I remember reading a long time ago that the number one most common fear among people is acrophobia, or the fear of heights. Coming in at a close second was glossophobia, more typically known as fear of speaking in public. Considering the intensity with which evolution has trained us to disdain death and social ostracization, these are both natural and understandable fears.
Most men, when you ask them what they want their girlfriend to look like, are going to give you some version of the same response. There will be some variation to account for breast men, butt men, men who like blondes versus those who are all about brunettes, all of that. You may even find some who will talk about wanting girls with “a little meat on their bones”, or similar coded language.
Does penis size matter? To say that for men, at least, the answer is Yes, is an understatement of literally historic proportions. As far back as classical Greece, we have the story of Priapus, a god of fertility who was thematically defined by his shaft. In textual sources and artwork from the time, he is consistently depicted as sporting an enormous, bulbous phallus, so long and thick that it would stick right out from under his loincloth.
Snapchat began as a smartphone app called Picaboo back in 2011. It was built on a pretty simple, yet (at the time) novel idea: What if you could send pictures over the Internet without having them digitally recorded for, potentially, the rest of your life and long after your death? What if the very platform over which an image were transmitted made it so that the recipient would have but a few seconds to view and appreciate your offering, before it would disappear forever into the digital ether?
Have you noticed how damn regulated we, as humans, insist on making our courtship customs? Date on your socio-economic level. Marry someone, or at least get to know them really well, before having sex. Have only one sexual partner at any given time. I swear, it’d be enough to require a college course in Romanceology if we didn’t already have the lessons drilled into us throughout childhood.
Dating a pornstar. For some guys, it’s a non-starter; they aren’t doing it, but more importantly, they wouldn’t want to. They may be the jealous type, or they may be worried about catching STDs (a common, but misinformed concern, as industry-standard testing means porn stars are actually cleaner than the general population). Or maybe they just don’t like the idea of having a girlfriend who mambos with other guys for a living.
We’ve all seen him, and we all want to be him. The smooth-talker in the bar or at the party. The well-groomed, sharply-dressed lady’s man who effortlessly bounces from girl to girl, always striking up and maintaining a flowing conversation with a permanent slick grin and body language that announces he is in control of the encounter.
I really love cam girls, and I’m not just saying that because of the obvious benefits they confer upon me and guys like me through their work. Don’t get me wrong: As a red-blooded heterosexual male, I do adore having the option to see nude or barely-clothed young women pretty much at my leisure, in a live environment in which I’m free to interact with and maybe even personally befriend them.
The very thought of dating a single mom fills some guys with absolute dread. There’s a whole comic stereotype of a guy grinning with desire at a young, beautiful woman, only to turn on his heels and walk in the opposite direction the moment he notices she’s carrying a child or pushing a stroller. Who wants to deal with all the added baggage that comes with a girl who has a kid to worry about?
Ah, Snapchat. That digital haven of gratification where horny young people with the right level of closeness gather to flash each other some skin. I won’t lie, amigos, I’ve got myself a few such trusted friends, and they’re amazing fun (not bragging, here; if you don’t have girls like that in your life now, you too can get them with the application of just a little intelligently directed effort).