Meredith's Sex and the Electric City Blog!
Boyfriend Stealer
December 18, 02:33 PM
Christmas usually brings out the best in my friends. I mean, my girls aren’t super into all that peace and love crap. We usually just get together, exchange erotic gifts, and then ring in the New Year all December long. For us, getting into the Christmas spirit, means drinking plenty of Christmas spirits. Like the other night we were partying at Brenda’s place and the combination of too many Jäger-nog bombs and Trish’s boyfriend’s early release from prison made for a night none of us will soon remember. The next morning, Trish found her man in bed with Brenda. That’s when things got messy. By the time those two were done scrapping, there was more weave on the ground then on either of their heads. What a show!
After that, Brenda and Trish stopped talking to each other, which was really hard on me, because now I had to listen to all their crap. They were all like, “How could she do that to me?” “She’s not being a true friend!” “I’m going to set her house on fire!” yada yada, I get the point. They were both pissed ‘cause they both thought they were right. Trish said, “he’s my man, ‘cause he’s squatting on my couch,” which made sense to me. But then Brenda said, “beaux’s before hoes,” and Trish (who I love like a sister) is totally a hoe. So I guess they both had solid arguments.
Love triangles are always messy and I really didn’t want to get involved in this one, but against my better judgment, I went to talk to the guy, to see if I could get him to help me squash this beef. But you know how these things go, one thing led to another and I accidentally turned the triangle into a square. The good news is that Trish and Brenda are talking again, unfortunately, most of that talk is just the dirty, nasty messages they’re leaving for me with the receptionist at my office. I’ve got a plan to fix this though. I talked to the man at the center of all this again and he suggested that the four of us get together, do a few more Jäger-nog bombs and work out all our differences in the bedroom. If I know my girls like I think I do, all this drama will be behind us in no time.
Christmas
December 11, 02:43 PM
Well, Christmas is here again. Not my favorite holiday, but it has its good side: the church 'round the corner drops off food at my door, I like singin’ my dirty rendition of Santa Baby, and I get paid time off. But I hate everything else, especially the gift giving. No one ever gets me anything good, it’s just the same crap every year: fruitcakes, baskets of deodorant, anabuse, fungal ointment… And buying gifts is the worst. The only person I bother getting a gift for is my son, Jakey. He’s getting to an age where it’s hard to get him what he wants without one of us going to jail, but I do what I can to make him happy on Christmas.
Last year Jakey wanted a Death Spade Zippo lighter (the boy has his mamma’s great taste). On that Christmas Eve I went to the Steamtown Mall for some shopping. I had a few scratcher tickets worth about 50 bucks, I cashed them in and used the money for his lighter. Later, I swung by the mall’s Santa setup for a visit. Doug, the guy that works as Santa, is an old flame of mine. I cut in front of the line, sat on Santa’s lap and told him what I wanted for Christmas. Then we hurried into Santa’s house for a 15 minute break. That was the last thing I had on my list of things to do, so I left the mall and headed to the Rusty Nail to spend what I had left from my scratcher fund. There I realized that I left the lighter and my purse (actually it’s a plastic Uni-Mart bag I use as a purse) in Santa’s house! I pounded my drink and raced back to the mall.
Those bastards at the mall closed early for Christmas. Fortunately the security guard that caught me trying to break in had a soft spot for a red head with strong hands, so he agreed not to turn me in. I rolled him a cigarette, when he took out his lighter I saw that lo and behold he had a Death Spade Zippo! It was a Christmas miracle. He wasn’t much of a security guard, he didn’t notice when I five fingered it. When I gave it to Jakey the next morning, his face lit up - I made my boy’s Christmas wish come true. Then he showed me his arm; he got a tattoo that said “Mother” and another word. The mother part was his gift to me and I loved it. So you see Christmas does have its good side. I don’t know how I’m going to top that lighter this year, I may give in and get him that crossbow he’s been asking for.
Younger Guys
December 04, 10:31 AM
Men are like fine bottles of PBR, you can still enjoy 'em when they age, but after a while they start to smell and taste a little skunky. That’s why I like my men young and fresh. With guys my age, all I have to do is show a little skin and they’re promising me the Moon Over My Hammy breakfast at Denny’s if I’ll agree to stay the night. But the young bucks are a little trickier to bag on account of their short attention spans. One minute it’s last call and you’re offering them a ride home, and the next thing you know, they suddenly remember they have some class they need to get to right away. Fortunately for me, I enjoy the hunt as much as the kill.
