Men and Their Photo Requests

I realize that some of the experiences shared about online dating may be foreign to some of my readers because you’re either married or involved with someone or quite possibly, have never used this method of meeting people.  For those of us out here in the trenches fighting this uphill battle, you’ll be able to look at this textversation above and immediately see why I’m so annoyed:


Why are these men always asking for more photos?

I get requests like this all the time and not just from the ones encountered online, so for the life of me, I just don’t get why they keep asking.  Unless a woman’s profile only has blurry, dark or face shots only and he wants to make sure a woman isnt looking like the Kool-Aid man, what’s the deal with always asking for more more more?

My profile has a total of SIX photos – a well-lit bathroom mirror shot, another head shot, two full body shots from both the front and side angles, one of me sitting with a little leg exposed and one sitting at my desk.  None of them are poor in quality and it isn’t like I posted some group photo where I was unidentifiable.


Are they asking for risqué shots with boobs and ass hanging out, or do they simply want one to use while storing contacts? The latter is usually the fall back excuse when I call them on it,   but  why do you need “a few”? My guess is men are only looking to browse throughout the day while rubbing on some wood or show you off as a trophy to their buddies.

Come on fellas, it’s a turn off so you would be better off working the screenshots with your phone until we’ve at least met. Besides, there’s a good possibility that we may not make it to the point of storing each other as a contact. Just saying.

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones

Ignoring the Limpness

It’s late at night and the two of you either made plans for a happy ending or figured a hot and steamy make out session is what a 2am visit would eventually lead to.

An intense round of tongue wrestling ensues and next thing you know, any clothing you were wearing has been strewn throughout the room.

The kissing and touching gets pretty intense, nipples and other body parts are now out and ready for some action but there’s just one small problem – the man’s penis isn’t cooperating and not willing to participate in the fun.

This just happened to me last night and I’ll be damned if I start my new year off with yet another dysfunctional penis.  Remember my last experience with the two minute man who swore the type of alcohol he drank caused his premature happy ending?

What the hell is going on with these men and why are they putting themselves in situations knowing there’s a possibility they won’t be able to follow through on the foreplay?

Fortunately, these are experiences with men I’ve not dated regularly and thank goodness, am not in a relationship with because I hear far too many stories about these broken penises.

Friends who adore their boyfriends and love their husbands complain all of the time about how the sex is just unbearable because his morning wood is more like stale string cheese or his inability to get beyond 5 struggle pumps.

Too drunk, medications, too tired, nervousness or any other reasons that may exist, you (men) will be embarrassed and we (women) will be pissed, so I’m really curious about the best way to handle this.

Are we supposed to gently tap little Willy on the head and murmur “There, there… it’s okay” or try to ignore the elephant in the room.

What say you?

Until there’s a cure (for dating hangovers and penis problems)…

Carmen Jones

Throwback Dating

Photo Credit:
Photo Credit:

Nothing is constant but change and this concept most certainly applies to dating.

Over the last ten years or so, the rules of the game have changed drastically and this isn’t just because online dating is now one of the most popular ways to try finding that special someone but our society is now a lot more screwed up.   Simple interactions we used to take for granted such as talking on the telephone or simply saying hello to someone you’re interested in have gone away and the likelihood of sharing an intelligible conversation is slim to none. Some of the ridiculous experiences I’ve had with men from both online contact and the good old-fashioned face-to-face contact and dating are both pathetic and embarrassing but sadly some of the women are not beyond reproach other. I just wish we could rewind the clock to those throwback styles of dating.

Remember when…

A man would see a woman he was interested in, ask for a number to call her and within a day or maybe even less, a telephone call was made and the voices of two interested people went to.


During that initial telephone call, the two people are either having a brief discussion with a few awkward pauses or may be lucky enough to have one of those marathon calls when chores, homework and even food is being ignored and no one wants to be the first to hang up. It may be with this first call or maybe a couple more, but soon after an actual date is planned where typically it is the man who is asking the woman out for dinner, a movie or maybe even dancing.


The man just needs her address and he’s on his way to her house and wait for it – gets out of the car. He’s dressed nicely for the date leaving his baseball cap and flip flops for another day and walks up to knock on the door (calling her to come out was unacceptable and honking was criminal). He might have a little something for the woman since it is their first date and soon after she greets him, they’re headed back to the car and on their way.


As they’re driving to their destination with some “safe” music playing, conversation ensues and…

I think you’re getting the idea where I’m going with this fairytale of sorts. What’s funny and sad at the same time is that anyone younger than 30 or has been meeting the same types as myself and many others, has no recognition of what I’ve described above. Things nowadays are so ridiculously twisted when it comes to dating that THIS has become the norm:

If someone interested in you he or she will ask if you’re on Facebook, ask for your Instagram name, Twitter handle, or Snap Chat name and just maybe you’ll be asked for a phone number text you sometime. After several days or maybe even a week, contact is made using one of the sources above which mostly likely is a text message with something like “HYD”, “WYD” or “Hey” or my personal favorite “Hi Sexy”. It is quite possible that you will NEVER receive an actual telephone call and if allowed, a man or woman will continue to text you, add you to their group distribution lists for jokes and chain letters along with countless requests for photos.

Should the moons and stars are properly aligned, a call might be placed for one of those “in traffic, just called to say hi” conversations and since it’s likely the person on the other end is socially retarded, you’ll end up wishing they had really Facebook’d or texted instead. Depending on how things might be going in a person’s life (as in they’re having problems in a relationship, just been dumped or are really bored), there’s a unique substitution that may be offered. It’s either presented in the form of you “meeting up” somewhere if they suddenly remembered your name and location, “hanging out” at some crowded space with other random people or another personal favorite – asking you to “come through” which is really morse code for getting fu@ked.

