Posts Tagged ‘datingisms’

After you hook up with a girl, don’t you wish you could secretly hear how she talks about you to her friends?  Lucky you because I’m about to give you an excerpt from a real conversation:

Julia: So…how was your date last night with Blake?

Diane: Oh it was nice, we met up at this bar downtown and we just caught up on his trip to Aspen.  Then we had sex.

Julia: Yeaaaah? Was it good?

Diane: It was fun, I mean, he’s biiiig.

Julia: Oh shit, like how big?

Diane: Like, I can jack him off with two hands and there’s still plenty of room left for a third hand, or my mouth.  But I didn’t blow him because he’s huge and my jaw was tired from all the talking we did earlier, and I chowed down a big salad.  Hahaha.

Julia: So, he was good?

Diane: I mean, the man has a beautiful penis…when erect.  But he couldn’t stay up the whole time, especially when he was in me.  And so it just became this big floppy sausage swimming in and out of me to the point where it was just chafing my clit instead of stimulating it.  I had to stop it and tell him I was tired.  Went home and watched Youporn instead.

Julia: OMG, what a waste of a big penis.  Sounds familiar though.  I had tree stump penis last weekend.  Remember Scott, my sister’s friend?  Not that he went soft, but he just didn’t know what the fuck to do with it.  All he knew was the porn thrust – you know when you go in-and-out really fast like a fucking dog in heat?  It hurt!  I just wanted him to slow down and take his time penetrating me, but he was fucking like it was a video game.  Like the faster he humped, the more points he’d get or something.  And it’s not like I don’t like rough sex, but I need variety in speed AND positions!

Diane: Ewww, and that’s when you just flip over and sit on his face.  At least his tongue can’t be as violent.

Julia: Um…that’s exactly what I did.  That was a waste of a tree stump.  I miss Magic Dick Danny.

Diane: MAGIC DICK DANNY!  The little engine that could.  He was how small again?

Julia: Well, one-hand-jerk-off without any wiggle room.   So I guess it was more like the one-hand-twist.  But that man knew how to put me in all the right positions to hit my G-spot.  He just knew how to use it and was able to get deep penetration.  I never had to sit on his face.

Diane: He had a magic stick.  I still haven’t found mine.  Did I tell you about the Olympic dick I hooked up with a month ago?

Julia: Olympic dick?

Diane: This guy’s dick was so fucking big and hard that it could probably lift weights.  It was like an Olympic athlete, I was scared out of my mind.  We were hooking up and all of a sudden I feel this hard, fist-like creature poking into my inner thigh.  This thing was so huge that I think it could have gone right through me.  I couldn’t do it girl, I just couldn’t bring myself to ride that beast.  I think it would’ve been the closest pain to child birth.  My arm was tired from jacking it off and I don’t think my mouth could physically open that wide, so I didn’t bother with that either.

Julia: Good call, your teeth would’ve definitely scraped him.

Diane: And I would’ve choked and died.  So I told him I just wanted to cuddle, and he asked if I was a virgin.

Julia: You know what you need?  A grow-er, not a show-er.  So they start off small and sweet, and then they get all big and aggressive while inside you.

Diane: BAM!  Let’s go find me a grow-er.

Julia: Done and done.


I don’t know if it was Ricki Lake who coined the phrase, “It’s not the size of the ocean, it’s the motion of the ocean” on her talk show in the late 90’s, but that’s the moral of the story here.  You could have the best tool in the toolbox, but if you don’t know how to use it, it’s a waste.  There are many ways of stimulating a girl in bed, and the size of your cock takes a backseat to staying hard, manhandling, foreplay, oral sex and dirty talk.

Lately, I’ve been playing around with how our senses affect our dating experience.   There are certainly things that we can’t control, such as our bone structure, natural body odor, and sound of our voice, but then there are somethings we can control.  This week, I want to explore color psychology.

What if you could give off a specific persona, create a mood, or stimulate action by just wearing a certain color?  Sure, a color won’t win over the girl of your dreams or fend off the busted-face-girl at the bar, but look at this way, it can’t hurt.

