the idiosyncratic nature of porn preference, part four

This exchange totally fascinated me because all of these years Charlie and I have discussed cum in less specific terms and I figured we were into the same things, i.e., that our shared love for precum generalized to other forms of cum. But, among other reasons, Charlie and I are incompatible because we are into cum at different stages. We are both into precum, the process of cumming, and the substance as it comes out, but his appreciation stops there, while my adoration extends to the landing sequence.

 

Porn preferences are more idiosyncratic than practically anything else. With food, movies, etc., you can make recommendations based on taste, but it seems impossible to predict what people are into porn-wise. It is more specific, more instinctual. There is less rhyme and reason involved and the specifics are more integral to the experience, as it is about utility, not entertainment, enjoyment, or intellectual appreciation. With food, movies, etc., you can have an appreciation on a variety of levels, as in, you can laugh at a stupid movie and know that it is stupid and you can eat junk food and know that it is shitty. But with porn, your body either reacts or doesn’t. Which isn’t to say that I don’t appreciate absurd porn on a comedic level, but then it ceases to be porn and the standards applied become the same as the standards applied to something with purported cinematic value. See: New Wave Hookers, Vol. 5. No, please do see it. You won’t regret it. Or forget it, for that matter.

 

The video that this post links to is overly-graphic and repulsive but has artistic merit and is filmed creatively, showcasing their bodies in a way not possible with normal furniture/body part blockage. I appreciate the director for his ingenuity, resourcefulness. Previously, I had never seen the use of glass in porn besides in this gay cumshot comp where the last scene is ruined by a guy creepily scaling someone’s house and cumming on their window. Artistic merit in porn seems to be something that can be commonly enjoyed, regardless of taste, but when you take it to the level of pornographic utility, it is impossible to predict its value to anyone else. Sometimes I even surprise myself. 


P.S. Let me clarify the distinction between judgment, value, and taste as it pertains to porn versus other mediums:

Value vs. Judgment:

In most instances, your judgment/estimation of an object affects its value to you. Judgment and value are almost synonymous; judgment is the method by which you arrive directly at an object’s value to you. 

Value vs. Taste:

With porn, however, the utility is independent of your evaluation/cognitive stance. Utility and taste are almost synonymous; that which you consider in “poor taste” could still fall within the parameters of your taste. 


Posted in idiosyncratic nature of porn preference: part 4 | Leave a comment

the idiosyncratic nature of porn preference, part three

me: let me explain why i think this clip is an artistic marvel:

Charlie: ok

me: http://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=79c791b8b8c4b6adad16

forgive the title

[“tight pigtailed teen jammed on the dinner table”]

so, obv the thumbnail is amazing

the amount of foreskin is too much for my taste

and i hate the rough bj middle of vid

but the beginning and end

are so graphic

in a way that is showcased by the glass

and lack of it being in the girl’s mouth

at the end, you can see his dick like jumping out of his foreskin

like, the contractions are magnified by the table and lack of mouth for it to grip

and the cum is maybe even a little gross, because it is thick and not abundant and left there to play with afterwards (which i love but you hate)

Charlie: ok wow this is giving me a lot to look forward to ha

me: but the vid showcases cock in a way that most don’t

Charlie: its taking forever since im on shitty wireless

hmm ok nice

me: also, the best part is that the girl looks like blair from gossip girl

[pause the video at 5:22 for best results]

blair-porn-3

blair_gossip_girl

leighton_meester_2_by_david_shankbone2

Charlie: hahaha

i still havent seen gossip girl

i really need to get into that show

i know ill love it

me: yeah

and maybe you will even like the life-sized penis in this vid

but i’d say they are equally trashy

me: the vid and gg, that is

Charlie: hahaha

Charlie: my first impression is that i wish the guy wasnt so like eastern european looking

[he looks like gaston from beauty and the beast; pause the video at 14:20 and compare to page two of google image search results, for best results]

gaston-porn

gaston

beauty-the-beast-beauty-and-the-beast-1712784-960-540

me: yeah, i mean also we could do with out the ping pong clearly

Charlie: haha yeah

i dont mind that though

i love hilarious set ups

[from 16:21-16:28 it looks like he is using his dick as a cue stick]

me: never have i ever seen a glass ping pong table

[seems dangerous]

Charlie: ok one thing i dont like

starting to S D over the pants/boxers

oh i guess its all part of the ping pong game ha

me: hmm, i love mouths trailing over underwear

partially because i like the sensation

of getting licked through pants

Charlie: im sure the sensation is great its just for some reason underwear or pants getting covered in spit really grosses me out

so i like cant get past that

so im fine with like all kinds of rubbing just not actual spitty mouth on pants/underwear ha

me: ha, you are so interesting

what ground rules

no cum once out of the body, no non-human parts in vag, no spit on underwear

Charlie: yes hahaha

Charlie: ok finally his D is out

ok now the BJ is getting rough, i agree a little bit weird

his D is decently good but i just see like so many incredibly hot Ds in my gay porn sites

ok now theyre on the table…

i like when people do it in the position theyre in in porn just for viewing purposes

i like the way her tits flap

like that there is some kissing

i wish he would grab her neck or something though

or like pull her hair or head back

me: hmm, if you watched gg you would know that the nape of the neck is chuck’s kryptonite

Charlie: how many hot guys are there on gg?

ewwww this fingers in his mouth then fingers in her mouth thing is gross

im fine with him putting his fingers in her mouth but the alternating is weird

also i hate that in this position he looks like a frog

oh ok good theyre switching

oh ugh for purposes of porn though i dont like girl on top

i hate seeing the girls asshole

me: i love girls on top

i also like girls assholes in real life, though not so much in porn

but fingers in mouths is lame

i had this hs bf who liked seeing me lick my fingers

Charlie: hahaha

me: partially i think it was like, “ohh, my gf is sooo comfortable with her body”

for me is was like, “um, so i have to like emphatically eat my own cum?”

not that i cared

it was just superfluous

Charlie: yeah i feel you

like i have no problem with girls licking their fingers and thereby eating their cum

but yeah its nothing that great

but guys licking their own cum after they jerk off

makes me want to vomit

ok the part where he has his D on the table and shes like lapping at it and theres all this spit is absolutely disgusting too haha

thats another thing that grosses me out, spit like hanging off a D

or out of a girl’s mouth when shes giving head

maybe in real life im ok with that

but in porn im not

though now i totally get what youre saying about

this vid showing off the D in a way that few other if any pornos do

me: i love the spit part

but i have to say that what confuses me in porn

is that in real life my nose drips, my eyes water, i drool all over my face

obv so unappealing

but if you were really giving good head it would happen

Charlie: right yeah

but its like

in porn people, especially the women, are usually fake

and you usually think of them as, essentially, cum dumpsters

you dont want to see your cum dumpster’s true bodily functions

you just want her to be a doll with a pussy that gets wet, a mouth that sucks, a pretty face, and nice tits

that sounds really awful but thats how guys think of it

i mean i doubt im telling you anything you didnt know

me: i love the phrase “cum dumpster”

i prefer to think of it as “cum recepticle,” myself

although, in hs i dumped a bf (the eating vag fluids one) who i thought treated me like a “cum rag.” i think such a phrase was evoked in a kevin smith movie.

clerks, if i had to guess.

