R U Coming Out
So last week I left the comfort of my East London flat and my very pretty floral bed and travelled to the Eagle in Vauxhall. That means getting a tube and everything. Sandra D was DJing at the R U Coming Out second birthday and it was packed with gays and glitter.
I’m not going to lie, the night is a tad of a blur. I remember some amazing music and I remember watching the guy from the Feeling and singing along rather loudly. I remember DJ Lady Lloyd refusing to play Bewitched because of their love of denim. I remember free drinks and my brain telling me I should do a Jäger bomb challenge even though I dislike both Jägermeister and red bull. I remember the sense of community with this room full of strangers all there to support this wonderful cause. And I remember the banana on the wall.
The whole website is a wonderful place. R U Coming Out inspires, supports and unites those who are living their lives either completely, or partially in the closet. The site was set up (and is still run) by Wayne Dhesi in March 2012 while he was a Youth Worker for the National Health Service. He noticed a gap in support for closeted people and had an idea that gay, lesbian and bisexual people who had come out years ago and were now content and happy, could share their experiences with those who were struggling with coming out now. To be honest it was quite emotional to hear all the stories of people who had been bullied or rejected by friends or family because of being gay.
The main focus of this website is the stories. People from all over the world write and submit their own personal accounts of Coming Out. So whether you sat down your parents and explained to them the ins and outs of sex, or whether you got caught sleeping with your boss covered in glitter, you can share. And so you don’t blurt out how much you like having boobs put into your mouth infront of your grandmother
The party was a wonderful night and it really inspires you. Check out the site and add your story! Everyone wants to know that tale.
Lets chat about Vagina hair.
From feminists claiming they are not shaving because it’s only men that want them to, to others saying they only feel comfortable if it’s shaved off completely, body hair is always circulating the blogging sphere one way or another. My opinion is always going to be, do what the fuck you want with it. It’s your garden, and if you want to let it grow like Mary quite contrary, or shape it into the face of spider man and sprinkle glitter on it, it’s entirely up to you.
Favoured by porn stars so you can see exactly what’s going in and out. And back in again. And being shaken all about. Kind of like a dirty naked hokey cokey. This one takes the most grooming of course so make sure you have some serious time on your hands. Because as soon as those hairs start to grow just a little bit it’s all a bit of hedgehog affair. And no one needs to be catching themselves on their own vagina. It’s just not a necessary thing in life.
Of course if you’re going for the wax, get ready for some pain. Do not believe the pain free wax slogans. These are bigger lies than 60 second drying nail varnish or “let’s just go for one drink.” If you’ve never had it before, the wax is slathered on you beautifully like someone putting butter cream icing on a delicious red velvet cake. Before the icing is brutally ripped off leaving the cake bare and screaming. But each cake gets a lot easier and you get used to the pain, but just like you getting used to watching the pain of Shane and Carmen’s wedding episode, it will probably take a few years.
This is when you remove all the hair apart from a thin sliver. This can be short, long, thin, thick, wavy, bendy, curly, pretty, happy, or any of the other dwarves. This can be good if you don’t want all the hair but don’t want it all completely gone either. And it doesn’t get in the way of oral sex at all, which is sometimes, just the most important thing in life. It can be tricky at first to get it, but then it’s just like riding a bike. But then again, the last time I rode a bike I blacked out and got a concussion. So you know, wear protection.
This is when you leave the body hair but trim is down so it doesn’t swish around when you’re walking. This is an easy one to maintain because you just whack out the trimmer and it takes about five minutes. Just don’t do it anywhere near food or small children.
This can be slightly itchy if you’re not used to it and tight underwear will enhance this. So kick them off when you get home from work and zip up the unicorn onesie keeping yourself free. Or keep on the birthday suit and be as free as a pigeon. Those bad ass fuckers do what they want. Only consider this if you live alone as you do not need your flatmate’s parents walking in you squatting nude in cleaning the hamster cage.
When you leave it all apart from the ones that escape your My Little Pony knickers. So the rest remains mostly untouched. A simple way and can be trimmed, plucked or cut off with your girlfriend’s nail scissors.
Full grown Garden
No managing it, easy maintenance, leaving it be. Favoured by Gwyneth Peltrow after she stated that she let hers grow on Ellen DeGeneres show. If you favour this then you probably have a lot more time in your day to browse Netflix or feed baby giraffes at the zoo. The problem you might have is when it comes to someone going down on you. They’re going to have to be a very skilled explorer to track down and capture the treasure in the forest. C rarely marks the spot. But if you’re happy with it, then you blow dry that bush with pride.
These of course are just some the ways in which you can have yours. There will be a part two on how to remove it whether it’s by waxing, shaving, trimming, plucking or licking coming soon.
