FDA Demands Man Stop Giving Away Sperm

(Headline, Huffington Post)

Alright, now it costs $5. Hah!

You know that saying, “You couldn’t give it away”? Well, it was true. I literally couldn’t give it away, at least not the old-fashioned way ha ha. But seriously, this is not a sexual issue. I have important abilities (I prefer to think of them as mutant powers) and I intend to share them with as many fecund human females as possible. Otherwise, my abilities will go to the grave with me.  😦

So I’ve updated my methods.

First, I arrange a date with a promising young woman using, say Match.com. I said that I want to share my vital essence with fecund females, but these females must be worthy, of course. As it happens, every woman listed on Match.com, according to her own self-description, is imminently worthy.

Next, on the date, I demonstate some of my powers. For example, pick a number between one and five. I can usually guess it. Three? Two? See what I mean? Another example: Who will be elected president in November? I’m asking you. No, you’re wrong. Wait and see. You’ll be surprised.

Then, I display some of my physical powers. I can bend spoons with my mind. I bring a pocketful of bent spoons with me to prove it. We go outside. I show how many cracks in the sidewalk I can jump over at once. Now if I’m really interested in the woman, I show her how I can run across a really busy street and back without getting hit by a car. I have to be really interested because even with my powers, mistakes are sometimes made.

Finally, the moment of truth. I Invite the woman back to my place, so I can give her a plastic-wrapped bit of my essence. Because the selection process is so exacting, I find that my freezer is filling up! I’m running out of little specimen cups! But anyway, I hand it over and send the future mom on her way. Heaven knows how many little “super” children are running around out there by now.

First Video Ever Of The Female Brain During Orgasm

(Headline in the Huffington Post, 11/16/11.)

Note: There have been numerous false alarms, but for the first time in this particular study, the female subject was not faking it. This is not to say that faking it is particularly common on the distaff side during the human act of love, but our subject was being paid by the orgasm, which provided an unwanted perturbation to the experiment. She also claimed that she was owed something extra, because the lab swapped out the hunk she had originally been paired with, and replaced him with the decrepit head of the department, who wanted a go.

This is the fourth video in the orgasm series, after First Video Ever of the Female Hand, the Female Foot, and the Female Nose During Orgasm, none of which proved a big seller on the black market of sex.

At the critical moment, the subject was thinking about eating a cream puff.

The speech center was also involved, as the subject burst out with “C’mon, Baby, Momma needs a new pair of shoes!”

Is an orgasm harmful to the female brain? The subject’s rage centers seemed rather inflamed during the initial motions of the experiment. The subject reported that this was due to her extreme distaste for “the old bugger” atop her. The inflammation moderated when he told her that it was worth an extra thousand if she would “shake that thing.”

The subject’s temperature began to rise dramatically during the exercise, but this could have been caused by the failure of our electric fan partway though the monitored coitus.

Differences between the male and female brains during orgasm? Wow. You really want to go there? This is Nature’s dirtiest act we’re talking about here. So the guy, it’s like, it’s like a train going into a tunnel, or a rocket taking off. Or maybe like one of those oil-drill pumping things. For a gal, it’s more like a tunnel with a train coming in, or a big, moist thundercloud with a rocket shooting through. Let’s leave it at that.

Sex For Pleasure Not Uniquely Human

(Huffington Post headline, 11/13/11)

Festus is a five-year-old redbone coonhound. He’s a big, noisy dog who is always willing to jump up and lick your face and be petted. My wife and I love him and take him with us everywhere, always making sure that he gets enough exercise and attention.

All was fine until I read the Huffington news article mentioned above. It turns out that this dog, “man’s best friend,” has been thinking along the same lines as I have, sex-wise, all along.

I always thought that his lolling tongue and panting were cute. Now I see them for what they are. Signs of pure lust.

A dog isn’t like an old married man. A dog is always ready to get it on. That’s why they’re called dogs.

When Festus would lie there on the rug sleeping, and start twitching and yipping, tail thumping, I always figured he was dreaming about being out hunting with me in the woods. Ha.

