‘Tis the season to be cuffing, Fa la la la la, la la la la. Yep, you heard me right: cuffing. “What’s cuffing?!” I hear you ask, perplexed. Let me hand this explanation over to Ye Olde Urban Dictionary:
‘During the Fall and Winter months people who would normally rather be single or promiscuous find themselves along with the rest of the world desiring to be “cuffed” or tied down by a serious relationship. The cold weather and prolonged indoor activity causes singles to become lonely and desperate to be cuffed.’
Cuffing season is among us, choose wisely people.
— BillionDollarInfant (@SmokinnOkiee) November 22, 2016
So, there you have it. In penguin terms, cuffing is the equivalent of huddling for warmth (where ‘huddling’ means ‘shagging’ and ‘warmth’ means ‘to keep crippling despair and loneliness at bay’). I’ve spent many a winter cuffing my sweet ass off. I didn’t have the vernacular to describe it as such at the time, but cuffing I sure as hell was. The single life was liberating but the winter’s were cold – oh, so cold! – and the nights were long – oh, so long! – and season 7 of Real Housewives had come to a gloriously messy end (truthfully, that was the kicker). It was decided: I wanted some consistent D. I wanted mulled wine and missionary. Ice-skating and sexy mating. Festivities and fellatio. White Christmas and cunnilingus. (I’ll stop now.)
Ultimately, my efforts were futile and I ended up placing an embarrassingly large order with LoveHoney (if you don’t know, get to know). My pickiness was my undoing; I refused to believe I deserved any less than a Ryan Gosling. The silver lining? My rampant rabbit and I spent a magical few months together. The regrets? So. Much. Wasted. Time.
With that in mind, I’m here to suggest a few semi-serious ways you could spend the festive season that don’t involve seeking out sexy scent signals like a sniffer dog at a drugs bust. No judgement here, people! Simply an imparting of wisdom (mediocre advice) from a woman who so furiously swiped through Tinder, she experienced a 24-hour hand cramp.
* Buy yourself a top of the range vibrator. One to be reckoned with. The Nimbus 3000 of dildos. The Flemish Giant of the rabbit world (google it). Gold plated, if you must. Actually, yeah: gold mother-effing plated! In other words: TREAT YO’SELF.
* Watch Real Housewives. Any of them will do. New York. Beverly Hills. Orange County. Immerse yourself in the lives of the wholly unrelatable. You’ll be so emotionally exhausted by the end of it, you won’t be able to move. Let alone shag.
* On a similar note: watch Seven Pounds. I swear to god, I couldn’t shag for MONTHS after that movie. I still tear up when I think of Ezra. (You will, too.)
* Write a few haikus. They are a piece of piss. Would I lie to you? (See!)
* Sink some time into brainstorming an Instagram account that goes viral and makes us (I mean you) millions. Think Doug the Pug but BETTER. Delian the Chameleon, perhaps?
* Try a Pumpkin Spice Latte, won’t you? Basic bitches, be damned. You need to see what all the fuss is about.
* Indulge in a social media deletion spree. Honestly, few things feel better than hitting ‘unfriend’ on an old classmate who shares posts from Britain First. Asshole.
* Go to the dentist! When was the last time you paid your tooth doctor a visit? Two years ago? Thought as much. Just do it, OK? I don’t mean to be *that* person but if I’m gonna get you hooked on sugar-loaded lattes then the least I could do is oversee your oral health.
* Hit me up! Not for a shag, ofc (I’ve already told you; I’m out of the cuffing biz), but I’ll gladly cast judgement over your Friends list while guzzling a Pumpkin Spice Latte. Chin chin!