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Is It True?

After losing my passport and falling into a dark pit of self-loathing, I did what I always do in dire circumstances: I reconnected with a former fling.

In this particular case, it was my darling Lip Ring. I had been in Auckland and he had been pressuring me to hangout with him.  When he heard the news of my world collapsing (I’m not dramatic at all, I swear) he insisted I come out to the North Shore and have a couple beers, his treat. He rightly assumed that I needed my best friend/worst enemy, alcohol, to help me through the pain. We sat outside, chain smoking and sipping beers.  We chatted about a lot of things, but somehow our conversation got onto Neil Strauss’ The Game and the art of picking up the opposite sex.  I mentioned how intimidating it can also be for women to approach a man and strike up a conversation.
“There’s no reason a woman should be approaching a man in the first place,” he insisted.
“Why not?  How else will she let them know she’s interested?” I pressed.
“If he’s interested, then he’ll make the first move.  Simple as that.”
“So what’s a woman supposed to do to seduce a guy?”
“Make herself attractive, dress sexily and not be fat.”

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!
Of course, this statement launched us into a heated debated, which made for some awesome angry sex later (God, our relationship is dysfunctional.) I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said, but decided to dismiss his views as exclusive to the Dutch and not applicable here in New Zealand. That is, until this week…

My friend Pete had just moved down under and came to visit me. We launched into a similar conversation when I insisted on performing my “Pick-up Rap” for him (yeah, I wrote a rap to pick up guys at the bar and believe me when I say it’s amazing.)
“Yeah, that’s pretty good, but there’s no reason for you to ever use it.”
“Why not?” I asked, “I want to try it out on a guy, I think it would be a great way to break the ice and at least garner a laugh.”
“If a guy is interested, he’ll approach you.  If you have to start the conversation, you’re wasting your time.  Sure, he might go home with you, but he’ll never actually be into you.”
“That CAN’T be true!” I cried, “What about shy guys?”
“Do you really want a shy guy who can’t even muster the courage to speak to you?  Believe me, as a woman, all you need to do is smile, make 5 seconds of eye contact and wait for him to do the rest.”
I refused to believe, even when Pete cited mating in the animal kingdom and how it’s normally the men who must put in the work to attract a partner. Here I was thinking that if I hit on a guy, he would be impressed and find it refreshing.  But apparently I am just coming off as desperate and pathetic.

Still in denial, I decided to test the theory.  During a Tinder rampage while in the city, I had matched with my ideal guy: tall, bearded, tattooed, well-traveled, North American.  We had chatted intermittently, but since I became pretty sheepish about my Tinder tear, I wasn’t really going on the app except to continue our lagging conversation.  He told me to add him to Facebook to chat there.  I did and then did not hear a peep out of him for weeks.
I struggled to come up with a clever and interesting greeting, but settled for something boring and cliche.  Then I waited. And waited.  And waited some more.  He had been online, he had read the message, but he didn’t respond for over two days.  Ashamed, I deleted the conversation history in an effort to pretend it hadn’t happened.  He finally responded after I took the drastic step of deleting him off Facebook, his response was half-hearted.

Who knows why he decided he wasn’t interested, but the fact of the matter was he obviously wasn’t and so he did not pursue me.  Maybe there is something to this claim after all, but it leaves me feeling so helpless.

Can someone shed some light on this for me?  Guys?  Girls?  Anyone?

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What’s the Deal With Blue Balls?

What’s the deal with Blue Balls.  Is it really a “thing”?

I was in high school and having my first real sexual experience with my first real boyfriend.  We started having sex, but I stopped him because it was too painful and uncomfortable.  The words “blue balls” were mentioned and he complained that he felt as if he had been kicked in the balls and went into the bathroom to relieve himself.  The funny thing was I actually felt sorry for him.  Me, the girl whose vagina was throbbing in pain and whose hymen was ripped and bleeding into my panties.  Throughout most of my adult life I have been painfully aware of the “blue balls” phenomenon.  Always careful not to get a man too excited unless I was intending to do something about it.  In fact, I felt guilty if I made out with a guy too passionately, like Shit, I got him all excited, I better have sex with him.

I am now convinced that blue balls is just an excuse peddled by adolescent boys to guilt women into succumbing to intercourse or at the very least, a BJ.  I believe there is a build up in the testicles and that, if unreleased, it could cause some discomfort, but some of these guys act like they’re fucking martyrs.  The fact that little to nothing has been written about it in medical literature reaffirms my beliefs.

Actually, I haven’t heard the words uttered in years.  For some reason I was thinking about it the other day and I nonchalantly asked LipRing.
“Nah, it’s not a real thing,” he insisted.

So now, a few glasses of wine deep I am wondering, “What’s the deal with blue balls?”  Real?  Mythical?

C’mon men, share a little light on the topic.

bloob-allz