Oct 182011
 

“[He] didn’t speak a word about condoms, and, in response, I didn’t either.” That’s from my friend Rachel Kramer Bussel‘s article, Dating Drama: No Glove, No Love? Not Always. What’s more? Another writer friend, Carolyn Castiglia confesses, “I’m not using them right now, either.” Current HIV/AIDS and STI rates in New York City warn the vast majority of reported chlamydia and gonorrhea cases are among women. Knowing Rach and Carolyn don’t wrap it up every time drives this sex educator crazy. I love them, and I want their little vaginas to be healthy.

I’ve taught hundreds of people how slip male and female prophylactics against penises and vaginas. Many use condoms. Adults who don’t often complain, But it feels different without one. True as that may be, guess what probably feels worse? Getting gonorrhea. I recently learned its nickname, “the clap,” likely comes from the Old French word clapier, meaning brothel. Somewhere a long time ago, a velvet beret-clad old Parisian dude named Jean-Pierre d’Oesti probably had a secret and jaunted to a teeny cafe near the Seine to share it with the tall handlebar-mustached bartender, Jacques Francois Mautadit Tabarnacle, who happened to be his best friend. Quietly, Jean-Pierre probably whispered to Jacques Francois, “Ca brule quand j’fais pipi. Il y a une sorte de merde verte qui sort de mon zizi et mes couilles sont enflés!” (English translation: It burns when I pee. There is some kind of green shit oozing out of my dick and my testicles are swollen.”) In response, Jacques Francois probably laughed. “Err, leet me guezz. You visited a, um, brothel?” Twirling mustache with forefinger and thumb, he continued, “Now you have … err … how you say … Le clap clap?! Oh, la la! Ah ha ha ha!” Thus, the slang was born! ;)

All kidding and French stereotypes aside, in addition to “the clap,” gonorrhea is also called “the drip” because that’s exactly what happens. If you contract gonorrhea, green shit might ooze out of your penis or vagina. That’s fucking gross. You don’t want that. So, I implore everyone out there bumping uglies, please keep your genitals safe. Wear condoms.

Balls Out Comedy ShowTeaching more than 50 men and women ages 21+ how to talk dirty while incorporating condoms into foreplay, last Saturday night, I performed my “Adults Only, Dirty Talk” condom demonstration as part of the Balls Out Comedy show at the Bowery Poetry Club. Sex education programs have to be incredibly audience specific. In classroom instruction, I keep condom demonstrations clinical/technical. It’s about How to Put On A Condom. Proper steps. No jokes. Why? There’s a difference between perfect use and typical use. From Guttmacher‘s first-use condom research we know, if you use a condom correctly, the failure rate is only about 2%. However, if you use it the way people typically use them–without checking the expiration date or looking for air tightness, without squeezing the tip, withdrawing without holding on to the end, etc.–the failure rate jumps to nearly 20%. Adults, don’t like being told, in essence, “Um, yeah, you don’t know how to put on a condom.” They know. Some simply choose not to. So, I teach those fabulous ladies and gentlemen pleasure-based techniques. At Saturday’s show, I grabbed a dude from the audience and made him hold a yellow banana in front of his penis as I taught the beer-sipping audience how to safely tear the plastic condom packet open with teeth, roll the rubber on a shaft with their mouths and/or while jerking him off, play with the guy’s balls, and talk dirty throughout the whole thing. We had a blast!

If this sounds fun, join me next time. You can catch me performing, educating and training throughout the New York metro area. Again, tone varies by topic and presentation. Apologies I didn’t post about Balls Out Comedy until after the fact. I’ve been super busy. Moving forward, for those who would like to attend, I’ll do a better job of posting relevant announcements on my site before the event. Subscribe to keep up with me, and link up on Facebook, Twitter and YouTube.

Aug 272011
 

Archive: Eye of Hurricane Ivan (NASA, 09/11/04)

Mayor Bloomberg shut off our subway system, the MTA, from noon on Saturday. There’s talk of preemptively killing electricity in parts of the city. Across the water, New Jersey’s Governor Christie warned people … and this is a direct quote … “Get the hell off the beach.” Oh, yes he did, adding, “You’re done. Do not waste any more time working on your tan.”

Hopefully all the hype about the storm is just hype, but no one can be sure. The New York Times has a good realtime Hurricane Irene tracker. Given the storm is losing steam at the moment, I’m more worried about boredom than safety. I crave people more than power. If the Empire State incurs minimal damage but the city loses electricity, I’ll need a hurricane party. Flashlights, candles, booze, board games, interesting people, etc. To keep up with me during Irene, Twitter is the best place for to-the-moment updates. Follow me: http://twitter.com/funkybrownchick

Aug 242011
 

Two oranges, one apple

No Surprise for Bisexual Men: Report Indicates They Exist. The study in question is Northwestern University Department of Psychology researchers’ Sexual arousal patterns of bisexual men revisited. In other bizarre and unpredictable news, Humans have two eyes. Carry on, folks!