After doing some research on the Color Theory, I’ve come up with the following cheat sheet:

When you want to be noticed (in a crowded space):

Wear ORANGE – It evokes excitement and enthusiasm.  It’s attention-getting and it’s a color of action, that’s why many websites have the “Buy Now” button in orange.  Orange has also been a color used in therapy to increase energy levels.  Wearing this color will definitely draw attention to you, but you better have the energy and enthusiasm to live up to all the orange hype!

When on a first date:

Wear BLUE – It has a soothing, calming effect.  It evokes a sense of safety, serenity, peacefulness, tranquility, and security.  Blue has been used to soothe illnesses and treat pain.  It’s a great first date color because it’ll calm her nerves and give you the persona of a secure, soothing guy.  First date jitters begone!  And just as an added bonus, blue is the least appetizing color and has often been used in weight loss products.  So, it’ll deter your date from ordering too much food!  Schwing.


Wear GREEN: It has similar effects as wearing BLUE, except it also adds the perception of being healthy and confident.  Additionally, it has been shown that people who work in offices painted green experience less stomachaches.  Eat all the Mexican you want! Ole!

When dating an anorexic girl:

Wear RED: Contrary to popular belief, red is not a sexual color when worn by guys.  It’s intense and threatening, and it makes the heart beat faster (in a stressful way).  But apparently, red makes people feel hungry and that is why many restaurants are painted red.  It is also used to stimulate the body and mind and used in therapy to increase circulation.  Your waif girl will appreciate the increased appetite.

When asking your ex to take you back:

Wear WHITE: It makes you seem pure, innocent and honest.  It’ll bring her guards down and maybe help her forget how shitty you were to her.  Just as a side note, white is a good color to wear on job interviews because it makes you seem dependable and reliable.

When you want to date a supermodel:

Wear BLACK: It’ll make you look powerful and wealthy.  High quality.  High class.  Even if you have $10.83 to your name.


Wear PURPLE: It gives off the perception of wealth, wisdom, and spirituality.

When meeting up with an ex you hate:

Wear YELLOW: It’s the most fatiguing color to the eye and brings about frustration and anger.  It severely stimulates the nerves.  And therefore, she will leave you alone from now on.

Sources: 1 and 2

On a rainy NYC afternoon, my friend Danielle is trying to figure out her “number.”  You know, notches on her belt.  “Does it count if he didn’t cum?” Yes.  “Does it count if it didn’t penetrate ’cause it was floppy?” No.  “Does it count if it was only in for 2 seconds?” Yes.  “Does it count if it totally sucked?”  Unfortunately, yes.  These are the questions we, as women, ask ourselves to figure out what constitutes another notch.  Because the goal is to keep the number low (relatively speaking).  Danielle, 29 years old, calculates her number to be 32 (give or take a drunken night of ‘we might have fucked’).  Disgusted by her relatively high number for her age, she paces around her apartment and asks, “Do you think I should lie about my number if a guy asks?”  Tricky tricky.

There is so much stigma associated with our “number.”  For a guy, we expect your number to be higher (than ours, at least), and it’s almost suspicious if your number is too low.  And for us girls, it seems that if our number is above our age, we’re a certified skank.  I started to really think about this and thought, how is sleeping with lots of people (given you’re using protection) different than sleeping with the same person over and over again?  It’s a matter of frequency vs. unique visitors.  If our number is based on frequency, then the ones regularly fucking their long time boyfriend/girlfriend would have much higher numbers than those sleeping around with different people.  But no, our number is based on unique visitors, which says, society doesn’t care how much sex you’re having, it’s really how many people you’re having sex with.

So for you, as the guy, you don’t care how torn up our vagina is from having lots of sex, but rather, how many other dudes have seen it and tapped it.  It seems a little odd, right?  ‘Cause let’s say Danielle has only had one-night-stands, so she’s only had sex 32 times.  Then, let’s say this other chick Cheryl, same age as Danielle, has been with one guy and they fuck like bunnies.  She’s had sex 5,690 times.  Wouldn’t you rather be with the more in-tact vagina?  Which makes me wonder, is the stigma of our “number” really rooted in men’s territorial nature.  You don’t want to piss at the fire hydrant where many others have taken a piss, too.

