Monday

Natural Selection And The Clitaurus

49 comments
I've been waiting all night for Jimmy Kimmel Live to see my girl crush Nicki Minaj get interviewed while I drink a cosmopolitan with Bruno. This afternoon I finished reading Water for Elephants and it was tres magnifique but then I got bored and wasn't sure what to do for the next four hours so I decided to draw this picture for Jack who loves sharks and promised to buy a t-shirt of this masterpiece if I made it in time for Christmas (you're welcome).
I'm not really good at promoting my store so I guess please buy something and keep me off the streets? That sort of sounds like I'm a prostitute but it doesn't matter because everyone thinks my blog is porn anyway. Actually, I would pee my pants if you'd purchase a Clitaurus shirt for your grandma because undoubtedly she'll be the talk of bingo and then for sure I'll be on my way to famosity...
You can buy all the Clitaurus your heart desires here.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Nicki Minaj and a cosmopolitan are waiting for me on my couch and there's no way I can ever deny them so off I go for now.

p.s. Corey, this is post #2 of your "Forty-Nine Posts of Christmas." I'm getting there slowly but seriously can we extend this whole thing until Easter? Forty-nine posts in a month is too much and there's only so many pictures of pumpkin pie I can post before everyone unfollows me.

Update: I told my friend John the natural selection t-shirt was up.

John: Why did you draw Jesus' fish?

Me: Huh?

John: Those are Jesus' fish, babe. The Darwin fish have feet.

Me: Holy shit, I made Jesus fishies getting eaten by a shark?

John: Yup.

Me: ... Guess I'm really going to hell now.

Update Part II: I obviously do need sleep as I forgot the entire point of this post last night (it wasn't just blatant self-whoring and promotion, I promise. I'm doing a Christmas Clitaurus giveaway. So pop your name in the comment section and I'll pick the winner before December 15th. Please only enter if you have the balls, or um, clitaurus, to actually rock out the t-shirt.


Sunday

del.i.cious.

33 comments
I found this picture of my buddy Ozzie and I from Wednesday's party as I was trying to upload for Penelope who's been hounding me like a dog in heat to email them her way. I'd just like to point out that a) I still don't recognize myself with bangs and am considering growing them back out, b) I am making a duck face and it's not even on purpose because I was housed and c) I spilled tons of gravy on that beautiful leather dress and I didn't even eat at the party. TRAGEDY.

Also, this is what the turkey looked like when I went to go try it the next morning.
I have to be honest... I've written about five posts since Wednesday but haven't been able to bring myself to publish them as I've been incredibly keen on the fact they've sucked. It's 1:00 a.m. here in the furnace that is Miami and I've been working all weekend at the airport serving vodka to strangers. I'm allowed to drink with the customers if I damn well please but ever since Wednesday night the thought of liquor makes me woozy.

Irony... What a bitch.

I might as well come out and warn you that the month of December may be irregular as far as my posting is concerned. You guys know the deal so it really doesn't bear repeating but I'll say it anyway: Famosity is still the number one priority and I love you more than strawberry caipirinhas after a night of acrobatic sex. The thing is, two people I care deeply about have asked me to go on vacation and although I'm still considering it there's a possibility I may spend some time away from this town. This means I'll be torn away from the internet and computers and blogging and you, my precious. I'm also turning twenty-eight in December and it's inevitable I will party until my eyes bleed vodka and my pores seep champagne but don't worry, this is normal.

Then of course we have Christmas and although my parents and I don't really celebrate in the traditional manner, we do eat way too much pork and other Cuban food that leaves me in a coma induced state for days on end. I've been having a recurring dream where I'm slipping on a moving bus and it's raining all around me and there's massive gold coins which I keep trying to pick up but as soon as I stuff them in my pockets my pants fall off and I'm naked. Then a massive snake appears and it starts to swallow me but instead of feeling scared I'm delighted and you'll never believe what happens after... It's too embarrassing to tell.

This drivel is precisely what the other five posts were like only they talked about filet mignon and mom haircuts (why do women over thirty insist on giving themselves these after bearing children?). All I know is if we could get through December in one piece then I assure you we'll come out on top and everyone knows how much fun being on top really is.

