bitch talk

23rd April
written by Dame Suzy

I’m pretty sure they aren’t just Spanish women. Most are likely tourists. Mingling among the lean or skinny Spanish boys, they look like hippos running amuck in a garden, trampling on its splendor. So where are the fat men? Smart and kind enough to stay away from the clubs – thank you! Fat women are not as considerate. And they are smart enough to know that some Spanish boys will be desperate enough to settle for a fat chick as Spanish women are not known for their eagerness to hook up. Thanks to us vagina-endowed travelers, fat or thin, Spanish guys and we can get laid.

24th November
written by Dame Suzy

When I buy something from the store and take it home, I want to be able to open it without issue. But oftentimes, the outdated packaging design forces me to dig around for scissors to open the toilet paper, a bag of cookies, or a bag of cereal. Some things have changed. Chunky brand soup cans have a pull-off top, which almost always spits drops of soup everywhere when you get that last part to pull off completely. Some bags have little slits in them that supposedly allow you to rip and open there, but don’t always work. Plastic tabs on bottle caps often break half-way, being useless, and I am amazed at how often there is packet inside of a box that is still childproof. What the fuck? Let me get to the stuff I bought, please! The Japanese are masters of allowing you to access your goods. Even cheap electronic items are housed in plastic cases with a hinge that functions! They aren’t melted shut. Chocolates have beautiful packaging and inside are individually seated chocolate delights. We, instead, have M&M’s that have a waxy lipstick flavor and a stale or lackluster peanut inside. The Italians also house lovely things in easy-to-open packages. Thank you! Now can someone bring some of this common sense to the United States and reduce my frustration?

18th November
written by Dame Suzy

I have considered myself a form of racist for several years. But I realized I didn’t know exactly what the definition was. The Free Dictionary’s definition of racism is:

1. The belief that race accounts for differences in human character or ability and that a particular race is superior to others.
2. Discrimination or prejudice based on race.

I don’t share the belief in the first definition. I do, however, engage in the second.

What about prejudice? The definition from the same site is:

a. An adverse judgment or opinion formed beforehand or without knowledge or examination of the facts.
b. A preconceived preference or idea.
2. The act or state of holding unreasonable preconceived judgments or convictions.

Yes, I do relate to both subdefinitions in the first entry. I would relate to the second if “unreasonable” were replaced by “reasonable.” It would read:

The act or state of holding reasonable preconceived judgments or convictions.

I didn’t grow up with prejudices. In my Midwestern high school, there were only a handful of each – Asians, blacks, Jews, and Hispanics. I often forgot I was Asian unless someone I didn’t know taunted me, which was rare. There were no cliques based on race. There weren’t enough of us.

It was only in college where there were large percentages of minorities that I learned stereotypes from my peers. But I have come to the conclusion that these stereotypes are not really bad. Because an individual can always reinforce or disprove them. And I am happy when I am proven wrong, because it makes the person more intriguing.

I can say that generally I get along with Jews sexually but not socially. They tend to be controlling and greedy, which is interesting in the bedroom but not in the conference room. The women are a little bitchy. I don’t get along with Asians, either the nerdy ones, the religious ones, or the cool ones. I find myself too different from them, too bold, too independent. Black men intrigue me but we have very little in common. I’ve met many smart ones, so that’s not an issue. Black women I meet tend to be intelligent and a little stand-offish. Northern Indians are snobby, but one was my best friend. Texans I find not to be very bright, but that’s partly because of their unique brand of butchering the English language which perhaps I should just accept as a dialect.

Any prejudices I hold can immediately be proven wrong with just one experience. In Paris, I found people very helpful when I was lost, even if I didn’t ask. Even in the rain, a woman walked with me a block to find my little hotel. I met some Arab-French boys in Paris, and because they were trying to drug me and have their way with me, I immediately thought that Arabs were scum. But the next night I met a smoking hot Arab-Spanish boy who was very, very sweet and non-rapist, and had the most perfect muscular body I have ever seen in my life from his fingers to his toes. He had the perfect triangular patch of soft hair that showed no evidence of being trimmed or shaved ever. He was naturally just perfect. And great in bed. And a great kisser. And a great dresser…

So if I can make an assumption about a person based on his/her race to avoid wasting my time, so be it. I leave it to the individual to convince me otherwise.

16th November
written by Dame Suzy

I’ve been forced to look further into the new airport security measure of full body detection machines. I thought it was used on the few passengers pulled aside randomly. But I was wrong. It looks like it’s being used instead of the metal detector you pass through. In which case, wow. Each time you go through a security checkpoint you get a tiny bit of radiation.

