Whose Orgasm Is It Anyway?

Did you ever hear the one about the woman who had multiple orgasms… for three hours!? Her orgasms weren’t all pleasure, nor were they a feat of strength. She was experiencing dozens of orgasms due to Persistent Genital Arousal Disorder (PGAD). I have no idea how statistically common PGAD can be, although there are many examples of the condition floating round the internet. (Some of the videos are funny in a “that’s fucked up and I shouldn’t be laughing at this” sort of way.) When I first heard the story, the female (relevant) news anchors made jokes about the man (who brought his wife into the ER) receiving high fives, claps on the back, and “way to go” affirmations for what he had done. Wait, for what he had done? I thought the story was about her orgasm, not his. In the film, Irreversible, two friends that were once lovers discussed the trouble they had with sex. He spoke about how hard he tried to give her an orgasm and how he always seemed to fail. She laughed and explained that if he had just enjoyed himself and not tried so hard she would have had no problem reaching a climax.

Distracted Jet Thought… I’ve always remembered that movie scene because I’ve never wanted to sound stupid with a lover in the heat of moment. I’ve learned the hard way that saying the wrong thing, at the right time, can cool a woman off faster than a January toilet seat in an apartment with no heat. It’s been said that kissing the Blarney Stone gives one the gift of eloquence. I’ve kissed that stone and I’ve still said stupid shit to women. Three things have helped me to avoid saying as much stupid shit as I have in the past.
1.) I think before I speak. How would this message be perceived, out of context, or if it were written in stone?
2.) I try not to give anything personally. It’s a daily challenge to avoid taking things, that others say, personally. A different sort of challenge is to avoid delivering coded messages from a deeply personal place. (i.e. Don’t make your message about you. If you do, and it happens, call yourself on it.)
3.) Platinum speaking. Golden speakers speak with the golden rule and deliver message the way they want to receive messages. Platinum speakers speak with the platinum rule and deliver message the way their audience wants to receive messages.

Now, back to your loosely scheduled post…

I’d like to share with you some of the comments I’ve heard men say, in reference to women’s orgasms over the years. I’ll start with the song by The Time from 1984’s Ice Cream Castles “If The Kid Can’t Make You Come”, wherein Morris Day brags on how he’ll make his woman come and if he (the kid) can’t do it, nobody can. I mean, who’s better at making the ladies cum than Morris Day, honestly! [I wanted to find a YouTube link to that song, in case you hadn’t heard it. Fun Fact: When you Google any string of words with kid and cum in the same sentence, Big Brother Google posts a warning that such images are illegal. I don’t want to share a cell with Jarod (too soon?) so I abandoned that search hella quick.] Another classic was that one dude at a house party, back in Atlanta that claimed he could make a woman cum just by looking at her. We were all in our 20s, drunk and/or high, and talking shit to impress any of the pretty womens* nearby. I’ll cut that guy some slack. [*Before you comment on what seems to be a typo… I know the correct use of woman, women, and womyn. Womens is a nod to Blues man Muddy Waters. Listen to some of his classics.] The most persistent example I’ve overheard (at play parties, orgies, and various bedrooms) has been the guy that aggressively promises to make his lover cum with the same volition that one would promise to make dinner.

He Makes Her Cum
It’s all up to him,
let him tell it.
It’s all in the stroke,
let him sell it.
I suppose it is a sales pitch.
Pardon me!
I know that you have many dicks
to choose from
when you choose to travel.
But, if you choose to ride on this dick,
I’ll make you cum so hard
and cum so quick
that your mind will unravel.
Shall we take a Lyft Line
to your place or mine?
You so fine,
I’ll take some extra time and…
cuddle.
*he whispers* Move to the left,
we’re in your puddle.
What was that?
You’re welcome, Boo!
I’m so glad
that I could give you an orgasm
and make your back spasm.
I know, I know.
I’m the man!

Did you vomit in your mouth a little bit? Sorry, I wanted to give an extreme example of the unwelcome bedroom brag. It’s Worth Mentioning [IWM]… Sometimes lovers welcome and crave comedically confident talk in the bedroom. This post has more to do with you being a better communicator with your lover than it has to do with some random Jet telling you how to speak to your lover.

