ManScaping

Manscaping is an accepted practice these days. If we men expect a woman to be "neatly groomed," surely we must return the favor. Most of us start with scissors, get a little deeper with an electric razor, then move on to a regular razor.  Every so often, we get lazy and look for hair removal supplements. 

Whatever your method, shaving your man bits is a common...and appreciated...courtesy. 

Does anyone else see the irony in growing older and getting hair where you don't want it, but losing it where you do want it?  I sure do. 

I decided to take the plunge and buy some Veet, as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly successful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a romantic, I thought I would do the deed on my lady's birthday as a bit of a treat. 

I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise, I went to the bathroom. Initially, all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen. I didn’t have long to wait. 

 

At first, there was a gentle warmth which, in a matter of seconds, was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as if I were  being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on sawing me in half.  Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night, but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around my colonic canal and what seemed like the the destruction of my frank and beans.  

Struggling not to bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel off in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. 

Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen, by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief. I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of vanilla ice cream, tore the lid off and positioned it under me. For those who know me, all sorts of sick jokes about making my own fudge sundae were running through my head, but the pain was replaced by genuine fear that I might live out a slightly darker version of a Seinfeld episode (the one with the guy who "fell" onto Fusili Jerry). 

But my attention soon turned back to the task at hand. 

 The relief was fantastic but only temporary, as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing returned. 

Due to the shape of the ice cream tub, I hadn’t managed to give my starfish any treatment and I groped around in the drawer for something else, as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon. I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so. I took a handful of them and an tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing the trick, as some of the gel had found its way up the chutney channel and it felt like I had a rocket booster in my butt.

This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen, which should give you some idea of the depths to which  I was willing to sink in order to ease the pain. The only solution my pain-crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before.

Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen,  my lady chose that exact moment to come and investigate.  She was greeted by the sight of me, butt cheeks in the air, vanilla ice cream dripping from my bell end, pushing a sprout between my cheeks, while muttering “ooooohhh, that's the spot.”

Understandably, this was a surprise to her, but more surprising was her blurting out "you started without me?"  

Since I hadn’t heard her come in, it caused an involuntary spasm of shock to me, which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction. She quickly realized I wasn't being kinky. 

I can understand that having a sprout fired against your leg at high velocity at 3am  wasn’t the special surprise she was expecting.  Having to explain to her the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was, didn’t improve my status. 

Fortunately, she was in the medical field and promptly rendered treatment. In between her laughs, she politely said to me, "you know, you didn't have much to trim in the first place. Why did you bother?" 

To sum it up, VEET removes hair effectively, but your sex life...and dignity...will suffer a blow.  And not in a good way. 

Why Men Stare

We've seen you out and about. We all have. Your Facebook shows you checking into all the local Hamster Hideouts with great regularity. On Facebook, your life is that of an urban Princess, where your body is perfect, your drinks are free and you're living the highlife. You're at a pool party doing the EDC thing in Vegas on Saturday, on Sunday you're at Avec (it's pronounced "uh veck," not Aaay-vec" by the way, Hamsters. It's French.  Look it up.) and on Monday, you're posting about your day job, trying to show us how you balance your "professional life" with your personal life.

Tell me, urban Princess, if you're life is so grand, how the heck do you have time for Facebook at all?

I had this friend who was a Hamster by almost every definition of the word. She was 37, but looked maybe 35, had a menial job, lived at home. Although she did contribute to the rent, she spent her money on a BMW 3 series, some nice accessories and all the normal Hamster wear. i.e. the skin tight dress, an augmentation surgery, Loubotin shoes, etc. Whenever we went out, her bra looked like it was stuffed with water balloons, leaving almost nothing to one's imagination except perhaps, the name of her plastic surgeon.

She was on a mission to find "the one." What was her criteria? He had to be a doctor, lawyer or similar, had to dress a certain way, have the physique of a Greek God and had to be under 40. Mind you, this gal was average looking at best...and I'm being generous. Politely, I asked her what she "brought to the party."  Her assertion was simple: "I'm a good catch."

She tended to date bad boys, then wondered why they broke her heart. She had an episode where she had to sneak out of the boyfriend's house because his live-in girlfriend showed up, had another issue where she was dating a doctor who never made time for her...because he was married...and another instance where she was dating a military guy, yet chose to "keep her options open" while he was overseas.

Her Facebook was a wild adventure of parties, panties and a parade of bars, clubs and lounges in multiple area codes.

