Tag Archives: adam

Say Goodbye To Cunnilingus

7 Aug

disappointed-woman-stuck-in-a-relationshipIt seems like there’s been an awful lot of talk about cunnilingus in the news lately, which is interesting in and of itself because the licking of female genitalia used to be on the short list of things you could not possibly read about in the news. Whatever gets tongues wagging, I suppose.

First there was actor Michael Douglas making headlines by revealing his throat cancer was caused by contracting HPV from oral sex. Then he made headlines again by clarifying it was not from his lovely, disease-free wife Catherine Zeta-Jones, whom we can assume was positively thrilled to be the focus of a national discussion on whether or not she has a tumor-flavored vajayjay.

And this month researchers at Oakland University in Michigan reveal that cunnilingus may be an evolutionary adaptation that helps men prevent infidelity in their female partners. Between cunnilingus studies and vaginal ultrasound debates and Anthony Weiner, I wonder how many grandmas have blushed to death this summer simply from browsing AOL News.

The study out of Michigan was eye-opening, if only for its obviousness. Sure, going down on your lady prevents infidelity…your head is right there cock-blocking the entryway. Other guys would have to go in through your ear! But even as a big defender of evolutionary psychology, this study didn’t pass the proverbial taste test. The researchers based their conclusions on the fact that men are more likely to go down on their partners if they think their mates might be at risk of cheating. How did they determine risk of cheating? They asked the men a series of questions about how attractive their partners were. Leave it to science geeks to assume that the only predictor of infidelity is how hot a girl is. And heaven forbid you should ask some actual women about why men go down on them.

As silly as the study was, it confirmed one simple point: Men are more likely to perform oral sex on women they find attractive. But here’s where this spells trouble for ladies.

We men enjoy performing oral sex for a few reasons. Our lips are one of the most sensitive parts of our body, so kissing stuff generally feels pleasurable. And like most mammals, humans emit pheromones from their nether regions. While we’re down there, we can literally smell a woman’s attractiveness. And of course there’s just the emotional titillation of finally getting a peek at a lady’s most top-secret zone. It’s like the Area 51 of body parts, and we’re like horny Fox Mulders.

But at the end of the day, cunnilingus is just another service that men offer women to ingratiate themselves, like buying dinner or helping move furniture or programming the DVR. Oral sex is a fun chore, perhaps, but still a chore…not something either gender is rushing out to do for a living if they can help it. It’s a love language we use to keep our partners happy, and we enjoy it because it keeps them happy. Yet with every passing year, women are going to find it harder and harder to snag attractive men who will perform these services for them. The culprit, interestingly, is the economy.

“The Decline of the American Male” has been written about ad nauseum, and I’m sure you’ve heard the broad strokes: The Great Recession hit men much harder than women, and left the male population of this country a lazy, unemployed mob of slackers and stoners. 20% of young men don’t work at all. Women outnumber men on college campuses, and a good looking guy with a decent job is getting harder and harder to come by. In societies where good men are hard to find (we see this often in post-war periods, where many have died) the remaining males get pickier, they have higher numbers of sexual partners, they wait longer to commit in relationships, and generally don’t have to beg quite so hard to get laid.

And therein lies the problem, ladies: Begging men have been your main source of cunnilingus. If going down on a woman is a seduction tool, like buying flowers or writing poetry, then you’re going to see it become as infrequent a gesture as, well, buying flowers and writing poetry. I have spoken with a variety of female friends in their late 20’s and 30’s about this subject, and they have anecdotally confirmed: Men in this age group–at least the desirable ones–are going down less and less often, for shorter and shorter periods of time. I’m not saying it will disappear entirely, but it’s becoming more of a quaint formality; a rushed inspection of the cork before you drink the actual wine.

On the bright side, there’s still plenty of oral sex to be had…if you don’t mind college guys and men of a certain age. Apparently, those are the two male demographics most likely to plead for the opportunity to impress you with their quick tongues. The young guys, I assume, because they’re poor and it’s one of the few currencies they can realistically offer. The old guys, because they’re past their prime, and need to use every trick in the book. A lot of guys in their 60’s have back problems too, so lying in bed with their mouths agape is about as adventurous as they can get.

So get it while you can, women. Good head is an endangered species. And Michael Douglas telling everyone that vaginas spread throat cancer isn’t helping the cause.

Ladies, do you agree? Are guys in their 20’s and 30’s keeping their mouths shut? Do older men and young guys beg for the opportunity? Sound off in the comment section!

