night before, she put me in an incredibly weird and awkward situation. I got into the elevator as usual, and out of the corner of my eye saw Susie making her way toward the car. Being nice, I stuck my walking stick — a prop from my boy scout costume — between the doors and held the elevator for her. She thanked me, and that's when the weirdness began.

Susie is extremely nice and funny, but she is also extremely old. Now, you know I love women in all age groups, but I do have a cut off. And over the age of 58 is where I draw the line! But Susie is apparently blind to boundaries; she felt it necessary to let me know that she has a thing for a man in a uniform. Being that I thought I looked more like a pedophile than a boy-toy for a grandma, I found it hard to think of my outfit as sexy. But in an effort to be nice to my elder, I smiled and played along.

Knowing that I'd just moved into the building, Susie asked, "How do you like living here?"

"I love it," I answered. "My apartment is coming along great."

She nodded, and then asked. "What does your apartment look like? Can I see it?"

Now, if any other woman asked me those questions at any other time, I'd have thrown on the full court press, and it would have gone down as soon as we got off the elevator. But this wasn't any woman; it was Susie. And even though she was probably hot twenty-five years ago, I wasn't going there. So I lied. “I need to make a few more adjustments," I said.

But Susie had her own ideas about what needed adjusting, and before I knew it ... BAM! I felt like my balls were playing Mercy with Patrick Ewing. Yep, you guessed it — she reached out and wrapped her old, wrinkly hand around my goods.

I’m a freak, so I would be lying if I told you I didn’t like it a little bit. It felt good, but we were approaching my floor and it was time to make a move. So I gently grabbed her waist and let her know I was flattered by her gesture, but just couldn’t proceed any further.

Maybe you think I should have taken her wrinkly ass back to her apartment to see if she still had any butterscotch left in her tank, but I'd already gotten what I needed — some good ol’ material for the spank bank. Call me crazy, but at some point when I’m home alone, I'll refer to that elevator ride and use that material in a nice imagination-station session.

So, Susie, if you reading this, I love ya girl, but it was just the wrong time and place. Come back at me after a few cocktails and we might have a different ending.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

A Tickle From Grandpa: A Thanksgiving Story

Last night was Thanksgiving eve, and depending on where you grew up, that could mean one of two things: A) You were lucky enough (or, perhaps, unlucky enough) to reunite with the girl who took your virginity; or B) You were sitting in a local bar, looking around at all the mutants you grew up with, saying, “Damn, I had fun in fucking high school!" Either way, you have a lot to be thankful for. And, so do I. And that's something I realized on Thanksgiving morning.
[Cue heartwarming-story music]
It all started with a tickle from grandpa ...
I'd fallen asleep naked on my mother's couch, just like I usually do when I go home for a visit. Normally, I wake up early enough to get myself together before guests arrive, but this Thanksgiving I awoke to my grandparents standing over me with a nice box of pastries, and my mother standing beside them in pure disgust.
Knowing the shit-show that I am, they weren’t surprised to find me naked and snuggling an empty box of one-year-old Girl Scout cookies. So I smiled, said I was sorry, and they were quick to forgive. My grandfather even gave me a tickle. And that, my friends, was when I realized I have the best fucking family in the world.
It was also when I realized that it's time for my mother to get her act together and buy some better fucking munchies! I mean, who the hell keeps twelve-month-old thin mints? Or, an even better question is this: How the fuck do thin mints go uneaten for a year?  But all that aside, I flat-out love my mother! She’s one of a kind, and I wish I could spend more time with her.
My life has taken me in a direction that's pulled me away from home. Sure, I make a valiant effort to visit often, and I always keep in touch. But nothing — nothing — can replace a good ol’ fashion Thanksgiving homecoming. Football, stuffing, hand-jobs in the parking lots of  your favorite bars — whatever it is that makes you remember how much you love where you grew up — those memories are always a little warmer during the holiday season.
You know what I'm sayin'? No matter what life throws your way, you always have a home base and a home team. My team spent Thanksgiving drinking Grand Marnier and making the girls on Soul Train look like ballerinas.  Hell, my grandma was grinding up on my grandpa at one o'clock in the afternoon! She’s so goddamn cute (and she smelled like an angel)! Yours might have sung Christmas carols or watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. But no matter what your team did, the fact is, they were there for you, and you need to thank them for that.
Christmas is only a few weeks away, so you'll soon get another chance to love on the people you don't get to see that often. So don't blow it! Remember to grind up on your grandma, and don’t forget to sneak way from the Christmas table to smoke a joint before you feast. You'll need to justify eating nine Pillsbury Doughboy biscuits!

