February 11, 1992: A Diary Entry

8:30 A.M.

He asked me what I would say if he asked me to marry him.  I almost died.  That is so sweet.  So my romantic side said yes.  The practical side had absolutely no say.  I told him that I’m so scared because I can feel myself falling and I know what it’s leading to.  I said that I was going to love him – I told him that.  It must’ve been the rain that made me talk.  He said he wants to get to know me better still.  Talking about wary.  This thing he wants to talk about so bad in person so he can see my reaction is driving me crazy.  HE brought it up again last night but refuses to tell me over the phone.  However, I got two hints – it’s in his head (which one I’m not quite sure) and he’s had it for a long time and hopefully I can be part of the solution.  I guess that’s kind of three but he thinks he only gave me two.  He wouldn’t tell me what it had to do with ’cause then I’d know what it was – he said.  Does it have to do with sex?  God, and he has to know how dam curious I am.  Maybe he’s uncomfortable ’cause he doesn’t know everything there is to know about the anatomy and the pleasing of a woman.  If it’s something that simple then I’ll laugh.  Hell, I can show him all that.  We don’t even have a chance to see each other until Friday so I have to wait and guess.  He’s so damn stubborn too.  I begged, I pleaded, I threatened to withhold (not in exact words but I believe he got the general idea) but still he would not budge.  I kind of respect that; I wish I were immovable but if certain people look at me in certain ways, I’ll do anything.  Of course Henry’s one of those people but I don’t want him to know yet.

I wonder if I should tell him about my sexual obsession.  Well, he knows about the visual part of it by the stuff I have at my house but I don’t think he has any idea about the physical.  I like sex, a lot.  I’d give up food for sex.  If I had my choice, I’d have sex at least once a day, sometimes more.  The thought sometimes grosses me out but doing it more than makes up for that; I like the skin touching skin, the heavy breathing, the sweating.  But I get this way more so for someone I care about.  The sex is so much better; more personal, more raw.  I let the other person see more of me; know the real me while clothes are striped away and nothing is guarded.  Should I tell him what he’s in for?  I think it’d be only fair.

10:08 A.M.

Just remembered.  I asked Henry what he wants from me.  Help.  That seems to perfect for me.  To mother him, to let him grow and change.  Yet it worries me too.  There will be a point when he won’t need my help anymore and I’ll have to let him go.  But hopefully that won’t be for a while.  I asked if I helped him, could I get what I need from him?  He said yes, probably, most likely, yes.  But what do I need?  Love, caring, someone to be there for me.  I like it when he calls me a little girl and when he says my name.  His voice so deep and smooth.  After I told him that I’m going to love him I got a tight feeling in my chest.  He said he felt “funny.”  I find it interesting that just by saying something or hearing it, it can be measured physically.  Love, or whatever this is now, is wonderful.  More of me wants this so bad than that little part that wants to run.  It’s been two years since I’ve felt this way but now it seems more pure.  I don’t feel nearly as much insecurity or competition.

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Dream Journal: 6/1/11

I’m mad at my mother for moving me to Chicago where I have no friends or job prospects.  She’s smug.  Peggy is there and offers me a job on one of the Weenie Wagons.  It’s raining but warm. All doors are open.  Lawn sprinklers on timer so they’re going even though lawn is soaked.  Sprinkler’s broken.  I keep thinking how sorry I am for having had sex with my mother.  I call her a horrible person which finally angers her.  She turns into a rabbit which I easily trap under a laundry basket.  The whole time I have a horrible feeling that my life sucks.  I reach under the laundry basket.  My mother’s fingers come out but she’s still a bunny.  The bunny bites me and I slam it into the wall.  Outside the back door are a bunch of bugs.  I see my mom with Ruth which means the bunny wasn’t her.  Ruth is proud to show off that my mother now has scales and her back end is a biting reptile.  I keep thinking how truly horrible my life is and then it dawns on me that it might be a bad dream.  I tell myself to wake up.  I do.

