I love when a group of boys part so I can walk through. It’s like a red sea of penises, and I am their Moses.
Few things in life give me amour-propre than the unleashing of my drool-inducing curves for peen provides me. It is the closest thing I have to feeling what it must be like to be Beyonce.
Most of us don’t come installed with a Beyonce metric for sexy. Often times when a woman tries to force sexy, we overdo it and come across looking like a confused drag queen going to an Adore Delano clear shoe swap meet. Since the majority of us don’t aim for drag queen as our signature style, how then do we gauge when we are being authentically sexy?
Like most women, my sexy metric is often gauged in the caterwauling approval in men. Times like walking the harrowing gauntlet of a construction site then hearing an ebullient, self-affirming narrative from a gaggle of construction workers: “DAMN! YOU ARE FINE!!! I’d like to hit that. Come sit on my face!” It is only in that moment that a woman knows she is having a good hair day.
So it is truly a sad, sad day for us fermenting beauties who like to wear coochie cutters with 6 inch heels, painted on spandex tank tops, hair up like a Shih Tzu caught in a tornado, are then forced to retire our look for more demure, age appropriate styles.
It has long been a goal of mine to find a gent that would look at me the same way that I look at bacon. I finally found one. Out of all the ways Ryker is sexy, I think the most sexy part of him is how hot he looks when adoring me. The looks he gives me, are the things panty pudding dreams are made of. Nothing, I repeat NOTHING is more sexy than a man who doesn’t hate my face. But just because a gal finds a good cock doesn’t mean that she still isn’t riddled with “short shelf life expiration date angst” as she gets older. I am not alone. In our current youth centric times, most women hitting 40 worry about being replaced by a younger, tighter, more supple version of themselves. Sure, Ryker loves me now, but he will he when my tits look like two uncooked Bisquick dumplings?
Does one lose their ability to be sexy with age? How would you define sexy?
Whatever. That is so cliche. Anybody would look sexy all wet and washing a car. Even me.
Sexiness is defined in a pretty monolithic way. As a culture, we are constantly striving to define it. If you just Google “what is sexy,” up comes a plethora of pornofied antiseptic images, and search terms that basically downgrade a woman to nothing more than some glossy arm charm with a warm hole respite for a penis.
We have become a culture obsessed with hyper-groomed, hyper-cultivated perfection, momentarily allured by hair extensions, large chests, big bottoms and stilettos. Social media, entertainment and advertising brand hotness in the form of bronzed abs, injected lips, bleached bum holes, and fake boobs. We’re so conditioned toward the fake image that it is has become normalized as Definitively Sexy.
Okay. All you feminists out there can hold the Helen Reddy song, cause what women view as sexy ain’t much better. A mugshot posted to the Stockton Police Department’s Facebook page of one“Jeremy Meeks,” has a slew of women making panty pudding. Meeks is currently in San Joaquin County Jail for felony weapon charges with a $900,000 bail demand, but that doesn’t seem to stop the already 12,700 likes and over 3,000 comments from women hoping to bring his peen to their sexual justice. (Cue the porn music: Bom Chicka Wah Wah.)
Whether it’s Meeks’ smoldering good looks, or the soulful way he is staring into your heart to steal it, women are making a verbal love orgy all over the internet. Stay tuned for a producer from BRAVO with a Kickstarter to raise the $900,000 bail, and turn this bad boy’s life around in a reality show: THIEF OF HEARTS ( And Your Life Savings). What do you think of that pitch Andy?
Sex appeal is fifty percent what you’ve got and fifty percent what people think you’ve got. ~ Sophia Loren
Of course there is no greater place to apply that theory than in the world of online dating. It is a meatsphere, morphisized-jumble of misrepresentations. Why it is birthplace of the Catfish, and a place where PhotoShop thrives… Nuttin like a good soften filter, eh ladies? Yep. Nothing tests a person’s emotional bandwidth more then being misled, judged, examined, or rejected by an anonymous populous of emotionally crippled onlookers.
Users of the popular online dating site OkCupid who are looking to avoid sullying their search results with unattractive people can now filter out the undesirables courtesy of a recently installed feature that allows premium users to select — or, rather, de-select, the physical attributes of potential love interests, thereby eliminating any result that doesn’t match. Among the body types users are invited to ignore: “Overweight,” “full figured,” “a little extra,” and “used up.”Or “ridden hard, put away wet.”
