Happy Fourth-of-July! Here's a popular and explicit piece from Teddy Nutmeg to help you celebrate the holidays right.
Did I mention it was explicit? Ages 16 and over, please. (If you can legally drive a two-ton piece of metal at seventy miles an hour, you should be allowed to read anything you want.) -KV
GUYS, GIRLS AND PORN: WHAT
IS THE DEAL?
by Teddy Nutmeg
"You've just lost your membership card to the human race." -old episode of the Honeymooners
Why do women usually hate pornography so much while men consistently enjoy or at least accept it? This question has plagued me for minutes, giving way to a number of crackpot theories and half-baked scenarios.
Theory the first: The notorious female insecurity. Women are generally very, very insecure about their naked bodies, and with good reason. On television, in movies, in magazines we are unflaggingly bombarded with images of stick figures who seem principally to be composed of overly bright eyes and toothy shining smiles. Lollipop girls with heads far too massive to be supported by their emaciated frames.
Too often, I believe, women think that if their heads are not amazingly disproportionate to their bodies, they fall under the category of fat. That if they can't see ribs poking sickeningly through their sides, they're overweight and must subsist solely off celery, Starbucks and Tic-tacs. And guys too seem to buy into the "skinny is sexy" rallying cry of anorexics everywhere. Sad. Personally, I love women of all shapes, sizes, mental capacities, and temperaments. But that's another article.
So basically, women end up being embarrassed of or even hating their naked bodies and transferring this hatred onto the naked bodies of all women. Think about it. Why doesn't she like to tango (horizontally of course) with the lights on? Assuming, of course, that the she's turned on by her partner, I'll fucking tell you why. Women are trained to hate the naked female body. Ever heard of the Vagina Monologues and wondered why it's such a sensation? Women need to reclaim their bodies as their own-get to know and love their bodies. Men do this on a daily basis. (At least I do.) But back to the subject. Women hate porn because they hate their own bodies.
Theory the second: the average woman doesn't get enough good sex (which makes no sense at all because they can get it whenever they want simply by putting on a short skirt or some tight jeans and moseying down to the local watering hole). The average woman buys into society's labeling of openly sexual women as "sluts". They are jealous and spiteful of girls who do have great sex, who are open and proud of their bodies (porn models), and who we label as "sluts." Disagree? Shut your protesting mouth and read on.
Why don't women get enough good sex, you ask? It's not that all women are man-hating, ball-busting prudes--far from it. Most women wish they had great sex more often, and fantasize endlessly about the perfect bucket o' passion. So why do their fantasies rarely become reality, why does the seed of dreams never bear its fruit of sensual love? Why? Because men suck.
We do, dudes, its true. We're conditioned to believe that we're the best thing since Tang and that the sun wouldn't rise without our consent. And so in the male psyche, good old number one always comes first. Our needs; our desires. This would be OK if more guys also wanted to pleasure their woman.*
But most guys are lazy and only want to come home, take off their shoes, plop down and drink a beer while watching Monday Night Football. Somewhere in there is a hug and a few words with no meaning attached, and if they're lucky, a quick hummer. This is what most guys desire, and this doesn't cut it.
Now, some girls are strong enough to demand that her man please her, and patriarchal society labels these women as "sluts" and says that only sluts pose in or tolerate pornography. Let me tell you something: "Sluts" are confident, sexy, and fun to be with. Women who like sex are not sluts. Women who go out and get sex are not sluts. Women in porn pics are not sluts. These women just don't give a shit about what other people may label them. And they have the balls to make their man give them multiple orgasms (or at least I picture them doing so).
Besides not wanting to seem like a slut, the average woman during sex is too busy thinking about how her naked body looks that she forgets her own needs, (or subjugates them to the needs of the man) and doesn't get off, and too often we men aren't man enough to get her out of her self-hating groove. We're too caught up in our own insecurities, or we're too caught up in busting our own nut-either way, the woman gets the shaft.
