For Us “Almost Lovers” It’s Lose-Lose

April 28, 2008

So the other day I’m doing the morning crossword puzzle and I had VH1 on in the background, which was playing a video from a new band called A Fine Frenzy.  I couldn’t help but notice the lyrics to the song playing in the background.  And then it hit me:  she was singing about me!


For clarification, regardless how big my ego seems at times, this wasn’t a case of narcissism gone amuck.  The fairly hot redhead in the band wasn’t singing about ME per say, but about guys like me – or should I say guys women THINK are like me.  It’s a sad state of affairs.


The name of the song is “Almost Lover” and if you read the lyrics you’ll notice it’s about a girl who gets heartbroken by a guy.  I know — another one of those, right?  Well the difference with this one is she’s heartbroken not because of something the dude did, but because of her foolish assumptions.  You see, she thought the relationship was more serious than it was because of the great way he treated her, even though in his eyes it was just a casual thing – hence him being dubbed an “almost lover.”  And here, as they say, lies the rub.


If I had a dime for every time this happened to me I’d be able to call Bill Gates a broke chump.  For “almost lovers” like myself it’s lose-lose.  You see, I make a point to treat every girl I date special regardless of the status of the relationship.  If it’s a serious thing or just casual, I don’t discriminate; they all get the same quality treatment.  Nice right?  Wrong.  Like the redheaded hottie in A Fine Frenzy, women often misinterpret the special treatment as a sign of me wanting things to be way more serious than it is.


The big stink of it all is if the relationship is casual I make it known right away in the beginning.  So when it all goes south later on and I wonder where the hell the drama came from, I remind her that I was very clear from Jump Street that it was just a casual thing.  They usually respond with, “I know you did, but I figured you changed your mind based on your actions.”  That’s the Catch-22.  If I treat them bad from the beginning then I’m a big jerk, but if I treat them great and they misinterpret it as me wanting to take the relationship up a notch only to find out later that I don’t then I’m still the big jerk.  It’s like a Greek tragedy.


So that’s what gives birth to us “almost lovers.”  We’re guys who treat women special as if we’re in serious relationship with them, but really aren’t.  More importantly, we don’t pretend to be.  We’re open and upfront about things being just casual.  It’s an error on her part, not ours. 


I suppose the only two solutions to this “almost lover” debacle is either One, treat women a lot worse so they don’t think you have stronger feelings for her, or Two, ladies make sure you don’t read into his actions.  If the great way he treats you conflicts with his announcement of relationship casualness it doesn’t necessarily mean he had a change of heart.  Just ask him.  Assume nothing.  For the sanity of everyone involved, and the reduction of my hate mail, I suggest option number Two.


You can find out more about Jon at and make sure to check out his podcasts “The Fireman & the Shrink” and all the other cool sex stuff on NBC’s Better Sex page at  You can email Jon at


Not All Sperm Are Created Equal

April 14, 2008

My sperm is in pretty high demand.

Wait, don’t go there. Let me explain. It seems the people in Austria are running low on sperm. I’m not exactly sure where all the sperm went, but they’re in need of more and they seem to believe their only savior is firefighters – or at least our sperm.

An Austrian sperm bank manager, or teller, or whatever he is, explains that firefighters have “very pleasing sperm” and they’d rather have ours then the sperm of a donor who looks like Brad Pitt. That’s how good we firefighters’ sperm is. How good is it? Well it’s worth about 70 Euros, which converts to about $110.57 a shot (no pun intended). Man, to think of all that money washed down my shower drain!

As flattering as the demand for my sperm is, I have a little piece of advice for our friends in Austria: go for the Brad Pitt-guy sperm instead. The fact of the matter is, the majority of firefighters out there don’t have the female firefighter-fantasy chiseled Matthew McConaughey look. Rather, a good majority of them sport the same look as my 250-pound shift mate, complete with no identifiable hair style and a moustache that should’ve been shaved off somewhere around 1995. It’s not pretty, folks. It’s not pretty.

Now I don’t mean to rip on firefighters; after all I am one. But since I’m against most stereotypes, I want to let the unsuspecting fertile women of Austria know what they might be in for. If you’re looking for that mystery sperm to produce a bambino with tons if inner beauty, then a firefighter is the way to go. But if you think that you’re going to get an offspring that jumped right out of the annual “Hottest Firefighter” calendar, then the joke’s gonna be on you.

Sound ridiculous? I agree. It all relates to how silly it is that some women find certain guys attractive simply because of their jobs – like firefighters, doctors, fighter pilots, etc. I understand why those types of jobs can be attractive to women, but so much so that it makes some want our sperm too? Silliness.

I think the point I’m trying to make here is to quit with the stereotypes already. If you wanna have sex with a guy, do it because you’re into him, not because he’s a firefighter. Imagine your disappointment, ladies, when you end up with a firefighter who sucks in bed. And if you’re looking to make a withdrawal from the local sperm bank, do it because you really want a baby, not because you think your firefighter mega-sperm is going to produce an Olympian athlete or Nobel Peace Prize winner.

Or hell, maybe I should come down from the soap box and get with the program. I have a somewhat active sex life. This could be a nice little side gig for me. No more freebees ladies now that my little super-swimmers are a hot commodity. From this point on when you come to visit make sure you bring $110.57 (no personal checks, please). We are open for business!

Learn more about Jon at and make sure to check out his podcasts “The Fireman & the Shrink” and all the other cool sex stuff at NBC’s Better Sex page at  You can email Jon at 

Sex in the Firehouse Isn’t Always Hot

April 10, 2008

Remember the firefighter movie Backdraft?  If you ask firefighters which scene stands out the most for them in that movie, the one where Billy Baldwin nails Jennifer Jason Leigh on top of the fire engine would probably be their top three.


