Where Have All the Fuckboys Gone?

What happens to fuckboys during a lockdown?

Quarantine and chill? Better not with a fuckboy. 

First of all, one must sing, “where have all the fuckboys gone” as if they’re singing, “where have all the cowboys gone,” to make any of this work. I assumed you all knew this, but I needed to state the obvious, just in case. 

Let us explore…

I don’t know about you all, but I am curious. What happened to the fuck boys since ‘social distancing’ has become the scenerio of our day to day lives? 

In case anyone needs a refresher, a fuckboy is defined as someone who goes around making sure he gets whatever he wants aka his dick wet, usually at the expense of others, often by lying and manipulating (aka telling people what they want to hear). 

Fuckboys may act like they’re really into you only to ghost you for months than somehow return from the dead in order to get their dicks wet again with claims of having ‘been busy,’ which is just code for them fucking other people in a similar fashion. 

They come in all shapes and sizes, all ages, political and social demographics, they may even claim to be spiritual or ‘woke,’ but that’s just another ploy to help them get laid. (I’ll go into the “woke” fuckboy dilemma another time as it’s an issue all unto itself.) 

Back in the 1970s, some unwoke white dude politician said that when it came to defining porn, ‘you know it when you see it.’ Well, the truth is, the same can be said for fuckboys. (You might not know it right away, because fuckboys are great at what they do, but it does become quite clear within one day’s time.) 

There are actually lots of different definitions of a fuckboy, here are 27 hilarious ones from Thought Catalogue.   

So, where have the fuck boys gone? Could this possibly be a case of them all disappearing because they finally realized the world doesn’t want or need them anymore? Could we be so lucky?


I know that there may be some fuckboys reading this thinking, what? Why does no one want a fuckboy? Why do we exist if no one wants us? I mean, the same could be said for herpes or mosquitos or those orange candy peanuts. Just because something exists doesn’t mean it’s good or good for you. 

No one wants a fuckboy because they are horrible creatures. 

Let’s be clear, this is not to say that people do not want casual sex. There are plenty of people who do. Two people can openly and honestly agree that they only want something casual, that does not make a fuckboy, that makes two people communicating and agreeing upon the same thing.

But, there are also a lot of people who do not want casual sex and a fuckboy will pretend that he wants something meaningful too, a connection too, a relationship too, until he gets his dick wet and quickly bounces to the next conquest. 

In other words.

Fuckboys are slim. 

Fuckboys fucking suck.

At least during this quarantine you can spot a fuckboy way quicker, way easier. You know because if you match with a fuckboy on an online dating app, they will try to meet you THAT VERY DAY. They give little fucks about social distancing or lockdown etc. they only care about their immediate needs. Some fuckboys will even slide into your DMs and try to get you to meet up with them that way.

They’re losing steam. They’re running out of options.

Will they die if they can’t stick their dicks in something? Maybe? We can all pray that they do — at least that they lose that selfish part of themselves and turn from fuckboys into humans. 

I am uncertain of where all the fuckboys have gone.

Some are definitely still out there trying to get inside stuff. My suggestion: do not let them in. Let them wither away. Let them suffocate. Or if you’re friendlier than me, let them ride off into their last sunset like retired cowboys fading into the night.  

Direct advice to fuckboys:

Fuckboys turn to ghosts and stay fucking dead, you ain’t Jesus, no one needs your second coming (your first was not OMG worthy either). Fuckboys, bye.


Death: The One Thing We’re All Avoiding

Let’s Talk About Death, Baby

Death and the Corona Virus

The fact of the matter is that we’re all in quarantine as a way to avoid death, our own death or the death of someone we love. 

And for good measure. 

This corona virus ain’t playing. 

According to a May 5 2020 post on Aljazeera:

“The death toll in the United States continues to surge with 70,847 deaths and 1,201,337 cases. The US continues to lead worldwide cases and deaths from the virus.”

Not only has Covid-19 killed a bunch of people, it has completely destroyed the economy and the livelihoods of people all over the world. Everyone is stuck at home, waiting. Waiting to not die. Not yet anyway. 