The more a guy fights me, the greater my resolve is to have my way with them. And when it comes to a younger man, you’ve got to be patient and tricky. I mean, a young hunk looks at me, he starts sporting some wood, but he’s thinking, “with the age difference, there’s no way she’ll be interested in a relationship, better keep looking.” And he’s right, my M.O. is “use them, abuse them, lose them.” But you can’t let them know that. You gotta play the game. I went to an Army recruitment meeting last week to get a few numbers. I told all kinds of lies to ease those boys’ insecurities. Stuff like, “I don’t usually do this sort of thing, but I’m feeling patriotic,” and “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” I know lying is wrong, but I didn’t hear any complaints when that GI was gagged and handcuffed to my bed later that night.
There are a lot of obvious benefits to dating younger guys: they dress well, take care of their bodies, and still got plenty of thunder down under. But there are problems too. One of the reasons men find me so attractive is because of my experience. The art of lovemaking is like any skill set, the more you do it, the better you get, and honey, let me tell you, I’m the best! But these young guys, they don’t know what they’re doing half the time. They can’t handle a woman like me. I’ve got powerful needs and I can’t have you getting all squeamish from performance anxiety when it’s business time. Fortunately, I’m excellent at playing “teacher.” I show them a few tricks, give 'em some homework, and then have them demonstrate their new-found abilities on me. Nothing gives me as much “satisfaction” as educating America’s youth.
Astrology
November 26, 10:49 AM
The future can be hard to predict before it happens. I didn’t see that audit coming. Didn’t see that DUI check point coming. And I sure as hell didn’t see those side effects coming (hair-ry!). Sometimes life throws you curve balls, especially when it comes to dating. That’s why it’s important to check your horoscope. You need to know what the future has in store for you when you’re a single gal. I was born in May, so that makes me a Taurus - which is ironic because I drove a Ford Taurus before it got impounded (stupid check point).
I’m one of those rare Tauruses that’s compatible with all other signs, but I still need a little guidance now and again. Last week this new janitor started at the office park and I really want to jangle his big ring of keys, if you catch my drift. I decided to seek the advice of a psychic. Madame Cindy is a professional astrologer and palm reader. She explained to me that, “Tauruses are gentle, sensitive and feminine” – eerie how accurate that is, right? Madame Cindy then took my palm and told me that all of the calluses on my hands meant wealth in my future. And the dirt under my nails was a sign of hope. I was pretty satisfied with the session up to this point, then her predictions started to get ridiculous. She told me some crap about how that patch of red on my thumb is a fungus and that my yellowish skin might be a symptom of jaundice. I came in to talk about doin’ that janitor – if I wanted medical advice I’d go to that prison doc that owes me a favor. To top it all off, she ended the session by charging me thirty-five dollars for her predictions! I could tell she wasn’t a real psychic when she accepted my check.
Now I get all the psychic and astrological advice I need for free. I just go to the super market and read my horoscope in magazines. It works out well, when I find a really good horoscope I rip out that page so that I don’t have to pay for anything (I do the same thing to the bartending books at the public library). Just yesterday I tore out a horoscope that said, “You will have an encounter with someone that offers an investment opportunity, you’ll benefit if you proceed with skepticism.” Hear that, I’m going to have an “encounter with someone”! Now I know for sure that I’m gonna get that janitor… it’s in the stars.
How To Impress A Girl
November 19, 01:56 PM
Before I start, let me just say, I don’t want you all to think I’m a prude or a virgin or anything lame like that. I enjoy casual sex as much as the next gal posting on Casual Encounters, but sometimes a girl is in the mood for romance. I mean, eventually I’m gonna give a dude “the milk,” but there’s no way in hell he’s getting it for free. If you want a piece of this, you’re going to need to put in the work. Wine me, dine me, grind me. Drinks, dinner, and dancing. And no, the lunch buffet at Toppers does not count for all three, unless of course they’re serving those awesome hot wings.
If you want to impress a girl, take her someplace SUPER classy. If we go to the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company for shellfish, you’ll get a whole lot more than crabs. Don’t like seafood? No problem. The HomeTown Buffet has a little something for everyone, plus gigantic portions. Which is important, ‘cause when momma has a full tank of gas, she can ride all night. Or maybe, you don’t like food at all. Well then, lets shake our groove-train at the Colosseum. It’s like a Roman orgy, with tons of dance music, drink specials, and black lights. Nothing makes a girl feel right like getting her freak on to Scranton’s best laser-light show.