Gay marriage will be legal in the UK tomorrow kids! SO lets talk about sex in marriage. The best part.
Why couple sex can be better.
*Yes I do tend to bang on about going out, drinking tequila and pulling. I realized this while looking back on all the Friday Sex talks I have done. While drinking tequila. But sex when you’re in a relationship can be some of the best sex of your life. With or without tequila.
First things first, it’s sex on tap. It’s a massive tap full of lacy underwear and love beads. There’s no need to schedule or figure out when it’s best to go out and find someone, because that someone is there next to you, with a wedding ring on and such, showing you that they are yours in sickness and in health, in drunk and in sobernerss, in happiness and in PMS. Or they might be dressed as zombie bride or whatever else turns you on.
Morning sex is a big plus on the couples side. You won’t be trying to gnaw off your arm because you’ve seen the monstrosity that you’ve woken up with. You won’t trying to be find all your clothes that are scattered around on various furniture. You won’t be whispering at your jacket zip to stop being so loud in case you wake her. Your girlfriend or wife will be lying there next to you all cuddled up. And you love her. So whip that care bear onesie off her and get jiggy with it. Na na na na na na.
In a couple, you’ve already done things before. This is a big advantage for a lot of reasons. She would have seen you at your worst when you’ve been exhausted from playing Mario Cart or you’ve had candy floss all over your face and hair. Because of this there’s no pressure to look good when you’re getting down to it. You can just concentrate on the going down bit, and not how your hair might look while doing it.
Couples toys have to be the best part. You know what you like. You know you want certain things that are shaped like this and buzz like that. An amazing toy website that’s built especially for couples is Charged and Satisfied. They have an amaze–tits selection of stuff that will charge and satisfy your every need. I would check out the Comet Pearl GSpot dildo personally. Or even the icicles Romantic Rose glass dildo because it looks like an lovely ornament for your mantel piece, which is funny, but makes you orgasm like you’ve just won the lottery while sitting on a unicorn. http://www.chargedandsatisfied.co.uk
Your partner will also know what you like doing, and what you don’t. They’ll know that you like to get hit lightly with a toilet roll before being tickled and fed peppermint creams. And they’ll know what not to do, like that time they made the mistake of introducing the blow up doll into the bedroom. That sang.
We all know that foreplay is the king of sex. I’m allowed to say that as I am a lesbian thing. In a couple you can do that all day. From dipping your finger into their sugar puffs in the morning and licking off the milk to ‘forgetting’ to close your shirt while making pastries at night. And you can make innuendos out of the words you just read. Want to put your tongue in her sugar puff? Of course you do.
Quickies are always there in case you fancy a bit of a romp in the middle of washing the salad. It’s safer obviously, as if there were crabs going on down there, you’d know about them. Your’e probably not going to notice them as much with a stranger in the downstairs loo at G.A.Y. Embarrassment isn’t a big deal, like when your vagina makes that noise and you just want to die. Most importantly, they’ll be no big surprises. You know she doesn’t own toys the size of a piano and there’s no extra belly buttons or anything. Everything is something you’ve seen and done before, so you can experiment a lot more with new things. With or without tequila.
So last night was Thursday and we went to a BFI party that had Bethany Babybel from DOMO DJing. And it was glorious. And not just because they sold very large tequilas that tasted like sprinkled heaven. But this is why.
1. I really like dancing.
Now it’s not exactly like I have rhythm. My flatmate has got serious moves that she likes to show off. She looks a little like Justin Timberlake crossed with a suave spinning top whereas I more or less look like a seal trying to play naughts and crosses. But that aside, I love it. And yes I might knock a few people in the face or fling my mojito over my white dress making me look like I’ve fallen in a pond, but in DOMO it really does not matter. You just dance.
2. Amaze tits music.
The music is stuff that I actually know. Like a mixture of everything on my ipod and everything I danced to in school discos in secondary school where I pretended I had a boyfriend but really I was convinced I was going to marry my chemistry teacher. You can really sing along to everything and spout your majestic ariel mermaid voice over everywhere.
3. Fashion times
I can wear what I want. Last night my boobs actually looked really good in the dress I was wearing and it took a lot of willpower throughout the whole night not to take a picture of them. Yes, my life. I also like wearing my new dresses that look like they belong on the set of the Railway Children the second I have them on my person. Whenever I select next-day delivery for an online purchase, I imagine someone, somewhere, yells FUCK really loud then people scurry around like mad. If they’ve gone to the trouble of that, I will go to the trouble of spilling drinks down it.
Some people there don’t even wear clothes. People get ridiculously hot dancing and then strip off without a care in the world so there’s all sorts of Victoria secrets, Ann Summers and M&S stretched cotton on show. Be yourself in Domo and wave your knickers in the air like you just don’t care.