Charlie: yes i think it may have been clerks

i have a friend that loves to call girls he hates cunt rags ha

me: mmm, that is a good phrase because it is evocative of the period

Charlie: yeah it is

though its also somewhat timeless

anyway, i gotta get to bed, tomorrow’s our last day skiing so were getting up pretty early to get on the slopes

me: okay, well goodnight

enjoy the snowballing

Charlie: hahaha

thanks

i prefer the term cum swapping its more descriptive of the act

me: mmm

i love cum swapping

Charlie: doesnt change the fact that it is quite possibly the most disgusting thing ever for me to watch

ha my friend puked watching a vid of it

me: cum swapping involves two girls, though, and i think snowballing is just spitting it into the guy’s mouth

Charlie: i was thinking like

well i was assuming it was the same thing as cum swapping once the girl has the guys cum in her mouth

but anyway ok bed!

haha

thanks for that vid

Posted in idiosyncratic nature of porn preference: part 3 | Leave a comment

the idiosyncratic nature of porn preference, part two

Charlie: have you seen abby winters?

me: who is that?

Charlie: oh man

you’ll love that site

well

you won’t love that there isnt much straight on it

but youll like it

http://www.abbywinters.com/portal/

me: ooh, real women

Charlie: btw i was cracking up at your brazzers critique bc obv its all so true but so funny bc its so rare to hear someone talk about brazzers in an intelligent way

me: i’m actually going lesbian-shopping saturday night

Charlie: haha what does that entail

me: i was going to go to this expensive bar with my birthright friends and pretend to be a yuppie, but instead i’m going to a lesbian bar with a lesbian friend and pretending to be a lesbian. i think i can make as authentic of a lesbian as i can a yuppie.

Charlie: yes i could see that

me: it is rare to hear someone talk about brazzers in an intelligent way? isn’t it rare to hear someone talk about brazzers at all?

Charlie: no

my friends and i talk about it all the time

we all share that pw

me: joint porn subscription?

Charlie: i have one friend who very much agrees with your analysis so actually he and i have similar conversations

as the one you and i were having

but the rest of my friends just love to talk about big tits and facials and etc etc

my one friend just pays for it and we all use his pw

me: i wondered, when you said you knew the gay site was simultaneous login sensitive, whom you have shared gay porn with

ha, what a thoughtful friend

Charlie: well no one

but ive wanted to share it with some people

most of them not actually gay males

but that site is in fact quite sensitive

whereas brazzers couldnt care less

prob like 30 people use that pw at this point

the reason i like brazzers is because within the confines of what it does, it does it better than any other porn i can think of

(within those confines)

and i have seen a LOT of straight porn

actually no… i like college fuck fest and inthevip better, but those are somewhat niche and also thats mainly just because the guys are hotter and more “real”

me: and college fuck fest resembles rape rather than rape fantasy

it astounds me that a mostly gay guy would watch this

i do understand the ugly guy in porn thing, how it makes normal guys feel like they can get really hot, plastic chicks–it makes it more relatable to normal guys

Charlie: i dont want to see ugly guys in porn

at all

but yea that probably applies to some guys

(the black dude in inthevip is not doing any of the fucking)

haha

college fuck fest yes… there are some horrifying scenes

i mean ill be very honest and say that while i would never want to have that kind of sex with a girl (now im not talking about their across the line scenes, just their run of the mill scenes) i still get off seeing it

and that probably makes me a bad person

and about brazzers, what im saying is, as long as its going to have plastic women and a very porn star-ish type of guy, and very ultimately boring sex, they have the hottest plastic women, the hottest porn star-ish guys, the most hilarious/ingenious/entertaining “plots,” and the most interesting “boring” sex

me: hmm, i’m not sure if it makes you a bad person

Charlie: oh and the best site organization

which you mentioned

me: but one of my friends has good analysis of collegefuckfest, which is: “fucking passed out chicks would be boring”

ha ha, i suppose brazzers does have the superlatives in all those categories

there is one video i love, a hustler college invasions vid, that i think makes me a bad person

it is the frattiest thing ever, beer is poured and licked off pussy, but something about that vid in particular is so hot

porn preferences are so idiosyncratic

Charlie: right see i think you see what i see in it

im guessing

based on what you said about that video

and yea the kind of cff video i said i dont like is the ones where theyre passed out ha

i like it when the chick is going nuts

and the guy too of course

me: maybe i haven’t seen those cff vids, maybe i am missing out

Charlie: i can send you a few choice ones if youd like

large file sizes though

me: ha ha, i don’t know, i might fall asleep watching them

Charlie: hahaha

im an ADD porn watcher

i dont watch more than 5 seconds without moving the little thing ahead

unless its REALLY hot

me: you know you have an easy life when you fall asleep watching porn, out of boredom not exhaustion

Charlie: hahahah yeah

me: hmm, i do like the fast fowarding tool

Charlie: yes i use that ALL the time

me: have you ever seen a vid where if you rewind it is a diff vid?

Charlie: hmm no thats never happened

me: i have this vid where it happens. maybe i could actually send it to you over aim.

Charlie: that is so weird haha

but yeah sure im curious haha

oh and btw

regarding another thing about your msg

yes boy scout camp is pretty gay

but

well and that was hot

but

i feel like military and frat house videos are nearly always fuckin awful

because the whole point of things like frat houses and military and camps and whatever

is that its all so “innocent” and among people whod never otherwise be in a situation to get with a guy or want to

and like

having gruff tatooed porn stars who you know have had like 400 dicks in their ass just pretty much sucks all hotness out of it

me: ha ha, i see that. but i think there maybe are some innocent people who experiment at camp or in college when they’re wasted and horny, or whatever. i suppose it would just have to be handjobs and bjs, but you don’t like ass stuff anyway. i’m not sure all frat house/camp porn has to have gruff porn stars. military porn is maybe another story.

Charlie: yeah

well like i guess the point is just that its virtually impossible to recreate what truly made a camp/college/whatever hook-up hot in a porn movie

not that i would actually know since i never hooked up with someone in that kind of environment

i mean, yes i kissed 3 or 4 guys in college that werent (or claimed not to be) gay

yes i saw a D or two during boy scout camp

or at sleepovers

but nothing real ever actually happened

im still kind of bitter that i missed out on that

which i should probably get over

Posted in idiosyncratic nature of porn preference: part 2 | Leave a comment

the idiosyncratic nature of porn preference, part one

me: i think i’m going to be complicit in your accusations of blog verbosity, because i really can’t think of a more fitting title than “the idiosyncrasies of porn preferences” or “the idiosyncratic nature of porn preference”

by the way, it appears that monday is official sex blog viewing day

i get way more hits on mondays than any other day

Charlie: interesting

and, yeah, i mean, you cant really make the title more succinct than that without losing something

like “people like surprising shit” doesnt really capture it

me: ha ha. what about “sometimes i even gross myself out.”

Charlie: hahaha

A conversation prompted by my post “on cum”:

FROM ME:

Dear Charlie,

I hope you get off to my most recent post. Happy New Year’s.

