Method 12: One Shot of Chilled Jagermeister

The other night I read my girlfriend's emails. She did it to me first, so don't judge. Also, what got me searching was the fact that when I asked her if she had feelings for someone else, she said, "No. Why? Have you been snooping?" If I wasn't fully suspicious before, I was after hearing that. Upon reading the emails, I found nothing anywhere, and it looked as if she really was squeaky clean, like Obama. Then I looked in her drafts folder, and there it was: an email to her hockey player ex who I always suspected she wasn't over, where she wrote him how she was still in love with him. I hate to say something like this because I don't do it for dramatic effect, but my heart had that crushed feeling, as in literally crushed, as if someone were wringing it out like a dish rag. It was too the point where I couldn't function all day.

Later that day she was telling me some very bad news about her family, and I wasn't able to be emotionally present for her. Big surprise, I mean, I can never be present for her, considering I'm the type of guy who expresses his feelings better through his writing than he is cable of in person, but I was in no position to support someone who was in love with someone else, someone who just gave me the aforementioned dish rag treatment. When she expressed her frustration at my inability to be supportive, I felt no other choice but to tell her about digging through her emails, to explain why I was emotionally checked out. She went in the next room, pulled out her lap top, and showed me that the email was sent to the dude before she and I even met. Oops.

I only told two people about this episode. One laughed her ass off, and the other asked me if I checked those emails looking for an excuse to break up with her. Thinking back, I kind of was.

The next night I took her out to dinner, she said some hurtful things, I swore at her, got up from the table, looked in the mirror, and said to myself, "I don't even like this person let alone love her." We drove home resolved to break up, and then we started crying, telling each other all kinds of stuff we have been feeling. She cried, I did, too, but I made sure she didn't catch me; I always do. Then we got relatively drunk for a Monday, watching a hockey game, enjoying each other's company in a way we hadn't for months. She ordered two shots on the way out, mine a chilled shot of Jagermeister, and we had unbelievably great sex. Those few sporadic times when the sex is good, there's a huge weight off our shoulders, we're giddy and childlike, and all is right with the world, for that brief while.

The next night was back to usual: awkward, she was depressed, I was distant, and there was not so much as a kiss. We barely looked at one another.

'Bartender, the lady and I will have two shots of chilled Jagermeister . . .'

Method #11: Have a Patient Girlfriend

Considering we hadn't had sex in over three weeks, I had a pretty decent performance last night. I started out really anxious, doing the multiplication tables in my head, which only made me appear more restless. She said, in a calm voice, looking me in the eye, "Just relax. It's just you and me." She continued to soothe me through out, and I calmed down and did okay. I wasn't great, but it was way better a showing than I've given in a long time, especially considering I had no drinks in me.

She was so sweet, and it was really beautiful, actually, but it made me feel like kind of a loser, like I need to be soothed to do okay. Soothing sex is really great, but I want crazy monkey-sex like I used to be capable of. Well, maybe if I get in a comfort zone with the slow stuff, I can get down with some ape-like stuff later in the game.

Here's hoping . . .

Method #10: Zoloft

It turns out, not only does Zoloft make me less anxious and happier, one of the side effects is that it's harder for me to ejaculate. Holy shit! Why didn't anyone tell me sooner?

Not so fast, there are some side effects that aren't so helpful. I get really drowsy, and I can't drink caffeine to offset that because the combination makes me literally insane. Also, I can't drink alcohol on this stuff because the two working together will team up to eat up my liver. My doctor didn't tell me that I couldn't have my two favorite drugs anymore if I started with this one.

Right now I'm sleepy as hell, can't take a nap, and can't have caffeine. All of this to get better at sex so I don't lose my girlfriend, and we haven't even tried to have sex in three weeks. It's not looking good for us. I haven't been able to try the topic of this post or the prior one, and I feel I may never get the chance the way things are going.

But, the Zoloft is making me happy, at least until about 2 PM, at which time I'm unbelievably and unstoppably tired for the remainder of the day.

Method #9: Think About Baseball

This has been a popular way of doing things, but it's never been enough for me because my mind wanders too much. It's like this for me:

My local baseball team is looking pretty good this year. Good starters, but the bullpen kind of blows. They also need a lead off hitter and a, holy crap that's hot! No! Baseballl. Baseball! So, the local baseball team, they got a great set of tits. No!!