Speaking of bisexuality, a shameless plug and heads up … BIDEOLOGY, a thought-provoking documentary about women dating bisexual men, comes out (no pun intended) Spring 2012. In the meantime, watch BIDEOLOGY (Trailer) on Vimeo.

Dec 092010
 

In my writing / creative career, things are going well. Really well. Theoretically, I shouldn’t have anything to complain about. But, I will for a bit because I have to get something off my chest. Winter. Prone to depression, the cold weather, blistering winds and lack of sunny days really fucks with my mood. Inbox emails pile up. I fall behind on projects. I make stupid mistakes. I eat more than usual, and I gain weight. It’s as if my body is forcing its way into a slow, socially awkward lockdown for the winter. I recently read about hibernation. Why? Because, that’s we what geeks do. We have super-intense stare downs with Jimmy Wales while looking up random shit on Wikipedia :) Anyway. Digging online has taught me marmots go into hiding throughout much of September through May. They’re basically like, “Yeah, we’re not down with cold weather shit. We’ll pass.” I want to do that. Honestly, ideally, I’d live in New York City during the nicer months and move somewhere warm during the winters. But, I digress. I actually have a point about online dating for today’s blog post.

Over the years, I’ve tried a bunch of different sites. Match.com, Salon, Craigslist, Nerve Personals, J-Date, etc., etc. Photos trump words. If the guy looks like a douchebag, I won’t bother reading the profile. If his pictures are cute, I’ll click through. Granted, he doesn’t have to look like Gabriel Aubry or Eric Benét. But, I have to find him attractive.

“You need professional dating photos for the perfect online dating profile,” advertises a company called Dating Headshots. They wanted me to poke around their site and let you guys know about their services. Generally speaking, I disagree with them. No, you don’t need professional photos on your online dating profile. It looks cheesy. What’s more? I’d rather a guy look exactly like his image when he shows up, not a glamorized, airbrushed version of himself. But, who am I to knock their service before trying it? Plus, some of you — men and women — ARE fans of headshot pics. So, when Dating Headshots kindly told me they wanted me to try them out and offer all FUNKY BROWN CHICK® readers a 10% discount (your special code: 127287) on Silver and Gold Studio photo shoots, I figured I’d give them a whirl. I originally planned to get my hair & makeup done for the occassion, but I decided against it. I wore the same outfit, hairstyle and makeup from earlier that day. The photographer snapped a bunch of pictures. My favorites were the candid, full-length shots where his only instruction / question was, “Can you walk toward me?” He was cute. So, of course, I strut.

Photo by Aydin Arjomand

Photo by Aydin Arjomand

This is winter in New York City. Would I use the images on a dating profile? I’m not sure, but I like these shots — even though the images aren’t drenched in sunshine, and I’m not wearing a bikini. I think the pictures work because they’re simple. No bells. No whistles. No bright colors. No fancy settings. No cropping, touch ups, corrections or other alterations. It’s just me and Manhattan. Surprisingly, I like it! Maybe I’ll survive this “Winter Season” crap afterall.

Pssst! Again, if you decide to try Dating Headshots, remember FUNKY BROWN CHICK® folks get a 10% discount on some photo shoots. Use the code 127287. Contact them with any question. If you do it, let me know and show me your pictures!

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Photo credit: Dating Headshots photo by Aydin Arjomand.

Dec 062010
 

Black Swan

First, an update. I’m ridiculously grateful. In recent weeks, new creative opportunities came my way — hence, the light blogging as I got everything sorted out. Expect exciting announcements in early 2011. In the meantime, on with our regularly scheduled program at FUNKY BROWN CHICK®. I recently saw director Darren Aronofsky’s flick BLACK SWAN starring Natalie Portman. If you’ve not yet seen it, here’s the trailer. As others have noted, it’s basically an arthouse version of Showgirls — but better. Waaaaay better. The film’s plot cleverly mirrors the ballet’s storyline. Nina (Natalie Portman) is a frigid ballerina in Manhattan who dances the lead role in Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. Her rival, Lily (Mila Kunis), vies to take her spot. Porny/Showgirls infusions include a Natalie Portman who CANNOT STOP MASTURBATING. Plus, there’s a girl-on-girl action shot when the Baywatch chick (Kunis) goes down on Nina. Current.com calls them frenemies with benefits.