The equipment is right there, for all the world to see. It’s like living with a nudist. A well-hung nudist, pardon my French.

Anyway, now I’m noticing how often my wife takes Festus out to the dog park, or so she says, for some “exercise.” He comes back all lathered up and flops down in a heap. And starts licking himself. Down there. Now I ask you.

Dog sleeps at foot of bed, you figure he’s faithful, until you realize that when you’re at work, he’s probably in the bed. Dog barks at the mailman and you figure he’s protecting the house, until you begin to wonder what the mailman was up to before Festus was big enough to scare him off.

There’s a woman at work who reminds me of a toy poodle, but that’s another story.

I began planning to catch Festus and my wife in the act. Planning how I would report this dog to the police, or to the pound, or to whoever deals with cases like this, and have him hauled off like the two-timing cur that he is. Fortunately for me and my marriage, before I could act I read this new article, “Women Are Sick of Men Behaving Like Animals.” I can see now that my wife is just as put off by Festus and his forward behavior as she is by me when I paw her in bed.

The Pre-pregnancy Amendment

Mississippi and South Dakota are considering amendments to their state constitutions that would define the beginning of life, protected by all state laws, rules, and regulations, to occur at the point of pre-pregnancy. Improper termination of the life of an ovum or spermatazoon would be defined as murder. The state constitutions are thus to be made more clearly pro-life, not pro-choice (pro-murder).

For example, suppose that you are a young nerd with absolutely no hope of “getting next to” a woman. Then spilling your seed on barren ground, such as your bed sheets or the bottom of your shower stall, is ok. But woe betide you if you try that with a potentially fertile wife in the house! Do not tell the court that she “wasn’t in the mood,” or that you snuck some ‘zoons into her with your finger after she fell asleep. The sin of Onan kills off countless, literally countless, potential babies, even African-American ones.

The good news is that if you’re sent to jail for murder, you won’t be raped there, because of course that wouldn’t be legal either, like it is now. There would also be prison-prisons for those prisoners who do go ahead and rape you and need to be imprisioned, but are imprisioned already.

What about ovulation? In Mississippi at least, when ovulation occurs, a tiny little tasteful bell will tinkle on the front of your dress. Get that ovum fertilized asap and there won’t be any trouble.

All contraception, whether it prevents the joining of ‘zoon and ovum, or kills off the ovum after the fact, is murder. Condums are defined as concealed weapons. Erections more than one length of the member away from your wife is attempted murder.

Of course, anything kinky, like adultry, homosexuality, bestiality, incest, three-ways, foursomes and moresomes, bondage, lap dances, phone sex, or sex at a picnic, are unconstitutional, and murder.

Worst Sex Crimes

I was asked today by a seventeen-year-old gay delivery boy whether or not I considered myself to be a “bandit of love.” This caused me to slip into a self-reflective mood wherein I asked myself if I was in fact guilty of sexual crimes, of whatever stripe.

This is not about acts of violence, such as rape, which pertain to power rather than sex, or about pathologies resulting in psychic wounding or even homicide. No, this is about getting the word “sex” into a blog post title without writing something depressing or downright creepy in the process.

What’s the difference between a sex crime and a damned shame? A damned shame is when you’re convicted by a jury of love.

Sex crimes can be divided into the following categories: crimes against the self and the self’s innocent-bystander private parts; crimes against another person or persons that affect his, her, or their sexual hormone levels and/or their erogenous bits; crimes against nature; and crimes against God and all that is holy.

Crimes against the self: Well, obviously you want to prevent chafing, or doing anything that will require a visit to the emergency room. Avoid vacuum cleaners, action figures, cacti and other spiny fruits and vegetables, and impure thoughts.

Crimes against others: The fundamental, immutable rule about sex is that, in the end, you won’t get it right. You will f**k it up. This is because, inexplicably, your brain gets involved. Original sin? Unzipping your jeans for the first time.