XOXO,

Genie

FROM CHARLIE:

haha, about to read it now. i’ll let you know. my first thought after reading the first sentence, though, is that i’m not a huge fan of cum. like, i don’t really like watching people being cummed on, or gargling around cum in their mouth, or watching cum ooze out of a puss or asshole. i’ve never let anyone cum on me. anyway… maybe this will change my mind. i will say that i got hard just from reading that (few word and pretty tame) description of your gay bf’s D.

p.s. this probably isn’t really your type of porn, but if you want a straight site to look at – http://www.brazzers.com, username_____, pw:_____.

Source: www.brazzers.com

umm… why haven’t we been IMing all these years. we have so much to talk about. _____ on AIM.

FROM ME:

you are a fan of precum and girlcum, but not cum proper? fascinating. i never knew i was into cum until the first time i was cum on. a guy asked if he could do it and i thought, “sure, why not, i am washable.” except the next day i woke up, went to breakfast, looked in the mirror and thought, “did i miss and get toothpaste on my neck? ohhh.” this was at sleep-away camp as a counselor, so i spent an entire half hour pretending to be an adult, telling a table full of children to pass the orange juice, while sitting there with cum on my neck. it is true, i am washable. but you have to be aware, i.e., conscious, of the damage if you are to take care of it. now i am fully equipped with cum towels. thanks for the porn link and password. i’ll check it out. i actually got converted to straight porn after having a boyfriend. i’d hate to lie by promising you by aim friendship, because i haven’t used aim in 2 or 3 years. but perhaps we can be gmail friends. i waste time on gmail all the time. my gmail address is _____@gmail.com.

FROM CHARLIE:

haha…i feel really deprived that i don’t have any summer camp hookups. i mean, assuming you don’t count some games of truth or dare at boy scout camp that never went as far as i wanted them to.

anyway… i’m a fan of cum until it lands, if that makes any sense. the act of ejaculating, and everything that goes with it, is hot, but the actual substance is unappealing to me. i mean, once it’s out and in its resting place, it’s useless. i should say that i’ve only been cummed on once. and now that i think back to it, it was pretty hot, but again, once it was sitting on me, i didn’t really want anything to do with it.

about gay porn, even if you’ve converted away from it, i bet you would love the gay porn site i subscribe to. i’d give you the username and pw, but the site is REALLY sensitive to simultaneous log-ins, and i don’t want my account to get canceled. in any case, the chemistry between the guys on this site is just so fucking hot, like nothing that you see in basically any other porn, let alone straight porn. in fact, my (completely speculative and not based on anything but my own meager experiences) belief is honestly that (assuming it’s possible to compare them) straight sex can just never be as hot as homosexual sex. i mean i know that i’m more gay than straight, so i’m completely biased, but seriously, i have yet to see chemistry between any straight couple that even remotely approaches that between a homosexual couple, in porn or in real life.

anyway, i may be in nyc this weekend, so if i am and you’re around, maybe i can show you the site.

FROM ME:

[nb: I agree that gay/lesbian porn has the potential to be way hotter than straight porn because straight gender dynamics are so played out.]

toxic boy is unbelievably hot and the photos are beautifully shot–agreed. i have to say that you were right about brazzers–not my type of porn. i don’t like abnormally-sized body parts and things that look too staged. natural-looking amateurs are more my thing. which isn’t to say that i want someone who is 30 pounds overweight, which i suppose is the norm in our society, just someone who looks like a person–like me–not plastic. i still appreciate your forwarding the link, however, because it was fascinating getting to look at a porn site from a member’s pov (pun intended, maybe a little).

it was interesting what genres you could search under, and how things were cross- referenced, and how long vids were broken into shorter segments (ingenious) each with its individual thumbnail (which streamlines the decision-making process.) i think “jizz on my jugs” is a hilarious and poetic name. somehow it evokes this stupid book my ex got me called “stuff on cats.” my main problem with the searching by genre thing on brazzers is, since i am interested in more real-looking people, i had to search under “small boobs,” which is ridiculous because a) i have no special attachment to small boobs b) the boobs they labeled “small” weren’t even small. also, i couldn’t search under “small boobs” and “small dicks” at the same time, and i don’t even think there is a “small dicks” category because apparently guys want to see sluts pounded by eight inches. i kind of enjoyed the cheesy plots; they were a bit much even for me. i suppose they bring us back to the gilded age of porn where plots existed and five-minute action clips were embedded, rather than independent.

i am not above watching porn for its comedic merits, but it got boring after a while and to tell you the truth, i fell asleep while watching a video the other night. this is partially due to boredom. contrary to the norm, when i am bored, i really don’t feel like getting off, or i am too lazy to complete it. it’s kind of how i feel about going out on weekends, now: i can go out any and every night of the week so why even bother? likewise, i have an indefinite amount of times during the day when i could potentially get off, so it always seems like, why now?

i think i might actually like this one video entitled “the cock next door.” the girl looks young, cute, and punky. in general, i am into girls that look like teens but aren’t really. also the guy in the vid is reasonably cute and normally the guy is a really big drawback in straight, gross porn. i’m having trouble loading stuff, so i’ll give you better feedback once i figure out how to right click on my mouse and actually download it. she is playing with herself while blowing him, which is cute. i could do without the rough blowjob where he is unappealingly shaking his dick in her mouth and forcing it in, in a way that couldn’t feel good for him and must be horribly unpleasant, both physically and mentally, for her.

there is nothing gayer than boy scout camp (if only in spirit), except for, like, the military. i’m sure you’ve seen many a military and frat house video. while i am not into them, i find them hysterical and artistically ingenious (although they are normally done in an extremely cheesy, studio-produced way.)

about the cum, i’ve had male friends who have told me that they think the substance is a sheer inconvenience and if they could stop their balls from working, they would. the whole process is so divine to me. i have more writing on cum that i will post soon. i guess the distinction you make in your preference is one that delineates egocentonic from egodistonic. to put it in non-psych jargon terms, it is like the difference between swallowing your spit all day and spitting in a cup then drinking out of it. or the difference between someone having hair on his head and your finding a piece of his hair on the headrest of a chair. one is gross and one is not because, despite being the same fundamental substances, they have different meanings in a self vs. other way. once cum is out of someone, it is disconnected from the act and becomes a substance on its own. then you want nothing to do with it because its utility is over and cum as the substance, itself, is not appealing. i like how you say, “once it is out and in its resting place.” that is a vaguely romantic way to put it. even cum has its home, its final destination (before it is slicked on towels, crumpled in tissues, washed down the drain).

some other time, i will extensively explain to you my conversion from gay to straight porn, which at this point is more incidental, based on the mediums by which i acquire porn, than purposeful, based on my actual preference. that said, the serious relationship did influence my taste in porn in various ways, from increasing my interest in the straight dynamic, to allowing me to identify with creampies rather than seeing them as an insult to the proper cumshot. more on all of the topics in this last paragraph later. i must go to sleep.

Posted in idiosyncratic nature of porn preference: part 1 | Leave a comment

no more dildos in the bathroom, part two

In high school, I gave my best friend an innocuous sex book (The Idiot’s Guide to Sex, coffee table edition, I think), and her mother prominently displayed it on her bookshelf. That summer, she left her desktop computer to her parents and when she returned home, her cache had been discreetly cleared.

 

Tonight, I returned home and my husband dildo had been meticulously and thoroughly wrapped in a plastic bag and a dirty shirt. I know I did not leave him this way because a) as I left home, I thought, “maybe I should stash him somewhere else,” but shrugged it off, b) never have I ever wrapped my husband in plastic—too kinky, even for me, and c) there was a pile of dirty clothes on the opposite end of my bathroom and obviously I had taken everything off together.

