I never thought it would come to this, you guys. But, here we go; let’s talk about ‘grabbing a woman’s pussy.’ We all know what I’m talking about, so I’m going to try not to say his name.
In my 20 years of sexual activity, I’ve never once requested that anyone ‘grab my pussy.’ There’s a reason that this particular move isn’t foreplay, and is purely assault.
Because, it’s not fucking sexy.
If I came up to you, and pushed my finger between your ass cheeks (like with your pants on and everything), you wouldn’t get hard about it. It’s NOT foreplay.
Beyond the fact that this is assault, it’s really, really odd behavior.
It’s a primal, aggressive, and flat-out-weird as fuck to do to someone in this era. Like, this is some serious caveman bullshit. I’m waiting for the video where he just clubs a girl over the head and has his lackeys carry her off to the limo to be devoured.
“Grabbing” a pussy is probably the worst way to interact with one, and as a proud owner, I can confirm that they’re not really ‘grabbing’ shape (It’s like grabbing someone by the back?). It almost makes you question if he’s actually seen one. Though, I’m sure he’s molested his share of women.
Also, can we talk about how shitty he must be in bed, if this is his warm-up? Do you think he actually morphs into Jabba the Hut in his golden boudoir?
(The illusion is complete!)
I can’t tell you how sad I am that any woman has ever put out for this idiot. Personally, the thought of his sexuality makes my vagina zip itself up, all my juices dry, and my uterus retracts so far into my body that it’s hard to clear my throat, the fallopian tubes make it look like I’m wearing a choker from the inside. It’s creepy.
And, I’m depressed. I can’t believe how naive I’ve been! This whole time I’ve been cultivating a personality, building character.
Fuck substance, you guys.
Crotchless pants are the way to success in this world. Why didn’t I buy more chaps? My wardrobe feels so incomplete.
I thought it was just the election, but, no. He’s ruining fucking everything. I’m having to do a complete political screening for all my dates now. It’s so much work… And, so few men are passing. I mean it is a difficult quiz, like, T or F: Women are people? T or F? People deserve basic human rights. And, this one is really controversial for some reason: T or F? We shouldn’t shoot unarmed black men. Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK, AMERICA?
In the year 2014 – List of Guys I don’t Blow: People who neglect their hygiene, and exes (because I don’t look in the rearview mirror – I’m not heading that way!).
2016 – List of Guys I don’t Blow: Trump Supporters, Republicans in General, Police, Men who are afraid of the word ‘Feminism,’ Anyone who uses the phrase ‘locker room antics,’ #AllLivesMatter, #BlueLivesMatter.
Where I’m starting to sway is on the personal hygiene and exes, I’m thinking, maybe they weren’t such bad guys, and I could incorporate more shower work into my sex life... This isn’t good, guys…
Like, his bullshit is affecting MY PERSONAL SEX LIFE, and he had gone too far before (not just because I’m half Mexican, and you don’t fuck with the bringers of Tacos), but NOW it’s FUCKING WAR. You fuck with my orgasm, you’ve fucked with my WORLD, bud.
Now, I was raised extremely strictly by a huge Mexican daddy.
He’s a large, Machete looking, 70’s style, Naval boxer, and I can’t imagine what my 5’ nothing of an Abuileta would do to him if he had ever said something like that. She'd have fucking steamrollered him.
Trump wasn’t raised well. No matter what he thinks of his genes, his nanny did a piss poor job.
And, I think it’s an epidemic within the 1%.
They forget that we are the legs they stand on, and, guillotines are on sale on Amazon.
Guys, I’m fucking tired.
I don’t know… It’s like an sexistential crisis, only it’s more ‘been there, done YOU.’ All of you… Sigh…
Like, I’ve been dating for twenty years. It feels like I’ve dated every man on the planet. I’ve tried every flavor they make. I know I may not have fucked you, specifically, but I’ve fucked enough men with your body type to have a pretty good idea about your junk without ever having to have seen it.
Let’s call it an educated guess. And, the saddest part is that I’m pretty accurate, like scary accurate.
Like one of those really good police sketch artists, where the guy they caught looks just like the sketch. And, you know his buddies were like, “dude, she even got your freckles right.”
One where you KNOW his mom recognized him. “He always did have that miscut foreskin.”
I’m just fucking tired… Like that Madeline Khan song, from Blazing Saddles:
Sick and tired of love, from below… and above…
I’ve been with thousands of men, again and again…
I’ve decided that I’m going abstinent.
But, I haven’t been fucking anyone for the last five months, anyway, so this change won’t really affect anyone. I’m making it official, though, because it makes me feel like I’ve got control over it, as opposed to what it is:
A timely exit from the dating pool, just as my eighteen-year-old daughter happens to be entering it.
On account of gross, right? That’s no coincidence.
And, It’s not just that I’m biologically obsolete, either, which is fucking charming…
I’m not exactly your typical dating material. Not everyone is into older, chubbier, tattooier, stand-up comics, and I’m definitely a unique sale. Like, I’m nerdy and quirky, but not in a Zooey Deschanel way, more like in a Lizzie Borden.
Someone is probably going to get hit... In the head… With an axe.... Like 40 times...
Like, I think you can tell just by looking at me that I’ve made up a rich back-story for my cat.
So, going celibate is a good decision. I promise, I feel really good about it. I’m just waiting until October 1st, because I really hate the last guy I fucked.
So, I’m taking a minute to find someone and cleanse my palette, so to speak… (That’s the grossest way I could think of to convey that sentiment.)
I’m going out with one last bang before I put it down forever.
One last fuck. Kinda’ like the last supper, but not as many attendees, and not nearly as well catered. It’s just sausage on the menu.
And, I’m taking a lot more care with choosing the last fuck than I ever did giving out the first one, let me tell you.
Because I had so MANY fucks to give at that point. I was 16.
It was a whole new world of dicks… A fresh penised landscape everywhere…
Nothing but opportunity for spiked seating, if you know what I mean…
But, alas, no more.
I have a bit of a beef to address, before I go:
I never found anyone, it didn’t happen for me.
So, ladies, this is to you. If you did happen to find a great man, and you’ve been with him for a while, could you please do me a solid and fuck him? I can’t handle how many really awesome married men go without. I’d totally donate $.35 per day to this cause. It’s very near and dear to my heart. Cue the music…
I will fellatiate you…
If you will fuck choke me…
I’m not going to fuck your man, I promise. But, YOU definitely should.
Life is hard. So should be dick, you guys...
I'm Jane Malone.