Tackling the Kissing Urban myth

DISCLAIMER TO SENSITIVE: go no further if exploring the "who is better at kissing urban myth" easily offends ones sensibilities!

The Wesley Snipes/ Woody Harrelson film stated that White Men Can't Jump, and this might be true but one thing I know is that they sure know how to kiss- boy oh boy!

I might not be an equal opportunity dater quite yet (I am still attempting to open those dating borders), but I am most certainly an equal opportunity kisser. In my 31 years, I have only kissed 7 guys- I was a slow starter so sue me.

Out of the 7 men, 4 of them where white guys, who where definetely the better kissers. My experience thus far has led to the conclusion that so far some (stressing on the some) black guys, who where complete adonis', kissed like over excited puppies- ewwww!

What has baffled me about the snogging sessions that I had with the lucky buggers (yeah I said they where the lucky ones), is that why, oh why where the black guys i kissed either so-so or really bad yet when it came to the white guys all i can say is "wow". My question to you is, is it really a race thing or is it luck of the draw?

I have posed this question to a friend of mine who is a quite the connoisseur of all types of men. I am sure she holds a PhD in sexual satisfaction. As an equal opportunity dater whose experience knows no bounds I knew her answer to to this question would be an interesting one. Her response was that in her experience, black men were better at sex than the white guys and so therefore do not try so hard at the kissing, whilst white men are so-so at the sex but have the kissing hands down. She also added with a smirk, that ugly guys always try harder to please in bed than the pretty boys who expect you to do all the work. So for a good satisfying session one should always go ugly. My response was "oh!"

Another friend added her 10cents by confirming that she agrees that white men are better kissers. She is in her first relationship with a white guy (she has decided to look further a field for some male companionship) and she said she is amazed that his kisses take her to the moon and back. When I asked her about the sex she said "we are working on it".

I conclude that although my best kiss was with a white guy- BTW his kisses made me float into the land of great kisses- I do believe that whoever i fall in love with , it will be my love for him that will make me walk on clouds and give my the butterflies (smile).

On another note let me add as much as I love a good snog (whenver I can get one- blush), I would take Reggie Bush on whether or not he is a good kisser. Who am I kidding, a guy that scrumptious must be able to perform tongue acrobatics that you leaving wanting more (sigh).

My Reggie Bush obsession continues.

LSGS

Plenty of fish in the sea? Well not in my pond!

Whilst sitting on my rather large sofa on Sunday watching the West Wing box set, my mind wandered. The last few weeks I have had a slight heavy heart. This came about following a conversation with a friend who smugly made me realise that the small pool of men that I am currently swimming in is going to getting smaller, and smaller the older I get.

I replayed the conversation in my head as I drooled over Sam (played by Rob Lowe- I swear that man gets hotter the older he gets). That was when I realised that to be able to keep it at reasonable size, I need to open up the borders that I set up 10 years. You see, us women (and some sissy metro sexual men) happily set up borders in our early 20's so as to ensure that undesirable men who do not meet our requirements get an automatic "no" you may not enter.

This opening of dating borders decision was not reached lightly. I must admit that I will not open all my borders, I mean that would just be madness. So what borders am I considering widening? Well I am thinking that my "only black men" rule which I have been abiding too since I entered the dating game could do with a slight widening. Sure, I have once or twice dilly daddled with men who were not black, but I never took it too seriously. I was just whetting my appetite.

To continue, my "only black men" rule is not so much a rule but a preference. I am majorly attracted to the beauty of a black man. It is not so much a race thing, but more to do with what makes me tick, and whenever I am in the company of a handsome black man my clock ticks and tocks, it is just a shame that not many are available in my petite pond- sigh.

So the reality of it is that maybe if I do not limit myself with my preference for only black guys, maybe, just maybe I might find someone to stand still with for a minute. Someone who I would never have picked out for myself 10 years ago.

It is true that he could end up being the handsome black man of my dreams, but then again he could so easily just be a handsome man who loves me warts and all. But let me be clear there is one rule/border that I wont budge on and that is 'the man should be tall' (6ft and over) because Lord knows I refuse to give up my beloved heels for a vertically challenged man, because that will be asking way too much of me, i kid you not!!!


LSGS

Weirdos vs 30 something women everywhere

Why is it that as soon as we enter our 30's the weird men our mothers warned us about come out of the woodworks.

You know the type- the greasy, creepy individuals with bad hygiene. They force themselves into our world as if they believe that just because we are older with loud ticking biological clocks that we will be desperate enough to say "yes" to every ugly male who bestows his attention. I mean come on, I would rather choose the spinisters life thank you very much!

So on that note I say lets band together my 30 something sisters, and say "no, we are not desperate enough to stoop that low (yet)", because Lord knows if another gormless fool with quite a questionable dress sense approaches me with a wink and a smile I will surely loose the last few marbles that survived the cosmo swilling days of my 20's.

LSGS

"I joined match.com, and ended up with my very own stalker!!!"

Tonight, I was having dinner at my friends house. As we ate yummy food, sipped good wine and complained about the hot weather upon us lately my mobile phone rang.

Leaving the room, I looked at the unknown number flashing across my screen. Debating whether i should answer it, i decided "why the hell not". Before i could say hello, i heard creepy heavy breathing on the other side. Taking a firm tone I asked " who is his", to which my caller replied "is this M********?". Deciding not to answer his question I asked again who was calling, to which he responded "its Ali, can i speak to M********?". It was then the penny dropped, how the hell did this guy who i had been speaking to on match.com two weeks ago get my number, because I surely did not give it to him.

I met this Ali character when I was tempted back to match.com by a 3 day free trial. I thought why the hell not, my slow dating life was at the point of non-existence and in need of an emergency revamp. So signing back onto my old profile, i spent Day 1 skimming potential beaus, winking at a few cuties, and blocking those who seemed to possess the Glenn-Close-in-fatal-attraction gene.

Day 2, I started to speak to Ali. He looked cute in his photo and he seemed 'normal-ish'. We emailed back and forth, keeping up a light hearted banter. I met and talked to other guys who never seemed to make the grade. All that being said I was enjoying the attention and loving the compliments.

Day 3, I told Ali my free membership was nearly over and tha I had decided not to continue onto a paid membership. I gave him my email address, and said that when he is next in London, as he lived outside the city, that he should email me and we can maybe meet for a coffee.

Four days after I cancelled my membership, match.com was quickly becoming a fading memory. It was then that I heard from Ali. He sent me an email that was polite and was written in way that confimed that he wanted to court me 18th century style. I responded telling him politely that it was nice to hear from him. He then sent me an email every couple of days. I do not enjoy being spammed, and he was fast loosing his shine. Following two weeks of one sided correspondence I was over him, but he quickly proved he wasn't over me.

So back to the phone call I received tonight. I confirmed to him that he was indeed speaking to M******** , and as i listened to him talk excitedly i wondered how the hell he got hold of my number. Noticing my silence he asked me whether i was wondering how he got my number? I said "yes" and his reponse was "i googled you". Damn that google, how did google get my very private number?

To cut a long story short, I let him talk for 5 mins before ending the call with promises of "yes we will talk again soon". I was scared of this match.com guy. He had the nerve to email me more times then my own mother calls me, he googled me so he can obtain a photo of me so as to "look at it all the time"- his words not mine, and then he had the nerve to call me on a number i never gave him!!!! This man scares me, and i blame match.com. I am now going back to the old fashioned way of meeting guys, in a sweaty nightclub where the beer googles turns all males in a 10 metre radius into beautiful Josh Harnetts and handsome Reggie Bushes.

-LSGS