 

I suppose it is considered impolite to request that your mom house-sit and then leave dildos around. But now that my brother has been designated the family delinquent, I have a free pass. Once my brother exposed my sex toy collection, I thought, “Whom am I hiding these from?” My mother used to offer to wash out my period underwear, which I politely declined, so it isn’t that she finds something that exited my vagina revolting. After all, I exited her vagina, once upon a time. I’d say it is more along the lines of indecent.

 

It is my mother’s own fault that her presence was requested. My family and I share a cat. I brought her home from college but she is needy and affectionate and demands their constant attention. For years she traveled breezily from apartment to apartment, on her own volition. My brother is allergic and my mother recently banished her from their apartment—permanently! I live next door and I am indignant at my princess cat’s sudden rejection and mistreatment, so when I leave my apartment for extended periods of time, I request that my uncompassionate mother come and keep her company.

 

I usually leave my husband in the shower or the vicinity of the shower because that is where most of our encounters take place and it is a pain to transport him. I like having him waiting for me, undressed. Sometimes I thoughtlessly leave him on my bathmat because if I’m not going to fuck him and I want to take a bath, bathing with a plastic penis is absolutely obscene—a step beyond a sheer inconvenience. Also, I’ve been having this draining problem, and while expensive silicone dildos aren’t porous and are easily cleanable, I hate to think of my husband as a soap scumbag.

 

But, mostly, I don’t clean. I have seriously been considering writing an honest profile for nerve.com. What’s the euphemistic way to say: “Looking for a man who will cook me steak, be my bitch sexually, and clean my toilet.” Third request is negotiable. Because of my demanding schedule of six hours of classes per week, obviously I don’t have enough time to transport my favorite dildo from my bedroom to my bathroom. Likewise, I wouldn’t have time to do my laundry monthly (I have about two-months worth of underwear) or clean my toilet ever (can’t you hire people to do that?) One of my friends jokes that he imagines me being a character in a detective show, with guns stored in my lampshades, etc.—only they are dildos, not guns. If only I had so much foresight.

 

“It’s the slacker lifestyle, that we do so well.” –Ben Kweller

 

Leaving my dildo, thoughtlessly, on my bathroom floor and requesting my mother’s presence in my apartment begs the question, “HAVE YOU ANY DECENCY?!?”

 

Yes, yes I do. On Friday and Saturday nights, when patrons of the bar across the street flood the street across from my curtainless, second-story apartment, I don’t masturbate in the living room. I tap into my old-skool, downloaded porn collection, which requires no internet connection (only my curtainless living room receives the interweb).

 

“I have a strange neighbor, who doesn’t have curtains on her windows.” –Ben Kweller

 

Besides, if my bathroom was dirty and covered in laundry, my mother would not have been accosted by my husband. It is only because of my recent, unexpected, and uncalled-for cleanliness that she discovered him. He was ashamed. I am not.

 

30+ and disease-free. Beat you, mom!

 

P.S. Because my bother is a total fucking delinquent, he charged porn to his credit card that my parents pay for (as if they wouldn’t find out) and lied and said that his friends stole his credit card and charged it to him (obviously stealing your friend’s credit card is a way bigger offense than making unauthorized charges to your own parents’ credit card). My mother claimed she couldn’t punish him because he said he didn’t do it. And here, all this time, I thought trouble-making and lying, to top it off, was an offense even worse than trouble-making within itself. Clearly I have been misinformed.

 

Quite frankly, I think my parents were too embarrassed, to consider and acknowledge my 14-year-old brother as a masturbator, for them to gain command over the moral thrust of the situation: the fact that it wasn’t an issue of porn or the age at which it is appropriate for people to purchase porn, at all, but rather an issue of making unauthorized charges, which my parents obviously wouldn’t have approved of given the option, without my parents’ permission. Pubescent sexuality embarrasses parents to a point where they loose moral grounding, loose sight of which issues are important and punishable. 

 

Dildo exposure? Quite frankly, I think my little brother is a bad influence on me! I spent my own money on my expensive-dildo collection (as in, my collection of expensive dildos,) and it was money well-spent!

 

As for the matter of my brother being too young for porn: I informed my mother of the abundant amount of free porn on the internet; “Why would he need to charge porn to you? Doesn’t he know how to find free porn on the internet? Is he really that stupid?” to which she replied, “Probably, but he is too young for that kind of stuff, anyway, so don’t get him into it.” As if I would introduce my brother to porn. I’m actually kind of surprised that in his adventures of searching and stealing drugs from my apartment, he managed to miss my hard-copy porn collection. I wouldn’t have missed it or asked for it back had he taken it; I don’t care for magazines, but alcohol is another story.

 

If my brother is old enough to spend money on porn, obviously he is old enough to get it for free. You are never too young to learn how to get things for free that you would attempt to pay for otherwise. The question isn’t whether or not my mother judges my brother as too young for porn or how she feels about the prospect of his eventually becoming a porn-watcher. The fact is that he has already spoken, albeit tacitly, and designated himself a porn-watcher. At least, a porn-purchaser. It is up to my mom to limit his access and partially determine what KIND of porn-watcher he becomes: a user of free vs. pay-per-subscription services, a viewer of misogynistic and degrading vs. consensual and reciprocally enjoyable porn. 

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my irrational fear of herpes

I have this irrational fear of herpes. I know you are thinking a fear of herpes isn’t unreasonable, but the amount of fear is immoderate given the mild nature of the fear-provoking stimulus. It isn’t herpes, itself, that I fear but rather what acquiring herpes would say about me.

My fear was generated in an extraordinary way:  When I consciously recognized that I was slated for a life of sluttiness, I conceded that I would eventually acquire herpes. I mean, such a large percentage of people have herpes and there were so many people I wanted to fuck. I even thought of it in terms of getting it over with, as for it to become one less thing to worry about. The inevitable does not provoke anxiety.

But once I hit the 20+ range, not even accounting for all of the blowjobs (although many of those were given with condoms–yes, condoms), something life-changing happened. I went to get tested at school, where all the nurses knew everything about my medical and personal history, and the nurse who read me my results did a doubletake. She told me that my results looked good, thought about it for a minute, and consulted the print out a second time. Puzzled, she announced, “Hmm, that’s interesting; most people at least have herpes simplex one.” A medical professional in disbelief that I could be herpes negative! I felt like I had somehow been spared, beat the system; I had abused sex all this time and now was my chance to reform, grateful of the advantage luck had granted me. I realized, fuck, it is possible to be a slut and continue to go through life herp-free!

This disease negativity didn’t come from nothing. I was obsessively careful about not hooking up with people if I had any mouth abrasions or cuts or if my immunity was down for any reason. I never brushed my teeth directly before giving head, which may seem like a bizarre consideration, but as a former bulimic (it is bad to brush your teeth directly after vomiting because you rub the stomach acid into your teeth, wearing off the enamel) you think about such things.

30+ and still herp-free! At this point I feel like I should advertise: I have accrued extra value as a slut (after all, my collegiate nickname was “extra.”) I am herp-free and I don’t cheat! This makes me biologically and morally superior and, to top it off, I am self-righteous! This is how I’ve garnered my slut self-esteem. I consider it a matter of pride. It goes a step beyond being disease-free; if I have managed to evade herpes all these years, I must be doing something right. Maybe I even have good judgment. And this is what I am proud about.