Crimes against nature: Nature is all about wanting you to go out and get it done. The only crime against nature is staying home, reading a book, and going to bed early.

Crimes against God and all that is holy: This is about doing it in a church, synagogue, temple, mosque, sacred grove, hearse, coffin, huge crematory urn, monkery, monastery, or Jesus camp.

Forbidden Sex

It’s been a while (not awhile) since I wrote a post with the word “sex” in the title. Since 99% of my visitors are drawn to this site by that very word in those very titles, indulge me while I lure this majority back one more time, to their eventual disgust at the utter lack of the base, degrading, and exploitational titillation that they seek, unless I include it by accident – by thinking out loud, for example, or by getting this blog mixed up with my alternate, income-providing site, “Sexy Sexual Advertisements for Sex.”

I thought about simply using the title “Sex,” or “Sex!” or perhaps “Sex??” for this post, but rejected these as ambiguous. “Sex” in these titles could be a verb, as in “How to sex a chicken?” (That is, how to determine the sex of a baby chick and separate the roosters from the hens when they hatch (that is, are born), for those of you unconversant with the poultry industry.)

I thought about using “Teen Sex” as the title, teen sex being the most popular topic on the Internet, but as a post-teen who is able to think back on teen sex and recall my personal experiences with it, I’m dismissing the subject and the acts covered by the subject, as overrated and too associated with button and strap and elastic struggles and wrestling, even if teen sex persists as a powerful blog magnet.

I thought about “Animal Sex.” Many of my “readers” are vectored here by Google, Bing, and even that snooty Jeeves, looking for what, bestial congress? Really? Animal sex? There is no lingerie. No buildup with dinner and a movie. No action in the back seat of your car (would be hard on the upholstery). No “meeting the parents.”

I thought about using “Group Sex” as the title, but ho hum. I’m not a joiner. Which group are we talking about, anyway? AA? Too talky during the act. “Hello. My name is John and I’m an alcoholic…” PETA? What, animal sex again? AARP? Please, put your teeth back in, grandma; or no, wait a minute…

I thought about “Porn Sex,” but these days we’ve got food porn, torture porn, Palin porn, etc., etc. Porn is the new white bread. As a search term, “porn” scarcely ranks above “corn” anymore (not any more). Does that last sentence make any sense? No.

So I chose “Forbidden Sex.” What does that mean? If you’re a member of a religious order, it’s all forbidden. If you’re some wild-eyed nihilist with a minor in de Sade, nothing is forbidden. Gay sex was once forbidden; now, the next President will probably be gay (or LBT), and married. Sex between a black man and a white woman wasn’t exactly forbidden; it could just get you lynched. Sex between Asian and Caucasian? Irish and Italian? Catholic and Jew? Democrat and Republican? Limbaugh and Garofalo? Not forbidden; all bidden. And what about sex outside the marriage? I read somewhere that formerly, up until the 60s, say, the husband was expected to have something going on the side; but now, no! Swiper no swiping! Is this, then, the last bastion of forbidden sex – the wandering husband? My goodness, there must be something worse than that. Infidelity does not rise to the “forbidden” level. Accidental strangulation at the critical moment? Nah, Carradine was probably murdered or too high to know what he was doing. The act since his death has become common comedic currency. See “Cedar Rapids.”

Forbidden sex. It’s out there somewhere. If you encounter it, or better yet, if you do it, tweet us. Post the details on our wall. Download a clip to YouTube. Name it and define it in Wikipedia. Get a groupon deal and let us in on it. Thank you.

Why teen sex films and teen sex movies are important

What are the best teen sex movies? What are the best teen sex scenes? Who are the hottest teen stars in teen sex scenes, in teen sex films? Why is this important?

I read somewhere that “teen sex movies” is a most-googled search item. I’m publishing this post to see whether anyone comes to read it as a result of a search-engine referral.