This pandemic has brought to the surface our biggest fears and uncertainties about the future.

But one thing is true regardless, we’re all going to die. 


Or maybe better yet, Yay?

What I’ve noticed, observing from my basement dwelling quarantine, is that no one is straight up talking about death, what it means to die, how to accept our own end. 

We’re all busy baking bread or drinking margaritas or trying to get through to the unemployment office or working an essential job where any one person could come in and bring the entire place to its knees; where at any moment our coworkers or loved ones or lovers or friends could die. We could be dead too.  

Let’s be clear– this has always been true — yet it’s right here in our faces, our faces covered by masks. 

Pema Chodron aks:

“Can we abide in the openness that presents itself when the bottom falls out of our dream?”

Can we move forward when everything in our daily existence gets uprooted, changes, becomes something we never even imagined before? Can we accept the idea that it may cease to move forward at all? 

Facing Death

Why is there so much fear around death? 

Why are people afraid to talk about it?

What would happen if you took a moment and turned to face it instead of avoiding the very idea it? 

What would it look like? Feel like? Could you get past your sadness? Your grief? Your anger? Could you get to a place of acceptance? 

I saw this image the other day of a baby connected to her mother’s umbilical cord right next to an image of a human connected to the umbilical cord of the spirit world. 

How fascinating to imagine that we’re all just babies, earth, our mother, death a passage into the vast universe. 

But where will you go? Who will you be? Will you ever exist again? What will happen to your family? Your friends? Will it matter if you are no longer here to think about it? 

If you’re dead you no longer have to worry. At least that’s a bonus. 

Death and God

Of course, I don’t want to die, not yet anyway. I have accepted that it will happen at some point. And I am okay with it for the most part on most days. Everyone has their own belief system, they’re own connection or disconnection with God, the Universe, the Source, whatever you like to call it. 

I’m a big Alan Watts fan, I read The Taboo Against Knowing Yourself right before this whole pandemic started. I like the idea that we’re all manifestations of God. We’re all fragments, pieces of God experiencing God. A big interconnected Kaleidoscope of life ever unfolding; our eyes are the eyes of God watching the world from a very specific perspective.

Or as Watts says: 


So, I suppose I am less worried about my own personal death, knowing that we’re all interconnected elements of God and we shall continue onward regardless of our own specific conscious experiences.

I don’t know, sometimes I hurt my own brain thinking about all of this stuff. I guess I’m just curious if anyone else has been contemplating death, because it seems like most people are doing everything but. But, perhaps it’s one of those Taboos we’re not supposed to talk about. What do you think?  

Before you die you might as well buy yourself a nice toy and have an orgasm or too (I believe an orgasm is also considered a tiny death… or is that a sneeze? Who can keep up? )

Anyway. There’s unbelievable products for men, women, couples etc. And now, FREE SHIPPING at Lelo (and if you buy something with this link I get a little % kicked back to me, so thank you for getting off!)


Do We Really Want To Go Back to Normal?

Perhaps it’s time to envision a new way of being.

It’s pretty clear that the corona virus is changing the way that we exist on this planet. None of us having any idea how it is all going to unfold. Will medical professionals find a way to contain Covid-19? Even so, what happens when another virus pops up in its place? Is the economy going to tank? Will millions of lives be sacrificed to save it?

These are all things we’re about to find out.

While all of this is going down and we’re all quarantined in our selected locations, many of us jobless, many of us feeling very much non-essential right now, I encourage everyone to take an hour or however long and dive into your dreams. I’m not talking about the stories that play out in your subconscious when you’re asleep. I’m talking about what you dream about for your life.

If you could somehow reinvent how the world works, what would it look like?

Using your wildest imagination as we can only imagine as much as we know, what could humanity actually be?

Is it possible to live in a society that values people over profits?

What would a world without money look like?

Could a world exist where we valued giving, sharing, trading, more so than the dollar?

