Prince Charming turns to Baboon

A woman’s dream is to meet a Larry who is intelligent, handsome, successful, funny and charming.  Those are some of my requirements for my big catch.  So when asked out on a date with the potential Prince Charming Larry who fit the bill, I was very happy!

I decided that our first date be casual  so we went to my favorite breakfast joint in the neighborhood. Since I am somewhat a regular there, I wanted the girls behind to the counter to check him out and see what they thought!

I met him at the café and we stood in line to order our food and coffee. My ladies gave me that knowing look and smile: “Ohhhh.. This one is nice!”  So far so good.

We went outside in the garden patio and found a corner table.  Something about this Larry made me giddy like a little girl. I liked being around him and at some point he sat beside me to close the distance and I was good with that. Our food eventually came and since I’m not a breakfast person, I just ordered toast and coffee while Prince Charming Larry ordered a massive amount of Chilaquiles.

Next Scene: Fairy Tale is now over.

Once the food was placed in front of him, Prince Charming Larry transformed into a different person.  Our conversation came to a complete halt.  He proceeded to season his food with all the condiments on the table mixing, stirring and just making a complete mess on his plate and table. He picked up his fork and started shoveling food into his mouth with bits tortillas, red sauce and eggs flying everywhere. One even landed on my neatly pressed white shirt! He not only spilled food all over his clothes but on mine too. I was mortified that this put together man had table manners of a baboon!

I excused myself to go to the bathroom so I could clean up and Baboon Larry didn’t even acknowledge that I left. My girls were keeping an eye on me and saw everything. 

“What a turn off”

 “Gross, didn’t his mother teach him table manners?”

“ You’re done with this one right?”

Yes, ladies I am! One of my pet peeves are horrible table manners and it doesn’t matter how handsome and charming you are. Once a Baboon always a Baboon!

I headed back to the table and found Baboon Larry slouched in his chair, legs straight out…the only thing he didn’t do was put his hand in his pants like Al Bundy! That was it for me. I told him that there was an emergency at the office and had to leave pronto. “Please don’t get up. I’ve got to run. I’ll call you later.”

Exit stage get me the f*ck out of here!!

Xxoo- The Juggler

Ask for the number, or move it along buddy!

Any one that has been to the Mondrian would attest to it being one of L.A.’s more swanky bars. Here the men are dressed in suits and typically somewhat gainfully employed and “intelligent”. In honor of a friend’s birthday a group of us ventured there to celebrate the birthday aka prowl for single men. Whenever you put a group of single hot girls together, it’s bound to morph into some sort of prowling or so I ‘ve noticed. We position ourselves strategically on the couch with suits to our left and on our right.

Eventually we strike up conversation and before I knew it, I was being monopolized. 3 hours & one seat change to move closer to me, he is still talking. Before I knew it, it was last call. He is going to get my number right? Or at least that’s what any rational person would think. Nope, I got the hug, the nice to meet you, the lingering look, and then he left. Punk! Why on earth did he not close the deal? Was I supposed to? It seems men in this city are used to women being so aggressive they now wait for us to make it happen. Why would someone bother to have a conversation for 3 hours if not to walk away feeling accomplished. I never spend time talking to the married guy at the bar for this reason, you are pointless and counterproductive. I think married men need to bring their own entertainment to the bar. Maybe Larry got out of the night what he came for… my witty banter. I have no idea, but I really need to learn to close the deal faster or move it along. It’s quite upsetting to get dressed up and end up wasting the look on a dud too much of a lame to ask for the number.

On the car ride home I lamented the issue, to which a friend retorted, “at least you got to talk to someone, I was sitting too far away to have a shot.” What? No one puts baby in the corner. LOL. I said, I thought you were a go-getter. Why she felt confined to the original seating arrangement which doomed her faith to engage, is beyond me. In dating in L.A. you have to learn to box out to be seen. Why in love and dating do we spend so much time beating around the bush and sitting in the dark corner? Clearly my friend thought she would magically get discovered in the line up of 5 hot chicks who had seized better seating positions and I similarly retarded, assumed that 3 hours invested in conversation would lead to at least a number exchange. Definitely time to work on my exit strategy.

