And I shall be the one to say it. Men: you will get your own story, too. Just not quite yet, you sex machines, you.
After the accidental discovery of Viagra (go watch Love and Other Drugs, it is a pretty apt synopsis of the whole thing, entangled in a love story, of course) the drug lords (Pfizer, etc.) of the world decided it was time to sit down and create a female viagra – because who has as many sexual issues as women do?! Could you imagine? All of those times when she just ‘wasn’t in the mood’? All the women who believe they are ‘asexual’ because their sex drive seems to be nonexistent?
Last month (holy shit my last post was a month ago… dammit summer! Quit distracting me!) I talked about porn for men and women and how we all think different and whatnot… This month: I shall paint you the picture of WHAT it is that is searched for in the pornolands of yesteryears. Or something like that.
All of the following information has been extracted from the work of genius ‘A Billion Wicked Thoughts’, so, if you have an issue with any of the data, go a knockin’ on their door instead of badgering me.
A while back (in December, when I was overwhelmed by end of term art projects and essay writing) I wrote an article about the effects of watching pornography on the neurological wiring of a person.
It is brilliant (because I wrote it…), but I think I missed a whack load of really important information that kind of needs to be taken in tandem with me telling you that watching mass amounts of gang bangs on the internet will sway your brain into believing it will need these images in order to get off (the evident down fall here is that, typically (and note that I do say ‘typically’ in understanding that there are very many different types of sex lives out there- you people are so finicky), your average sexual interaction is with just one other person, and unless you have a handful of horny, imaginary friends, it will be difficult to re-enact a gang bang while you are having interactions with just this one other (real) person).
Most of you whom I converse with eventually come to the thrilling discovery that I partake in online dating. Although it is becoming more and more popular among the single-tons (and married men) of today, I still continue to get a reaction of shock and horror that I would plant myself amongst the men pretending to be women, the rapists, the repulsively desperates and the troves of internet gamers that balance a Plenty Of Fish conversation as they finish this round of Zelda.
(I assume Zelda is the name of a video game. I am more than okay to be wrong about this, so I won’t even bother to google.)
I’ve been doing it long enough that this reaction is more than expected. So, what are my reasons for submitting myself to appear as a desperate female in search of her Prince Charming?
1. The last thing I want is a Prince Charming. I’ll ride my own white horse, dammit.
2. Shockingly, the above statement cancels out dating a lot of folks who generally want the conventional boy/girl, saviour/savee relationship.
3. However, this decisiveness on my part is convenient in that I know what I’m not looking for.
4. The next portion of this logic is that once one has come to this conclusion, the smart thing to do would be to carry a large sign around the busiest intersection reading something like: LOOKING FOR PRINCE CHARMING’S ALTER EGO (theoretically). But, perhaps you may not be approached by the person you want to be approached by. They may also think you clinically unwell.
5. The internet provides you with a directory of single people. Allowing for one to flip through pages of personalities and faces until you fall upon one that intrigues you.
I have no idea what that was about. I haven’t posted a blog in some time so I decided to just pull up a blank post and see where it took me. But Caitlin, I hear you ask, what if it takes you on a journey through something like thinking about…. I was trying to think of something completely non-sexual, to then be able to tell you, dear reader, that everything in my mind comes back to sex. Really truly, sex is where it’s at.
I was looking around my room for an answer for ‘…’ above: bed (obvious), lamp (lights on or off?), eye mask (blindfold), dream journal (yes, I keep a dream journal, because I’m awesome sauce and am trying to learn to lucid dream BAM) (but really, my dreams? do we even want to go there. That is some messed up shit).