Tor's Sex and the City Blog

Episode 00 - “I Give Up!”

At no point do I want to imply that “Sex and the City” is a bad show. I just can’t stand watching it. It’s not for me. If you are one of my five readers, you may have noticed (seriously, thanks for noticing) that my updates have considerably gone down in frequency. (I’m averaging one episode per week.)

I genuinely dread hitting play on the DVD. I don’t want to do it. Maybe their issues with dating don’t hit home for me because I’ve never been a dating guy. In all honesty, I’m a relationship guy. I’m happily married and don’t foresee ever not being so.

There are only so many blog entries that I can be “Jerk Kevin” (also a fine Caribbean dish) and still feel good about myself. Granted, it is fun to sign on and find new creative ways to be horrible to a woman in some crazy relationship scenario. The problem is that no matter how many different ways I do that, I’m still just being horrible to a woman and the shock value is bound to wear off with that awful repetition.

So, thank you for reading this. I’m not taking it down as some of these are good writing samples. I hope you will join me for my next blog. 

Take care,
Kevin Tor

After two and a half seasons, I was a Charlotte.

Episode 35 - “No Ifs, Ands, Or Butts”

Carrie wonders what are the deal breakers in a relationship. What is it about a new potential partner that screams there’s no future for us and we must end it immediately? I have forty-three deal breakers, myself. They range from the basic no smoking (unless it’s describing yo ass in dem jeans) to the more unique no using Vinnie Delpino’s name in vain. (Do you know how hard it is to have Doogie’s back? Do you?!?)

Anyway, after smoking, my second biggest deal breaker is back talk. Sometimes when I get too many fuzzy navels in me, I become belligerent and uppity. It leads to some harsh words and terrible name-calling. Is that any reason to yell and call me a name back? No. The answer’s no. Seriously, I cannot take a woman who stands up for herself. What an awful trait. (I think I just got a shiver up my spine.)

The third biggest deal breaker is a sense of self worth. There’s nothing worse than sitting at a restaurant and rhetorically asking a woman how her day was and having her try to answer. Like I actually care how her day was. Me asking that question is my way of getting from one thought of mine to another. It’s like an “um.”  Was there a twinkle in my eye that she misinterpreted as genuine interest? Because I think that was just the reflection of the pendant nestled between her magnificent rack.

My deal breakers may overlap with some of yours but the simple truth is: without them, we wouldn’t find that special someone who’s perfect for us. Like me and a girl that wants to eat her meal at the same time I’m eating mine? Oil and water, readers. Oil and water.

I’m a Charlotte because I’ve tried and failed to fix a bad kisser.

Episode 34 - “Boy, Girl, Boy, Girl”

Carrie wonders if the opposite sex has become obsolete in a world where men can be with men and women can be with women. Medically, no. Biologically, also no. However, for the purposes of this blog, let’s imagine it has. The following is a eulogy addressed to a room full of straight men:

Who needs women? Am I right fellas? Those collective groans of confusion will be taken as a “Yes, you are right.” Women were a fad for the last many thousand years. And like all great fads, it’s time to toss women in the bin with the Furby and the platform shoes with the live fish in them. Maybe one day you can sell your woman for a lot of money on Ebay. Everything does come around again.

That’s not to say women won’t be missed. They will. And not because of their smooth legs because men can shave one of theirs and feel like they are sleeping with a one-legged woman. And not because of their chests because men can get their own implanted if they are so inclined. And not because of their lower regions because there are adult toys for that.

No, they will be missed because they challenged men to be the best they can be. Women pushed us to work hard to create a world where we didn’t need women. Now, we got our wish. Without them, what are we going to fight for?

Goodbye, women. We will miss you.

I’m a Carrie because I’ve kissed Dave Coulier and therefore we’ve both kinda kissed Alanis Morrissette.

Episode 33 - “Attack Of The 5’10” Woman”

Carrie wonders if there are women in New York who are there just to make other women feel bad about themselves? Yes. And I put them there. Suck it, opposite sex.

Episode 32 - “Politically Erect”

Miranda makes a pro and con list about Steve in which the pros ultimately win because he tells her he loves her. Super. Why do we make pro and con lists for people? It didn’t work on Friends for Ross when he was torn between Julie and Rachel and it probably won’t work here for Miranda and Steve (I hope I’m wrong).

A pro and con list can’t go well. Let’s say you have a child. Six years old. Pros: Smart, cute, good at kickball, well behaved. Cons: leukemia, no future, impending emptiness, doesn’t eat his vegetables. When you line those up, does it matter that he has your eyes? Should you even keep him? That list says no to both questions.

Fortunately, everyone in the world doesn’t make lists. Some of us go with gut feelings. Some of us flip a coin. Some of us cut off a finger and hang the stub over a glass of water and interpret the red and clear swirl.

We all have our things but no matter what we use (gut, heads or tails, blood swirl), at least it’s not as judgmental as a pro/con list. Am I saying people who make pro/con lists hate children with cancer? Yes. Yes, I am.

I’m a Samantha because I vote based on a candidate’s attractiveness as well. You’re welcome, Christie Todd Whitman. Grrrrrr.