A message to the men that use some of the aforementioned language before, during, or after sex: The problem with such commentary is that these are examples of giving messages personally. Don’t make the message about you. The subject of concern is an orgasm. Not just an orgasm, but her orgasm. It’s her orgasm to release, enjoy, and to share with you (if you’re lucky). It is neither your sole responsibility to bring a woman to orgasm, nor is it a reflection of your manhood if she does not reach an orgasm. Societal conditioning has concocted many misguided ways for us to prove our manhood. Taking ownership of a woman’s orgasm should be stricken from that list. I would be over distilling the definition of a woman’s sexual climax if I were to call an orgasm a mere response to stimuli. Of course, the breakdown of what types of stimuli involved can be numerous. This post isn’t about the science or the “mystery” (he wrote, mockingly) of the female orgasm. That’s another topic for another time. This is about taking credit and, in essence, attempting to take power away from the woman in your embrace. [IWM… Women should take care and avoid giving away power by making her partner responsible for her orgasm. “You didn’t make me cum!”, she said with arms akimbo and a furrowed accusatory brow. I’ve written before about how no one can make you feel, but this isn’t as simple as words being (or not being) the catalyst for an emotional outcome. This is about so much more. Because of that an orgasm should never be considered, nor feel like someone’s job.]

I’ve never had a vagina. I’ve never known what it’s like to hear someone tell me, “I’m going to make you cum” as if they were attempting to take ownership of my pleasure. So, I sought counsel from some of the women in my life. When asked how they felt about the aforementioned phrase, they had this to say…

A: “I don’t think anyone has ever said that. And I’m not sure I would want them to! 1. It might make me feel pressured…unless you’re tying me up and holding a wand to my pussy and it’s a dominating situation it doesn’t feel appropriate to state that. 2. 98% of the time I do cum so why state the obvious…my only response could be “I hope so” 3. Plus not every time has to have an end goal and maybe I’m just in the mood to experience pleasure for the sake of pleasure with that being enough.”

J: “It totally depends on the context, the timing, and the tone of voice. It could potentially amp things up a bit and be exciting, but it could also sound a little aggressive. I find it much hotter when a partner says something like, “I love it when you cum,” or “I love watching you cum.” That implies that the partner gets pleasure in meeting your needs or bringing you pleasure, but was not as focused on the outcome as he was on you. Saying “I’m going to make you cum” can sometimes come across more like the partner is using a goal-oriented checklist approach to show off his own prowess with sex, and it’s more an accomplishment for him than something for you. But again, it depends on the context, timing, & tone of voice…”

F: “For me, having an orgasm is not a requirement for good sex. I’ve had amazing sex when I didn’t cum, I’ve had mediocre sex that had an orgasm or two in the mix… and everything in between. What is a requirement, however, is connection and communication- feeling like both parties are equally engaged in both their own pleasure and that of the other person. Sometimes I want to cum, but I can’t. Sometimes I don’t think I’m going to cum, and then it happens. Surprise! At the end of the day, my preference is that someone ask (GASP!) if I want to cum before assuming it as a goal. I don’t like cumming just to stroke someone’s ego. So if the person I’m fucking asks if I want to cum, and I say yes, and then they proceed to work their damnedest to help make it happen, and at some point say “I’m going to make you cum”, or in a more [Dom/sub] fashion order me to cum for them, or something like that, then it’s great! If someone doesn’t ask, and the mood isn’t right and they say “I’m going to make you cum”, it’s a total boner-killer for me because then I feel like I have to cum for them, that I owe them an orgasm. I will also mention that I don’t think I’ve ever experienced the latter when fucking women.”

R: “You can’t make me anything mothafucka and concentrating on that end result will take away some of the joy of getting there for the both of us.”

I’m certainly not suggesting that these four women represent all women everywhere. But, here are some takeaways from their feedback:
1.) A statement’s delivery and circumstance will determine how welcome it is to the listener’s ears. The Dom/sub dynamic is just one situation in which the phrase may be welcomed during certain types of play.
2.) Stating the obvious. If you know your partner, are paying attention to your new partner, or you’ve asked your partner what they want out of your experience together (please, phrase that in a more eloquent manner so you don’t come across as a square-unless you’re about to make it with a sapiosexual, in which case, go for it) there’s a chance you may not make such a gonna-make-you-cum comment much like you wouldn’t stare into a storm cloud and demand rain.
3.) The end game doesn’t always have to be about ending the play. How many times have you had sex in the past month? How did you count that number? Was the number based on how many orgasms you/your partner had or was the number based on separate play experiences? I once reflected on the number of whole body orgasms I experienced, the night before, because I was trying to figure out why I wanted to sleep in. It wasn’t because I was trying to count how many times I had sex. I think it’s more rewarding for both parties to have a sexy rumpus that continues as a seamless experience throughout the allotted time together. Why do we count anyway, ego? “We did it four times last night, I’m such a stud!” M’eh! Just enjoy each other until one/both of you taps out. IWM… Another (not quoted above) sage woman mentioned that she’s experienced this commanding statement from both men and women. So, I’m not taking aim at one particular group of humans.