How To Marry Someone Hotter Than You

24 Feb

After my last post, “You’re not all 8’s,” I began to feel a little bad about knocking everyone down a peg (including myself). While it’s true that in general, if I’m a “7,” I am destined to marry another “7,” there are always exceptions. Some people marry down a notch or two. Which of course means that an equal amount of people are marrying up. Why does this happen? And more importantly…how can I get in on the action?

When I was in college, I took an evolutionary psychology class from a professor that had come up with a fascinating interactive lesson. Everyone in the class of about 30 students, half male, half female, was assigned an index card with a number, 1 through 10. There were equal amounts of each number for both genders…one girl and guy were 10’s, a couple each were 9’s, and so on. But we couldn’t see our own number…you had to hold it against your forehead, so that everyone could see it except you.

The professor then stated that we had five minutes to try and pair up with someone of the opposite sex. The goal was to find a mate with the highest number possible.

Obviously, I immediately set about looking for a 10, who I found quickly, and who was already entertaining a small group of suitors. I stuck my head in. “How bout me? Interested?” I asked. She looked at my number, made the “icky face,” and shook her head.

I knew my number was low. But how low? I found an 8, who passed on me quickly. Then a 7. No takers. A female 3 walked up to me: “Hi!!! Wanna be my mate?” This time, it was I who made the icky face. I shooed her off.

As the deadline drew near, I finally just realized I needed to take whatever I could get. I turned and found myself face-to-face with a 5. “Hey!” she said with a smile. “Hey!” I said back. We were in love.

When time ran out, everyone looked at their own number. Mine was a five, just like the partner I ended up with. In fact, almost everyone had matched up either exactly or one number off. It was an invaluable lesson on the free market of human mating…competition and selection are forces that move quickly and accurately.

Except in one case. Remember that 10 who blew me off? Turns out she blew everybody off. She figured out real quick that people were clamoring for her attention, so she must have a high number, and waited for another 10. Problem was the male 10 hooked up pretty quick with a female 9. You know what partner the female 10 ended up with? A 2!

To further highlight the mismatch, the female 10 was, in reality, a tall, gorgeous blond girl who every guy in the class drooled over, and the 2 she ended up with was the shyest, nerdiest Korean kid you ever saw. I swear, when they both stood up in front of the class, the guy was beaming from ear to ear. I could see it had been the greatest moment of his life. How did it happen?

One word: Timing. No matter how hot a person is, we are all slaves to Mother Nature’s deadlines.

If we were all immortal, our romances would probably be a series of monogamous relationships, whereby we found the best available mate we could at the moment, then jumped ship as soon as we could find a better one. This would continue, endlessly, until all 7 billion people on earth had dated each other, and based on their experiences were able to choose which human was the absolute best they could find, who also wanted them.

But we don’t live forever. More importantly, we don’t reproduce forever. A women’s reproductive era starts around age 13 and ends in her mid forties. So if a woman, even a perfect 10, wants to wait for “Mr. Right,” she does so at an increasingly high risk the longer she waits.

Men are a little different. They gain the ability to reproduce around 13 as well, but they can keep firing off healthy sperm well into their fifties and sixties. The quality of the seed goes down from there, but if the guy is hot enough, there will still be takers: Rod Stewart just fathered his eighth child at age 66. (Could you say no to that handsome old devil’s baby batter? I couldn’t!)

So what does this all mean? As men and women approach their respective fertility deadlines, they get a lot more relaxed about standards, just like the people in my college classroom. Ask the hottest girl in high school to marry you, and you won’t have much luck. If she’s still single at the ten year reunion…bro, try again! It’s not nearly the long shot it was a decade earlier.

And ladies, this goes double for you. A man can keep firing off live rounds till his pubes turn gray, but that doesn’t mean he wants to. I often hear guys say things like: “I want to be a young enough Dad to play basketball with my kids when they’re in high school.” This is their evolutionary programming kicking in, reminding them that men, like women, need to get on with the baby-making before they die, and leave enough time after to actually raise the kids and ensure they survive to reproductive age themselves. With this in mind, I now give you women the single most important piece of dating advice you will ever receive:

DATE GUYS WHO ARE 30. There is nothing more crucial to a woman’s ability to marry her boyfriend than the age of the boyfriend himself. And the ideal age is 30. A mixture of things–his own biological clock, his elevated station in life and his peaking ability to get a hot mate, and maybe just boredom at having banged so many women already in his 20’s–conspire to make a man ready to settle down as he enters his fourth decade on earth. It’s literally like a switch gets turned on, and his romantic pursuits do a complete 180. It’s so obvious, in fact, that I find myself confused as to why women even bother dating guys who are 28 or younger. It’s a suckers bet. Unless you’ve got the patience, and ability, to hang on to him until he reaches 30. Many a frustrated woman has dumped a 29 year old man after five years without a proposal, only to be shocked and horrified to find out he became engaged to another women the very next year. How can this happen? Timing!

