I've put my porn into an unlocked steamer trunk in the attic. There's no way I can get to it without... um... going in the attic and... actually opening the trunk and... getting it out of there... You know, that's not a very good barrier to my porn. Maybe I should've thought that out a bit better? But I'm definitely not going to throw the whole thing down a well, though. It took me years to acquire all that stuff. I'm sure not getting rid of it this month.

Okay, so I've been trying to go 40 days without sexual contact. Including masturbation. The first seven days, I got aroused very easily, but it was manageable... But after that first initial bit, things aint so bad. You know, I regularly get a lot of enjoyment out of life in plenty of ways that don't involve the flesh. Like reading, watching movies- you know, the stuff I normally do when I'm not having sex. Which is pretty-much always. So life hasn't changed much- I'm still not having sex either way.

When I look at a women's magazine, I often get the distinct impression that life for a woman is a battle to sexually-manipulate and control as many people as possible... but only having sex with the select few who manage to make it through her elaborate Boolean matrix of conditions. They want to give sex only to those men who have very distinct traits which always include: the ability to increase her own popularity or the ability to bestow the biggest clutch of gifts or comforts on them. As for every other man who doesn't quite make the grade- well, she'll let him try to give her a few things, but no way in hell will he ever get anything back from her.

Mmmmmmmmm.... Porrrrrrrrn....

So, most women don't seem to care that I'm on this challenge. As I suspected: a celibate male doesn't really attract sexy shenanigans like he would in a romantic-comedy screenplay.

Where are the leather-miniskirted sorority girls prancing-about the street whilst I sit at the window, hilariously trying to put my mind on other things? Where are the S&M queens waiting to unexpectedly ambush me in my bedroom when I come home from a long day at the office? Where are the Hooters waitresses who are supposed to show-up at work and give me Buffalo-wing hoagies while throwing an impromptu wet t-shirt contest? Bah, who'd have thought that Hollywood was all tinsel and make-believe and fakery?? (In case you can't tell, I'm slathering-on the sarcasm real thick...)

Gee, who'd ever think that Hollywood would create entertainment based on ridiculous concepts? When I first saw commercials for the movie "Bubble Boy" back when it was in theaters... I'm thinking 'Okay... so this guy has no immune system. A-ha ha ha ha!! He gets sick a lot! Ha ha ha! He has to live in a sterile environment or he'll die! Ha ha ha! What could be funnier?!' *Shrug* Who the sam-hill thought of that one??

Or imagine what the original proposal for the old tv show "Hogan's Heroes" must've been like? Imagine the head screenwriter is having lunch with a Hollywood tv producer:

"Okay, J.C., remember the success of the movie "Hogan's Heroes"? Imagine this: World War II. A bunch of prisoners in a Nazi camp... With me so far? But here's the thing- it's a COMEDY!!! These will be the funniest damn Nazis you can ever imagine!"

J.C. stabs-out his cigar. "Nazi prison, eh? I like it! Milton, old boy-" He jabs his finger across the table. "-we are goin' straight to the top with this one!"

Do you want to know what I think the scariest thing has to be about Hollywood? For every one awful film or bomb tv show that comes-out, there were at least four or five worse proposals that didn't make it past the initial sales-pitch to the producer. *Shiver* Now that is frightening.

"Okay, J.C., you've got this guy in the Old West who bites the heads offa chickens...Okay? But here's the trick: he's also the room-mate of a grizzled transvestite prospector!"

Anyways, About Porn and Sexual False-Advertising...

I got-off track. Yes, this experience has made me think a little bit about the mechanics underlying porn and female sexual signaling... Some women claim that porn is an example of male degradation of women or proof that men are pigs who can't control their hormones.

