…when you end up half-naked in the downstairs hallway because you’re too engrossed to press pause and find a room.
…when you forget about any misgivings you might have had after only a couple seconds of hot breath, friction, and fingernails.
…when you can still taste the frantic bubbling up from just underneath even when the surface looks calm.
…clawing, shoving, thrusting, digging, clenching, and strange, foreign body angles.
…too intense to stop and remove all your clothes.
…when the journey is so enthralling that you don’t care about the destination.
…primeval, instinctual, animalistic.
…when you don’t care what you look like or sound like, only what you feel like.
…two ravenous, gluttonous, brutish beasts holding each other down and plundering each other’s bodies, pillaging what they need out of the other and then allowing themselves to be pillaged in turn.
(I also found this cool post about the Top 5 Frantic Sex Scenes)
Like All the Time
If you are not a Christian, you may not be aware that one of their guru’s principle teachings is to avoid cold moral judgments of others.
Christians aren’t usually known for their open-minded, live and let live attitudes.
Still, the message is clear even in casual readings of their canon – and with further study, becomes even clearer. We should not pass moral judgment on others because we have no idea about their motives and their history that created their motives. “The thing here condemned is that disposition to look unfavorably on the character and actions of others, which leads invariably to the pronouncing of rash, unjust, and unlovely judgments upon them.” (Jamieson-Fausset-Brown Bible Commentary)
“Why do you show contempt for and judge people? -Don’t do that shit.” –Romans 14:10-13
“Whenever you criticize other people, you condemn yourself, because when it comes down to it, you’re both assholes.” –Romans 2:1
“Don’t judge others so they don’t judge you.” –Matthew 7:1
“Jesus Fucking Christ, did I not make it clear enough to stop being dicks about other people’s moral choices??!” –1 Corinthians 4:5
Word for word. Ish.
A Christian’s Shit
Unfortunately, judging is a natural byproduct of most religions. Or should I say waste product.
When a Christian sits down to eat her religious cheeseburger, part of it provides needed nourishment to her spirit. Also, because she is human, many times part of it is converted into excrement. Fecal waste matter is a natural part of the nourishment process.
In this case, a Christian’s droppings are her moral judgment tendencies. You can’t blame her. When you feel like you are privy to an absolute moral code, it’s natural to want to look down on others. Since her guru acknowledges this tendency but tells her she shouldn’t indulge in it, we can consider it a natural waste product of Christianity. Her organic Christian manure.
So, 1: she knows she shouldn’t look down on people, but 2: it’s hard to avoid since it sort of comes with the territory of doing practically anything wonderful. Vegetarians look down on meat eaters. Athletes look down on fat people. People who believe they are appointed by an all-powerful God to love other people look down on people who are just evolving aimlessly from worms. But she knows she shouldn’t.
Fortunately, there is a solution.
Everyone knows that judgment is the first thing to go when you add alcohol to the punch.
Alcohol affects judgment by interfering with neurotransmitters in the synapses of the brain. This happens particularly in the frontal lobe – the dick part of the brain responsible for, among other things, casting moral judgments on others and yourself.
Of course, too much drinking will result in impaired coordination, blurred vision, and even permanent brain damage, which can be fun but isn’t the point here. So let’s stick to mild drinking.
Mild drinking can turn a grinch grouch wet blanket party poop hypocrite homophobe religio-phile into a welcoming, embracing, understanding, magical, humane, inclusive, teddy bear, noble, fair, love-addict who everyone enjoys being around. The warm, lovely foundation is already carefully in place. All it takes is adding a drop of whiskey.
You could say that Tipsy Christians make the best Christians.
So do the world a favor and take a shot with a Christian..today! The best Christian is a drunk Christian.
Here are some badges you can put on your site if you support the idea (copy and paste the HTML code below of the one you like):
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<a href=”http://sexylittleideas.com/why-christians-should-get-drunk” title=”Whiskey Christian”><img src=”http://sexylittleideas.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/1justADDwhiskey.png” alt=”Whiskey Christian” title=”Whiskey Christian” style=”border:none;” /></a>
<a href=”http://sexylittleideas.com/why-christians-should-get-drunk” title=”Drunk Christians”><img src=”http://sexylittleideas.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/1DONTsayWHEN.png” alt=”Drunk Christians” title=”Drunk Christians” style=”border:none;” /></a>
Or I should probably say: Your House or Theirs. Because it’s never really about him vs. her. It’s about you vs. them.
Obviously, if you’re in a weathered (seasoned!) relationship, you’ll probably take turns going over to each other’s places, eventually move in together, and then become dead to each other before long.
But where is the best place to kick things off? You met a beautiful person, it’s on, and now the question is whose place do you go back to.
There are pros and cons for both. Here are a few things to consider.
How are you going to get there? -And once you’re there, how are you going to get back? Sometimes choosing the backdrop comes down to a matter of which is closest and who is willing to drive.
I’ll just come right out and say it: Some places are better for sex than others. You know exactly what I mean, and if you enjoy sex, man or woman, you should have a place that is conducive to it. If you are between situations right now or just a lazy ass, you may have to gamble on their place.
Unless you don’t mind mousy sex, keep in mind the proximity and noise threshold tolerance of both your and their neighbors or roommates. The place that can take the most noise wins this round.
It’s a simple fact of life: Sex has after-effects that may involve wash rooms, mess, and clean-up or even toilets and kitchens. As a sexophile (someone who likes sex), again, being accommodating should be your responsibility. If you have no food in the fridge, no door on your bathroom, or will be grossed out the next day (god forbid) by the sex whirlwind in your house, they should probably take you back to their place. And you should be ashamed of yourself.