You know what's awesome?
I'm going to go eat some now and pretend this post never happened.


Thursday

I Failed You

27 comments
Yesterday I wrote this beautiful post about all the things we should be grateful for and it was melancholic and sweet and it flowed right and I wanted to have sex with myself afterwards but guess what? I just woke up.
Yes...

It's almost midnight and this is when I wake from a nap that was intended to be twenty minutes but turned into hours on my parents' couch.

Last night I had my usual pre-Thanksgiving dinner party and I can say with all honesty it was a smash. My friend had sex with an eighteen year old, a heart was broken, someone got arrested and went to jail, five bottles of vodka were inhaled, and I said grace and wished everyone lots of sex in the coming year (totally essential).

Twelve months ago the two people I love the most in this world were hitting a rough patch that left me empty and bereft of all human emotion. This year God proved that sometimes -if you voice your opinions- you can truly work anything out as long as there's sincerity behind your intent.

I hope you had a lovely Thanksgiving. My parents and I baked a turkey and slept while it baked. When the buzzer went off around seven we decided turkey sucks and instead ate cake on the couch.

I think the stars truly aligned in my favor.

I know... I'm grateful.

Tuesday

Dannah Monthly: Like Your Menstrual Cycle, But Nastier.

51 comments
For the record, Dan came up with our monthly post's name so if you're already put off by the title then I'm warning you for your own sake, stop reading.

This is what writing posts with Dan is like.
For today's section I collected a few subjects that came up in conversation with friends and shot them Dan's way, asking him to elaborate on his thoughts to which I later replied with my own. I also asked him to pick the final point because we all know men enjoy feeling like they're in charge and I'm nice enough to let him (feel being the operative word).

So without further beating around the bushes, I'm ready and red & Dan's ready and blue.

The "You've-Never-Had-It-Done-Right" Complex
I wonder why it is that when I disclose I'm not really into cunnilingus, all guys respond with the That's because you've never had it done right line? Why can't they just accept that I don't like it? That I'd much rather be getting a manicure or drinking a mimosa with girlfriends. Instead of spending so much time proving themselves doing something I don't enjoy, how about perfecting the art of doing the things I do, subsequently reeling me in with their mastery of learning new skills?

I'm aware that everyone is different. I have a friend who gets off from seeing her boyfriend masturbate in the shower while another likes hers to dress as a football player and make love to her wearing cleats. I personally prefer a good S&M session with a few bite and claw marks. After all, isn't that one of the pros of being an adult? Knowing what gets you off and what doesn't? Why is it then, that if I request a certain style of lovemaking the man is intent on laying his focus on going down on me when I've said over and over I don't enjoy it. Please, shed light. Oh and before I forget, it's the same guy who tells me I've never had it done right who's quick to agree I just don't like it once he tries and tries and I'm still not into it. Just sayin'.

My instinct says that you’ve never had it done right...and you know what? I’ve always been taught to go with my instincts. I personally don’t give a shit how many times you hated it in the past. If done right you will like it. It’s science. Woman has clitaurus, guy has tongue, what’s the fucking problem? Oh yeah, I think "clitaurus" is appropriate because that body part is a beast of its own. Anyway I’ll tell you what the problem is: comfortability. Not easy to have a mouth on your vadge unless you trust the guy - at least for some girls. Some ladies need everything to be right, while some can do it right in the back of a Jeep Cherokee.

By denying this attempt at pleasure, you're basically saying the dude is going to suck. But you can’t judge after one go-round...we need a few reps before we can get it down.We need to become friends with the vagina. A new vagina is like a new car: You know the basics, but each car has stuff in weird places. So you, a female, is gonna be like, “Oh I’d rather talk about Christian Louboutin than get my pussy eaten” instead of train a dude to hit sixth gear on your vadge? Have fun kissing I guess.

Don't get me wrong, kissing’s fun and it seems that ladies get into it more if a guy is a good kisser. Actually a girl told me she once orgasmed from kissing, but then again she also told me that she got pregnant while on birth control after having sex with a dude who was wearing a condom…so I don’t fuckin’ know. And yes, I had to look up Christian Louboutin.

