No wonder I grabbed the last issue on the newsstand. Men want them some gore and girl on girl.

As silly as Maxim can be, they do have some pretty funny one-liners littering their pages. And speaking of lesbians –  see case A: this distant birthday wish. Maxim says, “My lesbian neighbors asked me what I wanted for my birthday. They gave me a Rolex, I think they misunderstood when I said I wanna watch.”  Giggles. I can’t lie, that’s funny.

As for the hawt women dressed in lace for October, I couldn’t help they all had old lady names. Agnes…Yvonne…Regina…is there a cougar jaguar fantasy that I don’t know about?! One thing I do not know for sure, is how all of these hot chicks are getting by eating creme puffs and In-N-Out burgers all the time.

Beyond creme puffs and greased up lady-thighs, I ran past a few articles featuring bad ass weapons and a few man movie reviews. I barely made it through the ‘Polar Bear Ate My Head!’ article after the second page featured an actual picture of the dude’s mauled head.  Seriously, google it or something. Suddenly you won’t want that creme puff anymore…

Then, I landed on the page every man scrambled too before they could even get out of the magazine section of the gas station (and ended up in the bathroom alone); ‘The Superhot Secrets of Lesbian Sex.’  It’s cute how every man thinks they can casually sandwich themselves in a lesbian experience. Doesn’t anyone watch Jersey Shore anymore!?!

Let’s see what guys are learning from lady on lady lovin’.

Maxim Says: Basically, girls can grind up against anything and get off–a knee, a hand, whatever.

Brittany Says: Great Maxim. Give guys another reason to sit there and do nothing. Can you see it? Men, holding up their fists like Spiderman and waiting for the magical moment. I don’t think so. Give yourself a little credit and have more creativity than a tree stump.

Maxim Says: A huge focus of all pre-orgasm work should be the kiss.

Brittany Says: Preach it, Maxim. Finally–something I agree with. I had to include this little tidbit in here. Oh my Hannah Montana, I’m actually learning something. (Sorry for bringing Disney into this.)

Maxim Says: If your lady wants to hop the fence for one night, there are always other straight girls there she can go home with. Just like in the lesbian porn online.

Brittany Says: I’ve never seen so many false hopes in one Times New Roman font. Sure, maybe it happens. Your girlfriend suddenly wants you to call up your best girlfriend to dance the dance in bed. But when is the last time you saw a unicorn? In a fairy tale? Ok.

Imagine going through your life as a heterosexual female. You’ve crushed on men, you’ve been attracted to men, you’ve dated men and had relationships with men…there’s was never a question: you dug dudes. End of story.

But then say one day you meet someone who is just so generous toward you. Someone who seems to care so greatly about you, who you care about in return. And that someone is a woman.

What do you do? Does that make you bisexual? A lesbian? Huh!? Well, read as one woman discusses her journey into — and out of — lesbianism.

Have you ever struggled with your own sexuality? What would you do in a situation like this? And hen does one become a full fledged lesbian?

Rejection makes people more attractive

Sex terms you should know

Laughing baby gets me every time

Nastiest tattoo ever

Who is Hollywood’s best dressed man?

Lesbians make more money than straight women

How women talk in commercials

ikea is for lovers

The mind of a man is one of life’s greatest mysteries. And the weird obsessions of those men… well, I’ll just never understand:

Fantasy Sports: I’ve never seen more passion in a man’s eyes as when he is watching his fantasy football team take the lead. Perhaps it makes watching football more fun, but does it really get any better than drinking beers, eating junk food and reclining in a La-Z-Boy for an entire day? One time I joined a celebrity fantasy league in hopes to understand the obsession. But even I, the celeb stalker and supporter of all things muscle-y that I am, found it to be just mundane.

Strippers: I’ll admit I’ve been to a strip club once or twice in my life, and I just don’t get the appeal. Other than the totally awesome acrobatics, which only ever occur at the truly classy establishments, it’s just nudity. Rubbing up against you. In public. That you can’t touch. What’s the point?

And while we’re on the subject, what’s the fascination with fake boobs? Have you ever touched a pair? Did you like the cement feel underneath your fingertips? Gross.