But I will also argue that women place the same type of stigma on ourselves.  When our number goes up, it’s a measurement of how many failed relationships (real or attempted) that we’ve had.  Also, it seems that the more people we sleep with, the more unhappy we are.  In a study conducted by two sociologists, female happiness was strongly correlated with sexual stability.  In this NY Times article, it summarizes the findings:

“Among the young people Regnerus and Uecker studied, the happiest women were those with a current sexual partner and only one or two partners in their lifetime. Virgins were almost as happy, though not quite, and then a young woman’s likelihood of depression rose steadily as her number of partners climbed and the present stability of her sex life diminished.”

It makes perfect sense because let me be honest with you here, most men suck in bed at first.  Really amazing sex usually comes from two people being together for a while and they get to know each others’ bodies.  The more sexual partners we have, it implies that the more one-night-stands or short lived fuck buddies we’ve had.  And sex is hardly good with one-night-stands, because both people are selfish.  They each want to get off and don’t care much about their partner.  So what happens?  More bad sex = increased pissiness. “Shit.  I gave it up and it sucked ass.  What a pointless increase in my number.”

What can we takeaway from this? 1) A woman’s “number” is not necessarily a “slut meter.”  2) An unhappy woman has gotten aroouuunnnnnd.

Some of you love talking shit about your ex.  Especially right now, because of Breakup Season.  The wounds are fresh and the claws are out!  But next time you start on a rant about your former flame, really listen to what you’re saying about her.  Ever since Breakup Season started, I’ve had an influx of clients coming to me looking to start dating again.  Of course, every consultation starts with talking about what was lacking in their ex that they MUST have in their potential future mates.  Sometimes I wonder if I’m a dating coach or a therapist (or stand-in girlfriend, even).

What I’ve found interesting is that what people complain about in their ex is often times reflective of their own insecurities, that are in turn projected onto their ex.  Yikes, that sounds like some philosophical bullshit but let me give you my argument.  You’ve all heard, “It takes one to know one.”  It’s true.  What we find lacking in others is what we find lacking in ourselves.  Here are 3 different sessions I recently had with 3 clients (don’t worry, I was given permission to use these stories):

1) Client #1 didn’t trust his ex.  He felt that she was shady, ambiguous about her plans, and had too many guy friends.  He was convinced that she was cheating, even though there was never any evidence.  Going forward, he wants a girl who is trustworthy, transparent, and has less guy friends.  At the end of our one hour session, Client #1 reveals that he cheated on the ex before this one and was hiding his escapades by being shady and ambiguous.  The girl he was cheating with happened to be one of his close girl friends.  Uh huh.  He’s projecting his past adulterous behavior and trust issues onto a girl who may or may not have been cheating.  Who’s the shady one now?

2) Client #2 found his ex unambitious.  She changed her career path 3 times in the 3 years they were dating.  She went from teacher to fashion designer to MFA art student.  Going forward, he wants a girl who is decisively ambitious, with a set career path and successfully climbing the corporate ladder.  Result at the end of our session?  Client #2 has been climbing up the corporate ladder and is extremely unhappy in his career.  He’s projecting his professional discontent on a girl who is searching for a career she will actually enjoy.  Although both of them are on opposite sides of the career spectrum, they’re both at the same place when it comes to dissatisfaction (and need for change).  Hello, wake up call!

3) Client #3 thought his ex was getting fat.  She was skinny and fit and a year later, she was “soft,” as he put it.  Going forward, he wants a girl who is fit and stays fit.  But what was the real deal?  Client #3 was not Mr. Fitness himself, either.  As a former athlete, he put a huge emphasis on girls who worked out but since ending his athletic career, he has totally let himself go.  He is now “soft,” too, with borderline man boobs.  His insecurity about his body and disappointment in his lack of self-discipline has turned into resentment for the ex for letting herself go.  Um, if you expect your girl to be fit and healthy, you gotta trade in the doughnut for some weights, too.

It’s easy to project your own insecurities onto someone else, but when we criticize others, it usually is a criticism on ourselves.

Who knew your ex could bring you so much self awareness?

