That’s right. I’m rockin’ it old-school this month. Please, hold your applause until you’ve read your pitiful fortune; I’m feeling a bit grouchy this morning.

Aries (March 21-April 19)
Have you come into a new relationship lately? This person may seem too good to be true. I’m seeing lots of “the one!” floating around my crystal ball. Of course, this could mean one of two things. First, and most obvious, is that you’ve actually met someone substantial in this world of shitballs. Second, and most likely, is that you’ve fallen prey to someone’s cunning ploy to snag you for all eternity. If the former is the case, I wholeheartedly congratulate you (and simultaneously resent you). If it’s the latter, you’ll likely never even know the truth of your horrible situation until it’s too late. But at least there’s misery in company, right? Good luck with your big decision!

Taurus (April 20-May 20)
Ah, Taurus. Still trying to play the cool, enigmatic kid from high school, aren’t you? I know, you probably don’t know that you’re doing it. Or perhaps you know full well, but you’re just playing it safe. Either way, you have an important decision to make. It’s one thing to have some hesitations about it, but it’s another to ride the fence and chicken out on a dedicated decision. You’re a smart person, too, so I really don’t need to be telling you much of this. Sometimes we all need a little reminder though, right?

Gemini (May 21-June 21)
Your fragility is really showing as of late. The problem is that everyone knows that you have a specific plan. You’ve got an established agenda. So when there’s no follow-through, people are kind of left scratching their heads. Scratching their heads and contemplating some kind of intervention to get you to increase your dosage of Wellbutrin, you psycho. This month, you’re your own worst enemy. The path is clear if you follow through with your actions. It takes a bit of courage, but you’ve got that, whether you believe it or not. It takes as much energy to whine as it does to ball up, my Gemini.

Cancer (June 22-July 22)
Ok, you’re in the midst of an emotional maelstrom, so I’m going to go easy on you, Cancer. I’m not even going to go on and on about how you kind of did this to yourself, which, you definitely kinda did, because that’s just counterproductive at this point. Regardless of what has happened, you need to take control over the next few weeks. Be strong, bitch! What transpires from this point forward is fully in your hands. Moreso, how you handle what happens and how you learn from the experience is fully on you. You may, for instance, decide to become a lesbian or disown your children. Of course, either of these would be completely moronic, but, hey. It’s up to you.

Leo (July 23-August 22)
Your passions are going to be ablaze this month, Leo. This is not to say that they aren’t normally a raging inferno, but for some reason, your vested interest in something has got you in prime form. I have a feeling that you’re going to be too hot for most to handle, and this will inhibit the procurement of that which you so fervently desire. I’m cautious to suggest anything because, frankly, I’m a bit scared about what might come of any advice that rubs you the wrong way. At the very least, practice your breathing techniques. And maybe give your loved ones a fair warning. Don’t you have a public emergency alert system in place for months like this?

Virgo (August 23-September 22)
Ok, earth child. You’ve got this walking contradiction thing going on this month and it’s kind of irritating. If anything you’re mirroring Gemini’s foolish ways this month; a situation that will get you nowhere fast. Normally, you’re full of some healthy paradoxes. They keep you on your toes and living with your eyes wide open. But you’re definitely introverting, and I’m a bit concerned about where this may lead you. I think your best bet this month is to spend some time with friends. You know, get out in your element and embibe yourself on the very things that make life worth living. These things, of course, are entirely at your discretion.

Libra (September 23-October 22)
The gas prices, the President, the wars, the poverty, the hunger. These are just a taste of what weighs you down on a daily basis, aren’t they? But Libra, what exactly is this doing for anyone? You need an awakening and I’m about to hand deliver exactly that. (You may want to sit yourself down.) Here it is, in a nutshell. Your life, as it is now progressing, has two possible outcomes. The first is that you remain slotted in your idealistic ways and ever remain a bitter, enraged, sexually frustrated, and possibly bicurious woman that cannot quite make a stance in this ever-turbulent world. The second option, which may look a bit more appealing, is that you get over this utopian shit and just get a bit more fucking jaded like the rest of us. A healthy dose of realism is just what the doctor ordered. You’re not (reapeat: NOT) going to save the world.

