I have been called "a man with boobs." I take that as a compliment because it was a guy saying it, and we all know how guys think that guyness is all that, and boobs are really terrific, so the absolute best thing in the whole universe would be to be a guy with boobs.
Okay, maybe that's second best. Perhaps the bestest of the best things in the entire male universe is to be a double-jointed-from-the-waist guy with boobs.
Yet, in spite of my guyness, and maybe because of my boobulous qualities, I have to confess that I am somewhat unsure what is meant by this quote:
You know he just plain needed it. Raise your hand if you don't know what I mean by that. You liars.
The fabulous, hipper than a lizard, Don penned that in his blog recently (see cite) while talking about "The Curious Calamitous Case of the Congressman and the Call Girl."
I have my theories, however, and I'm gonna share 'em with you before Don calls me a liar, 'k?
Gotta warn you, I really am a woman and not only that, but I was an impressionable child in the late sixties as well as a teen in the heady seventies. That means I interpret Don's statement, "You know he just plain needed it" through my own girlie filters that include a vague and fuzzy rendition of "all men are pigs" absorbed from my younger years when exposed to the bra-burning women's liberation movement through sit-coms and media.
What I think Don meant by that is that there are, and always will be, men who just plain need down and dirty sex for the sake of sex. Maybe it's all of you, except for Don and maybe one other guy. We're talking risky sex. Sex that means -- to you pigs -- power. Sex you probably are not getting at home because what you get at home is safe, accepted sex and probably even predictable sex set to some rules the little woman has crafted and you comply with because, hey, it's sex, man. There is some rutting animal need inside of each microscopic drop of your testosterone that is grunting right about now, dreaming about dirty hot weasel sex in the grime of your grandpa's hay loft and, man, you don't even have a grandpa with a hay loft, but you dream it anyway.
That's what Don meant.
How'd I do?
Spitzer, the guy what started all of this by "needing" to let his little Elliot out to play, has now been discovered to have needed power in another way. Turns out he did in deed track the travel info on his political opponent, Joseph Bruno, after denying it and disciplining his aides.
I'm not sure how this relates to dirty hot weasels in the hayloft. I am sure how it relates to power.
Cantaloupes are under fire tonight which has nothing to do with anything, and particularly not boobulousness.
Well, nothing like hot melons, I'm sure.
You did fab. You look marv. But for one thing: I don't mean it to be about power. Not power OVER someone, anyway. Yes, maybe that kind of power where you push her over and pull her hair and do her fiercely from behind but she really digs it and is not really under your power at all, it just looks that way to the callow child looking through the open door (whoops). But I mean, I dunno, something raw and wild and unscripted and unapproved and totally off the reservation and by the way, there is no chance I'm one of the two guys who doesn't need it, I'm just able to suggest as much without smirking. But I also has my sense of responsibility and right and wrong and honesty and what will my boys think when they're all growed up, and it's a long progression of little concerns like that what keeps me in line and, according to my theory, all other men too -- except the handful who are truly and romantically in love forever (I concede the possibility that they exist) and that other handful who, like the Spitzmeister, reach a point where they just don't care -- or, like WJC, never did. Poor stupid bastards, the lot of em.
Making the poor stupid bastards--the Spitzmeister, WJC, and the like--sociopaths. After all, sociopaths aren't ruled by that long progression of little concerns that allegedly keep the rest of us in line
So it's not okay to ask your wife to engage in hot torrid and different sex acts in order to keep things fresh but it IS okay to go after hookers for same because, hey, that's just the kind of guy you are?
Any guy that thinks along those lines deserves the boring sex his wife metes out.
I wonder. Just thinking about it: If you ask the missus for torrid, hot, different dirty sex in grampa's hayloft and she's all into that and you have a good romp and all ... doesn't that, by definition, become safe and accepted sex?
I do not entirely buy into the notion that all or even most men genuinely want to walk on the wild side, but for those who do seem to "need" to do that, I'm thinking it's the sex outside the marriage that makes it hot, makes it fulfill their need. Sex inside the marriage -- even bizarre kink-o-ramas involving 40 weight, SaranWrap© and shaved, declawed rodents -- is, well, condoned sex.