Written By: Dick Lambert

Diane was a surprising woman. I met her in the back seat of a mutual friends car while we were on the way to a street fair. The topic of conversation lead to sex as it always should when you are the only guy in a car of three females. Pauline and Tammy were teasing Diane to tell me about her special power. I was mighty intrigued and pleaded with Diane to tell me. Diane didn’t need much coaxing as she said to me, “Let me show you instead” as she deftly took off her top and bra in the car. She had small but firm breasts that were defying gravity as she was pretty young. They were like two perfect scoops of vanilla ice cream with the most obnoxious pencil eraser topped nipples I had ever seen. I was looking rather close because it looked like maybe her lusty nipples were pierced at one time. Tammy yelled out do it. Diane squeezed her breasts as I was coming in for closer inspection, then suddenly a white liquid squirted me in the face.  It was breast milk!

I did what countless men before me had done at a much younger age and went to latch right on to the closest nipple. Diane was briefly taken aback by it and playfully told me to stop and proceeded to squirt me in the face again with her double barrel calcium level uppers.  Pauline yelled to stop as Diane was getting it all over the back seat of the car. Diane asked why I didn’t turn away. I explained to her it was natural and delicious. Especially when the tits presented to me were so firm looking and delicious as well.

We flirted throughout the street fair and eventually ended up back in Pauline’s car to fool around in the back seat. I lavished Diane’s magical nipples with a never ending cascade of licks, bits, and sucking. She was happy for the relief as I lapped up her warm boob cocktail. I certainly was hard at work making a milk mustache. Finally, she returned the favor and showed me she had other talents as her mouth milked my cock dry in what was one of the more quicker and intense orgasms I had ever had. She swallowed all of it greedily. She then instructed me to get hard again by tit fucking her with, surprise surprise, her milk acting as a warm lubricant. This was a novel sensation and in no time I was hard again and fucked her in the uncomfortable backseat of Pauline’s car.

We met up with Tammy and Pauline near the food vendors. Pauline took one look at us and said ” You are both assholes. Take my car, get it washed inside and out and return it to me tomorrow. I hate you both.” We did as we were instructed and had another romp before I was in bed after enjoying some warm milk and Diane’s cookie. I slept like a baby that night!

The strange thing was, Diane was not breast feeding and had never had a child.  An unsolved mystery I’m still trying to figure out.

It’s the perfect scenario (based on a true story):  You’re hanging out with your group of friends one day like the norm, and you get a lil’ wasted.  You’re horny, for the 85th time tonight, but too lazy to make a move with the random at the bar.  ‘Cause then you’d have to talk to her, buy her a drink, ask her her name, actually remember her name…blah blah blah.  Too much work.  But shit, you’ve got needs and it’s been a while.  Suddenly, you look across to see your buddy Steph.  You’ve always thought she was cute but damn, tonight she looks hot.  You think, “What did she do differently?  Did she wear a push up bra?  Her skin looks good.  Oh snap, didn’t even notice she’s wearing a skirt.  That’s a hot skirt.  Like a librarian.  Or school girl.”  Then…your eyes meet.  [Cue slow mo and wind-blown hair].   Steph not only looks hot, she’s also in heat.

Your friends start trickling out but a voice inside your head keeps saying, “One more drink.”  Steph sticks around too.  And before you know it, you’re the last two standing.  Your dynamic feels different, more flirty and touchy.  Now it’s getting late and you live so far away.  But Steph?  She lives down the block.  You offer to walk her home, and she asks you to come up for “tea.”

Several “teabags” later, you wake up the next morning and you both realize how awesome this is.  You’re both friends, who love to fuck.  And now, you can fuck each other.  Whenever.  No. Strings. Attached.

But is it?

Friends with benefits always start great, but they never end great.  Here’s a look into Steph’s mind as this scenario progresses:

“OMG, I just had sex with my friend who I’ve always been attracted to, but never thought we’d be here.  In my bed.”

“I feel empowered that I can have ‘no strings attached’ sex with a man and not get all attached and emotional on him.”

“He’s like my boy toy, I just called him at 4am and he came right over.  This is perfect!”

“It would be nice if he stuck around the next morning, but whatever, no strings attached.”

“It’s weird that he doesn’t wanna take me out on at least one date.  I mean, I’m pretty, fun and awesome in bed.  Why doesn’t he want to pursue this a little more?”

“I just texted him to come over and he tells me he’s busy.  Who is he busy with?  Now I feel a little shitty.”

“If he doesn’t respect me and take me seriously, I am going to show him I am not some hussy he can call up whenever he wants.  I’m going to reject him next time.”

