I was once told that I did not give adequate blow jobs. This infuriated me, just the fact that I am putting your dirty little pee hole in my mouth at all should be enough right? He then proceeded to show me some porn videos that he liked as tips. I remember studying the technique, how they ran their fingers down the shaft, keeping pressure on the base, not just focusing on one part but all of it. All of these movies have the same ending, a girl covered in mangasm. Gross.

My blow job skills are subjective, another dude I hooked up with told me I was the best he ever had (but maybe he tells that to everyone) and he still fantasizes about me. The best art is getting it over my pretty-little-innocent-porcelin- face. Right? Thats like the goal isn’t it? Gross!

People get really turned on by my phone sex operator voice and lush red laquored mouth. Im not always total freak in bed, she exists only lost in a fleeting moment or lost in love. Let go and be crazy. I don’t know if I have ever really had an orgasm or been in love. Or if I had then it didn’t change my life like a fairytale.

The way people write about and describe orgasms and love I would think that you would know if you had it. I just don’t. I have such high expectations for things that sometimes its impossible for all of them to come true.

It’s the same with my shows and art, but with those things it is almost easier because it is so on a stage and public. I can have flaws and they are celebrated. People enjoy the fact that I am funny and imperfect, they can relate to me. Fake it till you make it.

I can never complain about lack of sex l, I know I can get it whenever I want, its just a matter of wanting. I yearn for substance, not talking money or stuff, but compatibility in ways that nobody else understands.

My problem with relationships is that I always move too fast, and I am not immediately good at things. I need to practice being with this person, learn what they like, what makes them purr. That can’t happen in one night.

It is possible to have instant attraction, electric turn on lust rush. That’s what songs are written about, but every time that has happened to me it was fueled by an alcohol/ drug/ vacation induced confidence.

I was the most charming woman ever. They didn’t see my flaws yet, they saw what I wanted to show them, they never knew about my dandruff or wonky toenails. I know what to cover up and what to expose to make me seem perfect and sexy.
starfish sex

Am I a starfish? Do I just sit there and let them take me? I don’t think so… I enjoy switching it up. I wonder when people decide not to become repeat offenders? Now unfuckable?

I wish the end of every relationship or even one night stand could have a proper autopsy. I would like to learn about what went so wrong and know how to get better. Having bad sex is the absolute worst, you should never be sitting there waiting for it to end, that means you are doing it wrong.

I need to feel invited to join in. I was recently in a situation where three people started having sex in the same bed as me. For some reason I did not really participate, I didn’t leave either. I just watched, front row seat. Studied the way they touched each other, listened to the noises, basically being a real creep.

For some reason I just didn’t feel compelled to join in, they were all incredibly attractive humans doing hot stuff to each other, it was like live action porn, what is wrong with me? I am thrust into opportunities that I need to grab on to. I needed to just lick some nipples, kiss some lips, and caress.

I think about the moments that I let pass by. Moments where I wanted someone but didn’t tell them. Fear kept me planted. It rooted me as a bystander in my own reality. I wonder if it’s a defense mechanism. I suck at making the move and therefore should not go after people who are just like me.

It doesn’t make sense to me when I find someone who is perfect, really gets me and makes me laugh. This person keeps on living, going on just fine without me there, eating, pooping, and creating art with someone else.

Everyone I have thought I loved thus far has been or become unrequited. What does she have that I don’t? Is her pussy tighter, skin softer, sounds sexier? Do you tie her up? Does she peg? Do her nipples squirt whiskey? I don’t get it.

I am the most amazing woman that nobody wants. I wish I could be more open about getting what I desire in this world. The problem is that I need to explore myself to find out what I like and don’t like. Being lousy at sex is due to poor communication and lack of confidence.

berriesJust because I didn’t end up being what all my ex lovers want doesn’t mean I am at all undesirable to someone I haven’t even met yet. Sex is more than just mating or getting off, its emotional, all encompassing. I have been with people who were ravenous for my body. Throw me up against the wall or down on the bed, then to the curb.

I don’t ever want to be owned.  Life is beautiful. I am sick of wasting time wanting the unattainable. I want to be able to love someone and be confident in that but still have freedom to access the world’s fruit. Who cares if I suck at sex? Practice makes perfect right.


“You were the only one who ever understood me”… NOT TODAY SATAN!

Digital media and texting has changed the whole dating game. Why have face to face conversations when it can all be summed up in an emotionless message?

I’ve fallen into that pussy category. It’s the worst, a cop out, easier than actually dealing with the person. Communication, confrontation, and rejection are all the scariest things. Have I learned anything from past mistakes or successes?

It’s even worse when you send a drunk text. Or worse yet when you write the novel of a text and then decide you’re crazy and go to abort but accidentally press send and fuck everything up.

I have never been very good about remaining friends with past lovers. It’s not that I even have a lot of negativity towards these people, it just doesn’t work out. Life happens and there isn’t room for everyone in it.

Once you are naked-legs intwined-deepest darkest secrets intimate with another human it is very difficult to go back to just being friends in passing. I cannot level down without years of getting over it.

How do ex lovers know when you are either about to move on or at your most vulnerable? They always have the most impeccable timing ever, it must be a spider sense tingle that goes off in their brain.

I was pretty much having a mental breakdown the other day and out of the blue my longest relationship ever ex and most recent person that I needed to cut out both texted me simultaneously. It was ridiculous, a scene from a bad romantic comedy.

satanIs he contacting me because he misses me or if his relationship ended, is he feeling vulnerable, reminiscing on a time that was better, a time that he clearly fucked up and is missing. Well that ship has sailed bro. He remembers how happy I made him, how incredible the sex was, and how in comparison I was way better of a choice.

It’s been over a year since last contact, at least three years since we broke up for the final time, maybe more, time flies when you are single. He never maintained communication with me, I must have not been that important . What happened to change his mind?

Can they sense when you are about to move on? There is a feeling of power that one has when they deny someone the upper hand? When you finally give up on the situation and move on to greener pastures its like they get a notice. Something inside them feels the grip loosen, the power is gone.

This has happened before, we had broken up, it was months later, he texted me out of the blue, I ended up over at his house, and of course we slept together. He went to work the next day and I was still asleep. When I woke up I noticed that the portrait I did of him was missing, I saw it leaning in is closet.

How appropriate, my heart and soul resting in his closet, when I paint someone that means I love them, I took it from its frame and wrote him a letter (aka the original text message) he will probably never read on the back and popped it back in the frame and put it back in the closet, it was very dramatic.

