A while back I wrote a piece entitled, “What Women Want” and had the aid of three lovely and very talented ladies to help me figure out just what that was.
Now however, I figured it was the men’s turn to share their thoughts and spill their guts, hence this piece.
There were three totally radical dudes (listed below) who actually answered my questions, can you believe it, I’m as happy as I was the day I discovered masturbation.
(Color coded so you know who answered what)
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1. Which do you prefer, a woman who can hang with the boys, or a total priss who is out getting her nails done while you’re a home watching the game?
Richard: Okay, by hanging out do you mean screwing around with them, literally, or simply a great looking female that everyone wishes they could have? I’ve never been one to entertain the pass around pack concept (too many chances of catching something you can’t get rid of). I do have to say I like one that can hold her own in a conversation and not be afraid to try new things.
Prissy bitches drive me crazy, although the thought of solo time does appeal to me. The only problem with the “Priss” being absent is that there’s no one to go to the fridge for me. Being the lazy bastard I am, that is something that is almost too horrible to even imagine. Remember, in the South, a primary phrase of all men is, “Go git me ‘nother beer, bitch!” (Don’t tell my wife I said that. She’d kill me!)
Gary: Woman who can hang with the boys for me – that is, as long as she’s not seeking to get laid by all of them, at least not all at the same time! My lady enthuses about football (soccer) as much as I do, and can swill down pints of cold lager at a rate that would match that of many male boozers.
Phil: Hang with the boys! As long as she is also not banging them or participating in a circle jerk with them. No one likes a priss anyway.
2. The three Bs, belching, beer and boobs, put them in order of importance?
Richard: Boobs, Boobs, Boobs, belching, and beer and more boobs. I really don’t drink.
Gary: My order of preference would be: 1st boobs, 2nd beer, and 3rd belching. The typical, real-life sequence, however, tends to be different: Beer drinking (makes us randy), so passion and boob-kneading follows, and then (at the height of passion) I release a stale, hoppy belch into her ear. My wife’s a very lucky lady!
Phil: Boobs, beer, belching. Boobs rule above all.
3. The age old question, Ginger or Mary Ann?
Richard: No question … Mary Ann! I can’t see Ginger ever getting up to get anyone a beer from the fridge. Mary Ann had so much energy she’d find a way to fit the fridge in the living room next to my recliner, and still make wild and passionate love for hours before ever getting up to fix a fantastic dinner while I took a nap. I sometimes wonder if those two weren’t lesbians, though. They were always hanging out together and never really got it on with any of the male castaways. Then again, would you screw Gilligan?
Gary: Mary Ann for me. Not keen on ginger-haired girls (although did go through a phase in my late teens when I had an unwholesome desire to get acquainted with ginger pubic hair – come to think of it, that could be a topic for my next blog post). Also, I tend to prefer the more homely ladies than the flamboyant types.
Phil: Mary Ann. She always looked like a closet freak who dressed like a slutty country schoolgirl. Though, with Ginger I would like to know if the carpet matched the drapes.
4. Forget the chicken, what came (huh huh) first, the penis or the egg?
Richard: Definitely the penis. There would never have been an egg without foreplay. Sex is no good unless both parties work each other into a foreplay frenzy. (You know, when grandpa’s ashes get knocked off the table and you don’t even realize you’re rolling around in them!) So, imagine two eggs attempting foreplay. Even hard boiled, they simply couldn’t achieve any type of satisfaction. Yolks simply don’t stimulate, and egg whites stick more than slide. Yep, definitely the penis!
Gary: This question is far too philosophical for my simple mind. If pushed, my diplomatic response would be that they came at the same time – which is, of course, always the best way!
Phil: The penis I guess. Then the egg which I would fry up with some bacon afterwards. Post orgasm hunger.
5. A woman who farts, funny and sexy, or nasty and a complete turnoff?
Richard: It all depends on where my face is when it happens. Remember, for every action there is a reaction … bitch!
Gary: It might surprise a few people to hear that I do not like to hear women fart. Surely such wonderful creations shouldn’t emit noxious gas, nor shit for that matter – for many years I was in denial and would not accept that women expelled putrid faeces; I, instead, believed that waste materials evaporated from the top of their heads and smelt like hairspray!
