Sgt. Sucker

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Because it's funny...and true. Start cutting...

Lights Out

Even dear old Blackie Collins makes mistakes. As I have said before, I never claim to be perfect. I am writing today's blog to show you that we all stumble on our quest for love or whatever. When I was in my early twenties, I made it my life's goal to find all the baddest boys I could-as many of my peers did too. I went out of my way to date the guy who was the least stable, the one who provided the most drama, or chased after someone who was so obviously in hot pursuit of something other than me. But as I've gotten older (those 20s are a bitch as far as learning goes), I've realized that there's only room for one drama queen in my relationships and I prefer it to be me. I no longer look for the hottest guy in the room, the one that all the girls want, because nine times out of ten, he's well aware that all the girls want him and he'll act accordingly. I am no longer attracted to cockiness or arrogance. A quiet confidence is enough for me. Nor do I think I have to settle for someone sub par just so I can have someone to curl up with at the end of the day. These days, I look for the guy that makes me laugh. The guy with whom I can't stop smiling. The guy who I'm attracted to versus the guy all the girls want. The guy who can hold a conversation and can throw me against a wall and fuck me spineless (I wouldn't be Blackie, if I didn't toss that in there).

Yet, today, I sit here a bit humbled-I've been snapped back. I've been enjoying my roster of men, enjoying a life of dating after having been someones girlfriend for so long. But after having a crazy intense conversation with the aforementioned best friend who I slept with(Read Friends W/ Bennies and catch up), I started to think that perhaps I'm still a bit lost, just in a different way. Perhaps I'm pretending to be uncaring, when at the core I'm just a girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, but wears a cute cardigan to cover it up. Women are emotional creatures and I don't mean we cry at the drop of a hat or we blow up without warning (because there are always warnings, men just need to pay attention). What I mean is we are usually led by our hearts before any other particular part of our being comes into play. It's apart of our genetic make up. So you've got those women out there who claim to be uncaring, to have sex with whoever and whenever, but then you find out they have father issues or were molested or abandoned by their mother or something that makes them seek acceptance through outside sources. At our root, there's a heart. So, after this conversation, I realized that cynicism is fast taking over my previous hopeless romantic tendencies. When entering into a new situation with a man, I find that I am already waiting for the other shoe to drop. The dying romantic whips up a successful future relationship complete with photos of us laughing on FB and having all our friends wish for our happiness, while the cynic, who has seen so many women crushed (herself included) by the revelation that yet another guy isn't The One, draws up scenarios that involve cheating, lying, and break ups. I find that most of the time, I wait for them to fuck up. I wait for them to turn out to be what I assume they are: flawed. So, today, I am in a serious limbo. Should I still believe or should I dim the lights in a moment of silence as the Death of Love movie montage rolls...

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

Thanks are in order apparently!

Hey Guys & Gidgets, I have been receiving great emails, but just received one thanking me for my fun blog and asking for me to do more!  I appreciate it, and while I do have a real job, I'll keep 'em coming!  As long as there are stories to tell, I'll tell 'em.

<3

Blackie Collins 

Digital Planets

In a universe where people are able to have full conversations in 140 characters or less and have sex via text (pointless), it's safe to say "we are living in a digital world and I am a digital girl" (ha, that was fun). I love the Internet, it sucks up hours at a time and obviously gives me a fabulous outlet to tell my funny stories, but there is a line drawn somewhere and that somewhere is dating. Sure the first few conversations or interactions can happen online, but when you look up and realize that you don't even know their phone number or what they look like because you're always separated by a screen, well, Houston, we definitely have a problem. I have found that men who want to make time for you do just that and that includes getting up off their desk chair and actually making a physical appearance in your life. Take this Internet dating situation on which I promised updates. So, you start off in a world where all you have are a few fun facts (likes: nude beaches, protein shakes, and working out; dislikes: fatties) and perhaps a photo that is usually not as dead on as one would like. You start off with a few emails, maybe a G-Chat here or there and then a phone call to set up a date and you go from there. Now, while my jury is still out regarding this match.com life, it is starting to serve it's purpose as I'm beginning to see the positives in it. At some point, if you so choose, you're forced to go from the world wide web to the world itself. But the great thing is if you choose not to, you don't have to! So, let's jump off the actual dating sites and move to real life. If you meet a friend of a friend on Facebook/Myspace/Twitter or some other "I'm in love with myself and must dedicate a page to it" site and you never leave that realm, well it's safe to say that someone is choosing not to... It's a digital planet, but until machines take over like that new Bruce Willis movie coming out, well, we're going to have to do the work ourselves. Get up off your computer, go out and live! But read my blog first...

