Dating, humor, Online Dating, Sex

Good American


Let’s talk about butt sex.

Like all other dates, I met this one on Tinder. Let’s call him… English.

English was the man most girls dreamed about — tall, dark, and a jaw line so sharp it could cut glass.

We arrived at the mutually agreed upon location in New York’s lower east side. Like clockwork, the hostess sat us next to a married couple who mirrored our… characteristics. The wife was an Asian woman who sat beside me while her husband was a tall white male who sat on the opposite side.

I watched as her husband struggled with his pair of chopsticks. “Oh. Yeah. I know, it takes a while to get used to…” I awkwardly consoled the husband while catching English wrestle with his own pair from the corner of my eye.

In an alternate reality, this couple could have been the future of English and me. Little did the universe know, English and I would never speak to each other again after tonight.

Dinner labored on as any other date. The usual questions and topics were discussed and complements were given in a timely manner. After we split the bill, we began to walk towards his Airbnb which was just around the corner from the restaurant – convenient.

Following a few minutes of dodging traffic, we arrived at a 4-storied brick building. English buzzed us into the lobby and we made our way to the top floor. We tried to access the roof but failed due to locked doors and an unknown security code. English grabbed my face and we began to kiss like high school kids hiding in a dark corner on prom night – sloppy, awkward, and horny.

He took me back to his Airbnb and asked if I wanted to “do something fun”. Fun? I immediately thought to myself that he was going to murder me.

“Let’s take a shower”, he said after he pulled a towel out from behind the door.

“Uh, what?” I replied. I naively asked myself why we needed to shower? We hadn’t even had sex yet.

He insisted that we hop into the shower and that it was going to be “a good time”. With hesitation and fear that the shower was going to be filled with mold and mildew, I reluctantly agreed. After all, he was only visiting form England and I wanted to show him “a good time”. I didn’t want the rest of the world’s malignant accusations of American girls to hold true. I wanted to be the good American.

Cold and wet.

He lathered my body and slowly worked his way down.

Blind to my surrounding with soap in my eyes, I felt him grab my butt cheeks and spread them apart – disturbed and shocked. I jumped before I heard him drop to his knees and thrust his face into my butt.

“Mother of Jesus pray for my soul because this is not holy!” I thought to myself.

It was all happening so fast. Did I like this? With slippery hands, I literally pulled his head out of my ass. Still blinded by the soap in my eyes I attempted to do a sexy hair flip which would hopefully position my butt away from his face. I ungracefully slipped and nearly hit my head on the shower wall. The shampoo bottles came tumbling down and the possibility of salvaging any remains of dignity were washed down the drain.

Fast forward to the bedroom – he had my knees wrapped tightly around my ears. With my legs sprawled out like heaven’s gate, he leaned back and gazed at my underside.

“Wow” he exclaimed with excitement. “WOW!” he said again. It was as if I was the latest Netflix obsession and my butthole was the star of the show. English nose-dived in.

I will save the details from this post for those readers with a faint heart. By the end of the night, I was drench in a pool of sweat and saliva, and confronted with a flaccid penis.

All this is to say that I think we as a society shy away from any indication that sex can happen in the less trodden terrain of your body – the butt. Roaming in the forsaken territory is considered unclean or appalling. However, in the heat of the moment, as long as both parties are privy to other’s actions pleasure is just pure pleasure.

XXX babe

Attractions, Dating, Dating Challenge, Girl Trip, humor, NYC, Online Dating, Travel, Uncategorized

Babeland Stamp of Approval: Woodstock


Need to get out of town with your lady gang? Go to Woodstock. It’s cute as shit and everyone is so gosh darn nice and the air doesn’t smell like diesel and stewing garbage. It’s the perfect get away to remind yourself, “Hey, nature exists outside of Central Park and it’s fucking magical.” So here are a few pics and tips from our trip to Woodstock:

Where should I stay? So glad you asked. We stayed in an Airbnb about a mile from the center of town. This house had so much going for it- tree house, forest, living room with disco ball and lava lamps big enough for a serious dance party, projector screen hooked up to a dvd player (might I suggest Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and She’s the Man), big kitchen, great host, super graphic books about sex, amazing location. Click here for the house.


While we were there, we fell in love with the Catskills so much that we made a reservation for our next trip 10 months in advance (you read that correctly- Babeland is comprised of serious planners who get off on iCal notifications) at The Graham and Co. It’s a cute hipster Instaworthy motel-y paradise in the middle of a lush forest. It’s also typically booked several months in advance so get on it. Bonus: there was a cute boy with a beard chopping wood out front when we were snooping around. He works there. Go find him and ask for wine and more fire wood.


What should I eat? We at Babeland would tell you to eat everything. But for those of  you who don’t order 4 dishes each when you go out with your girls, you can still trust that these recommendations are delicious.

Garden Cafe: Vegan and amazing. We went here for brunch on a chilly Saturday morning and it was packed (not NYC packed, but very full and we had to wait 5 minutes to sit down).


