Things that make you go Mmm: The Wink

So, I was talking to my friend Nuggets the other day (no, that’s not her real name) and we were talking about a situation in which I found myself internally saying Mmm.

I love talking to my friends about things, because they know me well enough, and share enough of my idiosyncrasies that we can communicate in a series of unfinished sentences, looks and unintelligible noises. So… here’s how the conversation went:

Me: okay so…

Nuggets: mm-hmmmmm

Me: I ordered a drink, and, I was just kinda watching the bartender make it.

Nuggets: You do like to watch

Me: So.. he’s making the drink, and I just cant stop myself from watching him, and…

Nuggets: ooohhhhh

Me: He catches me

Nuggets: Yup

Me: But then, he just looks up, kinda smiles… then winks



Nuggets: GIRL!

Me:… yeah.

Nuggets: Mmm

Me: Exactly!


Winks are an important staple in nonverbal communication. But lest you think I get the water works every time one eye blinks, let me explain.

There are many different kind of winks.

There’s the:

“Lets keep this between us” wink

“If you catch my drift” wink

“Cocky” wink

“This wasn’t thought through” wink

and sadly… the “just…no” wink

I’m not talking about any of these.

Sometimes, winks can come with accessories… like:

a point

a nod

a gun

and even, a thumb’s up

I’m not talking about any of these either.

No, what I’m talking about, is that ever elusive, perfectly executed wink. This will mean different things to different people. Maybe your perfect wink is one of the ones mentioned above. Maybe it’s something else. But for me, a perfectly executed wink is as such:

  • First of all, it’s quick. Nothing against slow, tortuous winks, but my perfect wink is just quick enough to make you wonder if you imagined it. Maybe the person just blinked and you were only focused on one of their eyes, who knows?!
  • The eyes should always start somewhere else. It’s like the person has been aware of your presence the entire time, but at that moment, when they knew you’d be watching, they lock eyes with you and deliver a shock to your system.
  • It is also almost ALWAYS accompanied by a fraction of a smile. Now, the smile is not an accessory. It’s more like a companion of the wink. The smile can come before, it can come after, or it can last the duration, but it’s never a full on smile, in fact, it’s no more than .5 of a smile.
  • And lastly, other than the smile, NOTHING else moves.

It’s like its own brand of telepathy. The reason it’s so sexy is because for that split second, your entire surrounding slows to a dead halt, and there’s nothing but you and this other person conveying a thought on a frequency high above the chaos of the world around you. It can be any thought… it can be as simple as “hey there”, but no matter what it is, for that one moment, it was for you only… and that is sexy.


….. RIGHT?!

Things that make you go Mmm

Since I seem to be in perpetual Slut Mode, I’ve been getting into conversations with my gfs about things that I find sexy. In these conversations, we’ve come to realize that much of what we find sexy has a lot less to do with physical attributes, than it does with the feelings that are elicited within us. I believe this is because for most women, arousal is 80% mental and 20% physical.

Sure, we like a tight body and a pretty face as much as the next man, however, a mindfuck goes a long way towards… well, an actual fuck.

I’ve noticed that whilst in the throes of Slut Mode, things that happen, things that are said, things that are seen, will very likely get the same initial reaction from me.


Like most women, I’m quite complex, so there are several variations to that one tiny little sound. It could range from “oh, that’s quite nice” to “in my mind, you’re already in my mouth” … and everything in between.

If at some point, I don’t actually get my brain to connect with the letter M , and make more like a caveman grunt, you should run fast… and run far.

About a month ago, I posted a status that said:

The things I find sexy could fill a book. A very weird… Very hot book.

Several people on my friend’s list said “we’d love to read that.” soooo, what I thought would be fun, is if I start posting things I find sexy… because clearly I’m an important person, and everyone wants to hear my piddly ass opinions.

Actually, what I want more than anything, is to let every man, woman, and child know that they’re not as weird as they think they are. I want everyone to know that we’re all a little screwed up, and you’re not alone in a lot of your… we’re just gonna call’m quirks.

So… scroll through my category and enjoy!