And so it follows that an understanding of timing can not only help you secure a mate, but possibly a hotter one than you would normally aspire to. For men, this means getting to hot women early. Remember, they’ve been dreaming of finding a husband since grade school. Their biological clock goes “tick, tick” starting at age 13, but that ticking becomes a firehouse siren by 23. Get to a girl early and lock her down. Take Brian Austin Green for example: I’m not saying the ex-Beverly Hills 90210 star isn’t attractive, but the guy shot the moon when he landed Transformers bombshell Megan Fox. He did it by getting to her young…they started dating when she was 18 and he was 31, long before she realized how high the number on her forehead was, and how low Mr. Green’s would become. Just like the show that made him famous, his celebrity started with a 9 but will end with a 0. Yet it doesn’t matter…thanks to his excellent timing, he will die happy.

Ladies, do just the opposite. Patience is key. I guess you can think of romance as a big, epic game of musical chairs. The men are just walking around in circles like idiots in their 20’s, not realizing how pointless the endeavor is until the music stops. And when it does stop, whatever chair they’re next to becomes the greatest chair in the world. In other words: be next to a hot guy when the music stops. There’s a good chance he’ll sit on you.

You may also enjoy: Why Women Date Assholes

Dear single people of Los Angeles: You’re not all 8’s

22 Feb

Expectations ruin everything. If I tell you Iron Man 3 is the best film ever made, and you go see it, you’ll likely be disappointed and tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about. Which is a shame, because Iron man 3 is actually a pretty good movie. You might have liked it a lot more if I hadn’t messed with your expectations.

I’ve come to believe that dating is the same. In the greater Los Angeles area, there’s over 17 million people. One fifth are the prime dating age, 21-34. Of those, about half are single at any given time. That’s almost 2 million single people. Half are men, half women, so let’s say a million each, give or take.

The bell curve of attractiveness.

If I categorize them based on hotness, on a scale of 1 to 10, there’s 100,000 men and women on average for each level…1’s, 2’s, 3’s…and so on. But in reality, it’s probably more like a bell curve…lots of people in the middle, few on the high and low extremes. Still, this should be good news, because by definition most people are average, and thus there should be hundreds of thousands of normal people out there who are our physical equals and eager to date, mate, and marry.

And yet, it doesn’t feel like there’s hundreds of thousands of decent partners out there for us. Sometimes it feels like there aren’t any. How is this possible?

Faulty expectations. You want people who don’t want you. Worse, you feel you deserve people who don’t want you. Your expectations are too high. When your expectations aren’t met, you become distressed, lonely, and frustrated. Why can’t I find just one person in this whole city that I like, who also likes me back?

My solution: Get your heads out of your asses, Los Angeles! Or, to put it more specifically…YOU’RE NOT ALL “8”s.

I understand your thought process. You think you’re being quite reasonable and honest with yourself. You’re happy to acknowledge you’re not a perfect 10. After all, you bite your nails sometimes. Nobody’s flawless! In fact, even a nine seems a bit high, in a city where Reese Witherspoon is “alright looking.” So you’re happy to call yourself an 8. That can’t be too high, right? After all, 80% is the equivalent of a B- in high school. You know you’re not a B-. You’re more like a B+. So let’s call it 8.8.

I repeat, delusional Angelenos: YOU ARE NOT A FUCKING “8”.

10’s.

Let’s start from the top: Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are 10’s. No argument there, I assume?

9’s.

Now, I’m going to be generous and say that average looking TV stars (let’s say, The Office’s Jenna Fischer and John Krasinski) are 9’s, although to be honest I feel a little weird putting them that close to Hollywood royalty like George Clooney, Tom Cruise, or Katherine Heigl…all 10’s. But let’s say that John and Jenna are way up there as 9’s for now, and no lower…for your sake. And let’s go ahead and add in all the professional athletes, Playboy centerfolds, multi-millionaires, etc.

8’s.

Then who does that leave as 8’s? Wait…you think it’s you? HAHAHAHAHAHA. I just laughed so hard I trickled pee into my Spider-Man undies. You, an 8? Pfsht. 8’s are the non-famous, non-rich, but still mega-hot regular people of LA. Truly gorgeous men and women. Fashion models. Future rock stars. CEOs of record labels. People who used to be on The Hills. Stars of The Bachelorette. Daniel Tosh.

