Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Yes, You Can Get High Through Your Vagina Now (If You Have One)

Hey ladies, ever find yourself relaxing with a little late-night cannabis and suddenly think "Man, you know what would make this even better? Getting high through my vagina."

Well your prayers have been answered.

The Aphrodite Group, a California based medical marijuana collective, has created a lubricant infused with cannabis oil "for her pleasure" called Foria. That's right, we already have weed brownies and weed chocolate so it's only natural we progress to weed lube as well, because nothing says Friday night like some brownies, Netflix and good old fashioned cannabis-soaked clitoris.

A single 30mL bottle runs $88 a pop -- that's about $80 more than your standard CVS version -- and requires a physicians letter to get your hands (or lips) on it.  Granted it's doing a lot more than simply making things slippery.

So what does it do exactly?

According to the website, Foria's blend of cannabis and coconut oil has the ability to "awaken arousal and heighten sensation, making orgasms more intense, fuller, or easier to access." In fact some women they tested the product on claimed to have 15 minute orgasms.



Not only that, the coconut oil -- which acts as the base of the lube -- keeps the pH of the vagina balanced, helping to prevent yeast infections. That's what you call a win win.

Foria contains 2 mg of THC per spray and the recommended serving size is about 6 sprays. The website says it should be applied directly on the clitoris, labia and inside the vagina about 30 minutes before having sex.  Then the magic happens. Don't believe me? Just watch this video from their website.

Did you see those waves? That was a metaphor for holy-crap-this-is-the-best-orgasm-I've-ever-had-in-my life.

Now, please excuse me while I go call my doctor  do something else that I can't explain right now.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

The Only Piece Of Relationship Advice You'll Ever Need (Seriously)

I spend a good portion of my day reading and writing about relationships. More specifically, reading and writing-up psychological studies about relationships. This entails everything from why men cheat, to how porn affects divorce rates, to exactly how many orgasms are women really having (apparently not enough ladies, get with it!).

Anyway all of this "scientific" research (is psychology science? We'll never know) combined with the fact that I live with and interact with humans on a daily basis has led me to consider myself an "expert" on relationships.

Side note: "expert" is in quotations because, come on, we all know relationship experts are a joke. However that will not stop me from imparting my wisdom onto you, my eager and willing audience.

So after dozens of studies read, countless of articles written, a slew of bad dates, thousands of OkCupid messages ignored, tens of thousands of Tinder swipes, and one honest-to-goodness love I can tell you I have found the one piece of dating / relationship / love / marriage advice you will ever need. Here it is:

Don't be a douchebag. 

1. Studies have shown that when a wife falls ill, her husband is more likely to divorce her -- you know because it puts a "stress" on the relationship. But if the husband falls ill, the wife will stick around to take care of him. Don't do this. If your S.O. is sick, help them. Don't be a douchebag. 

2. It is estimated that around 25 to 40% of people cheat on their spouse. Listen, I know views on monogamy are changing (Is it even natural? Did it really play a part in evolution? Why does no one know?!!!) but the reality is, if you made a commitment to be monogamous -- stick to it. Otherwise, don't commit. Don't be a douchebag. 

3. Experts agree that when one person has all the power, the relationship can become toxic -- because duh, one person is deciding everything and the other person feels worthless. Huge douchebag move. Don't do it.

4. If your S.O has friends of the opposite sex, don't get jealous all the time and try to sabotage their platonic relationships. It will force them into an ultimatum between you and them -- and that makes you a mean jelly belly douchebag. 

5. If your partner needs a ride to or from the airport, pick them up. If they need help on a project help them. If they need to complain about their mom listen to them. If they need space give it to them. If they need a hug, comfort them. If they need a shot, pour two. These are common human needs, be there for them, make them feel loved and don't be a douchebag.

6. Studies show that when wives get stuck doing all the housework they're really unhappy (yeah, no shit). In fact there's a phrase for this called "second shift" because women have to work "9 to 5" then come home and do more "work"-- putting them on a 24/7 schedule. So come on folks,  don't be a douchebag, share the labor. 

7. It is also estimated around 40 million people are in a sexless marriage (yikes!). While finding a source for that number is next to impossible, I'm still rewriting it here because, the number doesn't really matter. What matters is, if you aren't having sex with your S.O you're being a douchebag. Either that or your S.O. is a douchebag you don't want to have sex with. Either way someone is being a douchebag. 

8. Don't forget important dates like anniversaries and birthdays. On the flip side don't be that person that's like "OMG it's our sixteen-and-a-half month anniversary," because that's an equally douchebag move.

9. Don't criticize your S.O. all the time! It makes me cringe when I hear couples insult each other in front of other people (not in the joking way, but in the "we're so gonna have a talk about this later way"). You're supposed to be each other's biggest cheerleaders -- so don't be a douchebag, CHEER!