What bothers me most is that these things are used to detect bombs hidden, say, in underwear. And the thing is, who is blowing up these planes? Why be politically correct in regards to safety? Do special scanning on anyone who looks at you weird, is ugly, is dark-skinned, has a big wart on her face that could be an explosive. I don’t care. But don’t pretend like as a society we’re being blind to differences by either scanning everyone or randomly picking out the pudgy white mom with the two toddlers hanging on her.

And another thing, explosives don’t just go off as soon as you light them. They need to ignite. So, frankly, if somebody is lighting up anything including his crotch in the plane, other people are going to stop him.

Stop making air travel such a pain in the ass just to be politically correct. Catch the bad guys.

11th November
written by Dame Suzy

No, I’m not dead. The last few days I’ve been suffering from an at-times high fever and big headache, and have only been somewhat comprehensible. I’m forcing myself to write this little bit before I nap again.

So a guy I met in Barcelona two years ago – a very handsome Roman – and a random conversation exchange partner whom I barely ever got to chat with tried to add me as a BADOO friend. So I researched it, and I thought what the heck?

I find badoo worse than MySpace, worse than AdultFriendFinder, which I think it is trying hard to emulate. You essentially get spammed a two-word phrase by someone who simply responds to your picture. You get a lot of these, mostly from people with a horrible profile pic or horrible face. The one good thing about it is, like Facebook, the main page isn’t cluttered, but unlike Facebook, you have to login to read any message, in my case a bunch of “Hey,” “Hi,” and other lame shit from people I wouldn’t glance at twice.

Talk about time waster! I did send a message to the Roman a few days back but haven’t heard back from him. What’s the point? Conclusion: Badoo is for flaky people. Best for dudes with awesome upper bodies who just want to get laid. And the not-so-pretty chicks they will fuck.

30th October
written by Dame Suzy

No, it wasn’t with would-be Parisian-Algerian gang rapists. And the best time I’d had was when I got into a car with a bunch of Catalans. So what was the worst ride?

New York, last weekend, with Canadian investment bankers.

It started out well. After watching The Social Network in IMAX, I was dropped off in the Meat Packing District, which the cab driver told me had been transformed in the last five or seven years into a nightlife mecca.

I had a lovely mojito at some bar and started talking to a cute boy with dark hair. I was introduced to several of his colleagues, including a hot guy and a super-tiny Asian girl, who ended up having a higher rank than many dudes much taller than she was. They all worked for an Australian investment bank and most were Canadian. That wasn’t in and of itself a problem, and certainly the cute guy and hot one were much more intriguing to me than the fish out of water guy in a bad suit and butt-ugly tie, who otherwise was very good-looking. Why oh why do good-looking guys cock-block themselves by acting dumb or wearing ugly clothes?

Anyway, I flirted a lot with the cute one, and I was wearing a dress that probably no one else in the city was wearing that night. Straps and criss-cross ties, tiny studs in a tattoo pattern down the sleeves, short but in good taste, showing off just an inch or two of healthy décolletage.

Then the twenty of them decided to go to another place and jumped into five taxis. I stupidly chose one without the cute or hot guys, thinking shortly we’d all be together, and anyway, who wants to look too interested in someone? That’s not cool.

Then began a journey to nowhere, a twenty-minute ride to a place that wasn’t open, then another twenty minutes back to the place from where we had started except that the cab driver had made a mistake because my companions didn’t know where they were going, then my bladder simply being unable to handle yet another twenty minutes so I exited at some random bar where I talked with random uninteresting guys. And at three o’clock, a sigh and a taxi back to bed.

The anti-climax is the worst end to an evening. Pfffftt, like a deflating balloon or a warm piña colada.

1st October
written by Dame Suzy

These fucking idiots may have just killed a future proud father of three with a wife and two dogs, a brilliant musician, and they’ve definitely eliminated someone more worthy than themselves…

Two students, one Indian son of a bitch and the other a Chinese cunt, surreptitiously took video of male roommate Tyler Clementi getting sexual with another guy. Tyler may have been proudly gay, but he was more likely a guy not knowing, just going with his feelings. He wasn’t necessarily gay or straight. In other words, he could be like any number of people I’ve met who have told me – because I’m very open and understanding – of same-sex encounters they’ve had. It’s extremely common. Of the people I’ve met, really manly men have gone there, really girly girls have gone there. Some have just kissed,but more often they’ve gotten nude, touched, inserted something somewhere, etc. It happens too often to ignore.