I opted, instead, to try to name players from a football team of a certain year (have you noticed yet that I'm intentionally hiding what city's teams I support?). I must admit, I got pretty good at it. I could rattle off the entire defense in the first five minutes, work my way through most of the offense in the next five, but then I'd just hone in on the sex. After my sports heroes got me through the first part, I was in good shape, but that was before this problem. Now I can't even get through the defensive line, which is typically where I start, without losing it.

Someone told me to do the multiplication tables in my head, which seems like the perfect strategy, since there are no gaps in thought like there is in naming the football players, like transitioning from running backs to receiving corps, which is when thoughts of "don't blow it, asshole" can jump right in my head.

So, I begin, perhaps tonight, to go over my times tables with more fervor than I did when I was eight, sweating over flash cards, barely passing the third grade.

Method #8: Kegel Excercises

This is another way of saying penis excercises, believe it or not. It's a matter of isolating and contracting the area as hard as you can, releasing, and gradually increasing how long you hold it, how many sets you do, etc. I'm just glad no doctors recommend lifting dumbells with it because I've seen that on the internet, and looks like no picnic.

I tried a few kegel excercises. I put a little headband around him and gave him the workout of a liftetime. It was like a Kegel Ironman. Poor fella was panting and sweating his poor purple head off. It was after doing this that I read that overstraining yourself can actually make the problem worse. Shit.

One article I read said that you can do these excercises anywhere: at your desk, in your car during stoplights. Come on! I'm not doing that in public . . . So, I did a few "reps" in the car the other day, and I think I'm gaining some peen strength. I just wonder if other motorists could see my faces. They probably thought I was taking a dump. I would be impressed if they ascertained that I was excercising my dong.

Well, much like everything else that I've tried, it didn't work. I'm still lousy in bed these days.

I honestly think it's just stress, anxiety, and worrying about it that is causing the problem. I'm focusing on it too much, as evidenced by the fact that I've started up a blog about it. How do I not focus on it? It's totally emasculating and scary as hell. I'm getting stressed out, and I just don't want to think about it anymore. I'm going to work out my penis and go to bed.

Method #7: Stay in There

Have you ever tried to stop yourself by suddenly pulling out? Don't do that. You may be able to stop yourself, but you'll only annoy your partner, who wants you to remain inserted so that she continues to feel good. Plus, all that stopping and starting will make her anxious. Besides, if you mess up and finish, at least you do it inside her and not all over the sheets.

I got one all over the sheets today, and she was really pissed. She maintains that she doesn't care if I go quick, but spunking on the linens really ticks her off. She was upset, I was feeling shitty about myself with this stupid problem of mine, especially because I swear I used to have unbelievable control (pathetic that I have to keep mentioning that), and we were both quiet for an uncomfortable few hours. She told me that she estimates that I've been having this problem for about the last six months of our one year relationship. I had no idea it has been going on that long, which made me feel even crappier.

We then had a great night out, came home drunk, and I was a sexual dynamo. I really hope to find more viable options with these 101 blogs than getting drunk because I think in the grand scheme of things I'd rather be a premature ejaculator than a full blown alcoholic.

Method #6: Clear the Air

I mentioned in my last post that another secret to a recent good performance was clearing the air, and I believe this to be 100% true. Sex problems in relationships often stem from intimacy problems, which stem from a division between the couple.

My girl and I went out for sushi, and we had a big fight about a big topic. It's something that is so big that it's always going to be a problem between us; it's just a matter of how often it comes up. Things looked pretty bad, but I laid it on the line for her over a long drive in an open, vulnerable, but somehow ballsy way. It's very hard to describe without giving details of the conversation, but I want to leave that sort of stuff out of thing blog. In any case, she cried, and I damn near did, too.

We both felt like there was a huge wall between us knocked down, and we had really intimate, beautiful sex, really connecting like never before- certainly in a way we haven't done it in months. Afterwards, we were both giddy and almost high.

You have to break down those walls, people.

Then again, a few nights later, I had one pretty good performance and one downright lousy one. Either it was just the wine that made me good, I have all new barriers to break down, or I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about.