10. Don't lie to your parter. Lying sucks, it makes the person being lied to feel really stupid (trust me, I know). In fact, studies show that when cheaters come clean, their partners are more likely to forgive them. See, a lot of times it's less about the cheating and more about the lying, because once you lie all sense of trust is lost. Which makes you an untrustworthy douchebag and makes the relationship sit on thin ice for the rest of its most-likely-short existence.

11. Don't be mean to other people. Yeah I mean family members, friends, wait staff, bartenders, random other douchebags in bars. Being mean to those people is proof that at some point you can turn on your S.O. and be mean to them too. That makes you a douchebag in sheep's clothing. 

12. Just. Don't. Be. A douchebag. Be a human being. Be kind, considerate, loving and open. Recognize the fact that you chose to enter a relationship (or go on a date, or get married, or whatever). It was a choice you made -- so either enjoy it and be a wonderful, decent human being or get out because frankly you're doing the other person a favor ... saving them from yet another douchebag, YOU!

Thursday, April 3, 2014

The Cold, Hard Truth About Love We’re All Ignoring (Idiots!)

Well, here we are folks, love obsessed Millennials just trying to balance our crazy work lives with finding time for love (#firstworldproblems). Because whether you’re a serial dater, a serial monogamist, a serial one-night-stander or a serial cat-adopter, the concept of love is running your life. Don't lie to yourself, you know "The Notebook" makes you cry.

Indeed, this love obsession permeates through our culture, from movies to books to blogs (oh hey you’re on one) to self-help guides, meet-up groups, bar-hopping, and Pinterest quotes -- we love to love (which encompasses dating, sex, romance and of course jerking off).

But as Millennials, a lot of “experts” (you know those other adults who are older than us) say we’re doing it wrong. Our hook-up culture and propensity to marry later is creating a system where we might have three or four serious relationships before tying the knot, double or triple-digit sex partners and enough OkCupid messages to want to blow our brains out.

And while we’re running around looking for, or trying to hold onto, to this thing called "love" for what could amount to decades … we’re all forgetting the one, cold hard truth no one really talks about:

Once you do find that person you want to be friends with, have sex with and be awesome with all the time (um, that’s like my definition of love) it can only end one way -- you either get married or breakup.

Yeah, that’s it. Go big or go home … alone.

So while imagining what it would be like to have coffee every Sunday morning, or thinking about your destined-to-be awesome Bora Bora honeymoon or growing old and drinking tea on the porch together, chances are this person will break your heart, not say “I do.”

How does this happen? How do we find ourselves so enamored with someone that our hearts feel like they will literally explode (see how I used literally, but it was kind of figuratively) to hating that person more than we hate Justin Bieber? To labeling a box that once read "Our stuff" to “Asshole’s shit” and throwing it out a window?

It probably has something to do with the fact that love is like a drug (seriously drugs hijacked the neural “love pathways” in our brains knowing how awesome they make us feel, so they too could make us feel awesome. Look it up). This euphoric, must-have-you-all-the-time feeling  -- a “high” if you will -- can only last so long. Then we are left with just a person and possibly a broken heart.

So how are we all not just going insane all the time knowing this (maybe we are)? I mean seriously, as humans when we fall in love our hearts are saying “Yes, this is amazing, keep going! He's the one? How could he not be?” And our brains are like, “Whoah, this is great, but let’s keep one eye open huh? P.S. emergency exit to your left.”

Maybe that’s the point. Maybe when love sucks it really sucks. Like gut-wrenching, gauge your eyes out, binge on Netflix sucks. And when it’s great, it’s so great that we all just participate in this crazy charade leading up to it because we want it so badly. Because that's how great it is.

As a cynic who is actually a secret romantic (Shh! don’t tell anyone) all I have to say is that being in love is … well lovely. So fuck logic.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

What Really Makes Someone Attractive? (Bulls**t Answers Not Welcome)

In an age of never-ending diets, new, absurd workout programs, ways to freeze the fat (what?!), bronzers, plastic surgery, and vajazzling I ask myself constantly “What is attractive?”

I use the word "attractive" because of course I mean to the opposite sex. No one is waxing and scrubbing and weight-lifting for themselves (okay, maybe a little for health purposes, maybe) but the truth is we all want to look good because we all to be loved, or get laid, or in simple terms … be as attractive as we think we can be.

A recent beauty survey revealed that men and women have very different views about what physically makes a woman beautiful. Guys chose blonde hair and full lips, like my girl Scarlett Johannssan. While women chose dark hair and a strong nose, a la Natalie Portman. The point being, it was totally opposite. So here we are trying to fit in our box of beauty to please the opposite sex, when in reality we’re totally missing the mark.