Vinny’s Farm Market: Want to make a nice home-cooked meal? Go to Vinny’s Farm Market. They have amazing produce and random German desserts and mind-blowing ciders. And if you’re lucky and go in September, you might catch them when they have GARLIC DONUTS. Sound weird to you? Then you’re not worthy of the pure bliss that is a donut that will stink up your entire car in the best possible way.


What should I do? Live the simple life. Go to the flea market. Sit in a cafe and drink some matcha/chai/coffee/whatever. Visit the local shops. Smoke some weed. Hike. Drop acid. Just live your best life.

Bottom Line: Go to woodstock. Go alone and find yourself or go with a group of people you love and laugh your asses off. You can’t lose.


Art Babe


Dating, Dating Challenge, humor, NYC, Online Dating

I Hate You, But I Love You


“Doctor by day, sexy Jon Snow by night.”

That was the description that date #1 had on his Tinder profile.

Doctor? Cool, must be smart. Sexy Jon Snow? Even better! Who doesn’t love an illegitimate Stark?

I figured that because this was my first date of The Challenge, it would be a great idea to go out for drinks with a fellow GoT fan. I mean, even if we don’t hit it out of the park at least we’ll have lots to talk about, right?

The date started pleasantly enough. I arrived at small bar in Kips Bay promptly at 5pm. Before entering, I took a ceremonious deep breath and said to myself, “Let’s do this!” – then walked inside like the diva that I am.

Skipping forward a beat, Snow walked through the door several minutes later, but alas, it was not love at first sight. From the moment I saw him, I knew our relationship wouldn’t last longer than one date. But I had a few hours to kill before I met up with my Babeland girls, and he seemed nice enough. Boy,  did I call that wrong. He was not a nice guy. He was, what my mom would call – after one or two margaritas – “a little shit.”

After learning about his job (he’s a psychiatrist), his family and glossing over a bevy of other first-meet questions, the conversation began to dwindle. That’s when he asked me about my tattoos, piercings and my recently-placed birth control implant (I still had the bandage over my arm, and a nasty bruise to go with it).

Now, while I’m a big fan of birth control, it’s not really a topic that I like to bring up on first-dates – mainly because it preludes to sex and I’ve found that guys can be a bit presumptuous. I mean, why can’t a first date just be about getting to know each other?! That said, he was a doctor, so the topic should be pretty safe. And it was. At first.

After continued conversation, we hit another lull – and that’s when he asked The Question:

So, I see that you have lots of piercings and tattoos… so you’re not afraid of needles…?

Umm… yeah. Sure, needles are cool. I guess. [Insert questioning look from me, here.]

So you you have a high tolerance for pain?

Well, I mean, I don’t think I’d withstand torture very well, but shots and things like that don’t bother me. (I think it’s important to note here, that I have a few piercings, but nothing crazy or out there. Just a nose stud and some ear piercings, as well as a few discreet tattoos.)

So, like… Does your tolerance for pain extend into the bedroom?

Wait. WHAT???? Did he seriously ask me that?

After a long pause Snow spoke up.

I’m sorry, was that inappropriate?

Seriously? Was that a question? HELL YES!

Yes, that was forward. That was really forward… I mean, just so you know, that was a very inappropriate question. 

There. I said my peace. While I could have (and should have) bounced right then and there, I still had 2 hours until I met up with my fellow Babes. What’s a girl to do? So I order another, stronger, drink.

To make a long story short, the rest of the date was relatively boring. I learned that we were very different people and had very different opinions. In fact, at one point, I escaped to the bathroom to text the group about my fiasco of a date, to which they said “bail now and come over early.” So I did just that. But not before Snow made one more statement: I can’t tell if I hate you, or if I love you. 


So with that, I bid the guy farewell, told him I hope to never see him again, and walked out the door like the boss betch I am.

But honestly though, no wonder the dude’s still single!

Love you betches!
Bossy Babe



Dating, Dating Challenge, humor, NYC, Online Dating, Uncategorized

A Walk In the Park


Date #3

Sunday morning. Skies are blue. Birds are chirping. It’s cold as shit. I’m not hungover. Sounds like the perfect day for a COFFEE DATE!!! Never been on one of these before, but how could it possibly be bad? One drink + sunshine = efficiency. I get my caffeine, vitamin D, and date all checked off at once. 

This guy was hot in his Bumble pics. He only had two- at the beach with his “sister” and playing tennis in an all white get-up (just to be clear, his clothes weren’t the hot part, his face was). He actually really looked like someone who lived in my college dorm that my roommate was madly in love with senior year but never actually pursued. Turns out, she’s part of this challenge, too. Suck it betch. But I digress…

I didn’t really know anything about this person other than that he lives 1.6 miles away from me and knows the difference between your and you’re. But I’m excited! The first date of The Challenge that isn’t approached with dread- THIS is what it’s all about.

We decided to meet at a coffee shop on the NW corner of Central Park at 1:00. I get there at 1:00 and sit in the February chill in my cute-but-cold coat because all the inconsiderate Columbia students are taking up the entire cafe. Oh, you have a thesis to write?? I’m in a dating challenge, so my work here is obviously more important. Just kidding. I fully support higher education and all the work that entails. I am also well aware that finding a seat in a cafe within walking distance from a university on a Sunday is like seeing a unicorn barf cronuts onto the Loch Ness Monster. It doesn’t happen.

