Random Rim Jobs
I swear. True story.Sunday Night Sex Show (Part 1)
Posted on March 27, 2011My friend Viola told me about a sex story reading here in Chicago. She had been wanting to go, and I had been wanting to get out and find things to do similar to Bawdy Storytelling. I didn’t read up on it all, just tagged along with Viola and her roommate to the venue. Viola is fun to do things with because she’s lived in the Chicago area all her life and knows public transportation well. Also, she’s a fun gal.
We took the bus out to the venue, a bar called the Burlington. It was a pretty typical small dive bar except that it took credit cards. It was longer than it was wide with some low bar tables along one side and a bar along the other. The restrooms were toward the back but right across from the bar and not set off from the rest of the room in any way. Just beyond the bar and the bathrooms was a small dj booth above which hung a Lite-Brite that spelled out “no requests.”
There was just one bar stool left unoccupied so we piled our coats up on it and stood around it. When going out of the house when heavy coats are required it becomes a big deal to find a place to put them once inside where it’s warm. Viola has a coat that looks like a sleeping bag with arms so it takes up a lot of room. We ordered our drinks and found a place along the bar to stand.
The hostess recognized us immediately, which is to say she realized that she didn’t recognize us, and introduced herself. The crowd was close-knit enough that the hostess could spot fresh meat. We were told that the performances would be in the back, by the dj booth.
When the show started we realized the performers would not be by the dj booth but in the dj booth. The dj booth was very slightly elevated and was lit for dj’ing, not performing for an audience. The first performer asked several times if she could stand on the counter or the bar and finally began after she was repeatedly shot down.
The first performer, a “comedian,” relied on her audience being able to see her so it was understandable that being in the back corner of a dive bar without any lighting might have thrown off her performance. Or maybe she was just not funny. Because she was not funny. I did not laugh once.
I didn’t need to laugh because the jackass behind me did all the laughing necessary for our section of the bar. His laughing was very loud, in my ear, and percussive. I wanted to punch him. He annoyed me all the more because he was laughing at things that were not funny.
The opening act’s “comedy” was along the lines of performing sex acts because she had to. She likened giving blow jobs to doing dishes. Haven’t we all heard that before? There was absolutely nothing new, or interesting, or funny with her or the next “comedian,” who joked about being slutty. Viola said of both the comedians, who were incidentally both women, that it seemed they pulled out the sex-related material from their acts and mushed it all together to perform for the Sunday Night Sex Show.
There were many more to come, but already Viola was apologizing to me that it was so bad. She wasn’t the show’s producer and she had never been before so I didn’t blame her for the content.
I swear. True story.
The Freebie (Part 1)
Posted on March 02, 2011The Freebie was a good movie, but I yelled at the screen a few times while it was playing. I did not “feel myself wanting to yell at the screen,” I actually yelled at the screen, which is one of the many reasons I don’t see movies in theaters.
The premise is simple: Couple decides they can have one night to fuck someone else. Obviously, the couple is monogamous, and all their friends are monogamous, or at least pretending to be. At a dinner party, one of the guests even goes so far as to say he doesn’t need anyone but his wife. Puke. It was particularly funny because I thought the character was gay. He doesn’t need anyone but his wife as a beard.
I think the Freebie tries to explore the idea that one’s spouse is supposed to be best friend, activity partner, confidant, lover, and everything else, and how that is ridiculously unrealistic. Really, dude, you don’t need anyone but your wife? Then why’d you bother going to a dinner party? Shouldn’t your wife be able to satisfy all your conversational needs, too? Shouldn’t you be happy alone with your wife for all eternity? Not at all. We all need a variety of people in our lives.
After said dinner party, our main characters go home to not have sex. They realize that they can’t recall the last time they did have sex. I’m not great at relationships, but I do know that sex is important. If you’re in a relationship and you can’t recall the last time you and your partner fucked, stop reading RIGHT NOW and get thee to fucking. Even when I was miserable and married I had sex (with my husband) at least once a week. If it went much longer than that, we’d check in with each other to make sure everything was going ok.
I know things get routine. I know it can be difficult to think someone is sexy when you’ve smelled his farts. But you’ve got to have sex if you want your relationship to continue. People need sex. For sure I have felt like I could take or leave fucking; sometimes it seemed like it was more bother than it was worth. When both people in the relationship feel like that then no one initiates sex and no one can remember the last time it happened.
Every time I’ve been in a sexually indifferent mood and had sex anyway, I always enjoyed it. Sure, at the beginning I was bored and wondered why we were even bothering, but eventually I realized I was having a good time, and that my partner was having a good time, and that sex was good. Every time.
So when I was watching the Freebie and saw that the couple realized they couldn’t recall when they’d last had sex, I yelled at the screen, “Fuck!” As soon as they came to the sex desert conclusion, they should have created a mirage right then and there by fucking. Instead, they talked about how they were fine with not fucking and did crossword puzzles in bed.
I suppose it wouldn’t have been much of a movie if the couple fucked each other and remembered that they like fucking each other, and then fucked some more. Well, it could have been a movie, but not this one. This movie showed the main characters talking, and talking, and talking when they should have been fucking, and fucking, and fucking.
They laid out the rules for their freebie, one night they could fuck someone else without “cheating” on each other. They talked when they went to coffee. They talked when they went hiking at what looked like Runyon Canyon. They determined there would be no questions other than whether it happened.
I swear. True story.
May 12, 1991: A Diary Entry
Posted on April 28, 20109:17PM
I got very burnt today at Laura Lee’s house so now I hurt a lot. I want to write a book based on my bad dream. Henry came to see me at work yesterday. I don’t think it was too successful ’cause we just sat in the back room. I should have been at info. working – it just would’ve been better. But I can’t dwell on the past. He likes me, that should be enough. He probably doesn’t even notice the geeky things I do anyway. I’m all red – and it’s not from embarrassment. Oh well. I want to have sex – soon. I guess I’ll just have to wait. There was a loud, excuse me, is a domestic quarrel
April 21, 1991, 3:21 pm: A Diary Entry
Posted on December 20, 2009This is from Toplin and I’m giving it to DJ so I want to write down some of the wittiest lines.
Do you Flog the Bishop?
Do you Paddle the Pickle?
Jerk the Gherkin?
Bang the Banjo
Strangle the Stogie?
Do you visit Mother Thumb and her Four Children?
Play Solo upon a Private Pump Organ?
Are you stigmatized with a Dishonorable Discharge?
Aren’t they lovely?
