Thursday, June 28, 2007

Remember what I said foo..

So to continue from yesterday, I will talk about catcalling.

I got really distracted reading Ms. Doolittle's writing and yeah.

Where was I? Crackpot sexologist?

Actually before I get to the cat calling let me say that since I heard someone use that term to refer to Ducky Doolittle as a CrackPot Sexologist something in my wee black heart went DING DING DING BINGO WE HAVE A WINNER!

So oh wow I entirely just realized that I have never spoken about this here or really in public aside from to close friends.

My secret is out.

I want to be the laymans sexologist when I growed up.

I'm talking about people like (now understand this is just my view of these folks they do a lot more than talk about sex or work in the sex industry) Tristan Taormino, Annie Sprinkle, Betty Dodson I could go on and on.

Essentially I am really truly passionate about sexuality. Having it, understanding it, helping people understand and enjoy theirs. Way deep down in my soul I want to give the world orgasms. Seriously. I want people's sexuality to stop being fucked with, and if it has help them to get past that and emerge out the other side fully able to make some love.

I don't want to be a doctor. I want to be a homie. I want to be one of those people you can call up and say, "GURL Oh MAH GAWD you will not believe what just came out of my vajayjay." And feel comfortable.

Write me and say, "I'm a gay man and I'm afraid of teh buttsex what do I do?"

You get my drift here?

I really think my whole pansexual I'll bite it if I think it's hot thing is more of a blessing than most people would think. That along with my love of sexuality and the fact that I can freaking identify with people. And it would make me feel good.

Wow.

I had to back it up there for a second. I've not really been ahem open about this with many people at all. Granted as passionate about it as I am,I have my reservations.

Most of those don't really stem from a lack of knowledge. I read about sex and sexuality, I talk about it, I write about it that's not the problem. I think the real base fear is that I will suck at it. Of course. But I study and just lately I've been trying my hand at writing some non-fiction (hopefully) humorous essays and things that I am growing the cajones to submit places.

Also (and I am totally showing my ass here, if you laugh at me I'll find you and shit in your computer) another thing that I am frightened of is my lack of education. I have not been to college and my burning need to learn and my disgust with how education works in this country even at higher levels are at constant battle.

I very honestly will be goddamned if I am going to spend essentially my ENTIRE income to get a piece of paper that theoretically promises the big dollars but in reality doesn't. I think the number of college grads I know who work in retail, food service, customer service etc and not in what they got their fucking degrees in to begin with plays a big part in that. I have met more Phd's who sling coffee or hash because they have to than I care to think about.

Education is something I value so deeply and intensely that it feels cheap to just say 'Oh I should just go to college'. Also for years now because if I'm going to be honest with myself from the first time I heard Mary Martone and Dan Savage on the radio giving sex advice (Seattle folks am I dating myself here or what?) I knew then that's what I wanted to do.

And after all these years I still (unless it's the Kinsey Institute I have no desire to have that experience. The life I want to see stretched out in front of me has nothing to do with physics, beer bongs, football games or any of that. Never has and as much as I try to delude myself never will.

I am self taught. I am taught by the incredible people I meet in person and through their books and other media. I want experience not to go into a blackhole of debt for a piece of paper.

Holy fucking crap.

If you haven't been reading me for years it's fairly rare that I ever say anything quite this massively personal and close to my heart and it feels weird but I think I'm ok.

So that people is my big dream. Well one of them anyway. Contrary to how I might appear I have a very clear vision of what I want to remember when I'm 98 years old sitting on my front porch with a cup of tea in one hand a cat in my lap and a smile on my face.

Ok back to my original topic of cat calling if you're still here.

As I said yesterday my two main means of diffusing cat calls are to either perplex the jackass or scare them.

No really it works. You see folks I am very good at coming up with strange things to say off of the top of my head. Included but not limited to gems such as these, imagine a carload of horny dickheads pull up and say: "HAY BABY U WAN RIDE DIS?"

Some of my favorite responses:

"Hell yeah I'd love to give you all the Herpes."

"Ride in your car?" Ok rule with that one is you have to stare sort of blank and wide eyed at the person speaking to you. Try it sometime it freaks people out. And bonus points if you can dead pan your voice at the same time.

"Um what? Cookie? No wait are you saying I get a cookie?" This is a proven fact if people think you are batshit insane they will leave you alone.

Other tactics. I like a weird random lecture. Case in point the other night. Same scenario here is what I did.

Essentially I told the boys that I could get in their car but how were they to know that I wasn't packing heat and would not in fact roll them, steal their car and pistol whip the one with the crappy jewelry? And of course again if you do something like this the more calm and conversational you are the better. I then proceeded to tell them that the only thing I wanted to do with any of them was maybe give them, TEH HERPES.

They sort of blinked then drove away.

My all time favorite however has to be last winter. I wear a big red knee length coat. And this car pulls along side me a boy hanging out the window asking if he can come home with me. Now remember, I do the dead pan so you just have to imagine it.

I said: "Baby the only way you're coming home with me is if you and my old man play prison bitch and I get to call you Sally."

In case you're not as pervy as me I was inviting him to get violently violated in his nono hole while getting beat with a baton by me. It took him I'm serious about thirty seconds to realize that was in fact what I was saying and his face blanched and they drove away. I chortled the whole way home.

More dead pan responses. Bonus points if you speak really slowly.

"Are you fucking serious?"
"No." Give the perp a long look up and down, shake your head slightly. "Really no."
"I am anti-penis."

That last one is fun.

If you don't want to talk or can't think of my brand of weirdo humour try these.

Unless you are in the middle of working out come to a dead stop, pivot slowly and stare. No raised eyebrow, no smile, no frown just stare. It can be really fun to watch a grown man squirm. Also the one brow lifted and the "are you really that fucking stupid" look can work wonder.

I know I'm weird but I do have a fairly sadistic streak and I really enjoy making stupid people squirm and look like the dickheads they are. Granted this sort of thing doesn't work for everybody but if it works for you, work it.

Ok that is seriously more than enough tl:dr from me.

Homo Out.
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