All humans should talk to their lovers and understand what each other wants instead of assuming or, heaven forbid, making some measurable mark of pleasure. Enjoy your orgasms, both solo and with your lovers. Listen to each other and try enjoying the pleasure without a goal-oriented approach.

What are you doing for brunch on Sunday? Come see me perform!

Red Hots Burlesque, Sunday, 1/31 @ Piano Fight, San Francisco
The Garter Room, Thursday, 2/4 @ The Legionnaire Saloon, Oakland
No Cover Cabaret, Friday, 2/5 @ Skylark Bar, San Francisco
Hubba Hubba Revue, Monday, 2/8 @ DNA Lounge (Upstairs), San Francisco
Briefs Erotic Film Competition After Party, Thursday, 2/11 @ The Uptown, Oakland
Hubba Hubba Revue, Monday, 2/22 @ DNA Lounge (Upstairs), San Francisco
Hubba Hubba Revue/Bootie, Saturday, 3/5 @ DNA Lounge (Main Stage), San Francisco
Hubba Hubba Revue, Saturday, 4/8 @ DNA Lounge (Main Stage), San Francisco
Red Hots Burlesque, Friday, 5/6 @ Beatbox, San Francisco
Red Hots Burlesque, Sunday, 5/8 @ Piano Fight, San Francisco
Red Hots Burlesque, Sunday, 5/15 @ Piano Fight, San Francisco
Red Hots Burlesque, Friday, 5/20 @ Beatbox, San Francisco
Red Hots Burlesque, Friday, 5/27 @ Beatbox, San Francisco
3-2-1… Sizzle!, Friday, 12/16 @ Sacramento Comedy Spot, Sacramento

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Let’s Talk About Sex(ual Health), Baby!

Good Morning! How’s your sex life? I’m writing this in hopes that it’s a great sex life, filled with healthy, positive communication between you and your partner(s). Do you know your number? Have you talked about it openly? You know what number, the number that all of the magazines discourage you from discussing with your partner. The number that tends to garner shame or bragging rights based on your relationship with sex (or your societal conditioning… more on that later). The number of sexual partners since the loss of your virginity (or the gain of your sexual learner’s permit). Do you know your number of new sexual partners in the past six months? Before I gained my sexual learner’s permit and started driving my penis around with any, more experienced, driver that was willing to sit on… as my passenger, my brother inadvertently inspired me to keep track. He had just returned from Desert Storm and he was impressed by someone in his company that had been with 50 women! That seemed like a lot for a 21 year-old. Not a lot in a moral judgment sort of way, a lot in a do-the-math sort of way. My brother decided to make his own list to determine his number. Happy to have him back from the war and looking up to him, I was inspired to do the same when I started having sex. So, since August 14th, 1993 and that fateful night in my parents basement, I’ve been keeping track of names and details*. So, yes, I certainly know my number. The question comes up during the interview for my semi-annual STI panel.

*It’s Worth Mentioning… On the list of my sexual partners, there is not now (nor has there ever been) any sort of scoring component. That seems shitty to me. Besides what would that rubric look like? Wouldn’t it be fair to explain the point system before coitus began? Should the Harvard Grad that sat on my face get more points than the Junior College dropout that gave me a blowjob in the parking lot? I digress.

When was the last time that you were tested? Yes, you! Have you been in a monogamous relationship for the past two years? Congratulations! Get tested. Are you familiar with a dormancy period? Have you ever heard of diseases presenting as asymptomatic in the body? Herpes is more common than most people realize (statistics from the CDC and other sources have ranged from 16.2% of US residents aged 14-49 to 25% to as high as “we don’t know” or the even higher still “assume everyone has herpes” estimate) and you can still get a blood test for it even if you’ve never had an outbreak. Please, get tested. Do you know what type of Hepatitis can live outside of the body? Get tested. Give any rim jobs lately? Get tested. Perhaps you volunteer with young people; getting semi-annual STI testing could act as an example for them and you may help them build a good habit as they follow in your footsteps.