MUAH! **no tongue**

Slut Mode

My friends, in their infinite wisdom are always giving me suggestions about my life. Lately, I’ve been hearing that I should blog more. More than one friend has told me I should work for Buzzfeed.

I think they’re absolutely right! I LOVE Buzzfeed, and I’m all kinds of hilarious and creative. Yeah, let’s make that happen! But how?

Well, it is 11:14pm on a Thursday night, and I absolutely ABHOR applications, so my approach is to kill two birds with one stone. I will begin blogging more, A LOT more. Like, so much more it’ll cut into my very important regimen of scrolling through my Dish Network guide saying “Ooh Gladiator!… AHHHH, it’s that boxing one!”

I shall do this in the hopes that someone at Buzzfeed (or an equal medium of time eroding videos and quizzes) will say “Hey, your opinion matters more than most people’s, and we would like to pay you to share them, whilst working from home in your underwear”!

You might be wondering what all of this has to do with the title Slut Mode, and many of you are already beginning to feel as though you’ve been trolled. Not to worry… Send in the Sluts!

For my first foray into full-on blogdom, I’d like to start with an ongoing conversation that my girlfriends and I have been having for about… all our lives.

Friday morning, I received this text from my good friend Beaker (Nope, that’s not her real name)


Of course, I chuckled at this, but after the truth of it sank into my brain, I could only text her back a simple…


Let me preface everything that comes after by saying, please don’t come at me with some feminist insanity, or political correctness bullshit. Seriously.

I do not use the word slut to describe any person, or group of people. For the purposes of this post, Slut, and all of its variations are used to describe a state of being, a state of mind and body (mostly body).

Women can be slutty. Men can also be slutty. All manner of races and sexual orientations are slutty. What I’m talking about is nothing negative or derogatory. It is simply, a part of life.

There are times in my life, when I consider myself to be in full-on Slut Mode.  What does this mean? I’m so glad you asked.

You ever wake up in the morning, crack your one eye open and look at your alarm clock? You notice it’s time to get up, so you roll over, and the sheet slowly slides across your body in an unexpected caress? You brush it off, beginning your morning with a stretch. As you extend your arms, you can’t help but notice the arch of your own back, the prominence of your breasts, and the gruff, throaty quality to your waking-up groan. Out of nowhere, you run your fingers through your own hair, grabbing a fistful in the process.

For a moment, you lie there, mildly confused. You sit up, swinging your legs over the side, and your toes hit the carpet. You glance down at your feet. Have your arches always been so curvy? In contemplation, your tongue peeks out and runs across your lip, before you slowly tuck it inside your mouth and gently bite.

Congratulations, you just woke up on the slutty side of the bed.

You don’t know how long it will last, you don’t know what caused it. You only know that there isn’t much that you’ll encounter that won’t turn you on, and the mental list you keep of people you’d like to sleep with will have tripled by the time you’ve gotten to lunch.

Again, Slut Mode isn’t an assault on your character. It’s more of a sexy version of bloodlust. You have an overwhelming desire for sex and depravities you can hardly forgive yourself for dreaming up. From your first contact with the outside world, you feel as though you’re being targeted by a pheromone air strike! I mean, honestly, like your loins are a part of operation clean sweep! Some of it just doesn’t even make sense!

You walk out to your car, and you see your neighbor tamping down bags of trash into an already overflowing trashcan, and all you can think is “yeah….. stuff that shit in there… stuff it all in…”  Before you can even become disgusted with yourself, You find yourself mentally barking at the hot guy jogging with his jack russell… and you’re pretty sure the dog heard you.

You jump in the car, telling yourself to get a grip, then all you can picture is Vin Diesel gripping the steering wheel while you’re straddling him in an empty parking garage.

Suddenly, the world, this world you’ve lived in all your life, has, without warning, been filled with sexy people. I’m telling you, they’re EVERYWHERE! And, the cruelest trick of all, you will begin to notice little things about people you’ve seen every day. Did Jim always have that tattoo? I never noticed how round Elena’s ass is!