Photo Credit: Brian Ward via Twitter
Photo Credit: Brian Ward via Twitter

I could go on and on but again,  you get where I’m going with this and many of us can readily admit how screwed up the dating scene is.  As if dealing with another person’s baggage, lifestyle challenges and everything else isn’t enough, now we have a generation of lazy daters.  I just wish we could bring back that old school type of dating.

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones

14,608 Days

In less than 24 hours I’ll be celebrating my 40th birthday and I’m soooooo excited!

A small part of me wants to bitch and moan about being single, not having a snuggle bunny at the end of the night after I’m all sweaty and tipsy but to hell with any of those negative thoughts.  I’ll never understand why turning a year older seem to be such a daunting event instead of it being a time of celebration.  So what it’s cuffing season and there aren’t any good players on the bench, but at least I can say I spent the year doing something that makes me even more of a catch – working on me.

Who does that, right?

I could certainly accept the possibility that in all of the time spent this year with finishing up school, traveling to Europe, stepping things up as a public speaker and more, I’ve made some pretty half-assed efforts towards meeting Mr. Right Now.  No need to go down that road and besides – I didn’t come here for any of that stuff because there are more exciting things to think about such as my birthday party and the few hangovers who have been invited.

You know my golden rule when it comes to men not making the cut is to put them in the cozy friends zone and if I actually had some type of feelings for them, leave them the hell alone.  So obviously, if I’m comfortable enough to invite several of them out to mingle with close friends, these are the ones who are either harmless and have never even gotten close to getting booty.  Although I am expecting to see that one who has flipped it, smacked it, handcuffed me and had me screaming for more.  Oh the joy in watching my friends trying to figure out which is which.

mystery manI can’t wait and hopefully will have a tantalizing story about how my night ends but until then, I’m wishing you all a very merry Christmas and since January is the start of new resolutions for most, get ready for some new dating adventures.  I’ve heard that there are quite a few things to expect as a 40 year-old woman when it comes to dating (expectations/needs) and the sex drive as well.  This should be a very interesting year for me.

Until there’s a cure. ..

Carmen Jones

The Come Back Charlie’s

Hangovers aren’t really feelings you ever want to return but every now and then,  I just might entertain the idea of being entertained.  It’s been several years since I’ve been seen the one called The Black Russian,  but we have both been in and out of the online dating scene so we have chatted briefly a time or two.

Yesterday he decided to reach out via telephone and before I share the how his life has been since we met, here’s a little throwback post to reintroduce or introduce him to you.  If you want to read about how that first encounter ended, click here.

And now on to The Date with The Black Russian, Part 1…



Okay, do you want the short version or the tale with all the goodies because Friday night’s date with the one I’ll call “Black Russian” ended with a few laughs, moans, a few groans and quite possibly a few tears.  In fact, this  guy’s name should really be “Almost 10” or “Ovary Killer” and by the end of this post, you’ll understand what I mean.  It is not my intent to be a writer of erotica but hey, the purpose of the blog is to share my experiences so boys and girls, here we go!

                                                                                    The Guy  

A few details about my latest hangover candidate include the obvious – this amalgamated specimen is the product of a black father (the black man  is always tapping into other oceans) and a Russian orthodox mother.   I joked with him that he was the first his kind for me and was the first person I was meeting off of Plenty of Fish this second time around.

Yeah, I know I said I’d given up online dating months ago but I really just signed up for this service with no intention of meeting anyone.  Honestly, most dating sights are pure comic relief with the photos and profiles alone, but I signed up to get articles and thread posts for blog material.  Anyway, back to our guy.  He’s quite handsome, towering over me with 6’4, thin to medium build frame, with beautiful teeth and has a complexion of a latte with two tablespoons of cream. I hate hate hate having a type and as much as I try to escape from it,  he was my typical looking guy.

                                                                              Setting the Date  After a few phone conversations and texting, Black Russian finally said how it would be cool if we finally met up so we agreed on Friday; the destination was up in the air.  Now let me say this – I normally like a guy to do all of the planning and just give me an idea on what attire I should consider, I like to be surprised but understanding that has probably backfired a time or two, I was okay that we didn’t have a “where to” set in stone.  The plan was to meet up at his house, though I made it clear I would wait for him OUTSIDE his place and we’ve go from there.

                                                                                 The Meeting   

Hooray!!!! He looks like his profile and the follow up picture and not like a ninja turtle and yay!!! He wasn’t dressed like he was going to shoot pool with the homeboys (remember Ghetto 2Pac?).  Dressed in a date-appropriate outfit consisting of a dark v-neck, jacket, jeans and black shoes and smelling great he drove us to our destination for dinner and drinks.  Black Russian’s a nice guy, converses well and has manners so I enjoyed our time out.  Fireworks, moments of WOW and thoughts of this might be a connection?  No, I didn’t feel any real chemistry and it was likely mutual so if anything, we both had probably figured we could become friends at best.  The night was going well until we did the unthinkable on a first date – started talking about sex.

Sometimes you meet a person and you have absolutely nothing in common.  Sometimes you have many things in common but you just don’t like the person.  Sometimes you are so-so, nothing that knocks your socks off about the person and you make do. Sometimes you meet a person and find you are on the EXACT SAME PAGE, especially when it comes to something you both really enjoy.  Sex.

                                                                           Bragada & Carmen  

Alright, so dinner and a few drinks combined with talks about past relationships, what worked and what didn’t.  Does size matter, conversations you should not have after sex, crazy women and all that good first date stuff is how we closed out dinner.   Once I’d mentioned the inadequate size of an ex’s tool, Black Russian seemed shocked that a woman could tolerate such a small, pitiful, disappointing piece of—  okay, I digressed.  Anyway, he asks me with the grin of a Cheshire cat “8+inches enough for you?”