It’s worth mentioning… Monogamy is not a magic shield against STIs. If you and your partner have been fluid bonded and neither has had sex with a third party, you should still get regular tests just as you would a regular physical. I’m not typing this to scare you, but we live in a world where not all infections are transmitted by the textbook rules. Have you heard the stories about the people that found out their partner was breaking their agreement (read: cheating) because their annual blood test came back with reactive properties for certain STIs? I’ve heard those stories and even if they’re urban legends, do you want to find out the hard way? I’m not suggesting that your partner is lying to you. I’m not suggesting that you get tested to try to “catch them in a lie.” I’m just suggesting that you get tested because an agreement of monogamy does not make one impervious to infection. Don’t believe me, check out this article that backs up my argument with science!

If you live in the Bay area and you want to get tested, pay a visit to the Berkeley Free Clinic. (Please be sure to donate to the BFC if you use their services. It’s a free clinic but, that doesn’t mean there aren’t costs involved.) Show your support for Planned Parenthood and their sexual health education efforts. Young kids are braver than we were at their age. They’re trying all of the things and they need to be taught about safe practices.

For years, I’ve avoided divulging my number to women because I believed the magazines that said the topic would generate drama. The first time I shared the number with a (monogamous) GF there was an unexpected result. She had been with a greater number of partners than I (which made me breathe a sigh of relief). I was happy to hear that news because I knew that she wouldn’t judge me for my number being high. The unexpected result was that she threw her higher number in my face as a brag as she suggested that she was better at sex than me. I found that laughable because it was a silly thing over which to compete. I mean, that could only be measured by a point system and again, who makes that rubric!? As I’ve written before, there is a way to determine good sex and it should be a mutual experience of cooperation, not a competition to see who out does the other in the plush arena (read: bedroom). The second (and what I thought would be my last) time I shared my number with a monogamous GF, I actually showed her the list… with dates. She saw a date that did not please her. The date was four days before she and I made our “dating” into an official relationship.* That fight kept coming back up for 12 out of the 18 months that she and I were together.

*It’s worth mentioning… Please be careful to avoid the relationship by default (RBD). Have you ever been dating someone for a while until all of the others faded away and you were dating exclusively as a matter of fact instead of a matter of choice? It happens to people all of the time. I hear one of my friends refer to their new (fill in the blank with a gender)friend and I ask, “Did you guys have the sit down?” The sit down is much like the scene in mafia flicks. Two people should sit down and agree to terms, territories, boundaries, and forms of respect to name a few talking points. This applies to both Polyamorists and Monogamists. RBD couples often have the fight that involves one party being confused. “I didn’t know that would upset you!”, one of them will scream. Talk about your boundaries and what you expect from the relationship before you call it a relationship.

There tends to be a Puritanical shame associated with a certain number of sexual partners that applies to all of us. However, women seem to have it worse in that realm of judgment. Women have been conditioned to believe that they’re somehow subhuman for having more than 3 sexual partners in their whole goddamned life! I asked my friend S about her take on the matter and she had this to say: “There is most definitely still a double standard when it comes to expectations for number of sexual partners for men and women. For women, there is still a lot of slut shaming if the number is high (whatever that is interpreted to mean). And yet there isn’t even really a term we use for slut shaming men. Men are expected to have a higher sex drive than women, and that is supposed to translate into seeking out sex more often and having more partners. Women are supposed to be more relationship focused and desire fewer partners.” I find the dearth of research on women’s sexual health (and sexual pleasure) to be frustrating. How many prescription drugs can you name that work to improve a woman’s libido? If you answered, “not as many as there are drugs designed to improve a man’s libido” you have won the grand prize! Bush 3.0 made some jackass comment about, “I’m not sure we need half a billion dollars for women’s health issues.” We need to learn about all humans and it makes loads of sense to learn about the humans that can produce more humans (if they choose).

S went on to state, “While there are some people who would be offended? Upset? Turned off? by anyone who had what they considered to be a high number of sex partners, I would wager a guess that those same people would be more likely to cut some slack for men than for women with those numbers. Comedians like Amy Schumer can point this out through their comedy & bring attention to it that way. But mostly, I don’t see our society changing much in this way. It’s the same old same old double standard.” Because I was curious, I asked, “Has anyone shamed you, directly, in this regard?” She then responded, “No. Honestly, I haven’t had many (any??) times when people directly asked me for the number. But, because of this double-standard, I am less likely to offer it.”