You knew that was coming. But seriously, like really big ones.
Tomorrow is my weekly girl’s night Missfit so you should come and drink tequila there and celebrate gay marriage, DJ Sandra D’s birthday and the fact that tequila exists on our planet.
This week has been quite a comedown. Just from the Prom last weekend, not from snorting something out of hooker’s belly button in a hotel room. I’ll save that for next week. Or I’ll be in my flat, wrapped in my unicorn fleece reading a book about wombles eating dairylea triangles.
The Lesbian Prom was gloriously epic. I had a wonderful time in my spotty dress that I couldn’t stop twirling in. There was some amazing outfits too from hot suits and bow ties, that I’m not going to lie turned me on around 87% of the night and I needed quite a lie down at the end of it, to the sparky dresses and sequinned crowns. So of course now I’m planning the next big event and I’m sitting surrounded by papers, post it notes, my dairy, cupcakes, glitter pens, notepads, wine and the free lube from the Prom.
I slept for about two days after the prom and when I woke up I realized it was in fact, March. And that apparently means it is Spring where British people where four jumpers instead of six. Apparently it also means I’m meant to go outside but I don’t agree with this as daylight hurts your hangover face and gives me more freckles than I need so I look like a child’s dot to dot puzzle.
This Weekend it was our usual Missfit clubnight where we had a tequila and glitter party. I may have gone overboard with the glitter slightly as girls are still complaining to me today that they can’t get it off their hair, elbows and nipples. You get used to it though. Soon you’re sprinkling it on your pancakes in the morning. I also wore this because I got sent it for actual free through the post from an awesome shop called thinc. by pinc and it might be the best top since unicorns actually existed and got the wrong day when they were meant to be getting on the ark.
I forgot to write Friday Sex Talk this week. I know, there should be a penalty of having to eat live worms or listen to One Direction’s album. I genuinely forgot what day it was. Flick the unicorn had to remind me to get ready for my own club night and stop messing about with the lube. And of course I hadn’t washed anything and the laundry basket looked like TopShop had thrown up tequila covered fabric so I had to squeeze myself into a dress that was far too small. It reminded me of when you wrap soft goats cheese in cling film. Only more ginger. And now that I’ve gone outside, more freckly.
As a drunk, I myself am usually just happy and I get a bit too excited about tequila and think I can handle way more than I actually can because I have ‘Irish blood.’ And then I think I’m Beyoncé and the shimmies usually go a bit wrong and I’ll end up passed out over my toilet with a cricked neck.
But of course I don’t drink often. I don’t need alchol to be happy, I’m also happy if the drink is on a table as long as it’s still within arm’s reach.
The Drunk couple
These come in two stages. First will be the sickly stage where they have come out together, possibly dressed in matching rainbow jumpers. They will then start to drink together, always having the same amount and then might even sip out of each other’s straws because they just can’t being away from each other’s spit for that long.
The second part of the evening is cringy and you will find yourself trying to get away from it by making small talk with the bouncer about spaghetti. They will start to bicker slightly about maybe one of them looking at a girl in the wrong way. And then all chaos will break lose and it will be a mixture of drinks being thrown and hair clips and sparkly nails galore. This of course is not all couples, some just get drunk and start shagging up against a stairwell which is much more preferable.
The Horny Drunk
They’re fine usually and will sit at home in their sloth onesie and knit their toilet roll holders. But as soon as they have a shot, they are on heat. You will often find them leaning up against walls, often with one leg up looking no higher than the cleavage spot and no lower than the knees. Everyone loves a few sexy knees.
This is a funny one to watch as Horny drunks will literally move on from one girl to another in their quest to go home and have sex with various objects and candy floss. If you are doing this, maybe take a step back and wonder if you do in fact want to do the shame in the morning where you pretend you have somewhere to be and offer her a toasted bagel. Or if you know it’s going to good then go for it and cartwheel into the station and take your tube ride of pride.
The Happy Drunk
These will be the people who have had all their anger pushed out of them to make room for a barcadi cocktail. They will love everyone, kiss everyone, befriend everyone, and want to do things with everyone. This is course how I ended up with my boss in a garage, but you all know that story. They are a bit different from the Horny Drunk as these will find pleasure in other things like stories from peoples’ pasts and unicorns and not just frilly knickers under chinos.
It’s like a happy shot every time they have a drink. These are the ones who will babble about nothing while tilting their head and showing you all of their teeth. And are generally a nice person to be around. If you don’t mind losing your personal space entirely.
The Angry Drunk
These are the ones you don’t want around. They cause difficulty and suddenly, after a few shots, even a door will piss them off for getting in their way; and much like a PMS woman, they will think it’s nothing to kick it down and call it an arrogant dickhead.