7: Good looking guy in an Audi. (Pretend this is not Jason Statham).

Now we’re at the 7’s. I guess some of you are here. Really good-looking people. People who have no trouble hooking up with the hottest guy/girl at the bar (well, a West LA bar). People with awesome  jobs. Nice cars…Audi A5 or better, please. Very funny, smart, or sexually gifted, and probably all three.

This is most of us: Classic 6’s who think they’re 8’s. Get off the bar, drunks!

Now the 6’s are where a lot of you folk should be classifying yourselves. Don’t worry, nothing wrong with being a six. It’s definitely above average. Nice looking, smart, funny. Good job.  You were popular in your sorority or fraternity (but not that popular). Able to get laid, with some regularity. But not with Victoria’s Secret models.

Decent looking girls. AKA 5’s.

5’s: Average looking. Maybe you have nice boobs or a girthy penis. You sometimes can hook up with a 7…if they’re completely wasted. You dream of being on a reality TV show, but your level of celebrity hits its peak when you were interviewed about a local shooting on the ten o’clock news.

4’s.

4’s: You’re overweight, mediocre looking, or sort of a douchebag. You are not smart, and the only people who think you are funny are your friends, who are also 4’s, and also not funny.

3’s: You were made fun of by other kids when you were young because of the way you looked. In truth, I can’t blame them. You think of yourself as a 5. You are wrong.

2’s.

2’s: Bad news, 2’s: You are devoid of personality, which is odd, because people as ugly as you are supposed to develop a sense of humor or smarts to compensate. But for some reason you didn’t. Good news: There are still tens of thousands of people in LA left for you to reject with confidence (see below).

Sorry Verne. Mini Me = 1

1’s: Hey 1’s! How ya doin’? Doin’ good? It’s fun to talk to a normal person, huh! So, just a quick update: you are virtually un-dateable to 95% of the world. But there’s always other 1’s, including circus freaks and radioactive mutants, who are equally hard up. If you guys can figure out the mechanics of sexual intercourse, I say, go to town! Everybody deserves somebody. And the funny thing is, at the end of the day, there’s as many people out there in your target range as there is for a perfect 10, when you think about it.

So as you can see, we’re all woefully misguided about where we rank in this town, and that in turn destroys our expectations about who we deserve. On average, you’re bumping yourself up 20% too much. I know why you do it…you’ve got the “intangibles” that go beyond physical appearance, money, or fame. You’re “hilarious.” You’ve got a “special charm.” You’re “great at volleyball.” You’re working on an “amazing screenplay.” Here, let me help you factor those intangibles into the equation. Think of all your qualities other than looks and income, rank them on a scale from 1 to 10, write those numbers on a piece of paper, and then shove that paper up your delusional ass. You’re a 6. Just deal with it. The sooner you come to reality, the better off you’ll be. You’ll never be happy looking for an 8 when you don’t realize they want nothing to do with you. Especially if they’re delusional too and think they’re a 10! What 10 is going to marry a 6?!!! See how many problems this is causing? In economic terms, we are experiencing rampant price inflation in the meat market. And it affects the ugly and beautiful alike. No wonder George Clooney won’t settle down. He’s probably looking for a 12!

But in the end, it is not our own minds, but rather the times we live in that are to blame. Your ancestors of 40,000 years ago lived in small tribes, 150 people at most, including children. Now out of that, how many single people? Let’s say 80. 40 males and 40 females. Everybody knew everybody else. If a “6” caveman was aiming for a “9” cavewoman, she just rejected him, and he moved on down the line. By the time he got down to other 6’s, there was probably only three or four to choose from, and what with competition from other males, he was probably happy with whatever he got. The whole process probably took a week or less. It reminds me of my childhood days in front of the TV…before we had cable, we basically only got 10 channels. If “Three’s Company” was on one of them, I was happy. These days, with five hundred channels to choose from, I’m never happy. I just keep on clicking and clicking and clicking, hoping “Casino” is on, which it never is. Meanwhile, on one of those five hundred channels, a perfectly good episode of Three’s Company is going unwatched.

Anyway, I hope this clears everything up. Now quit walking around Hollywood like you’re better than 80% of the people in the bar. You’re not. You’re better than 60%, at most, and that’s if there’s circus freaks and radioactive mutants having a beer. But don’t look at your demotion as bad news. It actually might be the best thing that ever happened to you. Would you rather continue to be a lonely 8, or a happy 6 in a loving relationship?