It basically said that this was not meant to be and that someday he will be with someone else, find this, and remember how amazing I was. He was the one who broke up with me for being unnaturally happy, like a cartoon character he said. I had no business falling for such a broken man, so flawed and addicted, yet so beautiful, so much like me, so different, smart, an incredible musician (I used to make art while he recorded his music), and a lover like no other. We first met at my art opening seven years ago, I was in my prime.
His ice breaker text was an inside joke. I said it once to someone I used to love, him. I’ve moved on. You had your chance. I have been single for several years now, I haven’t depended on anyone but myself for happiness. That last thing I need right now is to digress. Is this a test?

Maybe its Valentines Day? The worst holiday ever, where single folks are meant to feel crappy and those in relationships are expected to buy in.

I don’t want to fall for him again and go back to square one. Familiar doesn’t mean safe, fucking an ex may not be a new notch in the post but it still counts, there are always ramifications.

I answered him with something generic, made him wait for it too. A simple hope you are well. Sometimes there is just not enough time or space to get over the pain someone has put you through. Forgiveness must be earned.

I have a hard time with moving on, especially when I really want someone. I fall hard. He haunted my dreams and caused so much creative thought in me. I need to travel the world to find myself and new inspirations. I can’t just keep beating these dead horses.

It kills me to not be friends with him, with any of them, but I can’t. I always want more, it’s a terrible ache, an unjust lust. I need to say goodbye for now, farewell.

“Life is Short. Have an Affair.”

Ashley Madison, the world’s leading married dating service for discreet casual sexual encounters between married people, has been hacked and now the clients’ real names, usernames, addresses, emails, nude photos, sexually explicit chat logs, and list of deep dark sexual fantasies are being leaked. Over 37,890,000 anonymous members from the US and Canada are shitting their pants simultaneously.

You get what you deserve! This is a skeezy website that helps people cheat on their spouses. The hackers morally object to their business plan.

This data breech is a nail in the coffin for Avid Life Media, the parent of AshleyMadison.com, EstablishedMen.com, Cougarlife.com, and more. The company was planning on an IPO status. No banks would touch them now, not even with someone else’s dick. In 2009 the website tried to take cheating to the ultimate mainstream media outlet – The Super Bowl! The offer was rejected but the video still went viral on YouTube.

So far only two people have been revealed, a man from Brockton, Massachusetts and another person from Mississauga, Ontario.
The hackers have been identified as “The Impact Team.” They posted large amounts of data from the adultery site and claimed that users’ privacy and financial records have been comprised. The team is holding Ashley Madison in ransom and threatening to release all of their records if the site and Established Men are not taken offline in all forms. Established Men has been described as a prostitution and human trafficking website for rich men to pay for sexual encounters.

Ashley Madison offers a bullshit “full delete” feature for a $19 fee that actually pays for nothing. Full Delete made the site $1.7 million in revenue last year. Most people pay with credit cards and their information is not removed as advertised. The Impact Team offers no sympathy or remorse, “Too bad for those men. They’re cheating dirtbags and deserve no such discretion.”

Ashley Madison says that they are working feverishly to remove posts related to the incident. They also suggested that a former employee may have had a hand in the leak.

So much for that “Trusted Security Award!”

In my opinion it is probably someone’s jilted wife who is also a genius computer hacker. Her sweet, darling hubby most likely forgot to delete the cookies on their family computer and then all hell broke loose. But she didn’t want to just confront him, she wanted to go a step further and make sure it didn’t happen to any other woman. She wanted to tear down the sites that “caused” her husband’s infidelity. Well, at least she didn’t go Lorene Bobbitt on his ass and chop his dick off.

Cheaters are going to cheat not matter what. It’s a lot of why I don’t think marriage works. Humans get bored. We constantly need change and freshness to titillate and excite us. It’s only natural to want to sleep with other people. It’s crazy to commit to being with one person for the rest of your life. It’s like only eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches everyday for forever. Even if it’s your favourite food, you will grow sick of it and want to eat some chicken or a slice of pizza once in a while.

Although I think it’s natural to have urges and want to cheat, I do think cheating is wrong. I don’t think I will ever get married for that reason. If you commit to someone, don’t you dare be an asshole and break their heart. Be honest and upfront with your significant other. You will be surprised at how amazing honesty and open communication can be. If they don’t agree with your feelings then maybe a divorce is in order. But there is the other scenario – what if they feel the same way?


This can open up your marriage to a myriad of options! Sharing partners, having your own separate flings, swingers clubs, and more can all be yours if you have a clear set of healthy rules. It’s all about respect, love, attraction, and understanding.
I wonder if they have any sort of filter so people don’t accidentally match with their current spouse. This could be a “Do you like piña coladas?” moment.

People get trapped in webs of lies and have a skewed perspective of what a relationship or marriage “should be.” Marriage in the traditional white-picket-fence-2.5-kids form is outdated and overrated. Variety is the spice of life, so spice things up the right way!
The hacking of this website just proves to me even more that traditional marriage is a very flawed institution. There are millions of people pretending to be happy while leading a double life and it’s more than just Ashley Madison users too. Earlier this year a similar site called Adult Friend Finder was also hacked, threatening to reveal incriminating info and sexual preferences of their 3.5 million users. That hacker was in if primarily for the money, requesting $100,000. In the current case the hackers just want the sites shut down.

The company has not commented whether or not they will shut down the site. I guess only time will tell. I am personally looking forward to the simultaneous shitting of pants and the bitch slaps heard around the world when all of the slutty little details surface.

Featured image credits: blog.wtmresponsibletourism.com

I always read the Craigslist missed connections hoping that there is someone out there who wants lil Ol’me. Actually, who am I kidding, I’m on there for the same reason I like John Waters’ movies, it’s all about the filth and unsavory splendor.

Gotta keep check on the creepers of the world, the heavy breathers wearing trench coats in the corner masterfully master-bating sting quietly while you live your life in blissful ignorance.

M for F 30 Spot Coffee Delaware
Amazon woman with blonde and pink hair sitting alone at Spot Coffee reading The Ethical Slut wearing a black dress covered in cat hair. I saw you and the world stopped. I wish I would have said something. Reply with the sports team that was on the shirt I was wearing, hint it matches your ankle tattoo. I swear by your smile we must be soulmates. I want you to tie me up and put out cigarettes on my chest. Let’s go on a long walk into the sunset together. Then you can pee on me because I love you. You complete me.

Woof. That escalated quickly. Some connections are made to be missed. I’m happy to be single. I walk tall and proud, confident and free of the relationship bondage that ruins most humans and the sad yearning that ruins the rest.

cat sunglasses

I do not need you to complete me. There is nothing you can give me that I can’t earn myself. I prefer to roll solo without any unnecessary baggage. Single, young (well young enough), and bisexual. The world my oyster, and oysters are supposed to be the sexiest food because they subliminally remind people of slurping a vagina.