To take this point further I was recently out with several friends, when the topic of breasts came up (how could it not?). Three girls and two guys. Naturally when girls start talking about their boobs there are a million things that can be wrong with them: size, shape, smell (er, maybe?), buoyancy, color, yadda yadda. 

At this point the men in the conversation, looking flabbergasted with their jaws firmly on the floor shouted out, “No! No! No! All your boobs are fine!” Adding vigorously, “They are BOOBS.” A light went off in my head, flaws we see in ourselves are still sexy as hell to other people. So why do we beat ourselves up about them?

To explore further I asked male friends of mine, what they find attractive in women. I would assume answers with body parts would pretty much take up the list, but alas this was not the case. Instead I received the following:

“The way their necks smell”, “The way they snuggle into you”, “When they wear your boxers”, “Confidence”, "A good sense of humor is mega points", “I like when girls get all giddy in the morning and try to wake you up”, “Their skin is always so soft”, “They smell nice”, “Rocking red lips”, "A girl who can cook", "A girl who's genuinely interested in what I'm doing", "A little quirky","Face, boobs, body. But as soon as a conversation starts to go my attractions change."

None of these attributes really had anything to do with just looks, but instead were qualities rooted in behavior, spirit and that intangible quality that gives two people chemistry and another two people coals. 

Here's what I'm saying:

Looks are not everything. Looks get you in the door, but they don’t give you the key. I know this to be true. I know that sometimes qualities I find attractive have nothing to do with biceps and dreamy blue eyes (although, those are nice too). 

I love the look of a guy cooking breakfast in the morning, the way guys smell like guys, the ability to wear a hoodie well, talking to their moms on the phone, the way they drive with their knees (my legs are too short to do this), the way they take charge when a restaurant gets your order wrong, the way they walk into a room, the way they love your friends (even if they don’t). These are qualities that are hot.

The truth is when you’re attracted to someone, all of them becomes attractive. The good, the bad and the ugly. It’s like a black hole -- you can’t see it, but no doubt, it will consume you.

So it’s about time we ditch the external stuff and focus on what we do well as ourselves. Ever watch someone in a play and suddenly they’re sexier than before? Or a sporting event? Or giving a stellar speech? Or working a room? Someone in their element is fundamentally attractive (why do you think we love talented famous people so much?).

So if we all focused on what we do best and we try to be the best version of ourselves, rather than changing everything to look like someone created on a computer (ehem, photoshop), then maybe we’d all be a little more beautiful.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Breakup Retrospective: Was It The Parking? (C'mon It's L.A.)

Written by a very special, male, guest blogger who wishes to remain nameless. Don't try to guess, your efforts are fruitless. 

The age old expression "don't sweat the small stuff," while horribly cliched, is something that I've always applied to my life. Day to day existence is always full of minor inconveniences, and seeing the good in people and the world around me has always allowed me to be a happy person. However, after living in LA for roughly 5 years now, the inevitable battle of finding a parking spot and deciphering paragraph long "yes/no/potentially parking if your car is white and has three wheels" signs may have finally gotten to me.

I recently just went through an extremely logical and short breakup discussion with a girl I'd been seeing for about 5 months. We are two career driven, late twenty-year olds, trying to make it in LA. One, myself, an aspiring rocket scientist hoping to pursue a career in the space industry, and her, an aspiring writer, trying to make it in Hollywood. On paper it seems like a dream come true: left and right brain unite for a power couple, yin and yang combine, etc. It was always simple for each of us to brag about the other to our respective work friends.

            Her (to Hollywood friends): "I'm dating a rocket scientist!"

            Me (to fellow engineers): "I'm dating a girl!"

As any scientist knows, what seems like a great idea in theory, never works (at least for the first few times) in reality. Sacrifices have to be made somewhere, and a professional life can easily hamper ones personal life. To add to the general ridiculousness of this situation, I'm a Canadian citizen trying to get a job in an industry that is a) losing funding at an alarming rate and b) thinks that I am a terrorist since I'm from the tundra up north eh. Most couples generally don't have to deal with the fact that if one person doesn't get a job immediately after graduation, they could get deported back to Canada. But hey, deportation is just a free trip home, right?

On her side, trying to make it in Hollywood can mean taking whatever job comes your way, even if it's in Mississippi, or New York. So for the 5 months we were "dating" we didn't get to hang out very much. We tried to make the best of our limited time together; what else was there to do? However, with my upcoming thesis deadline, and her continuing search for a job, neither one of us were really able to give the relationship the time and energy it deserved, and so we decided to end it. A breakup based on logical and logistical reasons. However, one small thing still nags at me. Was it the parking?