Slut Mode is like walking into a buffet, and you are STARVING. You think “Oh I’ll have one of those…aaand one of those, ooh chocolate, I’ll take two!”

Slut Mode is the body’s Catholic Recitation. “I’d like to have sex with you… and also with you.”

It doesn’t mean you’re promiscuous… it just means you WANT to be.

For most women, Slut Mode only comes(giggity) at the WORST time – slap bang in the midst of their period! Can nature play a crueler trick? here you are, probably feeling the most disgusting you ever feel, and all you want is for someone to fuck your brains out!

But, sometimes, Slut Mode waits for no uterus! Sometimes it hits you right out of the blue and you just have to… er… ride it out. Me personally, I don’t often encounter a day were I simply do NOT want to have sex at all. Just… doesn’t happen. However, it can be equally despairing to be so horny that you are affected by every glance, every touch, and even inanimate objects. I mean, I can’t be the only one that has fondled my gear shifter for an obscene amount of time at a red light.

What’s worse, is when it seems like no amount of sex (singular or plural) will curb your appetite.

I’m here to tell you… all of you who are (or will be) afflicted: It’s okay. I sympathize, empathize, and there’s nothing wrong with you. You can’t help how you feel, you can only control what you do. So, please, use what little blood you can divert to get up into your brain. People in your view may NOT be as sexy as they appear. That guy in the suped up pickup with the 50″ tires is very likely a douchebag. Getting back together with your ex is almost ALWAYS a bad idea.

There is a high potential for regret if you let Slut Mode run willy nilly over your life. So, charge up those batteries, and if worse comes to worst (or best, depending) Always practice safe sex! As my friends and I like to say…

We Do Slut The Right Way!

A game for my ladies…

Alrighty, to all my ladies!  I wanna play a game.

I often talk to my gfs about things we find sexy… and usually we’re on the same page about things.  It amazes me how many times we as women, are turned on by things that (without the context we give it) are, in actuality, not sexual.

So, here’s the game… comment with something from a movie/tv show/song, whatever, that turned/turns you on, and why.

There is just one rule, it can’t be anything involving sex or nudity.  (i.e. “When ______ took his shirt off in ____”… that doesn’t count.)

As an example, I’ll start with an easy one.

Oh yeah… Hotness… but let me tell you why…

While this is a great speech… the only part I truly need, is from 0:55 – 1:06.

First of all, something you should know about me.  I have always, for as long as I can remember, had a weak spot in my knees (and other areas) for “wet white boy”… don’t ask me why, I just do.  So when the helmet comes off… BOOM! Wet Russell Crowe.  He’s fully dressed, not performing in any kind of sexual act, yet, 6 simple words had me like:

“Oh sweet mystery of life, at last I’ve found yooooou!”

I included the whole clip, because of all the factors that come into play to making this such a turn on.  We all know what happened in the movie, so when finally coming face to face with the emperor, Maximus wants nothing more than to kill him.  He stalls momentarily, because of the presence of the young boy… but… he’s still thinking about it.  In the end, he doesn’t want to do anything that will harm the child.  However, there’s just so much a man can take, so… when that snotty little shit has the nerve to command him to turn around and tell him his name, he’s like…

“okay… you asked for it, you got it… Toyota.”

He gave his FULL name…. in LATIN… knowing that it would probably mean his immediate death.  But, guess what? He didn’t care.  He went on not only a full blown rant, but with a promise.  He said all the things everyone else was afraid to say, and he meant every word.  not even death was gonna stop him from doing what needed to be done, and THAT is what makes this the sexiest scene in this entire movie to me.

And did you see Lucilla at 1:09… made her come up out of her SEAT! I feel ya, girl.

Okay, your turn :D


A modest rant

I’ve always had a problem with downplaying my talents. Ever since I was little, I always hated braggarts (I even hate that word, sounds like I’m a pirate or something!) I hate people that think they are God’s gift… cuz, if you believe in that sort of thing… aren’t we all?

I hate people that are all “ooh look at meeee, I’m soooo wonderful!”

So I’ve always tried not to be that kind of person, lest I be taken for an asshole. Unfortunately, I’ve always gone in the complete opposite direction, and been entirely too modest. Any compliment I received was always met with a shy smile and some mumbled half thanks, half apology.


