halloween pep talk 2011!

clothes that make a man INSTANTLY fuckable:

the blind leading the blind (part 72):

1. even when you’re IN a relationship, always keep tabs and a literal list of guys you want to/can sleep with if/when you’re single again. What? It doesn’t mean you don’t love the person you’re with! It just means you’re a modern, logical woman!

2. New response for when someone tells you some shit you don’t care about: “get a kickstarter bro.”

3. girls, it’s ok to talk dirty, scream, and participate during sex. Don’t just get fucked, fuck! Move your hips, pull his hair, ask him to spank you (not too hard though dudes, geeze!) Lightly push his face into your p**y, flip over, moan, whatever. Don’t worry about posing or facial expressions. Now is NOT the time!

4. milk in your green tea? Gross.

5. cultivate a personality INSTEAD of an eating disorder. Or at LEAST in ADDITION to. The only problem is that the personality that usually coincides with an eating disorder is ‘bitch’.

6. treat people the way you want to be treated. It really IS the golden rule.

7. don’t trust anyone who spells their name ‘Rodger’ or ‘Bryan’.

8. the dryer is your enemy. hand wash your delicates (this includes all the beautiful undies you own; whose lifespan you’d like to be a long one) or at least machine wash cold cold- and then lay flat to dry!

9. fb wall posts regarding dating or personal matters is such a bone head move! Direct message that shit kid. Grow a dick and learn how to use it.

10. my therapist says sarcasm is actually unresolved anger and rage. I believe him.

PS: CALL ME TONIGHT DURING ‘BOYCRAZY RADIO’ 9PM PST

1(646)378-0649 OR TOLL FREE 1(877)569-3588

YOU CAN EVEN CALL ME USING GMAIL OR SKYPE

 

 

reader submission – it started as a one night stand:

It started as a one night stand and now I’m married. The chronology is
still a bit blurry. But, let’s get a few details straight- I love him.
I don’t regret marrying him and I don’t resent him for getting me to
this place. But, nonetheless, I’m really not the marrying type and
neither is he.

Like I said previously, we started out in that awkward margin. I met
him at the local dive bar; he was working behind it and I was drunk
because of him (and not in the romantic sense). The night was fuzzy…
But it was something about his hands. He definitely was never my type
and still isn’t. He wore camo shorts and a nasty, ill-fitting
Clockwork Orange t-shirt. My friends called him dirty so I went home
with him, mainly because the sex was bound to be epic- it always is
with the unkempt ones. And it was good for a drunken romp. I figured
I’d never speak to him again and so I pulled out all of the stops
(isn’t that breaking the first sexual encounter rule?). I got on top,
I tugged on his balls, and I even let him finish in my mouth. I felt
dirty just being in his bare room, fucking on his futon with a
fluorescent bulb making me look even more haggard than I felt and
Sonic Youth playing in the background. And that was exciting. Or maybe
dangerous. Both?

After it was over, I awkwardly climbed off of the futon, threw on my
clothes, said “thanks for, uh, that…”, and started to leave.
“Wait. Shouldn’t I get your phone number or something?”
I turned around and gave him my best attempt at a smirk. I felt as if
all of the Jameson I had consumed earlier that night was suddenly
turning on me in the most vicious way and I had to get out of there.
“That was fun and all, but I don’t date people who I fuck for fun.” It
had sounded better in my head. My tongue felt like it was expanding
and the room was twirling in that maniacal sort of manner.

I expected him to look hurt but, instead, he laughed. And it was genuine. Shit.
“Sure, I get it. Ok, well, come into the bar sometime. I’ll buy you a drink.”
And that was it. I puked all over his stained carpet (proof that I may
not have been the only one) and then left without offering to clean up
my mess. It wasn’t the nonchalant, sexy exit that I had pictured in my
head, by any means.

Anyway, I suppose you could say that the rest is history. His hands
brought me back into his bar. The Jameson got me back onto his futon.
And his genuine laugh got me down the aisle. It’s gross, I know. At
least I still hate that fucking Clockwork Orange t-shirt.

JOIN THE I’M BOYCRAZY CONVERSATION! 

IF YOU WANNA SUBMIT SOMETHING, I’D LOVE TO SEE IT AND POST IT!

I PREFER VIDEO SUBMISSIONS- UNDER 3 MINUTES:

AND THIS DOESN’T MEAN YOU SEXY/SILLY DANCING IN FRONT OF YOUR COMPUTER!

TELL ME SOMETHING! WHAT ARE YOU FEELING/NOTICING?

WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? WHAT’S BOTHERING YOU?