Needless to say, while waiting for our pitifully sorry waiter to come with the check I don’t think either of us was ready for the night to end.  I know this is really an invitation to get some booty, but when he asked me if I wanted to come back to his place and “chill” for a bit over some drinks, I really didn’t care.  I did not PLAN on things happening the way they did, but after the vodka (what else would a Russian drink!) and cranberry, small talk about friends and living space, reminiscing over old slow jams we loved and agreeing that a Prince concert is a must see, as we sat on the sofa he went in for the kill.  My neck.

Ladies, I don’t know how many erogenous zones you may have but you know that one really gets you going and for me, it’s my neck.  It seems like it is the most sensitive area at times, because I’m extremely ticklish in one way but the right touch, kiss or lick sends me well – not laughing, that’s for sure.  So the kiss on the neck goes to the cheek, to the lips and oh, the lips.  Soft, succulent, moist, full, powerful.  Black Russian had made this comment about his mouth days ago when I asked him if his bong and cannabis hobby left him with dry, chaffed lips.  Not only did he fire off an adjective laden reply, he topped it off by telling me those same lips could elicit orgasm after orgasm.  How’s that for a little pre-meeting foreplay?

So after a really intense necking, kissing, nipple sucking & breast massaging session he comes at me with what is probably the cheesiest line EVER – “Come on, I want you to see how soft my bed is”.

Really?  We just this heated you’re-making-me-moist grinding session and that’s the best line to get me in your room?  Well I’m sorry, you must think I’m the most naïve, just got off the turnip truck type of girl you can say anything to because…. Because… It worked!  LOL!!!!

Through the black curtains and to the bedroom we go and shortly after I met Bragada.  Slow down pervs, not another woman or anything but the bed – this guy wasn’t kidding because this memory foam with a dash of heaven was the most comfortable bed I’ve ever laid my body on.  We lay there talking and laughing about me now being a believer when suddenly he says he wanted to show me what else was the softest.

Enter the “Hey, what are you doing” as he pulls quickly manipulates through the belt loops and zipper of my jeans, followed by the “oh no, you’re not doing that” as he’s telling me exactly how he’s going to get multiple orgasms out of me ending with the inaudible “Oh my GOD” and some other things I said that I simply cannot remember.

The Black Russian delivered.  Orgasm after orgasm, back to back.  Knee shaking, spine tingling.  Damn, and this is after just the first date?  I felt weak, pleaded for him to give me a break but he was relentless.  So of course, you know what happens next…..

To be continued…

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones

Anna Mae, Eat the Cake!


This post is dedicated to any woman who thought she was being too picky, said no too quickly or even said these dreaded “may as well” when going out with someone she should have ignored and deleted.   It’s going to be a long one, so grab your coffee and take a seat.

On the surface, this one hangover seemed like a pretty decent catch.  He’s educated, is a homeowner,  and has been pretty successful in a career as a social worker for over ten years.  The bonus was that he decided not to operate as if he was a sperm bank and only had one child of wedlock.  The man mentioned something about having goals, travel plans, and  more and if I played my cards right, likely would have wined and dined me, sparing no expense.  There is hope after all if what I told myself.  Yet at the same time, I believe this same man would have BEAT the living daylights out of me if I told a joke that he didn’t find funny, wore something he disliked, refused to pop a woman in the head with a bottle and most certainly, I  would have been strangled if I dare question anything about his manhood.  In all of my dating experiences, I don’t think I have ever, ever, ever witnessed a person showing their raging maniac temper on a date (the first date, no less) and showing NO remorse.  Not ever.

In fact, towards the end of the Nightmare in Temecula he’s telling me how well the date went, adding that the two of us would make a power couple.  He had his ego so far up his ass that he hadn’t noticed my angst.  While his visions of us running through the lilies hand in hand,  I had visions of him slapping the hell out of me, sending me flying over the hood of my car.   It was painfully obvious that he was talking about a different date, night and person.  Allow me to introduce what I have managed to dodge, a man named Bullet.  Although he wasn’t necessarily desirable in terms of location living in the Inland Empire but just as I explained above – he had his shit together.  Just like the others who graduated from in-box chats to the number exchange, Bullet did all of the right things in the beginning and opened up the lines of communication with catchy, well written messages showing just the right amount of interest that weren’t too desperate and soon after he messaged,  we graduated to step 3 of the online dating game,   the telephone conversation.

You might be wondering if he was really good looking and the answer is no, even though he bragged about people saying he looked like Edris Elba. Maybe at night, after a drink or two and a missing contact lens.  Not horrible, but decent enough and so it began but about thirty minutes into the conversation,  I started learning about the type of guy he really was and man- why or why do we always ignore that first instinct?  Likely because the person we’re picking up the bad vibe from is good at running game and will tell you “it was just a joke” or “don’t be so serious”, making you feel like there’s just a big misunderstanding.  First conversations usually include topics such as asking what a person does for a living, length of single hood, favorite sports team or when the first meeting will be, right? Ours had a few others that I wasn’t really used to but I took them for what they were worth, immediately being made aware of Bullet’s “intense phobia of fat women”.  He asked no less than five times if the person in my photos were really me, and added his last couple of dates ended in disaster when he met women who were “two cheeseburgers from floating” or “wheezed when wobbling.”  He’s serious about weight which is cool, I feel the same about teeth.

It’s true when they say you can take a person out of the ghetto but you can’t take the ghetto out of a person.  This guy is proud about living in Temecula, but at times would say things as if he was on 54th and Vernon in South Central LA.  So out of curiosity I asked where he was originally from and when he replied “Why, I sound like I’m from somewhere other than out here” I knew he was a hood transplant.   Before I could say anything else he suddenly started yelling “No,  you greedy ass now get the hell out of here!”.  Seconds later, he calmly returns to the discussion as if nothing had ever happened.  Bullet seemed to go from 0 to 60 in five seconds flat but I brushed of that incident as annoyance after a long day.

