This, I suspect, will be a hard sell.
People have been enjoying having sex with each other since the dawn of time but I’m here to tell you that people are WRONG. Every major religion has agreed that baking the lust cake and placing it in your oven will send you straight to hell, and it’s about time we listened.
So, please study these six reasons why we should give up sex and never discuss it again. It is important to note that I am writing this from the point of view of a heterosexual woman, people of other configurations and persuasions may have different ideas about how sex is really just awful and why do we even bother, so please don’t feel I am close-minded on the subject. Anyway, to begin!
Penises- Full of Acid?
While it’s been established that the average vagina is lined with approximately six hundred teeth, the danger of Mans’ Stately Prong have not been so vigorously explored. So I pose this question- is it full of acid? Like the alien in Alien? Does it really seem that likely that the human male never evolved a fail safe way to shoot corrosive liquid from his shaft? No. It doesn’t.
With this kind of science behind the penis-acid theory, we can only conclude that women are taking their life into their own hands every time they become engaged with the male’s changeable love-craft, and with a slight change of mood men won’t be releasing nourishing sperm, but deadly acid.
You May Be Asked To Talk Dirty When Really You Just Want To Concentrate
A bit of spontaneous sexy talk can be fun and all that but as soon as it’s requested it’s impossible to think of ANY words, let alone ones that are meant to ENFLAME DESIRE. Which words enflame desire? Can you just repeat “cheese board” until the whole thing is over? In the ensuing panic, you might find yourself doing your best Janet Street Porter impression, or declaring “My labia are waving like a patriots’ flag!” Give up sex entirely and you need never shout “Cor, g’is a fumble on yer love nuts” with darting eyes and flustered gurn again.
The Sex Whinge
Now, you may think this is pretty “radical” in these prescriptive times, but I have slept with more than one man *cocks fedora* so I know that far from everyone does this. But this thing happens enough to make you realise that engaging in the genital merge is barely worth it, and that thing is the Sex Whinge.
The Sex Whinge is the keening whine that rings out of a certain kind of a chap (or chappess) who feels, for some reason, that they are entitled to unlimited access to your love tunnels and are annoyed that right at that moment you are keeping your love tunnels free from transit. “I don’t want to explore the tepid lands of your sex swamp at the moment. I may want to later” isn’t enough for this guy.
Oh no. They want to know WHY. They want you to realise that if only you would sleep with them at this exact second, it will be the best sex of your entire life. They bicker like an old lady waving a fish and before you know it you are negotiating your way out of a love making situation like you are at the highest levels of the Sex UN. It is the utter boner wilting worst (and also a bit Blurred Lines).
Of course people in relationships are allowed to discuss why they don’t keep it on ‘til the break of dawn anymore. But nagging? NO. NOT ALLOWED. DO NOT COMPLAIN. IT IS THE ANTI-SEX. To make things easier for you I have compiled this list what’s on and what’s not on.
- Sober and calm discussions exploring why your relationship has become a sexless hell
- Sensual seduction
- Persistent grooving to entice your love
- “But whhhhhhhhhyyyy?”
- Plaintive prodding
- Peeved badgering
It’s easy, see? And guys and gals, is your recognise any of this behaviour in your own sexual repertoire, then put those sex keys down! Your license is REVOKED!
Keeping Up Appearances
Maintenance of your Hanging Gardens of Babe-a-lon (!!!) usually requires the employment of a gamekeeper, landscape gardener and full musical troupe to keep them entertained. They spend their time roaming about your womanly forests, keeping them in check and slaying the savage wolves that reside there. The costs involved can run into the tens of thousands a week, and you see many beggared woman wandering the streets, being slowly absorbed by the pubic hair they can no longer afford to manage efficiently.
Eschewing even a whiff of Gentleman’s Trouser Secret with a firm hand means you can remain solvent as your withered heath unnervingly advances up past your belly button and down towards your knees, giving you the time to weave it into trousers and a house to hide in when you finally lose control and are lost in a ball of fuzzy hair.
You Have To Wash Your Sheets
When you are sensible and stop heeding the unruly calls of your ladies luncheon meat, you gain all kinds of benefits, not least of which is allowing your bed sheets to grow ripe, and enjoying the full extent of your own enchanting musk. Like luxuriating in a fine fermented egg, this is one of the great human pleasures, cruelly denied to you when your charm and grace inevitably seduce someone who plans on spending some time in between them. Have you ever tried washing bed sheets? It’s practically impossible, and 56% of people will eventually die in the attempt.
What’s more, you have to wash them AGAIN after the carnal act has been dutifully completed, because it’s not polite to snuggle down in pools of human drippings. I mean, REALLY. You can avoid all this, you know, by simply clamping your knees together with twine and wearing iron knickers.
I hope this has persuaded you to lock your love making equipment in an unbreakable safe. However, if you do insist on continuing, remember to always wrap yourself entirely in cling film and conclude the act in total silence, as this is the only way to avoid the smells and moans that entice snakes, which are a danger to us all. Thank you.
Posted by Holly