This blog was written in hopes that all humans of all genders will shake off the stigma that comes along with the miles on their physical vessel. When my last car turned 100,000 miles, I took her (“Carmen”) on a road trip up to Seattle in celebration of her high number. When I spoke about that 100,000 miles, I recalled fond memories from black ice on a freeway in New Mexico, to surviving an accident, to driving around three different states. When you speak about your number of sexual partners, think about all of the lessons you’ve learned along the way. Recall fondly the enamored experience of whispered musings, multiple orgasms, tears of joy, and the laughs when someone cut a fart loose. Not all of your sexual memories may be positive or even pleasant. But, all of our past experiences have gotten us to this point and let’s hope that we’re stronger for it. Your journey is nothing in which to find shame. Fuck the magazines. Talk about your number with your partner(s). If they try to shame you into thinking that your number is high remember that it’s not up to them to set that bar. Fuck ’em. If they try to suggest that your number should be higher, take note that this person doesn’t accept you as yourself. Fuck ’em. I’m proud to say that my number is… none of your damned business! I’m even prouder to say that my number is… not a secret from any of my partners.

Thanks for reading! Come out to see me perform tonight!

Upcoming Burlesque Performances

Red Hots Burlesque, Friday, 1/22 @ Beatbox, San Francisco
Red Hots Burlesque, Sunday, 1/31 @ Piano Fight, San Francisco
The Garter Room, Thursday, 2/4 @ The Legionnaire Saloon, Oakland
No Cover Cabaret, Friday, 2/5 @ Skylark Bar, San Francisco

Hubba Hubba Revue, Monday, 2/8 @ DNA Lounge (Upstairs), San Francisco
Briefs Erotic Film Competition After Party, Thursday, 2/11 @ The Uptown, Oakland
Hubba Hubba Revue, Monday, 2/22 @ DNA Lounge (Upstairs), San Francisco
Hubba Hubba Revue/Bootie, Saturday, 3/5 @ DNA Lounge (Main Stage), San Francisco
Hubba Hubba Revue, Saturday, 4/8 @ DNA Lounge (Main Stage), San Francisco
Red Hots Burlesque, Friday, 5/6 @ Beatbox, San Francisco

Red Hots Burlesque, Sunday, 5/8 @ Piano Fight, San Francisco
Red Hots Burlesque, Sunday, 5/15 @ Piano Fight, San Francisco
Red Hots Burlesque, Friday, 5/20 @ Beatbox, San Francisco
Red Hots Burlesque, Friday, 5/27 @ Beatbox, San Francisco
3-2-1… Sizzle!, Friday, 12/16 @ The Comedy Spot, Sacramento

Portraits Of Gratitude

There are times when I sit down and write without a goal or promise to myself. In that freeform mode of thinking (often fueled by whiskey) I write some interesting truths. A day or so later, I revisit the cathartic release to wrap my head around what was wrapped around my head. Sometimes, I leave what I’ve written untouched and unedited. Other times, I edit and present it to those that care to read it in hopes that my words resonate with an audience somewhere on the planet. For this week’s post, I’d like to share the (quasi edited for clarity, yet still the same as the first draft) freeform words that were inspired by a love from my past, a first kiss from a woman that sees what others don’t, pulsing orgasms, silent eye contact that speaks volumes, and the inexplicable feeling of fullness that comes from hope.

Portraits Of Gratitude

I see you
in the portraits of a past love.
I hear you
proclaimed aloud from an internal monologue that fears ridicule.
Thank you
is whispered from my heart and my eyes after every kiss.
Kisses that sting my lips
like warm whiskey
or bright nights that follow overcast days.
The moon reflects the sun
to burn the skin of vampires
that dare to dance in its light.
I’m grateful for your light.
I’m grateful for your love.
I’m honored that you see me.
You see my humanity
above and before any other aesthetic
and in portraits you see my smile.
My smile is whispering “thank you”
for seeing me as a human.
My love for you
ends not with a parting of ideals.
My love for you
can not be created.
My love for you
can not be destroyed.
Instead my love transforms
from one form to another.
Instead my love remains hidden
behind the wall of pride.
(I’ve been told that love is stronger.)
Popcorn will suit me as I sit back and enjoy the battle.