What I say is that sex is sex. Enjoy it, experiment, discover. If you’re not hurting anybody, then don’t feel guilty. Had some of these people I met had a video of them out there – even if they were not at the tender age of 19 like Tyler – they may have committed suicide. In a heartbeat! Especially the manly men. Manly men aren’t supposed to do anything with other men. That’s not considered manly; that’s deviant and bad. The fact that this video was out there would affect their future relationships. Even if the guy decided he wasn’t gay or simply didn’t want to be involved with a guy, he could be considered a liar for the rest of his life. Girlfriends wouldn’t trust him, and family can be brutal.

And the fact that one of these murderers was an Asian girl makes me even madder! Maybe it shoudn’t, but Asians barely get any screen time in American movies as if we didn’t exist. I’ve been told in Europe OFTEN that they can’t believe I’m from the United States because I have an Asian face. In the land of moviemaking, Los Angeles, there are half as many Asians as there are white people and more Asians than blacks, according to the 2009 Census. But foreigners don’t see that. They see famous black people, famous white people, and conclude that black and white is America.

As mad as I am, I’m also very sad that someone’s life has been snuffed out in such a horrible way.

27th September
written by Dame Suzy

I had a dream last night that I was on a flight sitting next to a guy who was a hot action film actor. We started making out, then we got naked, and I was behind him with my arms around his muscular chest and I reached down and was disappointed to find a skinny penis shaped like a piece of rough ginger root, and it was neither hard nor soft. So awakening from that horrible dream, I decided to think about my own sexual history.

Though my experience is anecdotal at best, it is still interesting.

• In general, skinnier, shorter guys have smaller, skinnier penises and medium-to-very tall guys have average-sized penises.
• There are many exceptions.
• I have been with five very tall guys – one 6’3”, one 6’2” and three 6’1”. Two were disappointingly average since they just didn’t seem proportional. Both had very muscular bodies. One muscular guy was smaller than average but he was very sweet and had great hair! Still, small. One had a short penis that was thick – maybe 5.5” long. One, muscular but lean/thin guy was the second largest guy I’ve ever been at about 7 or 7.5” and thick. Thus, only one in five very tall guys had a larger than average penis.
• The only half-Asian/half-Caucasian guys I have ever been with (two) who were short and skinny – about 5’7” and 140 pounds – had larger (longer and thicker) penises – maybe 6.5” – than those of the average white guy.
• The largest guy I’ve ever been with, who was one-quarter Cuban, 5’7” and had a lean, muscular build, had an 8” penis that was also thick. It was difficult to get erect and get to remain erect but it was impressive to look at.
• I have no experience with full Asians or blacks, sorry. I will let you know if that changes.

As for functionality, average was best, with slightly short best for me as the owner could go deep and do well in any position which is always fun– 5-5.5”. The larger-than-average penises were lovely to look at, but are better as museum pieces than really useful. Only missionary worked okay. Also, the largest one relied on his size for sex and he had no creativity whatsoever. I gave him several opportunities to shine but he disappointed and I said goodbye.

If anyone is concerned about his being too short, there are potential solutions.

The Matters of Size website, which though heavily leaning toward making money selling product, has a legitimate-looking public forum commenting on various products and options. The comments on the main homepage, however, seem much too well-written to be random and none of the commentators’ names are clickable like they are in the forum which is suspicious.

I promise to talk more about penises later, like curvature, surgery options, and circumcision.

26th September
written by Dame Suzy

So apparently, the Mexican national team was prohibited from bringing girls back to the hotel (why?) even after the game, but disobeyed orders and did bring some. Maybe they brought fourteen prostitutes and one transvestite. Maybe the girls and boy just happened to be in the hotel and heard the noise and joined them. Who cares? What are the odds that there will be a transvestite partying with you sometime without your knowing? 100%. I know, because it happened to me. Of course, the girls I partied with were transsexuals – that’s different. But I did not realize it until I was in the taxi with them! And you know what? We had a great time! Except that one of their friends kept grabbing the front of my neck wondering if I was a transsexual myself. Sorry to disappoint but a baby came out of me. But keep partying!

25th September
written by Dame Suzy

I have the opportunity to watch Italian Serie A games, often in high resolution, but I find myself more often than not disappointed. Part of it is my ignorance of the players, so I don’t get personally involved, but I see bad play as well. Just today I saw Roma versus Inter Milan, and there are some moments and lots of shots on goal, but nothing of amazing quality minus the daring and successful header in the last seconds of stoppage time. I am familiar with Brazilian Júlio César and Marco Borriello, the man whose newest hairstyle he copied from Pepe le Pew, the famed cartoon skunk, but other than that, none of these boys sound familiar. It doesn’t help that Italy’s national team features players without reputations. I’ll give them another shot or two, but I don’t expect anything revolutionary. On the other hand, that Roma crowd is exceptional! You can imagine the roar of the crowd being similar to when gladiators ripped each other apart.