So on to the second instance of his questionable behavior which happens to be Saturday, and an early morning talk between the two of us goes pretty well. Bullet was in a pretty jovial mood and commented how much he really wanted to meet me and he just knew we would hit it off. There WERE quite a few things we had in common, so it was a no brainer when he asked if I wanted to go to a comedy show later that night.  But then things got interesting when we chatted about the meet up.  Control freak.

The plan was for Bullet to contact me later that afternoon to solidify the plans, but instead  I didn’t hear back from him until about 7:30pm.  Sure, I could have called Bullet earlier to see what was up, but if someone tells you they’ll be busy working, it is to be understood that they’ll be busy working.  With that in mind, getting a phone call at that time and confirming plans at 8pm for a show that starts at 10pm, factoring in a 50 minute drive was cutting it close.  When I commented to him that I may be a little late he quickly replied “Late? Why would you be late?  It takes you that long to get ready or do you drive that slow?” There was a bit of silence at first and I quickly fired back “No smart ass, neither but I’m not sure what part of the area you think I live in, but I’m closer to the beach”.  Bullet starts laughing and says “Damn baby, I’m just joking – stop being so serious.  Do what you need to do, text me as soon as you leave the house and I’ll see you in a bit.”

You can be completely turned off by how someone behaves in public.  I’m sure I broke the speed limits to get there on time but I made it only to meet up with this man who walked up to me like he was 6’5, with tons of muscles and balls the size of door knobs.  He’s smoothing his hair down and starts licking his lips like I was the two-piece special from KFC.  Really dude? Not only was his thirsty behavior killing me I was pissed that his photo “enhancements” were more on the side of deceiving. He did NOT have an average build (weighed no more than 110 wet), he was not 5’10 (probably 5’7),  and those lips did NOT look so succulent (more like tar in color).  Bullet wasn’t a Critter, but  went overboard with Photoshop. Lastly, his pimp walk was out of control and I could tell he did that the type of person who liked being the center of attention.

Setting aside his animated antics, he was still acting like a gentleman by complimenting me, opening doors, pulled out chairs and allowed me to order first when the waitress arrived.  As we sat waiting for the first comic to come up, the clouds, thunder and lightning started suddenly began moving towards the comedy club. All I can say is poor waitress.  Apparently when Bullet barked his order to her over the loudness of the club, she missed a crucial part of his request because when she brought out his beer BEFORE his food, he lost his mind.

All I heard was something about warm beer and the waitress apologized again and again while trying to leave, he yelled for her to take it away and bring another when the food is ready. If only I could click my heels and disappear to Kansas but instead, my eyes just told the poor girl I was sorry for him being an asshole. Seeing anyone treat a server like that is ridiculous and when he leaned over  to gain my support, whispering and introducing me to breath that smelled a little like my gym shoes, I just shook my head. Bullet asked if I heard when he asked for the drink and meal at the same time, I said no and joked “Easy killer” and he joked back “I wasn’t mad at her; I was just giving her a hard time – stop being so serious.”

Alright, so comedy the show is absolutely fabulous and Bullet’s personality remains in “friendly” mode.  We joked around a little bit and when he said he knew of a nice spot nearby with good drinks and music, I reluctantly agreed to go.  I wasn’t dressed for a nightclub but alcohol at the end of a date like this sounded good to me, especially because I already knew that there would never ever be another with him. Several minutes later, we arrive at some place and this is where things really got interesting, and soon I realized all that I ever needed to know or wanted to know about this nut.  You should not mouth off around someone with anger management issues.

In a matter of about twenty minutes, the question of where he was originally from was answered with “the hood” and I also learned how much he hated had Mexicans.  I mean really dude – we ARE in California, so I’m not sure why you were so surprised that a nightclub in one of the areas with the highest population of “those suckers” was so shocking. Knowing how Bullet feels about our surrounding explains his behavior when this one guy in a wheelchair who obviously should have backed away from the bar hours ago, kept circling in the middle of us while he was dancing.  He was inching closer and closer out of his chamber and when wheelchair dancer either accidentally or drunkenly got a little too close, I saw Bullet’s handle begin to cock so I quickly pulled him away towards the bar.

I’ll mention again that I was dressed for a comedy club and not a nightclub, so after a while I told Bullet that it was too hot inside.  He turns to me and says “No one told you to wear all of that hot shit; you knew you were coming out here so I don’t know what you were thinking.”  My jaw dropped to the floor and I guess the expression on my face was pretty bad because he starts laughing and says “Damn girl, I’m just joking – stop being so serious all the time.”  I am beside myself, outside myself and ready to turn into someone other than myself and several scenes from “What’s Love Got To Do With It”  played out in my head, especially the part when Ike kept telling Anna Mae to eat the cake before shoving it in her face.

Before I could tell him to shove his “jokes” up his ass and bounce out the door, this (drunk) chick comes strolling by and ends up elbowing him in the back while trying to get through the crowded walk way.  Oh-My- God.  I think my brain was trying to process my escape strategy out of this club when Bullet’s face changes, that forehead crease turns into a fold and he whips around and shoves her.  As if that wasn’t bad enough, he yells at her saying “What the fu@k is wrong with you; you can’t just elbow people in the back like that.  You fu@king crazy??”  In a matter of seconds her face went from shock (what the hell, did I just get shoved), to disgust (no he did not just talk to me like that), to fear (oh wow, he’s nuts).  She stuttered an apology and Bullet fired back repeating the question, telling her to apologize again and added that she needs to be more respectful. All I could think of was how long it would take for the woman’s boyfriend, brother or friend to come over there with a chair, bottle or knife and that would be the end of Carmen.  When I say I exited stage left, I mean I EXITED stage left.  I can’t even remember how I got out of there so fast, but all I know is that Bullet was behind me asking me to slow down wondering why I was upset.