Scorpio (October 23-November 21)
Here’s the thing. No one likes a fragile, low self-esteem filled woman. She doesn’t even like herself. On the other hand, a pretentious, overly confident person is equally–if not moreso–hateful as the weakling. I’m hear to tell you that your arrogance will run rampant this month. The problem is that your pride will prevent you from even realizing any of which I warn. I suppose you’ll just have to trust your dear girlspoke psychic on this one. You simply must find a common ground with your peers if you want to move forward with any of your goals this month. Maybe pretend that you’re actually a bit ugly or a bit annoying. That may help you get into character.

Sagittarius (November 22-December 21)
In the words of your beloved Paris Hilton, you are so hot right now! Or is it so sexy? Regardless, this month is your month to shine. Do you have a big event coming up? Some big pitch at work? A personal milestone? Whatever the next few weeks hold in store for you, I’m sure you’re going to sail through with the best possible results. I suggest you ease your anxiety with some self-indulgence. Just don’t get all high on yourself like Scorpio up there. That, in fact, will ruin everything.

Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
Capricorn, I’m getting the notion that you’re focusing a bit too much on your image this month. Reputation is important, but it will not make or break you this month. Rather than keeping your collar straight or your hemline just so, you should be letting your gorgeous hair down for once in your damn life. Honestly, you’re on the verge of becoming dull. This is a quick fix, though. You’ll be amazed at how liberating a carefree weekend can be. Not only will it restore the love and admiration that others have in you, but it will also recharge your own inner batteries. No one can be a Jackie O all the time. In fact, even she got a little crazy now and then. Didn’t you hear about those rumors? Totally true.

Aquarius (January 20-February 18)
You will play an important role in someone’s life this month, Aquarius. Your natrual tendency to be cheery in spite of rain, and all that other hippie bullshit is going to be a tremendous asset. So don’t lose sight of your high spirits this month, no matter what you may encounter. Your strenght will be essential to the sustainment of another’s sanity and well being. While I normally find your chipper spirit a tad on the annoying side, I will give you full credit for being a full-on rockstar this month. You’re selfless and giving, and that’s nothing anyone can knock.

Pisces (February 19-March 20)
Demure is written all over your face this month, Pisces. For the past few months, you’ve been more vocal than usual and this has opened up new doors for you. And while you may feel a natural pull back to silence, I’m not so sure that this is the wisest decision. There are still some things you need to explore with a partner. Experiencing a setback, or many, is certainly discouraging. But instead of getting defensive or just shutting down completely, I highly encourage you to battle on. You have what it takes, so keep with it, my sweet fishy!

You know what? My mood is lifting already! A lot of you have some serious shit going on this month, and hopefully my words will either give you that swift kick in the ass, or that gentle whisper of encouragement (Get the fuck with it!) to help you through. Until next month, my loves…

What up? This has been such an exciting week. Today we are officially launching a brand new website in the Spoke family of sites: Dirtyspoke.

“Meme, Jenna and Heather have joined forces to bring to you their thoughts and ramblings on the world of sex blogging.”

“Featured weekly on Playboy Radio, they have spent countless hours perusing the world of sex, perversions and confessionals that sex bloggers share with us all…for free.”

Dirtyspoke is a site dedicated to our Playboy Radio show and the world of sex blogging. Guaranteed to scintillate, maybe even cause involuntary pant-dropping.

While you’re at it go read my interview over at Blog Herald. And don’t miss the heartwrenching expose/psychological quiz on chartreuse (BETA).

We love you all and now we’re bringing you a sort of girlspoke++, we hope you like it and come back often. Now shut up and go have a fucking hot fabulous weekend, you pant-dropping pervert.

Myspace is the Devil: Part One

Okay, I’m throwing it all out there. In the name of your entertainment and the greater good, I am doing what no one else admits to unless they are severely intoxicated or….well, severely intoxicated. Myspace stalking.