Currently I’m swimming in hot blondes. I don’t know what to do with a girl this hot. All American cheerleader sex kitten angel fell asleep on my boobs the other night, she told me it was like waking up and the dream was still going. I was so sweaty though and the worst horror movie with a guy in a bunny suit was playing and I couldn’t reach the remote. I would have watched it all night instead of making her move. I can’t even…

Drowning in sweet poon and all I want is you baby. There is a boy that I have feelings for and he knows. I respect that he doesn’t want to sleep with me but it doesn’t make things any easier. If he only knew we wanted the same things. Imagine the amount of girls we could pick up together? I can’t even…

cat montreal villageSo instead of choosing one I choose fun.

I remember my early twenties really well, I had just gotten out of a long term relationship with a guy who ended up being uber controlling. It was the beginning of my burlesque career and he told me it was him or burlesque. Well I’ve been doing burlesque for almost eight years now so I guess you can tell what my choice was. See ya later asshole. Remember it’s not love if someone tries to censor or control you! The things you do and love are infinite and important.

After we ended it, the weirdo dude even stowed away in my van and begged me to take him back. I eluded him and never looked back. He married the next girl he dated. Without burlesque that would have been me.

I’m not made to be a housewife and mother. I’m too selfish and messy. I’m an only child who never wants to grow up. Sure, I’ll make you a breakfast sandwich in the morning but then you must be on your way because I have shit to do that just doesn’t involve you.

Rid yourself of the notion that you need to find your soulmate to make yourself whole. You are already perfect, the only thing that will truly satisfy the yearning in your heart is exploring the unknown. There is so much wonder and beauty out there.

My life invokes adventure and passion. My journey involves being free. Life is a stage. My arms are outstretched and the wind caresses my exposed nakedness. I’m not a spinster old maid, I’m a modern woman who will not accept the status quo. I’m the king of the world. I am a lone wolf, hear me howl at the moon. Try it for yourself.

It’s easy to subscribe to having no regrets and living each day like you have terminal Cancer. You truly could get hit by a bus at any time. The YOLO generation wants to have their cake and eat yours too. Everything always, instant and constant satisfaction guaranteed. Kids raised by the Internet. Sometimes jumping in without considering the debt and consequences. Are they wrong?

The things you are reluctant to do the most are the ones that you need and love the most in the end. I know that I would feel better if I exercised more and cleaned my room. To be free of clutter and full of energy would be absolutely incredible. I need those things. Just like the tap shoes I have never learned to use, the hula hoop hanging on the wall, and the lil pink ukulele that I still can’t play.

These things that I want so badly but have not put in the necessary effort to achieve. My laziness absolutely disgusts me. It’s so privileged American, it’s so my generation, if its not easy it isn’t happening. Fucking stupid way to live. I’m sick of it.


I’ve always had one foot on the ground, protecting my heart at all costs. I know that I have loved, but none of them knew it. I never have said “I love you” to someone who I was with. Don’t really know if I’ve ever had an orgasm either, never really let go.

I am a pleasure delayer. Sometimes I just hold back because I know I can. Having control over my own success Keeping the things I love the closest only to push them away right before touchdown. Is the longing and lusting better than the touching and caressing ,the finishing?

Do the best things simply need more time to marinate? You must plant the seeds, nurture the strongest, then once the plant is mature… well, you fuck the plant.

Waiting for just the right moment can last a lifetime. The moment just might pass. I guess that means it wasn’t your moment. You missed your chance to kiss them and now they kiss another. Jumped on the train headed west never to look back for you. Love comes on slowly but can die instantly.

I have wanderlust and no passport. I talk about going on tour but have made no action to book gigs. The queen of professional procrastination.

I get desperately jealous when I see my friends conquering the world and seeing so much beauty. I know I have an incredible life, but there is so much more than I need to explore. I need to stop talking and just go! Get the fuck out of Dodge and put my mark somewhere new and exciting.

I want to buy a van, paint a mural on it ( I’m thinking Jim Kelly riding a unicorn), make it cat friendly, and go across the country. I need to soak it all in.

unicorn football van

The people I look up to the most are the ones who selfishly take everything they dream of. They jump blindly in the dark and end up with an epic win. I have spent too many nights working when I should be doing other things. I’ve had to say no to shows because I had to work and each time I died a little inside.

My passion put on hold. I once worked instead of going on a family vacation, that is one of the biggest regrets of my life. You have to prioritize, family, love, and true passion comes before work 100% of the time. I mean, of course you have to work, but don’t let that shit consume you.

Don’t dream it be it is tattooed on my body, I must embody that more than ever. I feel like once I just go the fear will melt away. I just have to get off my ass and take what I want. The world is an empty stage just waiting for me to jump on.

What excuses hold you back from getting and doing what you want? Fear? Money? I don’t want to wake up old and alone in the same city I was born in. The world is intimidating and also beautiful.

Sometimes you will fall, buts it’s ok. Imagine if I never did burlesque? Imagine if I never stepped foot on a plane? What if I was too scared to make art? Fear is crippling but not real.

When I was a little girl I used to jump off the swings in mid flight, now I’m terrified to do that. I picture my ankles snapping at impact. What changed inside of me? Older and wiser? Hardly. I’m just more of a pussy now.

While it is important to consider the consequences it’s not a be all end all. Yes you might fail and fall, but you might succeed and soar too! You don’t know if you don’t try. If you never leave your comfort zone you aren’t really living life. Small failures can yield success. I would have never met all the incredible people in my life if I didn’t try new things and open myself up to new experiences.

That first step is always a bitch but once you go for it everything else falls into place. We never entirely know what’s going to happen, just gotta do our best and learn for every failure and success. Be the change. Make shit happen. Let’s go.

It all starts here. I was a little six year old blonde girl, I had a dog and a dream. Then I saw Batman Returns and stuff changed.

Remember Michelle Pfeiffer as Cat Woman? Awee Yeaaaa, I know you do, that image is in everyone’s spank bank. That sleek, shiny vinyl/leather suit. Those razor sharp claws, snapping whip and acrobatic backflips. That perfectly mysterious mask. Those red lips, milky white skin, and that sultry voice really left an effect on me. You can say I had cat scratch fever.

I mean don’t get me wrong, Eartha Kitt was amazing and Halle Barry is hot, but nobody holds a candle to Michelle Pfeiffer in that role. She was, by far, the hottest woman I had ever seen. I wanted to be just like her. Even when she went nuts and got all evil, she made being a crazy cat lady look so damn sexy.

I only wanted one cat, as a sign of my independence and to prove to myself that I could take care of something other than myself. Ziggy Cropdust Sinclair-McCarthy, my Maine coon main man, aka Mr. Fluffy Pants, fell into my life and I loved him instantly and forever.