As far as anyone saying it's "okay", well, I didn't get that message. I just heard a loud "guys think about it all the time."
So it's not okay to ask your wife to engage in hot torrid and different sex acts in order to keep things fresh
Hell yeah it is, but as gekko avers, this wasn't about that.
but it IS okay to go after hookers for same because, hey
A lot of guys evidently think so, back in the dark corners of their mind where no one visits.
Gekko touches on it, for some anyway. The who meaning more than the what. Obvi, in the end we can only speak for ourselves; and speaking for myself, I admit my perspective may be skewed by factors that I would rather keep out of scope of this convo. Still, though every situation is unique, they're not really so different, so in a general sense I think it remains that men (our age) are (mostly) crazy.
Gekko touches on it, for some anyway. The who meaning more than the what.
Perhaps the reason your poor stupid bastards and my sociopaths go off the rez is simply because they go for the what rather than the who.
in a general sense I think it remains that men (our age) are (mostly) crazy.
That's a given, since most wimmens will tell you we, none of us, have grown up. I'm not at all sure what that has to do with this discussion, though.
Hell yeah it is, but as gekko avers, this wasn't about that.
I didn't SAY it was about that, I asked a question. Gekko answered it.
As far as anyone saying it's "okay", well, I didn't get that message.
Thanks, Gek.
I wonder. Just thinking about it: If you ask the missus for torrid, hot, different dirty sex in grampa's hayloft and she's all into that and you have a good romp and all ... doesn't that, by definition, become safe and accepted sex?
Sure it does. But it isn't the same sex that 90% of the poor bastards out there are having (or not as the case is with some of them, which is probably WHY they're seeking it from Craig's List and hookers and escorts), and that makes for a very satisfying and fulfilling sexual life.
Unless both parties in a marriage have an agreement for an open relationship, there ain't no reason or excuse for looking for it on the side.
The concept that some PEOPLE NEED outside sex because they can't control their primal urges is an excuse by the pigs of both genders to allow themselves to engage in that behavior, not unlike the old "My husband/wife doesn't understand me/can't satisfy me/doesn't like oral/sex with rodents blah fuckity blah ad infinitum.
But hey, what do I know? I've never needed to look elsewhere for sex, accusations of manipulating unhappy women notwithstanding...
;o)>
But it isn't the same sex that 90% of the poor bastards out there are having (or not as the case is with some of them, which is probably WHY they're seeking it from Craig's List and hookers and escorts), and that makes for a very satisfying and fulfilling sexual life.
According to the American Motel Association, the average rental time for a training flick is seven (7) minutes. Now I'm thinking the Spitzmeister took a pill, because he got 39 minutes with "Kim." I don't know how long WJC had alone at any time in the Oval, but I'm thinking 7 minutes, for him, was a "longie."
I'm also thinking that ain't enough for a satisfying and fulfilling sexual life.
I'm also thinking that ain't enough for a satisfying and fulfilling sexual life.
No. For a satisfying and fulfilling sexual life, there must also be Chocolate!
How come so many peeps are talking about something so utterly boring?
I think every man fantasizes about marrying a woman who will "fuck on contact" (only with him of course!) but face the facts, women are people too and sometimes they ain't in the mood, contact or no contact, and if you've constructed a life that contains a woman who's worried about stuff or pissed about stuff, fuggedaboudid, not agonna happen.
These guys who let themselves get led around by little Petey are a bunch of jerkoffs going to hookers to keep the little hairs off their palms and their old ladies oughta play lockbox until they pass out from nutache or the little hairs need cutting, and if the little hairs need cutting they oughta cut the dumbfuck loose.
I'm sure y'all rilly, rilly wanted to know what I think, right? Take care of the ol' lady and she'll take care of you, EOFS.
Take care of the ol' lady and she'll take care of you, EOFS.
I dunno what EOFS means, but the rest of what Boots said is on the money, honey...
I thought all women fucked on contact, though. Must be my mojo workin'...
EOFS: End of Fucking Subject. Boots's showin' off his misc.writingisms.