Yes, yes, I know, not a wholly foreign concept but one that deserves a little reflection nonetheless. My question of the day is how the hell did people stalk their Exes, stay out of jail, and maintain a veneer of sanity, before Myspace?

I don’t think they did. The way it used to be, you were either a full fledged stalker, doing drive by’s and frequenting old haunts, or you were relegated to drowning in a sea of love letters and old pictures with tear stained cheeks and bags of cheetos. One is considered a sane way to deal with a break up, the other comes with a jail sentence (if you’re stupid enough to get caught). Now, in the age of the internets, it’s a whole different ball game people. Combine a broken heart with anonymous voyeurism, strike that – UNLIMITED anonymous voyeurism, and you’ve got a cramp in your finger from refreshing your Ex’s page every five fucking minutes. Now, thanks to Myspace, there is a socially acceptable version of stalking that is just as unhealthy as the actual stalking but somehow is fully sanctioned by the local authorities. Great, thanks Rupert, much appreciated.

Being a sane individual (ahem), I would never engage in the aforementioned activities that could land me in jail. A) I’m actually not crazy and B) that sounds like a lot of work. But thanks to good ol’ Myspace I am currently in a hell of my own making, unable to tear myself away from the computer and all it’s voyeuristic glory. And evidently, I’m not the only one. After several “Me too!” conversations with my friends, we have a hypothesis that Myspace singlehandedly extends “getting over it” time by at least two months. Now, as someone who clearly hasn’t “gotten over it” I can’t speak from experience, but by the sample size in my friend group I think it’s a pretty solid analysis. All I know is that it’s turning me into a nutjob.

Think about it, not only do you get to see all the new pictures of your Ex looking good and having all kinds of fun new experiences WITHOUT you, but you also get to read flirty comments on their page. When before in the history of Ex’s were people ever subjected to WATCHING day after day the flirtation between an Ex and their prospective lovers? Oh, the agony. And don’t even tell me you can stop. That’s just absurd, once you find that shit out you’re really going to STOP LOOKING? Please. It’s like a goddamn train wreck and you’re hanging around checking out the carnage, so don’t even go there with me, it’s insulting.

Of course, then there’s the clicking. Clickety click, bloody click, and the next thing you know you are at their new ho-bag’s page and you get to look at all the witty things she says in her “About Me” section and see that she likes all the same music as him and then throw up all over yourself. Then of course you look at her pictures and spend fifteen minutes convincing yourself that “She is SO not as cute as me. UGH.”

See? We’re having fun! Wasn’t this just a great idea? Sweet baby jesus help you if she/he’s got a blog, that’s just a night of binge drinking waiting to happen. Because the other fucked up part about it is that they KNOW you read it, watch it, check it every minute of the goddamn day and THAT gives them the power of deception (which you can also utilize of course) meaning that it is fully likely that they are NOT as happy, horny, onward looking and over you as they seem. They are most likely selecting pictures with the utmost care, approving comments with abandon and mendaciously crafting their “About Me” section so as to put their best foot forward and make you feel like total shit in the meantime.

Or, they could really not give two shits and it’s all the total truth. Cause that’s fun. So you see, there’s really no upside to Myspace stalking, it’s a pretty lose/lose situation, kind of like buying a K-fed album or having sex with Danny Devito, (shudder). Either they don’t care and they’re moving on and you’re the pathetic wretch still checking their Myspace, or they do care and something’s wrong that sure ain’t gonna get fixed by any amount of stalking or online deception. So, in conclusion, ladies and gentleman of the jury - Myspace is the Devil.

For today’s post please refer back to last Wednesday’s post.

On another note, every once in a while you find something on the innernets that makes you question the validity of this whole web democracy we have going on here. Shouldn’t some people be restrained, or is it really okay how many people are allowed to just post their crap out there. Case in point: We got a new cat tree! (notice the exclamation point and tell me if that clever example of punctuation means this is more exciting than someone telling me “I’ve won the lottery!”) I mean shouldn’t there be social contracts in place so the internet doesn’t become ‘nasty, brutish, and short’? Oh, fuck it. I don’t really believe that because I know I’d be the first to get shut down not those cat lovers and all their picture posting. Fucking democracy.