Yes, men buy pornography, but it is women who are voluntarily the main performers in the industry. Everywhere you look, be it a tv commercial, a magazine, Victoria's Secret, or the skin-flick business, you will always see a woman splaying-herself on a bed in lingerie endorsing sex. Well, with the exception of porn that's oriented towards gay males (but that's pretty much the only exception). Yes, men are often the magazine publishers and owners of many nude-girl web-sites... but it is women who are the main attraction. When it comes to sex, the planet seems to revolve around them.

This is what I think about porn: porn isn't about degrading women into sex objects. Porn isn't about men being pigs. Porn is a symptom of the male desire to escape from the fact that, when it comes to sex, women have us totally by the short-hairs! Seriously, think about it- porn portrays women who love sex. Women who actually want to have sex. Women who are openly displaying sexuality and not making you jump through damn hoops to get it! Us guys want a woman who will accommodate our physical urges without all the extortion that a normal woman would normally attempt. That's what porn is- illustrative of our desire to get-away from the sex cartel. Nothing more.

It's tough for us guys to control our hormones sometimes. Let's play the victim game that women are so fond of playing: if men truly can't control themselves due to their hormones, then who carries more blame? The man for falling victim to his uncontrollable biological urges, or the woman who poses nude to make a quick buck off him? If women know that men are weak because of their testosterone, then why don't women do us the favor of not supplying the sodding porn? Don't women have a moral responsibility not to lead us poor, stupid men astray? Who is the bigger criminal: the dealer exploiting a person's dependency on drugs, or the person who can't resist a noseful of blow?

But no, I don't think men are victims of our biological urges. Hell, ninety-percent of the human experience is all about rising-above our genetically-programmed biological urges! I just wanted to use the exact same cheap argument that a woman will use when defending her own hormone-linked poor behavior. I think men can pretty-much control their urges. In fact, women (and the law) demands it. But if women expect us to control our hormones, then why the hell does a woman have the right to be a bitch as a result of her period?? Answer me that one because I'm getting a headache over it! If a woman demands that a man control his testosterone while he's in a state of extreme sexual arousal, then she has no right to use PMS as an excuse to act like an archaeopteryx on crack!

Yes, men think quite a bit about sex- our minds are supposed to. (If we weren't, our species wouldn't have lasted very long after being thrown-out of the Garden of Eden.) Women think it's just so darn funny to laugh at how many times we think about sex. They get so much satisfaction from calling us names based on that. But guys: it's even funnier when you realize how often a woman thinks about looking sexy and being the center of everyone's attention. Seriously, they are so neurotically fixated on making themselves look more adorable, it's laughable. Women are slaves to their debilitating vanity to the point of bordering on obsessive-compulsive disorder. I mean, American chicks are people who spend four billion dollars a year on their freakin' fingernails! You almost pity the poor angels... But whatever pity you might feel for them dies-off as soon as you realize why they do this: most women think they have the God-given right to grab whatever they want from us. And they regard sexual attraction to be legitimate currency in order to pull this kind of conniving, two-faced crap. They make themselves-up to put themselves in situations which would naturally draw-out affection from you, but they deliberately starve you of their own. In the presence of your attraction, they react with selfish opportunism.

That pisses-off all us guys, but the thing that bugs me even more is: since men usually can control themselves in the face of sexual arousal, a woman insists that this become an obligation whenever she feels like sending-out a huge-volume of sexual advertising. How does a man's ability to not look become a requirement to not look all of a sudden?! Why do we have to restrain ourselves when the chicks clearly don't? Women like to retreat behind an impenetrable shield of "you must control yourself" while they get to shimmy around and do whatever the heck they please. This goes directly back to accountability and how women despise it so.

I swear, I've witnessed the following situation one too many times: a woman has dressed herself-up to look incredibly sexy. She's got her make-up and hair and nails done. She's wearing something that clings to every curve on her body. She's moving her hips in such a way to draw every gaze in the room. And then, if a guy comes-up to her who's a little too unattractive or starts acting a little too irritating, she acts *shocked*- she insists that she wasn't doing anything at all to invite his attention, and he should just avert his eyes and go away.