And in the interest of full disclosure: I’m a decent looking, reasonably successful screenwriter who drives a 4runner. On a good day, I’m an LA 6.5. (But then again, I am funny, and I do have a blog…so let’s just say 8…)

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Why Smart Guys Date Dumb Girls

17 Feb

Dear Blunt Monkey,

I have a friend who is super smart, classy, and sophisticated. She was recently dating a guy who just stopped calling her. I’ve seen on his Facebook page the girl he’s seeing now…she’s total white trash. I just don’t get it! – Kate, Los Angeles

Short answer: Smart guys will generally date the most physically attractive girl available to them. Other attributes are secondary. By the way, girls do basically the same thing. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Long Answer: I’ve had three separate girl friends this week tell me a different version of this same story. They have a friend who, out of nowhere, was dumped by her boyfriend. The consensus seems to be that all three girls were dumped because they are too intelligent; men simply can’t handle a woman who is smarter than them, and they definitely can’t handle a woman who makes more money than them.

I suppose this is a comforting reality to live in post-dumping; we all need to tell ourselves little lies to cope in sad times. So don’t keep reading if you are emotionally fragile. Go ahead, dry your tears. I’ll wait.

Ready? Okay. First, nobody gets “dumped out of nowhere.” If a guy breaks up with you after dating for a year, he probably started working up the courage to do it around the nine month mark. You’ve probably been bugging the shit out of him since the six month mark. There were probably some fights he intentionally sprinkled in towards the end to prepare you. He probably started getting really distant and not talking much. He probably got sick of having sex with you. You probably ignored all of it.

And when you DID finally get dumped, you had been living in denial that the relationship ended months ago, so you were forced to contrive a reason, any reason, that something this horrible could happen. Encouraged by friends hoping to comfort you with a rationale that the tragedy was not your fault, but his, you concoct a comforting myth: Men can’t date women that are smarter than them.

First, this presumes that you actually are smarter than him, which you may be, but you may also not be. I don’t know. But the failure here isn’t in assuming that smarts were a factor in the breakup. The failure is in thinking that a disdain of superior intellect is a one way street, men to women. That’s just not the case at all.

While it’s true that a man may prefer to be smarter or make more money than his significant other, it works the other way as well. I know a lot of smart, funny, outgoing girls who never date men of their intellectual caliber. Oh, women hide this fact. “I like the strong, silent type,” or “he’s really chill,” or “my boyfriend is really down to earth”…it’s all quaint slang for “My boyfriend is hot and I don’t let him talk a lot.” In fact, as of 2009, 33.5% of wives made more money than their husbands, and the percentage of women making more than their boyfriends is slightly higher. Whether or not this makes the marriage better or worse is irrelevant to me. The point is, these are relationships where both parties entered understanding one fact: At best, I know my wife likes to wear the pants, and at worst, I might have to wear the skirt.

Personally, I think it’s great. What a different world we’d live in if women had enjoyed equal career opportunities with men for the past few thousand years. Think of the progress we’ve sacrificed by asking women to choose between housewife, seamstress, or prostitute. And God knows why it’s taking women so long to level the playing field. News flash, ladies: the physical superiority that made men hunters and women gatherers is now worthless. Success in the workplace has nothing to do with physical strength. I know society forces this gender inequality on us, but for Christ’s sake, women make up over half the population of said society. Someone should start some sort of “woman’s movement.” I’m gonna look into that.

What I think is funny is that we mistakingly classify this “I can’t date someone smarter than me” thing in gender terms. The truth is that smart, opinionated people of both genders seem averse to dating intellectual equals. I believe there’s a reason for it. It has been said for centuries that “opposites attract,” and we all know many couples that prove the point. But people of opposite dispositions pairing up is not an accident. In evolutionary terms, this is an effective way to diversify your gene pool. Diversifying the gene pool is important; if we inbreed, we open ourselves up to radically higher rates of bad genetic mutations and poorer resistance to disease. Conversely, if you can bang someone with very little genetic similarity to you, you invite a whole ocean of new genetic benefits to confer on your offspring. This is why it’s fun to get laid in foreign countries with strangers.

So basically, we seek those different from us because it brings something new to the genetic table. Intelligence in partners is the same. If I’m smart, I already bring smarts to the table. God knows I don’t need another set of opinions clogging up my already overloaded brain. No, what I need is some ‘sexy’ in my gene pool. And as it turns out, sexy needs some smarts. Now our kids will be both sexy AND smart. In relationships, we all tend to be the ‘yin’ to someone else’s ‘yang.’ Two yins don’t win. Two yangs don’t bang.

