Some common mistakes I see Sugar Babies making

Ok, my droogies, let’s get off of the topic of the disaster which is the Little Treasure’s wedding, and focus back on the whole topic of Sugaring.

As I look through the personal ads on various media where SB’s post their stats, I see some mistakes that happen over and over, and which usually mark those ads that are up for about six days and then end in frustration.

First of all, your nick name. Don’t call yourself, “Princess,” “Goddess,” “Queen” – you likely think they’re empowering. In fact, you’re telling prospective Sugar Daddies, “I am REALLY high maintenance.”

Second, in the body of your ad, don’t say, “I deserve this lifestyle.” Now you’ve just loudly proclaimed, “I’ve got issues and, most likely, baggage from other guys who’ve wronged me, and you’re going to pay for their crimes.”

If you’re going to put up a profile pic, smile in it. Do something fun. If you’ve got nice cleavage or a firm ass or seductive legs, then let’s see them! And, seriously, what the hell is up with you girls who take pictures of yourselves behind the wheel of your car? Do you not understand that there is NO WAY to look good with a seat belt on?

Putting in your description a list of things you hate or won’t do is an exceptional turn off and, again, you’re telling the world you’re carrying a lot of baggage. And while it’s great to say you have kids, don’t say, “My kids are everything to me and always come first.” First of all, that’s implied and, second, what you’re saying now is, “I don’t have a lot of time, and I will cancel on you frequently.”

If you don’t want your daddy to think he’s going to have you over his knee with your panties around your ankles, then don’t mention 50 Shades of Gray. I know – most people who talk about it have neither seen the movie nor read the book. That doesn’t make it cool to be one of them.

Now, here’s the big one: lying about your age:

You know why most guys look for a girl SO much younger than they are? Because most women lie about their age, so in order to get someone in her 40’s, I look for someone in her 30’s.

You might think that the 10 year old picture that you’re posting of yourself is going to fool someone, but in fact, hair styles have changed a LOT in 10 years, and while I might not know WHAT is wrong, I’ll know something is wrong, and now I’m suspicious of you. Also, airbrushing or paintbrushing wrinkles around your eyes might convince YOU, it will just look like an altered picture to me.

Most women just lie and don’t change anything, if they chose to lie. Again, a 40 year old doesn’t look like a 30 year old, and the same can be said for 30 and 20. Men look at pictures. A LOT. The Internet is all about images, and we’re all about the Internet. You are going to do SO much better saying, “I’m 45 but have the energy of a 25 year old,” than saying, “I’m a 35 year old,” when you’re 45.

The other end of the scale here – if you lie about being an adult, you can get your SD into a world of hurt that he won’t be able to do anything about. If, for example, you say you’re 18 and you’re 16, and you fly out to meet an adult male, the moment you make contact he’s a felon. In most states, a guy can’t say, “She lied to me about here age,” as a defense – it’s assumed that all men ask all women for their IDs before they start dating.”

What’s more – you do this once, come to your senses, go home, and a year later tell your mom about it. He can STILL go to jail!

That’s it for today, my droogies. I’ll have a better update for you later

Love always



Some words from the father of the bride

Hello, my droogies. This isn’t really an SD post, though I know a lot of you hope to marry some day. I thought I’d share this.

As you may know, or have guessed, or have chuckled over, the Little Treasure (IE my daughter) is getting married in a couple weeks.

Originally I was going to bring the new girl to the fiesta, before she disgraced herself. You can look back in the blogs for that. It’s going to be about 40 people, mostly friends of the Little Treasure, at a local place designed for such things as weddings, with lots of places to take pictures and park and eat and get dressed and other such things as those crazy enough to get married might do.

Yours truly is not one to spend the value of a house on a wedding ceremony. I actually used to sell to Disney World back in my sales/ really heavy drinking days, and I used to see what people would spend on a fairy tale wedding. I think for the price, you could probably cultivate some actual fairies if you had the equipment already. I spoil the Little Treasure, but that just ain’t happening.

And, as you who follow me know, when she wants something, she pretty much wants it, so not having the money for things like a honeymoon, or a cake, or a reception dinner, or shoes, isn’t going to slow her up from HAVING it, so not only did I pay for the wedding but I paid for their honeymoon, which is a 5 day cruise to the Caribbean. That, by any standards, is a pretty good honeymoon, especially considering I got them a balcony suite.

So imagine my surprise when I am informed by the Little Treasure that I am invited to the Bachelor Party, making me one of four people, the other three being the groom, his dad, and my ex-wife’s 3rd husband, “Wide Load.”

Well, there’s a hell of a party, huh? If I go I’m getting a limo because, let’s face it, a DUI is NOT the way anyone wants to start the Little Treasure’s wedded life (unless I’m sure that Wide Load is driving). The idea of the party, however, sparked me on a different question.

“LT,” I asked my daughter, via text on Facebook, “is there a reception dinner being planned?”

“I think we’re all going dutch the night before,” she informed me.

Seriously, what the fuck? I already don’t particularly like this guy, are you telling me that this friendless dimwit ALSO lacks the courage to tell his parents, “Hey, shell out $200 for your only kid to have dinner with the guy who’s spending ten large on the wedding AND the honeymoon.”?