I mean, this is pure bullshit- she's trying to be unaccountable, that's what she's doing. Women will put on their slinkiest, tawdriest outfits and claim that it is up to the man to control himself. Say I'm in a crowded room and I flip someone the middle-finger. They come-over and say "what the hell, bonehead?" I respond with "I'm not doing anything to make you angry, so what is your problem, ya lackwit!?" That is exactly equivalent to how a woman flaunts her sexuality and tries to get away with it. Don't women ever think that they can be responsible for provoking other people's behavior?? No! Because she might be held accountable for something! We can't have that, now can we?! She's too busy clinging to her selfish, rapacious habits to be held accountable!

That's how women lure us into the machinery of their sex cartel: they withhold sex while dangling it in front of us. Women know when sex becomes most valuable to you: when it's just barely out of your reach. Having it in sight, yet not quite having it, we feel so tantalized, so grindingly pained that we'll do anything to go the extra inch and quench the unfulfilled longing that she's deliberately stimulated in us. When that happens, you let your guard-down, and that is when she can get whatever the hell she wants out of you. That is when she will try to create as many conditions as possible for you to fulfill; that is when she can create maximum havoc for you. She will make you pay for her dinner, paint her ceiling, scale cliffs or eat shit- and she will love to watch you scramble. In any similar situation where sexual attraction wasn't involved, this would be called 'arm-twisting'. And best of all, she doesn't care how many men she gets to destroy in the process: remember Insane Girl From Indiana?

How can Female False-Advertisers be so Frigging DUMB Sometimes?

Unless a woman is actually serious about offering sex, her outward actions that would obviously invite sex are false advertising.

No one likes false advertising. It makes people angry when you take the 'giant' toy airplane out of the cereal box and it's only two inches long. Realistically, if a businesswoman puts "SEX SEX SEX" all over her business card, should she be surprised when people start calling her and asking about the sex she's offering? Can she blame them? But some women are so self-obsessed and so dumb, they won't even make this connection! When I was studying in Taiwan, there was this one female student, Jennifer. Jennifer was a blond sorority bitch, to be honest. I knew she was one the day I met her. Not because I judged her on how she looked, but on how she acted in the first twenty-four hours that I actually got to know her. (I kid you not, friends- she belonged to the sorority 'Delta Delta Delta'. Don't that make you just want to puke?)

When we went-out to bars as a group, I noticed she'd have a predictable recurring behavior pattern. She'd wear something that was a bit sexier than any other woman in the room. On the dance-floor, she'd dance suggestively, gyrating and grinding her hips-up against whatever male happened to be the studliest in her eyes. She would yelp and holler and whoop to ensure that the spotlight would always return to her. This happened very regularly; it was almost as if she had a psychological mania to have every penis in the room pointed at her.

She had a crush on this one other American student who was in our dorm: Bernard. Bernard was a huge black guy who'd been a football player in high school. He was a big, barrel-chested wall of a fellow- absolutely bulging with muscle.

But, he also had to be one of the nicest and intelligent American students there, once you got past his tendency to distance himself from other people. His Chinese was excellent. He didn't fool-around with women. He didn't drink (he was a Muslim) and he was independent in his thinking... With a bit too much liquor inside her though, Jennifer was, at any given point, draped over him in any given bar. Copping feels. Groping. Making lewd, suggestive comments at him. (All the other American female students did the exact same thing to Bernard, but not anywhere to the extent that Jennifer did it.) Bernard, on the other hand, he accepted the attention, but never accepted their invitations into the sack.

One time, my pals and I stepped-outside our favorite bar to get some fresh air. In the alley next to the bar, we saw a pair of jean-legs. It was a fairly chilly night, and we stepped-over to investigate. It was Jennifer. She was laying-out on the concrete, curled-up in the foetal position. Us three guys felt like we had to do something to help. I looked to my left at Herman, looked to my right at Rick.

"We can't leave her here." Rick said. We walked-over to the alley.

