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OMG JC a Bomb!
Jul 13, 2004

We are the Invisible Spatula. We are the Grilluminati. We eat before and after dinner. We eat forever. And eventually... eventually we will lead them into the dining room.
http://www.salon.com/2015/07/13/how_anal_sex_ruined_my_relationship/

Salon dot com posted:

It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m at the W Hotel in Manhattan with a boyfriend I’ll call Liam. We’ve been together for over a year, and this is the moment I’ve been waiting for my whole life: He’s going to propose.

The night so far has been perfect. We’ve just come back from a party. The champagne arrives from room service in a silver bucket. Liam hands me a glass. His piercing green eyes and jet-black hair are striking against his white tux. He motions for me to sit next to him on the bed. “I want to ask you something,” he says. My heart is pounding as I stare at the twinkling Manhattan skyline.

I stick my hand under the pillow, because I always imagined that when a man proposed, he’d hide the velvet box there, like an adult version of the tooth fairy. But there’s nothing under the pillow. It’s probably in his pocket. I sip my champagne and try to calm down.

That’s when Liam whispers, “Tonight, I want to do it up the butt.”

Most women would think, He’s not going to marry you, dummy. But in my twisted 26-year-old brain, I still think that marriage isn’t completely off the table if I give in.

Other women might think, That’s hot that he wants anal. Go for it!

But I’m really uptight. My old-fashioned Russian mother drilled things into my head like, “If you give the milk away for free, he won’t buy the cow.” I believed her.

I was a virgin until I was 20, when I finally had sex with my college boyfriend. I cried the entire time and asked him if he was going to marry me because I couldn’t live with myself if he didn’t. After he promised he would, I made him cuddle me for hours. This went on for a year until he cheated on me with a waitress at Steak and Shake.

After that, I had six failed relationships. This was my pattern: I’d meet a guy I liked. We’d look deeply into each other’s eyes at a fancy restaurant where they comb your tablecloth. He’d want to have sex, and I wanted to do it too, now that I’d been defiled.

But after we’d have sex, I’d feel like a slut and become that needy girl every man is afraid of. I’d call too often. I’d need too much reassurance. He’d start spending lots of time with his friends at Paddy O’s, the perfect place to complain about your crazy girlfriend over a pint of Guinness. And before long, he’d stop calling and break up with me.

With Liam, I was determined to do things differently. When I first spied him at a swing dance at the Supper Club in Manhattan, he was leaning against the mahogany bar drinking a martini in a neatly pressed button-down shirt. He asked me to dance a lot that night and we exchanged numbers. I invited him to my birthday party the following weekend in Boston, not expecting him to show. But he rode his motorcycle three hours in the pouring rain to come to my party. He gave me a limited-edition swing music CD box set and gray pearl earrings.

Liam stayed with me that weekend. We had amazing sex and talked for hours over cannolis at an Italian restaurant in the North End. Liam was 29, and he was already an executive at a top engineering firm. I’d found my prince.

He said, “I really like you,” and kissed me deeply. Then he wrapped my arms around his waist as I sat behind him on his motorcycle. We drove through Harvard Square, blasting through piles of red and orange leaves. I was in love.

Liam left to go back home. I worried, What if he doesn’t call? What if there is an Irish pub nearby?

I decided I didn’t want to ruin it with Liam. So I called up a professional: my sister Rochelle. We both had big butts. But Rochelle was more disciplined than me. By starving herself and exercising two hours a day, she turned herself into a skinny, blond goddess. She married a handsome surgeon who lived in a mansion on the North Shore of Chicago. She was the ultimate playboy tamer.

Rochelle said, “If you want to get that ring on your finger, it’s going to be very painful and you have to be fully committed to the program that I put you on.”

“Just tell me what to do,” I said.

I got a $300 wardrobe at Anthropologie and a fancy bob at a Newbury Street salon instead of my usual bowl cut at Fantastic Sams. I looked in the mirror. I no longer saw a gawky Jewish girl, I saw Diana, the dating huntress.

Next, Rochelle taught me the phone was my enemy. I wasn’t allowed to call Liam. We practiced. The phone rang. When I picked up, it was Rochelle, calling me on my housemate’s line. She chastised me. “What did I say? Don’t ever pick up the phone. Let it go to voice mail so he thinks you’re out. And when you call him back, respond to everything he says with, That’s awesome!”

Rochelle forced me to exercise. “Whenever you have the urge to call him, don’t gorge on gummy bears, do sit-ups,” she said. “You’ll have a six-pack and he’ll be dying to talk to you.”

I followed her program religiously. When Liam didn’t call for more than a week, I didn’t cave. I did crunches. I sat shivering on my futon in my drafty Victorian apartment, staring at my cordless phone, willing it to ring. Waves of insecurity pummeled me. Maybe he’d lost interest and found someone else. I called Rochelle for support. “Be strong,” she warned.