When I kiss you,
I want you to remember this feeling.
I want you to remember my name.
I want you to hear the music my body is playing for you.
If you could just stand a bit closer,
now closer still.
Grant me the gift of your gaze
and speak your mind without speaking a word.
I know love now
as I knew love then.
The love I know now
is unlike when I was willing to die for her.
Now, it is for her I live.
For her, I’ll dance as if everyone is watching
and I’ll make eye contact as I work it.
I’ll tell my story of how she feels in me.
She is an elixir consumed without warning,
killing me, yet in the smallest most delicate way imaginable.
“What have you done to me?”, I asked not seeking a correct answer.

May I hear your voice?
In my ear,
whisper those two sweet words
when I’m near.
When I’m there
tell me,
“Right there!”
and I’ll respond by staying
in a place that fills you
and pleases you
and honors you.
As I flashback on these portraits of gratitude,
I see you.
I see your vulnerability
and your willingness
to give yourself as a gift.
I thank you.

I’m Not A Real Man

What does it take to be a real man? I don’t know. For all of the gentlemen reading this, I have bad news. You’ll never know either. In my search for a Primary Partner, I’ve come across a specific phrase that has never sat well with me. It’s the phrase “real man” and of equal annoyance is the phrase “real woman.” These terms annoy me for the same reason that I’m bothered to hear anyone say, “why can’t people just be normal.” Well, boring human, who is to be tasked with defining normalcy, you and your khaki pants? God, I hope not. I’m stating the obvious when I mention that any proclamation of realness or normalcy is subjective!

To all of the thin/skinny women that are reading this, I’m sure you’ve heard that real women have curves. False women have no curves. WTF!? We’re all curvy. You don’t have to spend much time in nature to know that there are no (true) right angles in nature. All of nature has curves, all humans have curves, thin/skinny women have curves. Body shaming and body politics are weapons that can be aimed in any direction and unfortunately no one is safe. A greater degree of curvature in a person’s physical dimensions doesn’t make them a better human and certainly no more real than anyone else. A lesser degree of curvature in a person’s physical dimensions shouldn’t devalue their existence. The worst assumption to make about someone’s body is that they’re sick. I hear women of a certain body type referring to thin/skinny women as “anorexic” and that’s just shitty. There aren’t many people that are qualified to diagnose at a glance. So, don’t confuse your personal judgment with what should be a clinical diagnosis. All of the aforementioned topics are much bigger issues than this post is attempting to combat. Discuss amongst yourselves. Thank you for allowing my side rant digression.

To all of the men that are reading this, I’m sure you’ve been tasked by your village elders to be a real man since you could walk. It’s an interesting burden. Here’s some of the input that I’ve seen on t-shirts and overheard in conversations. I’ve read/heard that real men… wear black, wear pink, don’t cry, call their mother on Sunday, and can chop down a tree… with their huge penis… in a snow storm… while firing their rifle at some big game Unicorn to thin out their herd. The peculiar part is that these statements are often made by women. Regardless of how you identify or your preferred pronoun, there is a societal expectation that comes along with being a male. Society expects me to be the protector that walks a woman through a “tough” neighborhood to her car. At the end of a show, I volunteer to walk ladies to their cars because I was raised to be a gentleman, not as proof of manhood. But, what makes me better suited to protect her? Bullets pierce male flesh as well, does that make me less of a man for admitting that? The difference is that I have the misperception of a potential attacker on my side. Standing 5′ 11″ tall (I’ll never lie about my height… more on that later), just shy of 200 pounds, and brown-skinned gives most assholes pause when considering their approach. Body politics also applies to those of us that appear to be fit and of a certain complexion. I’m not a violent person. But, I’m truly tired of hearing people say, “Jet would kick my ass!” That statement makes me want to slap fools. I really would not kick anyone’s ass. I haven’t been in a fight since the 6th grade and I didn’t start that one. Just to be clear, I’m not lamenting my appearance. I chose this body with intentional activities (some time after 6th grade) and no one has started a fight with me since.

It’s worth mentioning… I have several motivators for a fit lifestyle. Childhood bullies on the playground was not the sole source of my fit-spiration.