The Idiot Drunk
These also come in two stages. One, they will decide to do something very silly like climb a lamppost with a bag of candy floss and a sheep and think nothing of it. Or two, they get very confused and have no idea what they’re doing, where they are, who they’re with, or why they’re chewing pink sugar while shearing a sheep.
I often get confused when drunk and say things like “ I have a pornographic memory” or I get really terrified of the hand dryers because I think they’re out to get me.
Video Posted on Updated on
Signs you’re NOT ready for a relationship
We all sometimes look a chick flicks and think, God, I want that. I want to be a prostitute and have someone make me into a pretty woman. I want to write a diary and have two people fighting over me one especially one called Darcy. And oh God I want to have four weddings and then a funeral and then get with the love of my life. But sometimes, we are just not ready for a relationship in any way and even our cat is trying to tell us that.
There’s a lot of scary things about London. Avoiding suffocation by suits at rush hour, trying desperately to keep your balance on the escalators and the scariest thing of all; living with boys. But sometimes I have to branch out on my own to be scared and this makes me hate the city and want to go and lie on a mountain somewhere in the country. And apart from going to the dentist, going for a haircut is the most terrifying thing in the world.
Getting a haircut is that scary moment when you ask the person holding scissors behind you for a trim knowing full well that they could take their bad day out on you at any point and give you a bob.
In Wales, the salons are normally tiny little places where a woman with curlers in her bleached hair will speak at you in Welsh while chatting about who’s just got pregnant and will leave you with your hair pretty much the same as it was when you walked in. Or it will be in someone’s living room and you pay a tenner to get your hair brushed.
In London, walking into a salon is like entering the inside of a Cybermen ship. Most things are silver. Silver products, silver appliances, silver chairs, silver sinks and sometimes even the hairdressers themselves have silver hair and make-up. And you can’t even call them hairdressers because this is apparently the equivalent of calling the queen ‘A posh old bird.’ You have to call them stylists because they are stylish and they style you.
Once you have found a seat you have to choose a level in which you want your hair to be done at. You have a junior stylist, a senior stylist, a Great Aunt stylist and etcetera. What this is, is basically choosing how nice you want your hair to look. If you’re rich you go straight for the creme dele creme and leave with your hair looking like a shiny ray of unicorn prettyness. If you’re like me and you hand them twenty pounds in change and half a packet of chewing gum you get someone who hasn’t yet graduated using you as an experiment.
Just getting your locks cut isn’t an option. You have to have them watered and fed and dried and curled and straightened and sprayed with stuff. And they massage your hair like it’s had a really tiring day and really needs a good rub down. The massage itself hits all the relaxing sports and puts you to sleep so you find yourself snoring and drooling into the shampooing sink.
After gazing at yourself in the mirror for about twenty minutes the hairdresser will ask what you want. And when you tell them they will suggest something completely different. Feathering, diffusing, graduating, and a mallam streak are all options. And I also need to look after the cuticles and follicles by rubbing oil and cream on them, which to me sounds like something to do with cooking or sex.
When hairdressers have chosen their style and are chatting to you, you have to make sure you have the right answers. In fact become a completely different person. Topics like your holidays, nails, dating, going out and the weather are all light conversation topics that are satisfactory. Talking about gay rights, asking what the hell she’s doing with your hair or shouting in pain as she crimps your ear are all things you can’t do. Just keep the screaming in your head.
After a while of talking and combing I had a hairstyle that now only looks decent if I spend several days styling it at home. And I never have that much time so I’ll jump on the tube looking like a hamster is hibernating on my forehead. or I’ll just do my usual plait thing COZ it’s easy. So there you have it. I survived one scary arse trip to a salon where I managed to look completely out of place, mumble like an idiot, panicked when I thought the stylist said she was putting syrup in my hair and not serum and said I didn’t need protection because I was gay. Obviously I knew she meant heat protection. Obviously. The hamster fringe hid my shame well anyway.
I have talked about this so much. I think every other word that comes out my mouth is either about the prom, relating to the prom or what I’m going to do with Flick the unicorn while we’re at the Prom. Unicorn babysitters are surprisingly hard to find. But this is going to be one hell of a party and it’s our first massive event as a company so that means now, four days before, I am shitting bricks and considering flinging myself in the Thames.
But these are the things that make the Lesbian Prom cool.
- It’s a chance to dress up. I like dressing up. I like putting on a pretty dress and doing my makeup because it makes me feel like a princess in a much lesbian Disney film. With added tequila. I’m still looking for my dress because I’m very last minute and will probably be breaking into TopShop on Saturday evening with some sort of clever device involving magnets, blue tack and nail varnish.
- When I went to Prom I had to go with a boy. This was very unsatisfactory as I did not like them as a species at that time. He wanted to hold my hand and get me flowers and kiss me gently and dance romantically and everything. And I wanted to fuck my chemistry teacher. This prom means I get to go with a girl. And 1200 other girls too.