The Lost Art of Teasing
As an adult I've often wondered whatever happened to the days when people would actually wait to have sex. And by this of course I don't mean not having sex before marriage, but instead the art of foreplay (real foreplay). When did it become acceptable to jump on each other every single time two people sleep together or, worse off, performing a methodical chain of steps before doing the nasty (kiss for five minutes, fellatio and cunnilingus for another ten, then sex). No one teases anymore and I want to know... Why the fuck not?

Whether it's rubbing or massaging or licking or whatever it is that turns your partner on before actually getting it on. The pulling away, the I-know-you-want-it-but-I'm-not-gonna-give-it-to-you-yet, the handcuffing or blindfolding, the breathing onto certain body parts without really touching, ehrm... Let me stop before I run off with myself and leave this post half-finished.

But seriously... A few months ago when I was still celibate I was seeing someone and he performed this game of breathing/kissing on my back where he'd brush his lips then pull away and breath. He knew I wasn't going to do anything that would lead to sex so instead he just teased with his mouth/lips until I almost exploded on my headboard all the while wondering, Why do people not do this more often?! Hotness.

If dudes tease women they’ll do a better job returning the favor. And dudes - there's nothing better than a woman who can return the favor. Seriously...thank you ladies. It's important to be grateful for the little things in life, but then again I don't consider blowjobs to be a "little thing"...they're pretty fucking clutch.

And because we love sexual activity so much, it's difficult for us to tease a female. We just want to go in and not come out until it's time to come in. Wow that sounds gross. Uh...we just want to make sweet love to our beautiful woman because we can't take not being pressed up against her any longer. Yeah.

Massages are key and if you can get a girl to actually enjoy it...achem...you should go downtown for a little while. A lot of times when people have sex, it seems that foreplay is no longer as prevalent. People just get drunk and bang because they’re horny and that’s that. When a guy teases a girl, he has her wanting it… ...waiting... …hoping... …because he’s the fucking man. He’s making her want him more than anything at the moment, yet the art of teasing is to make her think she has it, and right when you think she's about to explode... ....wait just a little longer.

Then boom: Weiner time.

The "Red Means Go" Sex
I've never actually been put off by doing the deed while menstruating but it seems a lot of my friends are vehemently opposed to such "practices." Most of them ewwwww and yuccckkkkk when I bring it up and I'm thinking either a) they're putting on a show for each other even though they really like it or b) I'm a sick fuck. Either way I really don't care because when you're menstruating there's just something animal about the whole thing which magnifies every emotion times 1000. Am I wrong? I've never had anyone flat out be opposed to it. Which once again says either the people I've danced the horizontal mambo with are totally open minded, or freaks of nature. Okay, I'll stop now.

Technology's won another battle in my life. They have this thing called the "Instead" - I'm sure you ladies are aware of it. For those that don't know it's this device that cups the blood so it stays in this little compartment while you bone. So as long as I'm not getting down on days 1 or sometimes-2, things are rather clean for my weiner. It's like a burglar went through a house without leaving a fingerprint, except in this case the burglar has permission.

I used to be different with that stuff. You see the thing is, I've had different experiences than most men when it comes to periods. I've witnessed things that no man should ever witness. I've played a game of "Go Fish" that you did not play with your grandmother growing up...let's leave it at that.

Therefore, I didn't ever want to be near it. If a girl I was making sticky with was facing that time of the month, I thought to myself that I'd rather swim in the Dead Sea than the Red Sea. No sex for me. And yes Annah, we expect blowjobs. It's just how it is. Like how we're supposed to be nice to you when you're pregnant, you're supposed to give us blow jays while you're Raggedy Ann(ah). Are you gonna get mad at me if I call you that? It just occurred to me that I really don't know you that well. Are you on your period right now? Shit.

I wasn't aware of this new "technology." Hmmmm. Towels or showers work just as well.

Does This Even Need A Title?
I was on the phone with my friend the other day and I seriously have no idea how the subject came up but it did: Urinating on people as foreplay. He was completely disgusted by the fact that some are turned on by it (or possibly acting that way to see what my reply was). I, on the other hand, don't really see why anyone would be turned on by it (cough, cough, R. Kelly) but can't really be judgmental about something so innocuous. Frankly as far as sex is concerned I feel nothing is odd as long as you're not physically hurting anyone else (unless they asked for it) or doing things with a minor (that's just fucking wrong). So with that said, I wouldn't allow anyone to urinate (or defecate for that matter) on me, but wasn't opposed to doing so on someone when they so kindly asked me a few years back.