I would be devastated if 10+ years of sleeping around ever stripped me of my distinction. No, seriously I would cry myself to sleep for weeks. Because I am that vain.

To demonstrate exactly how fucking crazy I am, how disproportionate my fear:

Genie: i just got tested like two weeks ago, and the results were stellar, i’m so fucking clean the nurse did a doubletake, she actually checked the results twice because she was in disbelief that i could fail to have herpes simplex 1

Alec: You. Are. Lucky.

Genie: i know and i was telling everyone how i want to scan the results and miniaturize them and put them on the back of a business card that says “Genie _______, safe slut, list of random degrees”

[I actually think it is funnier if I list my actual degrees: Genie _______, Safe Slut, B.A. in Psychology 2007, M.A. in Psychology Expected 2010.]

Alec: lol

Alec: YES

Genie: but the problem is i’ve been having problems and i really don’t think i’m clean

Genie: so when i’m in ny i want to get tested again which i know is ridiculous cause i just got tested

Genie: but i’m worried

Alec: well….

Genie: and i don’t want to expose this guy to a potential disease but i also don’t want to have to go through telling him that i could be diseased because how bad does that sound when you are just getting together with someone

Alec: then get tested somewhere else.

Alec: if they say you’re clean, then you’re cool

Genie: yeah, but there is a time issue

Alec: oh my god.

Alec: you’re fucking obsessing.

Genie: with time?

Genie: the thing is if i want to be with him over the summer i sort of have to put out like tomorrow or at least the next day

Alec: what?

Genie: i could just suck his dick and only let him finger me

Genie: i don’t know how i would explain that

Alec: he set a blowjob deadline?

Genie: no, i’ve set the blowjob deadline

Genie: it just makes sense the way things are progressing

Alec: yes. blowjobs are good.

Genie: i haven’t hooked up with him yet, i’ve been explicitly avoiding it, and things have sorta progressed in a bed groping/conversing about being together kinda way in the past week, so now is the time

Alec: yes. blowjobs are good.

I was having shaving issues, in case you are curious. But I get everything checked out. And I notice any tiny aberration, every razor bump and ingrown hair, because I spend so much fucking time with my hands in my pants and so much time obsessing. Vagina OCD.

It isn’t about disease—it is about vaginal integrity, vaginal superiority. I don’t want my vagina to be marred. Because then how would I measure my self-worth? According to my value as a person? Vaginal integrity is so much less disputable.

I would like to be thought of as an exemplary slut, deserving recognition for my accomplishment.

The prospect of 10+ years of sleeping around is beyond depressing; when I am sleeping around, I consider every sexual experience to be yet another opportunity to get infected with herpes, potentially provoking the onset of my demise–the inevitable downfall of a slut. New partners take the form of accidental coconspirators, complicit in the quest to fulfill–what I have the sneaking suspicion is–my ultimate slut destiny: to become a ruined girl, damaged goods, someone who should have know better.

But, never a dumb slut.

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like mother, like daughter, part two

me: i think my mom has been with more guys then i have

Daria: well, she is considerably older than you

me: thanks for my weekly sexual humiliation, gossip girl!

Daria: haha

 

And here I thought I was a slut!

 

With the revelations of Lily and Rufus’ stupid lists, came indications of my mother’s sexual past:

 

My mom’s reaction to the Lily’s complete list was a scoff of indignation followed by the declaration, “That’s not so many; she’s an adult.” Her reaction to the condescend version—the one that Lily actually presented to Rufus—was incredulity; “I absolutely cannot believe that anyone her age would have dated so few people.” I clarified, “It isn’t how many people she’s dated; It’s how many people she’s slept with. Not everyone has slept with over twenty people.” She flashed me a telling look as to indicate, “Speak for yourself!” My 14-year-old brother, catching on, prodded, “Ew, mom?!?” To which she laughed as to indicate that she had, in fact, been with more than twenty men.

 

And here while I was watching the Lily and Rufus showdown all I could think was, “I hope that adults aren’t this immature in real life. If they are I never want to grow up!” It never occurred to me that their numbers were unrealistically low for people their age, only that they were acting extra fucking stupid for people their age. 

 

Pity my naivety!

 

Josh: aahh

its true, the numbers are incredibly different than ours

figure you sleep with 3/4 pp a year, and if you arent into relationships until your thirties, youve got 10 + years of sleeping around

you could easily reach 50 without being a whorebag

in theory

 

Speak for yourself; the numbers are not incredibly different from mine!

 

How precious; he underestimates me. Twenty was ages ago, more than three years ago, dating back to the era pre long-term relationship. I have long since surpassed twenty; currently my list is approximately halfway in between Lily’s uncensored and censored versions, in length. It spans the expanse between “so few” and “not so many”—for a forty-five-year-old.

 

Unlike my mom, however, I haven’t slept with so many more than twenty that I’ve lost my perspective. Obviously there are numerous adults who end up with numbers lower than twenty, even adults who think twenty is an exorbitant number. I consider my group of friends and I am confident that many of them will get married before they come anywhere close to ten.

 

I’m fairly confident I am within my mother’s range, but the ambiguity of her number perplexes me. 20+ can span anywhere from 21 to Tucker Max’s “can’t round to the nearest hundred.” All I know is that she is over 20 and thinks 40 is no big deal. Agreed.

 

me: i’m not sure. i’m pretty sure people think i’m a ho bag and i don’t know if i will make it to 50. but maybe i’m being unrealistic.

the thought of 10+ years of sleeping around is so depressing to me

Josh: agreed

 

10+ years of sleeping around seems so depressing because sleeping around in general is, quite frankly, depressing. Maybe if I got laid more than, like, once to twice a month I would feel differently about the situation. It’s just that one-time things with random guys are not conducive to female pleasure. And, in general, the amount of sex you get from sleeping around is never worth the amount of effort you expend therein and the complications that arise therefrom. Which isn’t to say that I would trade in all the random sex I’ve had; only that I would gladly give it up for something better.

 

Sleeping around is overrated. Do I really want ten more years of bad and embarrassing sex? Thank god I am mostly beyond embarrassment because the more you embarrass yourself, the less embarrassing everything becomes.

 

I suppose if I keep going at the rate I am going, I will easily hit the 50 mark within the next five years. I sleep with way more than 3-4 people per year when I am single, but my life has been punctuated by relationships and I am hoping it will continue to be regardless of when I decide to settle down, which I realistically do not think will be until I am in my thirties. Maybe this is wishful thinking.

 

Also, as I have gotten older, there has been more opportunity for repeats (because I have slept with more guys total and because I have had better judgment as to whom I will sleep with, in a way becoming more selective), so I assume that at a certain point, I won’t have to keep finding new guys to casually hook up with. Maybe this is also wishful thinking.

 

But, seriously, I prefer repeats. It is just so much better—for the girl especially—once you have a rapport, don’t need to be tentative about what you introduce, and know what to expect. Familiarity with specific bodies is important. I think about how long it took for me to figure out how to get myself off. Now that’s depressing. Ten more years of masturbating in front of guys! And that is in the best-case scenario, you know, the scenario that doesn’t involve a guy telling me that I fuck like a cripple.