As funny as this may sound, the man REALLY believed that the woman had done the elbow move on purpose because he 2 as black.  Anything else he was saying is a blur because I was in escape mode, fumbling for my keys while walking.  He’s still talking and then asks if I agreed that the night had gone well and when I laughed,  said no and walked even faster, asked what was my problem.  “That situation could have been handled differently and you should not put hands on a woman like that”. This clown just sucked his teeth and said the types of women he’s dealt with would have thought his actions were right in line. Bullet professed how he needed a ride or die chick; the type of woman would have backed him up, had his back, realized he was a “real” man, and probably even offered to beat the chick up.  Sorry boo, but I’m not that woman and while you think it’s been a great date this nightmare must come to an end.

Until there’s a cure for the dating hangovers…

Carmen Jones

The Simple Truth


“Bad dates help you formulate that list of absolute deal breakers.  Good dates teach you what you love about spending time with someone special….”


Just My Luck


It’s a Friday night and I have the pleasure (more like torture) of shoe shopping with my teenage son. I’m sitting here minding my business, giving the occasional thumbs down to shoe after shoe, but then felt someone burning a hole into the side of my face. I turn to my left and see a guy standing there, arms behind his back, staring right at me and smiling. And so it begins..

The obvious thing to do is to return the smile and quickly turn the other direction, especially if you’re not interested. For the average person, you get the message and keep it pushing but not this dude. I look his way again and noticed he’s inched closer and still has that creepy ass grin and I then realizes that he may be a little “special”. I smiled again, said “Hi” and turned away one again.

Gone yet? Nope, he’s still there and after what seemed like ten minutes, he flashes his biggest smile yet and replies with “Hi, I’m having a great day but it would be so much better if you gave me your number.” Once he finally spoke I rules out the short bus theory and settled for strange and pushy. Bless the hearts of the men who just go for it, but he didn’t have a chance. He wasn’t attractive and this creepy ass stare down session wasn’t helping. Besides all of that, he’s still standing there with his hands behind his back like he had a surprise waiting for me.

By now, my kid has shifted his attention from a pair of LeBron ‘ s to our interaction so I simply replied “No, I’m involved with someone so we can’t exchange anything, sorry.” He thinks for a moment then starts smiling again then tells me he can just give me his and then it wouldn’t be an exchange. I guess he figured he had come up with the most creative shit ever, because he had a hopeful look on his face and started inching closer.

I just couldn’t take anymore of the shenanigans, stood up and walked away and thought about an online interaction days ago. A man messaged me FIVE times, I responded not ONCE. Clearly, we have a catch 22 situation because you can tell someone no thanks or ignore and the results seem to be the same. The good thing about dealing with someone online is the ability to block anyone who’s a pest or just doesn’t understand “not interested”. In person? You just have to deal with it. Ugh.

I just shared this with a friend who says “You have a way of attracting these types.” Don’t I already know this. Nowadays it seems like the possibility of meeting a single, like-minded, normal person where there is a mutual attraction seems like waiting for a purple unicorn.

Until there’s a cure….

Carmen Jones

But at Least She HAS a Man!


“Finally, I have met my soul mate. He is a true lover of the Lord, engages me in deep and thought-provoking conversations and compliments me constantly. Never have I had a man tell me how beautiful I am several times a day, not even my ex-husband and I can’t recall the last time I have ever felt so wanted by a man. Sure, he’s got a few minor things to work out but I’m not worried about any of that.”

Isn’t this lovely?

This was a conversation I had a few weeks ago with a co-worker who’s in her 50’s y as she gushed about how much in love she was with someone she stumbled on from Plenty of Fish. Of course after she shares the story with me and I’ve told her I was happy for her while wishing her luck for a positive and long-term experience, she turns and asks if there was a prospect in the works for me. I simply replied “No, and I’m okay with it right now” and then she tells me “Carmen, you better come down off of those high standards and expectations or you’re going to end up alone into your 50’s like I was…”

Certain situations require you to simply smile and walk away.

My standards seem incredibly unrealistic in her eyes, acting as if she’s just fallen in love with the most desirable man on earth.  Not only have I learned that she’s relaxed her standards by dealing with a man that is still married (been there, done that) – she also shared that he has a few other “things to work on”.

is acting like her catch is the best of the best because not only did I learn that he is still married, he has a few other “things to work on”:

Job?  Nope
Car? Nope
Own place?  Nope
Driver’s license?  Nope

Can someone really be so blindly in love that they don’t care about a person’s circumstances, even the inability to take care of their basic needs? It still confuses the hell out of me how men (and women are guilty of it as well) have their twisted little minds lying to them, making it okay to even think about dating. Sure, everyone deserves to find someone to make them happy and get a little love but how about getting your shit together first.

Being able to fulfill your own basic needs should be a given, if not a requirement before you even consider dating someone, shouldn’t it?  Okay, so life happens and your car could break down, you need to crash at your parent’s house for a little while or maybe that license lapsed but dating and being unemployed?  What’s even more interesting shocking to me is the mindset of some people who really believe that being unemployed AND actively trying to date is okay.  The guy writing this article even says being in this status is a good time to redefine yourself.  Really?

If this is what my “high” standards need to be reduced to, I’ll look at adopting about two or three  more cats and make sure I’ve got a slew of AA  batteries on stand-by for the rough times.