If online dating sites aren’t bad enough for our self-esteem, comes a flurry of websites and phone apps that rank our sexiness and spin the body narrative in the most obscene ways.
Sites like Hot or Not or CanDoBetter.com, helps you evaluate whether you’re too cool (or too hot) for your current mate. CanDoBetter.com lets you post a picture of you and your partner then members vote which of you could do better in the relationship. If someone “can do better,” based on the community’s votes, he or she has the option of meeting someone new from the member pool. Sound fun? But wait there’s more!
.The phone app PLAYBOOK takes locker room chit-chat to a virtual douche level by providing a no holds barred platform for men to rank and discuss their hookups with women, essentially recommending them to their bros. Ladies, consider it a dude’s version of YELP about your vagina.
Keeping with the theme of jackbaggery magnification: Sensorial Condoms allows you to measure your performance, the pushings, the speed and calories burned. You can track where, when, why, and give reviews to the warm hole that your peen made a cockular union with. Best of all, you can compare your performance benchmarks with your friends’ averages, join monthly challenges for cockular-motivation, and delete your worst performances (the most requested).
A stark contrast to current attitudes, the Renaissance era provided men the preference of a more voluptuous woman, with large breasts and roomy hips. Women who were slightly overweight among thin peasants were thought to be well off and fertile, then Twiggy had to come along and ruin a perfectly good thing for all us Hostess hoarders.
The 1960s were a time when women aimed to hide their curves. In fact, some would even bind their chests with strips of cloth to achieve a boyish, I’m searching for Chaz Bono look. With the introduction of the model Twiggy, the idea of slenderness became more popular and standard among the model world which pretty much continued today.
I was born in the 1970′s where cocaine thin bods like Bianca Jagger were chic and a natural woman fro on a cooter were all the rage.
Oh those were the days when a panty model’s marabou feather slippers were as fluffy as her crotch bush… Oh, how I know. Lawn darts and children drinking Drano were really big in the 70′s too. I think we can all agree that some trends are better left forgotten.
Getting old sucks monkey balls. Once naturally train rail thin, I now must watch my weight as my metabolism has changed with age. Since I could eat anything I wanted in my younger days and never gain weight, refraining from burying my face in a vat of pretzel M&Ms doesn’t come easy for me. Of course I could probably succeed at any diet as long as someone tranquilizes me after 8pm.
In Ohio most fitness consists of lifting logs, rocks, or bottles of 40oz malt liquor but among the roomy Cheese Factory crowd is a slew of tight, firm, bootylicous babes.
And we all know how much sexy stock men put into a woman having a nice ass. Oh stop. We know. Every guy remembers exactly where he was when he saw his first thong. It’s like a dude’s own personal JFK assassination moment.
I have yet to meet a man 45 years of age and under that doesn’t have an affinity for booty. Why 95% of dudes are looking at a woman’s ass no matter what she is doing. You can count on it like global warming, Obamacare issues, and Charlie Sheen ordering a hooker. Which is why it sucks for me being born white and Irish. It all translates to having the hindquaters of a gnat.
My yoga pal Roxy tells me to do more squats or spin class to sculpt my assets. But I am not a fan of anything that makes me sweat without an orgasm being at the other end of it. My fitness motto: If God had wanted us to bend over, He would have put penises on the floor.
Why should I have to? Sexiness is in our DNA, it goes beyond body image. It is everywhere and elusive, and could be any of the following items from this extremely impartial list: like smell, facial symmetry, charisma, voice pitch, bed cred, financial stability, intellect, or kissing prowess.
“The Science of Sex Appeal,” a documentary explaining the influences of what makes us want to combine loin juices, gave me some interesting insight on what makes us sexy. Much of it involves math but if you want the nitty gritty on what makes a woman sexy, well it pretty much revolves around a woman’s shark week.
According to science a woman’s attractiveness fluctuates depending on where she is in her menstrual cycle. Apparently a woman’s body is unconsciously trying to ho her out, advertising the fact that she wants to attract a mate when she is ovulating. Her lips become slightly bigger and brighter, pupils dilate, and women’s ears, fingers, breasts and other soft tissue areas become more symmetrical all during her eggs release. Similarly, scientists at the University of Texas found that women’s “waists shrank by about half an inch, giving them a more curvaceous and shapely silhouette.” Even women’s voices change, becoming more high-pitched right before the red rivers flow.