So I told her pretty much that. She’ll talk to him. That means she’ll take him by the ear in front of his parents, the idiots.

I’m just waiting to find out that he no longer wants a reception dinner, meaning that maybe they’re no longer invited to the wedding.

Hey, it isn’t like this is going to be her last wedding.

My droogies, be you male or female, yes, it IS the father’s responsibility to spend some amount of cash on getting rid of his beloved daughter, turning her over to another man to be HIS sink hole for money. This does not mean that he is standing on an island, watching the events go by. Marrying people with no money, even if you yourself have no money, may sound romantic, and I know it worked for some friends of mine, but in fact they’re all divorced now, and the reason always is that very few people want to STAY poor, and when you’ve got money, you aren’t living life like you were when Ramen was a staple in your diet.

So if this happens to you, and you find you’re leaning this heavily on ‘daddy,’ ask yourself not, “Why does dad bite my head off now whenever I come over,” but instead, “Wow – do I REALLY want to be the person who stares wide-eyed at those prices at Big Lots?”

My love, my droogies!


Are you really smart enough to be a Sugar Baby?

You know, I’ve never asked this, but maybe I should.

Hey, my droogies. I know – I’ve been ignoring you, but work has been hectic and The Little Treasure is getting married next month, and that’s it’s own whole ball of cats.

Meanwhile, I met a woman whom I thought was a nice girl. By nice, I mean the usual: young, very large breasts and a willingness to go out with yours truly. Actually, at 30, she has a body that would be perfectly acceptable on any number of adult magazines or websites, but I digress.

Big cans and a willingness to trade money for sex does not necessarily a Sugar Baby make, and this is what I quickly realized with a girl I’ll call ‘Big Guns.’

We met, and she was wearing a black dress that revealed a good amount of cleavage. Her hair is brunette, long, tied back over one shoulder, and she has big brown eyes and full lips with a kind of chocolate lipstick I hadn’t seen before.

It was a kiss-on-the-cheek greeting, but she still managed to rub my upper arm with a nipple. We sat down at a table near the bar at a restaurant I liked. She ordered wine.

“What kind would you like?” the waiter asked.

“Red,” she said.


“Um – do you have a favorite kind?”

She thought a moment. “No,” she said. “Just red.”

Well, not everyone is a connoisseur. “I think she’s probably like a Pinot,” I said. “I’ll take a ,” and I put it like that because only this bar sells that beer.

The waiter leaves, now we have some time to talk.

“So,” I said, as she sat there, very much as she would if someone were painting her, “what got you into the whole SD/SB thing?”

“Oh,” she said, “I got tired of meeting all poor guys. I don’t want to go out with the shift supervisor at Wal Mart.”

I nodded. “And what are you looking for, then?”

“Something long term.”

Ugh – get out the extraction equipment. I hate having to pull teeth.

“Something like…?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Didn’t you say you lived in Florida?”

“Yes,” I said. “I really hated Florida.”

“I could try Florida,” she said. “I think it would be nice.”

Well, ok – that’s pretty much right out of the gate. I could blame my cologne but I don’t wear any.

“Oh,” I said.

“Or Maryland,” she added. “My son likes lacrosse. My daughter would like to ride horses.”

“I have horses, my daughter rides,” I offered.

She looks right at me. “I’m looking for something serious,” she said. “Long term.”


“I got that,” I said.

The waiter brought the drinks. We both drank and it was kind of a relief not to talk to her. But you know me, my droogies. Just because the water is cold, doesn’t mean I won’t dive in again.

“So have you met a lot of guys?” I asked her. This is usually a lead in question to get her to talk about the wannabes who pass themselves off as SD’s. Every woman has a few real winners to talk about.

“No,” she said.

“Oh,” I said.

“I’m looking for something long term,” she said. “Not a lot of guys.”

“I got that,” I said.

She went to being quiet again.

And this was the WHOLE DATE, my droogies. She had the social skills of a chia plant. It was unnerving.

So it became time to end this, and I paid the bill. This is never good when you clearly didn’t get along. Sugaring isn’t dating – there’s really no, “Well, want to have dead-end sex, seeing as I don’t plan to call you again and you don’t want me to?”

“Walk you to your car?” I asked.

“It’s around the corner,” she said.

I nodded and we started walking. Fortunately it was on the way to my car. She drove a Mirage – wow. I don’t think they’ve made those for more than 10 years.

She turned around at the car and said, “When do you want to see me again?”

WHAM! What date were you on? I swear, I thought I bored the socks off of this girl. We weren’t out for 2 hours and it felt like five.

“Well, I get that you’re looking for something long term,” I said. “What sort of arrangement do you want?”

The street lights shined like little stars in her completely vacant brown eyes.

“A weekly allowance, a pay-as-you-go, being a live-in?” I prompted her.

She thought about that. She looked up at me.

“Yeah,” she said.

I kissed her, and I walked away before she could ask for money.

I know I’ve said in the past, “There are three types of SB’s” but are there four?

How do you all feel about, “Girls who might not be aware they’re doing this?”

Carry on, my droogies!