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us·er pool [yü-zer pül] 

In the world of technology, a User is someone who uses a computer. More specifically, it's someone who asks stupid questions about the use of that computer.

In the context of this blog, a Pool refers to an available supply, the use of which is shared by a group.

At one of the largest entertainment companies in Los Angeles, my job is to provide technical direction and support to these users, many of whom are female. That's where things get a little messy...

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Entries in sexolepsy (3)


Employee Relations

What's worse than having sex with someone who works for you? Having sex with two people who work for you. It's not an ethical issue (for me); it's a question of complication. It's complicated enough having sex with the Users. 

Knipples still wants me to have sex with her, even though she falls asleep every time we start having sex. And even though she never knows we're having sex because of her Sexolepsy, she thinks it's the greatest sex she's ever had.

But when I have sex with Knipples, it feels like date rape or necrophilia. Which would be fine if I were into either one of those things. But I'm not, so it's very difficult for me to have sex with her even though I'm the best sex she's ever had asleep.

The other issue is that she works for me. I swore I would never have sex with anyone who worked directly for me. But since she's asleep during sex, it's as if I never did it. Which makes it almost worth doing again, except for the fact that the reason I can fuck my own employee is the same reason I cannot fuck my own employee.  

Tabbatha is also a direct report. She's very cute, but I'm not attracted to her because she's too sweet for me. Which is why I felt safe asking her if she wanted to have a drink with me after work sometime. She accepted the invitation for drinks which is why I can no longer have a drink with her after work sometime. Nobody that sweet has drinks with me after work. And if she's not really that sweet, I'll become attracted to her and try to have sex with her. 

In summary: I can have sex with Knipples because she sleeps through it, which is also the reason I can't have sex with Knipples. I can have a drink with Tabbatha because she's so sweet, but only if she refuses to have a drink with me. Since she didn't refuse to have a drink with me, so I can no longer have a drink with Tabbatha. 

I'm supposed to have a drink with Tabbatha tomorrow night and have sex with Knipples on Thursday night. I need to get out of both situations. What happened to the good old days when I used to just fuck the clients?


Dysfunctional Relationship Management

I'm convinced that a good relationship boils down to the number of stories you have to exchange.

Once you run out of stories to tell each other or begin repeating stories, the relationship is over. Then you become that couple sitting at dinner who doesn't speak to each other. We all make fun of that couple until we become that couple. 

The beauty of a dysfunctional relationship is that it can go on for years independent of the stories you have to tell. 

Blair and I have a near perfect dysfunctional relationship

Our relationship is based on a dysfunctional cycle that continuously repeats or varies slightly and repeats and somehow never seems to get old. Here's a sample of that cycle:  

  1. Blair and I get together and have passionate sex.
  2. The next day, I'm in a great mood.
  3. Blair assumes that I'm in a great mood because I'm fucking someone else.
  4. Blair starts spying on me because she thinks I'm in a great mood because I'm fucking someone else.
  5. Although I am always fucking someone else, the day after I fuck Blair, I have to pretend to appear like I'm not fucking anyone else.
  6. The more I pretend to appear that I'm not fucking anyone else, the more she becomes suspicious that I'm fucking someone else. 
  7. After spying on me for a couple of days and once it becomes clear that I can't possibly be fucking anyone else, Blair is absolutely convinced that I'm fucking someone else. 
  8. Blair gets angry and starts ignoring me completely.
  9. Blair expects me to pay more attention to her because she's ignoring me, but instead I pay less attention to her by ignoring her back.
  10. The more I ignore Blair, the more she pays attention to me. 
  11. The more Blair pays attention to me, the more she wants me.
  12. The more Blair wants me, the more she thinks I must want her too and can't possibly be fucking anyone else because I want her so much.
  13. Once that happens, we're on again.
  14. We fuck and the cycle starts over. 

As I mentioned, there are variations to this cycle. For example, sometimes I don't say things she's thinking I should say at the moment she imagines me saying it. She will work out entire conversations in her head that she somehow expects me to also hear and then repeat with her. When that doesn't happen, she wants to cut my balls off. 

Then we're just angry at each other until we both get more horny than angry and we fuck again.

We're in the "Off" stage of the cycle right now, and although I pretend to appear like I'm not fucking anyone else, that's the time I fuck other women the most. 

I'm thinking of giving Tabbatha the Sexoleptic another chance. But I'm taking her to Starbucks for a quad first. 



It's never a good idea to have sex with someone who works for you. Which is why I never hire hot women. Not that there's an over abundance of hot women in the field of technology, but you do occasionally come across a candidate that doesn't fit the geek profile. At all.

If I hire a hot woman, no matter how professional I keep it, sooner or later I will rationalize that professionalism right into the bedroom. 

Thus, my personal recruitment rule: Do not hire hot women. 

A few weeks ago, I hired two additional staff members. Both women. Both hot.  

I was never good at following rules, even my own. 

But I had reasons for breaking this rule. First, I didn't hire the web designer because she's hot. That would be absurd and shallow. I hired her because her last name is "Knipples." Yes, she's talented, and that was certainly a factor, but hot or not, there was no way I could pass up hiring a woman whose last name is Knipples.  And I guarantee this: I will never call her by her first name.

The second woman I hired is a business analyst. Her name is Tabbatha. She's hot, but not exactly my type. On the other hand, she's exactly the kind of woman who will make both Mulhausen and Fernandez blush and get all giddy around her. She's a slim blond with apple-sized tits, but doesn't really ooze sexuality. Instead, she oozes sweetness. She's not annoyingly sweet, but genuine.  Both my bosses will eat it up. And that will put me in a position to get things done that I might have otherwise struggled to achieve because they both hate me with a passion.

So really, there was nothing to worry about. I hired them for the right reasons.

Although I did have sex with Knipples last night.

Sort of.

She's cute, but skinny, flat-chested with a Peter Pan haircut. So I thought I'd be safe having drinks with her after work. It was her idea. But unlike Tabbatha, Knipples oozes sexuality. Especially when she gets alcohol in her. How was I supposed to know?

It wasn't long before we were back at her place having more to drink. That's the way it goes. Let's save some money and drink at my place. Right. 

Once there, it was only moments before I had her clothes off and we were bouncing on the couch. Well, futon couch.

But there I was thinking everything was going really well and all of a sudden Knipples fell asleep. 

That's right. Right in the middle of what I thought was a stellar performance on my part, she seemed to dose right the fuck off. 

I stopped. Gave her a little nudge. She woke up and looked up at me.

"Am I boring you?" I asked.

"No, not at all," she said. "I forgot to mention. I have Sexolepsy." 

I gave her a Scooby look and a "Ruh?"

"It's not a big deal," she continued. "It's like Narcolepsy, but it only happens during sex. Just keep fucking me. I'll wake up when I orgasm."

Um. Okay.

So I kept going, and once again, she fell asleep. Then I started thinking, this must be what it's like to be a necrophiliac. She's asleep, but she also looks kind of dead. And I can tell you right now, having done it last night, I don't like fucking dead people. 

So I tried to focus on her body, not the fact that her brain was shut off. Then I realized how truly young she looked. Skinny body, no tits, short little haircut. Then I felt like a pedophile. 

That was it. 

I got up, let her sleep, and left. So I don't really think that counts as having "sex" with your employee. In fact, I'm still not sure what it was. So in my mind, I haven't crossed any lines. And today, things shouldn't be awkward at all. 

I've been hiding in my office all day with the door shut. Just in case.