Is it possible to have gifts, to be creative, to encompass amazing personality characteristics without them being comodified? Without having to turn everything into a product or a brand?

What could a world without money do?

Our planet, our people need healed.

How does that work?

When someone gets sick should they get access to health care like any other person who gets sick?

When anyone rich or poor can catch viruses that kill, that can kill hundreds, thousands, millions of other people, shouldn’t we have systems in place to handle said situations?

Are you really THAT comfortable that you want to go back to how things were?

Was your life really THAT great? What deep down did you want out of life?

You say you just want a decent job and loving family… well WHY do you want a job? Is it for money? So you can provide for your loving family? Is it so you can buy all the things that you need to survive?

What if you already had all of those things?

Would you want a job so you felt like you had a ‘purpose’?

Why do you feel like you need a purpose to live?

And could you work, could you do the things that you loved doing, things that gave you ‘purpose’ if that’s what you truly needed without it being connected to income? Could you work on a farm or on a painting or mowing your neighbor’s lawn just because you enjoy the work and because it helps connect you to other people?

How attached are we to money that we need to go back to normal?

What if instead we created a new normal? A better normal? A normal where everyone thrived?

What would that look like to you?

Are you willing to get out of your comfort zone to get there?

If you’re not willing are you at least ready?

If life will never go back to normal then we need to start imagining a new world that aligns with what we want not what people with all the money think we need.

In the meantime, if you’re all alone might as well go F yourself. Here’s a coupon. XOXO

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Go Eat A Carrot: Year in Review﻿

go eat a carrot

Happy One Year Anniversary to Go Eat A Carrot







Go Eat A Carrot 2018-2019 Details:

  • Blogs: 79
  • Videos: 113
  • Pics: A billion
  • Instagram Followers: 3,393
  • Instagram Accounts Still In Tact: 3
  • Subscribers on Youtube: 494
  • Strikes on Youtube: 2
  • Top Video: Hot Burning Man Sex (42.8K views)
  • Patreon Posts: 581 (deleted several after strike)
  • Strikes on Patreon: 1
  • Peak Patreon Patrons: 15
  • Current Patreon Patrons: 6

Sex/Dating Life Since:

  • One (to 2) night stands: 11
  • Friends with benefits: 5
  • Playthings: 3
  • Boyfriends/lovers: 1
  • Sociopaths: 1

Sex Highlights:



Happy Rabbit

The Hard (and soft) Lessons I’ve Learned:














Woo for Play


Birthday Reflections: Getting Around

on aging

It is My Birthday.

I Am Still Here.










Something like that.





Who knows for certain.


So yeah, I’m old.


Cheers to being old.


Enneagrams, Russian Doll, and Killing Yourself

killing the self

A Mental Health Update

Yesterday I went to a therapist for the first time in my entire life.

I’ve been overcoming depression on and off for about twenty years give or take. It’s not that I’ve ever necessarily been afraid to go to therapy. I tell strangers my problems all the time over the internet. I’ve always thought that I could work through everything myself, I thought I was strong enough, that comparatively my problems were nothing.

Well, a few things happened all at once to finally get me to make the call. First, I ended yet another toxic relationship. Then, I went to Planned Parenthood after the end of this toxic relationship and discovered my pH balance in my vagina was off. Shock shock. Not a big deal. This happens to women all the time, we just tend to keep it to ourselves. They put me on antibiotics and thus for the last week I have not been drinking. I’ve instead been filling my time with a lot of reading and a lot of Netflixing.

Broad City Collection

One of the many books I’ve been plowing through is a book about Understanding the Enneagrams. At first, I thought this whole thing was going to be bullshit but bullshit can be entertaining. Initially, I was drawn to it from a writer’s perspective to better understand the motivations behind different people’s actions and reactions. Enneagrams divide people into 9 different personality types that continue to get more complicated and nuanced as you learn more.

As I was reading it I found that people I know fit within certain numbers perfectly. Like the guy I fell for most recently was an unhealthy 3; no self-worth thus manipulates and deceits people until he brings them down to his level. I found myself too. I’m an 8. The Challenger. The Challenger rises from a loss of innocence that can then manifest itself in lustful ways.