I got mentally prepared and drank like a gallon of water and finally climbed on him and tried... and tried... and closed my eyes... and thought of waterfalls... and tried some more, but it just didn't happen. Our relationship dissolved soon after that and as non-judgmental as I considered myself I wondered if it had anything to do with that odd incident.

In a nutshell, this is how I feel about all of this.
 
 
Somehow the topic of pissing on a chick has come up. Annah, do you wanna get pissed on? Because I'll totally piss on a chick if she wants me to. I know the word 'totally' implies that I want to do it, but I'm honestly indifferent. If she's into it I'll do it, if she's not, I'll live. That also implies that I've done it before. I have not. As for shit? That's a different story. Not down with the doodie.

After going to college I heard some nasty stories about people. My sister's roommate let a dude pee on her on the regular, and she even tasted doodie once. My cousin knew a guy who was a victim of a girl who spiked his drink...with a laxative. Yeah, she wasn't trying to get him drunk - she wanted him to shit himself because it was an aphrodisiac for her. Could you imagine shitting yourself in a bed while your partner sexily rubs it on herself? Wait...can you "sexily" rub shit on yourself? Probably not. Sorry I asked.

Fakers
Annah told me I had to come up with a fifth one. For those of you who haven't been fortunate enough to hear her sexy Cuban accent, it's one that makes you want to listen. As I type this I'm unaware of what our next subject will be - maybe it should be something not as sexual, but unfortunately my mind isn't working that way at the moment. Right now I'm thinking about faking orgasms. Fuckin' bitches man.

I faked it once...I wanted to see if I could do it. It wasn't worth it. I don't think chicks get blue balls, but that's another story. Blue vagina? Not like the way we get it, that's for sure. You know how when you ran you've gotten one of those side cramps? That happens to our balls. Our sensitive, baby-producing testes.

But obviously, dudes rarely fake orgasms. Why would we? I just wanted to prove a point to her that it's not difficult to pretend like something's better than it is. I learned a lot from that experience, and it's something I've learned time and time again: Always be grateful for good sex. If you're in a position where you feel the need to consistently fake it, you're not tricking anyone but yourself.

I think most girls who say they've never faked an orgasm are liars or super heroes. I can say with conviction and no shame whatsoever that I've faked quite a few in my lifetime. Now before you go judging me you have to understand sometimes us women fake it for the sake of the guy. There are two sides to every story just as there are two sides to every faker. Some fake it because they're bored and want to "get it over with", while others fake it because they can't orgasm and don't feel comfortable in sharing this with their partner. I mainly fake because the guy isn't turning me on (or because I'm really sleepy and want him to finish already!). It's much easier to throw in a few screams and back scratches with heavy breathing and call it a day, then it is to say, "Papi, I'm tired... Can you finish already?" and have to endure the weird looks from your lover.

With that said, if the guy you're with is considerate and sexy and good with his hands and adept at pleasing and following directions, there's no reason to fake anything.

If you don't believe me, then ask my Clitaurus.

Sunday

My Liver Is A Wonderland

44 comments
Hi guys!

This weekend my friend ________ used my spare bedroom to do the nasty with a guy she met at a club and I was left to babysit his somewhat famous reggaeton singer friend who tried to have sex with me but failed miserably because I'm a snob who thinks all men she meets at clubs are serial killers. I also fell and twisted my ankle wearing six inch heels, caught a cold, rarely slept, almost got into a fist fight with a midget and drank ten buckets of margarita.

Below is an adequate description of my liver over the course of the weekend.
 
 
 
Good news! I'm alive. Bad news? I'm almost dead.

I'll be back after a two day nap and I'm bringing Dan from Head of the Danaconda with me. Next post is disgusting just like him so get your wine ready and XXX glasses on.

Wednesday

How To Successfully Scar Your Child For Life

73 comments
Sometimes people insist on regaling you with stories about their kids you really don't want to hear.

True story.