Then every once in a while you’re reading your fan email and you come across a picture some guy has sent you as an expression of his deep feelings for you.

Even better is when you notice that the picture is named “You and I”.

Last night on the G-Chat with my friend “greg” …

me: try HARDER
dammit
what do i write about for girlspoke romorrow?
tomorrow
greg: haha
me: what do girls want to know
greg: i just got HARDER
me: uh
on account of what?
greg: sorry, im an idiot
i phrased that sentence poorly
me: actually making guys hard is an ok topic
greg: whats too early to notice an erection?
me: huh?
greg: when is it ok for a girl to noticea guys erection?
me: when she wants his dick
i guess
whats that question mean?
greg: lets say youre out on a date
and its the walk back home
that leads to the kiss
at what point in this walk is it ok to get an erection?
this might be too guy centric a topic
me: see i find it surprising that it’s ever not ok
if she’s into you, she probably loves the idea that you have one
i think its a compliment
if shes not into you she wont like it
i think thats the bottom line
but its never not ok
greg: youre very progrssive on the subject
me: i mean its a bodily thing you cant control i think
greg: thats CORRECT
BUT
girls dont always get that so well
me: really?
i am surprised to learn this
greg: what im trying say is i get boners EVerYWHER
me: still?
greg: ive had a constant erection since 9th grade
me: thats a good thing
its a sign of youth
has a woman ever commented on it in a negative way?
you should be proud of this
greg: i am
me: it means you are verile
greg: ive had girlfriends get tired of i think
girls are so fuckin sexy
they can do like anything
its hot
me: thats funny
and not true
greg: its completely true
me: want to list things?
popping zits
pooping
stabbing themselves
greg: pooping isnt awful
me: rubbing dead rats in their mouths
greg: hahaha
thats hot
you just turned me on
me: beating the shit out of you
greg: keep talking dirty
me: shooting themselves in the foot with a shotgun
greg: youre so self destrucitve baby
i love it
me: smooshing rotten bologne in their fingers and then having their water break
greg: wow
will you marry me
me: dripping sheep intestines out of their vaginas
fucking your parents in a threesome
using word perfect
building a wooden box around their body
greg: keep it coming wifey
me: wearing elderly people as clothing
greg: i want to grow old with you and have you do that to me on my death bed
me: having bloody boogers all on their upper lip
greg: im going to cast a large budget porno based on this idea
me: shoveling fetuses into their hair
diving into piles of rusty nails and then bleeding onto books about the holocaust
greg: the holocaust isnt funny
me: harvesting squash in their pores
greg: but i have an erection anyway
me: fucking themselves with a bloody cock that was ripped off a human
greg: ok-
im tired of this game
me: did I win?
greg: because apparently, im not that attracted to girls
yea
you did

Dear Stan,

I know we don’t talk much, but I thought we should open up our lines of communication. You see, often times, it seems like you and I talk more than my boyfriend and I talk–and he and I live together! I know, crazy, right? Well, it has to do with your bellowing voice. It is regal, I’ll give you that. Totally royal. It’s just that when I’m sitting down watching a movie or reading a book, it can be unsettling to hear you tell your girlfriend that she’s a stupid bitch. I mean, I’m sure she is a total wench, but that’s besides the point.

I mean, I guess that must be why you park your 1984 Rabbit on an angle in the parking lot. It’s totally reasonable to take up two parking spots, even if you only drive the thing about once a week! I’d be worried that your insane, stupid, worthless girlfriend might open her car door and chip that lovely aluminum paint job you’ve got going.

Another thing is your sinus problem, Stan. I mean, I’m really concerned about your health lately. You seem to have an excessive amount of mucus in your throat and nose and it’s well past allergy season. Don’t get me wrong; it’s totally great that you spend many hours of your day clearing said mucus with ferocity and determination. Show that snot who’s the damn boss, Stan!