Fast forward.

I’m binge-watching Russian Doll on Netflix. I love Natasha Lyonne and Chloe Sevigny. I stick with it even though it starts off as this Groundhog’s Day-esque format of which makes me go mad. Yet, I put my anxiety on hold.

There was something quite powerful with this show even though the repetition of repeating the same day can make a person crazy, which is exactly the point, right? You keep getting thrown these same situations over and over because you’ve never solved the problem you were meant to solve.

The only difference is that our patterns come back with different masks, we don’t get a do-over. (I will not go down the rabbit hole of alternative dimensions today because that just gets complicated.)

Anyway, so we can see the main character repeating the same patterns within the same time frame of a day, day after day, but it’s just the same as us waking up day after different day and getting to try again.

At the end, she is finally confronted with her loss of innocence. She has no where else to go and must take the steps to overcome the pain of her past. She has to kill the part of herself that she no longer the needs. The part of herself that has been trying to protect her all of these years but has instead started to do the opposite. This is not a physical death. It is a letting go.  

Is this character an enneagram 8? Most def.  

Is this all just coincidentally unfolding right here right now for me? Nah. It’s time.

It’s time for me to take proactive steps to stop my pattern that are holding me back.  Sure, I’m strong, but I’m stronger now because I can admit that I can’t do everything on my own.

Depression and Why I Show My Boobs

woman crying depressed

I feel empty. I feel like I’m suffocating. I don’t know if I’m going to make it through this time. I’ve been depressed for so long it’s like a continual numbness. I’m tired.

I’ve become more distant from my close friends. Sometimes it feels like they don’t understand why I’m doing this. They think I’m doing something wrong by talking about sex and showing my boobs or whatever. Most people don’t like that I’m showing my boobs.

Well ‘most people’, they’re my boobs and I can show them if I want.

I don’t have to justify it, but here are some justifications anyway.

People are too uptight about the naked body and I’m rebelling against that.

It like to do it.

Other people enjoy looking at my boobs so why should I always keep them covered if I can give people who want to see them pleasure? Of course, this is America and we live in a capitalistic society so I’m not just going to give them away for free. I have to pay rent, people.

Speaking of rent. This is where I’m most upset with myself. I’m actually a really hard worker. I spent the past year writing a book and a satirical self-help video series and developing this blog while doing freelance marketing. The freelance has run dry and the other things are still incubating from an income-perspective. I have applied to jobs but my heart isn’t it in. My heart is here in these creative projects.

That’s the original reason why I started the Patreon account. It turns out that people only really care about seeing my boobs, which in a way is easier but not really because it would be nice if people wanted to see my boobs AND support my creative endeavors but I suppose we can’t always get everything we want huh?


I’ve had a lot of people reach out to me on Instagram while I was writing this. I realize that we’re all a mess to some degree or another and you all are brave for getting up and getting out there. I really respect your strength and wish I had a bit more of it. Of course, tomorrow is another day and perhaps I’ll be a go-getting show-stopping money magnet then.

And I’ll be able to lift others who are feeling down. We’re like one big team here on planet Earth. Or maybe the suffocation will continue. Who knows?!

Feel free to check out my patreon for the boobs or whatever.

How to Take Action When You Fuck Up a Relationship

how to fix a relationship that you broke

Aka Get Off Your Phone and Get to Work


At Least Do Something if You Care At All

Most people don’t want to do the work that it takes to be in any kind of romantic relationship.

I mean, I get it, why have a deep connection with someone who cares about you, thinks you’re the whole world, would do anything for you (but not that), when you can just go out and have sex?

Oh wait.

Yeeaaahhh. Casual sex is fun and all but it’s got nothing on love.

L. O. V. E.

Wtf is that anyway?

There was that Chris Rock stand-up where he explained it pretty well. Aka “If you haven’t contemplated murder, you ain’t been in love.”