Monica Santa XO!

If you must masterbate or be witness to, please learn the rules!

The past weekend was quite an eventful one for me. I somehow managed dates with three Larry’s – Larry Hip Hop, Larry Korean and Larry Sweetness. Larry Hip Hop made resurgence after a 2 week hiatus. I finally gave Larry Korean a date after 6 months. We’ll skip the details on those two for now, as they were pale in comparison to what happened with Larry Sweetness. 

I ventured out with Larry Sweetness on Saturday night.   Initially, he told me that just the two of us were hanging out, but later, sent a text saying we would be hitting downtown with some of his friends. Meeting the friends I thought, "this is good." Upon arrival, Larry greeted me wearing a nicely pressed collared shirt that was clearly the victim of a paint splatter party! Who wears a shirt with neon splatter?!  Was I dating the homeless?  I ignored dwelling on the incomprehensibility, focused on his cuteness and moved on. 

We make it upstairs to his apartment and I am greeted by 4 of Larry’s hot guy friends.  Wow - 4! Had I died and arrived in hot guy Mecca? Little did I know -this was just the start. Ten minutes later, the door opens and 2 more, equally as hot, arrive.  No way. Just before we leave, yet another, emerges from the bedroom. Was the apartment some lab for spawning hotties?  Eight hot guys and me. I wanted to call all my girls and tell them I had found the only remaining man gold mine in L.A.

The night went well and I enjoyed Larry’s company while I tried hard to not focus on all the other hotties.  We return to his apartment and get ready for bed.  As I sit in Larry’s room, I notice through the cracked door, the roommates have decided to give me a show by walking around in their CK boxer briefs - low rise. It felt like it was my birthday with all these Chip-N-Dales outside the door!   

After an hour of chatter, we pass out, or rather - I passed out.  In the middle of my sleep, I begin to feel Larry poking me with his pecker. I asked "You can’t sleep?" Larry responded “No, hard to sleep when I'm rock hard.”  In my head I thought "Sounds like a personal problem." Larry then goes on to tell me how comfortable he is with masturbation and keeps yapping. Soon, Larry was naked and was lying on top of me as we made out (please note I am still dressed in t-shirt and boxers). The next thing he did still has me in shock. 

He pulls off from kissing me and starts to straddle me with his pecker which was too close for comfort.  No way was I making out with his pecker, so I pull my head back. Larry then starts to massage himself right there in my face - while sitting high on my chest.  Who does this? 

As I lay there with a 3D view of the action, all I thought was "OMG! Cover your face, that thing might shoot!"  Not knowing what to say or how to stop the action, as I had said “masturbation was natural" earlier, oblivious that I was being set up. Hands over my face and ready for the worst, I hear Larry make a noise and next thing I know his penis was in my mouth! UGH, How? WTF! You brute!  I was so busy protecting my face, I didn’t notice when Larry lunged forward and my mouth trained to open and the next thing you knew, I had a penis in my mouth with no warning at all. It was said and done by the time I could react. 

Maybe Sweetness Larry isn’t so sweet after all. I plan to renegotiate my Pavlov response for future sudden penis attacks to the mouth, instead of open: suck. I am retraining to open and bite to safeguard this occurrence in the future. Sorry, Pavlov.

No Lucky Charms for this Leprechaun

Last St. Patrick’s Day, a friend of mine and I decided to hit the grand ‘ole pub to have a couple green beers. The line to get in the place was so ridiculous that we opted to keep it classy and bounced to the nearest 7-11, grabbed a 40 in a brown paper bag and stopped by the Subway next door for a sandwich. I was hungry, but more focused on drinking my beer than scarfing down a 6” club with onions before sweeping my future Irish husband away my killer dance moves and breathe. I stuck it in my purse to save for later as we walk into another bar. We found that a lot of the Irish men had the same temperament as me, refusing to stand in line (typical LA b.s.) and fled here as well. I thought to myself “I like their style. They don’t wait around for a drink either - typical Irishman.”