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

Til Death Do Us Part...(Or some hottie comes around)

Marriage: the sacred taking of vows in front of all your friends and family, under God or whoever you believe in, and in a fabulous Monique Lhullier gown (god willing). It's suppose to last forever and not only that, but you're suppose to forsake all others. But in a society where monogamy is about as popular as barf-flavored wedding cake, the divorce rate is high and many have stepped out on their honey's.

A couple years ago, I was dating an entrepreneur named Kerry. He had tons of money, lots of cars (which I may have liked more than him in hindsight), and houses in plenty of locations. He had a condo in New York, a house in Pittsburgh, which I never saw, and another in some vacationy type place-I don't remember. He was tons of fun to be around and very nice to look at. He was incredibly sexy in that bad boy sort of way and in my young twenties, I took great care in finding the baddest boys out there...moving on. One night, we went to my favorite mexican restaurant in Hell's Kitchen and after several margaritas, we stopped by his office in midtown. He needed to see if a fax came in. Well, long story short, we had great sex on his desk and desk chair. I always meant to find out what kind of chair it was because it was so comfortable, not to mention conducive to drunken sex, but I never found out because of what happened next. While he was messing around in his office, I decided to peruse the magazines in the lobby. One was a car magazine with him on the cover (I told you he had crazy cars). So I flip through and skim the article and what do I find? A mention of a wife. Whhaaat? A wife? Like, you're married? I closed the magazine and thought for a second. "How do you want to handle this?" I reviewed the situation for a moment: was that why I'd never seen the house in Pittsburgh? Was the family stashed away there? I have a pretty imaginative brain, so the out of town trips and last minute date requests all started to blur into a giant ball of THIS GUY WAS MARRIED! I stood up form the plush couch and I sauntered into his office and said, "So, Kerry, you're married?" The look on his face was so comical, I could maybe die now reminiscing. "Married? What are you talking about?" OK, not the correct answer. A simple no would've been nice (although I still would've been out). I just looked at him blankly so he replied, "The editor of that magazine is a good friend of mine. He thought it'd be funny to put that in there." Seriously? Seriously? (I'd say it again, but I don't want to risk sounding like a Grey's Anatomy character). And the manner in which he said it was so lackadaisical I could almost smell the lie coming off his breath. I would love to say that I took off like a runaway bride, but even I have my moments and he was good in bed, so a week later I slept with him one last time and then I called it quits and ignored his phone calls.

But all this leads to how a married man could cheat so easily and (without any kind of fanfare) lie like the proverbial rug. I'd like to think there are a few good married men out there, but I'm losing hope honestly. I went to a wedding just last month and decided that the gorgeous drummer in the wedding band had to be mine-that is, until I noticed the real wedding band: on his finger. Oh well, I thought and proceeded to have a great night and take advantage of the open bar. I noticed him watching me quite a few times and at the end of the night, as the band was packing up, he motioned for me to come over to him. My sister was nearby and I asked her if she thought his head nods were directed at me. Her answer: "Yes, but he's married." Right, that's what I thought too, but when I looked through my wedding buzzed haze, there was no ring on his finger. Now, I could've sworn it had been there before, but suddenly it had vanished. Coincidence? Ha about as likely as a marriage lasting long enough to reach it's silver anniversary. Why bother to "put a ring on it" if you're just gonna take it off when someone rings your alarm?

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo Blackie Collins

Something worth getting attached to:

E-Dating:

It is impossible in this day and age to not know someone who has tried the internet dating scene. Apparently it's got its benefits.  I have never been able to do it.  It just seems to much like taking out a lonely hearts ad in the newspaper.  But apparently, people are meeting all over the globe via internet, some are having serious relationships and getting married.  I guess the internet just acts as a conduit between two people similar to a friend introducing two friends that she thinks have similar interests and will get on well.  Yet, I'm still not convinced.  But because I'm always up for any kind of challenge, I'm going to sign up for one of these singles sites and there will be reoccurring blogs to update my findings-good thing this blog is anonymous, some guys might get really pissed...