Booty Call: Feelings Not Included

Last Tuesday, after a long, strenuous trip down to Atlantic City, I was curled up in bed, relaxing in front of the tube, when my cell buzzed. It was 12:35 a.m.  I grabbed my phone off my night stand and took a glance. I was pleasantly surprised to see a text from a lady friend of mine whom I had not had sex with yet. It read: "Are you still up?”

I knew immediately what she wanted.

Considering that a busy day of work was only six hours away, I quickly had to decide if I should  a) drop the hammer on this girl and stay up dealing with the aftermath: walking her to a cab, maybe getting stuck watching TV, and getting to sleep at around 4-ish; or b) not reply, and save that get-out-of-jail card for another evening.

I’m guessing you've already figured out that I chose the first option. I texted back, “Why, yes I am : ) ..."

Now, I know some of you might be thinking that adding a smiley face to my reply was a little cheesy, and maybe you're right, but only partially. I believe that subtle acts of cheesiness force a girl to think, “Aw, what a nice guy!”  So, go ahead and laugh if you think I'm wrong or if you think I’m making too much of a smiley face. But I put the damn smiley face in the text and it’s too late to go back and take it out!

“I’m a couple blocks from your apartment," she quickly replied. But — get this — I soon found out that was a lie, because before I could even attempt to throw on my silk robe and slippers, she was downstairs on the buzzer.

I let her in, and before I could say hello, her clothes were on the floor and we were under my sheets. I did my usual foreplay: I started with her neck, ran my hand along her inner thigh, and then I spent a good 3-5 minutes with my tongue in her ear. (If executed correctly, the tongue-in-the-ear trick is a one-way ticket to the promised land. If executed incorrectly, you could come off as a golden retriever searching for leftovers.) Considering I wrote the book on the tongue-in-the-ear trick, her panties were dangling from my lamp in no time.

The sex? Unbelievable! Seriously, I went from dozing off in my bed, to a full-blown work-out session.  We must have accomplished 4-5 different positions. Plus, she slapped me twice and I had sex with her feet.  I know, I know — shit got straight-up freaky. But, all that aside, she ended up being quite the booty call — she was good, didn’t over-do her stay, and was out of the apartment within the hour.

That was last week, and since then we've dropped occasional pointless texts like “How’s your day?” and “Some weather today, huh?”  Then, this morning I received a text from her that I wasn’t prepared for: “Really? Like, really? You’re just going to let me come over, have sex, and then not call?”

Now, before I tell you what I wrote back, I have to say that this, my friends, is where I think I’m right and anyone who hits people up for booty calls and expects more than just sex is WRONG. I am hereby officially declaring it an unofficial rule that when a girl decides to text or call me after 12:00 a.m., with the sole purpose of getting laid, she does not have the right to demand feelings in addition to sex. And she certainly doesn't have the right to pretend that I used her.

I mean, c'mon! She used me! She knows damn well it was a booty call. This I know because when I offered her cab money at the end of the night, the exchange that followed was brutally weird — almost like as if I had just paid for a hooker.

So, when I got her text today, I was taken aback. But only momentarily.

I knew that getting mad wouldn't benefit either one of us, so I humored her. “Really? Like, really?" I texted back. "You’re just going to come over, fuck me, and not even stay to cook me breakfast in the morning?"

Oh, and I added the damn smiley face again, too. I suspect it'll work like a charm.