It has long been assumed that men prefer long hair, big boobs and curves. But why? Doctor Devendra Singh may provide an answer. Dr. Singh has poured years of research into this very subject mainly focusing on a waist-to-hip ratio in women. This curvaceous study tracks female body types from early Indian literature to modern pop culture. Singh’s research revolves around measuring a woman’s breasts and waist and then comparing those ratios with their estrogen levels and fertility. Followed by some math science stuff. These findings determined that men are hard wired to seek a certain shape and women with a 0.7 hip-to-waist ratio (roomy hips but with small waists) make for good breeders. Further concluding that men intuitively seek out curvealicious beauties to implant their peen seed into. So the hour glass figure is more than just a fashion trend but an important step in evolution.
Women are natural born illusionists. Much like a chameleon uses camouflage as its number one defense to ensure its survival, women also use camouflaging techniques to ensure their success rate in finding a good penis. But when the makeup has smudged onto the pillow, hair extensions yanked out, and the orangey Oopa loopa pumpkin fake spray tan has streaked onto a gent’s bed sheets, a dude is left wondering what the hell he actually went to bed with.
Sociocultural standards of feminine beauty are presented in almost all forms of popular media, barraging women with images that portray what is considered to be the “ideal body.” Before social networks, we mostly had images of impossibly perfect celebrities and skinny mini fashion models. Now we have online dating, Twitter/ Twatter, Facebook and other forms of social media. An overabundance of studies conclude the more women are exposed to “selfies” and other photos on social media, the more they compare themselves negatively. Even employers searching through online employment databases may make snap judgments about whether to interview you or not based on your facial appearance or your height and weight.
Approximately 91% of women are unhappy with their bodies and resort to dieting to achieve their ideal body shape. Unfortunately, only 5% of women naturally possess the body type often portrayed by Americans in the media. So knowing that little factoid we really need to get over ourselves. Ladies even if you have gained a few pounds you have just opened yourself up to a whole new genre of men: Black guys, Rednecks, dudes from Lodi and my Uncle Lenny.
There are lots of things most people think of as sexy, so the sheer number of things we could find sexy are truly unfathomable. No one definitive thing that amounts to sexy in the eyes of everyone, or even at all times. Real sexiness is subjective. It is so subjective, so whimsical, so dependent on a particular confluence of experiences, images, and cultural conditioning, to say nothing of circumstance, that no one notion of sexiness is quite going to get it.
The great seductresses in history knew that it isn’t just about trying to look sexy or pretty; it’s an art and one becomes skillful in it when she realizes that there are all these conflicting elements that all come together to make something magical. And don’t we all agree a person is most sexy when they feel sexy?
I think the times I feel most sexy is when I’m wearing a yummy pair of heels. I have been told on more than one occasion that pairing my legs with a my savvy shoe styling, makes me a walking erection. What can I say? I have great gams. Anything I lack in outward sexiness, I more than make up for in personality. Hey don’t knock it. Personality ain’t just for fat peeps anymore.
I believe modern laws of attraction dictate that opposites attract, but in my case, I’m most attracted to that which I see in myself… a quirky sense of humor. I used to be a sucker for the bad boy, complete with perma-scowl, ink soiled tear drop tat bod, and a rap sheet as long as his dick. But thankfully the paradigm of what I now view as sexy has shifted over the years. A man with a witty sense of humor trumps a man with a chiseled face and toned abs any day.
Sexy comes in all sizes, colors and flavors. All told I am learning to be happy with what God gave me. Drinking a lot helps that happy part. I don’t buy into the need to modify my bod to meet some impossible perfection standard. That isn’t to say I am not willing to shed a few pounds for my Love Mutten. I think I will feel sexier in my corset when it doesn’t look like a package of crescent rolls bursting out. So starting this weekend: THE YETI COCK DIET. A few weeks on this diet I assume I’ll lose about 10 lbs. Since it’s hard to put food in my mouth when you have an enormous peen in there.
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That’s the spirit. Twerk it out snooks. Twerk it out.