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{wetter is better} Single Ladies Love Lube Too (sung to the tune of “Naughty Girls Need Love Too”)

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{wetter is better} Single Ladies Love Lube Too (sung to the tune of “Naughty Girls Need Love Too”)


This post brought to you by Astroglide… and probably TMI.

When two people move in together (or start sleeping together), there is a MESS of randomly-sized condoms, lubes and lotions, things that make you tingle weirdly, things that are flavored (yuck)… found in one another’s sex drawers (oh c’mon, you ALL have one). Let me tell you how AWKWARD it is going through items that your now-significant other (or lover) has used with/on/in someone else. *puke* Even if I’m stealing those cute hair clips that some former “friend” left behind.

One thing I refuse to toss is my Astro Glide.

Look, I’ve been to enough sex toy parties and porn stores to realize what cheesy products are out there (who the hell wants their vag to smell like a Pina Colada anyway?! I also call total bullshit on anything that resembles the scent of MUSK in a toy shop). And, let’s be frank, spending most of my adult life as a single-something, I know what my body likes. And emphatically, what it does not. I prefer the original because it feels most natural, is water-based, and doesn’t make me smell like I need to be topped off with a salted glass, ice and a pink umbrella.

Wait… that sounds totally weird, doesn’t it? But seriously, BUY me a drink first; don’t make me taste like one!

PS: Astroglide has a new product — called Astroglide Natural, appropriately enough — that is made with botanical ingredients: aloe, chamomile extract and vitamins C & E. I haven’t experienced any side effects by the un-natural products, but it’s good to know there’s a wide range of products for those especially sensitive body parts that have the same non-sticky qualities. But please… don’t forget the penis!

Plus, Astroglide’s lube is the leading brand recommended by doctors, practitioners and OB/GYNs — so seriously, start talking honestly with your doc about sex already!

Hi, lube! Get in my sexy time drawer.

Using lubricants is not about necessity (although sometimes it just IS necessary, Mr. I-Can-Go-For-Two-Hours); it’s about FUN. Astroglide adds another element to your intimate play. And frankly, it just makes sex better.

P.P.S. I’m especially geeked to discover Astroglide’s X product, which is useable for water playtime. This premium Silicone-based personal lubricant is made with ingredients found to act as skin conditioners. Hello, let’s get moving on that hot tub install, boyfriend!

FREE SAMPLES:
Want to test the awesome-ness that is sex with lube? Sorry, I am not available. Astroglide is giving away free samples. Get on that. Then get on THAT. If you know what I mean.

P.P.S.S. Use a condom. Astroglide products are all water-based, which is condom friendly.

Disclaimer: this post brought to you by monthly sponsor, Astroglide. I received compensation in exchange for writing about this product. Please read my disclaimer page and disclosure policy for more info.

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First! I’m having a lot of ‘em in this city.

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First things first, enter my November giveaway for a $75 gift certificate towards your purchase at one of the awesome sites within CSN Stores.

This post AKA: football and ridiculous shoe choices.

A couple of weeks ago, we participated in our first Steelers tailgate since the move.

I only go for the party.

And to laugh and roll my eyes at girls who wear leggings-are-not-pants and five-inch heels to a parking lot filled with misogynist drunks and a steady stream of beer puddles. Go on with your bad-ass self (and your nice ass).

Anyways, I enjoy that the cops are friendly enough to engage with the crowds and encourage fans to have fun (by also being responsible… and perhaps welcoming kids and hootchies alike to pose on cop motorcycles). Nobody was overwhelmingly annoying, and when you’re slightly sober, everyone is hilarious: saw plenty o’ people peeing publicly, which is a given. Hard core make-out session too, with a bunch of hootin’ and hollerin’ voyeurs to boot. One of the BEST tailgate bars my eyes have ever seen — this guy had a full bar, with beer taps, a spinning shot machine, a stage for beer races and a keg stand and full set of speakers. That guy was awesome (and he definitely knows it).

Also: red cups not required.

Original Submarine? No. Original TAILGATER.

Original Submarine? No. Original TAILGATER.

After the game (why do so many of my sentences begin with “A”?), we had snacks at Bettis’ — it’s nice this place is located on the river, but the game delay from the stadium to the ghetto-rigged patio TVs became annoying.

Only one thing more annoying than that: my shoes sticking to the ground of the next bar we went to.

Or the line for the bathroom, with a massive quantity of girls who didn’t (drunkly) understand.

Or the additional hoochies dancing all Coyote Ugly-like on the bar. *groan*

While I’m not too old for tailgating, this shit? So over it.

We watched the rest of the game at Sharp Edge downtown — and at just the right moment to be awarded an 86-cent draft when Ward scored a touchdown… wee!

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Thank Josh Groban, No Sweetest Day.

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Independent survey results show: ‘Burghers do not celebrate Sweetest Day (including one, “What the frick is Sweetest Day?” Best answer I could receive).

Hopefully these needless card company-created holidays — apparently designed for Ohio and popular for Chicago residents, which is technically a bunch of ex-pat Ohioans anyway — will not cross outside the state border to its east.

East. It’s so freaking weird living east of from where I lived my entire life. I still haven’t quite adjusted to that.