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Winning Opening Lines (These Worked)

I get the idea from feedback that the barrage of what amounts to “look how dumb men are” posts is getting old.  I’m sorry.

Not all the men with whom I deal are dummies.  Some of them are not.  Some of them I’ve fucked.  The ones I fuck have passed several levels of scrutiny by the time their penises go inside me.  The first level is, of course the opening line.

For every ten shitty opening lines I get one decent one.  Each one of those doesn’t result in a fucking, but it results in more than my ridicule.

Hi, I like your profile and think you are absolutely gorgeous. And (from what I can read) I think we are looking for the same thing. I’m not into games, but require discretion–hence why i don’t have a profile picture–but if you provide me with an email then i’ll send some pictures so that you can have a look and see if i’m your type. In short, i’m a young, but mature, sporty guy who is (and looks) scandinavian. Hope to hear from you, and explore the prospect of having mutually beneficial fun together. take care, Mark.

Unfortunately, Mark’s profile lacked content.  It said nothing and had no photos; there was nothing that would allow me to determine if I wanted to meet the guy.  I don’t have the time, energy, or motivation to do the work necessary to get the information that would have been included in a good profile.

LOVE your profile. I really appreciate it when people state exactly what they want on here and I appreciate it even more when people are very upfront and blunt about it. I have little patience for the games people play on here myself…

At any rate, I enjoyed reading your profile and I suspect we might get along pretty well.



I not only responded to this guy but we scheduled a time to meet in person.  I went to his neighborhood, which was a hefty bus ride away, and we had a nice conversation over a couple of drinks.  Then we went back to his place that was unfortunately occupied by a roommate he hated and her dreadlocked boyfriend; we left.  We had a pleasant time but nothing earth-shattering.  I don’t think he was any more surprised that I didn’t contact him than I was that he didn’t contact me.

I’ve never come across a profile as direct as yours, I like it! What are you doing this weekend?

This guy and I set up a meeting as well, though it wasn’t for a weekend, when I spend my time with the Viking.  We exchanged numbers and texted to coordinate schedules.  First, we were going to meet on a Friday at a place of his choosing.  Then, he had alternative plan and asked that we reschedule, which we did, to a place of my choosing.  Five hours before we were to meet, he confirmed; all was on.  Finally, a mere 13 minutes before we were to meet, he texted that he couldn’t make it.  I consider that flaking and I let him know.  He no longer has an OkCupid profile.

Hi…you keep coming up in my quiver so I thought I’d take a look….you’re absolutely GORGEOUS. We seem to have quite a bit in common, especially when it comes to sex. I’m very glad to see you’re honest about being here for sex and I’m excited you’d even consider performing anilingus on a partner….that is just incredibly hot….so hi. I’m Steve. Do you really swallow?

I know this would seem like it might be too forward for me to respond, but there must have been something about this guy – probably that he was nice enough to call me gorgeous – and his profile that caused me to respond.  We were both busy for a while so we had to schedule well ahead.  We had settled on a date, time, and place when I got this message:

Sounds excellent. Do you generally like to fuck on a first meeting if all goes well? If so, do you have condoms and lube and all that fun stuff or should I come equipped?

I appreciated that he asked – rather than assumed – about the fucking on the first meeting so I told him as much.  I also answered his question – we wouldn’t be fucking right away.  He didn’t indicate that if we weren’t going to fuck that our meeting was off so I went ahead and showed up on time.

He did not.  I let him know that there’d be no other chance with me.  He no longer has an OkCupid profile.

I had been flaked on twice in less than 18 hours, and those were the guys who’d had good opening lines.

I swear.  True story.

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The One Where I Reply to Criticism

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These types of posts can be funny, although too much can be wearing to read through. The question that it prompts for me however, is whether you are being fair in mocking some of the approaches you are apparently getting.

I mean your OkCupid profile says that you are interested in meeting in person versus chatting online or talking on the phone, but then you ding guys for suggesting a meeting too quickly.