Episode 31 - “Where There’s Smoke…”

Charlotte makes the statement leading Carrie to wonder if deep down, all women just want to be rescued. An increasing number of women are strong, independent, and some other adjective meaning uppity and a threat to men. But do they still regress to that childhood fantasy of being a princess and wanting a white (meaning good, not Caucasian) knight to come rescue them?

Who cares? What about me? Maybe, deep down (or shallow up top), I want to be rescued too. Life is scary. Why can’t a woman hold me and tell me everything is going to be all right? Why do I have to hold her and lie about her future wellbeing? It gets tiring being a macho man like myself. Ask Hugh Jackman or George Clooney or Hellga on American Gladiators.

Maybe we can switch off. If women want equality with men, they should do the saving for a while. Once the number of women saves equals the number of male saves going back to the dawn of time, we can have an alternating schedule. I’ll be the knight Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and every other Sunday.

In the meantime, get on your horse, princess, there’s a knight trapped in a tower and it’s your turn to do the saving.

Episode 30 - “Ex And The City”

Carrie wonders whether you can be friends with an ex. The simple answer is no. As a stereotypical male, there is no reason to remain friends with an ex. Friendship is a means to an end. Once you get that end, you’re finished. It’s like buying a tub of butter. Sure, all of those dinner rolls were good but who wants to keep an empty woman?

For argument’s sake, let’s say you become friends with your ex. What are you going to talk about? Sitting across from her at our friend dinner, all I’d be thinking about is how I used to hit that before it got boring. As she babbles on about what she’s been up to since the break-up, I’ll start having PSD-induced flashbacks about how horrible it was to have to act interested in her all those many months ago. I just got a shiver. It’s not worth it. You should be using that time to make friends with a new girl not wasting it on someone you learned more about than you wanted to.

You can’t be friends with an ex. I believe I rest my case. And that case rests on a table made out of the broken hearts of all my previous girlfriends. It’s pretty sturdy and in need of a good dusting. I tend to forget about it.

I’m a Samantha because I wouldn’t want a guy with a really large penis either.

Episode 29 - “Twenty-Something Girls vs Thirty-Something Women”

Carrie wonders if twenty-something girls are a friend or a foe. This is a tricky one for me to comment on. I am twenty-nine and a guy so for the purposes of this entry, I have to be a woman in my thirties. It is really the only way to seriously approach this topic.

My name is Eloise. I am a French prostitute. My story is one of sadness. My childhood was spent in a foster home where the nuns were very strict and beat us. The girls there were very cliquey and the only way to get noticed was to prove you had experience with men. I lost my virginity at thirteen to an American tourist named Craig. Craig was eighteen and studying abroad for his university. I told him I was sixteen but very mature. I did blossom earlier than most of the other girls my age. Craig was my first but he wasn’t my last. Hence, I was very popular at St. Monique’s Home For The Wayward. Even the older girls looked up to me. When I turned eighteen, I was quite promiscuous and I left the foster home to make a life for myself. I can’t believe that was sixteen years ago. There was still hope for me then.

My early twenties were a mix of vodka, lycra, and penicillin. I tried to give up the nightlife. I worked in a hospital as a candy striper but I got mixed up with one of the doctors. Before I knew it, I was pregnant by him. He was married and wanted me to just go away. I took the money and the ride to the clinic. I waited for him to drive away and then I left. I was keeping this baby. I wanted something good in my life. Eight months later, I had her. Her name is Giselle. It was hard to care for her and sex was the only thing I was good at. I became a prostitute for the money. Most nights, I lay there beneath the john off in a dreamland. When I come to, the money is on the dresser and he’s nowhere to be found. I wanted a better life but I wouldn’t change anything because then I wouldn’t have Giselle. She’s eight now and going to school. She thinks I’m a nurse working the graveyard shift. Please don’t tell her about me. She’s the only one that looks at me and smiles. I can’t lose that.

What was the question again? Do I think twenty-something girls are friends or foes? I like to think they are all friends. Some of us could use friendship in our lives. The only twenty-something year old foe, for me, Eloise, would be myself at that age. I hope that helps.

And scene. I’m a Charlotte because I like to pretend I’m 27 too.

Episode 28 - “Was It Good For You?”

Carrie wonders, “How do you know if you’re good in bed?” This seems to be a problem for most people in this world, myself included. I need a gauge, something to rate me on a scale of one to Johnny Castle.

Personally, when I have sex with someone, I get a list of all her previous sexual partners. Then, I fly them in. (It takes a lot of scheduling and rescheduling but it’s worth it for the results.) I have them sit in chairs around the bed and as the woman and I make love, she points to those I surpass and they are asked to leave. When it is over, the number of guys left determines how good I was.

I like to get over eighty percent clearance of the room. If she has slept with five men before me, there better be no more than one left when we’re done. If she has slept with ten men before me, then she’s a slut and I don’t want anything to do with her. Basically, it’s over eighty percent or I didn’t bring my A game.

I know what you’re thinking. What do you do with virgins? Simply, I don’t. I know there’s a mystique to the untouched down-there place on a woman but not to me. I like a woman that’s been around the block a few times (Not several. Get a bigger block if you feel the need for more laps, whore.) and knows where a penis goes. Seriously, have you ever been with a virgin? You can stick it in her armpit and she’ll just go, “So this is what it’s like? I don’t know what I was so scared of.” Me either, moron.

I’m a Carrie because I, too, have seen the ugliness of having someone addicted to me sexually.