Sex and Me
Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored" during Pagan Values Month! Today's topic: making whoopie.
The original instructions for this synchroblog included the question: "What do you think about your relationship with sex?"
Gosh. Sex and I get along great! We've gone gangbusters for a long time! Why, if it weren't for sex, I wouldn't have the Heir and the Spare! Thanks so much, sex!
I've always enjoyed sex. I never played the field much. Sex and I have pretty much been in patio container mode for a long time.
A friend of mine once said that having sex with a spouse is like striking out the pitcher. Which in today's society leads to things like Designated Hitters, I guess.
I've been quite content to strike out the pitcher. An out is an out. Get enough of them, you win the game.
Now, this lifestyle may sound dull to you. Especially if you're young and tender. But I've been around long enough to have learned the lesson taught so eloquently by James Baldwin: The best love is unrequited.
In my fantasies and dreams, I've had sex with lots of different men. Embarrassing examples? Jesse Ventura. Lou Gehrig. Michael Steele. (Well ... that was a LOOOOONNNNNNG time ago! When he had hair and a slender figure and friends who weren't scumbags.)
Not so embarrassing? The gorgeous, studly fellow who serves Mr. Softee Ice Cream from his truck. Oh thank you, bored gods, he's back for a fourth year!
Maybe I'm a little sexually bashful, because as much as I've lusted in my heart for various fellas, I've never acted on the impulse. I just feel like some things are better left in the imagination, where no one gets hurt and the furniture remains pure of any particularly pesky stains.
My relationship to sex: Strike out the pitcher as often as possible, but it's okay to dream about sending A-Rod to the bench after three fruitless swings.
Whew. Topic covered. And just in time -- here comes the ice cream truck!