Well, as far as WFOC is concerned, I thing EGBDF.
;o)>
As far as Worldwide Forensic Odontology Contacts, Every Good Boy Deserves Fruit?
Women Fucking On Contact, Every Good Boy Deserves Favor...
Nice try though...
Any male who tells you he doesn't think about the nasty, weasel hayloft sex is flat-out lying to you. Or may be involved in some sort of faggotry which doesn't involve the hayloft at all, although the weasel is still in play. So to speak.
And more, any of these metrosexuals who are gallantly telling you it doesn't involve power are either blowing smoke up yer ass or are kidding themselves. Hot, nasty, dragout, knockdown, freakshow sex always involves power.
If yer doing it right, the power is exchanged back and forth between the participants upwards of a dozen times in a single sweaty, semen-flecked, slippery skin under your fingernails session.
Bio-fact: When engaging in sex, especially "dangerous-psycho" sex, your sense of smell drops to about 1/4 or less, your pain responses fall measurably, your language capacity goes to near-zero, and your CNS is wound up for combat. Anything that distracts from the chase and the conquest, including common sense, your life, and anyone else in it, drop to grey "also-rans" on your priority scale.
Not for nothing is war and combat considered by many to be some weirdly sublimated sex drive.
There is no man who will not submit to a temptation when its contours match some private keyway he holds hidden deep, usually even from himself. When it happens, he WILL do stupid stuff, like near-public sex back in the bushes (shhh, they'll hear!) or monkey sex, or ravening wolves in the moonlight sex. Or hammering $2000/hr hookers when you HAVE to know you're getting caught, for example.
Like all methods of dropping to the basal animal level, it'll cost ya if you aren't damned careful. Just a hangover and a couple of detox/rehab trips if you're lucky, or loss of your life (or at least the parts that matter) if you're not.
Seems like Governors would know that.
- AD -
AD, I expect you think you're not full of shit, but buddy if you make it through the stage of life you're describing you'll look back and say "holy shit" in awe that you survived it. When I think back to those days, I just think "god damn i'm glad i finally fucking got old".
Power, real power, has nothing to do with any of those things - in fact those things, hot hayloft freakshow sex etc, are ways of getting rid of power when you have more of it than you know how to handle. I expect governors do know that, at least on an instinctive level, because they take advantage of it to get themselves out of the hotseat often enough.
For now you're gonna want to glamorize all that shit, war and combat and freakshow sex and insane risk, telling yourself you're not the only man who hides weaknesses from himself, every man will give in to the right temptation. That's how you survive it. When you have, if you do, maybe you'll come to think differently about it.
Or maybe not, some guys never get past it. Good luck.
'k, so boots has low libido, AD took too many Viagras, and I'm thinking about all the dirt and grunge in people's buttcracks which is not only entirely inappropriate while I'm sitting here on a teleconference, but ... disturbing. Why am I thinking about butt cracks?
Have you been having problems with your plumbing and concern that you may have to pay a professional buttcrack exposer?
Call me repressed, but I'm not comfortable discussing my plumbing on a public forum.
(need I add a winky thingie?)
Good Gawd, I sure picked a hellova time to stop by for a visit. I can't help noticing the dialogue is solely between the "guy with boobs" and the guys. Hmmm.
Well I'm a hockey fan. And I cuss. And yeah, I got boobs but I also got a mean punch. Anyone wanna mess wid me? AD? Come on, put 'em up, put 'em up.
You got boobs? When did you get those?
Yeah, Peej! Come on, put 'em up, put 'em up!
Okay, now I'm pissed. I typed a reply and it rejected it because I used all caps in some of my words.
I'm going back to my hovel.
Well, Don managed to figure it out.
By the way, I like that cool sparkly thingie that happens when I mouse-over "peeps are talkin.'"
Thanks! Stole it from some other blog.
Hey! Twenty nine comments! I feel as popular and important as UV!
Oh, on an aside: I'm doing my part to help mankind. The Captcha is being used to help digitize old books for public access. Check out
http://recaptcha.net for more info
Hey, I heard my name! ~preen~
(macleod jaw?? wtf?)