Moving on. AB’s birthday is already competing with this — and Halloween — so I’d rather just select one occasion, celebrate with some beers and maybe a can of whipped cream, and call it a weekend. But I will not let him win at drunk Scrabble.

Most lovey-dovey holiday moments are lame — up to, and including Valentine’s Day, kisses at midnight on New Year’s Eve, monthly anniversaries and spending Thanksgiving with the in-laws pretending ONCE AGAIN to like beets… AND sweet potatoes. And seriously, the Day of Sweets really only meant something if all the cheerleaders in the school and the guy you were taking to Homecoming sent you a Cookie Gram to homeroom, for you to show off like some sort of Pride of Ashtabula High School award. That glitters. And has bubble letters. *puke*

The DATE means absolutely nothing — well, it SHOULD not — to grown adults. And for shame on those who even EXPECT something to be bought/gifted/or shown off to co-workers on that day. If we NEED to absolutely celebrate romanticism (and all of your stupid baby talk), why not choose a completely arbitrary date and go balls out? Oh, there’s an event for that? But you will never take away the St. Patrick’s Day party from these two Irish drunks!

Better yet, use Sweetest Day for its intended meaning — to genuinely spread a little love or joy to those NOT so fortunate.

Like, your single friends.

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For those still curious (‘Burghers and otherwise), or whom need to feel enlightened on the origins of Sweetest Day and all its inanity, there’s this info.

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Exploring Pittsburgh in my blue shoes!

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I already had a friend who lives in Pittsburgh, prior to my moving here. I can’t tell you how nice it is having someone to recommend random places for services that I need or restaurants and bars in which to get drunk (classily, of course). Without being all strange-eyed, wondering why I’m asking if Pittsburgh has anything that resembles a penis.

So, we had a little girls night on Tuesday. She drove me around a few different neighborhoods, to get a small taste of where some things are located (including the dreaded DMV or whatever the shit they call it in PA). We now have a closer Home Depot (we’ve been driving up to the North Hills), a Whole Foods AND Trader Joe’s within an easy drive, another potential Farmer’s Market, a soon-to-exist Target, Vanilla Pastry Studio (must go back for the Pop-Tarts), cute creperie (yay, brunch!) called Paris 66. And a retro bowling alley. Must. Go.

And Pavement. Remember that whole idea about it probably being a good idea to find some new work? When it comes to this store, I will need a third job. Kill me now, boot season. Kill. Me. Now.

In any event, this was my GNO outfit for the night:

For the love of hair: I still despise mine, and I am actively looking for recommendations, please! I know I want color, but a good haircut would probably do me some good as well. I don’t want to completely chop it, but something more interesting. I feel… boring.

Seeing as how we were having delicious noms at the newly-open Salt of the Earth, the waist-cinching belt was probably not the best idea. Regardless, I got through four courses OK. You MUST go to Salt (and follow their delicious menu pictures on twitter), by the way, if you consider yourself a “foodie.” This restaurant is even better than most that exist in Cleveland — and we had a pretty solid foodie scene there. I’m even going so far as to say my entire meal was better than my best meal at my favorite restaurant in Cleveland. (And yes, that is a covert message, so bite me). I had the tomatoes and watermelon (omg, the hot pepper rings in this app are HOT, fyi), chicken livers and grits, pork belly (with an amazing pretzel polenta) and the parfait dessert — which was definitely one of the strangest desserts I’ve ever had, but every taste was something different, so I approve!

It was fun to have a spirited (and gossipy) night out. I don’t usually go out without the boyfriend because I enjoy his company so darn much, but since he was traveling so much before the move, I had to occupy myself with dinners with friends (you know, the whole not cooking for myself thing). And while I’m certain I will be back to Salt with AB, he would definitely pass on exploring cupcake shops and… *gasp* the location of Anthropologie.

Gulp.

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What I wear to look hot. AKA: when it’s 90 degrees

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Check out this uber-cute black dress from China. I apparently only have luck finding the missing pieces of my wardrobe from online shops abroad. I mean, seriously, do you know how hard it was to find an ALL BLACK and ALL COTTON tank dress that didn’t cost three months of unemployment?
photo-dress

Plus, I am a SUCKER for dresses with pockets. This is total love on a hanger right here.

Paired with a long, cotton white tank and Franco Sarto sandals. The necklace is from Brigade, from AB for one of my birthday presents (LOVE that it has a “9″ to match the date).

Also of note, my pedicure with OPI’s Jade is the New Black. Take a long, hard look because the likelihood of this lasting past Wednesday is nil. Nail polish tends to melt my polish once inside my roller skates. Weird. On my road trip to South Bend this weekend, my friend and I went into one of those Asian Mall nail places in Mishawaka (I didn’t look that up, so Spelling Gods, I curse you). I brought champagne in a can, with a straw, so we were prepared for the hilarity. Plus, I didn’t notice until the pedicurist removed my OLD polish, but I have a GIGANTIC bruise on my right big toe. It’s likely to last only a few more weeks.

I know, sexy. BUT LOOK AT HOW AWESOME MY LEGS LOOK! Even without a tan!

Who lost 4 percent body fat in one month? This sexy broad.

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