The Status of Your… Status

Why hello there sexers. We here at Sexit Strategy are still between stage 3 and 4 of grieving. Why did God have to take away our sweet and precious Amy? May we all pour out a drop of Tanqueray to our beloved songstress. She wouldn’t want us to discard of any more than a single solitary drop.

With that said, folks, let’s delve into something I have been investigating for several months now. That’s right, whoever said bloggers aren’t real investigative journalists never followed Sexit Strategy and they never read this post. The question: What’s your status?

The changing of the Facebook relationship status is a tricky tricky thing. The rules for one entering a relationship are drastically different than the rules for one leaving a relationship. First and foremost, you should only change your status to ‘In a Relationship’ with someone that you’ve A) met in person B) are actually in a relationship with. Might I suggest alerting them that you’re in a relationship, as well. Not a steadfast rule, but they may get suspicious if you suddenly have a heart by your profile pic and they were under the impression that you were just an FWB or a one night stand. Awkward.

If you’ve just broken up, or entered that murky ‘complicated’ world that Facebook thinks describes everyone who isn’t committed or pathetically eating ice cream alone and watching the Sex and the City movie while their reusable batteries charge in the corner, the rules vary drastically. Using your status to send a passive aggressive message to your ex is a bad idea. I won’t elaborate. Just know that it’s bad. Instead, follow these steps I read during my investigation.

1. Wait between 18 and 24 hours after the break up to alter your status’ status

2. Change your status in the wee hours of the morning and then link a dozen videos on your profile. If you have close friends that are night owls, implore them to post on your wall so that when your normal friends wake up in the morning your change of status is at the bottom of their newsfeed.

3. Buy ice cream, rent Sex and the City from Redbox, and join the rest of us.

One thing you don’t want to do when you’re downgrading your relationship status is dwell on it. People will comment. Ignore them. You will see more sad faces on your profile than you’ve ever wanted to see. Ignore them. People you haven’t spoken to in months will ask what happened. Ignore them. Finally, your mother will see your status and talk about what a loser your ex was to begin with. Ignore her.

The status of your status is what makes Facebook a multi-kazillion dollar company. We are wired to watch people enter and exit relationships just like we’re wired to slow down and watch a car wreck. In fact, I typed this whole post on my iPad in the car while waiting for traffic on 635 to clear. Until next time…

The Let Down

Why hello there sexers. Top o’ the mornin’ to ya. It’s Friday, it’s five o’clock somewhere, so grab a cocktail and let’s hop right in.

It was when I was watching Coupling with a nightcap of Jeremiah Weed n’ Water and a friend of mine, that an interesting subject came up. Or didn’t. The question of the letdown. Supposedly it happens to every guy. I’ve never experienced it and I’d rather get hit in the face with a 2x4 than ask any of my close friends if it’s ever happened to them. It’s embarrassing. It’s sad. It’s the realization that at a very middle age, say fifty or so, you’ll be lining up at your local CVS for another bottle of life’s blood: Viagra.

Yes, folks, we’re talking about The Great Let Down. What do you do when your Mr. doesn’t want to help you… well, do the do?

The fact of the matter is, there’s no simple solution when you’re only firing at half cylinders. Your lady partner is expecting all the torpedoes to be at full mast and if for whatever reason they aren’t, hang your head in shame, claim it’s the first time and leave quickly. Do not call. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 dollars.

There’s no use trying to rationalize or diagnose the situation. It may very well be stress. Or fatigue. But all she hears when you make excuses is These Boots Weren’t Made For Walking… so get out of there with dignity and class… and speed. Go. Go now. Run if you have to.

The situation is a little trickier if you’re in a relationship. At that juncture, pray your girlfriend understands. Exit to the restroom and have a long talk with your Mr. Not So Hard On, and then return to bed, go directly to sleep. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 dollars. Trust me, talking about it is the last thing that’ll charm that little snake of yours. You’ve suffered enough embarrassment for one night.

Step two: within 48 hours but not before 8 hours, bring the subject up carefully. Let her know you know it happened, it isn’t her, and that hopefully it won’t happen again. She’ll say something comforting and you’ll be fine. Just make sure to relax the next time you plan on copulating. Stressing out over half-mast is the quickest way to only get to half-mast. This I know. This I’ve heard.

