Let's talk about sluts, baby.

Recently a co-worker’s daughter was confiding in me about her most recent one night stand.  I say “most recent” because this was not the first time she had slept with someone she barely knew (or met that evening).

Considering most of you reading this are probably in your 20s or 30s, this is not breaking news.  I’m sure a good percentage of you banged a stranger last weekend and only reflected on it briefly while sneaking out of their apartment, but what if I told you she was still in high school? Does that make a difference?  What if she was a he?  Would that affect your opinion of this person?

This got me thinking… Is she a slut?  What makes someone an actual “slut” as opposed to just being called one as a term of endearment when being greeted by your best friend?

Let’s start out by exploring what the word means or in other words, lets talk about sluts, baby…

Sluts, skanks, whores, tramps, ho-bags…there is no shortage on variations of the word, but regardless of how extensive your vocabulary is, they are all essentially slang for the same word: promiscuous.

The definition of promiscuity is literally “The practice of having casual sex frequently with different partners or being indiscriminate in the choice of sexual partners.” The definition of the word slut is “A term applied to an individual who is considered to have loose sexual morals or who is sexually promiscuous.” By definition, if you are going to sleep with lots of people then you are promiscuous (aka a slut).

So if it walks like a duck and it talks like a duck then it’s a slut just like if you are going to eat meat, you are a carnivore, right? It should be that simple, but it’s not.  People hate to be labeled (unless they are vegan, a cross-fitter, or a vegan cross-fitter) so generally even stating the obvious pisses people off. When that label refers to you having loose (sexual) morals, you aren’t printing up t-shirts baring it any time soon.

But what actually makes someone a slut? Is the amount of people you have had sex with? What if Jane has been with 15 men, but it was over the course of 20 years where as Becky was a virgin, but she blew the entire Patriots football team after the Super Bowl? Jane had meaningful relationships with each of her numbers while Becky has lockjaw. Who would you rather bring home to meet grandma and share stories around the Thanksgiving table?

Clearly, numbers don’t seem to be the end-all be-all here.

Perhaps a slut is defined solely by reputation. The more people know about your sex life, they more likely they are to use the word to describe you.  If it’s a mystery how many times you have taken the train to pound town, the word may serve no purpose. Like a proverbial tree in the forest falling, does a slut only make a sound if people are around to hear it?

Maybe being considered one is more circumstantial. What if Jenny has only been with 8 guys her entire life, but they were all at once during an alcohol induced spring break back in ‘05? What if Erin banged some guy (whose name she couldn’t remember) in his car 20 minutes after she met him? Is either one of these girls more of a slut than the others? 

How about if Jane and Becky were John and Brian? I’m willing to bet this wouldn’t even be a discussion. Most would praise them for their sexual conquests although I personally have met plenty of guys I wouldn’t bang with a stranger’s vagina. I still refer to them as sluts, probably more often than I have ever referred to a woman as one.

I once had a roommate whose bedroom had a revolving door. When I referred to him as slutty one time, he said he wasn’t slutty but “sexually promiscuous.”  That’s like me saying, “I’m not short. I’m vertically challenged.” Regardless of how you choose to phrase it, we all know what you mean.

If being called a slut offends you, you may want to ask yourself why that is instead of leading a crusade on political correctness regarding bedroom behavior. At the end of the day it’s just another word which will only have as much power as you choose to let it. I say if the shoe fits, wear that slutty sandal proudly or keep it in your pants.

Ri-dic-pic-ulous

It was turning out to be a perfect day.

My morning meeting had been cancelled leaving my afternoon completely open to grab a bite with my mom, and there are few things in this world more glorious than a (screaming) child free brunch during the work week. Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy chugging cocktails on Sunday Funday like I’m at a frat party, but sipping them without a standing audience giving me the stink eye is nothing short of magical.

My mom and I were chatting about which member of our family is more insane when my phone alerted me that I had a message.  I figured it might be work related so I reached down to check, hoping I wasn’t going to have to cut my meal short.  “Oh thank God,” I thought, “It’s just a message from (let’s go ahead and call him) John.”

As I went to click on the message to respond that I was at brunch (and would call him after), I noticed it wasn’t a text at all but rather a picture…an extremely close-up picture…of his erect penis.

I damn near spit my Bloody Mary directly into my mother’s face. Are you serious? It’s not even noon! Can’t a girl enjoy her plate of bacon without a side of sausage?

Now just to clarify, John and I were not romantically involved nor had we ever been romantically involved. I had never even been hammered and thought about touching his penis so what brought upon this unprovoked sext?

