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Morning Wood and Pop Crushes

When I was a little kid I'd wake up at the crack of dawn ravenously hungry. I'd walk to the kitchen, secretly hoping to wake up my mom and fix myself Eggo waffles. Twenty years later I'm still an early riser with an appetite, but my cravings have...

SEX - Morning Wood

When I was a little kid I'd wake up at the crack of dawn ravenously hungry. I'd walk to the kitchen, secretly hoping to wake up my mom and fix myself Eggo waffles. Twenty years later I'm still an early riser with an appetite, but my cravings have evolved from Eggos to orgasms. My very best penis friend sleeps in quite late. In the hours I've spent lying next to him staring at the tent he is unknowingly pitching I have become fascinated with morning wood. Sometimes he'll cover his peen with his hands in his sleep because he knows I'll try to play with it. The proper term is nocturnal penile tumescence. It is associated with REM sleep, which occurs the most in the morning.


This is going to sound quite rapey, but morning wood leaves men in an unusually vulnerable state. They're sedated with sleep and last night's scotch with a penis as upright as the Empire State Building. I could plop myself on top and fuck him for a whole minute before he even wakes up and knows what's happening.

I've heard women whine about waking up with a boner poking them in the butt. To them I say - you're going to miss that lap rocket when your man is old and floppy. It's best to take advantage of youth, which is why I'm going guide you through utilizing morning glory.

It's 7:30AM on a Saturday. I'm slightly hungover and wet from a sexy dream involving Annie Clark. My options are:

 A. Take an Ativan and go back to sleep.

 B. Masturbate (God's Ativan) and go back to sleep.

 C. Make sex with the pretty hard penis sleeping next to me.

 D. Get up and go to a yoga class.

This morning the correct answer is C. Time to take advantage of that nocturnal penile tumescence! It's best to ease into it with a nice blow job. Men can't say no to head, they just can't. I guarantee every guy you know has gotten a BJ from a questionable fat chick at some point; once you put a penis in a mouth there's just no turning back.

Crawl under the sheets and start sucking while your man is still sleeping. He'll slowly wake up and be confused, but happy because it is scientifically impossible for men to be annoyed while there's a tongue on their cock. Once he's fully conscious hop on top and  do whatever  freaky shit you like until there's orgasms all around. Then you can both drift peacefully back to sleep lovingly holding one another, having forgotten all about how he called your cat by his ex-girlfriend's cat's name last night on Delancey Street.


DRUGS - Propofol

A few months ago after experiencing symptoms I shall spare you from (fine, uncontrollable diarrhea that peaked when I shat on my kitchen floor in front of my boyfriend) I underwent a colonoscopy to see what the fuck was up. During the procedure I was anesthetized with propofol, known as the "milk of amnesia" for its milky appearance. (I personally think "bliss jizz" is a better nickname but what do I know, I'm not a doctor.)

While waiting for my colonoscopy, dressed in my hospital gown and booties, a man who had just undergone the same procedure stumbled out of his hospital room. I had seen him in the waiting room earlier, nervously filling out forms with his wife. He put his hand on my shoulder, gave me a big wink and said "people pay a lot of money to feel this good" before being lead away by a nurse. That's when I stopped being nervous and knew I was in for a good time.

Propofol's claim to fame is its role in the death of Michael Jackson. It's really only supposed to be administered intravenously as an anesthesia before surgery, but he was getting the shit pumped into him nightly. Conrad Murray gave it to him like a Mom giving a kid warm milk before bedtime (they even called it his "milk") and as the jury ruled: not cool.

My procedure went quite smoothly, thank you for asking. The moral of the story is: If you need a colonoscopy ask the anesthesiologist to give you the stuff that killed MJ. It almost makes up for the gallons of organ-liquifying laxative you have to drink the day before. Seriously, you shit out things you haven't seen since college.


ROCK 'N' ROLL - Phoebe Jean and the Air Force

I'm in love with Phoebe Jean. Born in the clubs of Baltimore, and raised in New York and Paris, keep your eyes on this girl cause she's about to blow up bigger than Violet Beauregarde.

When I spoke with her she was in the midst of a motorcycle adventure. She stopped to call me from a beach in Maryland, her cell phone service cutting in and out. You know how some people like David Bowie turn everyone across the rainbow on with a label-dissolving sexual energy? Phoebe's got that power. I'm pretty sure I was wet just from our damn phone conversation.

Her sexual identity has been a subject of obsession and is often brought up in interviews. When I broached the subject Phoebe replied "All I can really say is that I'm sexual. I fall in love with beautiful, wonderful, genius, kind-hearted, honest people and that can be really anyone, depending. But most of all I just want to be surprised, I just want to find beautiful moments to share with people. Intimacy can be anything from holding hands to straight up fucking."

Phoebe Jean's debut album Heartbreakers defies labels as much as her sexuality. It sounds hip-hop, it sounds club, it feels intimate yet punk at the same damn time. "I perform all kinds of music, says Phoebe. "Sad music, happy music, slow, everything. I've been performing a lot lately and noticed the shows where people are dancing feels more energized, so I've been turning away from the emotional sad stuff. It makes me drained. I want to raise energy, not lower it."


Speaking of dancing, New York -- step it up. The word on the street is the audience was lackluster at her last New York performance, the show was early and people appeared too self conscious to dance. Come on guys, we can't do that again. I REALLY WANT HER TO LIKE US!

I asked Phoebe if she was a heartbreaker herself. "I've been accused of being one," she admitted. "It's been said but in the end I think that gets glamorized, it's all really just a defense mechanism, fear of love, fear of commitment, fear of a flame burning less."

Watch the video for the first single off Heartbreakers "Day is Gone" and fall in love with Phoebe Jean yourself.

And for even more, download "Day Is Gone" HERE.


 Previously: Sex, Drugs, and Rock 'N' Roll - Sexual Flavors and Candy Tripping