Jun Dishes

verb/diSH/ : food or sex or gossip or fiction in real life

I Shake My Head at You Ms. Anna Breslaw

My husband Davy and I had a “date night” last night…

Before I was ever married or had a baby I always thought the term “date night” was so cute but corny. I still think it’s corny. I don’t think it’s cute.

Now that I’m married with a baby I think date night is really code for something else. My husband Davy and I don’t call it a date night unless Noah’s tucked away overnight at grandma’s or grandpa’s. Davy and I don’t fuck around on date nights. Our date nights are anything but cute or corny once dinner and drinks is out of the way. To us, date night is code for get completely fucked up and drop Japanese candle wax on each other at some point in the wee hours of the morning. If some of you reading do similar things then bravo, if some of you think I’m nuts then bravo as well. At least everyone falls into one camp or another. It takes all kinds to make the world go around.

Davy and I have the luxury of all-out date-nights thanks to family with whom we can entrust our little Noah.

So when I read bullshit hype “dick sucking rant” blog posts by girls I was probably very much like and worse, 10 years ago myself (you can read the dick sucking rant blog in question if you’d like)… I just shake my head.

I shake my head at you Ms. Anna Breslaw.

Her blog could have been perfect in 50 words had she not been required to stretch it out for the sake of journalism.


“We don’t need to do it,” says Ms. Breslaw.

Well. Once you start a list of things you don’t need to do then you’ll just end up writing blogs forever about all the things you don’t need to do. Fun.

I applaud Cosmo for all the traffic they’re getting on their site with Ms. Breslaw’s gem, and congratulations to Ms. Breslaw on getting noticed. I look forward to some different writing from Anne with this launch. Twitter’s flutter is an opportunity for fame. And in fact, I DO know someone who does taxes for people, for fun for the cost of a dinner out…

Although it’s true that I don’t have a clitoris in my throat, the anticipation of knowing what’s coming is what blowjobs are about. If they’re not, then you might as well dabble in necrophilia like Ms. Breslaw mentions.

But what do I know about sex and blowjobs?

Always dishing,


Posted under: Reality Dishes

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