So does that mean that smart people never marry other smart people? Of course not! Smart, ugly people marry other smart, ugly people all the time, because neither can get a sexy partner. But sexy usually wins even in this case; a smart female nerd, given the choice between an ugly, really smart guy or a sorta smart, sorta attractive guy will still opt for the sorta smart guy more often than not. Additionally, there are those lucky people out there who are both smart AND sexy, and if you find one of them, you don’t have to choose which genetic benefit you want because you’re getting both. No guy is going to dump a girl who is incredibly sexy just because she’s also smart. Natalie Portman went to Harvard. You know any guys who wouldn’t date her? I didn’t think so. And if your friend says “What about me? I’m smart AND sexy,” I guess I’d politely suggest she might be the one a little more than the other. Like most of us, she’s probably somewhere in between gorgeous and hideous. When do you know when you’ve found the appropriate physical and intellectual match? When he doesn’t dump you and you don’t dump him.

And while this might come as troubling news, the brainiacs of the world can at least take solace in knowing they are not alone. Trust me. If having a big brain was the aphrodisiac women claim it was, I’d spend less time writing this stupid nerd blog and more time boning Charlize Theron. The simple truth is we’re all suckers for a pretty face. It’s only when we get to choose between a few equally pretty faces that we have the luxury of factoring intelligence, sense of humor, and access to Lakers tickets into the equation. The primary purpose of a car is that it has an engine. Once we know it can take us where we want to go, we can worry about vanity plates and shiny rims.

So tell your friend not to worry. We all reject, and we all get rejected. She got dumped by one guy, just like she probably rejects 90% of guys who approach her in a bar or message her on eHarmony. In fact, women are ten times worse than men about discriminating based on looks. “Ew! That guy is so white trash! 5’6″? Yuck! $25,000 a year? Keep walking, loser!” Meanwhile, men are more than happy to date short, jobless, trashy women.

If they’re hot.

Next post: How attractive are you…really?

Why Young Men Love Cougars (and vice versa)

15 Feb

Dear Blunt Monkey,

I’m 20 years old and I’m dating a girl who’s 33. At first it was really cool…she loves to do things for me, she’s really chill, and she never cared if we were “officially” boyfriend/girlfriend. But now she wants to make our relationship more official and my friends think I should find someone my own age. Is this all normal? What should I do? – Dave, Los Angeles

Since the beginning of time—or at least since the theatrical release of Harold and Maude—young men have all too often found themselves in the razor sharp clutches of older women, whom pop culture affectionately refers to as “cougars.” Now technically, Dave is dating a ‘puma,’ because she is under 40. But let’s not split cat hairs. Aside from a few extra wrinkles and maybe a divorce, they’re basically the same thing…cougars are defined less by their own age and more by the age of their younger male cohorts. So I’m just going to refer to all single women dating guys 7+ years younger as cougars from here on out.

In the past decade, cougar culture has become rather en vogue. Ashton Kutcher hasn’t contributed much to the world in the way of quality acting, but he did contribute something important to the world of dating: He and his she-cat Demi Moore made cougar relations cool again. But is it for everyone? And why does it happen?

First, let’s explore briefly why men and women get together at all. Historically, the main reason is to reproduce. But that can be accomplished in a matter of hours, or if you’re me, minutes.

Why we continue to hang out beyond that brief act of reproduction is the nature of every relationship. Our female ancestors of 100,000 years ago were prone to getting knocked up, what with the lack of birth control pills and condoms. I mean, they hadn’t even invented ‘pulling out’ yet. Thus women needed the help of men in ancient times to assist them with the burdens of the pregnancy that followed intercourse—they needed help to get food; to protect them from animal predators as well as other men; and to tell them “No, I don’t think you look fat in that maternity bear skin.” Men, conversely, needed to help women do all these things to ensure their offspring survived birth and beyond. It’s a win-win situation that works all through nature.

But as with all creatures, these relationships aren’t random. The highest quality women chose the highest quality men. That leaves mediocre looking chicks to take their pick of mediocre guys, and ugly chicks to rummage through the scraps for whatever they can find. (Or “last call,” as we barflies refer to it).