Your profile also mentions that you are interested in casual sex, but you subsequently put down guys who simply follow up on that by suggesting casual sex.

More to the point however, is that I get the impression that you might not be clear on what you are really looking for. I mean, if all you are really interested in is having a good sexual experience, then why should a person’s casualness when it comes to written expression make any difference?

Given your earlier dating habits I can’t imagine that you are as discriminating in person as you tend to be when interacting with people online, or else your attitude has changed recently and you have decided to be more selective about your sexual partners.

Obviously you can do anything you want, and as I said I enjoy reading these sorts of posts. However, I thought you might want to know the impression that it creates in the minds of some readers.

Yeah, they can be wearing to read, which is the fucking point.  I want to illustrate the bullshit I go through (completely by choice, I admit) reading things that are sent my way.  I’m probably not fair,  but I doubt anyone can be completely impartial as everyone comes with baggage.

I take issue with your use of “apparently.”  There is nothing apparently about the messages I receive.  I have repeatedly made clear that I don’t lie, that I don’t have the memory required for lying (without being a complete ‘tard), and that I lack imagination.  I didn’t make any of this shit up, and if I could I would write more than phony OkCupid come-on lines.  I hope.

I am interested in meeting in person.  I don’t ding anyone for wanting to meet “too” quickly, but I do need to plan ahead.  Sometimes I’m already booked two or more weeks out; I’m willing to schedule and chat/message/text in the mean time.  I take issue with the guys who want to meet and fuck on the initial meeting.  I take issue with guys who think that because we’re meeting we’re fucking.  One of the major reasons I want to meet in person rather than chat is because I’ve had plenty of experiences where the guy and I got along online or on the phone (“Seattle Guy“) very well, but then when we met in person it was clear there was no chemistry.  That means we’ll only fuck on the first date if things go very well.

Yeah, I’m interested in casual sex, as in I want to fuck guys without being their girlfriend or burdened by any other form of commitment.  That does not mean I will fuck anyone who is willing to fuck me.  “Casual sex” does not mean “indiscriminate.”  I need to meet the guys in order to figure out if I want to have casual sex with them.  I have a problem with the guys who think because I’m interested in casual sex at all that I must be interested in casual sex with anyone.

I don’t deny that my “standards,” such as they are, seem arbitrary.  From one day to the next what I want may change based on my mood, my whims, the level of idiocy of the messages I get, etc.  Not my hormones, as those don’t fluctuate all that much.  So it is possible that I may not be clear on what it is I’m looking for, other than guys with whom I get along and whom I want to fuck.  It’s both that simple and that complicated.

What is also both simple and complicated is the manner in which I weed guys out.  As a woman willing to have casual sex, I receive a lot of messages from people, mostly men.  I need easy ways to thin the herd.  It could be that they must be at least a certain height.  Or that they have a certain eye color.  I choose that they must use proper grammar and spelling and they can’t have stupid user names, among others.

I would say I’m only pickier insofar as I don’t want to put up with the bullshit I put up with when I wasn’t so picky.  I let some very questionable people into my home, something I’m not willing to do now that I live with someone.  Rest assured, however, that my standards were the same then as now, but then I was more willing to compromise.  I now live with a great guy who will fuck me any time I want so there’s no need for compromise.

Isn’t the Internet nice in that we no longer think we’re the only one to experience anything?

I swear.  True story.

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(Not So) Winning Opening Lines (Again x 8)

Are you not interested in meeting up soon?

I’ve decided I really don’t like it when people seem too familiar with me.  This guy was all of a 34% match with me and he decided that we should meet?

Yea. send me s txt 859 630 8329 and we’ll set up a time to get together, have dinner and see a movie.

A first meeting of dinner and a movie.  Boring as shit.  And cliché.  Having to spend hours with some dude I probably won’t like sounds fucking horrible.  But there was no good reason to meet the guy; our rapport was nonexistent.

come over, fool around and fuck

lay back and let my thick, warm, long tongue lick your pussy while my hand rubs your clit. how does that sound?