E MAIL ME @ boycrazyalexi@gmail.com

write ‘make it YOURS monday’ in the heading (for videos)

OR ‘reader submission’ (for written submissions)

PS:

• follow me on twitter @imboycrazy

• call me and leave a voice message: 888 666-2045

(ask me a question, tell me a secret, or say something neat)

I LOVE YOU

TONIGHT: ‘BOYCRAZY RADIO’!

CALL ME… TONIGHT…

WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 19, 2011

DURING BOYCRAZY RADIO

9PM PST/12AM EST

JUST CLICK HERE TO LISTEN

DIAL:

1(646) 378-0649

OR CALL TOLL FREE:

1(877) 569-3588

ps: if you’re in another country,

you can call me using gmail or skype!

pps: if you can’t call during the show,

leave me a message on my NEW toll free

‘boycrazy voice-mailbox’ 1(888)666-2045

we’ll bro out, role play,

and discuss ALL your love, sex, dating,

and life dilemmas!

Listen to internet radio with Alexi Wasser on Blog Talk Radio

reader submission:

Dear Alexi,
This is not part of my “submission” per se — just wanted to let you know how much I love love love your blog. I want so badly to be loved and so far just keep getting fucked, especially since I don’t try to hide the fact that I love sex and am not a “wait until the third date” kind of girl. I am scared and lonely and hopeful and ready all at once, and I feel very at home when I read about your experiences. I broke up with a guy (I think) this week who I was falling in love with, and this is what I was thinking about today…thought after all the stories you’ve shared with me, you should have one of mine. Love you.

________________________________________________

I promised that once I got too attached again, I’d end it. I did, so I did. But in my effort to minimize the hurt headed my way, I still ended up crying myself to sleep, drunk off my ass on a Monday night. I woke up the next morning and try to piece together the events. Did I break up with you before or after I made out with the German surfer who lives in Lisbon and is into Seattle music? I hope it was before, though I only kissed him because you made it so painfully clear that I was nothing more than a fuck buddy to you and you didn’t care what I did in my free time. I was trying to prove that I didn’t care, either.Did I even break up with you? When I woke up, your number was deleted — so were all the texts you sent and every record I had of you ever calling me. I’ve done this before, when I broke up with you the first time, so that’s why I assume that’s what happened.. Or did my phone just malfunction? Or did I catch you with some other girl and freak out and go into delete mode? Or did you break up with me? Shit, I hope that’s not what happened.It’s humiliating enough being the person who’s more in love in any given relationship. One of the few perks of that position, in my experience, is you usually get to be the one who ends it, since you’re the one who eventually gets so exhausted doing all the work, so disappointed and melancholy, that you just have to break it off. Of course, the ulterior motive in this is always that breaking up with the person will give him the jolt he needs to realize that he can’t live without you. That’s how it happens in the movies, at least. So I hope to God it wasn’t you who ended things with me. I don’t think I could survive that extra bit of hurt.Though that might be just what happened. I’ll be the first to admit that I was acting needy toward the end there, and especially that Monday night. For the record, I was acting needy because I needed you. So I’m not going to apologize for that one.

 

JOIN THE I’M BOYCRAZY CONVERSATION! 

IF YOU WANNA SUBMIT SOMETHING, I’D LOVE TO SEE IT AND POST IT!

I PREFER VIDEO SUBMISSIONS- UNDER 3 MINUTES:

AND THIS DOESN’T MEAN YOU SEXY/SILLY DANCING IN FRONT OF YOUR COMPUTER!

TELL ME SOMETHING! WHAT ARE YOU FEELING/NOTICING?

WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? WHAT’S BOTHERING YOU?

E MAIL ME @ boycrazyalexi@gmail.com

write ‘make it YOURS monday’ in the heading (for videos)

OR ‘reader submission’ (for written submissions)

PS:

• follow me on twitter @imboycrazy

• call me and leave a voice message: 888 666-2045

(ask me a question, tell me a secret, or say something neat)

I LOVE YOU

i used to be so scared…

I used to be so grateful when a guy liked me. So thankful he had put his attention on me. Until one day, I grew up and became a bit more discerning. I realized that I have a say in who I let into my life. That they should be so lucky to be inside me and a part of my world. Just because they were skinny or stylish or just, well, a dude- didn’t mean they were the be all, end all. just because they were men, and spending time with me, didn’t mean they were gods and that i had to be appreciative of the fact that they chose me. me! i don’t know exactly WHEN i realized that I’m just as important as i thought they were, but I’m so happy that day came! it’s changed me forever and for that i am grateful! Unfortunately, I really love make outs- so I still made out a ton after i had this epiphany! But at least it was much more thought out and i was the one doing the choosing.

