Ever since Sex and the City wriggled its way into the hearts and minds of the vain, it paved the way for a new profession. A profession that requires no University education, no wit, no sophistication and certainly no elegance. Basically you just need to:

1) Have a bigoted opinion when it comes to relationships
2) Give yourself a name that sounds similar to Sex and the City
3) Disrespect the English language whenever possible
4) Be as chauvinistic as possible
5) Believe that all the people you’ve slept with were all leading you towards your destination; your reason for being on this earth. To become a Sex Columnist for Fairfax.

There is one particular Sydney columnist whose chauvinism attracts a large number of loyal readers – and for the rest of us, it conjures the urge to have a shower with an electrical appliance. I don’t wish to name names here, so let’s just call her Samantha B. No, that’s too obvious… S.Brett.

Her bio reads like this: “S. Brett is a dating and relationships expert, TV host and author of three books including the latest bestseller The Chase: Everything you need to know about men, sex and dating.”

For this to be accurate it would have to mean that a large number of Australians sought after this book – online, or physically at a shop – and traded money that they owned or borrowed. Fairly astounding when you take a moment to think about it. I’m not sure on the precise stipulations for a “Best Seller” these days. There has always been a debate over units sold vs units shipped. Could it be possible that somewhere in Australia there is a giant abandoned warehouse with thousands of copies of ‘The Chase’? Yes, yes it could.

But, at least it would be in good company.

Charles Darwin did his best to shed light on the deep intricacies of anthropology. Sigmund Freud dedicated a large portion of his life to uncovering the mysteries of man’s inherent sexual nature. But in hindsight, these two failed miserably. What they didn’t cover was in-depth analysis like this:

After sex do women change?

“Why do women change after sex?” This was the question posed to me the other day by a man who had been casually dating a woman he was rather fond of. There’d been dinners, drinks, delectable kisses, the occasional sweet text and she hadn’t even asked him about his ex. Yes, everything seemed to be smooth sailing. After all, she was everything he liked in a woman: charming, funny, alluring, cool, aloof, sexy. That was until they slept together …

So what changed?

It wasn’t the fact that he was bad in bed, not well-endowed enough in the nether regions for her liking or that he felt the need to shower straight afterwards. Nor was it the fact she giggled throughout, answered her mobile phone or told him she was falling for him right before he had an orgasm. It was something far worse: immediately afterwards, her personality suddenly morphed from casual and cool to a five-stage clinger. [sic]

Goddamn, of course! The stage-five clinger. I couldn’t find this anywhere in Freud’s notes. But, I do remember seeing it somewhere else.

Could it be possible that Sam’s stories are entirely made up!?? Surely not.

Brett’s bigotry shines most brightly through her endless quest to ‘change men’. As she goes on:

“Can you change a man? God knows I’ve tried. I wanted my man to be more social, less flirtatious, more in tune with my emotions, less closed about his.”

One could hazard a guess as to why a man would keep his cards close to his chest around a woman who has essentially made a living out of humiliating men.

But I should digress slightly and give praise where praise is due, as Sam is quick to learn from her mistakes. In her article entitled ‘Lessons I’ve Learnt from Being Single’, Sam laments: “When you’re a sexually starved singleton, the knowledge that most men are up for it most of the time means that it’s pretty easy to get laid. So you do. And then you realise that the bloke you’ve just bonked is up for nothing more than a semi-regular horizontal hanky panky session. “

OK, let’s stay calm and straighten this out. Sam knows men up are for it most of the time. She knows that it is easy to get laid with this knowledge. Sam uses this knowledge to get laid. But, she wants a man who is less flirtatious?

#Firstworldproblems

I know of a few sexually starved singleton’s who have been added to the offenders registry, posthaste.

Aside from being a wealth of sexual knowledge, and attempting to set women back 50 years, Sam also provides practical tech info for up-and-coming bloggers.

So I think I’m starting to get my head around all of this. Maybe I’m wrong to attack Sam? Maybe there is a science to it? And like she said, it’s really easy! If it’s that easy then maybe I could become a sex columnist, too? Fuck it. I’m going to do it.

I’ve tried to adhere to the boundaries of relationship journalism – the boundaries forged by pioneers like Sam.

Be gentle.

Where are all the good Men in Sydney
by Nicknak in the City

The question remains: how many times can I write a column about sex and relationships? Evidently, The SMH has extended my contract for another three years. Woo!

This means I’m just beginning to scratch the surface of the dating phenomenon and that weird alien race we like to call “men”.

Men. Where should I start. They’re like toys, girls – they come in and out of our lives like an autumn breeze. Sometimes we think we don’t need them and that life would be better without them around.

But, like all women. I have needs and desires which (sorry ladies) only a strong rugged man can fulfil. I’m talking about sex guys (der!).

Last Saturday, after a forgettable day in front of my knight in shining armour (macbook pro) – I decided it was time to strap on my twelve-hundred dollar Manolos and treat myself to a few well earned cocktails at one of Sydney’s more exclusive night spots. I met up with a few girlfriends and we started swapping stories about our week. We discussed our non-taxing, fortunate to have due to Australia’s economic situation, jobs – and how we wouldn’t trade them in for the world! But, it seemed after 25 minutes we’d run out of conversation topics and we inevitably fell back into the trap of our sex lives.

Let me tell you something ladies of Australia. WE DON’T NEED MEN. They’re like the tiara you wear to your high school formal – they’re an accompaniment other girls will compliment you on briefly before moving down to your gorgeous fringe, or your tapered mid-section (yes, I’ve been in the gym lately). My life coach and bestie, considers men to be more like a a nail in your car tire: “They get stuck in there and puncture your inner tube, but once they’re in there you can’t remove them, otherwise you will deflate”. And she’s right. But like I said – after a few drinks, I tend to get a bit frisky.

So we’re onto our fourth or fifth for the night and in walks this gorgeous guy. Tall, dark, handsome, wearing expensive clothes. My first instinct is to eavesdrop on his drink order so I can figure out what sort of salary he is on. Much to my delight he orders the second most expensive bottle of wine on the menu – and ladies, this is fine – most expensive bottle usually means he is trying to over compensate for something. Anything below the second most expensive bottle and it’s a sign to run for the hills “He’s poor!”. Anyways, I grab him by the arm and pull him over to where I’m sitting, leaving his friend by himself (always isolate men). We start chatting about everything! He’s heard of my column and loves it! He’s a financial advisor who has just moved back from New York – OMG. Now ladies here’s where things get interesting….

We’re starting to get really flirty, touching each other’s arms. I’m ordering more drinks, which he’s paying for, I manage to do the occasional micro-blog on my iphone which he’s totally cool with, but then! I suggest we go back to
my place as I have a female urge right now which requires a male beast to ravage, at which point I’ll suggest that he should head home as I have an early start in the morning and need to blog about everything that’s just happened and make a complete fool of the guy for my own personal gain…..and he replies……”I”M GAY!!!!!” Whyyyyyy oh whyyyy! The only decent guy in Sydney happens to be gay! Just my luck.

I think I’m destined to be nothing more than a powerful, single, blog-savy Diva guys 🙁 .

Nick-Nak in the City