Which brings me to the cougar/cub dynamic. Times have changed; modern women don’t always need or want guys to take care of them, and guys often want nothing to do with baby-making. But some things never change, and the things we found attractive as cave men and women still resonate in our hearts today. The best chicks still get with the best guys. For women, that’s the most beautiful girl who is of child bearing age, but young enough to ensure she’s still got a lot of childbearing years ahead of her. In other words, a really hot 18-year old. For the guy, it should be a male at his peak ability to provide and protect, whether he’s hunting mammoths or managing hedge funds. In either case, we’re basically talking about a rich 35-year old. Yes, yes, of course, there are lots of exceptions. That’s not to say that a woman can’t be hot past age 18, or that a man can’t be attractive if he’s not rich, or that other things like sense of humor, intelligence, and good abs don’t come into play. But generally, this is how it works. In fact, when women say “Girls mature faster than boys,” what they really mean is “You ain’t getting this poon till you’re older and rich!” Sorry everyone: nature’s rules, not mine.

Well, as you might expect, the older guys pilfering the younger ranks of the hottest women leaves something of a quandary for the young men of the world. Girls their own age are dating older men; and they can’t date younger girls without breaking the law. So by process of elimination they sometimes match up with older women, women who missed their shot to grab a husband in their 20s, or who did, and then got divorced, and now find themselves thrust back into the jungle. Enter the Cougar.

She’s hot. Years of being single have forced her to stay on her toes when it comes to looking good. In addition, the lack of a male provider has required her to stay actively employed well into her 30s, so she’s probably attained a level of career success that has afforded her above average confidence, experience, and money. And you can understand how this attractive older woman, with class and smarts and money, simply can’t understand why she has been unable to land a good man (and there are so many reasons! But that’s another subject).

So, in a fit of desperation, she decides to give up and just have fun. They all say that. Older men and younger girls, eh? Well now it’s time for some revenge. As the song Conquest says: “The hunted became the huntress; the hunter became the prey.” Convinced that “love is not for her” and that “if men can do it, why can’t women?” she embarks on an era of romantic and sexual liberation.

She sees her prey across the bar…young, handsome, and naïve. She glares at him with those lustful eyes that are creepy in a man but intoxicating in a woman. She chats him up. Twenty-one year old guys haven’t been in that many bars in their life; thirty-five year old women have been in far too many. The advantage is hers. She pulls him away from his young friends, who offer him shocked hi-fives as he’s whisked into her Lexus SUV.

At first, everything is simple. The sex is fun, the terms are loose, and nobody minds a drunken text message a week later to get together and do it again. This can go on for weeks, months even. The girl gets all that uninhibited lovemaking she passed on in her twenties with a cute young hunk…just as she reaches her sexual peak, as it turns out. And the guy gets to sew some wild oats, with a partner happy to nurture him in a variety of ways, not only sexually. Remember, cougars have a lot of pent up energy that was meant to be devoted to husbands and children. Thus the cougar is happy to spend money, cook meals, buy alcohol…in her young lover, she has found a way to fill the holes (ahem) created by not having a family of her own.

But good things are not always meant to last. The most common lie a man will tell a woman is that he wants a relationship. The most common lie told by a woman is that she doesn’t. And that’s what’s going on here. Eventually, inevitably, Ms. Cougar starts to develop feelings for her young companion. Was she wrong? Maybe everyone does find love! Oh sure, people will talk about his age…but who cares! I can make this work! It’s not too late!

Then begins the chaffing on our young cub’s part. The casual sex and fancy home-cooked dinners were nice…at her place. Can’t exactly bring this girl home to mom. She basically is a mom. Plus those evolutionary instincts kick in for both parties…does this chick even have enough eggs left to fulfill my reproductive needs? Men want to bang everything that moves, populating the countryside with their offspring. Cougars want to adopt a baby girl from China. And is this guy going to be able to provide you with everything you need as a woman? You didn’t wait thirty-five years for marriage to hook up with a college drop-out who wants to smoke weed and play Call of Duty all day.

In the end, Cougar/Cub relationships are like bowling leagues: a fun idea at first, then sorta boring, and if you make a long-term commitment to it, just plain embarrassing. Both sexes outgrow the phase: young men come into their own by 30 or so, feel like settling down, and pair back up with more youthful partners. Older women discover it’s not too late to play by nature’s rules…they realize that spending the rest of their lives single isn’t going to be fun, and that by adjusting their expectations they can still find love. In other words, in their 20s, 30s, and 40s, women go from wanting Prince Charming to Freddie Prinze Jr. and finally just Freddie the Accountant Next Door.

So Dave, I give you and your older lover each the same piece of advice: If it’s fun, keep doing it, until it isn’t. Nature will sort out the rest. In the end, everybody winds up with somebody. Except Jennifer Aniston.