"Um... hey, Jen, you awake?" I asked. No response. I poked her with the toe of my sneaker.

"Nnn. Nnnn." She twitched.

"Okay, Jen? Can you get up? It's cold out here and we don't want someone to rob you." Herman asked.

"Nnn..." She mumbled.

"Ugh. It's getting cold. Let's try to pick her up and move her into the bar." Rick suggested.

Two of us took her legs and Herman tried to take her shoulders. We started to lift her...

"Nnn!! Nnnn!! No!" She squeaked... she flailed her arms and tried to kick us.

"Oh, just jim-cracking-dandy!" I spat as I struggled to grasp her foot.

She nailed Rick in the shoulder with the smallish heel of her boot.

"Ow! That's it!" We laid her back down on the ground. I had to fight the urge to deliver a swift kick to her kidney. Rick knelt down to her and said patiently. "Jen, we're trying to take you out of this alley. It's cold out here and a motorbike could suddenly drive-through or... it's just not safe for you to be out here, understand?" Her lips moved and a barely-audible noise leaked-out.

He brought his ear close to her lips. I couldn't hear what she was saying. Rick nods, stands-up and turns to us.

"She wants Bernard to come get her." Rick spat, irritatedly. "Go in, tell Bernard to come-out here and save Jennifer." He grumbled, shaking his head. "God, what a bitch." he added, holding his shoulder in pain.

"If she wasn't a woman, I'd whack her upside the head with a broken bottle." Herman snarled. I was a little surprised, since Herman had to be one of the least-violent people I'd ever met.

Soon, Bernard came-out, picked-up Jen like a baby and brought her back into the bar while the rest of us guys looked-on.

An hour later.

I was taking a taxi home with Bernard. I was a little jealous at the fact that he always got plenty of attention from the other female students, and I said to him: "You know, sometimes I wish women would pay attention to me like they way they go after you."

He grinned back. "Don't envy me. Sometimes I wish Jennifer would keep her damn hands to herself and leave me alone." We shared a laugh. Yes, we both agreed something that we never spoke: she wasn't worth it.

On another occasion.

Herman, Rick and I were traveling back to the dorms in a cab; we'd just spent a typical night at a bar. Jennifer was sitting in the front seat, absolutely livid about something that happened to her earlier that evening which none of us saw take place. I can only imagine what it was, but some guy she didn't find hot obviously touched her in a way that she didn't appreciate.

"Why the hell do I always get groped in bars?!" She howled at the windshield. "I hate it! Men are fucking pigs!" She then went-on to say about how things are much different on her campus; that if a guy ever touches a woman the wrong way, he'll get punished. "I have no defense here!" She fumed. "Who the hell protects me here?! Certainly not you dick-heads!" She shouted back at us.

Uh, we don't try to protect you? I glowered. Must I remind you that we tried to... oh, never mind. You were too drunk (and too dumb) to remember anyway.

The other two guys in the cab and I all knew why she got groped, but not one of us would dare say it. It's because of the way you act and the way you dress, toots: like a floozy. If you act like a floozy, then people will treat you like one! DUH! It's simple cause and effect! Hello McFly?! Anyone home?!? But no, if any of us dared to say that, she'd have gone ballistic and ripped us to shreds with her retractable talons. She would somehow insist that she's certainly not the one who's behaving in a way that would invite that sort of treatment, and it's all mens' fault because men should control themselves.

I mean, if I go-out naked in the street with fireworks launching-out of my ass, can I fairly shout "Why the hell are you people looking at me?!"? Shouldn't she ever control herself?

She'd still insist that it was because men are pigs that she gets groped, not because of the false advertising she transmits. Is she trying to kid us or herself?? The binty chick's entire life is one big lapse of judgment!!

But no, a woman will do as she bloody well pleases. If anything bad happens to them, it is always the man's fault- in this situation, they have rights but no responsibilities. Conversely men have responsibilities but no rights. If she's mashing her boobs in a guy's eyes and pulling-up her skirt to show the world her bum whilst grinding her crotch into his, then that's just peachy- but if he touches her in a place she doesn't like while she's doing all this, she's free to scream and rant and rave and the guy'll get in trouble. And then, there is the 'No means no' mantra. By law, a man must have complete and total respect for a woman's 'no' when it comes to sex. But the woman doesn't have to pay attention to a man's 'no' under any circumstances, ever.

Whoever called women the 'fairer sex' didn't know a bloody thing about them.

Gone Hookin'

During World War II, Winston Churchill was once at a dinner-meeting regarding issues of morale in the British Army. The meeting topics also touched-on the topic of prostitution and venereal disease among British soldiers. He was sitting next to some Lord's wife, and during the chat, he asked her: "Ma'am, would you sleep with me for a million pounds?" She thought about it for a while and said yes, yes she would.

"Well then..." Winston continued "... would you sleep with me for five pounds?"

She acted shocked. "No! What do you think I am?!" She asked indignantly.

"Ma'am, we have ascertained what you are." He said calmly. "Now, we are haggling over the price."

(A pause for your laughter- Winston often had a few zingers reserved for certain Lords' irritating wives. On one occasion, he ran afoul of one such upper-class lady. She sneered: "Sir, if you were my husband, I would serve you poison!" Without missing a beat, he replied: "And if I were your husband ma'am, I would drink it.")

As I was about to say... a prostitute has to be the most honest woman on the planet. Think about it: at least she is up-front when she says she's going to take your money in exchange for sex. As the above dialogue indicates: a lot of non-prostitutes will jump in the sack if you give them enough money- as Churchill said, it's just a matter of haggling.

I've never given serious thought about the issue of legalizing prostitution. If prostitution were legal in the U.S. (outside of Nevada, that is), I am very certain that I wouldn't partake. I have no desire to pay for sex and the disease factor frightens the hell out of me no matter how well health-inspected the industry might potentially be; and the main reason would be because I vastly prefer sex when it is shared between two adults who care for each other. (Ideally, at least, but if I have a year-long dry period, I'll take what little I can get.) I like to be able to cuddle afterwards with someone who actually means something to me. But for those of you who don't share my lofty ideals about legalized hooking, think about this: us guys don't have many weapons to fight the female sex cartel. But legalized prostitution- now that would be a damn big cannon, wouldn't it? Just something for y'all to think about.

Tell me guys: aren't you getting pretty sick and tired of the obvious conniving hypocrisy of the female way? Well, Aren't you? Isn't it time you went-after a woman who is openly treating sex as a sellable commodity instead of a woman who does the exact same thing but wraps it in names like 'dating' or 'flirting'? Isn't it time you were with an official whore instead of with a woman who has deluded herself into believing she doesn't habitually think and act like one? Wouldn't it save you some bother?

Twenty Days Left

Well, anyways, the point is- my life really hasn't changed much. Mainly because I could almost never get sex from a woman before I went on this little crusade. It's like promising yourself you'll go forty days without getting bitten by a Smurf! Where the flaming hell is the challenge, exactly?

Well, the real challenge was (for the first week) keeping my hands off myself, so to speak. The external effect of women coming-on to me has not been a factor. And apart from that... well, it's not really any different than any other day. To you American women: I don't need you either, so- nyah!

This is gonna be a cinch! You know, I won't even need to post updates at the 20 day and 30 day points. They'd just be a bunch of 'ditto' marks.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Scientists have reportedly been making progress in developing a new drug: a so-called 'Orgasm Pill' that will allow women to achieve sexual climax on their own. (Female whooping applause.) You can read all about this pill in my latest book, which is called: The Deadliest Drug on the Planet. (Laughter.) How about that? The women clapped at the lead-up and the men laughed at the punch-line." -- Norm MacDonald, Weekend Update, "Saturday Night Live".

Back to Home