The lady (and I use the term loosely), who has been my partner for the last 33 years, farts like a hairy biker whose lifetime diet has consisted solely of gulping down a combination of boiled cabbage, baked beans, Brussels sprouts and lamb vindaloo. In contrast, I never fart in front of her. You see, contrary to popular opinion, I am a gentleman!
Phil: If in a new relationship, a turnoff. If in a long established relationship sometimes funny. Sexy? No.
6. In the sheets, do you like to be the one who gets the party started, or do you prefer the woman do be the aggressor?
Richard: Depends on the woman. If it’s someone I really would prefer ignoring, I want to start the party, which will probably be delayed forever. In other words, “Don’t force me to do something I really don’t want to do.” (My wife and I live by that … usually concerning each other.) However, if I’m looking at her as a potential “Hell yes, take me to my wildest desire” type, I love for her to attack. It really helps the camera operator from having to give so many vocal directions.
Gary: A bit of both is best, and keeps the rumpy-pumpy fresh and interesting.
Phil: Depends on the mood. If she jumps on the bed with the ball gag and handcuffs she can be as aggressive as she wants with me!
7. Is it the size of the woman’s breasts that attract you to her, or the size of her mind…now be honest?
Richard: I’m not a big breast guy, even with chicken. For both, I prefer perfect legs. However, if I can’t click mentally with a person, I really don’t get into sex. Okay, so we’re not discussing the state of America’s current political structure while sweating our asses off going at it. But, if I’m going to give effort, I would prefer it be with someone I can communicate with. Otherwise, I might as well get out to old inflatable doll and go at it, or someone from Alabama … say, my wife perhaps. Nawwwww … let’s go with the doll.
Gary: The initial attraction has got to be boob size and other physical attributes – I’m actually drawn more to a fine arse than boobs, although it is a close-run thing. But I couldn’t spend any time with a woman who was dim and incapable of generating an independent thought; that would be a complete turn-off.
Phil: Sorry, what was the question again? I was preoccupied staring at her boobs.
8. Have you ever stuck “it” in the wrong hole?
Richard: Are you familiar with full motion waterbeds? They give you one hell of a valid excuse to do just that, especially if doggy style is on the agenda. If the partner complains, just blame it on the bed and use the motion of the ocean to sail away.
Gary: Yes, late August 1977, while holidaying in southern Spain; I spent most of that autumn with my meat and two veg in a bowl of Dettol disinfectant! But perhaps I’m misinterpreting the question? Is there a wrong hole?
Phil: I can not confirm or deny this.
9. Are you one of those guys who make women think all men are pigs, or a guy who makes them realize that chivalry isn’t dead?
Richard: I personally hate the way most men act. (Tells you I’m not gay, doesn’t it?) Seriously, when meeting a woman for the first time, I take her hand and do a half bow as I raise it up some, about a foot short of where you’d complete the old, classic act of kissing it. I open all doors for the female, and do my best to treat her with the highest respect. I even force my eyes to look into hers instead of allowing the eye magnets to be drawn to the attracting boobs. It has always helped me show them that all men aren’t uneducated boner boys slobbering with thoughts of unrestricted lust. (Yeah, I lied to get a laugh in the earlier questions.) Even during lovemaking, I believe that you’ve got to take care of the partner first, before ever allowing yourself to climax. You don’t know how many games of hitless inning baseball has gone through my mind achieving that standard.
Gary: Definitely the latter (I refer you to my farting etiquette, described above).
Phil: I would hope that I am a knight in shining armor. Brandishing a well endowed sword.
10. Your first time, how bad was it?
Richard: Terrible. You gotta remember, pubic shaving wasn’t the thing back in the early 70’s. Having no idea as to what to expect in the “feeling” arena, I went full blast to hurry things up before her parents got up and came to the back porch to see why we were out there so long. After it was over, she told me I’d missed her completely. The next time, I was able to tell the difference between what pubic hair and the real thing felt like. Much better, I must say.
Gary: “I want you.”
“I want you too.”
“I need you inside of me.”
“I’m aching for you; give it to me now.”
“OK, here goes. Do you like that?”
“No, you’re not in.”
“Well where am I then; I’m rubbing against something?”
“You’re too high up; you’re hitting the bone.”
“OK, I’ll try a bit lower then.”
“Sorry, is it hurting?” (thinking, wow I must have a big one)
“No, you’re pushing at the wrong hole.”