I wouldn’t bother, but three of my posts are titled Why sex at the movies is bad for teens, Why teen sex at the movies is so over, and Best Teen Sex Movies.  Search engines send readers to these posts, in spite of the fact that there must be a billion intertube pages about teen sex movies. Why my blog? It’s too late to track referrals to these posts from the beginning, so I’m starting fresh with this one.

I’ll return in a while and see which, if any, search terms brought readers to this page. Or, if absolutely nothing happens, perhaps I’ll just delete this post and slink back into the shadows to figure out some other way to do a little blogger whoring.

Later: Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I check the search-engine terms used to reach my blog and find such as the following:

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What amazes me is the fact that there are a quazillion sex sites desperate for page hits but no, all these searchers, using all these search terms, are sent to my miniscule blog. Strange. (I will say that when I googled “wooled movies sex,” my blog didn’t seem to be among the top listings, although somebody found it in there somewhere… Whoops! Adding that sentence now puts me in the top five for the search.  Silked movies sex. Cottoned movies sex. Just in case.)

I mentioned channel 553 in a post, and I do come up second out of 7,880,000 hits for the search “sex channel 553,” which someone tried.

Perhaps I’ll delete all of my posts containing the word “sex”. Or just do a global change from “sex” to “Jesus.” No, wait. Then I’d get a whole new crowd of desperate surfers.

Otherwise, what we have here is just a blog page of disappointed readers.

“is it comfortable to have sex in a escalade?”

Someone reached this blog via the search query above.

I’ve never been in an Escalade, but you can comfortably have sex in a ’67 bug if you know what you’re doing. Folding down the back seats in a Prius provides you with six feet of horizontal room. Comparisonwise, I would expect the Cadillac to offer accommodations worthy of a motel room out on Route 7, just past the truck stop.

But questions arise. Can you truly be comfortable, even behind the wheel, knowing the carbon footprint of an Escalade? Just driving to a remote spot in this monster contributes to ongoing polar-bear-assassinating climate change. And once parked, do you become a target for rival gang bangers?

“Escalade” means to scale a fortified wall or rampart. Does this suggest that your sex is occurring with someone unwilling or uncertain? Is ramming a part involved, ha ha? Whereas sex in an Oldsmobile would feature geezers?

I spotted an Escalade in the parking lot at work and interviewed the fellow who got out of it. When the drift of my questions became apparent to him, he invited me inside for a tour and some man-on-man action. I declined because he was parked in a handicapped slot with no placard in view. I wasn’t worried about interruptions; I just felt that he probably lacked essential sensitivity, which is a must for me, even, for example, at two in the morning in a leather-bar bathroom.

But I digress. What does it mean to be  “comfortable”? I asked the Dalai Lama this when he visited Columbus. He told me that he was comfortable right then and asked me if I was comfortable too. I had had two drinks and I told him that I was very comfortable. Then I told him that joke about “Are you comfortable?” “I make a living” and he laughed. You see, what he was saying was, you could be in your Escalade, sweating torrents because the a/c isn’t on, crazy on a meth high, laughing and crying like a psychotic mental case whilst having sex with your ex because the two of you have been arguing like savages and taking turns slapping each other in the mouth, and the door flies open and some state trooper says, “Well, are you two having fun in here blocking the middle lane of the freeway during rush hour?” and you realize, at least later, how complicated these questions can be.

Why teen sex at the movies is so over

All these recent posts about teen sex at the movies – they’re written mostly by fogies in small towns and by pastors in their studies.

For example (I’m quoting copyrighted text here):

Q: Should me and my girlfriend do it at the Rialto?

A: While sex during a screening at the Rialto may be pleasurable, you should consider a few things first:

  1. Are you prepared to get caught and possibly charged with a fine for indecent exposure by Officer Josephson?
  2. As you’d be in a public place surrounded by other people, can you get away with not disturbing them, as they are paying customers as well, and that includes me if it’s a family film?
  3. Is this something both you and your partner really feel comfortable with and aren’t just being pressured into because it sounds cool?

Sex of all types should be a comfortable experience. Unless, you know, you’re into something a little kinky ha ha.