Dinner and dancing are great, but if you really wanna make my butter melt, here’s the itinerary for an ideal date: 1. Pick me up in a quality American automobile. Call me old-fashioned, but riding the bus on a date just isn’t that romantic. I’m not in my early 30’s anymore. 2. Bring me a gift. Forget flowers, I need something practical. Chocolates are okay, meat is better, and you can’t go wrong with toiletries—I’m always running out of toiletries. 3. Play some romantic music on the drive to get us in the mood. Something like AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” really gets my motor running. 4. At dinner, make a romantic gesture. If some guy flirts with me or the waiter looks at me weird, kick the crap out of him. Seeing a man bleed always makes me feel like a woman. 5. And finally, if you follow steps 1 thru 4, you can drive me someplace real romantic, like the quarry, and then make love to me until the sun rises. I can’t think of a more romantic place to end a date, than the roomy backseat of a quality American automobile.
Bad Boys
November 13, 04:48 PM
I’ve always had a thing for bad boys and they’ve always had a thing for me. There’s something about a man with a Raiders jacket and an illegal firearm that gets me. I’ve always been this way. When I was a girl I had a crush on the guys in the Symbionese Liberation Army. When I was in high school I dated all the local carnies with police records. I can’t tell you how many stolen cars I’ve seen the back seat of over the years. Dangerous, that’s the way I like ‘em. So it’s no wonder that I’ve found love among the prison system.
I am currently dating a dozen incarcerated men. Although it makes me happy knowing that a group of guys behind bars have my name tattooed on their arm, the distance between us can make things tough… conjugal visits just aren’t enough attention for this gal (though they help). I used to have all my boys call me collect at the office, but those bastards at corporate complained about the long distance charges from out of state prisons. Now I keep my relationships alive by writing. At first I had a hard time expressing my emotions in a letter, then I realized that if you can talk dirty, you can write dirty. And I love the stuff they write me back - talk about putting the “mate” in “inmate.” They say absence makes the heart grow fonder - I can tell you this much, absence sure makes me hornier.
I cope knowing that I’ll be reunited with one of them in Scranton. I encourage them to have good behavior so they’ll get out on parole. In a way I’m doing a service for society, my attention is inspiring them to be less bad. I don’t want them to reform too much though, as I said, I like ‘em bad. A few of my jailbirds are too bad – they have no chance of an early release. Odds are one of them will manage to bust out of the joint so we can be together. I bet it’s Clarence (AKA the peanut killer), he’s pretty damn smart. Whether they make parole or break out, I’ll be waiting for them on the other side of that prison fence in a sexy nighty, because I love them bad bad boys.
Rebound Dating
November 06, 04:08 PM
It looks like our old HR chick, “Trampy McTrampalot,” ended things with my boss. Breakups are the worst, when they happen to you. I know, I know, it’s all part of the game. If you wanna be a player, expect to get played. But there’s a right way and a wrong way to end things. It’s not cool stranding me in Myrtle Beach once your Spring Break is over and you’re sober enough to drive back to school. Unfortunately, guys always want to play these passive-aggressive mind games. I was with one dude who tried it all: intentionally violating his parole, faking his own death, getting a sex change. That’s an awful lot of trouble to go through for little ol’ Meredith. Better to be a man about it: do me one last time and then file a restraining order. I can take a hint.
As much as breakups suck when they happen to you, they create some incredible opportunities when they happen to someone else. There’s nothing quite so satisfying as dating a man on the rebound. When you meet them they’re self-esteem is low, they’re lonely, and desperate. You swoop in and they’re so anxious to be with someone, you can pretty much have your way with them. A guy on the rebound will do some stuff you could never get him to do if he hadn’t just been deprived of his dignity. They’re so afraid of being alone again, they do crazy romantic things to impress you: bowling, VHS rentals, nothing’s off limits. I once had a guy on the rebound cook me a candlelit dinner—totally made me forget about him being too poor to pay his electric bill.
The only problem with dating a guy on the rebound, is that sometimes they’re too needy and emotional. I’m a woman who needs her space and some of these losers can’t handle letting this wild horse roam free. I’ve had a bunch of flings end because these so-called men can’t handle a woman in heat. No worries though, I just go out and find me another heartbroken man to have my way with. You know the old expression, “two rebounds make a right.” It’s true. Co-dependent relationships are way healthier than ones where only one person is dependent on the other. So just remember, if things end poorly with one guy, don’t get down on yourself, get down with another guy who’s down on himself.
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