“Oh sorry; shall we try again later?”
“I think I’ve gone a bit … floppy.”
Phil: We were drunk and broke into a model home. Was kind of funny when we woke up the next day and the real estate agent was showing off the house!
11. Gay guys, do you run from them as if they were walkers and you were in The Walking Dead, or perfectly cool with hanging out with them and being their wingman while they pick up dudes?
Richard: I don’t run, but I don’t hang out while they do their shopping either. I had a friend, when I was working with venomous reptiles, that was gay. We’d go out hunting rattlesnakes, cottonmouths, coral snakes and copperheads outside of Atlanta in some really swampy territory. I even wrote the Preface of his book for him. He became one of my best friends. However, we never really talked about sexual preferences. I figured it was his business and his right to be the way he wanted. As with any person, if you’ll simply treat them with the respect you’d expect them to treat you with, you’ll find there’s a lot of great people in the world. Small minded people never find that out.
Gary: I usually enjoy the company of gay men. Often they are extremely witty and good company.
Phil: Totally cool with all my gay friends. I have a bunch and they are a blast to hang with.
12. Boxers or briefs…or commando?
Richard: Briefs. I could never get the damn thing to stay inside of boxers.
Gary: Briefs for me, as I require a firmer hold than boxers are able to provide – in simple terms, I can’t stand my bollocks stumbling out of one of the sides. In my rare impulsive moments I might go commando.
Phil: Bikini. Sometimes a banana hammock if I'm feeling frisky.
13. When you’re sick, is it I am man hear me roar, or nurse please come quick I feel icky?
Richard: Leave my ass alone. Let me suffer, sleep, and get well at my own pace. You’ll know when I’m feeling better as I’ll ask you to go to the fridge and get me a Diet Coke! Actually, when I awoke from having my heart attack, I saw my wife, daughter and son-in-law all grimly looking down at me. Trying to make them smile, my first words were, “What? Are y’all unhappy because I didn’t die?” That joke bombed, but at least I tried to make them smile.
Gary: I regress when I’m sick and hanker after a mummy substitute to tuck me up in bed, stroke my fevered brow and tell me I’m a brave little boy.
Phil: I never get sick. I refuse.
14. Masturbation, an everyday event or a rare occurrence?
Richard: Only if I’m too tired for sex. You gotta keep your woman happy, right? Why should she sit there unhappy just because you’re tired. You just have to put your finger on the marriage obligation and gradually work to please, no matter how long it takes. Just don’t shut off the TV or I might go to sleep before she reaches her “Oh, Damn, Damn, Damn” moment.
Gary: I’ve never really been into self-abuse. It has never appealed to me. I fail to see what the attraction … wait a moment, what’s happening to me … the page has gone all blurred and I’m struggling to read the question … and my right wrist has seized up with what feels like a repetitive strain injury … and my wife is referring to me as Akihito.
Phil: Well, I am typing this with my left hand. The right one is busy at the moment.
15. Looking at other women when your wife/girlfriend is around, okay to look but no long stares and please for God sakes don’t get caught, or look all you want and discuss with your wife/girlfriend about how hot the chick was?
Richard: Okay, you can talk, but you have to do it with class. The typical guy might say, “Hey, look at that steamy, hot, succulant, drippy, gooey, type of a hole walking by in those shorts so tight you could count her pubes if she didn’t shave.” I might say to my wife, “Now there goes a woman that is definitely looking for the right person to notice her. By the way, how are things in camoflauge land these days.”
Gary: I do have a wandering eye, but stop short of long stares which would be disrespectful to both the lady in my eye-line and to my wife; I would not wish to render either one uncomfortable. (Another consideration would be that, if I gawped at another woman, my wife would pummel me when we got home!)
Phil: I look all I want and discuss with my gal about how hot the chick was. She does the same with guys. We have our healthy fantasies!
16. Chick flicks, take on for the team and go see them, or no way in hell you’ll be caught there?
Richard: I refuse to go to the theater these days. Too much of a rip off for what you get. However, I will record chick flicks off of the pay networks for my wife. I find that if I can keep her attention elsewhere, the times I have to mutter “Yes, dear” are minimal, and I can pretty much do as I want while they’re on. Plus, I can pause the damn thing while she goes and gets me a Diet Coke from the fridge!