I guess it’s good to know that you’re still enjoying yourself despite the health and girlfriend issues. In fact, it’s really nice to know that I don’t have to watch the Yankees play all the time because, based on your maniacal yelling, I can tell who’s winning! And that surround sound system you’ve got must really heighten the experience of your nightly movies. I’d be jealous if you weren’t so kind enough to share with us!

In the end, I think maybe I’d suggest some nice relaxation techniques. It may help with your stress. Yes, of course I know you’re stressed! I can hear the weight on your shoulders as it resonates down through your heavy feet. Especially in the bedroom. For some reason I hear you pounding around a lot in there. Oh wait a second! I’m so embarrassed! That must be you and the lovely lady enjoying your relaxation, together! Sorry to intrude!

So, about that letter you left on my door…the one about slamming the door when James, the boyfriend, was simply trying to fix the deadbolt at about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. I am so not going to hold that against you. Nor will I bring to mind that time that you screamed down obscenities about our laughter that time that we both had our balcony doors open. I’m here to tell you that I know you must have it rough. I mean, I’m practically privy to your every. single. move.

So, thanks Stan. Thanks for being so open. For sharing so much of yourself. For just being you.

Your neighbor,
Jenna

Ah Friday. I can think of no better day to offer up another Girlfriend For A Day, in fact I’m feeling generous and I’m going to make it Girlfriend for a Weekend. Imagine that, you can have me for 2 entire days…not ONE, but TWO. Wow. I know what you’re thinking, “How much more would this cost me?” And I’m here to tell you, “Well, about double.”

• Package A: aka Laundry weekend. I haven’t done my laundry in a few weeks so we spend all weekend doing laundry. You may think this gives you the opportunity to lounge around and watch sports, but no, I also tivo’d the entire season of some heinous makeover show and we’re watching it start to finish. Oh, and I don’t put out unless I have clean underwear so maybe if you haven’t run for the hills you might get lucky Sunday night, probably not. $49.99
• Package B: the so-called weekend getaway. We go somewhere for the weekend, maybe the Hamptons or the Shore. You have to plan everything, rental car, hotel, meals, etc. On the car drive out I pick a fight with you, probably over something stupid like the music you’re playing or the annoying way you tap your hands on the steering wheel or how you never use your turn signal or the ugly fucking shirt you’re wearing or how you told your buddies they could meet up with us or how you won’t fill up the gas tank till it’s practically on empty. God you’re an asshole. $79.99 (Cost of car, hotel, food not included)
• Package C: we’ll call this one the lost weekend. We start out Friday night at some seedy bar on the Lower East Side. Next thing you know you’re waking up and it’s Sunday afternoon. But trust me you had a good time and you are one crazy dude. $39.99
• Package D: your chance to hop in the heart shaped bed. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, never again will this offer be extended, one time and one time only. Here’s the deal. You get to spend the entire weekend rolling around the luxurious heart-shaped bed, feel the red velvet duvet against your bare skin, nuzzle your face into 500 different pillows scattered about, view yourself from mirror on the ceiling, and drink margaritas from the tap conveniently located on the headboard. You will never feel so pampered in your life. $299.99 (oh, I forgot to mention this is only available the weekend that all the girlspoke girls will be at their yearly girlspoke summit in an undisclosed location. But our man-servant will be there to attend to all your needs)

This is going to be short, mostly because I’m tired, hungover, and generally unpleasant. Earlier this week I was reminded yet again of why life would be so much easier if I were a lesbian.

So you’ve heard the joke right?

What does the one lesbian bring with her on the second date with another lesbian?

A U-Haul.

Hardee har har. Funny you think. Hyperbole you think. Exaggeration you think. Wrong. It’s about one step away from complete reality.

About fifty percent of my female friends in San Francisco are lesbians. Before you go getting all Fantasy Island on my shit, no, I’m not hooking up with any of them. When I first moved here I worked at a women’s rights non-profit and now I play on a women’s soccer team. Do the math. It’s San Francisco.