We all know someone like that. She's the girl who goes to the fanciest places in town for "GNO" (Girls Night Out.) She pretends that she doesn't want to be hit on because this is "girl time." Guys get annoyed by this, largely because of the way she's dressed and accessorized. We think that such a woman doesn't get dressed to the nines to impress her girlfriends. We think she gets dressed up to attract the men, pure and simple. In fact, some men still think that girls who are single and dress provocatively absolutely want to be hit on no matter what, so long as the guy is smoking hot.

Perhaps she's genuinely wrapped up intriguing conversation about the new Louis Vuitton line or whatever it is Hamsters talk about, but when Mr. Super Stud enters her line of sight, you can bet she's hoping he'll come introduce himself. Or so it seems.

In reality, maybe that's not the case, but we men are simply not that smart.

You see, we can't tell the difference between a Hamster and a well-dressed normal woman when she's adorned in Hamster wear. We men ask ourselves why she's wearing that low cut dress with enough cleavage exposed to make nursing infants salivate. We're all well aware of her augmentation surgery and we're all very happy for her. But she gets mad at us when men's eyes stray downward. If she didn't want us staring, why is she putting "the girls" on display?

Most men think that if she dresses trashy, she's asking to be hit on. Neanderthal as that line of thinking is, men are conditioned to think this way.

Most men can appreciate a woman who dresses well. There just seems to be a bit of hypocrisy in some women who dress provocatively, yet they condemn others for doing the same and more importantly, the mixed signals they send tend to confuse us.

Before some women take offense to my assertions, be advised that I'm in no way condemning such a woman's actions. In fact, I salute her zeal for life, her attention to fashion and her support of the blossoming plastic surgery industry in Orange County, California.

But there's a dark secret that we men aren't telling women: to some men, these women may be viewed as accessories themselves because they've been judged solely on the way they dress in public.

That's a shame, too, because men sometimes judge too quickly. In my circle of male friends, there seems to be a consensus about Asian women in South Orange County. As a friend put it (and I'm translating into more politically correct terms here), some men believe that all Asian women "have the same look." He didn't mean to imply that they all look the same, just that they are difficult to spot the "different" ones when he goes out.

He asserted that his perception is that many women from SE Asia were born predisposed to lean body mass, and while this might be an attribute in the eyes of some men, by no means did these women do anything to achieve it.  Furthermore, an augmentation surgery, while certainly helpful in providing a woman more reasonable proportions, in no way acts as a testament to a woman's workout regimen.  Put bluntly, he felt that most Asian women "can be replicated."

His point was that when women dress a certain way, the men that hit on them are not marriage minded....or perhaps not even relationship minded. Putting out the vibe that a woman wants to be evaluated purely on her physical appearance attracts the wrong type of man and his assertion that women who dress that way are indeed putting out such a vibe.

Taking it a step further, he believes that such men who find these women attractive are judging on the wrong criteria themselves.

I don't think I agree unilaterally, but I can understand that line of thinking. Just as I was digesting that, it occurred to me that maybe when he said "some men," he meant me.

Cue a long weekend of self reflection.

I told myself I prefer younger women, largely because I find their energy, their daily life, their active lifestyle and their youthful exuberance invigorating. A bigger part of the story might just be that I need to have some strong physical attraction for a woman, or I can't make a go of it.

But I've dated all sorts of sizes and shapes of women, and while I generally prefer lean, I have no real preference for augmented women...nor do I discriminate. For me, it's about hair, eyes and the smile....most other physical attributes are what they are. So long as they as smart, have character, integrity, treat others with love, have a little religion in their life and are good people.

The women I admire and desire the most may or may not have had plastic surgery, but she dresses and acts in accordance with more honorable values and traits. Those are the women I want to talk to and meet....but I'll never approach them on their "girls' night out."

Being in the online dating world is a special challenge, as "Hamster-ness," is all too prevalent on most dating sites. If you've never logged on to a dating site, do so if for no other reason than morbid curiosity. There are grown women posting pictures of themselves in their underwear.  Still others go to great lengths to ensure the camera angle captures their store-bought cleavage. I wouldn't contact any of them...but they often contact me.

Of greater concern is the message that dressing provocatively sends to other women. I have several friends who are not a slender, tiny 100 lbs wearing size zero clothes with C or D cups, yet I still think they're very attractive, not just because of how they look, but because of their attitude. Some of these non-size zero women seem to be a little down on themselves, largely because everyone and everything around them tells them that being a tiny, Asian Barbie doll is the only way to live.