The script contains several winning quotes. When Nina (Portman) replaces Beth (Winona Ryder) as head dancer and pilfers her dressing room, Ryder — previously arrested for shoplifting at Saks Fifth Avenue — indignantly lips the line: You stole my stuff?! Another great one? The sexy Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel), points to uptight Nina and asks a male ballerina, Would you fuck that girl? When he doesn’t answer, Thomas’ heavy French accents drips: Exactly. No one would. Speaking of Vincent Cassels — because BLACK SWAN convinced me I soooo need to look at his face more often — I recently streamed IRREVERSIBLE on Netflix. Um, big mistake. That movie was so gratuitously and destructively violent I actually watched YouTube clips of dolphins and a kitty & a furry little puppy licking each other to get it out of my head. Fuck, man. Seriously. It’s intense. In any case … Back to BLACK SWAN.

Seeing Nina and Lily’s relationship on the screen, I thought about how women interact in friendships compared to men. A frenemy, according to Wikipedia, is “an enemy disguised as a friend” or “a partner who is simultaneously a competitor and rival.” Jumping off the screen and going elsewhere in Hollywood, it’s been alleged Eva Longoria is divorcing Tony Parker due to his sexting relationship with Erin Barry –wife of Tony’s former NBA teammate. That sucks because Eva & Erin were girlfriends, and Tony & Brent were dude friends. Here’s a photo of the smiling foursome paling around before all this shit went down. My thoughts? (1) I read too much celebrity gossip news. (2) Question: Are women more likely to be competitive with each other than men are — à la Natalie Portman & Mila Kunis in BLACK SWAN? Or, does competition among women simply manifest itself differently? Let’s chew on that in the comments section.

Nov 162010
 

Rally to Restore Sanity March For Fear

Finally uploaded clips from the other weekend. Click to load video: http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=498965809467. It’s 24 hrs of the “Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear” in less than 5 mins. Waking at 4 am. Crowding with Arianna Huffington’s 10,000+ folks at Citi Field. Riding a packed bus 5 hours from NYC to DC. Scrambling on DC’s subways to get from RFK Stadium to the rally. “Seeing” Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert in the distance. Partying with friends & hanging on the roof.

Nov 122010
 

Manhattan Bridge

Reason #153 on the “Why I live in Manhattan, Not Brooklyn” list: It’s easy to find my way around. If I ever get lost in an unfamiliar neighborhood, a quick Metrocard swipe or arm extended in the air will safely get me home.

Direct video link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wo8YSJgbmbE

I can totally laugh about last night’s TRAINING DAY experience now. But, when I was in the moment — a woman abandoned at an unfamiliar corner in do-or-die Bed-Stuy, alone among men I didn’t know during the pitch black night — I was kind of scared shitless. I figured I’d be lucky if I ONLY got mugged. I’m happy little angels wings carried me safely home without incident. Thank you MTA for hiring a friendly bus driver. Thank you R. Penzo, Jeannette Arrowood and Emily Hanhan for offering Twitter guidance to get me back home! Ah, New York. If anyone needs a walking tour of Jay-Z‘s childhood neighborhood in Brooklyn, I can show you the route. Sheesh!! :-| Have a safe and happy weekend, everyone!! :)

Nov 042010
 

“What are three qualities you’re looking for in men you date?” Last weekend in DC, that’s the question a guy friend lobbed at me while sipping Patron. Having told me he likes fun women with happy dispositions who don’t live in messy apartments, he was curious about my tastes. In no particular order, I gave him a short list: someone who makes me feel just as good as I did — or better than — before I met him, and someone with an attractive/appealing personality. “Oh,” I added, “and he has to know how to fight.” Physical altercations are NOT hot, and I wouldn’t date a dude punched people — not other guys and definitely not women. That said, I definitely need a guy with a fighter’s spirit. He has to stand up for himself, and be passionate enough about something to compete or struggle for it.

Chicago Golden Gloves Amateur Boxing Tournament

I certainly don’t believe people should always date others who are exactly like them. I’ll link up with men from various ethnicities, age groups and religious backgrounds. “I don’t have to agree about everything with a guy,” I told the friend, “but it’s important to be on the same team when it comes to issues that matter.” I explained I’m in shape, and I like running. Consequently, my vagina doesn’t like guys who don’t take care of themselves. On the financial front — having gotten into a lot of credit card debt and a previous cycle of overspending — I’ve spent years cleaning up my credit, building savings and establishing more healthy attitudes toward money. I wouldn’t settle down with a dude with horrendously reckless shopping habits.

“So, it’s like what Chris Rock said about crackheads?” the DC friend offered.

