Ex-pert

I did not have sex last night. Granted, I can say this a solid 315, ok 360, days of the year, but Cory came into town last night. I mean, what good is it to have ex-boyfriends if you can’t randomly sleep with them? Although we were at his sister’s house, there was very little affection thrown my way and no indication of better things to come. And by “better things”, I mean sex and by “come,” I mean “cum”. When it comes to sexing the ex, I have three rules:
1) Never sleep with an ex you secretly wish to date again or that wishes to date you.
2) When in the presence of the sexually activated ex, pretend he (or she) is the only object of your desire; any other relationships should appear non-existent.
3) ALWAYS use condoms.

Pleasure is the primary motivator for me to do the ex hook-up thing. Let's face it, it is a long and hard process (pun intended) to train a guy to what you want in bed, so when you do and the relationship ends, the challenge of having to find a new boyfriend coupled with the dismay of having to start the coaching all over again is enough to drive a gal to a gluttonous night of hard alcohol and mind altering drugs. (Although, eating a bad peanut is enough to drive me to that.) One-nighters can lead to some glooms, but it’s amazing how adding in a few orgasms can make you feel a lot less trashy.

But, back to Cory, or at least the 'Cory' to each of us. Cory is an ex-boyfriend who has been exculpated, or exonerated. My boyfriends get exonerated when the break up is because of a failure for us to be romantic partners but not necessarily a deficiency as friends or sexual partners. If you still can make each me laugh or enjoy fucking, no matter how awkward it may sometimes be, my feeling is that it’s best to remain in each other’s lives… not that I need the extra friends (I’m very popular).

Sometimes, there is a fine line between an ex who can be exonerated, an ex that can be sexed, and an ex who should simply be excommunicated. Excommunication tends to occur when I've unwisely extend the relationship so far past its expiration that a simple inquiry about the cost of dinner catapults into a rage about how his views on the domestic national product make him incapable of being a better lover. (Not that the woman in question was I – I’m very balanced).

And how can we leave out the exes who should simply be executed, the ones of whom have inflicted such serious wounds that not even the ultimate ex-Man (Wolverine) could heal from them. With such people, it is best to do what is always best when the going gets tough… drink a case of cheap beer, eat three medium pizzas, and just let it go.