Can You Keep a Secret?

Secret lovers, yes, that's what we are...thank you, Atlantic Star, but if your relationship needs to be kept a secret, you might as well not even bother. Now if this is the set up and both parties are okay with it, my best to you. My friend Natalie is supposedly dating an up and coming actor who must remain anonymous to protect his budding career (whatever). Now I say supposedly because Mr. Actor told her upfront that their affair had to be kept under wraps because part of his appeal was his sex symbol status (he's okay looking, but I definitely think the arrogance kills it). Natalie went along with it because he was definitely "the one" and had the stroke of a well oiled...machine. Six months passed and Natalie was still a secret. Now, what wasn't a secret was Mr. Actor who was working on a new hbo series that was getting picked up. Mr. Actor needed a date for the premiere and while Natalie got ready for her red carpet debut, Mr. Actor's publicist set him up with a Megan Fox look alike that was starring in Saw 45. Natalie was crushed-not because she wasn't going, but because Mr. Actor made no fuss about having her there. My opinion was that he should no longer be cast in her production. Why bother with someone who is happy to hide out with you in your living room, but runs for cover when it counts-in public. I'd think any man would want to scream it from the rooftops if he were dating me and you should feel the same. If not, than quite frankly, he shouldn't waste his time or breath, because I guarantee I won't. If he can't define who you are that means he doesn't care to and that, in itself, is exactly what he thinks of you. I don't hide behind the curtain like the Wizard of Oz, I'm Glinda: appearing in a glass bubble centerstage for all to see. And if you know anything about me, you know that's no secret.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo Blackie Collins

Disappearing Acts

Scenario: You and BFF have an impenetrable bond. You hang out constantly, read each other's thoughts, talk on the phone until the wee hours of the morning and call each other sisters. Then BFF meets new boyfriend. At first, you hear all about him and advise her accordingly. But as the weeks and months roll by, you realize that those late night phone calls are few and far between and that you haven't seen said BFF since that DVF sample sale last May. You get a text here and there, but the contact has been cut, you've been cut, or shall we say, replaced? Yes, ladies, this blog is dedicated to the friends in our lives who disappear when they have a gentleman, yet reappear when that gentleman is as much a no show in your lives as she is.

Enter Lee. Lee's been a close friend of our's (my group of girlfriends from college) since freshman year. She's the free-floating, easy-going, beer-drinking, pot-smoking free spirit of our group. She's probably one of the smarted people I've ever met, yet it's a quiet intelligence-the kind that doesn't make you feel like an idiot when you talk to her about the GOP's stance on energy reform. Lee has the kind of personality that makes everyone fall in love with her and the energy that makes you want to get to know her if you don't already. However, that same quality that makes our friends love her is the same that keeps Lee in a relationship. Men flock to her naturally. Fear not, for Lee does have a flaw. She needs a man. She holds on for dear life and when one leaves, she automatically slides another one into his slot (oh where we could go with that pun). She's been in love several times-each one could be the one, she's quite hopeless really, and if it weren't for the fact that I love her, I'd feel slightly bad for her. I'd feel bad mostly because Lee seems to be the only one who doesn't realize her true potential. I have to believe that otherwise she's just another needy woman who isn't complete without some guy on her arm. I see Lee so rarely, it's frustrating-none of us really see her. Maria, another from our group, is closer with Lee than I am and she barely see's her either. We lament this fact quite often.

But Maria hung out with Lee this past weekend and as we all chatted over the phone, Maria let me know that Lee's latest boyfriend was out of town that weekend. CHA-CHING! I had been wondering what constituted this weekend frolic (since Maria's birthday party a month ago didn't warrant a rare Lee-sighting) and there it was in plain sight: the ball and chain was out of town, so Lee suddenly had some free time on her hands and of course she came running to her friends. But here's my issue-I love you dearly, I would see you once a year, if it were quality time spent, but what I can't do is be the constant runner up when your single or when he's not around. Is there a reason we don't get a second thought unless he's done something wrong and you need advice or he's gone off with his buddies? Don't you miss us? We sure as hell miss you. I have always believed in being a loyal friend and I continue to be just that whether I am attached or not. I suggest you do the same or risk being that friend who's looks we barely remember and can only recall when we last saw you based on Haley's comet.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo Blackie Collins