- The music is amaze tits. I have been in love with Lauren from Chvrches for ages and have a lot fringe envy. And Charli XCX is too hot for her own good and I am dying to see the outfit she picks for Saturday. Her last one looked a cross between a zebra and a modern lampshade from Ikea. I loved it.
- Girls. And more girls.
- You could be crowned prom king or queen and imagine putting that on your CV.
- The fashion there is going to be better than any fashion week going. Side note, I may exaggerate things in excess stress times. Or when I’ve been drinking some sort of delicious bomb.
- There’s room showing how epic the drag kings are. Soon there will be a Ru Paul’s drag race boi special and I will give my career a break once again and watch the entire series in one sitting with a bottle of wine and a pot of strawberry yoghurt.
- The DJs are the sexiest things alive and make me want to go to gym for eighteen months straight.
- This blog is sponsoring the VIP room. Imagine the dirty sexual filth that will be in the gift bags. Also, unicorn stuff.
- We’re trying to open the lesbian world and create more exciting events. Support the scene and all that. We have glitter.
- This one hell of a unique event and the first of it’s kind, ever.
- I am genuinely doing this because I love my job. Writing and promoting is what I want to eventually take over the world with. I love it. And love can make you do stupid things. Most recently love made me get drunk enough to sob into a box of donuts and invite my friends Ben and Jerry along to the party.
It’s all going to be fine.
Lesbian Prom info here
I’m aware it’s Saturday. I was wretching up tequila on my shoes yesterday so lets leave it.
Lesbian Sex Problems
We are lesbians and we’re good at sex. We all know this. But sometimes there are those niggly little things that stop us from being that awesome.
You may have short hair. You may also date girls that have short hair. In which case, pat yourself on the back for making excellent decision and move down to the next point. Hair gets in the way, it gets in your eyes, it gets in your mouth, it gets dipped into things it does not need to be dipping in to. And if you both have long hair you can constantly be pushing it out the way and threatening to get your nail scissors to cut it off into something that resembles a hedgehog on ecstasy. I am convinced that this is what happened to Miley Cyrus. That when she went down on her secret girlfriend on her wrecking ball she got bored of pushing her Disney hair out of the way. I have medium hair which is the worst length to have. It falls out of its bobble, there’s too many layers for it to be pushed back and it ends up getting covered in lube and candy floss.
Time of the month
This is annoying enough but in a lesbian relationship there is two of you. This of course means two types of PMS clashing together in a vortex of never ending doom and chocolate. It also means sex can get rather messy or you end up not having it at all because you have satin white sheets and getting the walls of your uterus on them is not really an option.
I’ve talked about this before. Lesbians do not have enough protection when it comes to sexual health. Dental dams are annoying and if you haven’t got a sensitive clit, it can be a very tiring experience. When you’re lying there wondering what all the fumbling around is about meanwhile she’s exhausting herself trying to lick the same spot over and over like a kitten with a food bowl on salmon day. Also, snapping on a pair of gloves is not sexy. It’s something you do if you’re a dentist or a serial killer. Which is terrifying.
Some girls like to have long nails with painted colours, or sequins, or glitter, or jelly tots. And other girls do not want these anywhere near their vagina.
Lesbian Bed Death
It happens to many of us at some point. When your girlfriend would rather watch an episode of Grey’s Anatomy slurping on soup than even think about taking off the panda onesie to get down to it. It can often happen when two people have been together for a long time and have a house and kids and eleven pet woodlice and eat breakfast together over grownup things like croissants. It can also happen if a couple is too busy for one another and one has a big case at the lawyer court thing where they bang hammers and stuff and one is on tour as the only UK Taylor Swift tribute act. If this happens I think talking to someone really helps. Or talk to the walls because they can’t talk or something.
How to wear Heels. In a club.
Wearing heels on a night out is a practised art form. You have to practise otherwise you look silly, you hit your head on things and people will ask you if there’s something wrong at 7 in the evening with the sympathetic head tilt like you belong in some sort of home.
Falling down is something you have to think about. And not just when you’re in a club, you have to think about that shit all the time. Last week I tripped over an extension lead and landed with my knee in the bookcase. In clubs though you normally have a drink in your hand, and falling over means spilling alcohol and as everyone knows, this can get you thrown in jail.
With heels you have three ways that you could fall down. First is the slippage. There is usually all sorts of liquids on the floor as I think British people are aiming to create swimming pools in their social areas. Slip in heels and you’ll look you have the agility of an overweight moose. Floors are often sticky too and this could mean that you fall out of your shoes and straight onto the floor. This can be very dangerous when you touch the floor with your body, you can get pregnant. The other way is seeing your ex who trips you up because you cheated on her with your dentist but that’s neither here nor there.
