Sex: Apparently It's Not Just for Procreation Anymore.
Who would've thought...

There's no way to say this without having to do 1,000 words of explanation afterwards, and even then I imagine that it's still not gonna sound right.

Nonetheless, I face this fate bravely, and I say: I'm tired of sex, really just worn out by it.

Now for the attempt at a brief explanation: I don't mean the physical act of love. Yes, if there was that special someone here, and she was ready to go buck nasty as soon as I walked in the door from work...I would happily oblige. So that's not what I mean. And yes, I enjoy looking at a beautiful woman (clothed or if need be naked) as much as the next hetero-male. And sure I got my own tastes and touches in the arena of "a body meets a body," but there's a line out there and it's way past being crossed.

Never once in the statement above did I say I was immune to sex. Let's make that clear.

It's just become a small matter of less is more.

For instance, one night, I was instant messaging with a friend of mine, and she revealed she was looking at the Victoria's Secret Catalog on-line. So I pulled up the same page, and started to peruse the latest in overpriced underwear. She led me through a few things asking about my tastes in different things. Finally we ended up on the page 'o panties, and she asked me what I liked. So I'm combing through all these tight bare @$es in thongs and g-strings and whatnot when I found what I thought sexiest: the boyshorts.

Boyshorts are arguably the least revealing of all of them, but there's something to the way they fit and what they do show. Anyhow...

Part of my decision was influenced, I believe, by the bevy of buttcracks I've had to look at constantly in recent months. I know I'm not the first to say it, but it was a major factor in my feeling of less is more. Even on a really hot girl, it isn't terribly attractive. Usually, between what her underwear is doing, the waist of her pants, and her general positioning, it usually looks strange, trashy, just plain bad, or all of the above. Besides which, but I've never heard of that being considered attractive on a fella, and we've been more prone to that sort of thing for year now. I believe everyone knows what I'm refering to when I say 'plumber's @$$.' Right?

So if it looks that bad on a guy, who says it does anything to improve a girl's attractiveness?

Sadly, I already know that there are some who are against me on this one.

Again, I like a nice @$$, that's just not the way I wanna see it.

But that goes for everything in clothing. I'm not even going down the path of people wearing stuff that they ain't got no business wearing in the first place. That goes without saying. I spent a lot of Labor Day weekend down at the beach, and I can tell you, that's a plague that runs rampant. (The only thing it's really good for is the self-reassurance when you say to yourself "Whoa, thank God I'm not that guy.") Seriously though, there's a way I see the people around me, and there's the way I see pornstars and rockstars dressing. I don't see nor do I want to see everyone in that way.

The fact that it's spread to younger and younger girls is really disturbing. I think it's odd how we have this drive to lower teen sexual activity, pregnancy, and disease transmission, while at the same time we've gone farther and farther to sexualize children. As a society we abhor child pornography and pedophilia, and yet we've got TV shows that follow how long before some child star is legal.

I would've thought this would be something that feminists would've jumped all over....apparently I'm wrong. If you're well beyond the age of consent, then I can see standing under the banner of 'sexually liberated woman.' But these aren't women, they're girls. I wouldn't want to see boys dressing or behaving that way either. Like that Calvin Klein ad stuff a few years ago...it was just...well, icky.

It's kinda like how I hate hearing kids on say American Idol perform songs like Marvin Gaye's Sexual Healing. Not only is it creepy, but you just can't take it seriously. No matter how technically well the kid sings the song, you can tell there's nothing real-world behind it.

I would say it has something to do with maturity, but there are too many 40+ year old boys running around out there for me to say that. There's also so many people with emotional walls that as the song said "so high you can't get over it/so low you can't get under it." Not too mention so many women who have become so neurotic over whether they're receiving the right kind of pleasure or the right amount of orgasms that they've completely lost the point. But all of that is part of a whole other politic that I don't want to get into. Though a lot of that last one is all from the constant flood of sex advice and columnists, etc.

Which gets me to my next topic....

Each week, I read The Onion. Then I read The Onion A.V. Club. Then after the articles, interviews and reviews, I read Dan Savage's Savage Love. I enjoy the column no matter how disturbing, and I usually enjoy Dan's advice and/or retorts. And yet...

Well, I'm not sure whether I should be thankful that I don't have some weird-@$$ fantasy or fetish that I must indulge in, or whether most of these folks have just become convinced that they have to have one no matter what because everyone else seems to.

That isn't to say there isn't some somewhat kinky or weird sh!t I'm into, it's just that I can separate the fantasy from the reality. There's some things that would be great if I could actually see them, touch them or do them. Then there's other things where the fantasy is more attractive than the reality could ever be.

I tend to think of it this way: You may really, really like The Monkees and they may make you feel great, but that doesn't mean that anyone else is gonna like them nearly as much as you do.

Let's just say that Dan's a helluva lot more understanding than I am.

To me a fetish is a fetish. It's your personal hangup. I think there's more going on problem wise if you're so hung up you can't perform without acting out your fantasy. I think it's also a by-product of our crazed intent to individually be as self-obsessed as humanly possible. There are some things in the bedroom where it's middle ground. There are others where you have to ask yourself: am I having sex with my partner or with my fetish?

I kind of think of a lot of it like tatoos as well: Sure that li'l butterfly tatoo's all cute now in your late 20's, but what's it gonna look like saggy, stretched out, and with a few varicose veins running through it? With fetish stuff, it's a question of when does cute/kinky become scary/gross?

Anyhow, that wasn't even my initial point. My point should've been simply thus: I'm tired of hearing about your fetishes.

I honestly couldn't care less what kind of weird sh!t you're into, and why do people feel compelled to tell me? It doesn't disturb me (unless it verges into scat/necrophilia territory), I just don't care. The only thing I ever get curious about is how in the hell someone found out that they were into [insert fetish here] in the first d@mn place.

My number one objection has got to be S & M. You wanna talk about a cult of wannabe's.

Don't get me wrong...once again. I'm not saying there aren't some real heavy duty tie-your-balls-to-the-wall hardcore fiends out there. Of course there are. And they scare me.

But most of the people you run into or catch on TV who go on and on about this stuff tend to be some trendy yuppie @$holes.

Simply put, if you can't tell me thing one about Comte Donatien-Alphonse-François de Sade then I don't want to hear about...(and if you're one of those hard folks I mentioned above you'd probably be able to do a powerpoint demonstration on what a sissy you think the Marquis really was.)

Of course my feelings about this have just brewing over for years now. I guess it started when I had to stop back and ask myself why it was that every magazine for men had essentially become Playboy Lite. Furthermore, I don't get why guys buy Maxim and FHM and Arena and Stuff, etc. when they're all essentially the same magazine. Unless I'm buying porn, a magazine, to me, has to consist of more than pages of half-naked 'celebrities' (which is shorter than writing 'singers', 'models', and 'actresses') and a few gadgets.

On a similar note, my distaste continued when I too noted like Kevin Smith that it wasn't just little girls who were into Britney Spears, that it was 30 year old guys. And it wasn't about the music, it was about wanting to f*ck her. Which again says something about the 40+ year old boy mentality: "I can't deal with women my age, but I could relate to this bubbleheaded starlet. That's for sure."

Pathetic.

And for any women who might be cackling and agreeing with me there, lemme put it to you this way: If you hold strongly to the bitchy, selfish, and immaturity-masquerading-as-mature tenets of Sex and The City, there's a good chance you're gonna die alone without a man or the sex.

Pathetic.

On that cheery note: Get your hands out of yours or each other's pants, put some clothes on, get over your wannabe weird would-be obsessions, and do something with your lives that means something.

Cheers.