Gary: I rather like chick flicks. I enjoyed Freaky Friday (but that might be because I have a thing for Jamie Lee Curtis) and I wept watching The Notebook. You see, I do have a feminine side.
Phil: Usually no way in hell. They are boring. Plus, my gal loves action, raunchy comedy, and adventure flicks. I win!
17. Would you hold a woman’s purse while out in public if she asked you to, or is it no thank you drive through?
Richard: Hell yes! Especially if the wife is trying on clothes. It gives me a chance to check out the cash in her wallet and see if she’s holding out on me. I’m still waiting on the day I’ll find hundreds of dollars there. Hooking is grounds for divorce that allow a guy to keep most of his stuff. I’ve been looking and hoping for 34 years and the bitch is still not working the streets. And people wonder why I’m always depressed.
Gary: I’ve been known to hold my wife’s purse and handbag in public (even when I’m not taking money out of either). Also, I have bought her sanitary products in a supermarket. This must mean I’m either a modern man or the hen-pecked variety – come to think of it it’s probably the latter.
Phil: Sure, and I have. Plus, I look in to snag some cash when I need it.
18. Is there anything worse than being hit in the balls?
Richard: Being hit in the balls twice!
Gary: No, but do we expect you women to understand? Of course not. They go on and on about childbirth, but how can a natural bodily function like labor compare to a totally unnatural process like being walloped in the nuts? Kneeling on a Lego brick might come close, but a whack in the bollocks takes first prize in the excruciating pain competition.
Phil: Hitting yourself in the balls. Belt buckles suck!
19. Are you ever too old to fart in the tub?
Richard: I am an old fart in a tub. However, if one must, they can sit there enjoying the way the bubble bath filters the acid smell out of the gas and makes the fart smell like coconuts!
Gary: No, but only when there are no women in the house (see response to question 5). Also, with advancing years, you have to guard against follow-through, otherwise the bath water might resemble a melt down in Willy Wonka’s factory.
Phil: Never. It offers a good laugh.
20. Manscaping, you’re comfortable trimming up the hedges and making thing neat and clean, or no freaking way let that shit grow wild and free?
Richard: Fuck working in the yard. Sweating during leisure time is not my thing. If I can’t hire someone to do the work let the shit grow until the neighbors file a complaint with the city. Then, I’ll complain to the landlord and get them to clean the stuff up. Besides, I’m too damn busy answering well thought out questions like you provide.
Gary: Being hairy never bothered me until my mid-40s when I underwent a transformation. Now I’m always trimming my intimate hedges, which can be a precarious business when using the Power Comb of a Braun Series 5! – my nooks and crevices can appear like the aftermath of the Battle of Rorke's Drift. If I was brave enough I’d consider waxing, the full monty: back, crack and sac – but I’m a coward.
Phil: I always kept my chassis neat and clean. Body hairiness in the nether regions is not really sexy. No one likes to dig through a forest down there with their teeth.
21. If boobs were cars, would you like to drive a smart car, a mid-size car or a monster truck?
Richard: If you do it right during your lifetime, the same person supplies all three. Generally, to attract the male beast, many young females diet ridiculously, which usually gives you a minimal taste. As age comes around, the dieting leaves and children arrive. Boobs tend to get bigger here. Finally, in older age, years of gravity pulling at them cause the boobs to droop like hell, stretching them to the max. Those are the monster truck years.
I’m still trying to figure out why it works exactly opposite on a guy’s super snake. God’s got to be lying back laughing his ass off at that trick! “Kind and loving God … bah, humbug!”
Gary: Somewhere between mid-size and monster would be my ideal, but with less than perfect suspension and handling (excuse the pun). A woman’s boobs should bounce and wobble. A female chassis should not be rigid and unrelenting; the veneer-like, plastic boobs of many porn stars (so I’m told) are a total turn-off.
Phil: Monster truck. AMURRICA BABY!
Well there you have it peeps, what men really want out of chicks and what they think about certain “male-specific” topics, so if you’re ever hoping to get some loving from a dude that doesn’t require a credit card, I would highly recommend you pay attention and deliver the goods.
Also, if you happen to run into any of these dudes wife/girlfriend don’t go dropping dimes on them for what they shared here, because that’s not cool.
Make sure you visit all my fabulous guests (links below their pics) to show them just how much you appreciate them opening up and being honest with you.