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones

Therapy is Sexy

therapist chair

Since I’ve been back from my European vacation, things have been pretty quiet on the hangover front and to be honest – I’m enjoying the down time.  Not having to worry about getting all dolled up for a meet-up with some creep who drives around with a bottle of Moscato or feeling bad for accepting a “friendly”  outing from a former hangover when I realize he still has hope that something could ever be is just a bit much.  It’s been a little over 3 years now in my single hood and every now and then, a self-imposed vacation from men occurs.

Now is just the time to sit back, relax, reflect, observe and share dating horror stories and not with other women but with a man I used to date – USBC which was short for “Until Something Better Comes Along” and you can read up on him here and  here.

We’ve been Facebook friends for quite some time now and over the years, each of the things we’ve said to each other have come true:

Dating him wasn’t really an option because he hated the idea of marriage, wasn’t interested in having anymore children and actually loathed the idea of being in a relationship – plus his 5’5 stature just wasn’t appealing to me.   He told me he understood I was looking for something else and joked that I would end up with the man who wanted all of the above, but that the dude would have so many issues it wouldn’t work.  This fucker was right on the money because once I left him alone, Rescue came back into my life creating emotional havoc.

Dating me wasn’t really an option because (at the time) I was interested in having another child, loved the idea of being in a relationship and certainly wanted to be married in the future.  I told him he was the type of man who would attract broken women looking to be rescued, who likely wanted a new daddy for their kids, wanted the baby, marriage and the moon and he would settle down with her anyway knowing he wanted none of those things.  He would stay with the woman, be completely miserable then break up with her and blow up her heart and mind.  I was right on the money and he’s still unable to explain how he ended up in that relationship in the first place.

Saying all of this to say this – USBC told me something that wasn’t at all shocking and is actually something I think about 95% of the men I’ve been involved with are in need of – some damn therapy!

Sometimes you have to take a breather from dating and relationships to reflect on the types of people you have been with and how things may have ended to really see what the common denominator is and after a few sofa sessions with his therapist, he had finally resolved that the problem was within.  I knew this was the case all along but for some reason, hearing this man talk to me without the ego and just saying how he had so many opportunities for happiness with wonderful women was a tremendous turn on.  It was HIS emotional baggage that was causing problems.


I’ve been saying it over and over and over again how many emotionally (or even mentally damaged) people in the world are constantly screwing up the emotions and lives of the unsuspecting victims on the other end.

Just think – if more people would swallow their pride and recognize that their upbringing as a child, dysfunctional family and every imaginable life event in between and take some action by having a seat in a darkly lit office on someone’s couch, there’s a chance for more of the healthy and happy relationships.  One of the last conversations I had with Out of Sight was actually in the dim lighting of my living room,  on my couch when I told him this:  “You are a great catch indeed;  handsome, smart, funny, ambitious and an excellent lover but please promise me this – get yourself some therapy before you even THINK about getting involved with another woman.  Save yourself some time and save her the headache and disappointment…”

Times have certainly changed and my maturity has come full circle because years ago, hearing a man talk about therapy was one of those things that might send me running for the hills but now?  At least he’s trying and the thought of him working on himself is incredibly sexy.  The likelihood of men like Out of Sight or any others following in his steps?  Slim to none but hey, that’s none of my business.

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones



The Selfish Fucker

hititThey say it’s best to try everything at least twice and that’s exactly what I did with this latest hangover who as of Wednesday, so it seems like this was a mutual agreement to hit it and quit it.

Our initial encounter went pretty well  and if  you recall, the sexual interaction was a little strange and not very satisfying with me because it felt like I was in bed with Roger Rabbit who was doped up on some type of enhancement drug.  He just couldn’t get enough because as he said over and over again, “your pussy is just so damn good” and it seemed to me as if I was expected to just give in to his raging appetite.  During our post-sex wrap up, he asked again if it was really that bad because we had gone on for so long and said it was because he had consumed so much Vodka and swears the drinks gave him some super powers which explained that crazy marathon sex.

Seriously?  Of course I had to do a little checking on the benefits of Vodka myself and learned that some types have potato byproducts but guess what?  Didn’t find shit that said libidos are being extended by having a dirty martini or two so I’m sticking with him having popped a pill before we went to dinner.  This guys ego was something else because it was almost as if he was expecting me to give him four gold stars for our encounter but instead, I had to admit that because of the chaffing and just exhaustion it wasn’t such a great experience for me and in the end it was because he’s a selfish fucker.

With the exception of a brief moment of me straddling him before being tossed over on my back like a rag doll, the duration of the night was with me being trapped in HIS favorite position which for men who have smaller or thinner penises, love it since it allows for optimum penetration.  I then reminded him that having my knees pressed to my chest with his former football physique on top of me was tantamount to having someone sitting on my chest.  Now that I think about it, he came across as having some serious expectations for that having been our first time because he not only was asking “Who’s pu$$y is this”, he kept begging for a blow job and at one point even had the nerve to get me to try anal sex with him.  No boundaries for this man, none at all but he obviously thought the same applied to me which is the furthest from the truth.

Needless to say, I wasn’t excited about anything else along the lines of intimacy with him but he is a decent enough guy so I at least agreed to a second date with him and figured hey – he might even get a second chance but my mind and body were in a completely different zone than that previous week.  In fact, everything was different with me to the point where I didn’t want to hold his hands and and when he went in for a kiss, he was met with my cheek.  Since we live so far apart we had already decided that he could crash at my place and be gone by checkout time, so we arrived and as I was in the bathroom washing up, he had popped open a bottle of wine and by the time I walked into the bedroom was butt naked in my bed – waiting with glass in hand.  This entire moment was pretty damn comical to me because it reminded me of the scene from Waiting to Exhale and there is something about a cocky bastard just knowing he’s about to get it that infuriates a woman.  So I did the ultimate – started wrapping my hair up in a scarf,  threw on my pajamas and turned onto my side before telling him “Nighty night”.

