Besides paying out the ass, and discovering things that I already know like me being a "sex addict" and having "father issues", the mere fact that the therapy sessions that I go to inspire some blog posts surely make it worth it. My therapist is patient with me, but I know she dreads having me for a client because most of the time we end up playing this twisted game of psychological warfare, which usually a trained professional like herself should have the upper hand. The same why you shouldn't really fight a individual who has nothing to lose, or isn't afraid to die, the fact that I simply don't give a fuck probably gives her fits and throws a monkey wrench in her whole program. For example, sometimes she seems to attempt to "test me" and provoke an angry response, but I usually just giggle like a young girl who just received a easy bake oven when that tactic is presented. Or sometimes when I don't think she is listening I'll say something crazy like, "Sometimes when I'm bored I staple my testicles to my leg, drink my own urine, and masturbate aggressively to old episodes of "Little House on the Prairie". Then I'll say, "You aren't listening are you?", then she calmly says, "Uh huh, you drink your own urine, staple your nuts, and love "Little House", Go on.." I feel we are acting like an old married couple.
Anyway, she wanted me to go into things that I have done that I felt, looking back, were stupid. I think she wanted me to go into some long syrupy diatribe about my father and something that I regretted, or a costly mistake that I made with a very special someone once, something like that. Again, I knew what she wanted, but since it was my turn to move my "man" in this ongoing intellectual game of "Chess", I thought I would just go into my garden variety stupid acts from the past. Here are some random situations from my past that are indeed stupid, a fact that I know many of you will agree with.
Man Overboard!!!: One of the first women that I dated after my longest relationship to date was a woman named Sasha. She had money, scratch that, her family had a shitload of money and she was a bona fide snob. Usually, I wouldn't be attracted to a woman that looked down on people and thought she was better than others, but she had breasts and a backside that would even make a gay man question his lifestyle, so it was quite easy to look past her faults. Even though it was fun for a minute, her politics, her treatment of others, and her black conservative friends or "Pet Negros" as I called them were driving me nuttier that squirrel shit. I guessed it reached a boiling point when I accompanied her to a party she was having on this big ass boat her father owned. After flashing fake smiles to all her booshy ass friends, drinking a bit too much, and hearing some of the most self hating political rants a black man could take, I did what anyone would have in that situation. I went to the other side of the boat and silently jumped off, I figured I would swim back to shore instead of being around those stupid ass people. After I jumped in, the water was refreshing, but suddenly something occurred to me, I was drunk and I wasn't the strongest swimmer. Then I noticed that the shore was further than I thought, and since I am as paranoid as Ronald Reagan was around crazed Jodie Foster fans, everything that touched my body was a "Great White Shark" in my opinion.(Nothing says "macho" like sporadic womenly screams..)
I thought about screaming back to the boat for help, but my pride and dignity wouldn't allow me to be saved by a bunch of black folks on the wrong side of the political dial.(Actually I did scream like a woman, but no one heard me.) So I flashed back to summer camp 83' when my swimming instructor taught me a "survival stroke", where basically you curve your body and float, sporadically turing your head for air. So for the next couple of hours I did that stroke, along with standard swimming, and praying to god, saying "I know I'm a son of a bitch, just let me live. Shit, Pleeease!!" (I'm sure god appreciated my colorful language) As I got to shore I realized how stupid that was, and the fact that I was wearing a rented tuxedo just highlighted that point. The funniest thing was I was laying on the beach, out of breath, and this stoner dude said, "Dude, Are you shipwrecked like Gilligans Island??" Pointing to my tux I said, "Yeah jackass, I'm the Millionaire, your high ass must be "Gilligan". But I must tell you, I have first dibs on "Mary Anne", because trying to touch "both sides" while having sex with "Ginger" would be like a ringer in a cowbell. Now Get the fuck out of here!!"
One year without sex: During college, because I tried to penetrate everything with a vagina and a pulse, and getting test results back became scarier than a Ron Artest rap album, I thought I would be celibate for a minute. I figured that it would be good for me, I could focus on school and have some peace of mind from not chasing tail like a hunting dog. But something happened as soon as I decided to put my condoms on hiatus, like a guy who just gets a girlfriend, women were offering their bodies to me like suicide bombers and shit. It was ridiculous, and even when I told them the truth about me going celibate it seemed that it was their personal mission to rid me of that burden in my life. The first 6 months were pretty cool, the next 4 were OK, but the last 2 were murder. I found myself relaxing the standards of what sex actually was, telling myself "If she just strokes it, it isn't sex." or "A mouth hug isn't really "sex" when you think about it.." I felt like Bill Clinton, trying to redefine the word "sex" to get him out of the pickle he had found himself in.(Or the cigar Monica found in her, OK, that was unnecessary) It got to the point that after the one year anniversary of my sex sabbatical, I was trying to schedule sexual rendezvous the same way a doctors schedules his clients.
The day came and all the women that threw themselves at me earlier were harder to get a hold of than Jimmy Hoffa's body. The ones that I did get a hold of didn't find a guy "trying to get a piece of ass" attractive, not like the guy who was "saving himself" was. I eventually got some, and the woman in question was pissed that I came quicker than express mail, but the whole ordeal was stupid. I mean, the concept of celibacy is cool, just don't be like me and use it for evil and not good.
Fried Turkey: This is probably the stupidest of them all, but here goes. I was dating a chick in college that had her own place, so since she fed me and occasional put up with the 2 minute pelvic trust sessions, I stayed over there as much as possible and was an absolute leech. It was pretty cool now that I think about it, she would always be gone so me and my boys would get high and raid her fridge like the miserable bastards that we were. But it wasn't all fun and games, like I would soon find out on a cold winter night in December more than a decade ago. I was there by myself and I noticed that she had one of those "tazers", a device to keep a would be attacker away by shocking the shit out of them. Well, I was on the phone and I was playing with the tazer with a medal object, and you know the rest. I suddenly felt a jolt through my body as all my muscles tensed up, sending me to the floor drooling like a new born baby and shaking uncontrollably. I must have been on the floor for minutes, trying to scream but only hearing muted sounds like someone had put tape over my mouth. As soon as I regained my faculties I went to the bathroom to throw some water over my face.
That is when my girlfriend at the time walks in, sees the chairs and table in disarray from my mini seizure, and the fact that I had literally pissed myself, and said, "You really need to lay off that marijuana.".