You have to get used to being taller than everyone else. Like you’re on stilts or standing on toasters or you can look a bit like a giraffe in sequin shorts. This of course is only if you’re like me and you think you can get away with dressing like you’re in a roller disco. This does give you power however because you can get served at the bar first, or that other hot tall person in the world will catch your eye and ask you to go home and engage in sexual activity involving pancake batter.
In the lesbian club nights, wearing heels will make people think you’re straight. If you’re wearing your converse you’re as invisible as your phone charger in the dark or Will Smith’s first son. As soon as you wear heels you’re normally very different. It would be nice to get the labels taken away at some point in the future. I don’t like labels on anything, not even food. ‘Serve this pizza with a fresh salad and share with friends.’ ‘Don’t tell me what to do, I’m putting candyfloss on it and eating it in my pillow fort.’ These are just some very lesbian nights. In East London you can show up how you like. Wear a cardboard box filled with poultry and the only reason someone will complain is if one of the ducks drinks their tequila.
Of course break your shoes in before you go out. This can take a while. And by a while I mean a year and a half. If you don’t have this much planning time, run up and down the stairs in them. If you haven’t broken your leg or knocked the glitter off your stiletto you’re good to go. If you don’t break them in you’ll be that really irritating person crying your eyes out like a toddler who’s just had his jelly tots taken away. Only sadder. You can always drown out the pain. It takes approximately thirteen tequilas. Always be responsible in your heels. Always be drunk.
I’ve wrote about going down on a girl before which is here, but this one is more geared towards the more experienced of you all. The ones who know their clit but not yet know where to sit. These are some tips for getting in the right position to make it that much more interesting easier and have your girl making noises like a vomiting giraffe.
I’ve said this before because most people say they always go down on their girl on the bed. This is very difficult as you can’t really reach everything. It’s like that one kitchen cupboard you’ve probably got that you can’t quite reach to the back off. Unlike your cupboard that probably just has old herbs spices and cans of tuna at the back, reaching right in to the vagina with your tongue is going to get closer to the G Spot and this makes your girls body very happy.
The best positions I’ve always found are when your girl is sitting on something like a bed, a sofa, or a hamster cage and you’re kneeling on the floor. There’s much more access and you probably won’t get pins and needles either which often puts you in a compromising position. Do you carry on caressing your woman with your tongue or do you caress your feet to stop the excruciating feeling that makes you want to punch a radiator. Also in this position, a tumble dryer or rocking chair can add to the experience. So can a sitting on a unicorn.
Other positions that work quite well is having your girl sit up high on something. A kitchen counter or shelf can work well. Make sure the shelf is sturdy of course; no one needs to be rushed to A&E to explain why they were trapped naked under a book shelf covered in early additions of Jane Austen. When your woman is up high, you can stand up while you do it. You might be able to do a few squats while you’re at it too. Fitness and all that.
Of course if you like doing things at the same time you might want to do the sixty nine as this is perfect for both of you getting pleasure at the same time. Take turns being on top because it’s a completely different sensation. If you’re one of those couples who fight for control learn like a toddler to take turns, or fight her for it. Wrestling is fun. And is great practise for when you buy your pet baby unicorn in the future as you have to fight them as they hate having their mane’s brushed.
The sitting of one’s vagina on one’s face is the best position if one’s girlfriend knows exactly what she likes. You’re basically just a tongue in this position as she will decide on the pressure and the rhythm. So get yourself comfy with lots of pillows and fleece blanket and shove on your panda onesie. You can lie back and relax and wonder about those niggling life questions like why can’t we remember the colours of the word google when we see it every day and how do mermaids actually make love with their tails?
Obviously these are just a few to get started. I haven’t even begun on the ones from behind yet but we haven’t got all day, it’s Friday and there’s tequila waiting to be drank. Positions when licking someone out are like cooking. You add a bunch of ingredients like tongue, lube, and degree of position and hope it all works out. And FYI my actual cooking is getting a lot better. Either that or my flatmate’s immune system has improved dramatically.
Five reasons I haven’t blogged in a month.
Fuck. Yes. I realized today that I haven’t blogged in exactly a month. Things have been a little tad teeny weeny bit hectic here in London town. I’m actually also wearing a ‘sweatshirt’ today so maybe things have actually just failed. So here comes the science kids.
1. My Laptop got hacked.
Yes, I felt like I was on an episode of Hussle but with more viruses and screaming. It got one virus, then got approximately several billion viruses more and then slowly trickled into a vortex of doom and completely stopped working. Just ran out of to fucks to give. No, I will not do my job, and yes I will leave you there sobbing in your unicorn pyjamas.