Have you ever been laying in the bed and felt someone’s eyes burning a whole into your back?  Yep, this is exactly what I was feeling and was tickled pink when he kept telling me the clothes and panties had to come off because he was definitely getting some before he went to sleep.  Again, the expectations of this man were incredible and it was because of his attitude that having sex ready and available at his beckon call that I lay there telling him it just wasn’t going to happen.  He asked again and again “Why” and “Why not” before finally saying that he had to respect my decision and would “handle things” accordingly.

Now he’s pissed because he can’t get his way and can’t understand how I was so willing the first time and unwilling the second.  Interestingly enough, I sometimes wake up in the wee hours of the morning if I’m with a man and have an intense craving for sex so this night was no different.  All it took was a couple of rubs on his bald head and shoulders from me to awaken him and within a few moments, we were both ready to go and then within about TWO minutes, it was over.  Yes, three minutes and what’s the first thing that comes out of a man’s mouth when he comes too quickly?  “This has never happened to me before”.

I can’t win for nothing with this dude – it’s either too long or too short so he either didn’t have time to take something, was so excited that I finally gave in or maybe it was the rum and coke he had and not the Vodka.  No hard feelings here and at least I tried something new and did it  more than once.  There weren’t any expectations of him other than the exploration of sex with a new partner and for him this woman wasn’t willing to deliver whenever and however he wanted so this just means I’m back to my Ladysgasm or sticking with the regular players with proven track records of consistency and satisfaction.

Until there’s a cure….

Carmen Jones


Too Much Continued….Minus the Spam!

For the first time in the years I’ve been writing this blog, a post was sent out loaded with Spam content including everything from naughty messages to Cialis recommendations.  Could it be purely coincidental since “erectile dysfunction” was one of the tagged phrases?  I don’t know but apologize profusely for any confusion.  While there were quite a few dirty birds who were still able to read through the muddle, here’s the post again without the Spam:


I’ll just cut to the chase and say that this weekend was a bit of a whirlwind and no – this has nothing to do with that nice fella I went camping with a few weeks ago.  That poor guy still remains stuck in that same zone after about three months now and although he was a perfect gentleman, treated me like royalty and loved that I got along so well with his group of friends, his status hasn’t elevated not one bit. Strictly platonic and even after sleeping in the same bed inside our tent he got nothing more than a kiss on the cheek.  At least I tried and tried to feel something for him but I just can’t force the physical attraction felt for any man and as a woman, when we’ve made up our minds about who we’re having sex with and how soon, it will happen.  In fact, just a few days earlier during the week as I sipped my key lime martini while chatting with a girlfriend I told her about my upcoming date, adding how it was time for some fresh meat so my mind was made up about how the date was going to end.  I knew that he was a good guy on paper and really has his life together, but his purpose has been defined based on him only being in California until his kid finishes school.  Sounds like a fling-material for sure so by Saturday that same friend received my update saying  “Grrrrrrrreat date, sore pu$$y and tow yard”.

There’s a lot going on in that last sentence, right?

The date itself was exactly what we both expected because our conversations leading up to it told us so.  We’re equally yoked. Smart, confident,  focused, sarcastic, funny, stable, direct, and sexually charged.  This guy is a straight shooter who loves to take charge and is willing and most importantly ABLE to afford life’s little luxuries.  He is the type of person who knows a little bit about everything and even though I joked a few times that he was borderline cocky, his ability to keep me engaged each time we speak is a definite plus.  If no one believes that how a man talks to you can be incredibly sexy, you heard it here and if he has a deep, soothing voice with crisp words of clarity, that is like the icing on a cake. Perhaps it’s the first date in months where I was actually attracted to the man on so many levels, or maybe it was the combination of alcohol and the booming beats at the bar we visited after dinner that had me so riled up.  I can’t really put say what made me so hot and heavy but my little kitty was ready for some action.  The way he stared at me from across the room with eyes that said he could just devour me was a turn on and  when he would touch me ever so gently while guiding my pool stick for that perfect shot, I was turned on even more.

Suffice to say that when we made it back to his place, it  was time to release a little tension.  Now here’s where things get a little interesting and for the life of me, I absolutely love a man who has dick control and doesn’t reach his peak and need to release too soon though I understand sometimes it can happen if it’s just that good.  On the other end of the spectrum is the man who takes a little while longer to get to the end which can be a little annoying to a woman but for the life of me – I have never ever ever been with a man like this whose appetite for sex and fellatio was continuous.  Hours have passed by and my legs are aching from being pressed against my chest, which has caused my breathing to be a little shallower from the pressure, combined with multiple orgasms so everything just felt really sore.  The only reason we actually took any periods of break is because I had tapped out and please believe it was enjoyable but damn – at what point does it become annoying when you’ve been going at it for so long?  Especially for a woman.  I told him where I could see a problem with us carrying on any further because intercourse seemed to be never ending for him (I even asked if he had popped a magic pill) but for me, I’m quite satisfied after about an hour in the same setting.  Am I alone here or is there really such a thing as too much of a good thing?

Fortunately, the minute man has only frequented these sugar walls once or twice in my life but I know of far too many women who deal with this in their relationships and marriages.  It sucks when you’re just getting started and the man is already done (the average length of sexual intercourse is about 5 minutes according to this article) but ladies should be careful what they ask for because the opposite end of the spectrum can be just as bad and anything beyond about 45 minutes at a time is crazy to me.   Let me repeat – we were going at it for hours and while my juices are definitely flowing pretty well, just as with anything else the wetness doesn’t last forever and after a while marathon sex just becomes frustratingly painful.  I think this woman sums up my feelings perfectly when this guy asks her what’s the problem and why she doesn’t like going a long time:

Because my internal organs are being repeatedly rammed with a nine inch long pole, and the outer bits get rubbed raw from simple stretching and chafing. I have extremely sensitive skin and a tiny vaginal opening, so even short sex sessions can leave me achy and feeling a little torn.

