Sunday, March 08, 2009
Sexual Positions inspired by the McCain Campaign(Vibe Throwback)
When I was single for all those years, I never burdened myself with all the pressures that come with pleasing my respective sexual partners. Recollections of my coital dalliances during that time period are nothing but blurry drug induced episodes to me, both truly entertaining and cringe-worthy affairs where I found myself only moments later aggressively brushing my tongue with my toothbrush and then proceeding to openly contemplate the possible dangers of scrubbing ones genitalia with an S.O.S pad. Just imagine if "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" was about a germaphobic writer who liked to fuck. I mean, I've always been somewhat of a selfish lover. When I first lost my virginity not only did I tell the young lady to "climb aboard" as if my pelvic area was some sort of pleasure craft, but I also sternly grabbed her face with the intensity of a losing football coach and unfortunately uttered the words "You're about to make history baby!!!" But because my sexual encounters either involved women who I couldn't give two impromptu bowel movements about, or women who I'd respectfully categorize as "sexual entrepreneurs" - the furthest thing from my mind was reciprocity, so creating new and exciting sexual positions for the women I clumsily thrusted on top of wasn't even on my radar. So lets just say that my world was turned upside down when I finally got a girlfriend after a 6 year relationship hiatus.
Creating intricate schematics in my mind on how to get a woman out of my house as soon as I ejaculated turned into post coital conversations about the amazingly boring day that she had. Haggling over prices like I was dealing with a Pawn shop owner turned into me confiding in my new girlfriend about my shameful history of sex that required receipts.(With her openly wondering if making me get one AIDS test was enough) I used to avoid the post coital wet spots with the same elusiveness that Sarah Palin displays after she's been asked specific questions about foreign policy - I suddenly found myself at times laying in those same wet spots, even though I eagerly tried to suppress the rising vomit in the process. But more importantly, I finally had a sexual partner worth inventing some rather creative sexual positions for.
Like "The Bill Belichick", the act of making love while wearing a really frumpy hoody and uttering eyebrow-raising pillow-talk in a dull monotone voice - "Punch me in the nuts while reading me my Miranda rights!". "The Smurf Grip" is when the woman, after listening to hours of begging and pleading, very calmly reaches over and gives the man a complimentary tug to quiet that whining malcontent. "The Outbreak Monkey" is when a woman is kind enough to fulfill a man's sexual urge, despite the fact that he has a 103 fever and happens to be leaking out of every orifice. "The Jarobi", named after the forgotten member of "A Tribe Called Quest", was what I called it when my old lady wanted to be left alone while she handled her "business" - I was still part of the team, but I had no specific role to speak of. Lastly, "The Anne Heche" is what I characterized my habit of asking my girlfriend to talk about the lesbian affair that she had in college during sex - it annoyed the shit out of her but it got me more excited than the opening night of a Kevin Smith Movie. Unfortunately we've broken up and moved on to greener pastures(the split was as amicable as could get by the way), and I'm faced with the prospect of either reverting to my old lecherous self when I was without a girlfriend or transforming into a half way decent and considerate single person. I was thinking, maybe the key to me being a more reciprocal lover when I'm single hinges on whether or not I continue my habit of creating sexual positions. Here are a few that I've created inspired by John McCain's presidential campaign.
"The Hanoi Hilton": I'm not sure if these girls were brought into this country legally, but there is a lapdance joint across town where damn near every single woman there is Vietnamese. I mean, they're all cute enough, and I don't discriminate - my lap is like the Statue of Liberty, "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses" and shit. But I keep going there because I'm intrigued. The same way that Darryl Hannah's character in "Splash" learned English by watching television commercials - by the slang and absurd references to modern day sub-par Hip Hop, I get the feeling that these silly chicks unfortunately learned how to speak English by watching B.E.T. Its comedy gold let me tell you. Nothing is funnier than having a Vietnamese girl ask you in broken English if your prescription glasses are "Stunna Shades". That being said, I can see myself reverting to my old ways of receiving receipts after sex, especially on those cold winter nights - lets just hope that my residence doesn't become the "Hanoi Hilton"
"The bridge to nowhere": Ladies, I'm a prick, and I'm pretty sure that this post isn't going to particularly endear me to the feminist community. That being said, I can't tell you how many times I've been sitting on my most comfortable couch while being serviced by some low self-esteem having young lady and tried to rest something on their backs to see if I could get away with it. Plates, ashtrays while I smoke, etc. More times than not the young lady in question rightfully got up and punched me dead in the face, letting me know that that particular maneuver was pointless. Hence "The Bridge to Nowhere"
"The 'Drill Baby Drill'": Being that my nickname for my genitalia has always been "the black myth ruiner", I've always given my sexual partners a rather bewildered look as they passionately urge me to go deeper - its like asking a homeless man to pay your fucking mortgage. That being said, women have been begging me to employ this technique years before John McCain even thought about running for president.
"The Levi Johnston": I can sympathize with Bristol Palin's boyfriend, I too have unsuccessfully tried to convey a public image that completely contradicts what my myspace page says. After a date, when I asked a woman if she wanted to go back to my house or hers, she snidely replied "Aren't you going to fuck me in the backseat of your muscle car?" When I was trying to convince this hippy peacenik who abhorred violence that I followed the teaching of Gandhi, she looked at me and sarcastically asked "When do you ever find time to administer your paralyzing throatchops when you aren't practicing civil disobedience?" Before I could even lie to this one woman and wax poetic about how much I absolutely adore kids, she reminded me of the blog where I said: "If I ever write a children's book, its going to be titled "Will just sit your fucking ass down somewhere!"
"The Townhall": You know that you've gotten the asshole seal of approval when a catholic priest once called you a "piece of shit" in front of other children and your own mother affectionately refers to you as "an insufferable prick". They're both right, and a lot of my ex lovers would co-sign their sentiments. I mean, I can't tell you how many times a woman has stopped me in the middle of sex just so we could have an in depth discussion about what I had just done. "Why would you think that "Welcome to the Terrordome" is appropriate mood music?" "Why would you keep checking your condom and then proceed to say "I've seen some of your ex-boyfriends, life's too short!" "When I told you that you were only the fourth man I've been with, why did you say "Bullshit! You need Chewbacca's ammo belt to hold all your notches on that motherfucker!!""