Basically the point is that all of them at one point or another have shocked the proverbial pants off me with how quickly they dive into committed relationships, or just relationships in general. I swear to Christ, I literally introduced one friend to another via Myspace a WEEK ago and despite the fact that one lives in L.A. and the other in New York they are already talking about how in love they are and just to put a little action to those words, homegirl from nyc is coming to visit next week. I shit you not. Another friend of mine met a girl at a bar on Friday, took her home, slept with her, by Sunday they were inseparable and have been together ever since. This is NOT the exception to the rule people, this is the motherfucking rule.

Here in Straightland you date a guy for six months, leave a toothbrush at his house and you’d think you were aiming a scud missiles at his baby-maker; major peace talks must ensue and you have to assure him repeatedly that NO you do not expect an engagement ring anytime in the near future. GOD FORBID you be so presumptuous as to assume that this “thing” has potential for a relationship that could end in….gasp…commitment.

My friend M started dating a girl, they had been dating for about a month when she excitedly called to tell me that they had exchanged I-love-yous. Happy for her, but a little skeptical at the accelerated pace of the relationship (I had been dating a guy for six months and still hadn’t heard it) I said, “Wow, that was kinda fast huh?”. Almost offended she replied, “Lo, it’s been, like, a month”. Which immediately resulted in gnashing of teeth and tequila shots as I tried to figure out WHY THE HELL DOESN’T HE LOVE ME! Cry, sob, realize that they’re LESBIANS, and it is DIFFERENT. Women in general have the ability to express emotions unceasingly and without reservation, they also love the comfort of commitment and the stability of a partner. Mix two together and stir, voila. A commitment martini.

Though it still irks me every once in a while that emotional bonds can be formed so quickly and so easily between women and it takes a lot more work with the opposite sex, the fact remains that if you’re dating a girl, inevitably you will both be PMS’ing at the SAME TIME. No amount of accelerated I love yous can make up for the torment that is two estrogen charged women in an emotionally volatile relationship when aunt flow comes to town. If you’ve ever seen two lesbians in the throes of relationship jihad you know what I’m talking about. That shit is DRAMATIC. I am of the firm belief that I have MORE than enough emotion and neuroses for an entire relationship, add another me to the mix and I’d need a shotgun. Seriously.

I think this one is self-fucking-explanatory. Have fun!

Some say the world may be ending and all these guys keep shooting at each other and blowing stuff up and it’s pretty bad, you know?

Just look! Here - Cnn tells me lots of bad things.

Sex is more important now in these times of war than you can ever know. It’s simple, really. We’re all going to die and we need to be thinking about who our last man on earth sexytime partner will be. Whenever you enter a room, scope out which person you would do if you had to do one person in that room. Be prepared. When emergency or doom strikes, you’ve got to be ready. Who doesn’t want to be moaning away those last precious moments when you inhabit the flesh?

You cityfolk, wrapped up in your ambitions and obsession with boring stuff that involves various suit wearing and being on time for meetings with people you’d rather not meet, as you stand there talking about things you don’t care about and never will …

Realize that time is ticking away till there are tender few days that are truly yours and yours alone!
Play with yourself!!!
Put your mouth somewhere cool!
Make that ass bounce!

Don’t blow things up- blow your mind- with the power of orgasms.

It’s easy math: Apocalypse = Urgent sex

There’s nothing more visceral, so before your mind leaves your body, make the most of it.

When life gives you lemons, put em in your pussy.

(You know, if you think it would feel nice, oh I just wanted to say that really … not that I would put lemons in there unless the lemons maybe vibrated or weren’t lemons but actually a human penis attached to a nice young man I guess. But if you like the idea of lemons in there then, you know … that’s cool. I’m not going to judge or anything.)

PS- You can see me talk kind of like this person if ya like. I’ll be performing tonight at Mo Pitkins on Avenue A and 3rd in NYC during Chicks N Giggles at 8pm. More info at www.heatherfink.com.