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I Can Wear Any Color Nail Polish I Want Because I’m Not Wearing A Shirt

July 19, 2012

Excerpt from The Chic Shall Rule the World by Emsy 

Saturday was quaint. Timsy and I wanted a “detox night” as always, so we started getting dressed for it around 3 p.m. I wore glitter shorts, a black blazer, black platform pumps, chic brass knuckles, glasses that say “I will let you check out that encyclopedia with your library card, then I’m going to fuck you blindfolded,” and no shirt. Ready for a detox.

Naturally, we walked over to Therapy at 5 p.m. They have excellent happy hour specials, which means two-for-one vodka sodas, which means blackout Emsy before she even gets to the “two” portion of two-for-one. As usual, Timsy wanted to smoke after our first drink, so I slurred and stumbled after him like a little rehab-y kitten. All I remember from the cigarette break is Tim on the phone with his friend who was annoyed and complaining about how his boyfriend just broke up with him because he claimed he was cheating, and Tim replying, “But, like, you did cheat. With me.”

Back at the bar, we got our second drink a.k.a. we were both blackout. It was 6 p.m. We’re, like, really frail. I felt myself perched on a precarious ledge of out of control drunkenness, so we got on the subway to get more drinks at a rooftop bar near MSG. I felt real vulnerable, so luckily we were there just long enough for me to wave my hands in the air in a weak attempt to dance to rap, while someone took pictures of me.

At this point, Timsy and I couldn’t see, so we just went to another bar in Chelsea and sat in the quaint garden in the back. It was a dark, isolated corner where the shadows made us look coherent and pretty – maybe as though we were discussing our exhausting days at the jobs we don’t have? I imagine the lighting reflected perfectly off our Read more…

“Slip N Slide”: Top 5 Lubes Reviewed

July 25, 2011

Let’s not beat around the bush boys (and I mean that literally and figuratively)… the difference between a hot encounter and a SIZZLING one is great lube.  I’ll go so far as to even suggest that bad lube is a reason to kick a trick outta bed:  I ain’t gonna get off when my balls stick to your a*s after every thrust, so let’s move on!  But before I reveal the “top performers”, let me let you know how I tested these out:

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Sharing Your New Boyfriend

February 23, 2011

Let me preface this piece by admitting that I may be a total hypocrite.  But at least I’m honest about it.  Anyone who knows me, knows that they should (and MUST, if the friendship is to survive) do as I say, not as I do.  Duh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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