To all of the womanizers that are reading this, your behavior has been stereotyped as a habit of males. Yes, that means that female womanizers have been jeered as, “acting like a man” when they practice unethical non-monogamy. As a male, society expects me to pursue women in the courting process. In the online dating world, women rarely send the first message. In the real-life dating world, women still say things like, “when are you going to ask me out?” Is it not 2016? Why are women still waiting for men to make the first move? Survey time! Ask all of your friends that are female (or identify as female) if they initiate the courting process (I’m aware that courting is a dated term, but to my knowledge a better one has yet to make its way into the lexicon; dating has too many definitions). Post your empirical findings (no assumptions) in the comments below. I hope that I’m wrong. I hope that the majority of women are getting things started. But, based on my first-hand experiences they are not. The vicious cycle men face is that society expects us to make the first move, (our peers) question our manhood if we don’t, and if/when we do a crass job in our approach we are criticized for harassing behavior. When the average man tries to understand what he’s done wrong, he seeks counsel with other men (circle jerk much?) which exacerbates the problem as they all piss and moan about what they’re owed by women. “Bro, what’s her problem?” Spoiler alert! Women owe men nothing. No human owes anyone anything.

The part of the story many women don’t want to read is that men have been pressured by their peers to treat women as conquests since the onset of puberty. I distinctly recall peer pressure to “hit that” or “holla at her” when I was in my early teens. I’ve never been a fan of undue pressure. I opted not to have many Bros as friends when I realized the stock that surrounded me. Let me be clear, this isn’t a feel sorry for the patriarchy post. “Oh, poor men have it so rough!” Nope. That’s not what I’m saying. This is more like a, #YesAllMen have been societally conditioned to harass #YesAllWomen post. I’m saying that there are multiple angles to every story. For any woman reading this, have you ever asked why men harass women? Not, why they’re harassing you, but why men cat call and why they tend to get worse when they’re surrounded by their Peers/Bros? Here’s the equation. (Pack mentality + peer pressure to pursue/objectify women + treating women like a conquest to be pursued) – alternative female POV to highlight a woman’s perception of such crass pursuits = ass/hattery^2.  If womanizing defines a real man, I hope to never be a real man.

It’s worth mentioning… That there are some men reading this that want to take offense and derail the post by arguing #NotAllMen If my words don’t apply to you, I’m not talking about you. I’m not talking to you. STFU. Don’t manufacture butt hurt feels and make this about you.

The interesting conundrum such real man pressure creates is that it becomes difficult to relate to and love women if the man agrees to his conditioning to objectify women. My challenge to the real men reading this is that you create some platonic bonds with genders other than your own.

Earlier in the post I mentioned my, just shy of six feet tall, height. I’ve found that reading women’s preferences in men has been a basic breakdown of the Hollywood male archetype. All of the ladies want the man that is 6+ feet tall. The story I hear more often than any from frustrated female friends is about the short guy that lied on his profile that he was 6′ tall only to find that he was 5’10” and wearing Timberland boots in person. Survey time! Ask everyone you know that dates men what their ideal (specific) height is for their match. Post your findings below. Does it take 6 feet to make a real man?

To tie a bow on this entire post, I’m not here to criticize women for having preferences in a male partner. I encourage everyone (especially women) to ask for what they want. There’s a difference between asking for and expecting, sight unseen. What I’m suggesting is that the concept of realness (real men or real women) creates an environment of exclusivity. Desired subjective realness makes pariah out of those of us that just choose to dance to our own rhythms. In my dating past, my rapid disappointments came from the women that wanted a real man. I mean to say that she had a pre-determined idea of what a man – more specifically what a boyfriend – should be. The act of creating the perfect man on paper creates the trap of the pre-existing mold. When I didn’t fit into a mold I had never seen there were lots of, “you should’ve said it this way” conversations that felt like script coaching with a film director.

To all who are reading this, you’re allowed to seek exactly what you desire, just try not to expect it. What if your perfect partner were an inch shorter or a shade darker than the image that exists in your mind? Would you turn them away? You’re allowed to want your ideal partner to be exactly this or specifically that, just know the difference between a want and a need. I’d like to challenge you to consider the length of your wish list. I once knew of a frustrated single person that had a wish list that was 200 items long! When this person dated, it didn’t last. Try this, allow the people you meet to be themselves. See and embrace their flaws and let them express gratitude, regret, passion, and love in their own words without script coaching. I’ve been dating for 25+ years and my best version of myself is my most honest self. When my honesty is limited, my partner doesn’t receive the best version of me. Some of my greatest loves have commented on our spectacular connection. I just thanked them for letting me be myself instead of some arbitrary subjective real man as defined by society. Being myself is the best way I know how to be a good human and a compassionate partner. I’ll never drink the blood of Unicorns after bench pressing an over-tanned bikini model on Venice Beach as a testament to manhood. I’ll never be a real man and I couldn’t be happier!

Announcements for 2016!