Next time, we’ll discuss the partner’s obligation when the sails don’t sail. Until next time, sexers. Bon Voyage.

The Ex Sext

Hello there sexers. So I’m aware it’s been quite a while since I imparted some valuable knowledge on love and relationships, but sometimes life happens. Other times, vacation happens. Sangria happens. Inebriation happens. I don’t think I need to elaborate, do I?

So it was when I was drinking Peach Sangria with a friend of mine over the nation’s most illustrious holiday that the subject of ex-sexting came up. Now I’ve been very vocal about my feelings towards sexting in the past. I think it’s the best way to get a few rocks off without risking an STD. If my phone somehow contracts the Hiv, I might rethink my position, but until then, I say send a racy message… just make sure your face and your gens are sent separately. No use getting Wienered for your… wiener.

But with an ex, the trickiness quotient increases exponentially. The real question is, are you even allowed to reach out to your ex? How long does someone have to wait before it’s appropriate to contact an ex… point, blank, period? My friends and I like to follow the rule of half. Bide your time for half the length of the relationship, with four months being the cutoff. In short, two months, max.

Texting an ex in any capacity is tricky. It opens up a door to feelings that should very well be closed shut and locked with a key. It messes up boundaries. Throw a racy text into the mix, and well you’re setting yourself up for eminent failure. It should be one’s goal to move on in a decisive manner; that means drop the cell phone in the toilet like the rest of us when you’re drunk and don’t sext your ex.

But it’s done, Mark. It’s already done, you say. Now what? This blog is all about the ‘what now’ when a problem occurs. What’s the proper sexit strategy? Plead sheer and utter black out. Sure, being wasted isn’t an excuse for say… driving or getting in a fight with a police horse or making out with your second cousin or giving a one-kneed blowy on a dancefloor. But it is a solid excuse for accidently sexting someone. Say the liquor took over, send an apology text in the morning, and forget it ever happened. If they respond kindly, well… you don’t really need a sexit, then do you? Until Monday sexers. The good life is at your fingertips.

Love thy neighbor — and if he happens to be tall, debonair and devastating, it will be that much easier. — Mae West

The Ultimate Ultimatum

Why hello there sexers. We here at Sexit Strategy have been watching the Wimbledon games as if it’s our day job. Besides simply watching great tennis day after day, I must say the eye candy in England these days is astounding. Whoever invited Feliciano Lopez to the party definitely gets top marks. Whoever told Venus Williams it was okay to wear that high-waisted goddess jumper that resembled a full wet diaper needs to go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 dollars.

With that said, we did take time out of our busy schedule to discuss some relationship related matters. (As much as I’d love to discuss how William might be the baldest future King Great Britain has ever seen…) and it was when a friend of mine and I were chatting over awesome jello shooters and soaking up each other’s awesomeness that the subject of the dreaded ultimatum came up.

In relationships, there is no greater two edged sword than the ultimate ultimatum. That card is reserved for truly heinous acts in which one is quite ready to call it quits but would rather give their other the slight benefit of one more doubt before they pull the plug. There is something to be said, however, that a relationship that is already at the ultimatum stage is most likely on life support to begin with.

But don’t be fooled, sexers. Telling someone that if they don’t do things your way or else you’re done can be the quickest way to bite yourself in the ass. Before you pull out the ‘if you don’t agree, maybe we shouldn’t be together line’, be prepared to… well, to not be together. Making that threat emptily is the fastest way to get you and baby Magic front row seats to divorce court.    

Giving someone an ultimatum should always be done with care. In most cases, the person with more relationship points is the only one in a position to threaten. Points? More on that later, but suffice it to know that in relationships we’re always playing for points. Are you the more attractive party in the relationship? Add a point. Breadwinner? Add a point. Crazy mother in law? Subtract a point. Ron Jeremy-esque? Add 11.5 points.  

The ultimatum is a great tool to get your otherwise lacking significant other to see things your way, even if they don’t actually see things your way. No one wants to break up over any one action, and in several cases, an ultimatum will lead to the desired outcome to avoid just that. However, doling one out is a death star for a relationship. Not only does it point to rocky roads, but you never really know what someone is going to do until they do it… and that means your ultimate ultimatum could lead to you calling Ultimate Movers and buying a one way ticket to SingleVille.

