February 1, 2012 § Leave a comment
So they got another one now, another experimental method of male birth control. This one is, they immerse you in salt water and shoot ultrasound rays at your nuts to disable your sperm. And by “you” I mean, rats, for now. But it’s looking promising.
This comes to us from India, home of the last new thing in male birth control, the injection of a coated chemical “tube” into your vas deferens. Or something like that. They put this wall coating onto an existing tube in your nuts and it’s like flypaper or ant bait for your sperm. This sounds fine except it involves a thick needle injected through your scrotum and then deep into the nut tisssue itse— aaaahh. Gah. No.
But the new thing, where they dip you in salt water and shoot rays at your nuts: yes. Yes, give me that. If it’s reversible. Sounds like this one just goes away on its own, it just takes a certain amount of time for the mangled sperm to grow back.
But whatever you do, I mean, fucking come on and do SOMETHING. We need a method of male birth control that isn’t the condom, whose primary purpose in contraception is to make fucking such a pleasureless chore that I’d rather watch TV. The condom, which has prevented many STD’s as a girl has said to me “we need to get a condom” and I said “nah, fuck it, I’m going home.” We need to get rid of these fucking things. I’ll wear a condom if I’m with a hooker, or in a country where more than 3% of the population has ringworm. Or if it comes down to selling my cock under the freeway. I’ll wear a condom. Other than that, no, and it’s fucking ridiculous how condom use, and being nagged about condom use—how this has become so god damn prevalent. People my age are in a lost generation of sex paranoia. We have internalized the idea that there’s a massive chance that you will get heterosexual AIDS and that a penis merely being in the same room as a vagina will get you pregnant and 70% of the sexually active population is estimated to have massive grapelike clusters of seeping genital warts and you can catch herpes even if the other person doesn’t have an outbreak and while HPV, the silent killer, doesn’t seem like it’s doing anything now, it lurks in your cervix and gives you cancer and you’re going to spend your last days looking like Powder and shitting into a bedpan thanks that one time that you FUCKED, you harlot, outside of the sanctity of a monogamous marriage between two virgins. Except for the ninety nine point nine nine nine times out of one hundred that HPV does not do this. Except for the ninety nine point nine nine nine times out of one hundred that it does nothing, to the extent that you can’t even test for it. It has no symptoms, it has no effects, there’s no way of knowing who is infected, but we’re pretty sure YOU have it, because you fucked that one time. « Read the rest of this entry »
January 25, 2012 § Leave a comment
“My own view is that female sexuality is inherently more fluid than male sexuality, and that lesbians and bisexual women, because they are less fixated on crude physical signals for arousal, have more of a choice than men, gay or straight, in their choice of loved ones. I think this is about the difference between lesbian identity and gay male identity. For all the attempt to corral us into one vowel-free liberal conglomerate, I know few communities less alike than lesbians and gay men.”
That is a beautiful and succinct way of putting it. Let me put it another way: my sexuality is tectonic plates miles thick and thousands of miles broad grinding away beneath the earth’s crust on incomprehensibly powerful tides of magma, grinding and crushing and destroying and building up vast pressures sapped only momentarily by hellfire explosions and earth-shattering quakes that ruin civilizations and crush lives. Your sexuality, womankind, is a toy house made of toothpicks and gumdrops that you can disassemble and restructure on a whim. Your sexuality is as the mustard seed, small and unassuming but capable of flowering into something beautiful, delicate and complex under exactly the right circumstances. My sexuality is the fucking SUN. « Read the rest of this entry »
January 25, 2012 § Leave a comment
I am being successfully trolled by a fake OKCupid account purporting to be a 21 year old local woman. I am aware that I am being trolled; that somewhere on my beloved Reddit or 4chan or some other message board a neckbeard in Saskatchewan is eagerly awaiting my showing up at some place with a security camera that he’s hacked into, ready to photoshop my face into foreveralone.jpg. Or it’s Chris Hansen. The girl is going to casually drop at some point in the conversation—a 15 email thread by now, which I would never tolerate except this troll is just so god damn motherfucking masterful—she is going to casually drop that she is actually 17 years old but her parents are gone for a long weekend now that Tahoe finally has snow and would I like to come over and bring a nice bottle of wine, her tastes are surprisingly sophisticated for such a young girl… I’m going to go and be told “have a seat” and after tearfully insisting that I was just there to warn her I’ll be told that I’m free to go only to be unceremoniously tackled to the sprinkler-muddy turf by a Whittier police sergeant built like Butterbean. They won’t have to ask me “if you’re here to warn her, why did you bring condoms?” Because of course I won’t be bringing fucking condoms. Fucking a 17 year old with a condom would be like looking at the Sistine Chapel through glass security block. « Read the rest of this entry »
January 25, 2012 § 1 Comment
You got two options: she’s either never going to give you the picture, or she’s going to be ugly. That’s it. And yet I bite, every single fucking time. I get a message from a girl who is pixellated out or black bar over the face or simply, you know, an Ansel Adams photograph or some shit and I bite every time. Because I have to know.
And no matter how many times—it’s either nothing, or ugly, every single fucking time—I still can’t just trust myself and internalize the fucking rule. I can’t take a second and reason with myself. Like, anyone who doesn’t list their body type– do you think they have a spectacular fit body? A guy who doesn’t list his height- do you think he’s dunking on (I cannot name a single defensive NBA player)? Do you think a dude who doesn’t list his income is hiding Mitt Romney levels of untaxed capital gains in the Caymans and that’s why it’s gotta be a secret? No. No. If someone is not explicit about a piece of information on OKC it is because whatever quality they’re hiding is a liability to the point of freakishness. « Read the rest of this entry »
January 19, 2012 § 1 Comment
So, because I see you, DT, more than anyone; because I love you, I prefer your company, etc; because of all of that, you’re my “primary”. The fact that I fuck other people makes me poly. I know this, because some poly asshole I fucked once out of boredom just emailed me to tell me so. Even though I said that I wasn’t poly, he claims that I am. He must be right.
Now that I’m poly, what should I do? You said that I need to speak and write sanctimoniously about being poly.
And I’ll need to gain more weight
Maybe become Wiccan
I’ll need to flirt stupidly and disgustingly in public places with overweight guys with long hair and ring beards, but stop them from tying me up with the hemp rope they keep in their backpacks by telling them that my primary needs to approve first « Read the rest of this entry »
January 19, 2012 § Leave a comment
The TL,DR is that the AIDS Healthcare Foundation and other worrywart types have been trying to get condoms mandated in porn for years. After various failed tactics, they went for a city council ordinance, which covers the San Fernando Valley. The epicenter of American porn production. The idea is that no politician anywhere, ever, can vote for being slack on any kind of fucking-related business without having their career incinerated so except for the one brave soul who voted nay, they all had to go along with it.
And now there are going to be surprise inspections where regulators show up to porn sets and look at the dick going in the vagina, or butthole, and make sure there’s a condom on it. Which for me, only cements my decision to never watch porn made domestically by a major studio again, ever.
January 15, 2012 § Leave a comment
The feeling of being in love with someone who loves you back is literally unattainable. Because the very fact of being in love with someone makes them not love you. Your choices are:
A) Unrequited love
B) Cool apathy that gets you the person you thought you wanted, but because of the apathy necessary to get them, you don’t want them anymore.
That’s it. There is no other option. One party will always have contempt for the other. Your choice is to be the contemptuous or the contemptible. You don’t want either one? Too bad. I don’t want Sudanese kids getting kidnapped and enslaved but them’s the fucking breaks. Whatever you feel, that you think will bring you joy, will only work against you. Until you DIE. From BEES. BEES with AIDS.