He walks over about 15 minutes later and hubba, hubba. I’m so into it. Yeah, he was late, but I liked him anyway. He had a great smile. I’ve never dated anyone who comes anywhere close to being as smiley as me and I was already looking forward to our next date. We ordered; he laughed when I took a Hydro Flask out of my purse to fill up with black coffee. And we decided to take a walk through the park.

The conversation was great. He asked a ton of questions about my job (teacher) and was genuinely eager to hear about my experiences with kids in the city. He’s getting his MBA from Columbia. He graduated from a school in Canada with an engineering degree but wants to take over his dad’s civil engineering company, so it was off to business school in the states for him. We walked around for about an hour before sitting on a bench in the sun, trying to thaw out.

Oh, I forgot to mention that I had a vampire facial the day before. Yeah, one of those facials Kim K did in that gif. The process is cool and it’s helping a lot with my acne scars BUT it makes your skin peel like a bitch for a couple days and you can’t put anything but hyaluronic acid on your skin. So I was wearing a baseball hat and big ass sunglasses the whole time and my cheeks were red and peel-y. I didn’t think about it the entire date until we sat down face to face. Oh, well. If the conversation’s still going strong, he obviously doesn’t care and neither should I, but I still brought it up before parting ways.

I’m wearing a hat because I had a scar removal procedure done yesterday. I’m not trying to be creepy and not let you see my face. 

What? Oh, hahah! I didn’t even notice!

I just don’t want to get sunburned and look even scarier for my students. 

You could never look scary. 

I could if someone threw acid on me.

Yeah….Well, I had a really nice time! Are you busy this week? I’d like to see you again. Maybe get some drinks with alcohol in them? hahah

Oh, you didn’t spike your coffee, too? ….(Moment of awkward silence) But yeah, definitely! I’d love to get drinks this week. Are you free on Tuesday?

Ahh. I have a dinner Tuesday, but it’s early. Maybe drinks after? I’ll let you know tomorrow.

Okay, perfect. See you soon!

And that was it. No kiss. No hug. Just a dorky grin that spread across my face as I walked back through the park blowing up the group chat.

Love always,

Art Babe



Dating, Dating Challenge, humor, NYC, Online Dating

Vanilla Ice


Date #2

If I wasn’t writing this I would have already forgotten about this dud. For the sake of The Challenge, I’ll dig into the depths of my memory and attempt to extract at least a few moments of this date to write about. If you’re in the mood for a juicy story, find another post. Nothing exciting here; just another example of the vanilla dates everyone finds herself on at some point.

The pre-date texting was decent- a bit of wit, responded in an acceptable amount of time. I wasn’t super impressed with his pictures. Come to think of it, I don’t remember a single one. Oops. Coming off the Boobtastic Brit, I was a little apprehensive about this challenge, BUT a girl’s gotta power through, right? Plus, I’m a Leo. I don’t turn down challenges.

Day-of texts

Vanilla: I know this great Pho place in Chinatown. Interested? Or we could just get drinks. 

*Babe: Just drinks. It’s an easier escape if it turns out I’m crazy. 

Vanilla: Good thinking! Lol. Drinks it is. Whiskey Tavern in Chinatown okay? Pretty low key. 

Babe: Sounds good! 7:30?

Vanilla: See you then! 


Pretty typical text convo, I guess. I always prefer bars to dinner on the first date unless I’ve already met him because, obviously. I don’t have time to waste and thankfully I don’t have to rely on other people to eat (no shame, ladies…been there, done that).

So I get to Whiskey Tavern at 7:30. He does not. I sit down with a Guinness for about 15 minutes before he gets there and doesn’t apologize (asshole). I’m going to skip through our conversation. There was literally nothing interesting about this person and I’m pretty sure I volunteered minimal information about myself.

He finishes his beer before I do and he doesn’t ask for another one. Could it be?? A one drink date?? I’m glad we’re on the same page and you think I’m just as boring as I find you!! He pays for our drinks and turns to me.

Let’s head over to the Pho place. My reservation’s in 10 minutes.

Oh, we’re going to get dinner?  I specifically said JUST DRINKS.

Yeah, this place is so good. And cheap. 

Okay, okay. I could have held my ground and been like, um, bye. But it was cold, and Pho sounded amazefest. So I stood up to go. And he immediately regretted it. He did the up and down and I could sense the disappointment. He was about three inches shorter than me (I’m 5’6″) and I was wearing heeled booties. Apparently he’s not super comfortable with his height.

So we got Pho and it was SO good. And the conversation was non-existent. And I was being a childish betch and didn’t even touch the check because I was minorly irritated that he made dinner reservations when I explicitly said “just drinks”. And he was real awkward about paying. And then we walked to the train. And then we parted ways. Riveting, huh?

But every experience can offer a lesson. The lesson here was that Whiskey Tavern is near a dope Pho place.

Love always,

Art Babe