Eventually Liam called. I pretended to be unfazed.

When we were together, Liam acted like I was the most important person in his life. He monopolized me at swing dances. He took me on romantic picnics. We had great sex, and I didn’t turn into crazy Marilyn. I fooled him into thinking I was the calm, laid-back girl of his dreams. That’s when he asked me to spend New Year’s with him.

But now, at the W hotel, I don’t know what to do. Rochelle didn’t cover butt sex in the training. I try to call her from the bathroom, but she doesn’t pick up.

I panic. “OK. Go ahead,” I say to Liam.

He smiles and unzips my dress. He pulls back my pink lace thong and after some shoving and a lot of lube, he puts it in. It feels like my butt is being jackhammered by a giant apple corer. When it’s over, he asks me if I liked it.

“That was awesome,” I lie. I think, Now that I’ve done this, I’ll get my ring.

Liam excuses himself to go to the bathroom. I hear water running. He yells, “Oh god!”

“Is everything OK?” I ask. Silence.

“Sure, if you’re cool cleaning poop off your dick,” he says when he comes out of the bathroom.

I don’t even have to get crazy this time. He just stops calling. It’s over.

I have a dark few weeks. I put on my sweat pants. I hit the gummy bears hard. I cry a lot. I’d degraded myself to hang onto a man, and it didn’t even work.

But something inside of me clicks. I decide: I’m done with guys like Liam. I’m finished pretending to be someone I’m not.

A relationship that doesn’t allow me to be a human being with needs and preferences isn’t worth having, no matter how good it looks on the outside. Maybe I was cheating myself by not believing I deserved a man who could give me the support and attention I craved.

So I pack up my car and drive across the country. I swing dance in every city along the way. I have fun. I focus on fulfilling my own needs.

When I finally make it to San Francisco, it’s 10 o’clock at night. I go to Club Cocodrie in North Beach, where I know they’ll have swing dancing. Across the room, I see a tall, broad-shouldered guy with Buddy Holly glasses on. His name is Jeff. Jeff asks me to dance, and then he asks me out. After our first date, he calls me every day because he actually likes me.

Jeff never abandons me, not even when we’re trapped in a tiny hotel room in Madrid and I have such bad food poisoning that it gives me the runs and I can’t stop throwing up.

Before Jeff, I was convinced that dating was as stressful as piecing together a complex puzzle. But once I met the right guy, it was easy and clear. Jeff wanted to be with me, and I wanted to be with him. He was my best friend, and he accepted the real me.

In the end, I got my ring under the pillow. And I didn’t have to take it up the butt to get it.

the ending makes me cry every time.

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Moridin920
Nov 15, 2007

by FactsAreUseless
teach me how to dougie
teach teach me how to dougie


(anyone who stays at the W deserves whatever assfucking they get)

Jeffrey of YOSPOS
Dec 22, 2005

GET LOSE, YOU CAN'T COMPARE WITH MY POWERS
this is slander, I've never met this woman

big nipples big life
May 12, 2014

On the next episode: Jeff reads this article and steps out for a pack of cigarettes.

Junkfist
Oct 7, 2004

FRIEND?
Never trust a Liam.

Dmitri-9
Nov 30, 2004

There's something really sexy about Scrooge McDuck. I love Uncle Scrooge.
god drat salon has gotten pathetic over the years

ElectricSheep
Jan 14, 2006

she had tiny Italian boobs.
Well that's my story.
why does she have to mention jewish heritage when discussing the professions of her poo-dick boyfriend and her sister's husband

Waltzing Along
Jun 14, 2008

There's only one
Human race
Many faces
Everybody belongs here
If she don't like anal, she not worth it.

Shinjobi
Jul 10, 2008


Gravy Boat 2k
I don't think anal ruined the relationship.


I think it was just unpleasant for her.


And maybe the dude was just an rear end in a top hat.


But whatevs more clicks please

Waltzing Along
Jun 14, 2008

There's only one
Human race
Many faces
Everybody belongs here

ElectricSheep posted:

why does she have to mention jewish heritage when discussing the professions of her poo-dick boyfriend and her sister's husband

Cuz she's a JAP and that's what they do. It's called entitlement.

Junkfist
Oct 7, 2004

FRIEND?
I imagined Liam Neeson in the role of her boyfriend acting all of this out with his unique blend of cold indifference and focused rage it is a harrowing scene and not comedic at all.

Un chien andalou
Oct 22, 2008

The pipe is leaking
lol if your rectum is not clean as a whistle 24/7

Raar_Im_A_Dinosaur
Mar 16, 2006

GOOD LUCK!!
Cool episode synopsis of Girls, OP, it's not like I have IMDB for that. Sorry you don't have any real friends to bore with this non story.

welcome 2 Clown Town
Aug 1, 2006

GALAXY'S #2 SCULL*!

