mame: ...and you have to be working really hard to be a bad kisser with me, because i'm so good at it.
me: what do you mean he was a bad kisser?
mame: he was acting all into it--
me: too much face.
mame:--exactly, but he wasn't all into it.
me: oh. OH.
beyond weird. and too much face? i mean come ON. sicksicksick. i had to speak the following sentence to mamie a few months back: "He was a slurpy kisser." sorry, gross, but are you kidding me. right then, i could have run to greenville, picked up mamie, and kept running with her to a prettier land where there are no men kissing like horses.
recently, cnn published the following: Bad kissers have little chance of getting to second base. In a study published recently in the scientific journal "Evolutionary Psychology," 59 percent of men and 66 percent of women said they've been in the position of being attracted to someone -- until they kissed the person. **please note that men are more likely to just keep right on going
and also, it's not supposed to be an assault, the kissing. fergodsakes, CALM DOWN. there's a level of intensity that's just weird. i actually made a face during one of these kisses (w/ someone i immediately stopped knowing). a get-me-the-hell-outta-here face. because in that moment, i was so wildly uncomfortable, i'd rather have been in some sort of mandatory five hour business meeting at 8am on a sunday.
you can bet your ass brian williams doesn't kiss like that. fucking hottie.
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16 comments:
Jesus Christ. Men can't have relationships. We can't dress. We can't have conversations. We can't comment. We comment too soon. We like sports. We enjoy shooting weapons. We have no conception of intimacy. When we cry its bad. When we don't cry its bad. We tend to punch the wall during arguments. And we think using knifes to open packages is a good idea. AND! We can't kiss. I learn so much from you two...
And I used "Comment" when I wanted to use "Commit". Great. Just fucking great.
oh, please. i think we're all in all pretty generous...
you should hear our phone conversations.
men. they think everything's about them. :)
also, the implication (from this post, hanNAH) is that we're some sort of kissing bandits. we're not. sadly, we're not.
ALSO, i find the use of the f-word not helping our case any. but, i mean, i love her even if she is a harlot. :)
i am NOT a harlot. i just blushed under my ethnicity. but these are isolated incidents. and i'm usually a fair girl, and classy enough not to kiss and tell normally, but it's just a shame this happens ever.
mame, don't you act like you didn't want and ask for all of this. except the f-word, i'll grant you. why so weird abt that lately.
In hindsight, I think you two do give men the benefit of the doubt. A lot of men. A lot of benefits. A lot of doubts. Jesus, I'm a monster. I'm sorry. I can't help it. So boring up here...
please...if we gave you the time, you wouldn't have to read this trivial blog.
slack arnolds.
I'm a little confused why you are kissing 50-year-olds in the first place... Could that possibly be the actual cause of the "get me the hell outta here" face?
Of course what would I know about kissing or 50-year-olds.
Oh wait....
dais, ok, so loose interpretation of middle-aged, used mainly to shame and frighten them. you're bad at this AND you're OLD.
by fifty we really mean thirty-somethings. at least for me. can't speak for mamester.
also. jarv, seriously?
kissing bandits? hahaha
hannah abrams. i knew you were taking notes.
interesting. given that i know no man whose name starts with a k. and i never did the college exploration thing with women.
but no worries, pls don't identify yourself w/c would just be awkward all around.
Hannah, While I am ALL for public shame and humiliation, could we please refrain from calling people in their mid-30s MIDDLE AGED? I'm seriously picking up and the phone and making a botox appointment as we speak. And I blame you. xoxo.
Nothing worst than hearing the smacking mouths of two people slobbering all over each other. Gross.
dais, ok, we'll bump it back up to 50. i'd rather live to be 100 obvi, despite my gloomy predictions otherwise. and the day you, my pretty, go in for botox is the day i give up entirely and live solely on bread, pate, and bacon.
eric, agreed.
Look, ladies, I can diminish all of your kissing problems with one small 5 word phrase: "He spit in my mouth." DONE.
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