Happy New Year! I’ve been in the lab plotting and planning some changes for 2016. I’m not talking about macro-level changes that will redefine who I am or how I identify. Instead, I’m talking about micro-level changes that will raise a few eyebrows and maybe perk up a few nipples. I’ve experienced a spectacular 2015 and I look forward to upward mobility in a fantastic 2016!

It’s worth mentioning… Please be sure to shut down any of those people, including yourself, that (every year) talk shit about old year while claiming that new year will be, inexplicably, better. People who go through this annual lament never reflect on the fact that they said the same damned thing last year. They just can’t have it both ways. If you consistently reflect on your year in review to remember the cat shit and piss-soaked litter, you’ll overlook the pussy snuggles. Is Pussy Snuggles a band name? It should be. I’d buy tickets.

At any rate, check out this good shit! Here are some announcements for your socks and the blowing off of them.

School I’m (sort of) done with school. On Monday, December 7th, 2015, I turned in my last final for any class at Cal State University. I have completed all requirements for a BS in Kinesiology! I’m finally (sort of) done with school. Some of you know that I moved up here (to the Bay Area) with a three phase plan to change my life situation. Phase 1: Complete my tenure in the restaurant industry, pay off debt, save money, and retire from that industry. Estimated completion time: Three years (2010-2013). Actual time: Two years (2010-2012) because I hated my little shit of a GM and the company was dicking me around and showing no appreciation for my hard work. I quit, threw myself a retirement party (to drive home the point that I’m never returning to that industry), and I haven’t looked back. Phase 2: Earn my BS Kinesiology from Cal State East Bay. Estimated completion time: Two years (2013-2015). Actual time: Three years (2012-2015) because the Cal State system makes students take classes that have nothing to do with their degree program because, reasons. I’m not bitter. 😉 Phase 3: Earn my DPT (Doctorate Physical Therapy). That phase has since changed to MOT (Masters Occupational Therapy). Estimated completion time: two-three years (2015-2017/2018). Actual start time won’t be until 2017 because I still have to take some pre-reqs before applying (thanks again, Cal State) and the application period is in the Fall for the following Fall. With all of that said, I’m moving on to the next phase of school. But, I have finished one giant leap (that is a band name).

Online-liness The hub of my other websites (JetNoirMuse.com) has had a few aesthetic changes, music addition, and link updates. The blog (as I’m sure you’ve noticed) has changed its title to JetNoirWeekly.com Why? This way, it’s easier for people to remember and visit. Since purchasing that domain, I’ve had a lot more visitors! No need to change any of your bookmarks or RSS feed subscriptions. You’ll still get it just the way you like it, hot, deep, and just after midnight! So, take a look at the new layout with some cool links on the left. Be sure to tell your friends. Do you know why Germany is 2nd on the list of page views for JNW behind America? My friend has been forwarding my blog to his friends in Munich! Keep sending those links out to increase readership. Some of you have asked me about writing a book. I’d be open to that. But, first let’s get some more followers to get the publishers interested. 😉

Posting Self-Love BodyFaming.com has received a new submission bringing the project to a total of three! Will someone please send this website to Oprah so that she can help promote!? In the meanwhile, #BodyFaming will be getting a promotional boost from the front page of EastBayExpress.com Keep an eye out for that and please continue to spread the word about this project designed to change the conversations on body shaming. Let’s be proud of our physical vessel, despite societal standards.

Anti-Social Media I’ve (sort of) returned to Social Media. Let me start by saying, “Fuck, Facebook!” I still stand by that statement. For any Burlesque performer that has been kicked off of FB due to their real names policy, remember, they don’t want us there. Anything burlesque-ish with a bra on will be flagged as #porn and FB will take it down. However, “fitness models” can wear wet t-shirts and show penis pubes without such flags! WTF? Fuck those guys. Instead, I’ve returned to Twitter due to a class assignment. I kept it going when I remembered that there’s no moral policing on Twitter. My friends that work in the adult industry post all of their NSFW pics. I can post all of my nudes without worry of getting flagged. You can follow me @JetNoirMuse

Put This On Do you want my Jism* all over your chest? (*Jism is a Jet-ism, obviously, you pervs!) Check out JetNoir.Spreadshirt.com for shirts with my quotable Jet-isms (Jisms) imprinted on the front! “What’s the best that could happen?” Click on the link above (or on one of the aforementioned sites) to find out.

I look forward to growing this year (in many senses of the word) and meeting your friends, if only, virtually.