A Letter To Men

There is almost nothing more important to us than our music. If you walk into our home, get into our car, shuffle through our iPod, please refrain from turning your nose up at what you hear. Nasty comments about Justin Timberlake will have a similar effect to you pinching the fat of our upper arms and commenting on the flabbiness. Plus, we don’t judge you for your Akon collection (openly).

We’re always listening, even if you don’t believe we are. We hear what you say in our sleep, from across the house, when we’re sitting in the car and you’re two blocks over. Our ears are super sonic. That comment about how great our tits are to your best friend under your breath when we walk in the room just may make tonight’s blow job a bit more energetic. Muttering “damn” while watching our waitress walk away however, may cause us to use a bit more teeth than necessary.

Don’t assume. Those days in which you just cannot please us no matter what you do, we are not necessarily PMSing, and attributing our mood to that will do more harm than good. It’s possible that we dreamed that we walked in on you fucking another woman and it was so realistic that we can’t relinquish the crazy anger it caused us to feel , but we can’t really tell you what we’re mad about either now can we? Be patient, it will pass, and trust that we are very sorry and realize that you wouldn’t really do that.

You should read more. No matter how often or how much you read, you should read more. We mean books, not magazines or blogs or mail. Every time we see you reading we get lady boners.

Other women exist and we expect you to notice them. You can look if you like: we are confident that what’s in your pants, in your chest, underneath that lovely head of hair we like to run our hands over – it all belongs to us. Just be sure to learn the difference between looking and ogling. It’s hurtful; to sit beside you, but you can’t take your eyes off of the girl in the red dress. Sure, her curves are killer, but last time we checked, she didn’t have anything we didn’t and she wasn’t the one getting naked inside and out for you later tonight.

Learn to get your way. It’s not just us that are masters of manipulation. If you really want us to go to the bar to watch the world cup with your friends but we want to stay in and cuddle and listen to bob dylan and smoke pot, turn on your charm. Narrow those beautiful eyes of yours, put your hands on our waist and press your pelvis into us; lower that voice and whisper “please” in our ear a couple of times. See if we’re not handing you a PBR and leaning across the table to kiss you when your team scores within the next hour.

Don’t judge our book by the cover. Yes, our shirt has puffy sleeves, and our lipgloss is pink, our curls are in place, but we like comic books and punk rock. We will muss our hair up head banging to black flag, we will stand in line all day to have Alan Moore sign our first edition volume of from hell. On the other hand, our sneakers are dirty, our left arm is covered in tattoos, our face is bare, but underneath this t-shirt and pair of jeans is set of lavender colored lace underwear that will make your head explode.

You have places on your body equivalent to our cleavage. We like it when you wear your jeans low so that lifting your arms exposes the muscles at your sides, you know; the bottom of those obliques. The “V”. There are few things sexier that that. Except maybe when you take your hoodie off by pulling on the collar behind your neck and it lifts your shirt up with it. That’s pretty fucking hot too.

When you kiss our bodies, do it right. Part your lips a little; use just the tip of your tongue. Do not peck us – you are not kissing our cheeks. Do not wide mouth our flesh – you are not kissing our mouth. Bonus points if you scratch us lightly with your fingernails and catch us between your teeth as you work your way down our back or up our inner thighs.

Compliment us often, but change it up. You are capable of far more than “you’re so hot”, so act like it. Choose a feature, a characteristic, a quirk that you find irresistible and tell us; be specific. If you love it when we bite our bottom lip as we concentrate on moving the joysticks in the correct succession when playing modern warfare 2, or how we glide on our tip toes across your floor at night so we don’t disturb you, even though you’re already awake, tell us. We like that.