While many of the ladies who dress provocatively actually have something more going for them: an education, a real career and a good handle on their finances, their choices have a profound affect on the men and women around them.

For starters, in South Orange County, there are literally thousands of pretty women who have the same plastic surgeon, the same designer labels and wear the same makeup these women do. Is it not more about what's on the inside than what you display outside? Obviously, I'm not suggesting women start wearing hoodies and sweats to Anqi, I'm merely suggesting that wrapping a pretty or even average woman up in super sexy attire makes it very difficult to showcase the woman inside.

I'm not smart enough to figure it out, so I simply don't approach women at bars or lounges. Still, I remain focused on finding someone who is a balance of beauty, class and sophistication on the inside as well as on the outside.

A female friend of mine once said "it doesn't matter how great I am inside. If I can't attract a man with what's on the outside, he'll never get to see my inside."  Some men might assert that when a woman dresses a certain way, the man is dying to get inside you....but not in an honorable way.

So my ladies, if you see a man staring at you the next time you're out with the girls, please remember that not all of us are trying to visualize you naked: some of us are just trying to figure you out.

What is a Hamster?

Urban Dictionary uses "Hamster" as an acronym used to describe a young female who has one or more meaningless jobs. These jobs typically start with the letters H,A,M,S,T,E and R, but on some occasions may also fall outside of specified range. Said job(s) may also be the woman's elected long term vocation. Most popular HAMSTER jobs include but are not limited to the following:

H = hairstylist, hostess

A = actress, assistant

M = model, musician, mixologist

S = stripper, secretary

T = technician (nail, skin, etc.), teller

E = entertainer, exotic dancer

R = receptionist, runaway

In short, a Hamster is a woman who has little to offer other than her looks, yet seeks men based solely on their physique or financial status. 

False Advertising or Unrealistic Expectations?

I've been meaning to pen this post for awhile, but I'm always reluctant to appear jaded. As much as I joke around, I'm concerned that my posts might appear misogynistic. As long as we can all agree that everything I write about women can probably apply to men too, then I'll continue on. This is the spirit in which I author these posts and if you're thinking that I've become cynical, jaded or intolerant, you'd be only partially correct. In reality, I'm fed up.

In any case, one of my pet peeves is women (or men) who blatantly misrepresent themselves online. Anyone who's dated online knows that men lie about their height, weight, age or other things, but so too do women.

To combat this, I wrote my profile in such a way that I was very clear what I was looking for: someone professional, classy, a college graduate, Asian and height/weight proportionate.

I'm getting tons of replies and I've screened the ones that are too young, too old (older than I am), or don't match any of my other criteria. I've had plenty of insane experiences (as documented here) but I haven't written about the ones that are just disappointments, largely because none of these women made it past the first date.  In fact, some of them don't make it past the first phone call. 

Every once in awhile, I take a chance on one that seems a bit outside my comfort zone. Despite my experiences, I still believe in giving the benefit of the doubt, despite some early red flags. I got roped into a date with a woman who was too young, was clearly a Hamster and the only thing in common we shared was our fascination with her, um, blouse size. I knew going in that this one wasn't a match and in reality, there are tons of clues that what you're getting is not what's being represented, if you simply pay attention.

For example: I'm always suspect when a woman asks to meet me at a dark restaurant and shows up wearing black.  Black attire on a first date to me screams "pastry smuggler"....she's hiding her rolls. Asking for a meetup at a dark restaurant is a pretty good sign that she knows she looks best in muted light. Take her outside into the light of day and be prepared for an encounter with a Sea Donkey.

I'm not saying that I'm Brad Pitt, nor am I expecting Megan Fox to pick me online. Still, if a woman's pictures portray her as slender, of silky smooth complexion and showoff some stellar cleavage, that's what I expect to see when we meet up.  I'm not saying that any of those things are my requirements. Candidly, I'm drawn to long hair, pretty eyes and a sexy smile. I've dated women who were slender, had a few extra pounds, some with cleavage, some without. My core requirements are more about her inner beauty than her outward appearance...within reason.

By the same token, I've dated some women who were fairly attractive on the outside, but were dysfunctional, sociopathic, materialistic, narcissists on the inside.

I know most people assume that men my age want to date 25 year old hot co-eds and perhaps deep down, I'm trying to stay close to that. That is not the case at all. I just want the woman in the pictures to match what her online profile says.