TONIGHT: ‘BOYCRAZY RADIO’!

CALL ME… TONIGHT…

WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 12, 2011

DURING BOYCRAZY RADIO

9PM PST/12AM EST

JUST CLICK HERE TO LISTEN

DIAL:

1(646) 378-0649

OR CALL TOLL FREE:

1(877) 569-3588

ps: if you’re in another country,

you can call me using gmail or skype!

pps: if you can’t call during the show,

leave me a message on my NEW toll free

‘boycrazy voice-mailbox’ 1(888)666-2045

we’ll bro out, role play,

and discuss ALL your love, sex, dating,

and life dilemmas!

Listen to internet radio with Alexi Wasser on Blog Talk Radio

funny how things can happen…

 

Our first fight happened as we got in his car to go home after my hanging out with his friends for the first time. he snapped at me because he wanted me to stop talking. he wanted to be quiet and decompress. i understood. but it was still a bit jarring. i hate that feeling when you’re with someone new, and you think you’re safe with them because up until that point everything’s been ‘perfect’ and then out of no where that changes- even if only slightly and it makes you feel alone. even though you’re right next to this person. you’re alone, and you feel as though you always will be. that no one is safe and that the rug will always be pulled out from under you!

i held his hand, but went cold. i looked out the window as we drove home. i didn’t want him to feel abandoned because he said one little thing that i didn’t like, cuz i knew he was a good person and wasn’t evil or anything. but i was still a little shaken and acting like a little girl about to cry cuz someone raised their voice. finally, i said that it was all fine. it would just take me a minute to shake it off and that it was too soon for me to have met his friends like that. it was exhausting. i say ‘all we should just be doing right now is getting to know each other- just us. AND fucking eachother, instead of eating and acting like an old married couple!’ he agreed.

the next day, we stayed in bed… all day, listening to music, talking about dreams and goals, where we saw ourselves in ten years. i made him breakfast in bed: coffee and lumpy oatmeal. the fucking has never been so good. the things we say to eachother; it’s dirty and epic. i actually want him to fuck me without a condom on. but he doesn’t. what.a. gentleman. i tell him to cum inside me. that i want to have his baby. he doesn’t. and thank god, because i don’t. but talking like that turns me on, and apparently him too.

we were both having a love surge like crazy. we were so in sync/on the same age with how in love and how excited we were about one another. it couldn’t have gotten any better. and you know what? it didn’t. because the next day, monday, when he called me and i answered my phone… i couldn’t be happy or nice to him. i just couldn’t. something  had shifted in me and it would never come back. i would never be as happy or in love with him or as in sync as i was the previous night. just one night before, tucked up in the hills overlooking Hollywood with both our seats all the way back, turned on our sides and staring into one another’s eyes. both of us were so happy, we were holding back tears. tears of joy and for the miracle of falling in love/finding someone who could make you feel this good. but all that had ended for me, and i don’t know why. was it stress? did my heart just close up? was it all too much for me to handle? did i have to rearrange my time and priorities, and my heart just did it for me without asking? i don’t know yet. i didn’t know. but it did. and even though it officially ended weeks later- it really ended that monday. the day after the highest point in our entire whirlwind romance. a romance that had begun with a new years kiss on the night of a blue moon.

it’s scary when you don’t know why you feel what you feel; why you don’t feel what you used to feel; when you have no control over your emotions… and you wish you did.

Reader Submission (from a boy) – ‘Put Down Your Shields’:

 

Today I saw ‘The Most Beautiful Girl In The World’ (an Ideal that’s constantly shifting) working in a Bakery in Newtown.

She had AshBlonde hair, thick black eyebrows, slightly anorexic but with high cheekbones. She looked as if she were in terrible pain, almost like she were dying. Naturally I bought a Blueberry Bagel from her. She smiled, which in turn made me smile, but the procedure of this slight Social Interaction had naturally come to an End. Just like a good foreign film that finishes too soon, I was stood there watching the Credits fly out of nowhere, their proverbial text scrolling in her Eyes, the Lights had come up, the curtains closed across her Fringe, & I was pressured to leave my Seat so the next patrons could visit the Show. As I reluctantly shuffled my way back onto King St, I started thinking about the Division, & just how hard it actually is Out There for a Single Guy these days. I’m somewhere between Carrie Bradshaw & Hank Moody, see. I’m definitely not a chain-smoking sex columnist nor am I a voracious, successful womanizer. I am simply a young, straight single male in their mid 20’s, so what have I to complain about? Well, lets start with the Barrier…

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