I live off grace and halsted, by the ihop in boystown.

Gross!  And what is up with guys on OkCupid giving me their phone numbers and locations?  I assured him that his proposition did not sound good at all.

not interested in meeting up with me and fucking?

Some guys are so fucking clueless.

Love your swallows shirt :) :)

Do any of them actually think that’s original?  I got another message from the same guy.

Dang girl — been reading your questions -
You might be as horny as I am …..
You interested in trading pics ?

Bob’s user name had “fupa” in it.  That makes me think FUPA, fat upper pussy area, which is not a pleasant thought at all.  But Bob’s user name wasn’t his only problem.  He lived in the burbs.  He wanted to trade pictures.  That would mean I would receive shots of a 53-year-old’s saggy balls.  No thanks.

Hiya, I came across your profile on my matches page and well wow, needless to say… very impressive !! I read your profile and for what its worth, your pretty much what I’m looking for…..(ya know, what you can actually pull out of an online profile anyway). So what exactly are you on here looking for…..friend, friend w/ benefits, relationship, or something else ?? Well, I won’t bore you with a long drawn out email here, so I guess check out my profile if you want and see if we click. Hopefully I’ll be getting a message back from you soon !!!

I felt it was my duty to give the little fucker some advice.  “You didn’t really read my profile or you wouldn’t have sent a message that has 1) run-on sentences, 2) the wrong it’s/its AND the wrong your/you’re, and 3) its sender living in any place other than the city of Chicago.”

Haha, I love your profile, but please move “chick or dude and a chick” to the top somewhere so other people don’t experience that disappointing moment of “oh, damn, I’m a just a single dude.” I feel like the referee of fun internet relations just shouted “disqualified!” after I already walked onto the court.

Guys do hate it to be pre-rejected.  I let him know that individual guys were free to apply.  We exchanged FetLife user names.  His profile there was pretty average with a fetish list heavy on anal.  He had a few pictures including a full frontal nude one and some of his tattoo sleeve.  None of the pictures were of high photographic quality.  I let him know that being into all things anal was not all that crazy.

haha, I’m into it both ways, but yes, sadly, it is no longer even remotely unique to be a guy really into ass play.

I have to run from work, but i had a really intense masturbation session involving myself, my fingers, my ass, and eventually, an 8″ thick dildo. Yesterday actually.

How the fuck was I supposed to respond to that?  I like that he was included in his masturbation session – it was nice of him to invite him.  Why would I care what size dildo he had in his ass and when?  I congratulated him, because he seemed to need some sort of acknowledgement.

I swear.  True story.

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February 10, 1992: A Diary Entry


Henry said he’d come over tonight but who knows.  I’ve been trying to call him at work but he phone’s been busy and now I finally got through and some girl answered.  Could have been anyone but no one I wanted to talk to.  He probably won’t call at all tonight and I don’t have any other night free ’cause I start school tomorrow night.  And he makes me so mad.  To think I was going to call to apologize for nagging all the time about him being a flake.  And I’m still hopeful, dammit.  I imagine what it’ll be like when he’s here.  How it will feel to touch him and kiss him and hold him.  Why do I let this happen?  I just want to surrender everything to him and he doesn’t even want it.

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Photo Lotto 12

I like to think I’m not a boob man, but I clearly am, even if I’m not a man (gender).  These lovey breasts would be a whole lot – A WHOLE FUCKING LOT – of fun for play.

Her tits, as well as the rest of her look like a fun.  One would hope that her body not only looks like fun but also that she has a great personality and all that.

But it’s mostly those tits.  Ok, maybe it’s been “too long” since I’ve been able to handle any but my own, but I promise I could have a whole lot of fun ….

Nipples in my mouth.  Face buried between breasts.  Skin smelling warm and clean.

I don’t even want to get into the possibility of what’s inside those pink panties ….

I swear.  True story.

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