Just once, I'd like to read a profile like this: "Self absorbed narcissist who is mildly good looking, surgically enhanced and commitment-phobic, seeking a deaf, mute, billionaire with a bodyguard physique and a terminal illness. Must be willing to sign a one-way prenup benefitting me and be willing to support me in the lifestyle I think I deserve."  It sure would be a more accurate description, at least of one of my ex's.

Being in Marketing, I can appreciate the notion of highlighting your best attributes. Hell, I'm the King of Spin when it comes to certain things so I can appreciate the irony here. My point is that the dating process is time consuming...and expensive.  The ladies don't care because I never see them reaching for the check...they get a free meal out of it and I'm totally ok with that. Money isn't the issue, it's time, and my time is far more valuable to me than it apparently is to some of these ladies.

Telling somebody you're something you're not becomes readily apparent sooner than you think. A woman who tells me she's a Christian yet treats her parents like peasants is not a good Christian. The behaviorial tells take longer to discover than misrepresented photos, though.

I can highlight many examples of dating experiences where the woman in the photos simply didn't look anything like the woman who showed up on the date.  Fine. Maybe it was photoshopped or maybe some people look better on camera than in real life. It's kind of like the hamburgers you see in commercials: I know darn well that when I peel back the buns and look at the meat, it's not going to look anything like the picture and the lettuce will be old and wilted...I get it...I'm in marketing.

For the record, I'm ok with push up bras, false eyelashes, high heels, support panty hose, whatever. If my patent for inflatable men's underwear gets approved, we men can play that game too. That's not the issue.

The issue is simply this: if you're trying to find a good match online, it is in everyone's best interests to be as accurate as possible in your description of who you are.  You may not need to disclose every personal detail about your life in cyberspace, but you should at least be a fair representation of what your present.  Telling someone you're "college educated" when really you mean "cosmetology school" educated is not being accurate. Surely such a woman knows that any intelligent man will grow tired of you in a short period of time, unless of course, he's just dating you based on your looks.

That brings up another topic: appearances.  I've had women show up on both end of extremes on a first date. A woman that shows up looking shabby, unprepared or late simply isn't getting a second date. A woman wouldn't tolerate this of a man, so I think I'm being reasonable.

The issue of physical appearance is a hot button for both sexes. Everyone agrees that there must be mutual chemistry, but this is on a sliding scale. I'm pretty sure that the Elephant Man wouldn't be holding out for Angelina Jolie, so you get the picture. 

Still, some of my more delusional hamsters seem to be holding out for Brad Pitt. I find this amusing given what they have to offer. A 42 year old woman who works at the makeup counter at Nordstrom's, divorced, with two young kids at home can hardly expect a Brad Pitt type to choose her, no matter how pure she is inside.

Conversely, men in this age category tend to date for sport...and they're looking for young, hot, dumb girls. If you're a young, hot, dumb girl, expect to be used and don't hold out for the guy to marry you.  It just isn't going to happen.  By the same token, if you're an older, well to do gentleman living in a big house in Corona Del Mar and you truly believe that you're 30 year old hairdresser girlfriend loves you for you, you're dumber than she is.

This all brings me back to my original point: that both parties should state what they're looking for and what they offer (or don't offer) as early as possible. Screening through phone conversations ahead of a first date is one practice I'm going to enforce diligently, for sure.  Clear, open communication better be present from the get-go and if it isn't, I've lost my taste for reading between the lines, deciphering pre-menstrual banter or post hormonal assertions. 

I'm trying to remain calm, but I'm seriously considering lobbying the Obama administration for warning labels to be attached to all single men and women outlining their defects (my warning label would have to be printed on the back of a coat tie). 

Alternatively, can't someone make a mobile app using facial recognition software that will allow us single people to review each other?  Imagine if you can snap a pic of a Hamster at a club and pull her dating history, testimonials from ex's, credit score, criminal history, recent blood test, likes, dislikes, religion and job history.

A mobile app like that could've saved me hundrends of thousands of dollars...possibly millions.

I'm seriously considering bringing a long-form written test to my first dates. It'd be a quick meet up at Starbucks and while I'm sipping a Chai Tea Latte, my Hamster can put that #2 pencil to good use on a quick, 100 question personal profile quiz. If she matches my answers, we can move on to the polygraph test.  Or maybe there's already a mobile app for this, too.