Theory the third: women think all porn is the same, and classify it all away in the "nasty slimy poopy stuff" corner of their mind normally inhabited by rats and snakes and football. Take it from Uncle Teddy, "All Porn is Not the Same." Some is art, some is bad art, and some is under the mattress material. Seriously, though, women tend to lump art like Playboy magazine and smut (not that they're anything wrong with smut) like Cherry magazine into the same category, it's like saying Filet Mignon served at Chez Luis is the same as refrigerated McDonalds's from last April. (not that there's anything wrong with refrigerated McDonalds's from last April)
In Playboy, (God bless Hef) the women have cute little "come hither" smiles, and they're tastefully posed, NOT all splayed out and as wide open as frogs on dissecting trays in freshman bio class. In Playboy, the female body is held up as something beautiful to be appreciated, loved, and respected. Playboy has normal articles and normal advertisements. It's a class operation.
In Hustler or in Cherry or in Big Assed Bitches or in Boob Connoisseur or in Anal Monthly or in Euro-Sluts or in Cum Queens or in Beaver Illustrated in Barely Legal or in Asian Poon Hunting or even in Plumpers (God bless Plumpers), the pics and the women are straight up nasty. This is sometimes a good thing, but mostly its just raunchy, filthy full page pictures of women who spread themselves on crusty looking mattresses like rotten strawberry jelly on old toast, with the remaining pages taken up by ads for penis enlargement pumps and XXX phone lines. These magazines are not even magazines. They're the collected rotten fruit from the orchards of capitalism and free speech which has been taken and distilled into one nasty, 190 proof shot of porno moonshine.
This porn I can understand women disliking, shit, I dislike it (most of time, except for Big Assed Bitches and Plumpers [God bless Plumpers]) but to lump all porn, all suggestion of porn into this category, it is just not cool, not right, not kosher at all. The female body is a beautiful thing, but smut can make it look bad. Worse than bad, smut can take a female and make her no longer a living, breathing, loving being with her own desires and dreams, but an object to be ogled, lusted after, and smeared with spent genetic material. Women hate porn because they think it is all smut.
But we can change the way we think about these things, gentle reader, if we all work together.
We can change that women think all nude representations of the female body are smut. We can change that women are so insecure about their bodies and hating themselves for it. We can change that women think they need to tame their natural desires and subjugate themselves to men. We can change the world so that men don't have to hide their Playboys' and Plumpers' under the mattress or in the closet. God bless change.
But now you're asking, "OK, Uncle Teddy, tell me, why do GUYS like porn?" That's easy; we masturbate to it.
-Teddy Nutmeg
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* For Guys: "How to Pleasure Your Woman - The Short Version" by Teddy Nutmeg:
When you get home, immediately hug your female partner closely, like you've missed her and like you need it (because you do), and ask her how her day went. While she tells you every-fucking-thing that happened that day, you sit down and rub the day's anxieties and worries from her feet and legs and shoulders and back and neck, while making little "uh-huh's" to let her know you're listening. Then you kiss her softly and gently on the lips, face and neck, bury your nose in her hair and smell noisily, making grunts of approval to her smell. You nuzzle for a few minutes, look deep into her eyes, put your nose tip to tip with hers, whisper in a husky tone "I need you, I love you, let me take you away from all the cares and worries of life. Let yourself be wholly and completely mine, and we will fly amongst the angels, my darling love." You take her hand softly in hers, walk into the bedroom, put on some Al Green or Marvin Gaye, and then proceed to give her slow, sweet love until her body can't take it anymore; she tenses with anticipation, convulses with involuntary muscle spasms, screams loud enough to break the stained glass windows of the church across town, and then collapses in a quivering, smiling heap of pleasure. She has been pleasured, and somewhere in there so have you, no doubt.
Sometimes the changing of the Google logo on its homepage throws me off, distracts me, makes me forget what I was about to search. Like the one above, dedicated to some one-named artist called "Chagall." I was going to search "Parker Briggsmore Real Name" but instead I searched "Chagall."
