Flip it and Reverse it in the Man(di) Cave with Pumpkin Spiced Latte (PSL)
It’s that time of the month again. Shut up. I mean, it’s that time of the month for the SisterWives. No we haven’t all migrated to the same cycle. What is wrong with you people?
It’s our turn to answer some questions from our guys who were so gracious and fun to answer our questions on Monday. If you missed it, click here. Seriously, you need a laugh, so go. Then come back and see what we have to say.
Masturbation, a man’s sport, or are women up for playing ball too?
I promise it’s not the wine talking when I say masturbation is an equal opportunity sport for everyone. We all do it…well, most of us, anyway.
I have a theory. Those girls who wear their pearls and cross their legs and say, “I could never . . . ” are the same girls who complain at book club that they can’t have an orgasm. I can’t understand why anyone would not play ball. I mean, it’s satisfying, it’s easy, it’s not messy, and it takes less than a minute most of the time. To the girls who say, “I could never . . .” lemme shoot you straight. You wanna get to the the end of the rainbow we fun girls like to call “The Big O,” you gotta check in at home first. Explore the territory. See what you like, what you dislike, what feels right. Masturbate. Like a boss. Then when Mr. Poindexter is ready for a sweet vanilla romp missionary style, you can maneuver him so that he rocks your world, and in turn, you will his. You’re welcome. Oh and *whispers* keep the pearls on.
When hunting for your perfect partner does size matter (i.e. height, bank account, man parts), or is it really like in all those sappy movies where it’s only about the heart?)
Interesting question, though, because I was so cautious by the time I met my husband I was very practical because enough, already. He turned out to be one of the best men I’ve ever known.
Heart matters big time. So does confidence and sense of humor. Those qualities are the sexiest things ever. Money is a plus, but really stability and security matter more than having 3 lake houses with a guy who’s a douche. Chemistry can overcome physical things that you may have thought were “musts” in a partner. And as far as weiners go? All you really need to know how to do is satisfy a woman in bed. Your tools aren’t as important as your mad-skillz.
Size only matters after all the other shit. Is a big dick awesome? Sure…but what if it’s wielded by an even bigger dick? Money in the bank is great, but what if the guy spends it all on strippers and slot machines? You see what I’m saying? Perspective.
Bank Account: I don’t care about money. I’m not into brands or monetary things. Having said that, it’s not sexy when a guy lives with his mom unless he’s there to take care of her, but if she still washes his underoos, peace out, buddy.
Man Parts: I’m not the kind of girl who would know anything about a guy’s man parts until I know his personality and his sense of humor. If those two things are big, I’m not going to complain. See question one for why.
Wrong hole! Does that mean fun time is over or proceed with caution?
Well, the fun’s not so much over as it just means that you lose a stroke and now your Uncle Gary is probably going to get through the one that has the windmill first, and he’ll have more points and he will most certainly win the last pair of glow in the dark vampire teeth and you will be stuck there, holding your club, while everyone walks by and laughs, like always.
Oh. We aren’t playing miniature golf? My bad.
I do not buy the “wrong hole” excuse, nor do I think that “surprise!” is acceptable foreplay. Aim. Ask permission. Or assume the position.
Not interested. AT ALL.
There’s something wrong with men who blog? I love men who blog.
I can’t think of anything wrong with men who blog. I’ve gotten to meet so many through this series, and all of the ones who’ve had an invite into the cave are some of my favorite men on the internet. (I’m choosy with who comes in the cave.) I find it endearing to read a man’s thoughts, to see the funny and the heartfelt, and to be welcomed into that corner of their minds. So nothing.
Can you be a man who drinks a PSL?
Probably not. Unless you’re metrosexual, but I will still judge you. Not a fan of the PSL, or any super sweet hot drink.
I don’t understand the PSL obsession, mostly because I’m not a fan of coffee with so much fucking milk in it. Bleck. Give me an Americano with a little foam and some cinnamon any day. Men can drink whatever pussy drink they want as long as they own the fuck out of that PSL.
I cannot be a man who drinks a PSL because I have a vagina, so that’s physically impossible, at least at the moment. I can be a woman who chooses against PSL because they stick to the back of my throat and make me want to do that hawking thing that guys do when they fling their snot.
Are PSLs made by sorcerers? Do they turn leprechaun tears of joy into a hot delicious drink? What else could make a PSL so damn delicious?
Have you met Carly? She could make a PSL delicious, but she’s not a sorcerer or a leprechaun. She’s a little rainbow unicorn…
Also, sorry, Jeff, that I didn’t seem to get this question to my SisterWives, so you’re stuck with just my answer unless they want to weigh in down in the comments. I have no idea why it didn’t copy/paste like the rest, and I never went back to check. I’ll buy you a PSL to make up for it and drink a black coffee whilst grabbing my balls while you drink it. Oh wait. Stereotypes, aren’t they a bitch?
So, what are your thoughts? Do you beg to differ? Would you find it repulsive if your very small boyfriend who lives with his mom drank a PSL? Or would that make you want to masterbate? Are you a male who blogs and drinks PSL’s? Would you like to participate in a study? I should stop typing. Hang out with us in the comments and tell us what we got wrong and what we got right.