Work, the work that I do outside my blog and sometimes pays my bills. As Missfit we have started a lot of new clubnights. Every Saturday we have an East London night and soon we’re opening a brand new girls venue so it’s all exciting. And it’s also all very drunk. My liver is soon going to put out a white flag or start drawing little ransom notes with my blood and pieces of intestine.
This month has flown by with emailing things and having tequila and interviewing really hot DJs. And then promotion for all these nights where I have to go out again and drink tequila with everyone and hand out flyers and chat up girls. There’s some really hard nights. And hard mornings. So I wink seductively here or just move on?
4. Lesbian Drama
Just. Oh my God. If lesbian drama was a person, that person would be Miley Cyrus crossed with Justin Bieber coming in on a ball wrecking lives and getting a DUI for being on it drunk. And always, being inappropriate with girls’ feelings. And lots of fit hair. And possible licking of DIY items.
Since Candy closing, the lesbians of London seem to have crawled out of the woodwork and are now out and proud to voice their opinions and sip on their cocktails in all the new venues that are happening all around. Its like the unicorns heard our prayers and made six or seven new places pop up all at once.
Putting on the Prom this year has encompassed all four of these points. More so the drinking. I never thought it would take up this much time in my life. Who is that high in the sky? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No! It’s Stress-girl with her side kick Pinot Grigio.
5. House of Cards
I know. I’m normally so much a book person. I’m normally so much a person who loves British drama. I’m normally a person who likes comedy. I’m normally a person who does not follow American Politics in any way shape or flag. But this series has gripped me from the arse up. Everytime I sit down to write my flatmate puts it on and it’s bam, glued to the screen and the hot wife on it. If this continues I’ll I’m going to have a big gap in my CV for this entire year. “So how did you apply yourself this year?” “Well I successful navigated chocolate covered popcorn into my mouth while keeping my eyes directly on Claire Underwood’s tits. That is concentration right there.”
So in my actual non blogging life I work as a promoter for my own company I have with my flatmate called MissFit. Our new night launched in East London this week and this is pretty much what happened from the off.
7:40pm – Arrive at Venue to find all our promoters are there before us. We forget that our staff often listen to us and are actually professional humans whereas we stroll in on a hangover and demand chicken.
8:00 – Finally realize that’s it not actually the vodka making us shiver but that the basement where our club is, is actually freezing.
8:10 – Sit huddled by the radiator like some sort of underwhelmed seventy year old. Should have taken up knitting to complete the lonely look.Have unmatching socks and rather unflattering cardigan on though so would probably win a medal in the granny fayre if needed.
8:15 – Start to put some of our posters up on the wall. Almost break thumb. Decide that blue takking paper on a rough surface is more DIY than I can handle.
8:20 – Poster falls down.
8:30 – Try to figure out lighting system so it doesn’t look like a dungeon in the middle ages when people walk in.
8:38 – Decide that Middle aged dungeons are now the new cool.
8:48 – Girls start arriving and ordering cocktails. Sandra gracefully puts on a pre mixed playlist until she starts playing oozing the coolness of a DJ while I attempt to remove something sticky from my hair.
9:10 – Show our gorgeous door girl Fam that she will in fact have to sit on the edge of the stairs to greet people. And give her cellotape and paper to run the cloakroom with like she’s on an episode of Blue Peter.
9:25 – Our promoters Chloe, Sam, Laura and Evelina make me sip their cocktails to calm down slightly. Three seconds previously I was pacing the room demanding to know where all the lesbians in the world were.
9:42 – Realize that when Sandra is on the decks, I am effectively in charge. Also realize that my CV should not have ‘good at multitasking’ on it. And that I should also add ‘when I feel like it’ and ‘when I’m drunk’ on quite a few of the other points.
10:00 – Worry that it won’t get full and start imagining life without promotion work every again. It mainly still consists of unicorns.
10:12 – Sam starts to swing dance and gets a lot of other girls joining in making the room look busy and glamorous. Attempt to swing dance and look like a hamster trying to mate.
10:30 – Poster falls down.
10:38 – introduce self to girl who mistakingly hears my name as Katy. Being awkwardly British, do not correct her and answer to it throughout the night despite my actual name being on the flyer and poster.
10:45 – Sell more tickets to the Lesbian Prom and scream in someone’s face how excited I am about it.
11:00 – See that technically, now that millions of lesbians have arrived, I should probably have a tequila or three as a reward.
11:10 – Go upstairs to use Fam’s phone to facebook as mine stopped working just when I needed it the most. The trust is now gone.
11:16 – Throws phone against wall.
11:17 – Dented poster falls down
11:30 – Dance slightly until interruptions that there is no toilet roll. When in the loo see two men walk out without washing their hands and immediately want to throw up my internal organs. Next time might get a sign that says ‘Wash your hands or ag least wipe them on someone you don’t like.’
