Saturday, October 15, 2005

The Politics of Jerking Off

I am going to say right here and now that I have too much respect for my dates, and too much self-respect to make this journal a chronicle of my romantic adventures. But, when I learn something new about the human condition, I will share it in a general way, like I always do.
One thing I learned about, recently, is about men who bring up “jerking off” in polite conversation, i.e., “Today I was horny, so I jerked off; then I did the dishes and watched the World Series. What did you do today?”
It’s my opinion that I really didn’t need to hear about the first part. I really did not need to picture this guy masturbating. Not that he was a bad looking guy, but…I think that masturbation means different things to men and women. A guy likes to hear that women are touching themselves. It says to them, “these chics need me! They need my cock! I’ll be right there!”
But when a woman pictures a man masturbating, alone in his room, it’s a different story altogether. Even if she accepts that everyone masturbates, it still has some negative connotations:
First of all, she’s probably sure he was thinking of some model, bimbo, movie star, or high school sweetheart, so she may feel a little rejected. Even if she barely knows the guy, and that’s not the case, a veneer of dignity is removed: nothing spells unwanted like a guy jerking off in his room, surrounded by half-empty beer cans and cigarette ash. Remember, chics want guys that other chics want. That’s why there is such a thing as a wing-girl at a party.
There are good times to talk about masturbation, like while you are having mutual-masturbation fun with your gal; or she’s touching you, and you want to show her something different; you had a special fantasy about your girl you just had to; or an intense story from your youth. Otherwise, your fat wiener had better have something to do with your story, and it should be exciting, like, “So I was masturbating in the bedroom, and someone let the German Shepherd in, and he pushed the door open—I think it thought my dick was a hotdog…”

3 comments:

  1. A couple of things on this post:

    1. Wing Girls do exist; most of my single female friends have either used or been such on many occasions and such a startegy continues for several of them to this day.

    2. I agree with you regarding your opinion on guys bringing up their self-abuse adventures. The visual of a guy pleasuring himself is rather unappealing and mechanical since our equipment is pretty simple to render active, and it is one of the moments that truly illustrates that we have not come too far from our anthropoidal ancestors; if you have ever seen a monkey in a zoo spanking his bright red fuckstick while screeching like someone was shoving crushed habanero peppers up his ass then you can picture the exact same thing from even the most genteel of fellows when he is in sore need of "one off the wrist," as the Brits would say.
    As a rule guys should only mention punching the Munchkin if it serves as a setup for a much more interesting story, as you have already pointed out. Case in point: a friend of mine during high school — it really was a friend, because I would admit to this if it had happened to me — once let fly with the population paste and swabbed it up with a towel. he then took a shower and absent-mindedly dried off with the now defiled towel, starting with his hair. He says he apparently did only a cursory job of drying his hiar because his girlfriend came over not long after and asked him why he looked like his hair stylist was Bozo the Clown.

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  2. Beware. These are the men who think a vagina works similarly to a hand.

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  3. Interesting! It may explain the negative responses I've received from girlfriends over the years when I mentioned my "hobby". Yet as the modern day philosopher Woody Allen has said "Don't knock masturbation! It's sex with someone I love!" Truer words were never spoken! Maybe it's a man-woman thing like whether you like the 3 Stooges or not. Maybe I will keep quiet about playing with my weenie from now on. Then again...maybe I won't!

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