Ok, I added that last sentence, but still. Check out the multiplex parking lot. It’s full of SUVs, minivans, and Escalades, which I know are  SUVs but in certain neighborhoods, you know, an Escalade is an Escalade your ride you feel me? What would you be doing with sex in the movies when you could be out in one of those on a furry carpet with a little wine, a little weed, your player tuned to… well, you get the idea.

Except for oral sex, if you’re counting that as sex. And by oral sex I’m referring to some girl going down on you, not that other thing. Because for one thing, movie seats have changed. They’re bigger than they used to be. Some of them rock. They’ve got the big cup-holder. They don’t squeak when you’re squirmin.

Also, the audatoriums are a lot smaller than they used to be. You can walk in these days and there might be two people in there, no more, everybody else spread out at the other 31 screens, two people in there, some mom and her kid or two old retired guys. This is not the big dark cavernous moviehouse of old, with Egyptian scrollwork to admire whilst your head is lolling back.

For example, in the following poll:

If you saw two people having sex in the movie theater what would you do?

– Report them to a staff person?
– Watch?
– Move seats?
– Ignore them?

The most popular response was to record them on a cell phone and post the results. I’d include a link to one of these – the one made during a screening of My Bloody Valentine, in which the couple are both wearing their 3D goggles – but then my mom might see it. She forbids me to go to horror movies.

With respect to a similar poll about how to do it, we find that “Have her wear a skirt” and “Have her sit in your lap” are popular responses, but so is “Why would you want to?”

“Wear a skirt”? What geezer came up with that? “Sit on my lap”? Sit on my face! Ok, that doesn’t make any sense, but when you’re arguing with your teen, they’re liable to say anything. Might as well be prepared.

None of this applies to a couple going recursive with a couple onscreen who are doing it at the movies.

Why sex at the movies is bad for teens

I’m not talking about drive-ins. Drive-ins were invented for high-school sex. That’s why drive-in movies were so bad; nobody cared. Too bad there aren’t any drive-ins left. At least now, no more finger-bowl jokes.

In this post, I’m talking about youth, or youths, indoors at the multiplex and why sex is a bad idea for them there.

No Pee-Wee Herman jokes, please. What a man does inside the confines of his own raincoat is not germane to this discussion. However, I will try to address the case of teens in raincoats on a stormy day at the multiplex and why sex between them is not recommended, with or without their hoods up; with or without furled brollies.

And of course, no popcorn-tub-in-the-lap jokes. Popcorn-tub-in-the-lap sex is tried and tested and globally approved. It’s off the table.

Kermode and Mayo’s Code of Conduct doesn’t explicitly forbid sex during a screening. How to explain this? Well, examine their photos carefully. Does that answer the question?

First, a couple of exceptions to the no-movie-sex rule:

1. Pride and Prejudice (2005) – If this film is playing on a Wednesday night in the high-school cafeteria, experience has shown that mousy girls with glasses and pleated wool skirts may be susceptible to clumsy groping. Go for it, while keeping an eye peeled for the teacher chaperones.

2. Godzilla (1998) – For some unknown reason, giant lizard movies can cloud a young girl’s mind. If you’re a freshman, you’d be a fool to ignore this fact.

3. The Ten Commandments (1956) – Go for it when the Red Sea parts, because of all the noise and excitement and general Biblical exultation, unless all that water makes your girlfriend jump up and head for the Ladies room.

4. Those VD warning movies from the 40s and 50s. There were never any girls in the room when they showed them, but if there had been one there, it would have been perverse and ironic if she were a flossie little roundheels.

Sex and cine-surfing don’t mix. Your underwear comes up missing and it could be anywhere.

Don’t do it during a Roadrunner cartoon. Wrong message.

Don’t do it in a theater that’s sold out.

If you and your partner cold-bloodedly plan to do it in advance, you can order your tickets through Fandango.

If you’re at the movies and you simply can’t restrain yourself, make sure that your partner is not a “screamer.”