Have a question? Email it to askbluntmonkey@gmail.com

I Want To Go To Egypt

4 Feb

Cairo, Egypt. A nation’s youth—driven to action by an oppressive and corrupt regime, a 40% unemployment rate, and a generally shitty state of affairs—protests in Tahrir Square, day in and day out. The results are startling. Hundreds dead, scores more beaten and injured, and a host of others arrested by a brutal police force bent on crushing their rebellion, whatever the cost. One of the region’s most stable nations has been plunged into a state of abject violence and chaos.

I want to go to Egypt.

There’s something about these Egyptian revolutionaries that has captivated many Americans, and you can count me among them. I don’t think it’s because the average Joe grasps the regional and global ramifications of a power shift in the Middle East. Most Americans probably couldn’t find Egypt on a map, and fewer still know or care about who Hosni Mubarak is. After King Tut, it’s all pretty much a blur. Unless Hosni lives in a pyramid and has a black and gold candy cane coming out of his chin, he just looks like an 80-year old Mexican to us.

Yet despite our indifference to this man, for some reason, we like seeing these people revolt against him. Maybe it’s just our visceral love of watching something exciting happen. That twisted joy we get from watching a train wreck in progress. We are a nation of rubber-neckers, morbidly curious about things gone wrong, from the accident we pass on the freeway to the latest Charlie Sheen coke binge. It could be that we just like watching things go bad for others because it makes our own lives that much more enviable by comparison.

But I think it’s something more. I think our hearts and minds are awakened by the protests in Egypt the same way they are when we watch Rocky…whatever else we are, we’re a country that loves an underdog. We are, after all, the beneficiaries of a legacy of rebellion. Our founding fathers had to topple a monarch to secure America’s existence, and we never quite lost that affinity for crushing bastards, punching the powers that be in the mouth for just one chance to live outside the grip of tyranny. Forget that America has gone from underdog to empire in the last two hundred years. That’s beside the point. We have retained a thirst, passed down not just from our forefathers, but from our primitive ancestors, an instinctual evolutionary desire for freedom.

Out there on the plains of Africa 100,000 years ago, our hunter-gatherer predecessors were concerned not with government, taxes, or legislation, but rather with how to feed themselves and their children and hopefully avoid being a lion’s dinner. Or as I call them, “the good ‘ol days.” And even in those rough-and-tumble days of yore, there were men who sought not just survival, but dominance. That competitive fire that fueled Darwinian natural selection made them successful, perhaps to a fault. Some men weren’t content with a lot of food or a hot woman. They wanted to eat all the food and bang all the women. And these men and their buddies weren’t afraid to club a few of their fellow tribesman to death to achieve their goals. They were the Hosni Mubaraks of the savanna.

And in response to this hyper-competitive proto human, nature discovered a response. A gene formed that curbed his dominance, halting his super-stimulated competitive streak for supremacy before it could destroy the entire clan. Young men and women developed a new emotion, a striving desire for autonomy…that need to be free that courses though all our veins, whether we’ve tasted freedom or not. Through the need for autonomy came rebellion, and revolution. The clan banded together. The bullies were strong, but those standing against them were many. They’d been pushed too far. A battle was waged. And when the dust had settled and the spears and clubs were bloodied, the clan had toppled their oppressors and balance was restored.

It shouldn’t take as long as it does to embrace these urges for liberation inside us, but when we do feel them, we must act on them. I sometimes wonder why we Americans, who stood up to King George III, to  communism, to Hitler—are so content to let corruption of government and business erode our quality of life. From larcenous banks to ocean-destroying polluters, from crooked politicians to pedophile priests…it’s really just a few bad apples that are causing all the trouble. Why not stand up to them? Egyptians are doing it. So are the Tunisians and Yemenese. George W. Bush was right: the Middle East is ripe for democratic change. Just turns out they’re more likely to do it without American tanks rolling through their streets and flattening their mud huts. Go figure.

So here’s to you, Egyptians. My country may have suspended travel to your land, but my soul flies there anyway, waiting to bleed for your cause. In you, we freedom loving humans see ourselves…if not for who we actually are, then for who we want to be. The proud, principled masses, bearing the standard of autonomy passed down from a time before nations, before even language. You are the reincarnated spirits of every ancient man and woman who felt compelled to live free or die, a phrase coined by Americans, and then forgotten by them. For that reason, I look to you not with pity, but with envy.

Now go kick King Tut’s ass.