A Sexit Sitdown Session: I’ve Put a [Dry] Spell On You

What do you do when you are married and aren’t getting any, and the good old fashioned berry tickle doesn’t work…?

                                                 -Anonymous

Thank you for such a concise question, reader. As short as the query is, unfortunately, the answer isn’t quite so simple.

First and foremost, before I could get to the nitty gritty of your matrimonial dry spell, I had to Google the term berry tickle. Not gonna lie, not in my vocabulary. Much to my chagrin, Google didn’t have the answer. This very rarely happens, so you can imagine my utter confusion as to the origin of this very very colloquialized phrase. (Unless of course you meant the videos of Barry getting Tickled or a rather prolific website that sells adult toys by name of TickleBerry. I couldn’t decided which one better suited this question…)

Anyhow, it doesn’t really matter which method of self discovery you’ve taken to, the facts at hand indicate that they are less than effective. The problem here, my dear friend, is that in most cases such as these, the problem isn’t sexual. The sex leaving the boudoir is a byproduct of a much more complicated issue in your relationship. In the spirit of concision: find out why your significant other isn’t putting out or you’ll be doomed to celibacy and tickling your berries for the rest of your life—which doesn’t bode well because you’re already bored of hanging out with Huckleberry Finn and the Jet (yes, they’re weird, but their wonderful).

My advice is to go back to the last time you and your better half copulated and see what the circumstances were. Maybe recreate the mood and remind your spouse why they used to love your berry boys to begin with. If necessary, download some Babyface and pour out some Tequila and let a friend of mine named Mr. Patron do the talking. If all else fails, dress up like George Clooney and hope for the best.

This is the perfect opportunity for me to plug the app of a good friend of mine: Dr. Sexy Time, available for Apple and soon for Android. The app is committed to improving the sex lives of committed (and actually, not so committed, I guess) adults. Give it a looksie at your local iTunes store and see if their mantra will help you in your situation: Good Sex is Good For You.

There is nothing worse than losing the passion in a relationship. Like a pot of boiling water, if you let the passion dwindle, all you’ll be left with is a dry pan by the time it’s all said and done. Nip this situation in the bud right now, my friend, before it’s too late. Until next time, sexers: don’t let the sun go down on you.     

What’s in a Name?

Hello there Sexers. I can’t lie. As I type this, I’m still reeling from the travesty that was the Miss USA 2011 pageant. I know it has no bearing on sex or relationships, but allow me two sentences to vent, please. A ginger from New Jersey? Can it get any more déclassé than that? And now that I’ve alienated any red-headed readers or fans from Jersey… let’s move on.  

Alas, it was when a friend of mine and I were enjoying cocktails over ceviche that a very interesting topic came out: the name game. We’re not talking about Brenda Brenda Bo Benda here. We’re talking about what happens when you say the wrong name in bed.

It’s bad enough saying the wrong name in casual conversation. Once, I was approached by someone who seemed to know me, even though I could have sworn I’d never seen him before in my life. Being the people person I strive to be, I went with it and chalked the meeting up to a drunken night. In our conversation, I narrowed his named down to two things: James or Justin. I decided to just go for it, said Justin and it ended up being James. Needless to say, I never saw that guy again. It was tres embarrassing.

Now imagine doing that while being inside of someone. That’s a million and one times worse. Talk about getting Weinered out of Congress. If you call the wrong name in bed, you may as well return to your loft, pack your things and leave. You are no longer in the running to be America’s Next Top Hookup.

So what do you do? The key here is to refrain from saying anything else for the rest of the copulation session. Just keep mum. Pretend like it never happened. When you’re done, slink away like the incident didn’t happen: quickly and quietly. Don’t wait around for a call about a second date… you’ve sealed your fate as a one hit wonder.

And if you’re the receiver in this kind of situation? My inclination is to say just let it slide. It happens to all of us. Everyone has looked at a Britney and said Ashley. For the most part, things like this are super harmless. Don’t make a big deal about it.

If you’re getting serious with this person, however, I’d say find out who this Ashley or Justin is and deal accordingly. There’s never an excuse to shout out an exes name in bed… all other names deserve a shoulder shrug and a forgive and forget. Unless it’s his mother’s name. Red flag. Big big red flag.  

