Swearing and Sweet-Talk: Bed, Blankets And Beyond

I don’t usually like to post quizzes or “top ten” lists, but I was speaking to someone the other day who asked me some really fabulous questions. I’d like to repost them for you now (credit for list goes to Mandy):

What’s on your bed?
Blankets or comforter?
What side of the bed do you prefer?
Do you sleep on your side, on your back, or on your stomach?
Pajamas, underwear/t-shirt, or in the buff?

These things are all of high importance in maintaining a healthy relationship. Sex is only the beginning of bedroom activities.

I’ve always been a big bed person. It probably all goes back to my room growing up. In my room, I had only one other area where it was possible to sit: on a chair. Unfortunately, my chair also served as the default clothes hamper; so if you had hopes of doing anything off your feet, it was the bed or the floor. As a result, I became meticulous about the state of my bed. It’s weird, I know. It continues to this day: when you walk into my place, everything else might be a wreck, but the bed is always made.

I’m a strong believer in blankets, comforters and a whole lot of pillows. Men, I’m going to let you in a little secret that we as a gender seem to be behind the ball on: pillows are fantastic—and I ain’t talking about for sleeping on. A little imagination and bunch of pillows will do wonders for your bedroom performances. Maybe that’s a topic for another blog…provided I can track down some of those karma sutra pictures to help illustrate.

The girls who own 40,000 stuffed animals are really pretty scary. Not only can they be a literal pain in the ass, it’s this whole factor of 80,000 eyes watching you. If I wanted to have sex in public, I’d be running website instead of a blog. Hey, I own a webcam!

A bit of a side-note illustrating how I’m not really a “stuffed animal” guy. Back in college, my roommate and I were browsing through an antiques store when we happened on a dead, stuffed fox. We were considering it as an impulse buy. I mean, I figured it’d be a cool conversation piece. My roommate turned to me and said, “What do you think?” I paused and finally said, “You know, as cool as that thing is now, it’s probably going to be a whole other story when you wake up in the middle of the night and think it’s looking at you.” That sealed the deal. The money was spent on beer instead.

I once had to spend the night in the same room as a ventriloquist dummy. I swear, every time I woke up, that thing was a little closer to my bed.

Aside from actual bed comfort, there are a whole lot of other intangibles that come into play when trying to share a sleeping space. It all reminds me of a sweaty, ill-conceived, incredibly complex game of Tetris. Just when you think you’ve finally positioned your arm under her, you get an itch, or you have to go to the bathroom, or one of you is slightly warmer than the other and you get pools of sweat forming between you.

I’ve been told (unsolicited, I might add) from a number of women that I’m a good cuddler. The line I like to use is that I was a pro for the Olympic team—until I was banned for using performance-enhancing drugs.

What to wear is another key element. Generally, I’m a pajama guy…in fact, I had an amazing pair of flannel cowboy p.j.s that absolutely killed with the ladies back in college. But when there’s company, I don’t like to make my guests feel under-dressed, so I opt for boxers or nothing. Of course, I believe in promoting easy-access (I suspect that’s why so many girls love the kilt). There’s nothing better than a girl who know how to wake you up right.

Then again, I had no idea that morning foreplay could be such a challenge, until I started seeing a certain girl. I guess morning sex was hugely important on her list of needs. Hey, generally I wouldn't complain, but she had no idea how to actually go about getting it when I was asleep. Girls, I’m going to let you in on how not to get morning sex:

I was dreaming about fighting crime on the streets of Hong-Kong with an elite vigilante group, when suddenly my opponents became a whole lot more physical…in fact they started landing punches. I finally realized that the foot to my sternum was not part of my dream-world.

“Hzzz? Huh? Wha?” I stammered, in my usually coherent and insightful manner of speaking.

“GET UP! I NEED SEX!!!”

“Then haul your ass to the curb. I'm sure you can find someone with 15 bucks and a backseat!”