We meet a group of guys that were practically straight off the boat from Ireland. We took down green beers, green shots... more green beers and more green shots. Even though I’m not Irish, I was definitely keeping up with the best of them! I had my eye on this half Irish, half English Leprechaun Larry (so not a ginger) and as the night progressed, it became apparent that we were both getting a little flirtatious and frisky. For some reason, he felt the need to keep lifting me up. WTF is that all about?!?!

We decided to leave the bar and walk to Leprechaun Larry’s house around the corner for a few games of beer pong - which I must admit - I’m pretty damn good. As soon as we walked out of the bar door, he tried to lift me up to give me a piggy back ride. I kindly turned down the offer, but he literally begged that I ride his back. I had on comfortable heels (yes, there is such a thing) and I could walk in a semi-straight line. No thanks! Besides, I was itching to dive into my sandwich that has been patiently waiting for me to eat it all night.

I dig into my purse to pull out my 6” club and took one orgasmic bite. (Mmmmmmm..... I can still taste it now.) All of a sudden, I was swooped up out of nowhere, sandwich in hand, on the back of this little leprechaun running down the street. He trips and we both fall to the ground. Sandwich - EVERYWHERE! I adopted a beautiful scrape on my forearm from the fall and let out a loud “NOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Are you fucking kidding me?!?!?!” It was a “I’m about to die” scream and was about in tears because my sandwich was gone. I picked myself up. Took one scolding look at him, grabbed my friend’s hand, turned and walked the other way.

I’m convinced that the piggy back ride was Leprechaun Larry’s mating call, but when he comes between me and my food, you better believe - he is not getting me lucky charms near his wee leprechaun balls.

Xoxo Magnum Magnet

In a Married World, Singles Struggle for Attention

After reading Tara Pope’s recent article, In a Married World, Singles Struggle for Attention, we were compelled to respond.

Magnum Magnet's Soundoff

FINALLY! Thank the lord we have a movement! National Single and Unmarried Americans Week! I believe that singles live in a biased world. Sure, we have sexual freedom, but we don't get any special recognition for it. No singles flag day, no celebration for keeping your standards high, no parties for birth control rates - my list goes on.

I give mad props to those couples that know they don't want kids and don't fall into the pressures of having them. I also give mad props to the Brangelinas out there that don't think a piece of paper defines their relationship and can still raise a healthy, thriving family.
Besides just a few government write-offs for married couples, I really don't see an advantage to marriage besides stating your vows publically to each other - to love and hold, through richer or poorer, bla bla bla...LIES! In today's world, a promise doesn't hold much weight anymore, so even that can go down the toilet. I enjoy my social life. I enjoy networking. I enjoy helping my community. I think it is important to find someone that will live parallel with my life, not interfere with it and hold me from my enjoyments.

I feel a sense of urgency at my age to have kids, but a piece of paper won't define my future baby daddy as a capable loving partner and father.

Magnum Magnet xo


Monica Santa's Soundoff

So, last week was apparently National Single and Unmarried Americans Week. Really? Who knew! Did I somehow miss the parade and the celebrations? I imagine many others missed this week as well. I suppose if it’s not recognized with a hallmark card, it doesn’t count. Us “single’s” are always getting the short end of the stick it seems. But why? And what is it going to take for single’s to get some kind of recognition within the world of the married’s vs. the unmarried’s. Everyone at some point is single and this is absolutely fine. Why do we pay more taxes, have higher insurance premiums, etc.? Why pick on me because I’m single? If anything, shouldn’t I be getting some support? If you are married, you have dual income, yet the single people are the one’s that have no breaks and pay more. I have been single more than I have had the luxury of the coveted “plus one”. Singledom is pretty awesome and society needs to re-evaluate their view that we are somehow maladjusted. Not having found someone you want to marry isn’t a sin! - Yet I feel punished.

I was happy Tara’s article pointed out the fact that “single” people contribute to their communities and society as a whole more than “married’s.”  So in essence, society needs us single people in the long run, doing our part to stay “active members of the world” and let me add, the economy. I volunteer, I go out a lot and I spend lots of money! Fairly certain this is good for the economy and the community. So to those that would think that being married implies you have “arrived,” I say, it’s another state of existence and it might be joyous and lovely, but don’t discount the single state which has its perks and from which you actually benefit. It’s time us single’s start fighting for some rights. Who’s with me?!