What a Mouthful

Hello Sexers. We here at Sexit Strategy are still in celebratory mode after last night’s sheer thrashing of the Miami Heat. And even if the Heat has the edge in the looks department (sorry Dirk and Kidd… it’s just the way it is), we’ll still take the little nugget Barea out to town over the likes of James, Wade and even Chalmers any day. What can we say? We like them bite sized.

And speaking of Mavs games, it was when a few friends and I were watching the game over potent margaritas that the age old question surfaced to the top. It’s a question women (and 10-15% of men according to most studies) have asked themselves since the dawn of time. In fact, it’s the first question Eve asked herself post-Garden when a bored Adam uttered the words “So… what do you wanna do now?” Anyone who’s ever been in the eighth grade and/or been on a third date has asked themselves this question. I told you… age old.

The question I’m referring to? Spit or Swallow?

It’s true. Anyone who’s ever been down there has been plagued with the question. In fact, the anxiety surrounding the decision eclipses about sixty percent of the job, and guys can tell. I’ve had friends with a firm stance on the matter. No swallowing, ever. Always spit. I’ve also had looser friends who think that spitting is what slutty chicks do to make themselves feel less slutty. You’ve seen the task through to the end, you may as well finish the job.

Whatever your stance, know that the way you choose to answer the question says more about you than anything you reveal on the first three dates (assuming you waited that long. Chica, if you’re debating spitting or swallowing at any point before at least a steak dinner and a stiff cocktail, you’re not trying to have your personality judged… just saying). Spitters are oft considered classier, more wholesome and less streetwalker. Swallowers… well, you may as well go ahead and get Property of Tony tattooed onto the small of your back like you’ve been planning. If it lands anywhere else, I’m going to hope that he didn’t warn you and that you didn’t see it coming, so to speak. More on male etiquette there next week.

And if you are a spitter, what’s the proper sexit? First and foremost, I hope you’ve isolated the nearest sink. It’s like riding a plane. Know your emergency exit and you’ll be fine. Don’t, and you’ll end up on an island with polar bears and strange winds for seven years. There’s really no conversation required once you’ve decided to eject that seed like a rewound VHS tape ready to go back to Blockbuster. You simply get up off your knees, walk to the nearest sink or open window and you let it go likes it’s a mouthful of sunflower seeds.

If you’re determined to swallow that mess, well… you’re also determined to be called only at 1:15 a.m. and only after 8 beers or a bottle of wine. Until next time sexers, keep it real and keep it classy.                

I’ve been very vocal about my feelings towards online dating. This is an example of why. Expect a rather long tirade on the proper sexit strategy when faced with a Match.com date such as this one in the very near future. In the meantime, how do you feel about cats?

A Sexit Sitdown Session

We here at Sexit Strategy are constantly seeking inspiration. Every time we step out of our boudoir, actually, we’re looking around for proper sexit strategy. So imagine my sheer excitement when my first two reader questions came in. There was no greater joy, my friends. And so with no further ado, the inaugural installment of our newest feature here at Sexit: A Sexit Sitdown Session (try saying that five times in a row).

Please address the vital importance of a proper sexit strategy for circumstances such as the following: When you’re The Other Woman stopping by for some a.m. lovin’ after his live-in girlfriend leaves to go to work and drop off their baby at child care, it’s very poor form to be seen exiting his apartment and crossing the parking lot in your jams by neighbors trying to take out their trash, leave for work, and retain plausible deniability.

                                                 -Anonymous

Answer: I must say, this is difficult to answer because it isn’t really a question. I have been very vocal about my stance regarding other women in my previous blog, Lex and the City. And although my stance has gotten me in quite a bit of trouble in the past, I’ve stuck by it like a good wife sticks by her wayward man. And although I agree with you that it is quite poor form to be seen leaving in your ‘jams’ as it were, I’d say it’s poor form to show up in your jams to begin with! Come on, ladies. Why are you visiting your man in flannel underpants and a Juicy tankini top? As a mistress, it is your job to bring the sexy that your half-man isn’t getting at home. What happened to the lingerie? Did the gift card to Victoria’s Secret he bought you bounce at the register? People will see you leave his apartment (hello, it’s a complex, folks), they just will. Unless you are serious about the cloak and dagger act, neighbors will know. Don’t embarrass that poor boy by looking a hot mess when you leave, though. Fix yourself up. Get some sexy mistress outfits and do the walk of shame in style. 

Until next time, sexers, have a wonderful Humpday.