Friends with Bennies

I think I may have made a mistake. Hard to believe, I know, but I slept with one of my closest male friends and now we can't seem to stop. I have no problem with that part obviously, but the last time we did the deed, he not only hung around after, but (gasp) cuddled and coddled me. He kissed my forehead (have you seen The Best Man?) and just held onto me. For a long time. It was weird. I suddenly felt like I was his girlfriend or something and I wanted it to stop. Or maybe I wasn't sure if I wanted it to stop. I was confused. I was not prepared for this. My friend Marissa told me she didn't approve weeks ago-I couldn't help but hear her nagging voice in my head at that exact moment. Damnit! See, this is what happens when you add sex into a perfectly normal, platonic (obviously not entirely) friendship: feelings ensue. Think about it. Every person yearns for a relationship that is essentially with someone who is your best friend that you can't keep your hands off. So, you have a friend with whom you have amazing fun. You traipse the city getting into trouble, sneaking into movies (for the price of one), you enjoy long brunches at sidewalk cafes in the village, you laugh at the ensembles of desperate girls at parties/clubs, or cuddle on the couch when one is sick. He watches SATC reruns with you when you've been dumped and he tells you about his issues with women. Then one night, it just turns on suddenly (ok, not suddenly, there's been sexual tension in the past as there is in almost every opposite sexed friendship at some point-even if it isn't reciprocated). You wind up ripping each other's clothes off and going at it on the same couch you forced him to watch Pretty Woman on a month ago. My, how the tables turn. The other shoe has dropped. You are now officially having your cake and eating it too...or maybe, you're just screwed (pun absolutely intended). Can you really have the proverbial friend with benefits? You're essentially finding a cut buddy in someone you already know-and quite well. But there are rules that must be followed in regards to cut buddies-the first one: do not get attached. Sex without strings attached is almost impossible when it's your friend, though, correct, because the strings already exist. As he was kissing my forehead for the seventh time, I felt something-how could I not? I genuinely love this man already because he's one of my closest friends, but now there's a thicker layer there. In the throws of passion, I could've cared less, but in the afterglow, the smoke cleared and I thought, "Shit." Not the preferred thought, but I am starting to think that a major fuck-up has happened here. Someone will get hurt, heads will roll and perhaps the worst part: our friendship will probably never be the same. But, whether it'll be better or nonexistent is to be determined.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo Blackie Collins

The Comeback Kid

They always come back.

Always.

Remember Jenny? She held out on Jack in an attempt to make it special, blah, blah, blah and Jack disappeared. Well, just like Houdini, Jack reappeared a few weeks later sprouting original lyrics that somehow composed a song and dance dealing with an ex-girlfriend and things that were out of his control 'happening to him.' Now, my Jenny is a smart girl. After she cried her eyes out, she wiped the tears, blew her nose and hopped back out on the market and boy did she come up with the (ahem) long end of the stick. So, when Jack popped up, Jenny was more than ready. Before he could get a word in, Jenny informed him that she liked him, thought he was a cool guy and that she'd love to be friends with him, after all, they had so many friends in common and were bound to run into each other regularly. Jack was dumbfounded and agreed that, uh, yeah, he'd love to be friends too. I suspect Jack thought he'd be able to just pick up where they left off even though he basically ignored her for weeks. But Jenny has a bit more respect for herself than that and while it hurt, she knew Jack didn't deserve to have what she had to offer. Which is fabulous, but not the point. The point is that they always come running back. I have a friend, Marla, who constantly says this: "Girl, they always make that comeback." She has yet to be proven wrong. I began asking friends about the second go-round and almost every one had a story about boys that tried to weasel their way back in. I'm no one's sloppy seconds and while I knew you'd regret it, that doesn't mean I'm going to take you back when you finally do. Sianara, I prefer The Stickitout Kid.