 

me: well lily is a slut, we knew this much

but who knew about my mom

Daria: yeah, who knew

wait, how old was she when she got married?

me: i feel like i have to compete

Daria: haha

me: 35 or 36, kinda old

Daria: you can top her by then easily

me: i wonder if sluttiness runs in fams regardless of disclosure, because trust me nothing was ever disclosed before tonight

Daria: right

me: so she thought 20 people was unbelievably low and 40 people wasn’t that high for an adult

this leads me to believe that she is at least in the 20+ range

and i am barely over 30

what an embarrassment

Daria: haha

you’re still young

me: and my mom even had herpes!

fuck, i need to get herpes!

Daria: who knows what else your mom has done

me: [all this time i was intimidated by her two graduate degrees

now i feel like i have to get a doctorate and acquire herpes to impress her]

herpes and a doctorate, then i will be as good as my mom

i bet i’ve had more penis in my mouth just because oral is trendier now

Daria: next thing you’ll hear she’s done heroin and feel inadequate

me: ha ha ha

maybe she’s even fucked every color starburst

me: i’m still incredulous, partially because my aunt has been telling me about her sex life in repulsive detail and she’s only fucked, like, 3 guys and she was the outgoing one in the family

me: i think someone has to purchase the domain name “shybutslutty.com” or maybe “studiousbutslutty.com”

perhaps “neuroticjewishsluts.com”

i think that would go over well

 

P.S. Everyone on Lily’s list has a last name besides SLASH. What kind of slut knows the last names of everyone she has sleep with? I suppose the kind that fucks celebrities and socialites. 

 

Bravo, NY Mag, for reprinting the list verbatim to the best of your abilities. And bravo, Gossip Girl, for including Claus and Klaus, who were mentioned in that episode where Serena and Eric tell Lily what a fucking terrible mother she was. 

 

http://nymag.com/daily/intel/2009/03/gossip_girl_goes_back_to_basic

 

 

“Nate came to terms with his pedigree, Serena with the fact that her sluttiness might be genetic, and Blair with the knowledge that while being wild can be fun, deep down she needs to know everything is under control (hers).”

–Daily Intel’s Gossip Girl Brings Us Back Home

 

 

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like mother, like daughter, part one

This week, the sidewalks of Gossip Girl were inhabited, as usual, by adults posing as teenagers. In a fit of adolescent immaturity, Lily and Rufus produce lists of their previous partners. But not to compare war stories (which, of course, would be the mark of maturity). Here is where we learn that Rufus, despite his unfortunate hotness, is a way huger tool than even his son and might as well attach a guitar pick to that shoestring he wears around his neck. Maybe a pop-top from his collection, because his behavior is that adolescent.

 

At her teenage daughter’s advice, social-climbing Lily reduces her list as to not compete with sensitive and sentimental Rufus’. After nervously skimming through the edited version, Rufus sighs and declares his relief that they are in the same ballpark. As if obligatory sex with millionaires, in exchange for fine dining and jewelry, is comparable to the level and quantity of sex he was having with his wife of eighteen years.

 

He acts as if he just received notice that a pregnancy scare was a false alarm. That he is disease-free.  No one would believe that after a life-altering, dramatic plot sequence involving a concealed pregnancy and adoption, the revelation of a number— irrelevant to their current situation and primarily attained way back when straight women still wore flannel—could throw a wrench in their tenacious relationship.

 

Except it does. It undermines how he feels about her because it undermines how he feels about himself and when you are a washed-up rockstar, sex is all about egos not you feelings for the other person. When Rufus discovers Lily’s unabridged list, he throws a temper tantrum and their relationship returns to tenuous territory. Rufus, the rockstar man pussy. He spent all that time on the tour bus jerking off to Lily. And regretted it. Enjoy returning to tissues. Too proud for pussy. Unbe-fucking-lievable. If only I could find a girl who loves chugging cock. Just kidding, but not really!

 

I have to hand it to Gossip Girl for their parody of real-life man pussy reactions to women with exorbitant numbers. Only I don’t think most viewers will get the absurdity of the situation. That being intimidated by a woman’s sexual prowess is humiliating—not being trumped by her number. Most people will glean the overt and overriding message, that men can’t handle sexual women and that female sexuality is something to conceal, something to be ashamed of. It is one thing to tidy up your public appearance (i.e., Bart Bass and the naked photos) and quite another to be dishonest in your personal life (i.e., Rufus and the list). Ironically, Lily was more outraged by Bart’s concealment of her past than by Rufus’ personal disappointment. One would think she would be more hurt by the judgment of someone whose opinion she valued, someone who she thought loved her but who really loved his self-image and how her adoration enhanced it.

 

I use my sexual past as a weeding-out process for men who aren’t man enough for me. Who are into appearance over sex. Who have are threatened by breaking gender boundaries, socially prescribed roles. I’m not saying that sleeping around is a mark of character. Only that if a guy figures the number of penises I’ve had in me is related to how I feel about him as a person, he is a fucking idiot and a waste of my time. Besides, if a guy doesn’t enjoy hearing me talk about dick, what will we have to talk about? My vagina? Oh.

 

I want to be a fuck toy, not an ego-padder. I refuse to be used as an emotional resource for a self-esteem deficient person. Guys commonly worry about numbers in terms of wanting to feel special and wondering how serious a girl is about them if she’s been with many guys casually. I consider this irrelevant to me because I am honest with guys about how I feel about them. If I am only interested in a guy casually, it shouldn’t make a difference how many other guys I’ve been with. As I said, I prefer those who are into sex as an act within itself rather than sex as a means by which to achieve ego enhancement. If I am interested in more than just sex and a guy doesn’t trust my feelings or doesn’t trust that a slut could ever really like someone, then he is an unfit relationship partner, anyway. Relationships are impossible without trust and who would want to be with someone who is so consumed by his relationship with himself that he undervalues you?

 

I have little tolerance for sexual insecurity because insecurity means either that someone is incompetent or unrealistic—both extremely unbecoming traits. Learn to do your job and revel in it. Don’t compare yourself; prove to me that you are worthy—make a mockery of my past. If you think that sexual value is accrued in terms of numbers, then you have bad judgment. I haven’t enjoyed a huge percentage of the men I’ve been with, so the competition isn’t too steep. And sex isn’t really about objectively measurable things anyway; it is about comfort, chemistry, etc. These cannot be listed and compared.

 

If you think so lowly of yourself that some number intimidates you—that you don’t think you can measure up—how am I supposed to judge you? Distinguish yourself from the number. Render yourself more than a check on my sexual to-do list. Act like a person in your own rite, rather than denigrating my choices because you are uncertain where you fit into them. Insecure guys: Been there, done that. Always a waste of my time. I spent so long building up my own sexual security, I have no time for emotional bullshit.

 

The one way in which I consider concern over numbers to be legitimate is in terms of fear of disease. Getting tested can obviously take care of this and sluttiness isn’t necessarily indicative of bad judgment; numbers increase risk, but it is possible to be a safe slut as far as using protection and avoiding partners who seem high-risk. Of course, some of this is luck and it only takes once, but it isn’t like being serious about someone or having a meager sexual past minimizes a particular partner’s risk to you. If you must know, I’ve only had unprotected sex with three guys total, and I think I have far better judgment, as far as the guys I trust, than do some of my friends who only have sex within relationships.