11:55 – Got caught in conversation about thigh gaps and how important they were. Refrained from saying ‘Surely the only thigh gap you need is when a girl’s head is between your legs,’
11:59 – Realize I did in fact say that sentence.
12:04 – Have a tequila
12:08 – Poster falls down
12:13 – Have a tequila
12:24 – See that you actually can’t move for women and feel very happy.
12:36 – Realize that wearing red underwear under a white dress was not the best move on my part. Decide to make like Ru Paul and work it. Strut through dance floor.
12:40 – Even more girls arrive and people are jumping up and down to amazing Music from Lucy Stone.
12:45 – Someone complimented the underwear so I turned around and said ‘yeah might make this a thing, you know show off your underwear under your clothes, I mean I have so much nice underwear, It must get so sad always being hidden.’
12:46 – Realize she was actually complimenting my hair. Thank her and point out the sticky thing in it while she backs away.
1:00 – Loads more friends arrive from other bar so more tequila is bought than necessary.
1:04 – More tequila drunk get.
1:34 – Feels a little sick. Wonders how long it would take a giraffe to throw up.
1:45 – Madly dances to Taylor Swift slightly believing I am in fact her.
1:47 – Poster falls down. No fucks were given.
1:52 – Sandy brings out marshmallows the size of a small piano.
1:54 – Sandra asks who brought the chewy clouds into the club.
2:00 – Everyone is rounded up and ushered out to continue their drinking elsewhere well we try to figure out if we’ve made any money or if we’ve drank it.
2:03 – Collect all posters. One of them refuses to come off the wall.
2:15 – Arrive back in flat and collapse over marmite on toast.
So yes. Those of you who missed out, I will see you next Saturday. And those of you who came, and danced and partied and had an awesome time, I’ll also see you next week.
The one and only, ha, what, this is mine anyway, you should read it.
Strap on guide
When thinking of getting a sex toy for the first time, the strap on is often the first thing you’ll think of buying. It’s because it’s something extra to add to your bedroom activities.
Getting one when you’re not sure what you’re meant to be buying can be a world of confusion. There’s so many types and different parts to the straps and the ons and it’s good to know what end is which and what end goes in which end.
No IKEA building necessary. This one is self built, and you pop it out the box and you’re ready to go. I would never recommend this for your first one. Or ever. It’s worth putting the time in building the flatpack. The problem you have with all-in-one is dimensions. The strap will probably slip off quicker than a squirrel in a nut rocket and the on part will probably be too big for you. A house, a bar of chocolate or a cat can never be too big. A dildo, can.
Start with small. Yes you might get very excited in the shop and pick up something that looks like it would able you to beat a kangaroo to death. But great things come in little packages and all that. You want to get used to using this new thing with your girl, and not try and sit on a cylinder of pain and spend the rest of the night eating tofu and blaming each other about who’s idea it was to buy the giganc 6000 plus X.
For your first strap-on you want something comfortable and something you can adjust. If you’re different sizes aswell this can help so you can both play in the hay. Lots of ties and pully things can have you strapped on and gliding in in no time. Anything that doesn’t fall down is always a winner. Being stabbed in the stomach can cause severe pain. And worse, you’ll probably stop playing around.
With a single/thigh strap, this just goes around the thigh which can help with the manoeuvring. It can be a bit confusing when suddenly you’re waddling around with a penis and you’re not sure what to do with it. With it on your leg, it’s sometimes a lot easier to do the whole scissoring thing but with an added extra oomph. Like when you get your favourite sandwich and they’ve put an extra layer of mayonnaise on. Makes it just that bit more exciting.
This one has 2 back straps dividing between your legs and then curve around your bum. It’s one of the most comfortable ones to wear and is easy to use as you can use your whole body for the thrusting action. Depending on the strap you get, these can often be used to pleasure the giver as well. So it’s handy for all like a thesaurus or a paper clip. This is probably the best one to get for your first time as it has lots of room for error and yet you can still have an orgasmicly glorious time.
Leather is always a winner as it’s comfortable and easy to fasten. If you’re not happy with dead cow being clasped to you though then the next option would be PVC as it doesn’t sit as well but it’s easy to clean. Always think about the cleaning. Don’t go for something fancy like a strap made from denim, sweets or spaghetti for your first one. Maybe later. It will end in tears with you hungoverly putting it on thinking it’s your jeans or eating it for breakfast.
There’s lots you can get, lots you can find in different sort of shops. I would go in and try things on. You don’t have to strip or anything, and get the breeze up your vagina, you just pop it over your jeans. You really need to feel comfortable with it too so when you get home stick it on and walk around the house with it. Strut, swaddle and swagger around and get used to having your strap and strapon.