Many girls, young women, and women (or whatever the f**k you call yourself) are completely and utterly lost in sex. And I don’t mean lost in a good way. My friends often quizzically ask what makes me so sure of myself in bed, and then follow it up with the famous “how do I know I’m good?” It’s odd because I personally know exactly where I’m at, and have no trouble finding the areas I’m weaker at and working on them, so I often get confused by this question. I have often been employed as the sex-guru of choice by my friends, and have enjoyed sharing and giving them advice on how to embrace their inner slut slash goddess and enchant the special someone. Or not so special someone. Generally just the opposite or same sex (the sex of interest, if you will). So how do you know you’re good? Firstly, the guy will tell you (or make it very obvious, think body language!). Yep, its’ as simple as that! If he liked it, I guarantee you will know! Now I’m being very general here, but men are not as complicated as we think they are. The thing is we women always overthink things; try to analyze every bloody little detail. If he didn’t like it, you’ll probably know too. Or find out from someone else. Whom he told. Ouch. Those kinds of guys are probably not worth it. But how to avoid them? Easy. Get in touch with yourself, learn to understand yourself, what turns you on and off, and all of that, and work on it. This will then help you become sexually more powerful and learn to take control of the other party’s… hormones? So, how? Masturbate. You heard me. Watch porn. Buy a vibrator. Sound scary or dirty (and not in a good way)? You have some serious catching up to do! Something I am always extremely intrigued by is when I talk to people about sex (yes I do it a lot, and to anyone who will listen, about anything, with great enthusiasm), is when girls look confused when the topic of masturbation pops up, and follow up the confusion with an exclamation of “ew, no!”, “I really rarely do!” or most disturbingly, and yes I’ve heard it, “I don’t know how!” Girls, its easy, its fun, its not gross and sometimes a really good sleeping pill replacement. And yes, believe it or not, getting to know yourself will greatly help you improve at sex. To be perfectly honest with you, I watch more porn than the average guy (but I go through periods where I give it a rest to build up the frustration and not over saturate my mind with unrealistic expectations). And at the end of the day, we all know most guys watch a shit load of porn. Don Jon anyone? He is the average dude. And porn is all good and nice but we can all agree that it isn’t very realistic, and often has nothing to do with love or respect, or equality of the sexes for that matter. So where do we place the limit? I watch some pretty raunchy stuff, and I don’t have a problem with admitting it. Why? Because I’m not embarrassed about my sexuality. I love sex. I love sex with myself, with guys, with my computer, its all good. And that’s what makes me so powerful towards the opposite sex. Now I am not saying I’m some sex goddess, but I know when to cut loose and be myself. I know how they think, because I think the same. BUT, I know where to draw the line. At the beginning of a relationship, I pull out my dirtiest tricks, act the sluttiest and basically make the kinds of sounds Alexis Texas & Co. are very familiar with. And guys love it! Once they’re keen, you can start exploring other types of sex. Nobody likes a starfish! I have heard the words “you’re the best I’ve ever had” many times. And where did I get all of my savvy from? Porn and flicking the…you know I hate that expression but you get my drift (I hope). And spending loads of time with my male friends and asking loads of awkward questions in my youth. I guess I also got let in on all the big no-nos, and knew more about some girls than they did themselves. But that’s another chapter. So, ladies, its really not rocket science. I’m not trying to intimidate you here, I’m trying to help you out. When you and another person can let your sexuality run wild, the most amazing things can happen. And sex really is one of the most essential parts of a relationship. So take the harness off your inner beast, you’ll be amazed by what you can do! 

So you’ll soon figure out that I am not your average girl (woman?), in fact I am far from average. My friends call me weird so often, that I have started taking it as a compliment and added it to my resume. I mean I am pretty effing strange. But being ordinary is boring too, ladies and gents. I get invited to many places because my company is apparently delightful and entertaining. So that’s what it is. I’m entertainment. It might originate from the fact that I have grown up with a stand up comedian as a dad, and am immune to the emotional spectrum linked to embarrassment and civility. I have grown up quite well, attended prestigious schools with prestigious people, and despite everyone’s combined efforts to turn me into a sophisticated lady, I have remained the same old idiot who enjoys doing the activities concentrated at the apex of the pyramid of stupidity and bad ideas. I am a firm believer in male genitalia and designer heels. I love video games, preferably ones which involve cars and/or shooting things, am not really great at either (no I am not a fucking gamer girl), I love fishing, drunken bar fights, laughing at idiots (other idiots I should say, but seeing as I am a self proclaimed one I’m off the hook, and I prefer having things on my hook, be it hunks or fish), trying to do things which are considered as unhealthy or reserved for people the likes of Steve O and Johnny Knoxville (and the Jackass gang), I mean I could give you examples (trying to hot wire abandoned cars, catch snakes, piss sharks off, yes I honestly have), but I’d just be rambling on for ages. So in other words, I am a serious tomboy.  I don’t really look like one, but trust me, I am. The aspects of myself which hint that I am, in fact, a female, are my love for shopping, spending money I don’t have, complaining, sloppy romantic comedies, being occasionally needy and stuffing my face with high quality Swiss chocolate when I’m feeling exceptionally crap about myself (Swiss chocolate not because I’m a snob but because I’m part Swiss and honestly do you expect me to eat anything lesser when my culture has mastered the perfect chocolate formula?). Usually when its that (F*#%?“*) time of the month. The things that do make me feel better then are that my guy (of the moment) tells me how my boobs look even bigger (Than my bloated stomach, fat arse, fat thighs, lovehandles, fat rolls, rolls of fat, Rolls Royce? No I wish but I do get horribly self critical), girls will understand. That was irrelevant but I felt like I needed to throw a little piece of information in which would help you relate to me, the manipulative son of a bitch (daughter? My mothers not really a bitch) that I am.  So where does that leave us. You’re reading one of the strangest introductions ever made available to mankind (I already told you, weird is now registered in the column below good, amazing and perfect), either laughing because you can relate to me or find me profoundly moronic, or shaking your head in disgust because you are perfect and what could a weirdo like me possibly say to improve your life? Nothing, so get the f**k out of here you perfect little f**k, I’m proud of you. The rest of you, stay tuned.