Monica Santa


The Juggler's Soundoff

Marriage???  Been there done that...and DONE is the operative word! The perks that come with being married does not even outweigh the dramas, headaches and heartaches. Yes, singledom does come with these too, but it's much easier to deal with when you are on your own.

In today's society, we don't need a piece of paper to prove our commitment to one another... best examples of this is Hawn-Russel and Brangelina. Being single should be celebrated with a parade, a Hallmark card and given a date on the calendar.xxoo - The Juggler


Honey Badger's Soundoff

Single awareness week? Shit, I've been celebrating my single awareness for almost ten years now. (Ok, there's been multiple 3-month long-until-I-get-bored-or-smothered bfs over the years, but unless you pass the 6-month threshold, I don't give a damn who you think you are...you just don't count by my calculations.) THAT'S HOW MUCH I LOVE BEING SINGLE. I've created my own calculation to further maximize my singledom. Instead of stirring the economy the way married folk do with matching track suits, matching personalized license plates and eventually baby gap and Kindergarten payments, I splurge on weekend trips and weeknights out, all the while stirring another drink in celebration of my singlehood. Fortunately, if I ever get tricked into marriage, I can safely look back and know I'm confident and capable  on my own and not a carbon copy mutant that settled down with the first guy available rather than sample around to get a wider picture on what's even out there. In closing, and on a very serious note, I would like to say I LOVE BEING SINGLE and am so fortunate for the friendships and experiences I've gathered along the way. 
XO, HB



The Ladies of L.A.I.D. would like to say, Thanks, Tara!

Romance or a Shopping Buddy?

Something about a man in a suit and that just exudes confidence, success and style! That's what I saw in Corporate Larry- always well dressed in his designer suits, Italian leather shoes and perfectly groomed. He looked as if he just walked off a photo shoot.

On our 4th dinner date, Larry commented on my shoes. "You seem to have a sexy collection of heels and I would love to see them." Hmmm.. how do you respond to that? I made a nonchalant comment and brushed it off. I was having such a lovely time and didn't want the date to end. After dinner, I asked if he wanted to come in for a night cap. He agreed.
"Make yourself comfy, I'll be right back," I said as I headed towards the kitchen taking off my shoes along the way. Larry followed me and commented how he liked my house.  As I turned around to thank him, I found him holding one of my heels and inspecting it with awe as a scientist would a new species.  Hmmm... Corporate Larry has a shoe fetish!!! He looked as if he was in some trance. "I guess you're really taken with with those heels," I said. After what seemed like forever, he asked if he could see my shoe collection. OH.. I've never been asked this before. Not knowing how to respond, I quickly downed my wine and said SURE. This is going to be interesting.

He helped me take down the boxes of selected shoes in my closet and asked if I would model them for him.  Usually men want you to wear sexy heels while in bed, but to model shoes while on a date? I'm game...Shoe Fetish Larry was a perfect gentleman helping me put on the shoes and taking them off and caressing each shoe before he placed them back in the boxes. He asked the history of each shoe: Why I bought them, why that particular color and how did it make me feel when I wore them.

After the fashion show and a bottle of wine, he thanked me, we kissed and said our good nites. This has got to be the oddest date for me. It was not the ending I anticipated. We didn't even make out in between changes.  I wasn't sure if I felt disappointed because in all honesty I had fun.
I don't think Larry will end up in the romantic category , but at least I know who to call if I want to go shopping.
xxoo - The Juggler