That bitch stole my line,

.xoxo Blackie Collins

a SLAP-happy time

I believe in sex and all things related. And many of you will concur (otherwise, you wouldn't even read my blog). Now, I've told the story I'm going to share with you several times and all the reactions have been the same: horrified, yet hilarious. I have been dating quite a bit lately (just generally having fun, enjoying myself and all that jazz) and one of my suitors is well, how can I put this? A bit obsessed with porn. I have no idea if he watches it, I assume he does based on some of the comments that have been made and largely on this piece of evidence I'm going to present. If we were in a court of law, I promise you'd slap on the cuffs and take his ass off to jail, which is precisely what I did more or less (he's definitely been kicked off the roster).

To protect the accused, we shall call him Ralph (since that's what I want to do now when I think of him). Ralph and I met at a party a month ago- I was actually enjoying a conversation with his friend, but Ralph jumped in and made it known that I was making a mistake and should in fact get to know him better instead. I like ego and aggression, so I followed his advice. We exchanged information and he called the very next day (I have that effect). We hung out a couple times and while I was into him, I wasn't into him. We all have that one guy that's just kind of taking up space and entertaining you when no one else is available-Ralph was that for me. I know, not nice. I don't care. Ralph definitely made it known that he really liked me and while my jury was still out, I enjoyed myself while they were debating. Ralph seemed like the dangerous type, but more and more, he started coming up straight-laced. He let me know that he didn't like when women cursed, that he believe in male and female roles, and went to bed no later than 10pm on work nights. He started to get boring in my eyes, but then Ralph did something that made him anything but boring, yet was also apart of his demise. We had gone out and I could tell that Ralph thought sex was in the cards for him that evening (I hadn't slept with him yet). I was still undecided on whether or not I wanted to add him to my list, so he came home with me (not unusual) and we started going at it on the couch (also not unusual). Now, I enjoy fellatio like the next, but somewhere between sucking and blowing, Ralph got the idea that giving me a nice wack in the face with his penis would be appropriate, while telling me to (and I quote), "Suck that dick, suck it." I will give you a moment to process (and scream)._________________________________________

I've seen this done in pornographic videos, but never in all my glory, has a man had the audacity to actually do that-especially some guy that I've been dating for under a month. I've done some crazy stuff, but mostly with my boyfriend at the time (and even he might get it for slapping me with his member). Needless to say, the mood was killed. I asked if he was joking and basically let him know where the door was. Do not ask me why I entertained this fool after that night, but I did. And he showed me exactly why I should've cut him before. A week or so later, we were on the phone discussing loving what you do for a living. I informed him that I love my job, he felt opposite. I told him he should change occupations. He said, "Well, I love football, but it's too late for that. And I love porn, but I don't think my dick is big enough." (Yes, yes, I know, why was I even remotely involved with someone who'd even say a sentence like that? In my defense, please remember that Ralph was Mr. Straight-laced up until the major left turn in his personality. I still kind of thought I was being punk'd or something.) I tried to recall his size and unconvincingly let him know that he'd probably be fine-not because he was too small or too big, but because I simply didn't care. I was already planning my exit strategy. I almost felt bad, but then came the proverbial final nail in his coffin.
Ralph: "I've been thinking. You love writing, I love porn. Why don't we make a movie? You can write the script."
Me: blank stare at the phone as I wonder if he really just asked me what I think he just asked me.
Ralph: seems to be waiting for a response.
Me: "Are you serious? I'm sorry, but the last time I did that was with my ex boyfriend and I was with him for 5 years. What does that tell you?"
Ralph: "Sounds like it's time for another one."
Me: Click.
I received a text message from Ralph, asking if I was okay, we must've gotten disconnected. I told him we were disconnected because I hung up and that I was offended by his request, that I hadn't even slept with him, that I'd known him less than a month, had he lost his mind? He informed me that he was kidding, it was joke, could I relax? Oh, Ralph, yes, I can absolutely relax...and I have every intention of doing so. I'll send you a picture of me doing just that, because you won't be seeing me again.

Ladies, beware. Sometimes it's a dick-slappin,' porn-makin' wolf in sheep's clothing.

That bitch stole my line,

.xoxo Blackie Collins

Woman Down

From time to time, to put it quite bluntly, shit happens. It happens to me quite a bit apparently. Please accept my apologies for the two week slumber! I've gotten all your emails and am about to drop about 3 blogs on you! Buckle the eff up!