Fleshbot and Twoallbeefpattiesspecialsauce lettucecheesepicklesonionsonasesameseedbun

This week’s Sex Blog Roundup at Fleshbot puts on its black tie and brushes off its tails to ponder first impressions, those moments that can whirl you across the ballroom or leave you sidelined before the baton is even raised.

Those of you who enjoy stalking me will find me picnicking over pork with oink-expert Lolita and Madeline. Lolita also joins Viviane in giving you a glimpse of my new footgear—and just like that, my knees are famous on the Internet.

Lily gets her priorities straight in a threesome with two boys whose priorities are anything but.

Astute stalkers will read between the lines of Anna Smash’s encounter with a stranger on a train—and stay tuned to journey’s end.

You won’t find me with Meg, as she has decided to ring the final bell on Tales of a Teacher and Slut. Dismissing her final assembly, she says of her experience as a sex blogger:

I've made some pretty awesome friends in the process. Friends I know I will have for quite some time.

Friends I'd really rather keep around forever, you know?

But the negative side effects of all this crazy and rather hastily woven web of who fucked who and who's jealous of who or angry about what? Well, that I'd rather not be a part of because my life without it?

Pretty fucking fantastic.

Preach it, sister. We’ll miss your voice, but you won’t miss the headaches of blog drama.

Speaking of first impressions, Lillie has lately enjoyed a few culinary firsts. The other day, as she snacked over homework in a café, she mused on food.

“You know how we went on that field trip to Little Italy?” she said, biting into a mozzarella and basil melt. “At school?”

“I do,” I replied, sipping my coffee. “Use a napkin, baby.”

“Oh, right.” She wiped her chin, chewing as she talked. “Well, we were at a restaurant, and—oh! In the bathroom, I saw someone had written the ‘f’ word.” She giggled.

“Oh dear, that’s no good,” I tsked. “So what did you do at the restaurant?”

“What do you think we did? We ate stuff.”

“I assumed as much. Stuff like . . .”

“Well, you know those Italian cookies, biscotti? We had those with expresso.”

“’Espresso,’ not ‘expresso.’ Wait, your teacher gave you coffee?”

“Hmm hmm, to dip it.” She held up her sandwich and eyed my cup. “Sa-aa-ay . . . “

“No way, Miss Thing, not in my coffee.” I covered the cup with my palm. “So what else did you eat?”

“There were these things, I forget what they’re called . . . another Italian cookie. Do you know what they are?”

“Um, macaroons?”

“Yeah, yeah, we had those, but I meant the other ones.” She looked at her fingers she imagined holding the cookie her mind saw but could not name. “They looked like this,” she said, drawing a swirl in the air. “Rainbows, long and skinny.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, honey. Cannoli?”

“Yeah, yeah—no, not that, but we had those, too. Did you know that cannoli is a tube with filling, right? And do you know what ‘cannoli’ means in Italian?”

“I do not.”

“It means ‘a tube with filling.’ Isn’t that so funny?”

“That is funny. And good, right? I like cannoli.”

She lifted her sandwich. “It was so good.” She took a bite and chewed. “You know what else I saw? A sign that said, ‘Parking for Italians Only.’” She giggled. “And another one that said, ‘You Take-a My Space, I Break-a Your Face.’”

I laughed at the mobster rolling out of my daughter’s mouth.

“Isn’t that so funny? I mean, how can you break a face?”

“I don’t think I want to know that,” I smiled.

“Then don’t take-a my space.” We laughed again.

“Well, it sounds like you had fun trying new things.”

“Yeah yeah, it was cool.” She nodded and took a sip of a banana and strawberry smoothie. “Oh guess what I had the other day with Mom? We went to McDonalds and I had a Big Mac—and I ate the whole thing!”

“No way!” I said, raising an eyebrow. “You mean to tell me that you ate twoallbeefpattiesspecialsaucelettucecheesepicklesonionsonasesame seedbun?”

Lillie dropped her jaw. “What?”

I leaned forward. “You are telling me that you ate twoallbeefpatties specialsaucelettucecheesepicklesonionsonasesameseedbun?”

She sat back. “What are you saying?”

“Oh, that’s the ingredients of a Big Mac,” I said knowingly. “Twoallbeef pattiesspecialsaucelettucecheesepicklesonionsonasesameseedbun.”

She squinched her nose. “Two whole beef . . . “

“Not ‘two whole beef,’ silly. Everyone knows it's twoallbeefpatties specialsaucelettucecheesepicklesonionsonasesameseedbun.”

Lillie waved her hands. “I don’t know what you are saying!”

“Let me break it down. Two all beef patties . . .”

She listened intently. “Two all beef patties . . .”

“ . . . special sauce . . .”

“ . . . special sauce . . .”

“ . . . lettuce, cheese . . .”

“ . . . lettuce, cheese . . .”

“ . . . pickles, onions . . .”

“ . . . pickles, onions . . .”

“ . . . on a sesame seed bun.”

“ . . . on a sesame seed bun.”

“Good,” I said. “Now, let’s do it faster.”

Before my coffee cup was empty, she could recite the ingredients of a Big Mac.

She looked amazed. “How do you know how to do that, Dad?”

I sat back and folded my arms. “I know how to do a great many impressive things.”

“You have to let me teach Collie. Please?”

“Of course, honey.”

Lillie raced to her brother when we met him at school. Collie was similarly impressed at the recitation of a Big Mac’s ingredients. “How did you . . . ?” he began.

“Easy!” Lillie said, putting her hair behind her ears. “Two all beef patties . . .”

“ . . . two all beef patties . . .”

“ . . . special sauce . . .”

“ . . . special sauce . . .”

At home that evening, Collie initiated Jason into our Big Mac club.

After school the next day, Collie ran to me with his friend Giovanni. “Do it for him, really fast.”

“Sure,” I nodded. I leaned close and lowered my voice. “Twoallbeefpatties specialsaucelettucecheesepicklesonionsonasesameseedbun.”

Giovanni looked at me, then at Collie. “Whoa, what did he say?”

Collie broke it down for Giovanni.

“That’s beast,” Giovanni marveled. “How do you know that?”

“I’ll tell you the truth,” I said. “It’s a trick I picked up from a commercial when I was a kid. Most grown ups my age can do that. Ask your parents.”

“Wait, I need to learn this,” Giovanni said. He concentrated. “Two all beef patties . . .”

“ . . . special sauce . . . ” Collie added.

“ . . . lettuce, cheese . . . ” I went on.

“ . . . picklesonionsonasesameseedbun,” Collie concluded.

“Whoa,” Giovanni said.

The next morning at school, we ran into Giovanni. “Hey there,” I waved. “Did you ask your parents about twoallbeefpattiesspecialsaucelettuce cheesepicklesonionsonasesameseedbun? Did they know it?”

“Nah, they don’t know anything,” Giovanni said. “They’re from Italy.”