“He’s no longer my boy toy, he’s my project.  I’m not sure how I feel about him but I’m going to make sure he likes me.”

“Ok, he’s so not falling for it.  What a dick.  I’m going to warn all my girlfriends about him.  And besides, the sex wasn’t that great anyway.”


See, having a friends-with-benefits relationship plays into our biggest insecurity: having sex with someone who doesn’t want to be with us.  It sounds really empowering at first, but in the end, we cannot separate our heart from our cooch.  Feelings are eventually developed, and if not reciprocated, resentment ensues.  And after that, good luck trying to hook up with any of her hot friends.  EPIC FAIL.

Ahhh, the magic of seasonal dating. A little review, shall we?  When it’s cold, people couple off.  When it’s warm, people split off.  During the winter months, it’s nice to have a consistent warm body.  Also, because of the holidays and the “warm and fuzzies” in the air, it’s more likely that couples think they’re in love.  Then BAM, it starts getting warmer, skirts are getting shorter, people are getting friskier, and there is just an overall sexual energy that permeates the air.  End of March, beginning of April starts the real test for couples, and chances are, the girl you’ve had your eye on may suddenly be single and ready to mingle.

Dating has seasonal patterns and I certainly see it with my business.  Right now, most of my clientele as a dating coach are Born Again Daters, seeking ways to get back into the dating scene.  I also see it with my girlfriends.  Last week alone, I celebrated 3 breakups that should’ve happened way sooner.  Yes ’tis true, Breakup Season has started with a bang (or two).

Breakup Season also equates to Mistake Season.  The most common mistake women (and men) make after a breakup is to sleep with some random.   YOU could be the random!  And there’s no need to play nice and try to stick around.  We, women, need you, the mistake, to remind us that a random fuck won’t help us get over a breakup.  Instead, we need to get our shit together.  So in a twisted, awesome way, you’re doing us a favor.

This Breakup Season, be a hero…by being our mistake.  Capes not necessary.

When I was a Freshman in high school, I dated a compulsive liar.  He told me he won the lottery where he would receive $850/month for the rest of his life.  He had a walk-on role on One Life to Live.  He had cancer but miraculously survived it by smoking cigarettes.  And no, he did not make out with the slutty skater girl who never wore a bra.  But guess what, he was 18, I was 14, I wanted to go to the Senior prom, so shit, I believed everything he said.  Good thing I didn’t give him my V-card!

Now I’m not as stupid (my mom would be so proud) because I’ve learned tested techniques to decipher whether someone is lying or not.  Since people do most of their lying on a first date, use the following steps to evaluate what’s really coming out of her mouth:

1) Get a date who has working eyes.

2) Ask her about her past.  It has to be a simple question that someone would have no problem answering without feeling like they were being judged.  Ex: “What was the name of your first pet?”  “What was it like growing up in ______?”  “What was it like when you first moved here?”  PAY ATTENTION TO HER EYE DIRECTION.  Does she keep looking left or right?  Keep note of it.

3) Ask her to imagine something.  Again, keep it simple and fun.  Ex: “Imagine yourself 5 years from now, what are you up to?”  “Let’s say you’re stranded on a desert island and can only take 3 things, what would you take?”  “If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?”  AGAIN, PAY ATTENTION TO HER EYE DIRECTION (it should be the opposite of #2).  Keep note of it.

4) Ask her some real questions.  This is your chance to test her honesty.  If she keeps looking in the same direction as she did in step #3, she may be lying.  Looking in that direction denotes constructed visual (looking up), auditory (looking side) or internal (looking down) images.  Meaning, she’s making shit up using her imagination.  However, if she looks in the same direction as she did in step #2, she’s telling you remembered visual, auditory or internal images.  Chances are she’s being honest with you, because she’s recalling these images from memory.

Of course this is not 100% effective but I often use this technique on my clients when I first meet them, just to get a sense of whether they’re honest about who they are and what coaching they need from me.  On a date, you can also play Two Truths and a Lie as a fun ice breaker, and more often than not, when telling the one lie, her eye gaze will be in the opposite direction of the two truths.

And if the chick’s got a lazy eye or is cross eyed, check for some verbal and physical cues.

Happy weekend!  Now go call out some motherfuckin’ liars!