The Ability to Grow Facial Hair: I never know the appropriate response to give when a guy tells me that it only took him one week to grow the mess of a beard he is shamelessly walking around town with. High-five? Just because you can grow one doesn’t mean you should go out looking like Chewbacca. I wish men would obsess over being well-groomed instead of growing a large patch of hair above their lip.

Anal Sex: Let’s cut the crap, here. Seriously. Because the minute you get pooped on, you’re not going to obsess over spelunking in that region ever again.  Why put yourself through that? The fantasy is better than the reality, so can we just leave it at that?

Lesbians: They aren’t interested in you. You will never be invited to join in a threesome. And unless you secretly have a vagina, you don’t stand a chance.

But I’ve noticed something that has become so frequent that it happens at least twice a week. I don’t know if it’s because we have such a large freshman class that doesn’t know me as well as the rest of the upperclassmen, or if it’s something else, but while I’m walking to lunch, at a club meeting, or in a popular hang-out spot with my girlfriend, whether we’re just holding hands, play-flirting, or giving goodbye kisses, I’ve been catching several looks. And most of them are of utter confusion and/or disgust.

After well over a year of being with my girlfriend, it’s not exactly breaking news that we’re going out. We’ve gotten looks from some upperclassmen before, sure, but it was never so frequent or so extreme as it is now. And I’m certain that these looks aren’t being given to other heterosexual couples, or even other interracial couples (which, unless they are well-hidden, I have seen none of).

It’s bad enough that when I’m home, I can barely bring my girlfriend up in conversation without feeling awkward. But to be on campus, walking down the street and holding her hand and being gawked at like we’re some kind of traveling freak show? Forgive me, world, for saying that it makes me unhappy, uncomfortable, and angry. Aside from physical differences, we don’t differ much from any other heterosexual couple. We fight, we talk, we help each other, we have sex, we love. Sure, we might do it a little differently than John and Jane down the hall, but the premise is the same. So why should we be treated differently?

I know for myself that being raised in a household where nothing but heterosexuality was expected from me, it took me a little while to get accustomed to the idea that people of the same gender could love each other, too. And when I realized I was one of those people, it was hard. People seem to think that it’s something that can be turned on and off, or that it’s something people are starting to lean towards now because it’s “cool.” But why on earth would I ever willingly do something I know I’d be ridiculed for?

No, this is who I am. This is who I’ll always be. And I understand that people might have a little difficulty understanding other people who choose this lifestyle. People like me. It’s not “normal” or “right” by many standards. I wish that other people, people who stare and flare their nostrils, could understand us.

I know that not everyone can accept gays or lesbians. But trying couldn’t hurt.

Both the Huffington Post and the New York Times have recently gotten really interested in girl-on-girl action (but don’t worry, this has nothing to do with Lindsay Lohan and Sam Ronson. Absolutely nothing. Seriously. Nothing). They’ve gotten so interested, in fact, that they’ve dedicated whole columns to trying to figure out why it seems like chicks dig other chicks.

Let me break it down for them (and you, if you really don’t know): chicks dig chicks because we’ve been taught to dig chicks.

Why do women seem to have a more fluid sexuality than men – at least that anyone will admit? Because since we came shrieking out of the womb, we’ve seen images of women in every stage of undress – including naked. Advertisements for razors with long, leisurely shots of legs. TV shows that have a mandatory wardrobe of tight clothes and short skirts. A bajillion movies where tits and ass flash across the screen so often that we eventually forget guys even have body parts. Music videos full of bling and boob. Reality TV where hot tubs are as mandatory as microphones. Porn (who could forget porn?). I mean, it’s not an old argument that the media is saturated with the female form.

So why are we all puzzled that girls get a little aroused when they see other naked or semi-naked girls?

I’m no scientist, but if all I saw were images of broccoli strewn over the airwaves for 25 years, I’m sure I’d think pretty differently about broccoli. The media would have formed my appreciation of broccoli. Broccoli would be part of my daily life.

See what I’m getting at?

And in the same way, if tomatoes were also all over the airwaves, but not as prevalent as broccoli, I’m sure I’d be more comfortable around broccoli (in this analogy, tomatoes equal the male form). Sure, chiseled chests and naked guys are around, but brocc – I mean, the sexualized female form – is more prevalent.

Vegetables aside, it’s obvious to anyone with a brain that society tells most of us what to do and how to think, and for 25 years, I’ve been taught to equate the female form with sexuality, pleasure, and beauty.

So don’t get all surprised if my pulse runs a little quicker when I stumble across a nip slip on the internet. It doesn’t mean I’m gay.

It just means society is working.

Katherin Heigl backlash. To the MAX

Men everywhere are a little disappointed that the first lesbians to get married in LA aren’t Megan Fox lookalikes

Paul Janka. From pick-up artist douche to date rape a**hole

MTV starts their own Sex Blog. Here’s hoping Dr. Drew drops in to talk about Herpes…

This would definitely cut down on the Dunkin Donuts runs…

Lesbian Chic is the new black

Some televised man bashing

Amy Winehouse (probably) OD’s again. Which is great for her image.

Chaka Khan likes to cover herself in rubber.

No one wanted to be on Gossip Girl…at least no one in the Hamptons

No? That’s what makes my exes special.

When I saw that my former beau was posting pictures of sexually adventurous Brooklynites, I had to call him up.

“Those ladies sure do like to lick each other,” I said. “Why is that? Are they tasty? Are they all covered in nacho cheese?”

“Girls do this,” he said. “Every time I get out the camera, they start making out with each other. I take picture one, they’re friends, picture two, they’re friends, picture three, they’re sucking face. I just stand there, like, ‘I didn’t ask for this! This is all on you two!’”

Kissing girls, to be honest, is trendy. Right now, one of the biggest songs out there is called “I Kissed A Girl.” It’s by Katy Perry, and it’s got all the right props: drinking (“I got so brave, drink in hand”), a Lolita vibe of horny-yet-so-far-untouched experimentation (“It’s not what, I’m used to / Just wanna try you on / I’m curious for you”), and, most depressingly, a boyfriend lurking just out of sight, reassuring us that this girl isn’t really a lesbian (“I kissed a girl just to try it / I hope my boyfriend don’t mind it”).

These things may be familiar to you from, oh, every girl-on-girl porn film ever. (The video doesn’t exactly shy away from that association.) Like those movies, the goal of the song is to present both girls as femme (“soft skin, red lips, so kissable”) and desirable to men, while also suggesting that sex between girls isn’t really sex at all (“ain’t no big deal, it’s innocent”) and that what these two kids need is a dude to occupy the center of their silicone sandwich.

See, here’s the thing: I’ve kissed girls. I’ve kissed boys. I’ve liked both experiences, because I just plain like kissing. I think it comes down to the Kinsey Scale and the vagaries of human nature – even my Midwestern pastor-in-training mom thinks “everyone’s bisexual,” so that’s no big earth-shaking statement. It also comes down to my mad-scientist-in-training approach toward sex in general: you don’t know what you’ll enjoy until you try it, so why not try everything that looks good?

It’s also about the fact that people change over time. Someone might live as a Kinsey 2 (“predominantly heterosexual, but more than incidentally homosexual”) for years, then go up to a 5 (“exclusively homosexual”). I’ve gone back and forth between 3 (equal interest in both genders) and 0 (exclusively straight people have the lowest score on this scale – and I’m not going to make any jokes about that, no matter how much I want to). Once, in the months following a particularly bad breakup, I was X (“asexual”) – I tried making out with people, cute and funny and nice people, and found that it was about as fun as putting a live slug in my mouth.

So, given this, I don’t know why I’m so disappointed in the Katy Perry song. I think it comes down to the fact that, no matter how much she may get off on making out with her girl, or on bragging about how naughty she is, she is not really going to open up her mind to what that might mean. “It felt so right,” she sings, “don’t mean I’m in love tonight.” Her boyfriend, after all, might mind that. It’s safer if it “ain’t no big deal.” No matter how much fun she’s having with that girl, she’s going to stay straight. That seems like a pretty sure-fire way to avoid learning about yourself, and – in the long run – to make yourself very unhappy.

As for my friend, our conversation moved on to other photos from the same party, including one in which a boy and girl were kissing.

“It’s really beautiful, actually,” I said. “He looks so into her.”

“Yeah. He’s gay, though,” my ex said. “I was like, ‘oh, an ironic makeout.’ But after a while, I wasn’t so sure.”

[By the way, if you'd like to hear a really fun song about all this, click here. For a smart and realistic song, click here. Don't say I never did you any favors.]

[Photo courtesy of www.flickr.com/photos/katyperry]

I think a lot of girls ask themselves this at some point in time or another. After all, guys and girls communicate completely differently and it can leave a girl feeling emotionally helpless. And plus, we all know women are the ones with beautiful physiques. So I have asked myself this question and yet every time, “NOPE” seems to be the answer. If that’s true, then why do I LOVE it when girls hit on me?

A girl winks at me at a bar and then tells me I’m beautiful.

A hot girl I know asks me if I want to join her in sex with her boyfriend.

A lesbian tells me she wishes I were a lesbian.

Why, oh why, am I so thoroughly delighted by all of this supposedly unwarranted attention? I think I know why…

I think it’s because girls are notoriously VICIOUS with one another. Girls judge other girls like we’re all competing on America’s Next Top Model and the prize is endless chocolate and all-expenses-paid shopping. Even if I don’t wanna make out with the girl at hand, it feels nice to know she wants to make out with me.

Am I crazy?

Or have you ever felt this way?

In the recent wake of Juno, there’s a pretty emphatic highlight on young actresses like Ellen Page. Seems like everyone wants to hop on the bandwagon, and why not? It’s about time that the younger females in our current day and age have someone actually noteworthy to look up to, not to mention it’s great to see people our age act and do it well. So you’d think that if there were a movie that had two young prominent female characters playing lesbians, it would be an amazing breakthrough performance, right?

Not if everyone thinks it’s about lesbian werewolves, it’s not.

Now, don’t go thinking that there’s a movie where large furry girls are giving an entirely different meaning to the word “petting”. Ellen Page and Olivia Thrilby (who was also in Juno, as well as the recent, less popular but equally amazing Snow Angels) are set to play Jack and Diane in a movie that’s called, you guessed it, Jack and Diane.

Two girls meet and hook up in New York City, and after a bit of time together, sweet Diane grows on the otherwise cold Jack. But there’s a hitch; Diane is about to skip out of the country in a week or so. Jack, predictably, is not pleased, but Diane struggles to keep them together – which is not the easiest thing to do when we find out that Diane’s “newly awakened sexuality” has a tendency to make her a bit more, shall we say, grizzly at times.

Of course, everyone – even Page fans like me – is dubious about this. Herein lies the problem; people are so skeptical about the movie that no one has stepped forward to fund it. It’s important to note that Jack and Diane is NOT a werewolf movie in the slightest. Remember studying metaphor in ninth grade English, guys? That’s what this is about, and Olivia and Ellen say so much in an interview they had with FirstShowing.Net’s Alex Billington.

“But that’s a theme that is actually something that [director Brad Rust Gray] explores in his work – the concept of a girl or a character turning into something provoked by her repressed emotions,” Olivia explains in the interview. “In [Rust Gray's] movie Salt, it’s about a girl and actually it’s based on an Icelandic folktale, this girl turns into a seal. It’s very metaphorical; it’s not a literal metamorphosis that happens.”

I have to admit; I’m skeptical. And worried. Aside from the fact that it sounds like a lesbian version of Brokeback Mountain – with werewolves – it could easily go awry and/or be misconstrued. It sounds fishy, but I also know that right now, the movie hasn’t even begun to be filmed yet. There’s no real firm basis for me to go off on. And though the concept sounds risky, I like risky. It’s new and isn’t really something that’s been done before. So I continue to have a blind faith in Jack and Diane. Hopefully, someone else will too.

Preferably someone with money.