Every time I went to her place, parking was nearly impossible to find. Too much time driving in circles, to then end up walking a mile to her apartment complex. While a seemingly minor thing, this would always negatively affect my mood right before seeing her. Being unhappy right before seeing the person you're supposed to be excited to see must take some toll on the mind at a subconscious level. Was this enough to let logic defeat the love conquers all attitude that I've learned from so many movies? I'll never know, but at least I never got a ticket.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

I Baked Pie From Scratch And No One Died. Also I Learned The Joy Of Giving.

I baked a pie from scratch. 

Okay, did everyone stop laughing yet? Great. It’s true though; I used my Mammaw’s southern style recipe from a million years ago (she was very old, God rest her sweet soul) and crafted a delicious pecan pie. Of course I can’t actually say if it was delicious I gave it away as a present. So who knows?

The point is, I had an awesome time doing it. I’ve never been a chef or anything, I think more for lack of time than any disdain of cooking. But I’ve got to say, Saturday (the day I spent baking cookies and pies) was one of the best days ever. And here's why:

Because I was making the pie for two friends as a “thank you for being so awesome” present I felt a sense of joy the entire time. From the get go this pie meant something. When I was buying the ingredients I bought the more expensive pecans, the better butter, the brand name sugar. Okay, my flour was Kroger, but it’s one teaspoon in the recipe, give me a break. Regardless, shit got real is what I’m saying. Every ingredient that went into the pie needed to be as amazing as my friends who would eat it. I even toasted the pecans before adding them to the pie. The recipe listed it as merely a suggestion you guys, but I did it. I toasted them!

Then, the magical moment came and I baked the pie. Pecan pies are pretty hard to bake because you can’t really tell when they’re done. In fact, after nearly an hour I called my mom every five minutes to update her and desperately ask for guidance. Each phone call went like this:
“Okay mom, the pie is still jiggly.”
“How jiggly.” She’d ask (she’s an expert).
“Pretty jiggly.” I said.
“Well put it in a few more minutes. But it’s supposed to be jiggly. Just not toooo jiggly. Whatever you do don't overcook it.” AHHHH!!!!
“Well how much jiggle is too much jiggle?” I started to panic. What kind of word is jiggle anyway?
“Just, you’ll know.” 

It wasn’t about the jiggle though. It was about not wanting to ruin the present I was making for my friends during this holiday season and then have to make them another pie that said “Sorry about the first pie and your subsequent food poisoning.”

Eventually, I figured it out. And all was right in the world. In fact, I had so much fun with the pie and feeling all warm and fuzzy inside that I continued baking for the rest of the day. I made some bomb peanut butter cookies and gave those away too. Because that’s what the holidays are about – making your friends fat while you secretly work out double.

This is my cookie selfie. Proof I was in the kitchen.
Kidding. It’s about the fact that doing things for other people also brings joy to yourself. So we should all do it a little bit more.

So that's my lesson to all of you. Go bake. Go make something for a loved one. Go write a letter. Or a card. Or anything that comes from the heart. Because it means so much more than another iTunes gift card.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

I Am A Woman, Not A Toy

I am a woman, not a toy. Please read that sentence carefully and try to grasp its meaning completely. I am a woman not a toy. Period. 

You do not own me. I am not here simply for your amusement. You cannot tie a string around me and drag me along. You cannot put me in a chest until you decide I am worthy to come out and play. You did not purchase me. There is no manufacturer’s warranty or guarantee. You cannot brand me. I am not yours.

You cannot stick me on a shelf and simply ask me to look pretty. You cannot take my batteries out when I annoy you. Or I am talking too much. Or being too smart. I am not an inanimate object devoid of feelings or opinions. And you cannot trade me in for a different model, when I am no longer shiny and new.

Because I am a woman, not a toy – my presence means you earned it. You did not buy me with fancy dinners, new clothes, and expensive wine. You did not guilt me into it. Or threaten me. I came because you earned it. You earned it by being a decent human being and understanding that a toy, is not something you are interested in. And I am NOT a toy.

We, society, America, whatever you want to call it are inundated on a daily basis with female sexuality. And it’s a beautiful thing. I think women are beautiful and sexy and amazing. I love watching Victoria’s Secret commercials because I think they are empowering. Not that every woman needs to be a size 0 – but those women ARE beautiful and they own that beauty, a beauty which should be celebrated. As a female I can appreciate that and aspire to own my own beauty like that.

But I think men, watching those same commercials, seeing those same billboards, reveling in the saturated market of naked women around them at all times forget that women were not put on this planet to simply be seen and not heard. And I think, when women measure their self worth based on how MEN view them, they lose sight of that same fact. 

That said, just because I put on a tight dress and five-inch heels does not mean you can slap my ass. Just because I show it off, does not make it yours. Because again I am not a toy. This is not an Apple store where you get to poke and prod and then never buy.

You have to earn it. Just as I would have to earn you.