October 22

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Flip it and Reverse it in the Man(di) Cave with Pumpkin Spiced Latte (PSL)

Posted by on October 22, 2015 in Randomness, The Lighter Side, The Mandi Cave | 39 Comments

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?

 

catfeetOK but it’s not called “Playing Ball” when we do it. Well, not when I do it. My favorite euphemism thus far is “Jilling Off.” And we totally do it.

 

 

IMG_9048 copyI truly assumed it was common knowledge nowadays that this wasn’t just a man’s sport. I knew a couple once that considered masturbation cheating. Now that’s a friggin’ tragedy.

 

 

 

Chrissy Bio

 

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.

 

 

Mandi Writer CupI 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?)

 

catfeetFor me, as is evidenced by my relationship history that is marred with beautiful broke losers, it’s about the libido first. Then the heart. Then the restraining order.

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.

 

IMG_9048 copyHeart 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.

 

Chrissy Bio

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.

 

 

Mandi Writer CupHeight: I want him taller than I am. Just a personal preference. Not difficult since I’m only 5′ 3″. Unless he’s Tyrion Lannister.

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?

 

catfeetWell, 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.

 

IMG_9048 copy

 

Not interested. AT ALL.

 

 

 

Chrissy BioWrong hole? Like an ear? A nostril? Yeesh.

 

 

 

Mandi Writer Cup

 

Stop sign. You sneaky little bastards.

 

 

What is wrong with men who blog?

 

catfeetNothing that isn’t wrong with men who don’t. They just express it more eloquently. I like men who are good with words.

 

 

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There’s something wrong with men who blog? I love men who blog.

 

 

Chrissy BioI don’t think there’s anything wrong with men who blog, because if there were something wrong with them, there’d have to be something wrong with zee lady bloggers too.

 

 

Mandi Writer Cup

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?

catfeetYes! Silly question. I would appreciate that he had a preference other than black coffee. As long as he doesn’t forget to get my Vanilla Cappuccino Steamer when he goes to get them for us.

 

 

IMG_9048 copy

 

 

Probably not. Unless you’re metrosexual, but I will still judge you. Not a fan of the PSL, or any super sweet hot drink.

 

 

Chrissy BioI 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.

 

 

Mandi Writer Cup

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?

 

Mandi Writer Cup

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.