or How Sex is Like Tennis and Dead Horses, and Other March Metaphors

I have a hair trigger arousal.

In some ways light flirting is an outlet for me to show that I care about people

I’ll date multiple women. We’ll have great times together, and I’ll genuinely like them all. Now, as things start to get serious, I’ll get cold feet. Which one do I choose? People say that you’ll just know, but that’s crazy talk, or at least sounds crazy.

I want to write something intelligent today, but my body wants to sleep.

“Love is not singular except in syllable.” ~Marvin Taylor

7 Simple Ways To Fuck Up Your Relationships

Show me a man who is good at pool, and I’ll show you a boy with a wasted childhood.

Whatever discomfort we feel around sex is commonly aggravated by the idea that we belong to a liberated age – and ought by now to be finding sex a straightforward and untroubling matter, a little like tennis, something that everyone should have as often as possible to relieve the stresses of modern life.

If a woman does say “I just wish I could find a nice guy,” I would suggest this is the equivalent of “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.” Which is to say, she’s not hoping you’ll say, “You’re in luck, I have a dead horse in my backyard!”

The sticking point with sex work is that it’s seen as one end of a continuum of heterosexual, transactional sex where there are women who men can marry for sex, and other women men can pay cash for sex, and maybe somewhere in the middle there are women who will or at least are expected to trade sex for dinner and a movie.
Then there are the reviled-by-pop-culture “sluts” who screw everything up by “giving it away.”