I needed answers so, of course, I showed the picture to any of my closest female friends willing to look and asked how, if at all, I should respond.  As it turns out, I was not the only one to have their eyes physically violated lately.  As a matter of fact, each of my friends had entire photo files which apparently received new entries often.

Sexting is not a new concept by any means. Most women could dig up an old sidekick with a couple of pixelated pictures of penises (say that five times fast), but they were most likely collected for collateral…more of a “If my boobs end up online, I’m passing out flyers of your limp dick, buddy” situation.  However, it seems if you are a single woman in 2015, you are probably receiving more pictures of wieners than Ulta coupons in the mail.

After a serious discussion about the origin of the dick picture and it’s current standing in modern day society, we came up with a few possible reasons as to what brought upon this sudden surge of confidence in men…

Perhaps there was an article in Maxim responsible for all these shots of balls before breakfast.  Something along the lines of, “Give her what she really wants this Valentine’s Day.” If women read Cosmo and are willing to try awful sex tip #72615, there is a possibility men are eager to follow the same shitty advice.  

Could it be sending pictures of your penis is the new way of saying, “Hey. I’ve been thinking about you,” but in a more graphic/less romantic way?  Maybe morning wood has replaced the good morning text, and us ladies didn’t get the memo.

Another possible reason may just be some sort of guy logic pertaining to the whole situation. “If I send her a picture of my dick, she will send me a picture of her boobs.” An eye for an eye or a nude for a nude if you will. Guys, if this is your go to strategy, google “supply and demand,” and be prepared to be disappointed.

I’m thinking maybe there was one girl who told the guy she was dating that sending a picture of your penis to a female is the highest form of flattery. “Don’t bother telling her how beautiful she is when you can show her via your raging boner.”

I’m willing to bet she is the same girl who started the “all girls love anal” rumor.  

Hey woman, shut up already.

Whatever the case may be, unless a female specifically asks you for one, you may want to hold off on sending her a picture of your genitals…especially if she has not met them in person. If you want everyone to become besties, the first encounter should not be at an awkward angle in your dirty bathroom either. That shit is just ri-dic-pic-ulous.

New Year, new you. At least for a full week.

It's a new year, and right about now we will all begin our resolutions. The gym will be packed for several weeks until they are broken, much like my hopes and dreams of being arm pit fat free…

Every year on January first so many of us vow to do or not do certain things anymore so I thought I would try to make our goals and aspirations a bit more realistic.  As my belated holiday gift to you, I present some New Year’s Resolutions you may actually be able to keep…

In 2015, vow to get it on a little more. Sex releases dopamine which is your body’s natural way of getting happy, and happy people aren’t assholes so bang your significant other, bang your neighbor, bang yourself! Just get busy, and stop being such a dick.

What is the number one resolution of all time? Lose weight/eat better.  Let’s be realistic here... I personally, have already polished off a cheesecake left over from my New Year’s Party.  If you are anything like me, you may want to start out small by consuming more fruits and veggies so why not drink a Bloody Mary? It’s full of tomatoes and celery. Wine = grapes. I also hear there is a potato in every beer. You’re welcome.

If you are anything like me, you’ll dream all day about getting home so you can sleep but instead stay up half the night falling down the YouTube rabbit hole. (I’ve seen some things, man. I’ve seen some things.) This year, vow to get more sleep and take more naps so people stop asking you if you are getting sick (which we all know is code for, "Which hole did you crawl out of this morning?") Good news though, passing out still counts as sleep, technically.

Ladies, this year let’s vow to shave our legs, even in the winter…or at least during the other 3 seasons…ok fine, throughout summer only. Just when we are going to be wearing shorts or a skirt. From the knee down. Fuck it. Wear more yoga pants. Ladies, this year let’s wear more yoga pants. 

Now is the perfect time to ditch everyone in your life that has become a pain in the ass. I don’t care if you are 20 years old. Don’t bother waiting until you are 30, and you feel like the emotional equivalent of a meth addict’s face. If they suck now, they will suck in ten years…unless they actually suck in which case, fellas, maybe you want to keep them around for that purpose.

Another popular resolution is “save more money.” How about we all agree to stop buying shit we don’t need with money we don’t have unless it’s something really special because you absolutely need a life size cut out of Daryl Dixon.  If anyone tells you otherwise, you get rid of that person because you don’t need that kind of negatively in your life, remember?

One thing a lot of us need to stop doing is leaving our credit cards at bars. I know what you are thinking…perhaps “drinking less” should be the resolution here, but don’t be ridiculous.  How else am I going to get my daily-recommended servings of fruit and vegetables?