helen fisher
When a man loses desire, should he turn to tits or tablets?
Newsweek had an interesting article today that actually touted the health benefits of married men viewing porn.
The article asked the (not often) debated question: what's the best fix for low testosterone: good, old-fashioned Jenna Jameson or the pharmaceutical industry? After all, neither are blameless diet-exercise-and-get-plenty-of-sleep solutions; it's pretty easy to judge weird drugs on the market and strange women on your living room T.V. Porn: When It Helps & When It Hurts
Apparently (and this was news to us) men lose 1% of their testosterone yearly after they reach the age of 30. They lose … Read More
The ugly truth is that looks matter.
Just last week we were extolling the virtues of being a late arrival to the pretty game.
"Being a late bloomer," our clever blogger Jed wrote, "usually means you're either super smart, really good at something, or used to be, well, less attractive. In any of these cases, it's a positive."
Indeed, wouldn't most of us — if forced to choose between the two — rather grow into our looks than out of them? We think so. But that got us to thinking about something else: What happens if you start off not so pretty and never grow out of it?
According … Read More
In dating and marriage personality type determines who makes a good match, says Helen Fisher.
What's your type? Talk, dark and handsome? Short, bald and chubby? Muscular, unavailable and angry? How about Explorer, Builder, Negotiator or Director? These are the four personality types that anthropologist Helen Fisher coined during her research into why we fall in love with certain people but not others. According to Fisher, interpreting these types can help you navigate the dating ocean and net the perfect tuna (or man, if that's what you prefer).
Fisher, author of Why We Love: the Nature and Chemistry of Romantic Love, built on her investigation of genetics and neurochemistry for her latest book, … Read More
What's behind love's highs and lows? Chemistry, the author finds.
When Paul, my future husband, kissed me for the first time, it was sweet and sexy and sort of salty—the way a kiss by the ocean should be, if you had thought to imagine it that way.
We made a date to kiss the next day, which didn't come soon enough. We met again and again after that. We spent hours hunched over pitchers of beer or tall iced coffees, our ankles intertwined, our eyes locked, our faces just inches apart. Quickly, without thought or deliberation, we traded coffee shops and sports bars for his studio apartment. Our tussles were … Read More