Since that iconic scene in cinematic history I wish I had a dime for every girl that’s asked me if I’ve done that – or if I WANT to do that, if you catch my drift.  And since then, many a naughty firefighter have recreated the scene.  If you took one of those C.S.I. blue lights to the hosebeds of fire engines across the country they’d light up like a Christmas tree.


I can attest firsthand that there’s something about having sex in a firehouse, or in a fire truck, that is an aphrodisiac to women.  And there are just as many firefighters who capitalize on it.  I’m not saying me, of course, out of fear of incriminating myself (wink wink, nudge nudge), but I know it happens often.


Hate to be a buzz kill here, but I need to set the record straight on this — sex in the firehouse isn’t very hot.  Yep, you heard me right.  Let’s assess.  Reason #1:  Firehouses are nasty.  Some of the most disgusting buildings I’ve ever been in are firehouses.  Ever seen an apartment or dorm where a bunch of dudes live?  Their standard of clean is pretty different than the general population’s.  And trucks are even nastier.  In Backdraft you’ll notice the hose they were laying on was shiny white and squeaky clean.  In reality, a fire hose is the nastiest mold and dirt-infested filth you can lay your hands on.  I won’t even touch it without gloves on.  I’d rather drink water from a sewer in India.  And have sex on it?  Are you kidding me?!?  Who knows what sort of bio-organism will crawl inside one of my body cavities and start laying eggs in me?  Trust me ladies, you don’t wanna be up there.


Reason #2:  There’s no room.  To many women sex in a fire truck is a huge turn-on.  That’s fine … if you’re a Cirque D Soleil contortionist.  Look inside a fire truck sometime.  There’s like a 2’ x 2’ area to work with.  I dunno about you but I need room to properly get my freak on.  A slipped disc or hernia isn’t worth a little bit of sex no matter how good it is.


Reason #3:  It’ll get you fired.  I personally know firefighters who got canned for having sex on duty.  Tax payers aren’t too wild about the idea of paying you to have sex.  No one cares if a plumber or accountant gets busted having sex on the job, but if it happens in a firehouse it gets plastered all over the news, as was the case recently in Texas when firefighters were busted with a stripper in the firehouse.  I guarantee some heads are gonna role on that one.  Stupid, stupid, stupid! 


So I know the whole “thrill of getting caught” thing can be hot, especially with sex at work.  But there’s a big difference between sneaking in the copy room at your office job and having sex in a firehouse.  Firefighters are supposed to be the good guys — the moral ones, not a bunch of hornballs who can’t get make it through a 24 hour shift without having an orgasm. You’re asking for trouble, and it’s just not as fun as it sounds.  I mean come on, would I rather have sex in a dirty, stinky, cramped firehouse or on my soft king-size bed being as loud as I want with plenty of room for acrobatics?  Boy, let me think… 



You can find out more about Jon at and make sure to check out his podcasts “The Fireman & the Shrink and all the other cool sex stuff on NBC’s Better Sex page at  You can email Jon at

Ladies: Invites Aren’t Always Booty Calls

April 7, 2008

As so many of us single people do after a night of drinking and feeling pretty randy, I decided to send a witty text to a girl I was dating telling her she should really drop by to see me.  After the brief cyberspace pause my phone began to vibrate as if it was saying, “Get ready, stud, you’re about to have a visitor.”  But the brakes came to a screeching halt when I read the words on the screen that said, “Sorry hunny, I’m not a booty call.”




I stared at the thing for a moment waiting for the second message to come through saying, “Just kidding.  I’ll be right there.”  But the message never came.  It was real.


The reason I was so floored was because I didn’t consider her a booty call at all. Would sex have happened if she came over? Probably. But it wasn’t the sole reason for the invite. I legitimately liked spending time with her.


When I spoke to her the next day, I asked why she thought the invite was a booty call, and she said it was because of the time of night. Excuse me? It’s silly to think that when the clock strikes a certain hour honest invites turn into shady booty calls.  If that were the case then guys all over the world would be doing mad calling and texting at 1:59 am to beat the 2 am booty call deadline.


No my friends, what makes an invite a booty call isn’t logistical things such as the time of night or your alcohol content.  It’s deeper than that.  It’s how you view the girl.  It’s based solely on whether you consider her just a booty call, or someone you really like spending time with. Think about it: if a guy is in a serious relationship with a girl he’s been with for 2 years and he texts her at 2 am to come over, she’s not a booty call.  Why? Because he doesn’t see her that way. It’s his girlfriend, someone he wants to spend time with regardless of the hour. But the dude that sends the same text at the same time to a girl he only sees on weekends in the wee hours of the morning is a booty call – he knows it and she knows it — and she’s fine with it.


Think of it this way:  a booty call is a noun AND a verb.  The verb booty call is something you do, but the noun booty call is what you are.  If you consider your partner as the noun then you see her as just another booty call.  But if you do the verb version with your partner you don’t think of her as just another booty call.  She’s a tier above – like the dude that booty-called his own girlfriend. 


So ladies before you’re quick to chastise a guy for booty calling you, first ask yourself if you’re the noun or the verb.  If you’re the noun, and you don’t want to be, you have reason to be offended.  But if you’re the verb, it’s not a bad thing.  Don’t overanalyze.  Just go over there and verb his brains out.


You can find out more about Jon at and make sure to check out his podcasts “The Fireman & the Shrink” and all the other cool sex stuff at NBC’s Better Sex page at  You can email Jon at