I’ve learned that modesty (like most things in life) is not black and white. And there are always degrees. I can be confident in my skills and talents, without thinking I’m better than everyone (or anyone). I’ve learned that it’s okay to say “I did an awesome job.” or to toot my own horn about something that I’m not only passionate about, but worked very hard at.

When people used to ask me about my book(s), I would always mumble out a “well, hopefully people will like it” or something similar.

Now, I can hold my head up and proudly say, “Yeah, I’m really proud of them, they’re very good!” and not feel douchey in the least. Why?


I’m supposed to think they’re good! I’m supposed to think they’re fantastic, otherwise, why would I put out something that’s just “eh”… I mean, who does that?!

I SHOULD think they’re awesome, I only spent four years of my life writing them. I’m not going to apologize or feel bad for following my dream, and doing something that grabbed ahold of my soul and makes me smile every time I think of this huge accomplishment.

I’ve had people ask me “Oh you’ve written books. Are you any good?”

Listen to me, everyone… no matter what it is you do for a living, for a hobby, for life… There is only ONE correct answer to that question. And, it is not “Well… I think so.”

Fuck that.

If you’re doing something you absolutely love, and you don’t think in the deepest recesses of your soul that you’re great at it… stop doing it IMMEDIATELY!

Now, what I’m talking about here is not the modest you, the you that is comparing yourself to everyone else out there who is doing it. I’m not talking to the you that thinks you’ll never be on a bestsellers list, or in a famous gallery or winning grammys.

No no, cuz honestly, all that is bullshit. I’m sorry, but it is. Would I love to be a bestselling author? Of course! In any society, there are bars of standards set, and every person deep down inside wants to reach those heights.

In all honesty though, it’s bullshit. With enough money, with enough people lobbying for you, you can make it to any of those heights, whether you deserve to be there or not.

Would you rather the whole world be talking about you, or would you rather be spoken of with admiration?

Those two are not mutually exclusive.

I’m talking to the person who is making something, creating something. I’m talking to the person who can’t go to sleep because their project isn’t finished, the person who is so excited that they can’t do anything else, because of what is in them bursting to get out.

THAT person, who loves what it is their doing… there’s no way you can tell me, you don’t think you’re great at it.

Validation IS great… but it’s not what makes you great.

If a tree falls in a forest, but no one is around to hear it…

stop worrying about whether or not it makes a sound. Focus on the fact that even if no one hears it, it’s still a tree.

Whether you ever get recognized or awarded, you’re every bit a writer, painter, singer, musician as anyone else. A work of art can come from kings and vagabonds alike. So yes, you ARE great!

Never let anyone tell you different.

Especially you.

Kindred Spirits by May Torres

I was a little hesitant about reading Kindred Spirits, because I’m not much for certain aspects of the horror genre.  But, knowing May Torres, I trusted that she would let me know which pages I might want to skip.

She did not.

What is worse, she managed to pack every bit of all the things that make me squirm into 168 pages.  That being said, I’m very glad I read it!

Kindred spirits is a collection of short stories that actually connect with one another in an amazing way.  One thing that makes it the most frightening, is most of the horrible things that happen, occur in quiet suburban neighborhoods.  I KNOW RIGHT! You will never look at your neighbors the same again, I guarantee you.

The writing is fast paced and easy to follow.  The brilliance comes through with how each story is connected.  Characters you thought were good, you find out that they’re maybe not so good, and vice versa.  The great thing is, everyone is flawed in some way, so the lines get blurred a lot throughout the book.

There’s every type of horror you can imagine.  There’s psychological horror, paranormal horror, and just plain old somebody-turn-the-lights-on scares.  There’s even the possibility for May Torres to continue this into a series, and I hope she does because something like this could be the next season of American Horror Story, or even have its own series.  I’d totally watch Kindred Spirits on HBO! (or Starz or FX)

If you haven’t gotten your copy yet, please visit immediately! It’s available in paperback and on the Kindle (and coming soon to the Nook)