The Marriage Factor
If you or they are married to someone else, it probably goes without saying that you’ll be going over to the single person’s…pad (that is what single people have, right?).
The Stalker Factor
This can be a tricky one, but you don’t want that love-starved girl or that creepy man showing up on your doorstep at all odd hours of the most inconvenient days. If you’re getting clingy vibes from your partner but you’re still going to decide to go ahead with the frolicking, subtly suggest that it be at their place. If you are a stalker yourself, make sure you find out where they live.
or How to Spend 10 Years in Jail in Exchange for a Few Boobs that You Could’ve Just as Easily Seen in a Movie
1. Find their email address.
Surprisingly, this may be the hardest part of this process. In the case of a celebrity, you may have to guess. Try different combinations of their first and last names or initials together with various email servers. If it is a friend’s email you are trying to hack, just ask them.
2. Find the answer to their security question or questions.
In the case of a celebrity, you can usually find out their mother’s maiden name, the city in which they were born, or the name of their pet on Wikipedia or IMDB. In the case of a friend, their Facebook account will usually provide you with all the info you need to get into their email account.
3. Reset their password.
Click on Forgot Password, and type in their email address and the answer to their security question. Also enter an email to which you would like a new password for their account to be sent.
4. Login to their account using your new password, and steal their naked photos.
This is a brute force attack combined with a bit of cleverness. -Brute force in that it may not work on every email address, but try the email addresses of enough celebrities / people / your friends and it will eventually work. Will it work on yours?
Note to the FBI: this is a satirical look at how to avoid amateur identity theft. It is in no way meant to encourage anyone to break any laws.
or The Emperor’s New Models
I can only talk about what I know, so I’m going stick to how things are where I live. I work as a runway, catalog, commercial, promotional, and fitness model in the two-bit modeling field of a rapidly-developing city in a sort of post-third world Mexico.
While the jobs I do may range from catwalks to videos to expositions to clubs to photos, here, the field is divided into two major categories: promotions and modeling. In promotions, you spend the hours on your feet smiling at, speaking with, and taking photos with passers-by. In modeling, you show off clothing, shoes, hairstyles, or some other product either on film or on a runway.
For either, you usually have to start by being selected in a casting.
Castings tend to lend way too much value to the ones of us who get the jobs. We let a silly thing like a client’s whims direct what we, the socially/economically compatible section of an entire generation in our city, consider attractive.
Maybe today, the catwalk needed bearded guys to go with the designer’s look, so all of a sudden, the guys who happened to have gone with stubble are in the newspapers. Or maybe white skin went with the client’s colors, so all the pale girls are on the front pages, regardless of how they actually look, how healthy they are, or what kind of people they are.
Then, no one gives a second thought to the question of whether we deserve their attention or not. We’re automatically cool, and our peers and society-at-large take a giant leap of a shortcut through things such as our personality and (more surprisingly) even what we actually look like. We must be cool because everyone else thinks we are.
In this fairy tale, the emperor’s clothes are real but the emperors are actually paupers.
Promotions need to turn heads to sell products. These take the strategy of dressing up their paper dolls in the hottest paper push-up bras, paper lipstick, paper high heels, and paper miniskirts that could make the most crumpled piece of paper look smoking hot. True, most of us men at least have to work on our bodies (which means we’re either persistent or just vain with a lot of time on our hands), but even some of us men are less good-looking and more just good at talking ourselves up.
Just like in the real world, in the promotional world, talking counts for a lot. I don’t know if all the things talkers say accurately reflect reality though.
So there we are, the kings of the hill, the belles of the ball, the center of the universe toward which everyone else is pulled gravitationally. And we begin to think, although by no (or very little) merit of our own, that we are pretty fucking awesome. After all, everyone else thinks we are, and maybe-just-maybe they’re all onto something.
Just One Bite
Pretty soon, many of us have so much perceived value that we begin to treat poorly those that we see as having less value. It’s not that we’ve suddenly turned into bad or mean people. We just have so much fucking value – that all you people gave to us in the first place by being attracted to the clothes, makeup, and hair spray we had on – that we have to start being careful with whom we share it.
You would do the same thing.
If people were catcalling at you all day, taking photos with you, and telling you how goddamn sabroso you were nonstop, you’d begin to get tired of it. You’d probably begin to seek out other people who felt the same way about the attention and shun, sometimes politely and sometimes not so politely, the people who threw their attention at you.
Real vs. Provisional Value
This kind of thing usually only happens with people who lend actual value to the world. It usually can’t be helped that people are drawn to and eventually shunned by exceptionally smart, athletic, or talented people. It’s generally considered fair exchange for gifted people’s moving contributions to their audiences.
But for those of us whose only contribution to our audience is in a client’s whim, a push-up bra, a simple exercise routine, and the clothes put on our backs, it seems to be a case of misplaced value. It’s not that we’ve actually reached any sort of real pinnacle of human achievement or even begun to approach any kind of frontier of accomplishment at all. Aside from our makeup-enhanced looks, models’ only industry-related talent is that we’ve learned how to walk pretty much straight.
Other than that, we just happened to look the right way at the right time.
It’s no one’s fault, which is why modeling is the poison, not the models, the fans, or even the clients. The poison is a by-product of an industry that does some good, is mostly unnecessary for human survival, but is fun, and makes life more interesting. -An accidental evil that makes a lot of good people act bad, makes other good people feel bad, and makes both of those good people feel sad sometimes.
So the moral of the story is that I guess even third-world (okay, developing) countries have first-world problems.
Also, I think that people lend far too much trust to a man or woman who is comparatively tall, when maybe they shouldn’t.