Fate then threw two little black kittens under my porch and into my heart. After helping nurse them back to health, Beau and Lola are now also my children. My mother lovingly refers to them all as her grandkittens. I’m happy she finally approves of my lifestyle choice.

cats cats

Today I live in a six cat household (three are my roommates’ cats). It’s wonderful. The pitter patter of little paws doing laps around the house, then deviously knocking shit over when you are trying to sleep and wrestling like assholes.

The little sweet fur babies make my world feel better. They know when I’m sad and love me regardless of my flaws. They climb all over me and knead my fleshy dough.

They don’t ask for much, just some snuggles, food, toys, a clean place to poop , and the occasional belly rub. That’s really all I require in a relationship too, that’s why we get along so well.

I love the feeling of a bed full of purring felines. If you close your eyes you can imagine laying on a vibrating heart shaped bed in a tacky motel room. However it’s a little hard to bring someone home to that.

cat as a catWell, for starters, if you want to sleep with me you absolutely cannot be allergic to cats. You also have to be an exhibitionist of sorts because chances are one or more of them will be watching us like a creep, lingering in the shadows.

If I do by chance wrangle them out they will be scratching to get in instantly making my heart melt, ruining any chances of continued intimacy. I usually don’t have any issues though.

Cats also inspire my art. One of my very first burlesque numbers was as cat woman to Janet Jackson’s Black Cat. My Kitty Porn series, collages of cat heads on porno bodies, has been a theme of my work for the last year.

There’s a reason why the ancient Egyptians worshipped them and they are the most Instagramed pet on the internet. Cats are just plain wonderful.

I am a crazy Cat Woman, hear me roar!

* Top illustration by Amy Duengfelder

As of late, a series of unrelated events have brought me to think about second chances. To give, or not to give?

Clearly, you don’t go looking for happiness in the same place you lost it. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results (Albert Einstein). I mean, fool me once…

I want to be the bigger person. I want to believe in the good of others. But simply put, there are people for whom I would never ever (cue Taylor Swift) consider giving another chance to. My stalker sociopathic ex is a prime example of this. The one labelled as “The Asshole” in my phone and possibly a future topic of this column.

It’s a shame to say, but the core of certain someones will never truly change, let alone improve. And soon as you accept this reality, hesitation is easy to chuck and not looking back is just as easily done than said. Sayo-fucking-nara.

However, life ain’t a one-size-fits-all deal and the same principles don’t always apply to every situation. Relationships are, within themselves, an amalgamation of nuances in contexts and histories. As such, there are glitches in the matrix of Never Agains. Some people can indeed change for the better.

I, for one, was a handful back in my youth. I could’ve turned into another statistic. But I pulled my shit together, with time and accrued wisdom (and a couple of prayers from a concerned father). Today, I can look at myself in the mirror and honestly say, “Hell yeah, I’d totally be friends with me.”

Acknowledging our own self-betterment means we can’t ignore the possibility of it occurring for others as well. There are some instances in which you shouldn’t write off someone’s integrity permanently. We need to weight all the variables; give credit where credit is due. But how do we differentiate the exceptions to the rule amongst a bag of bad apples?

As everything else in life, little is truly black and white. It usually requires several trials and errors before having a sure-fire answer. Which is why some people come back knocking, and others are willing to open the door to them again.

We can also find ourselves in states of perpetually holding the door ajar. We like to keep our options open, regardless of whether we need them to be. Let’s admit it: we’re greedy assholes sometimes.

Second chances. You can say yes, maybe to banish the what ifs. Or you can say no, as the responsible choice or maybe as to diffuse the responsibility in case round two fucks up.

So how do you handle a blast from the past with a second (chance) agenda? Same you would an old pair of socks.

We all end up with that ONE pair of socks that never stays together, amirite? Always one missing. And what do you do? You keep the loyal one aside until the other one shows up, of course. Stick it in some dark corner of your underwear drawer. It’ll turn up eventually, probably in the next load of laundry.

And you forget about it for a while until, one day, you finally stumble upon that missing other half. The pair can be reunited at last! But wait. Now you can’t seem to locate the other one, the OG that stayed behind. Ye faithful is no longer where you thought you last left it.

Two lovers that constantly have bad timing; always ending up at the right place, just never at the same time.

After consolidating the factors behind the relationship that wasn’t meant to be the first time around, is a second chance truly viable? It’s certainly possible to let go of negativity and gravitate toward a more positive dynamic, but you can’t un-know every single intertwining thought and reservation you’ve ended up establishing about the never-before-succeeded relationship.

Unlike dirty garments, you can’t wash people clean of their shortcomings at the push of a button. It takes times, words, and the actions that back up these words, to prove that things have indeed changed (and for the better).

And after washing those socks, will they feel just as good as you last remember slipping them on? Fabric softener can only do so much. Maybe you’ll find you’ve outgrown them.

I would imagine that chemistry between two people changes on some level. Physically, emotionally, or a bit of both. Even if chemistry is present, how are you certain it’s built on true desire and not simply on familiarity?

Nobody fixes the holes in their socks anyways. Easier to just toss em’ and go to Simons to buy new ones. It’s the age-old Tupperware conundrum: we measure the benefits of tossing over the cost of replacement.

At the end of the day, should someone deserve a second chance, it should be within the context where he or she takes initiative in coming forth to make things right, and not where you have to run after them offering the option of a do-over. You don’t need to give them a map; they should already know where to go.

That said, if you’re in a situation where we’re talking about 3rd, 4th or 5th chances… Bro, I can’t help you there. But you need to start helping yourself a little better.

In light of the New Year, I started to think about the appeal of a blank slate, of starting over. Having something new and fresh to look forward to. You count down from ten, and reset the clock. Maybe even throw in a little confetti. No headaches. Wave bye-bye to last year – it’s so 2014 anyway.

Saying goodbye to expired relationships, however… Not so blissfully clean-cut. Nope. Those are more like the streaks of shit left behind, which you can never seem to wipe off completely. “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” was basically a documentary.

My dad always told me, “Jules, men are like jobs. You don’t leave one until you find another.” (FYI: badass parenting wisdom). But – I must admit – coming from a thrice-married man, this might not have been the soundest of advice. Still, it’s a concept we appropriate to a lot of other scenarios, every day, sans qualms.

Think about it.

If you need to upgrade your car, you don’t just sell your rusty clunker without finding a replacement first. It wouldn’t be practical, right?

And we always have to have a plan B. Restaurants, college alternatives, backup Saturday night plans (in case your TiVo pulls some diva sass on your ass, and you need to put on something else than sweatpants).

It’s a defense mechanism thing. We like to expect the unexpected. Surprises aren’t always good surprises – unless they’re jumping out of a cake.

What’s messed up, though, is how you’re perceived if things don’t workout, and your emotional balance dares to falter for a second. Society holds you accountable for not being better equipped at facing the unpredicted ‘what ifs’ that have smacked you in the face. Because putting all your eggs in one basket is a ludicrous thing. Tsk tsk.

Optimism is dead. No wonder we live in a world of prenups and trust issues.


And as a result, we’ve perfected the art of coping mechanisms when it comes to love and other hot messes, which is why you don’t ever really get over someone until you find someone new.

Now, now, hakuna your tatas everyone, because this isn’t meant to argue with how we need to be happy by ourselves before sharing our life with another, or similar self-empowerment hoopla of sorts. Because I agree with this notion, 100%.

What I’m talking about here is not in regards to the actual letting go, but in regards to points of reference your donzo relationship still provides in the aftermath.

You see, mourning a relationship (or an idea of a relationship) is a two-part deal: letting go of the entity that you (thought) was so important, and adjusting to your reality 2.0. It’s pretty much a face fuck-full of emotions. And I mean this literally because, believe me, nobody cries pretty.

Thing is, no matter how much time has passed, no matter how many arts and crafts classes you sign up to, or how many holes you burn through your credit card with shopping sprees every second Sunday…

Repeat after me:
You never get over someone until you find someone new.

Last date? That jerk.
Last fancy dinner? Ugh, right.
Last person you swapped spit with? You guessed it.

No matter how amazeballs your life is, or how comfortable you are with being a dinner-for-one, your last special someone will remain your last reference for all romantic contexts. Until you find a new replacement piece. Fact.

And there’s no shame in that. It’s perfectly normal.

What I’m trying to say is: we can’t judge anyone on the time it takes for him or her to move on. And we need to cut ourselves some slack too, for that matter. Sometimes, one just needs to jump right into a get-laid-parade to break the ice for themselves and their newfound singlehood. Other times, it takes a little longer to experience butterflies again, even if just dick butterflies for a night.

All in all, take your time. Everyone is entitled to his or her own process.

Unless you’re hitting expert-level “sad single,” where your cat is eating your Michelina’s sad-ghetti leftovers by the side of your bed. In which case: get up, shower off and go kiss a stranger. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.

‘Tis the seasons of breakups, everyone! Holidays are approaching, and the pressure’s on. It’s now or never, folks.

Hey – it’s never fun to be the bearer of bad news. Preparing to give the pink slip to your girlfriend or boyfriend can be a stressful thing. But you gotta do what you gotta do.

Still, too often I hear of less than tactful breakups. And man, I’ve been there.

So far, my biggest heartbreak happened with a come-to-life Seth Cohen; preppy, great taste in music, and an inherent neuroticism not even Modest Mouse could sooth. We dated for less than a year, but it was serious enough. Or so I thought, until I got slapped in the face by the bitch that is unrequited love.

No doubt, being dumped sucks, no matter how it’s done. But a sprinkle of common fucking decency when parting ways is better for all parties involved. And I’m here to help.

If you want to avoid being known as an epic douche canoe for the rest of your life, here are 6 rules to follow:

Rule #1: Timing is everything.

There’s never good timing to break someone’s heart. There is, however, such a thing as ‘least worst’ timing.

Don’t put off the inevitable, but (in some cases) a day or two can make a difference for your partner. You’re about to take a massive shit on their hearts, so not letting it ricochet onto other aspects of their lives is the least you can do.

My neurotic Seth decided to do the deed right after picking me up from the library where I was studying for my exams. Sure, I got over it a few months later, but it’s a different story for my GPA. Guy could’ve waited 12 hours for my finals to be over.

Rule #2: Forget about your feelings.

One thing I observed, as I was being broken up with, was the oblivious selfishness that came from ‘the explanation.’ I got the full A to Z, a whole spiel of How, When, What, Whys. Dude kept going on and on and oh my god just shoot me now. I was dragged through the mud of his never ending justifications because he was unconsciously seeking my O.K.

Look, no one likes to feel like the bad guy. But we can’t always be the hero of every scenario. And it’s not your ex’s job to sooth your ‘I’m sowwies’.

Rule #3: Don’t trust anything they say.

If the wound is still fresh, anything from your ex’s mouth that seems remotely mature is not to be trusted. That person is a wounded animal; they’re in survival mode, for fuck’s sake! Lying, bargaining and denial are cards that will be played.

“I’m fine if we sleep together one last time!” is an obvious one.

Basically, anything that completes the sentence: “You and I can [enter any kind of continued interaction] because I’m being an adult about this” is a trap.

Yes, they will get over your lame-ass, but for now you can flatter yourself enough to know that today is not that day, so respect that (even if they can’t).

Rule #4: Don’t try to make them feel better.

Cringe-worthy breakup moments always ensue when you don’t follow this rule. If you just made someone cry, you are not the best fit to make that person feel better.

“I’m still very attracted to you.”
Read: I don’t want to marry you, but I’d still fuck you.

From the guy I thought I’d have babies with. Yo, thanks a lot.

I wanted to punch him in the throat. Maybe it would’ve helped dislodge the foot in his mouth.

Anyways, you get my drift. No matter how good it sounds in your head – don’t.

Rule #5: Don’t say you’ll stay in touch.

“Don’t worry, we’re still friends!” How the ever-loving fuck does anyone think that ever works?

Maybe you’ll be friends one day. But right now, we both know you won’t maintain the kind of consistent contact that accompanies friendship after your breakup. So don’t make empty promises. Follow-through is important; don’t do a sloppy job on both breaking up AND being friends.  It’ll just lend to more confusion in the short run.

“Don’t half-ass two things; Whole-ass one thing” – Ron Swanson

Rule #6: Acknowledge the relationship

The worst thing about someone breaking up with you is when you remember how little you thought about the people you broke up with and you realize that’s how little they’re thinking of you. (Before Sunrise. Great movie, go see it)

It’s important to at least acknowledge your shared past, especially if it was a happy one. I think it’s showing respect, if not to your ex, then to yourself. After all, you did learn a thing or two with them.

*Author’s note: I’ll give credits to Seth for at least doing this.

At the end of the day, every breakup story is unique, so feel free to add your own twist to it.

I just think that you’re already getting your way in the relationship by ending it, so giving your S.O. a dignified notice is a nice courtesy. Try to go about it gracefully.

Today, my train-wreck of a breakup is water under the bridge. Everybody has moved on. But in hindsight, it’s the way the breakup was handled, not the breakup itself, that left a bitter taste in my mouth. So Seth and I don’t stay in touch. Guess terrible last impressions can really tarnish great first ones.

Eh. Then again, I don’t know if I could’ve expected anything better coming from a 29 year old whose parents still buy his toilet paper.

Featured photo credit: woodleywonderworks , Flickr CC.

Living in this city is one hell of a social experiment. You come to face, and sometimes date, a variety of people from different backgrounds and with different personalities. All sorts of shapes and sizes… if you know what I mean. Still, you’ll always encounter some kind of crazy. If you’ve ever left the house, you know what I’m talking about.

Yeah yeah, it’s an opportunity for gaining fresh perspectives. Still. Dating is hard, it’ll Jedi mind fuck with your head, and when you fall it’s rarely graceful.

I am an adult (I checked) and I still screw up. A lot. I wear too short skirts on windy days, forget to pack an adequate amount of tampons before heading out, or occasionally get blackout drunk on a Tuesday night. Dating, however, takes the cake. Or the pie. Whatever gets thrown in my face first.

Oddly enough, I tend to be the go-to person among my friends when it comes to relationship troubles. Don’t know if I should be flattered because I’m a comforting person, or slightly offended because I’m seen as an expert in failed relationships? Eh, maybe my friends haven’t caught on to that last part yet.

Clearly, there’s no shortage of dumbass-baggery in my little black book. I can’t say I know everything there is to know about relationship dynamics (false modesty- I do). Point being, this isn’t an advice column.

I was told once that the point of life is to fail at greater and greater things. Meaning our cumulative fuck-ups are a measure of ascension. Mildly comforting? Look, the way I see it: life tends to come served with a heaping side of “fuck you”, and since we’re all in it for the long haul (optimistically) we need to cut ourselves some slack, right? I do so with a sprinkle of sarcasm and self-deprecation in my morning coffee. What’s your coping mechanism?

I have no issue spreading it for the world to see (pun intended), but I don’t want this to turn into some narcissistic platform either. My goal here is to simply start a conversation. With firsthand account stuff.

Some horror stories, mostly reflections, definitely lots of questioning. It’s a learning-on-the-job kinda thing, ya feel me?

But whatever the case, no cookie-cutter bullshit. If you want “47 ways to please your man”, then go to your nearest pharmacy and pick up a Marie-Claire.

Hi, I’m Jules. It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to Relationship Rants.

Featured photo by Albert Zablit / www.albertzablit.com

Let’s face it, dating ain’t easy. Whether you’re newly separated or a veteran on the scene, you’re always looking for dating tips and advice. Here are 8 tips that should help you get on the right track when on the hunt for that special someone.

1. Get things in order

Developing a serious relationship is about two lives working together like a well oiled machine. Make sure you have important aspects of your life together, like your career, living situation and relationships with friends and family.

2. Know what you want

Being clear with yourself about what you want will save you time and spare your or someone else’s feelings in the long run. A simple way toget started is to create a list of non-negotiables and work on understanding your needs before you put yourself on the market. Bonus: People like people who know what they want.

Know what you want

3. Get real

Be honest with yourself about what you have and are willing to offer as part of a relationship and consider what you expect, and more importantly deserve, from someone else.

4. Be prepared

Mentally prepare yourself to enter the dating scene. Don’t expect that you will bump into Mr/Mrs. Perfect in a grocery aisle tomorrow. Instead, keep in mind that you will need to make an effort to try new things in order to meet new people.

5. Ease up on the pressure

Dating with the goal of finding your next relationship is fine, but making it your sole purpose can backfire. The pressure can cause you to miss out on the enjoyment of dating itself or worse, it can scare someone you’re interested in away.

6. Don’t be afraid to reject

There’s no sugar coating it, rejection is a part of dating, and there is no upside to dragging something out with someone you know isn’t right for you.  Rejection is part of the game so try your best to stay positive and view any kind of rejection as an opportunity to better yourself.

7. Never settle

It’s a big red flag if you have to talk yourself into being with someone. Remember that it’s your life and that you can trust your gut. If you ever find yourself in a position where you think you might just settle for “Mr/Mrs. Right Now” instead of “Mr/Mrs. Right”,  take a little “me” time. The short break from the dating scene will be just what you need.

8. Have fun

Dating should be fun. Make sure you are enjoying yourself while you’re on the hunt for that special someone. So relax and embrace it for what it is; the opportunity to meet new people, try new things and learn more about yourself.

Kavvita Ajwani is the president of Montreal’s newest speed dating company, Dashing Date. Check out their calendar for all upcoming events. 


We are living in a so-called golden age of technology. It is an inescapable fact of contemporary existence, so much so that we’re completely reliant on it for the majority of our communication with others. And while it’s never been easier to deliver a message to someone, why does it seem that we’re drifting further apart to a place where genuine connection is harder and harder to achieve. This question is at the centre of Spike Jonze’s latest magnificent film, Her.

It stars Joaquin Phoenix as Theodore Twombly, a melancholic man with a well-coiffed mustache and wardrobe full of faded button downs and obscenely high-waisted trousers who uses a computer program to handwrite other people’s letters for a living in the not-too-distant future. Nursing his heart from a failed marriage, he’s unable to connect the women around him, be they seeking saucy cybersex or demanding dates two, three and four in the same breath as delivering bossy kissing tutorials. He seems more content to wander around aimlessly, earpiece in ear to drown out the world around him.

After he installs a new operating system who calls herself Samantha (delightfully voiced by Scarlett Johanssen), the seemingly banal task changes the course of his life when he falls in love with her. That premise given to another director might have turned out a one-note, predictable “odd couple” romantic comedy or overly cerebral sci-fi dystopia. Instead Jonze delivers a thought-provoking, honest story about the ups and downs of a relationship.

Instantly, from the first moment her husky, lilting voice is heard, Samantha sounds unabashedly genuine and about as unrobotic as possible. She knows just what to say, laughs at all the right times and helps coax Theodore out of his vulnerable shell. It’s not hard to see why he falls for her – she’s light and easy and always there to listen.

The burgeoning intimacy between the two builds to consummation and the screen tastefully fades to black, leaving the viewer with only the words and sounds of two lovers discovering new sides of each other for the first time. Their experience has an overall transcendent quality to it and the depth of affection that follows seems to question whether we even need a body to experience love at all.

Certainly anyone who’s ever been in a long-distance relationship can tell you that it’s possible to sustain love without physical proximity. Samantha grows to accept the physical limitations placed on her within the boundaries of their relationship, especially after her suggestion of experimenting with a sex surrogate standing in for her goes predictably awry.

As their love deepens, the film raises all kinds of interesting questions surrounding the legitimacy of relationships. She woefully questions whether her growing feelings are just a matter of programming, and as the honeymoon phase wears off, they experience all the conflict, jealousy and unraveling of a so-called “real” relationship.

The film is full of neat visual touches, like when Theodore has his sights on a tea kettle boiling atop an old gas stove as their relationship is literally reaching its boiling point. As Samantha’s character experiences far more growth than her emotionally stunted counterpart, she’s able to exist on a variety of levels that he cannot even begin to comprehend.

Ultimately, she becomes a catalyst for him to resolve some of his personal issues, resulting in a tender and eccentric take on contemporary love that manages to be at times both heart-warming and heart-breaking.

Let it never be said that Johnny Scott does not know heartache.

I began my painful life of pining for the gentler sex when I was still in diapers. And through the years the longing in my heart, like the diapers on my bottom, has only grown deeper and wider. I’ve had many loves in my life, many lost and many never-to-be. And the one common thread running through the whole absorbent, leak-proof tapestry is that each one was so cavalierly tossed aside at the slightest hint of a mess, like so many soiled Attends.

So, maybe being a great lover isn’t my strong suit. Maybe every love I’ve had has ended with me prone, halfway on some item of furniture, too debilitatingly heartbroken to move to reach the near-empty two-litre bottle of wine that has so carelessly rolled just out of my reach. Rolled just out of my reach like so many women before it, who also did so once their delicate bodies were no longer full of two litres of wine.

And this is what’s led me to the dawning comprehension that whatever my failings may be in maintaining a successful romantic relationship, the inverse is true of my skill as a passionate practitioner of the art of longing. Yes, however badly I cock up my pursuit of the love of a lady, I make up for it tenfold with my subsequent life-consuming yearning for her.

It’s a tremendous skill to have. Because what’s better to be able to do, woo someone with promise and successful delivery of an eternal love and devotion, or remind them constantly of an inextinguishable misunderstood preoccupation with what could have been if only they’d succumbed to your anguished advances? Clearly the latter shows a much greater degree of effort and commitment. Troubled desire is the intense, misshapen cousin of healthy love; and much like my intense, misshapen cousin at a family gathering, it’s hard to look at but impossible to ignore.

Now all of this, societally acceptable pursuit or degenerative brooding, is geared toward one thing: finding a partner. So if, like me, the former isn’t your bag, you might as well try your damnedest to be the best degenerate brooder you can be. Do everything you can to make yourself miserable in the name of longing, and do it right. Get adequately prepared, because wallowing in a puddle of your own despair is harder work than it sounds. And you want to make sure the object of your torch-bearing knows you’re not being lazy about it.

If you’ve got a job, you should probably consider quitting it, or at least taking some time off. You’re not going to be leaving your home for any reason whatsoever for a while, with the possible exception of occasionally putting on a long coat and staring pensively out over a body of water, internally comparing its depth and coldness to that of your own ravaged heart. Oh yeah, so make sure to buy an appropriately large amount of toilet paper before you start, because your whole image of stone-masked turmoil is undermined if you’re clutching a pack of Cottonelle puppies.

You’re not going to be eating very much, or wearing any clothes most of the time, so spend most of your grocery and laundry money on good, full-bodied red wine or mid-quality brandy. If you don’t yet dabble in heroin, now would be a great time to start. Ether is another good choice, if you can get it. The goal here isn’t to get right messed up on any of these, but to maintain a constant, days-at-a-stretch languor which dulls the pain smouldering inside you enough that you can focus on all the things you’d be doing at any given moment with your erstwhile soul-mate if only they’d finally see that they’re meant to be with you.

The soundtrack to your furious craving should be stark. I suggest the ceaseless drip of a kitchen faucet between songs on the same side of a beat-up Hank Williams record that keeps replaying itself again and again. Whatever you choose, it should be played indefinitely, to serve as a constant reminder that your suffering will never end.

Most importantly, keep a record of your pain. Great writing and music and art throughout the centuries has been created because of profound heartache, and what’s been the point of all this if your torment isn’t known to those around you? To that person whom all of this has been an effort to impress upon how lost you are without?

So fill your Facebook feed with vague status updates of lovelorn agony. Tweet relentlessly of your desperate search for meaning without the only person who can steady your shambling life. Instagram snapshots of the squalor imposed upon you by your burdened soul. And, always, blog blog blog.


Photo by Johnny Scott

Just over one year ago I signed up for Okcupid in hopes of generating some story ideas. I planned on carrying out some type of social experiment on how well people’s online personalities stacked up with their real selves, as well as to see what types of answers to profile questions attracted what types of people. I didn’t really get very far into my little experiment, as the third person I went out with ending up turning into the most significant relationship in my life so far.

We’ve had our ups and downs, though I’m happy to report that it’s mostly ups! He makes me laugh every single day and always tell me how beautiful I am and how much he loves me. I know this might be making all you single people out there puke in your mouths a bit but bear with me, I was once in your shoes. Honestly, this is my first serious relationship in over a decade, and that being said, I wish to impart some wisdom that I’ve picked up along the way:

Relationships Take Work (But it Should be Worth it)

Relationships may seem easy at first when it’s all fresh and new, when all you want to do is be around the person and learn everything about them (and every inch of them). In the beginning, we want to put forth the best version of ourselves to impress our newfound love. But somewhere around the 4-6 month mark, the bubble bursts, ending the honeymoon phase and kicking in the “we can work it out” phase where you start to wonder why you’re bickering over seemingly insignificant things like which restaurant to eat at or who forgot to take out the trash.

Basically, it’s not like it should really take a lot of work at once, just a little bit of work every day from both parties. Compliments, listening, honesty and compassion go a long way.

Strive for a Similar Drive

Obviously you want to get into a relationship with someone compatible in certain areas like morals, beliefs and desires from life. One of the most important desires not to be overlooked is sex drive since this is the main aspect that differentiates your romantic relationship from the other ones in your life.

Finding someone who has a drive equal to yours is one of the keys to a happy and healthy long-term relationship, because if one person’s drive is higher than the other, someone will always be getting more or less than what they want. Since this is something that you can’t really change about yourself, it makes it easier when you find someone whose appetites are similar to your own.

Pick your Battles Wisely

A wise man once crooned that you gotta know when to hold em’ and when to fold em’. Compromise is the foundation upon which all great relationships are built. In an equal partnership, no one can get exactly what they want all the time. By focusing on which things are most important to you, you can figure out when to give in and let your partner win sometimes too.

Learn How to Fight Constructively

Fighting is a natural part of any relationship, and all couples do it in one way, shape or form. It naturally comes from spending so much time with another person and sharing your most intimate moments, both good and bad. I’m not really an authority on the subject, as our relationship is pretty amicable. The worst fight we ever had was when he shaved his hair much shorter that I thought he would, giving him the look of an ex-con… and not in a good way.

Bringing up issues as soon as they arise is the mature way of dealing with conflict. There’s no sense in letting resentment build, as this causes a massive imbalance in the relationship that one party isn’t even aware of. Letting things go once they’re resolved is crucially important too, because using old fights as ammunition in current conflicts isn’t exactly fair game.


So yeah… this counts as a gift, right? Seeing as how the traditional anniversary gift for the first year is paper, baby you can just print this out and voila!

It’s that time of the year when many Montrealers scour the streets for boxes and scramble to rent overpriced trucks in search of a slightly better deal on a living space. Yes, it’s almost Moving Day, and it will be a particularly eventful one for me, as I will be moving in with my boyfriend, hitting that significant milestone of a serious relationship for the first time ever.

At least I’m not the only one “living in sin” – according to the Statistics Canada, the number of common-law couples rose almost 14% between 2006 and 2011, which was four times the increase for married couples. Since data on common-law couples was first gathered in 1981, they went from representing 5.6% of all census families to 16.7% in 2011.

We’ll be joining the ranks of the other 1.2 million other Quebecers living common-law. Here, over one-quarter of all census families are common-law couples, the highest percentage of all the provinces.

Studies have shown that cohabitation before marriage can lead to more trouble than it’s worth. While some of the advantages include a higher level of commitment and a spike in sex frequency after first shacking up, there was also an overall decline in relationship quality and satisfaction. This manifests itself in yelling and name-calling, physical aggression and a lack of intimacy.

In a piece for the New York Times, clinical psychologist Meg Jay warns against entering into cohabitation without discussing the motivation for the decision and questioning the commitment level of the relationship, something researchers have dubbed sliding not deciding. “Moving from dating to sleeping over to sleeping over a lot to cohabitation can be a gradual slope, one not marked by rings or ceremonies or sometimes even a conversation. Couples bypass talking about why they want to live together and what it will mean,” she wrote.

This, in fact, is the complete opposite of my situation, where my boyfriend tells pretty much every waking moment how excited he is for us to be living together, especially cutting down on travel time between his St. Henri apartment and my place on the Plateau. We’re also excited to start building a life together, playing off each other’s strengths and share the responsibilities to create a happy and healthy home.

Upon consulting friends, family and relationship experts, it seems that the universal piece of advice for someone moving in with a lover for the first time is to make a point in spending quality time together. Since living with anyone, be it a family member, roommate or boyfriend, involves a lot of daily maintenance and dull, ordinary transactions, it’s important not to let it slide into too far into that realm.

As someone who’s been living alone and loving it for over five years, getting accustomed to sharing my space with anyone is going to be a bit of a learning curve. I’m also going to need to learn when to ask for time alone.

I guess what it boils down to is that while my expectations are quite high, I’m confident that we will be able to pull this off with all the finesse and flair befitting of our fabulous new apartment… but not before I have one more sloppy crazy party to celebrate the end of my bachelorette-hood.

Why get love and sex advice from one person when you can benefit from the wisdom of two. Goofy Welldone and Miss K are here to help. Today’s topic: dating multiple women

Dear Forget The Box,

I’ve recently met a couple of women, both of whom I liked. I met them around the same time and have only dated each of them a few times so far. Then I met a THIRD girl. Now I’m dating, and sleeping with, all three. I haven’t known these women long enough to figure out if I want to pursue something more serious with any of them and, honestly, I’m really enjoying myself in the mean time. I haven’t mentioned to any of them that we’re not exclusive, but the question hasn’t come up either, so I don’t really feel like I’ve lied to them. Honestly though, I think if they find out they might not be too happy about it.

Do you have any advice on how to successfully date more than one person at a time?


– A Lucky Fucker

Here’s my advice A Lucky Fucker: Don’t do it! Why do you want to date multiple women at once ? You’re just setting your self up for lots of drama. Follow my advice and just date one at a time for a short period of time. Don’t force yourself into multiple relationships that will only mean double or triple the listening, attention, money and lies that you will have to shell out in order not to cause more drama.

If you don’t love them you can still have sex with them, but don’t make any sort of commitment even under heavy pussy pressure. It’s important to understand that if you’re dating these girls, you’ll have to spend money to take them out to restaurants, to parties, you’ll have to buy them gifts…Some women you can get away with only spending a couple of bucks on, but others will require things like a nice hotel room and a nice restaurant. Are you sure you want to sign up for that ?

Should you still feel the urge and find yourself in a situation where you’re dating multiple women at once, be honest about everything except the other women. They don’t have to know if you’re not in a relationship with them.

Keep it casual, avoid chilling with any of their friends or family. Also avoid Facebook as much as possible and deactivate the tagging function.

If one of your girlfriends asks if you’re dating other women just go Zambito style and answer: I can’t confirm that and I can’t exclude it! And never, EVER tell them you love them. If you want to be successful in dating multiple women at once you cannot fall in love in the process. Should you get caught dating all these chics at once either run for your life and save yourself the public embarrassment, or keep a strait face, deny everything and call everybody a liar. If she’s not that smart and you’re extremely good in bed she might eat it.

– Goofy


Here’s MY advice A Lucky Fucker: Don’t listen to Goofy! It’s not 1955 anymore, so you don’t have to spend a bunch of money to impress a girl, ’cause most of us are a LOT more impressed by things like respect, intelligence, humour and good conversation. You know, the important shit.

And gee golly gosh, now that we’re allowed to go out and make our own money (can you believe it?), we can pay for our own dinner too! Don’t get me wrong, I like it when a guy pays for dinner or whatever when we go out, but I also like to be the one to treat sometimes. It’s the fucking millenium for chrissakes!

Ok, back to your question: it’s perfectly acceptable for you to be involved with more than one woman at a time, but (and listen carefully now) ONLY IF YOU’RE HONEST ABOUT IT! Being dishonest and/or evasive is super shady and ends up making you look like a dick.

If you’re not yet sure if you want to get serious with any of these chicks, just tell them you’re dating but you’re not ready to commit to anyone yet. If they’re grown-ups, they should understand that you haven’t known each other for long. Hell, they might even be in the same position as you. Or maybe they’ll decide to walk away.

Either way, these women have the right to know what the situation is and have the right to choose whether or not it’s something they can deal with. If you lie, you take that choice away and, as you said, if they ever find out they probably won’t be too happy about it. Also, if I were you I would take into consideration that trust is probably the most important ingredient in a successful relationship, and once you loose it, it’s damn near impossible to get it back.

It sounds like you’re open to idea of possibly pursuing a relationship with one of these chicas down the road, so don’t fuck it up by being a dishonest jerk. Be a good man and show these ladies the respect they deserve. You’ll feel better about yourself, they’ll feel better about you and you’ ll (hopefully) still get to hang out with them naked.

– Miss K

Got a burning question for our gurus? Send it to advice@forgetthebox.net