Uncertain endings in and out of the bedroom

This weekend marked the culmination of a 5 month “thing” that I had with my latest Larry. I use the word “thing” deliberately to imply that it was never truly defined if we were dating, sexing, bf/gf, lovers or what. Undefined “romances” are not uncommon for me, they are quite typical actually. However, what I would say was unusual in this instance, was that the end, too, was unclear. It’s one thing to not label a relationship, but to not know when it’s over after 5 months, that’s F’ing crazy.
The last time I saw Larry was 3 weeks ago when we got into a minor fight by most standards, however, Larry decided it warranted a storm off. How old are we?
I told Larry I was meeting my friends at the pier for our weekly Thursday hang out session. He said “I’ll join you guys for an hour and half because I have another engagement to get to.” I was running late so I alerted Larry via text, he said OK. Everyone knows that getting across town in rush hour traffic before 7 p.m. is no easy feat, so by the time I arrive it was closer to 7:45 p.m. Once I park my car, I text Larry that I have a ton of food for the pier and so the “load” is making my walk hell. Now, any guy, well, gentleman rather, would have offered assistance. Not Larry. I show up to find Larry sitting at a bar chatting up cougars. I position myself strategically so I can see what he does when I call - 8 rings - no answer. The cougars leave, I phone again, Larry answers.
Upon seeing Larry I said, why did you ignore the calls and why did you not offer assistance. Larry says “You are late and I don’t read minds.”
I responded “Asking you to be chivalrous is not about reading minds.”
At this point he decides the discussion is over and proceeded to exit with haste stating “This has been fun.” 10 days later, we were still at stalemate. As I sat in the ambivalence, I decided that was a sign it must have been over, since men speak best through silence.
That said, on Sunday I took our thing off life support and laid it to rest. Now that it’s over, I can share another peculiarity that marred this romance. Not only did Larry not know how to “end” what he had started in terms of the romance, he also had issues “ending” things in the bedroom. He could not cum! In all my years of suitors and penis issues, not ever had I encountered anything of this magnitude.
Larry was incapable of coming from intercourse. He could go for hours on end – which was great – but then if he doesn’t cum, at what point is the end? When questioned, he told me that he had been this way his entire life. Oye vey!
As I connect the dots, I see now why Larry boasted the ego he did and was susceptible to tantrums. He has been living life with “pent” up, no pun intended, frustration. Wiser about the issue than he is, thanks to Google, I have learned it is known as Delayed Ejaculation. It can be caused by excessive masturbation or be psychological. I have seen Larry masturbate and can attest to the fact, he did it more rigorously and applied more pressure than one penis should be able to take.
However, I have also seen tantrums, so the jury is out if he’s messed in the head or has just inadvertently broken his own penis. I look forward to the day when sex is not ended due to sheer exhaustion & welcome my future, fully functioning package and urge men who are currently bordering chronic masturbation - end it now.
Monica Santa

Breast Size Does Not Equal Penis Size!

So it's been a while since I've seen Limp Larry, also known to some of you as Breast Man Larry. He invited me to his house on Sunday for what I presumed would be a barbeque with friends, like the good 'ole times. But nooooooo, it turned out to be his condo, two bottles of 'Two Buck Chuck' and no roommates in site. I knew I had been duped.

One thing led to another and here I was on his couch... and then on him for an intense make out sesh with sports center playing in the background. How romantic! If I need any inspiration, I'll look no further than the TV screen to fantasize about hooking up with hot athletes. We finally cooled things off with a visit down the street to two different breweries to enjoy a variety of tasty beers. Only to be capped by a trip back to his deserted condo to continue the make out sesh where we left off. We were in the moment when we heard the shower upstairs turn on and knew we weren't alone. We retreated to his bedroom for more making out.

Things were getting really hot and really fast. I didn't remember having this much fun with Breast Man Larry in the past!

Then it happened. He whispered in my ear, "your boobs are as big as my dick" and his hand led my hand down there. It was not only limp but it was also tiny. I tried to waken the giant but my efforts were fruitless and I was once again reminded of why I broke things off in the first place. 

What a shame! Such a nice and fun guy, but he just can't manage to turn anything on--except for the Sports Channel. So I did what any girl would do, I grabbed my purse, wished him farewell, went home and clicked my own remote.

XO, Honey Badger

My Silent-Night Cowboy

I’m a country girl at heart, so when the DJ plays my favorite Garth Brooks song, I hit the dance floor to shake my booty. Next thing I know, there is a guy in a black cowboy hat approaching me, holding out his hand to two step and I happily oblige. He was not a “looker” by any means, but Cowboy Larry had the moves down. He didn’t say anything... didn’t even ask my name. I said “Wow, you’re a great country dancer for living in LA,” and still, no response - just a nod - so mysterious! The song ends, I head back to my corner, he heads back to his. My friend and I sip our drinks as we watch four guys come our way - my dance partner being one of them.

The Cowboy Larry’s friend approaches me and says “Thank you so much for dancing with my friend, you’re a really cool girl for doing that.” I tilt my head a little to the right, confused look on my face (that I learned from my dog) and he gives me a blank look thinking “how do you not know!?!” He just comes out with it and says “My friend is deaf and mute, but he can read lips.”

Feeling like a total ass-hole for not putting two and two together, I lip-synced (in slow motion) to Cowboy Larry saying “ohhhhhhhh.... duh. Thank you for the dance.” The guy was nice, but as dreamy as it might be to date a guy that doesn’t talk - only knows what you say in front of his face, no loud arguments and a paper trail of promises... I just couldn’t take my head out of my ass. After a long dialogue of pick-up lines with the friend translating his sign language - I could only muffle the lie “he seems like a great guy, but I’m sorry, I have a boyfriend.”

To my surprise, that didn’t stop Cowboy Larry from pursuing me. After copping an attitude by my persistent denials, I started to get a bit annoyed as I figured he was clearly mistaking my kindness for weakness. He wasn’t moving from my side. So, instead of becoming confrontational, I walked up to the bar, grabbed the cutest man I could find and laid a wet kiss on his lips. I told him “You are my boyfriend for the night. Come with me.” As we walk back to the table, turns out - small fucking world - they know each other from high school. My new “boyfriend” looks at me with disgust because he clearly knew I was discriminating Cowboy Larry. At that awkward moment, wanting to bury myself in a hole, I dipped out the back door.

I knew this wasn’t just a coincidence, I was being punished. FML. How do you get out of something like this without being a complete bitch?!

xoxo Magnum Magnet

Thank you Harvest Moon!

Last night,  my young Hollywood Larry and I went out on a date to  one of the restaurants on my list in West Hollywood. I was actually impressed as it's not a cheap restaurant. We laughed, conversation was flawless, food, ambiance and wine impeccable. I was in the moment, just enjoying this  hottie sitting in front of me.

During one of our conversation, my phone rang. I picked up the phone to set it on vibrate and noticed that my incoming call is none other than Finance Larry. Oh... I have the hots for  Finance Larry. What a pleasant surprise, but bad timing. I wanted to excuse myself to go outside and return the call, but refrained from doing so.... Focus on  Hollywood Larry and the date at hand.

At some point during dinner, Larry excused himself to use the restroom and our sommelier came to the table to pour wine. I thanked him for the wine he suggested and made small talk. Before he walked away he handed me his card and tells me, " I hope to hear from you." HUH?? Totally unexpected and a bit shocked, I quickly put his card in my purse. Hollywood Larry returns, I smile and date resumes.

Three Larry's in one evening? It must be the Harvest Moon at play. How long do we have until it's gone? I need to harvest as many Larry's for those dry spells.

xxoo - The Juggler

JayZ, the way to a girls heart

So I recently decided to step outside my comfort zone and go on a date with a black guy.  Compared to my usual blue-eyed Larry’s, the entire experience was quite different and has me now debating if the coveted hot and sexy black man is what I really need? (Magnum Magnet?)

I met Hip Hop Larry about two weeks ago one early morning while getting coffee at Starbucks. We chit chatted for a bit before I gave him my card. He then followed up by texting me within the hour with a picture of him in a silk robe with a big smile, the message read, “Nice to meet you, here is my number.”  Nice to meet you, I’m Hugh Hefner’s protégé was probably more fitting, but it’s not everyday a girl meets a cute Larry with the swagger of a rapper, so I stored the number.

A week later, it was decided we would go to a sports bar for a 1pm game and Larry arrived to pick me up promptly at 1230.   The date went smoothly & there was definite chemistry. The conversation flowed and Larry was quite affectionate, at times too affectionate, as he stuck his 5 inch tongue to the back of my throat, repeatedly.  Were we really having a “passionate” make out session in a sports bar? The words just go with it echoed in my mind.

 At half time Larry says, “let’s go somewhere else.”  I inquired where, but he said, “it’s a surprise.” Our next stop was Ralph’s where I got to select a bottle of wine to go to our unknown destination. From sports bar to red wine, wow, could Hip-Hop Larry be a romantic?  After getting the wine, we got back in the car and Larry put in a JayZ CD and turned the volume up.  So much for romance, it’s JayZ time.  As I sat thinking about the red wine and where we were going, it was hard for me to gauge what I was feeling.  JayZ was for sure distracting any kind of romantic feelings that could have been developing.

Eventually we end up in Malibu and Larry pulls into the Mailboxes parking lot. PAUSE. Where are we going?  As I sat confused Larry said, “I’ll be right back, going to get my mail.”  At this point, I’m like, wtf.  First he lives in Hollywood, second, isn’t this a date? Hmm, OK.   Next stop was the beach.  I tried to get back into character of someone on a date and not someone that just pit stopped to get mail on a first date. 

At the beach, we parked off to side of the road where we had a good view of the ocean.  With JayZ still in the background,  we sipped red wine from the clear solo cup, talked about random things, including his love for sex, where Larry compared his appetite for sex to that of a hungry lion. Fantastic?…Wait…maybe that’s scary.  All in all, the date was "good", despite some odd patches along the way, including a weird kiss and speedy exit at the end.  As I walked to my elevator, with JayZ still stuck in my head, I thought, hmm, is this what modern day romance is….JayZ on the beach? I didn’t know if I was falling in love or pumped up for a rap concert.

Monica Santa

Bless Your Mess

I was at the club with my lady friends and I noticed this tall drink of water walk into the building with his athletic looking teammates. He was lighter skinned, electric blue eyes, about 6’9” and made me look like an ant. I was sitting at the table of the owner and he noticed that I could not take my eyes off that Baller Larry. He went over to the table and said something to my man and was soon in front of my face. We talked and danced the rest of the night. He walked me to my friends car and exchanged numbers. I thought I was about to wet my pants with excitement! We were totally in love!

Baller Larry was a European basketball player and shared a condo with a friend of his. They were video gamers by day, partiers by night and somewhere in the middle of those important qualities, shot some hoops. We had a date to go to the movies and it was lovely. We get back to his place - to make out central - where I tried to dive in deeper, but felt a little hesitation. He said that he wanted to wait. I thought to myself, “Is this really happening?!?! A gorgeous basketball player is wanting to wait?!” Holy smokes - I AM in LOVE!

He calls me two days later and asks me to come over and watch a movie. We start kissing again, moving to the next base and he stops. He suggested we move to the bedroom. He heads to the bathroom, fixes himself up a little, comes back to the bed and pulls out a Bible from his nightstand. He said he needed to read a few pages before he can proceed to having sex.

I stood there in amazement. I have nothing against religious beliefs, buuuuuuuuuut... that’s just bizarre. I sat back, stared at the ceiling, showed him respect, prayed to God even - asking for Baller Larry to be a fast reader and worth this long wait. Finally the Bible closes, back in the drawer it goes, he turns to me and blessed the top of my head. Sex drive - GONE. I felt like the Scarlett Letter was just tagged to my forehead and nothing happens. I fall asleep, only to be awakened by a jolting feeling on the bed. I open my eyes only to find Baller Larry ejaculating on himself. The mess that was created looked like he had not gotten off in years. I was officially weirded out and plotted a discrete exit. He called me for weeks, but I just couldn’t bear the visual left in my head so I had to set the godly bird free.

XoXo Magnum Magnet

Guys Love the Funk!

No, I'm not talking about the music genre, either! What I mean by "guys love the funk" is this...

I've noticed that when I'm getting ready to hit the town with my friends, it's important that I look and feel my best. What I've also noticed is that when I shower-all-the-way--meaning wash my face, hair and scrub my most important body parts, plus, shave my legs, bikini line and underarms, followed by after-shower tasks like blow drying and styling my hair, putting on makeup and finally, wearing that new dress or accessory for it's first outing--everything is perfect and in place. With my boobs propped up, I'm ready to hit the town with my friends and attract the attention of men.

But what always happens 9 times out of 10 when I go through the shower-all-the-way process? No. Men.

But what happens when I completely miss a step in the showering process, like forget to wash off my vagina after a wild night out the night before or maybe just forget to put on deodorant or shave my prickly legs? Flocks of men herd to me for my attention! They want to make out. They want one night stands. They profess their love and want to become my boyfriend. Some have even called me "wifey." It's insane!

I swear, it must be natural pheromones at play. Either that, or guys just love the sweet sound (and smell) of the funk.

xo, Honey Badger

Tossed Greek Salad with a Splash of Eye Poison

I fell in love with a chain-smoking, grappa drinking, fur-ball looking man. How does this happen you might ask? His sense of humor. Cute. Foreign. Smart. And Greek. HOLLER!

There was a whole community of them and I’m pretty sure they all had the same name and may have even been mixed in with some sort of mafia - maybe that’s what attracted me to him instead?! I have a thing for bad boys! Greek Larry was a blast. He and his friends met myself and my friends out one night and downed some shots, drank bottomless cocktails and took the party back to their house. Turns out Greek Larry lived with his brother - who’s family owned my favorite Greek restaurant.

My friend had already made her move by heading back to his brother’s bedroom and Greek Larry and I started to get busy on the couch. All I could taste was cigarettes in his mouth and decided to start kissing somewhere else - tossing his salad. The excitement got to him and out of nowhere, I felt a stinging sensation in my eyeball -  he came in my EYE! I screamed bloody murder and ran to the bathroom to try and rinse it out. “YOU BASTARD” I yelled.

My friend came running out of the room naked to make sure I wasn’t cut or dead. She fell over laughing because I was crying “Greek Larry blasted my eyeball!!!” I told her to get her clothes and we are leaving. She refused. I sat on the couch, pouted, heard endless apologies and finally forgave him.

The next day, I go to work and couldn’t help but share this experience with my gay best bud and he said that it’s happened to him and that I should keep an “eye” out for any ulcers that may grow from infection. Like as if the poison ejaculated into my eye wasn’t bad enough!! Needless to say, I still have my eyeball, I still eat Greek salads, BUT I refuse to go down on a fully loaded gun.

XoXo Magnum Magnet

Beware of Male Nurses

I recently went out on a date with a male ER nurse. Yes, a Focker. My very own Ben Stiller- nice looking, funny and makes a pretty good income to boot

The date was going well. A late lunch turned into happy hour and dessert. Finally a fun date after a string of duds. As we were walking off the dessert, we came across a Thai Massage Parlor. He said he could use a massage after a rough week. " Let's be spontaneous and get a massage. " OMG'osh...did this sound sleazy? After some hesitation and a lot of convincing on his end, I caved in. We were both led to separate rooms and the whole time Focker Larry kept saying, "Thank you for being such a sport. I really need this right now."

 As I lay there getting worked on, I thought to myself, "Hmmmm..  this is different and what would my mama say?" I quickly shrugged the thought, closed my eyes and tried to relax as much as possible. It is Thai Massage and not Aromatherapy Treatment after all.

My petite Thai masseuse had finished working out the kinks on my body and left the room to give me a  moment to relax and get dressed. After a few minutes, I suddenly felt masculine hands on my shoulders. Shocked, I yelled, " EWWW!! DON'T FRIGGIN TOUCH ME!!" Focker Larry had entered the room. WTF???

I screamed for him to leave. How dare he? I immediately jumped off the table, got dressed and when I left the room the ladies were shocked at all the obscenities spewing out of my mouth. They thought we were a couple and didn't understand. I guess that's a normal occurrence for couples? Seriously?  I was not about to give anyone a "happy ending" at a massage parlor. I have always been hesitant about these places and its just confirmed my suspicions! I can afford my own massage and not get groped by Focker Larry.

Lesson Learned:
-Get a massage from legit places such as Burke Williams, Amadeus Spa, Aida Thibiant, etc.
-Never allow a date to gift you a massage no matter how convincing he may be.
-Male ER nurses are just as creepy as Sleazeball Larrys.

xxoo- The Juggler