“Huh?”

“Crackheads. Look it up.”

When I returned to New York, that’s exactly what I did. Here’s Chris Rock: “Whatever you’re into, your woman’s gotta be into, too, and vice versa. Or, the shit ain’t gonna work. lt ain’t gonna work. That’s right. lf you’re born-again, your woman’s gotta be born-again, too. lf you’re a crackhead, your woman’s gotta be a crackhead, too … You can’t be like, ‘I’m going to church, where you going?’ [He says] ‘Hitting the pipe!’ That relationship ain’t going nowhere. Two crackheads can stay together forever.”

I’m not a crackhead, but I am an independent and fairly subversive woman. If I dated a pushover, I’d resent his passivity and wouldn’t respect him. How about you? What are your deal breakers and core values that your partners must share?

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Photo by Kate Gardiner

Nov 022010
 

I’m back in New York after a weekend in DC. I have a post brewing called “I Can’t Date A Man Unless He Knows How to Fight.” I’ll publish it sometime later this week, and I’ll also upload my Rally to Restore Sanity videos & photos. In the meantime, you can find top rally sign photos online here. Now, on to today’s post …

As some of you may know, I’m originally from a small town in the cornfields. It’s the kind of place where trips to the local Wal-Mart were like high school reunions, and underage drinkers got their names printed in the local newspaper. Small Town USA. My business was your business and vice versa. I loved several things about the place (low cost of living, friendly people, a sense of community, etc.), but one of the many reasons why I left is this: I was dying there. Not literally, but my soul was suffocating and I needed space. Privacy. The ability to walk down a street and see no one who knew me.

Having jumped out of the fishbowl, I found myself in graduate school many years later. Florida. I was chair of the BGSA’s social committee. Shocker, right? Me? Social? Anyway. BGSA = Black Graduate Student Association. Within the university population, a relatively small number of students are MA, MBA and PhD candidates. Among that small group, a smaller number are black / African American. Inside that little circle, there are waaaay more women than men. I didn’t pursue an economics degree, but I understand sexual laws of supply and demand. If you were a Black man pursuing an MBA, your ass was hot property among BGSA women. Given the size of the group, it didn’t take long before everyone was boinking everyone else. Man A was sleeping with Woman B and Woman C at the same time even though he was in a so-called “monogamous” relationship with Woman D. Hell, I took part, too. And, you know what, I grew really sick of that crap. I’m all for sleeping around. Sex is good. Here’s the part that bothered me … When it comes to my sex life, I don’t like my business in everyone else’s faces.

Yes, I write about about my sex & dating life online, but there’s a difference between CHOOSING what I share and physically throwing my shit up in the crowd. I can’t count the number of men I’ve kissed, sucked, blown or fucked then written about them on my site. But, I can tell you exactly how many I’ve identified by name: 0. In recent weeks, there’s been a guy I’ve wanted to screw soooooooo badly I could almost taste his semen in my mouth. Making out with him the other night, I wanted to scream: “Just fuck me already! Screw all this other shit, let me drag you back to my place so we can fuck each other’s brains out for a couple hours until we both collapse … and, your ass BETTER take care of me again in the morning.” But, I didn’t. Why not? Honestly, it’s because he works in media / publishing. If I want to fuck a man real good and hard, that’s my business. I don’t want to walk into a party three weeks later (with the next man I’m screwing, mind you) and see the other guy with another girl he’s screwing — who I may or may not know from one of my previous threesomes. I’m much more discreet than that. Seriously, I don’t like the circle fuck.

Christmas Bokeh 2

ME: [removes dick from mouth] Wouldn’t it bother you?
HIM: What?
ME: If we’re in a party here next week and I’m with another guy who works with you?
HIM: I wouldn’t mind. I’d think: Good for him. I hit that, and now it’s his turn.

It’s called polyamory. Personally, I prefer monogamy but I fervently believe everyone should mutually consent to whatever type of relationships they wish. You can take the girl out of the Midwest … ah, you know the rest of the saying. Or, maybe it’s the other way around: What the hell is the point of leaving the Midwest to partake in a small Manhattan / Brooklyn-based community where everyone’s all up in each other’s business? Who knows? Life’s experiences thus far have taught me that relationships can be messy, confusing, exhilarating, beautiful, terrifying, comforting and wonderful. Not everything fits neatly inside one box. What I want today may not be what I want 5 or 10 years from today. And, I’m okay with that.

How about you? Have you ever found yourself in a circle of friends and/or industry (um, like, I don’t know, media / publishing) where everyone’s sleeping with each other? Are you in a polyamorous relationship? What’s your story?

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Photo credit: Paul Gallo

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