Here’s another comment on how marathon sex feels to women:

It’s not about how wet you can stay or how much lube you’re using so I think everyone gets sore after some time no matter of much lube you got.  Imagine shoving something big up your nose that stretches out your nostril for a long time;  Even if you had lube you would still get sore after a while.

Yes, that’s pretty much what I was feeling and a swollen and chaffed vagina serves neither of us any purpose.  Just to think – it’s been one whole year since I’ve had a new sexual partner, there’s no fear of me getting emotionally attached to this one and he truly has it together making him an ideal to date for a while but his appetite may be too much. Hopefully he’s taken heed to our post-sex discussions and realizes that going on and on until the break of dawn isn’t the way to go for me.  We’re going out again this weekend so we’ll see how things go and oh – about that tow yard?  Well….when we finally gave the bed a break and I sent him to fetch my overnight bag, something told me there was a problem when he hadn’t returned after almost half an hour.  It turns out that the area where he suggested my car stay parked was NOT an overnight parking spot so at some point between my first and last orgasm, my little red caboose was towed away.  A few telephone calls later, several miles down the road and $350.00 out of his pocket later, I was on my merry little way with my hangover, achy thighs and chaffed lips.

All things considered, it was a good date.

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones


That Friend Zone

rejectionA new guy has made his way into my life and in a few hours, we’ll be headed out for somewhat of a couples camping trip followed by a little cruising in his boat but we certainly are not a couple.

It’s obvious we’ve been get along pretty well during last few months or so we have known each other and he’s been trying so hard to get in more time with me.  We’ve enjoyed outings at comedy venues, dinner and even a relaxing day at the pier as a pre-Mother’s Day celebration (with a bouquet of roses to top things off) and in between, several enjoyable telephone conversations.  In fact, he’s extended a few other invitations to spend time with me but I’ve either been too busy or simply didn’t want to seem like I was leading him on.  After the second date, I told him up front that I liked him as a friend but nothing more than that and supposedly, he’s accepted the fact that he’s stalled out in the proverbial friend zone.

This lack of attraction deal feels like a fucking curse because he’s probably the fifth or sixth man I’ve met in the last couple of years who seemed like a pretty good fit for me but neither my mind nor emotions were willing to accept them as being anything more.  For the sake of not sounding like a completely shallow person, I have to say that it hasn’t just been the appearance issue with these men.  They may be okay or doable, but there’s always been some other issues compounding things making it next to impossible to even want anything more from them besides a hug.

So…. We shall see if he’s able to keep it in the friend zone from the car to the tent to the lake.  It too damn bad I can’t tell my mind how to think or reprogram my emotions to be attracted to these men.

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones

It’s Been a Long Time


It’s been far too long since I’ve posted and after being asked several times “who is he” from the hopefuls who think all of my time as of late is being consumed with some fabulous specimen of a man like say, Omari Hardwick.  Isn’t it funny how being missing in action just has to be associated with someone of the opposite sex.  Why can’t it just be as simple as I’ve been busy?  Not good enough, too boring right? omari

There’s no man who has swept me off my feet, has been showing me the time of my life or even rocking my world sexually.  In fact, there have been far too many times over the course of the last couple of months where I didn’t give a shit about dating men at all and this was all because of the deal I made with God earlier this year.

You read correctly, I said  a deal was made and don’t act like I’m the only one who puts extra emphasis on certain prayers of what you want or need as you barter and agree to do something in exchange.  Does anyone remember back in the day you would get into trouble, be worried or terrified about something happening and all of a sudden your prayers seemed more like begging a friend for a favor?  Here’s one I remember from my early 20’s that was a little like “Lord, please if you make my period come today I won’t have sex with him without a condom ever again” or “God, please don’t let my house burn down because I left that flat-iron on laying on the towel and I promise, I’ll make it to church more this year”.  There have been plenty of times where I needed to call in a couple of favors, so my request to the man above while bringing in the new year was to bless me with some major changes, somewhere in my life.

A new job (because I was close to choking the life out of someone), my first home (because I was close to choking my realtor and had given up) OR a wonderful man.  I didn’t ask for all three, but just one because I realized where I am in life that something just had to give.  You can’t have too many major goals being sought after all at once so my deal was for the one – a new and challenging position at work and for once in a long time, I am so happy with my career.  Now having this type of euphoria in such a critical area in life does NOT take away my desires for a good man and eventual lifetime partner, but let’s just say it makes me a lot more relaxed (at least for now) about that goal since I did only asked for one of the three.  I’m getting acclimated to the new job and wrapping up my master’s degree with one class left, making final preparations for my Europe trip this summer so I’m just really in this amazingly awesome place in life right now and feeling quite fulfilled.

Still, it’s about time to get in a little dating here and there and just have fun with it.  I don’t plan on wasting my time with any of those types of men who are undateable, but a girl still likes to be wined and dined along with being entertained every now and then.  I’ve got a date tomorrow night with a potential who seems like a funny character, someone cool to hang out with and he’s very accomplished.  Alright now, let’s keep those fingers crossed that things go well and even though I’ve already used up one of my wishes, a nice bonus for the year is certainly welcomed.

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones



Is it THAT bad?

Uh…. yes.  Online dating is that bad and for some reason the convicts seem to be the main ones looking for love.

Check the background and I dare anyone to tell me this dude isn’t missing his shoelaces, is making license plates, or has swapped phone time for the Internet.


This one too and I think it was the door and what is likely wiring for an alarm that gave him away:


And last but not least, this poor sap who didn’t get the memo about the pose. His dumb ass must have forgotten this wasn’t the new mugshot moment:


Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones