I’m generally not a demanding girlfriend.  My requests are small, involving being somewhat tidy and helpful around my apartment (especially when he spends 80% of his time there) and cooperative and enthusiastic when we make plans together.  Seriously…that’s it.  However, I still run into issues.  Toilet seats get left up, hands don’t get washed (gaaaaaahhhh), crusted dishes are left out, and my man turns into a whiny mess whenever I take him shopping.

This could all be a thing of the past now that I’ve learned of a glorious new tool:  alcohol.  Apparently, some clothing stores are starting to serve alcohol to patrons while they shop.  These stores tend to be catered to the male population and focused on catering to the individual customer’s needs.  Men relax after a couple drinks, eliminating the social awkwardness that comes from shopping and actually taking time to think which color would go best with their eyes and the rest of their wardrobe.

Wait – all this time I’ve been passive aggressively trying to make my boyfriend clean his stubble out of my sink and I could have just been plying him with alcohol to get the job done?  Oh. My. Gawd.  I have seen the light!  Now my relationships will flow sweetly on the back of the bubbly deliciousness that is beer.

I have to wonder, though, how far alcoholic inducement will take me.  Everyone knows that after drinking a certain amount, you can be incredibly useless.  Everyone also knows that after drinking a certain amount, you can be witty, charming, intelligent, relaxed, and organized.  What if I overdo it? Then I’ll be cleaning up a mess worse than a sink full of a dishes.

Perhaps this alcohol idea isn’t so great.  It might be good every now and then as a encouragement (or a fun activity…cleaning + alcohol = win), but I think I’ll leave the art of alcoholic coercion to the masters of retail.  They can make my boyfriends into metrosexual fashionistas any time they want!  Goodness knows that I don’t need a drink to get me to start buying things…although if I had a couple in me, I would probably have a few more pairs of harem pants and silk rompers in my closet.  And probably a mumu or two (I’ll be drinking, don’t judge me).

Life doesn’t come equipped with an orchestra. If your sexcapades, like your iTunes, are on shuffle, here are a few songs you probably don’t want on your playlist.

1. “Dat Baby”–Shawty Putt feat. Lil Jon

With a chorus of “Dat baby don’t look like me,” and an opening line, “Dat baby ain’t mine… I’m sorry, bitch you heard Maury,” this jam is an instant libido-killer. The last thing a guy wants to hear as he’s sliding into home base is “You are NOT the father!” Sure, you’re using protection, but condoms aren’t 100% effective…paternity tests, on the other hand, don’t lie. Besides, no woman wants to find out that her cute college hookup won’t take responsibility if an accident does happen.

2. “You’re Pretty When I’m Drunk”– Bloodhound Gang

You can kick yourself in the morning when you sober up and realize that the guy you brought home from the bar last night looks nothing like David Beckham (actually, he more closely resembles Danny DeVito), so you don’t need Jimmy Pop saying “I told you so.” Besides, lines like “I’m hungry like the wolf, but I’ll end up taming cattle,” and “it wouldn’t be the first time that I gave a dog a bone,” though satirical, are pretty harsh. As liberated, self-respecting women, we know we’re pretty when he’s sober, too, inside and out.

3. “John Wayne Gacy, Jr.”– Sufjan Stevens

If you didn’t know that this song is about the infamous serial killer, you might think the gentle ballad sets the mood. However, if your ears perk up at the lines, “And in my best behavior, I am really just like him/ Look underneath the floor boards for the secrets I have hid,” you’ll probably get creeped out, and ask yourself how well you really know the guy who’s jamming his tongue down your throat.

4. “UR So Gay”– Katy Perry

Straight guys will go flacid as soon as Ms. Perry belts her titular accusation in the chorus. They won’t even listen to the following line, “you don’t even like boys.” Homophobic or not, men don’t like to have their sexualities questioned. Besides, the whole song is an angry letter to a shallow metrosexual. You would never want your lover to “hang [himself] with an H & M scarf,” now, would you?

5. “MmmBop”– Hanson

This song will actually probably cause many social situations to take a turn down Embarrassment Alley. If you’re a closet Hanson fan, that’s fine. But your guy might not appreciate your “special” quirks.

Any I missed?

Research Psychologists at Northumbria University used computer technology to alter the photos of men’s faces to reflect different stages of facial hair- clean-shaven, light stubble, heavy stubble, light beard and full beard.

The study goes on to state: “In desirability for a short-term relationship, a female preference for male faces with stubble or light beard was found, with clean-shaven and fully bearded faces being the least preferred.” (Editor’s Note: I do love me a 5 o’clock shadow, except when it leaves me with red, irritated skin after a long, steamy makeout sesh.)

Are we biologically programmed to respond favorably to men’s moderate facial hair? Are we socially conditioned to view stubbly guys as ideal mates? Or is this study totally off the rails, using marginal and anecdotal evidence to falsely generalize the preferences of the larger female population?

This study provides some evidence against the so-called rise of the metrosexual, claiming that the moderate manly-man is truly more desirable. But it’s not a black and white issue, and there are so many factors that come into play when accounting for female preferences.

For instance, an individual’s age is a key factor in their evaluation of attractive partners. While a thirty-year-old woman might find a beard a signal of maturity and masculinity, an eighteen-year-old college freshman might find it simply repulsive. And what about how women change? What we find attractive in the opposite sex is much different now than, say, five years ago.

The reason this study bugs me is the marked nature of stereotyping that women want an aggressive and dominant protector. It’s reducing us back to the comical cavewoman, cowering and waiting for a big, strong manly-man to come rescue us. Of course, I might be reading too much into this study- but I really don’t believe the collective attraction of all women can be summed up so cleanly and succinctly. Individual choice and preference is crucial- while your roommate might dig the scrawny, string bean type, maybe you desire meatier men with shaved heads.

In addition, their study reflects on visual attraction alone, but when was the last time you dated someone based purely on their looks? We have all sweated over the gorgeous guy who turns out to be as dumb as a rock, or the average-looking nerdy boy who turns out to be wildly sweet and romantic. Looks don’t tell the whole story- and neither does this study.

What do you think?

I just need enough that when I’m wrapped around said man in passionate or casual embrace that he really and truly feels like a man and not a ken doll. For all the sexual response they garner from me, hairless men could just as well have Ken’s reproductive situation, if you catch my drift.

I’m not asking for a skunk ape here, I’m merely stating that I think men should retain a certain amount of that thing that is so inherently masculine.

That being said, I understand that many women—dare I say, the majority?—do not share my enthusiastic affinity for a lot of hair on men and I’m willing to chalk it up to taste to a certain degree. But for the life of me, I can’t understand why so many men feel it necessary to shave things like their forearms, or their legs, or, heaven forbid, their chests.

Don’t get me wrong, I am a proponent of trimming, especially in the bathing suit region, and I understand the practicality of shaving one’s beard so kissing doesn’t become the battle of the brilloface. I will even concede that mustaches, goatees and other forms of facial hair have not been attractive since, well, ever. And many men who are in to swimming, biking, or running like to shave to make themselves, I guess, faster (more aerodynamic?)

But no hair? Anywhere? I just don’t get it.

I’m not really into the metrosexual thing, and I think that this hairless movement began when the Queer Eye guys introduced the word “metrosexual” into our collective lexicon. Does hairy=dirty now? Or is it just that hairy guys remind certain women of their fathers? Whatever the case, ridding oneself of all ones body hair seems to be grooming to the extreme.

And images of shaved men have been proliferating popular culture lately. Even the Brawny Man has been usurped in favor of a more clean-shaven lumberjack. Try to think back to the last time you saw a hairy guy on the cover of men’s health or on a runway or a television show. And if they are hairy, they are usually from another country, so maybe it’s just an American movement.

Do you like hairless men? What’s the appeal? Let us know!

Boys across the country are laying down their razors and fighting back against metrosexual revolution. It’s back to feeling like we’re kissing mom’s sewing needles.

If you were dating during that small window of metrosexual history, you will remember the trend wasn’t so bad. Did we really mind looking into those faces with trimmed eyebrows and smooth chins? Hell no! Now guys are proud to show their man mess in the face area.

My boyfriend calls his scruff “neck diarrhea”—you know, the kind of beard that only grows loud and proud from the jaw down. But that doesn’t stop him from letting his stubble see the sun way too often.

Beards are back and the grungy lumber jack look is en vogue. From high powered male celebs to that annoying, but oh-so-sensitive poet type, all the dudes are sporting it. I think men were tired of women telling them how to look.

Of course it’s OK for women to have magazines and TV shows and movies and telling us to be hairless. Maybe we ought to fight back. If you’ve got a guy with a beard, how about refusing to shave your legs and pits until he relents and goes running back to the razor?

And if you’re a beard hater, like me, kill the urge and remember it’s not safe to run with scissors. Negotiation is key.

Our next target: the wrath of the ‘stache.

My ex used to tell me, “I see guys in there all the time… it’s so not a big deal.” And my response has always been the same: “show me one guy that I know, or even one guy who’s even remotely like me that goes in there, and if they tell me it’s not a big deal, then I’ll do it.”

I’ve still never received that confirmation, and I still don’t know any other guy who’s ever done it, but I nevertheless decided yesterday that it was time to suck it up and get it over with.

And so…I got a pedicure.

Most of you reading this probably don’t think this is a big deal at all, but I assure you, it is. Think about it… outside of New York City, Los Angeles, and Miami, how many of you actually know a straight guy who is NOT a metrosexual and yet still gets pedicures? Not many of you. Maybe most guys just don’t know any better and still assume that the overall point to getting the pedi is getting your nails painted, but for whatever reason, the serious stigma continues to exist that getting a pedicure somehow shows a sign of homosexuality.

However, I’m here to let everyone know (and girls, you certainly have my permission to show this article to your nappy-footed boyfriends) that getting a pedicure really isn’t a big deal at all.

Let me first admit that I was definitely in an altered state of mind (use your imagination…I’m not sure I could have even gone into the salon if I’d been totally sober), and I went in there with a supportive girl friend, both of which went a long way in lessening my apprehension. And it certainly helped that once it was announced that I wanted a pedicure, I started getting whipped around the salon so quickly that I didn’t even have time to process what was going on.

First things first… why didn’t anyone ever tell me that when you get a pedicure, you get to sit in one of those leather massage chairs?? Hell, I go to Brookstone for no reason whatsoever other than to sit in those chairs! Had I known, I probably would have found my way to the salon a lot sooner.

Let me tell you right now – a video of my face during this experience would have been priceless. I just didn’t know what was coming! You know how they turn on those jets in that tub of water? I almost jumped straight out of the chair! I didn’t know when they wanted me to switch feet, when they wanted me to relax, nothing. Basically, I was like a little kid lost in the mall. I knew I was supposed to be relaxed and enjoying myself, but I was simply too tense to let loose.

Speaking of funny faces, another priceless mugshot appeared when my lady moved to take the razor to the bottom of my feet. I’m not saying that my feet are about to fall off due to leprosy, but they aren’t exactly sleek and smooth either. In any event, it was clear that this lady looked at my feet like a real estate developer looks at an abandoned acre of swampy marshland. My feet were to be her masterpiece, and she proceeded to razor my feet with incredible fervor. Let me tell you, I think I could have my feet scraped all day long. What a great sensation.

As the appointment wound down, and my initial excitement (adrenaline?) began to ebb, I experienced an epiphany. As long as I’m not painting my toes pink (or any other color for that matter), there’s really nothing feminine at all about getting a pedicure. It’s basically just a glorified foot massage, and I don’t know any guys that would turn one of those down. So while I relish in my unexpectedly rejuvenated feet, here’s one straight guy who’s not afraid to stand up and say unequivocally that I get pedicures, and I enjoy it!