 

 

Posted in like mother like daughter: part 1 | 3 Comments

ten years in hotel masturbation, a retrospective

My friends and I used to discuss whether we had ever masturbated ‘til we bled. There is that annoying sore thing, which is so self-perpetuating. Girls get sore so easily and once you are sore, you can feel your vagina all the time and just want to keep touching. That frustration-gratification thing like touching a bruise or picking a scab. Besides lack of self-control and overwhelming horniness, in retrospect, my soreness and forthcoming blood was partially caused by lack of appropriate equipment.

 

Let’s talk about family vacations, baby!

 

The first time I ever designated a room my “masturbatorium” (yeah, Augusten Burroughs totally stole my term) was in 1998 in Venezuela. Eighth grade Christmas vacation. Four star hotel. In a “third world” country. What a shithole. We complained about our room, as per Jew protocol, and got promoted to an equally shitty but larger suite with two rooms! This meant I could stay up all night and masturbate. The bathroom was in between the rooms. On previous family vacations, my dad stayed up all night and “read the newspaper” on the toilet. How gross. Way classier, I dragged a chair into the bathroom and masturbated in style! Conquered: the bathroom and my extremely passive dad who relinquished the bathroom to me without a fight. They forced me to go on vacation with them. Oh, the injustice!

 

What all of you have been waiting for: In 8th grade I got off to Judy Blume novels. No, seriously. In 1998 in Venezuela, I stayed up all night and got off to the steamy HJ scene in “Forever.” For giggles, let me relay a select portion of this scene to you. Please, keep your pants on. In case you don’t get it, Michael’s penis is named “Ralph,” a rather unattractive name for something that ejects semen.

 

“When I kissed his face it was all sweaty and his eyes were half-closed. He took my hand and led it back to Ralph, showing me how to hold him, moving my hand up and down according to his rhythm. Soon Michael moaned and I felt him come—a pulsating feeling, a throbbing, like the books said—then wetness. Some of it got on my hand but I didn’t let go of Ralph.” –Judy Blume, Forever

 

And I blame Judy Blume for my obsession with cum.

 

Once upon a time one of my friends handed Judy Blume a heartfelt note, saying she changed her life, at a book reading in NYC. I think this is at least as embarrassing as getting off to Judy Blume novels. Either way, the novels are supposed to be coming-of-age.

 

Let’s fast-forward eight years to Christmas vacation 2006 in The Bahamas, also a shithole. I spent much of the week making up excuses to go back to the room alone so I could masturbate in peace. This was fairly easy as I could say I could say I was changing out of my wet bathing suit. I did throw my wet bathing suit on the bathroom floor before getting off onto their white towels and rinsing my period blood out in their shower.

 

One and a half years later, Summer vacation 2008 in Mexico City, I spent the entire vacation making up excuses to return to the room. This proved more difficult in an urban environment. One morning I was like, fuck this, and decided to stay in that day so I could masturbate all morning! I got off to Tomb Raider. Obviously I’ve matured since my days of Judy Blume. After three orgasms, I pulled my hairbrush out of me and blood on the towel! I thought, thank god for the towel, my brother and I are alternating beds. I pondered, am I getting my period? Then the reality set in. I hadn’t masturbated ‘til I bled in, like, five years. I wasn’t even especially sore. But I reviewed the week and thought of all the trouble I had had. First of all, you are so rushed when you are sharing a bathroom. We started out the week all in the same room, until I threw a temper tantrum because my dad snores and I am a light sleeper and what could be grosser than sharing a room with my dad, and we only had one bathroom. I was constantly getting yelled at to relinquish the bathroom and felt like a sixteen-year-old begging for “five more minutes” before bedtime, while masturbating furiously. Most of all, there is the lack of proper or familiar equipment. The bathroom I shared with my family had a detachable showerhead, but the pressure was a little off. The worst is when you can’t adjust pressure and temperature separately. I think in this instance you could, but there was never enough pressure. Less of a big deal than too hard in which case your clit hides under the hood in fear and you can’t feel anything. But I think I was fucking my hairbrush extra hard to compensate. Or something. In any event, I realized that if I am going to go on extremely stressful family vacations, which necessitate compulsive masturbation to get by, I might as well stay in NYC—sans stress—where the compulsive masturbation has the potential to be better.

 

Okay, so here is the ultimate in terms of masturbatory convenience besides hairbrushes: travel-sized shampoo. You travel with it anyway and in haste, when you don’t have a drawer full of toys to assist you, it is the perfect implement. Granted, it is a little hard to keep something so small from flying out of you because there is no handle to hold it by (hairbrushes are clearly incomparable). But if you kind of move it around inside you and hold it in you with your foot, you can still coordinate spraying yourself with a detachable showerhead. And, of course, keeping it inside you is not a big deal if you are just using your hand on your clit and, therefore, have a free hand. Although, once in a shower with a detachable showerhead, it would seem wasteful not to use it. Who am I to squander?

 

My pick is Aveeno lotion. Pantene conditioner used to be the best—and that fact that conditioner makes great lube only maximized its value—but now it comes with some bullshit key chain hole on the previously-fuckable end. Who attaches conditioner to their key chain? This also would not have gotten past a panel of 12-year-old product reviewers. Although, I didn’t purchase travel-sized toiletries in terms of value as masturbatory accessories. Such elaborate deliberations were only necessitated for permanent additions to the collection. Family vacations, thankfully, are rather impermanent.

 

Now that I am old enough to buy products that are deliberately screwable—that are MADE for screwing (oh, what a delightful concept!)—I no longer have to purchase items according to screwability. Oh, how I have grown since the days of crusty highlighters. 

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the viewership, part two

gchat status: genie might give you the link to her blog, if you ask really nicely

 

jordan: oh pretty please! i don’t have enough blogs to read!!

me: ha ha, i’m not sure if i am supposed to take that as sarcasm

or if you are truly begging me

but i like when guys beg

jordan: lol

well, i guess i found the whole thing kind of amusing

me: the thing?

jordan: i mean, the point of broadcasting your life is… for other people to see it

me: yeah, but not my brother

jordan: funny, just who i was going to share it with

me: or god forbid my father learn how to use the computer

elle, maybe? but she’s already read it.

the link is: indefenseofgettingoff.wordpress.com

jordan: LOL

me: the viewership mostly consists of 14-year-old girls

who google stuff about gossip girl and stuff about parents walking in on them masturbating

by the way, i am in the middle of writing this article about anal hpv

because this is my life

jordan: having anal hpv?

me: ha, no

jordan: or entertaining 14 year old girls

me: i wish i were a gay man, but apparently, according to elle, i am “v straight”

hmm, well my friends suggested that to please my viewership i make a post entitled “screwable objects that your mommy won’t find out about”

i could incorporate gossip girl into it, if i wanted more hits: “objects to screw while fantasizing about chuck-blair limo sex”

i’m sure, as someone with a younger sister, you are familiar with such topics

jordan: maybe i’m naive

but i don’t think my younger sister ventured into such territory with such gusto

me: hmm, well dildos are hard to conceal, so occasionally on family vacations, or other such stressful and inconvenient retreats, i pack rather pragmatically

i used to buy hairbrushes according to which ones i thought had the most screwable handles

hairbrushes are perfect, because as a 13-year-old girl, if you sleep with them, your mom just thinks you are excessively vain, which conveniently most 13-year-old girls are anyway

but naive, maybe

you are

that is

To placate my target audience and in honor of those who have been friends with me since the days of Lovephones:

I’m not going to do a top-ten list of screwable objects, because i am bad at ranking things and that could be an endless endeavor like organizing my CDs, but I’ll list the best and most notable:

Hairbrushes will always rank up there with detachable showerheads as multi-purpose, unintentionally sexual objects, although you can discover showerheads accidentally and even pretend to masturbate accidentally with showerheads, but never have I ever found a hairbrush in my vagina accidentally. When I was in high school my life goal was falling asleep with fingers inside myself. This was misguided. Of course the fingering to sleep transition would be marvelous, but you can’t get fingers inside yourself without contorting and I can’t sleep in weird positions. I am jealous of my best friend because my current life goal is becoming a parody of myself and instead she managed to surpass my aspirations and become a parody of me. She recently accidentally fell asleep with a hairbrush in herself. Ingenious! No contortion necessary. So, yes, I suppose you can accidentally find a hairbrush inside yourself, but you can’t accidentally put it there. If only I were a narcoleptic instead of an insomniac.

Starbursts were the first thing I ever put in my vagina other than a finger. And maybe a tampon. A strawberry-flavored Starburst, for the curious. It’s not that I wanted my vag to taste like artificial strawberry!  I guess I happened to be eating Starbursts and thought, “I wonder what this would feel like in my vagina?” A natural question. I was sort of fascinated by its lubricating properties—it lubricates you as you lubricate it. Also, it molds to the shape of your vagina. Incidentally, it also causes the growth of mold. No, I’m kidding, but it is a sticky mess. At the age at which you are still worried about what your mom thinks of your crusty underwear, adding confections is a dangerous prospect. At some point candy companies failed to run their slogans by panels of twelve-year-old girls, because within the next year Skittle’s slogan was “taste the rainbow” and I forget what Starburst’s slogan was but it involved wetness. Or maybe gushing. Or juice. Hilarity ensued. And I suppose twelve-year-old girls everywhere felt entrapped into fucking candy that they wouldn’t otherwise fuck. Oh, I think it was “Starbursts: Get your juices flowing.” Gross.

In other candy news, pop rocks don’t detonate in vagina juice! Disappointment of all disappointments! And here I spent all the time worrying about stinging. They don’t hurt; they’re just inert. I suppose I tried pop rocks after working my way up from medicated Blistex. I see all these fancy tingling products now that are sold exclusively for sex use and I wonder if Blistex has lost their market.

Among the other food products I tested as a teenager were lollipops. Obvious enough. But surprisingly not satisfying. I’m not sure how I feel about inserting roundish objects. I think I feel the way about lollipops that one of my acquaintances feels about anal beads; although, to be fair, she said she felt like her boyfriend was pulling the shit out of her and there is no comparable sensation for pulling round things out of your vagina. Conveniently, lollipops have sticks like tampons have strings. This just in: only a complete idiot could lose a lollipop in her vagina! The problem with lollipops, however, besides the lack of pleasurable sensation, is that they have airholes and when they burst they’re sharp! You could be mindlessly fucking a lollipop for a few minutes, wearing it down, when all the sudden, unexpectedly, ouch!

I find it hilarious that Larry Clark (of “KIDS” fame) uses candy as a trope for sex in his movie “Wassup Rockers,” because private school kids, who are too young for sex (just like private school kids are too young to get married at twenty-five, don’t begin having babies until thirty-five, and don’t stop having babies until forty-five at which time they have to spend tens of thousands on fertility treatment) actually fuck candy.

http://www.brightlightsfilm.com/61/61larryclarkiv.html

When I came of age, the material world divided into two entities: screwable objects and non-screwable objects.

Pretty much anything lying around that seemed like it would fit ended up in my vagina. Most often this included writing implements, lip gloss, etc. The trick is obviously that caps and anything else “edgy” hurt, so you want something that is of maximal length without the cap. Lip gloss with a wand seems to work well for this, and pubescent girls have an endless supply of sparkly and shimmery substances with wand applicators. Items can also be combined, so while fucking one Sharpie might be too mild for your taste, fucking multiple sharpies then sniffing them afterwards (that’s soo not what I meant) is uber hardcore! The thing about writing implements is oftentimes they are so skinny that they can be used in combination, in a chopstick-like formation, to spread open your vagina for full-length mirror examination. If only clear speculums were available to the general public, many a pencil could have been spared emersion in my vagina. I find vagina inspection extremely educational and once in health class in school we even had a guest speaker explain that you can touch your cervix if you reach in far enough and it feels like the tip of your nose—a mucusy version. So it does.

Let me tell you a beautiful little anecdote. Once upon a time when I was twelve, I fucked a highlighter and put it in my drawer for safekeeping, I mean, subsequent washing when my parents weren’t around. The cap was ribbed, making it extra prone to encrustation. You can only transport so many crusty highlighters to the bathroom before your parents get suspicious. A group of friends were over and one needed a writing implement so she reached into my drawer and pulled out the crusty highlighter. It would have been so awkward to say anything. The end.

Candles. The 12-year-old ultimate. When lighting candles and incense was so badass. The only problem is you can’t put the tapered, wick end in you unless you want to ruin prospects for lighting it and the other end can be sort of edgy. Also, I was always scared of breaking candles inside me.

I can’t really think of anything else that found its way into my vagina as an adolescent, but accompanying success is always failure. What failed to enter my vagina was flashlights. Too big. But not for lack of trying. This was of special significance because for years I fooled my mom, staying up way beyond my bedtime, reading, writing in my diary, listening to Lovephones, and cutting myself—all by light of flashlight. The Everready kind, if you must know. Requiring two D batteries. Double D’s. Ha. I also used to consider battery-fucking, but it seemed too dangerous. I am an extremely cautious and conscientious person.

The last genre of objects, and perhaps the most ridiculous, is that which I contemplated fucking but turned down. Even I have standards. The obvious no-no’s are things that have sharps edges, seams, or the ability to break. My little brother had some toys, some mine, that I considered fucking but there is that grossness factor of 4-year-old grubby hands. Forgetting that I didn’t want my brother to have to touch something after it was inside me, my brother drooled on his toys and put them god knows where. Could even the most thorough washing disinfect them? There was this particular toy—originally mine—which I’ve always lusted after but never ventured to conquer. It is this rainbow ring toss, with a yellow shaft, that I think everyone had as a kid. The ultimate deterrence was not the grossness factor, but that it had a manufacturing seam down the middle—a raphe, for those of you who are versed in anatomical vocabulary.

Then there was the Harry Potter broom, the Quidditch stick. One day my mom came home reporting the “scandal” of the vibrating broom they were selling and how some parents were protesting, requesting they take it off the market. I feigned lack of interest, indifference. Weeks later my mom came home with one! I asked about the change of heart and she replied, flatly, “Sale.” To which I replied, “Jew.” Not really, but not kidding. I never fucked it. Too obvious. And, to be fair, it was a little big. I’ll put that on my to-do list along with Everready flashlights. For when I am a loose, aged ho.

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