*scrunt skull
anus

Hell Yeah
Dec 25, 2012

seriously who writes this bullshit. i read this whole thing and was just barely able to cum.

Affe mk2
Mar 9, 2004

Chicks dig giant robots
i liked the part where she got hosed in the butt lmao

Moridin920
Nov 15, 2007

by FactsAreUseless

ElectricSheep posted:

why does she have to mention jewish heritage when discussing the professions of her poo-dick boyfriend and her sister's husband

i know right as if we couldn't tell from the rest of the article

Axolotl
Jan 23, 2002
Whatever
Liam is/was a closeted homosexual, probably actually named William.

Likes swing dancing, dressing stylishly, and anal. Yeah, definitely a 'mo.

Jeffrey of YOSPOS
Dec 22, 2005

GET LOSE, YOU CAN'T COMPARE WITH MY POWERS
Who proposes after a year in change? In an age where one can learn about the honeymoon effect in high school? I would be pretty weirded out by someone wanting to get married after 14 months.

mango sentinel
Jan 5, 2001

by sebmojo
Salon is xojane now?

OMG JC a Bomb!
Jul 13, 2004

We are the Invisible Spatula. We are the Grilluminati. We eat before and after dinner. We eat forever. And eventually... eventually we will lead them into the dining room.

quote:

I got a $300 wardrobe at Anthropologie

fuccboi
Jan 5, 2004

by zen death robot

quote:

She married a handsome surgeon who lived in a mansion on the North Shore of Chicago.

quote:

Liam was 29, and he was already an executive at a top engineering firm. I’d found my prince.

lol, so much for empowered women

George H.W. Cunt
Oct 6, 2010





liam sounds like a bitch if he wanted to do anal and was surprised at the thin poo poo film covering his dick. if you dont regret not laying out towels then you just arent doing it right

scuba school sucks
Aug 30, 2012

The brilliance of my posting illuminates the forums like a jar of shining gold when all around is dark
Reading Salon has ruined more relationships than the buttsex ever did.

Moridin920
Nov 15, 2007

by FactsAreUseless
that's why anal isn't some spontaneous thing unless you're sure there's no poo poo up there

:shrug:

if you need to lay towels out loving lmao

Dial-a-Dog
May 22, 2001
Who among us wouldn't want to get hosed in the rear end by an engineering executive named Liam

TOOT BOOT
May 25, 2010

the only ring in that story is her brown ring

toggle
Nov 7, 2005

pretty cool article. she makes good decisions

MAKE NO BABBYS
Jan 28, 2010
Cocodrie closed in 2000, you old bitch.


Also, lol swing dancing.

ArbitraryC
Jan 28, 2009
Pick a number, any number
Pillbug
What's with swing dancers being religious people with hangups about sex.

STABASS
Apr 18, 2009

Fun Shoe
The relationship wasn't the only thing of hers ruined by anal sex

e: He monopolized me at swing dances

STABASS fucked around with this message at 21:48 on Jul 13, 2015

Bethamphetamine
Oct 29, 2012

How many times has this woman read 50 Shades of Gray? I'm going to guess at least 4.

Professor Shark
May 22, 2012

I rea dthat entire thing. This woman hasn't improved her self evaluation skills despite thinking she's learned from her experiences.

toggle
Nov 7, 2005

sex fiction written by a fat lonely internet woman

My Q-Face
Jul 8, 2002

A dumb racist who need to kill themselves

quote:

Oh God there's poo poo on my dick

Well, you did just put it up somebody's shithole, what were you expecting?

toggle
Nov 7, 2005

wanna see rochelle's big butt

glowstick party tonight
Oct 4, 2003

by zen death robot
marriage is like a prison and i hear they have a thing called "tossing a salad" in prison

women are dumb

Edmund Sparkler
Jul 4, 2003
For twelve years, you have been asking: Who is John Galt? This is John Galt speaking. I am the man who loves his life. I am the man who does not sacrifice his love or his values. I am the man who has deprived you of victims and thus has destroyed your world, and if you wish to know why you are peris

yes, clearly anal sex was what ruined that terrible relationship between two horribly broken people

Edmund Sparkler
Jul 4, 2003
For twelve years, you have been asking: Who is John Galt? This is John Galt speaking. I am the man who loves his life. I am the man who does not sacrifice his love or his values. I am the man who has deprived you of victims and thus has destroyed your world, and if you wish to know why you are peris

toggle posted:

wanna see rochelle's big butt

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84LUpG6ieis

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nomadologique
Mar 9, 2011

DUNK A DILL PICKLE REALDO
it's 100% the "manhattan thing" that has this woman all tied up in weird knots that we could explore in a touching but ultimately shallowly ironic and exploitative mid-week film release

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