Now, perhaps that’s taking it too far, but I don’t know. It was in the moment after we had been fighting (well, after he kissed my roommate and tried to sleep with her when I was in the other room and then lied about it) when I walked through my kitchen, saw a knife sitting on the counter and paused for a second too long when I realized, “oh fuck, I might actually have fallen for that guy!”

Yet, then he really fucked it all up.

A series of texts transpired after which were full of apology etc. Now I’m a patient person. I can tolerate a lot of pain. I can even forgive a person for being a total and complete piece of shit, which is something I should maybe try unlearning. But here’s the thing. Actions must be taken.

If you fuck up a relationship by being a liar, a manipulator, a cheat etc. and you want that person back. Good fucking luck. You’re going to have to work your ass off. You’re going to have to make sacrifices to the goddesses. You’re going to have to quit being a lazy ass good-for-nothing mother fucker and do something.

This is the most important component that I think a lot of people who fuck up relationships miss.

You must shut your mouth, your words mean nothing at this point because your previous actions proved you otherwise untrustworthy.

You can no longer rely on a text apology. That’s not good enough. You must overcome your own ego and DO SOMETHING.


This where things get confusing to a lot of people. They know that must take action but they have NO IDEA what kind of action to take.

Use your brains here. Get creative. The point is rebuilding. It’s like, not only did you tear your entire building down, but in the process, you created a major fucking hole too. Now you have to fill in the hole (and not with your dick…) AND build an entirely new building, that’s taller and shiner and all that shit.

Most people can’t do this. Either they didn’t really love that person that much or they’re lazy or both. We’re quite the throw-away society, not only do we have no respect for things anymore, now people are things and are thrown away all the same. We can do better. We can be more interesting than that.

If you’re struggling with figuring out some sort of action to take after you took some negative actions that made your relationship fail, don’t worry. I’ve made a list as a starting point to help you. Of course, this is mostly just stuff that I’d want, I don’t know who you fucked over or what they’re into, but perhaps this list can help spark your imagination and get you on that first step back into their good graces.

tantus cock rings
Make your carrot vibrate maybe?! Nah, prob something better than that.

Here Are 12 Ways to Do Something That Could At Least Help You Maybe One Day Get Back What You Fucked Up

Say Anything style and stand outside their bedroom window blasting your song on a boombox (I’d suggest not the song he blasts because that song is kind of lame).

Write “I’m sorry” in their yard using a bunch of burritos or bacon or whatever food they love.

Write and mail them a love note every day. Every. Day.

Try flowers, nothing says romance like something that is so beautiful it will die in three days.

Try flowers again three days later because the other flowers are dead now and you don’t want them to think of your relationship that way.

Bottle up your tears and then let the other person make a nice clean (or dirty) martini from them.

Write and record them a song.

Send them a heart-shaped pizza.

Start seeing a therapist and work on yourself.

Buy them everything they want on their Amazon Wish List (or mine is fine with me).

Write them a poem or better yet, an entire book of poems.

Or if you’re terrible at poetry, write a long long LONG list of everything you love about them.

Is this helping at all? Getting some ideas? Okay cool. Maybe now quit reading this and GO DO SOMETHING about whatever it is you did. You’re welcome (and good luck).

Gifts for Brinds


overcoming a betrayal in a relationship

Lies, Manipulation, and Love Built to Die





The question is, can it be repaired?



Discover Fifty Shades Darker













The Correlation Between Sex and Violence


Why Are Men So Mean Sometimes?

Male Sex Toys 728X90


 Watch Hannibal Today


Discover Fifty Shades Darker


1. On Female Sexual Liberation





Jive by We-Vibe

2. Sex, Marriage, and Violence

From the same article:



And thus, the divorced men become more aggressive and violent.


Gifts for Brinds

3. Sex, Violence and Video Games


4. Social Media, Sex, and Violence




5. Your Brain on Sex and Violence

From Psychology Today:




Motorhead - the Official Pleasure Collection

6. Violence and Sex in Crowds

According to the same article from Psychology Today:







Thanks for reading.

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