Monthly Archives: September 2010

It’s 9:30pm GMT. Facebook is down. In the dark of the night, I see gas lamps being lit and mothers hushing their terrified children. I listen hard, and hear  the collective moans of marketers, disenfranchised teenagers and lonely women, who’ve already had one more glass of wine than they should have.

People are beginning to get restless. Twitter hums with the cynical i-told-you-so-ism, and journalists sharpen their teeth, preparing to savage 4chan just as they always do when any drama unfolds on the internet. I fear that soon, things may descend into chaos.

In one hundred thousand basements across the English-speaking world, a disunited army of vitamin-D deficient trolls scratch their greasy hair and for the first time in weeks they look, confused, at the thing in the wall that looks a bit like a computer monitor, but doesn’t have any FaceBook or porn on it. The rest of the world knows it as a “window”.

Soon they’ll be on the streets. They wander into the night, the steam rising from the still hot pot noodle hanging from their pathetic chins. And they might begin to remember. They might remember that once, in some hazy past… they were human.

Gimme A Fuckin’ Break

So facebook is down. Oh. Fucking. No. You remember who your girlfriend, boyfriend, spouse and/or children are? Go speak to them. Call your parents. Call your friends and have a conversation with them, instead of leaving look-at-me-I’m-still-alive type comments on their innane status.

I bet it’s in the news tomorrow. I can almost feel the heat from the friction of the journalists’ wringing hands, ready to make it sound like The Great Facebook Blackout Of 2010 is some terrible invasion of privacy (that will somehow be of benefit to the paedophiles or the atheists or something) and making people who are only on the fringe of the online community fear it even more than they already do, and giving ammunition to the ludites who are against this unifying technology.

But most importantly, stop being such a fanny about it.

Shhh… what’s that I hear on the wind? Listen… it’s the whispered titter of some pimpled 4channer shrugging and saying, “I did it for the lulz…”

I’m going to change the pace a bit for this blog post. It’s not written by me. I’ve Shanghaied a rookie, a guest blogger, to keep you entertained. It’s my girlfriend, KC. She wants to talk to you about using sex toys for the first time. (For the more cynical amongst you, this is for real.) I’ve included it for several reasons: first, it gives sex toy noobs an insight into what it’s like to be new to sex toys. Second, it’s very honest. Third, I like to encourage her to write because she’s pretty creative. Fourth, and perhaps most importantly, it makes me sound awesome and it’s a huge ego stroking for me. It’s like a testimonial to how good I am. But it’s my blog (and I’m JY, by the way. That’s information you’ll need to know to understand what’s coming), so deal with it, punk. Here’s what she has to say about her discovery of sex toys…

It would be totally honest of me to say that I was a prude when it came to sex and that I didn’t really have a sex drive… or so I thought. This all changed when I started my relationship with JY.

JY is what you would call a highly sexually motivated person. He has done things that would make most women run a mile. He has a very high sex drive and is proud of it. When we first met, he knew that sex was not that important to me, but that has all changed now.

JY works in the sex industry as a writer and reviewer so brought things home from time to time. He had a box of things under his bed and when I first saw them, I can honestly say I was scared but also intrigued. I was a complete virgin to sex toys, but when he first used a small clitoral vibrator[ED: it was an RO-80, for those keeping score] on me it felt great. It took me a while but I have now used most of the things in the box, and when he is at work and I’m feeling horny they are useful until he can come home and see to me properly.

So what I’m trying to say is don’t knock something until you’ve tried it because until you have you won’t know how amazing they can make you feel.

And there we have it. My girlfriend’s first foray into the world of sex blogging and an honest opinion of the good that sex toys can do for a relationship. She’ll be blogging again soon to tell you about how we met, and how I couldn’t perform on the first night. That blog might not make me sound as cool.

You be the judge…

I robbed this photo off yahoo's homepage this morning.

Welcome to the first in a series of Weird Shit You Didn’t Know About Sex blog posts. I’ll be adding more of these as and when I can, but I want to start with a really interesting one. So let’s get started.

Did you know…

…that you can get STIs in places other than your genitals? It’s true, and it happens more than you might think. Have you ever got cum in your eye? I have, a bunch of times. But what I didn’t know was that you can catch gonorrhoea, Chlamydia, and AIDS… IN YOUR EYE. You can even get pubic lice. In your eye. Yeah.

It usually happens when a guy ejaculates in someone else’s face, or in his own face, either accidentally or on purpose. For most of us, this just results in an irritating case of pink eye for a couple of hours. It’s the kind of pink eye that makes you embarrassed to leave the house, just in case anyone asks how it happened. In the vast majority of cases, the redness and irritation soon recedes, leaving you ready to do it again the next time you’re horny enough. The pink eye only lasts about as long as the feeling of guilty, empty, self-loathing that generally follows after you’ve accidentally or deliberately been bukkaked.   

But occasionally, if you’ve had kinky, sticky sex with someone who has an infection, or you’ve accidentally jizzed in your own eye and your penile hygiene isn’t what it should be, then you have something altogether more serious to worry about. You have an S.T.Eye™.

Pubic Lice

I didn’t make this stuff up just so I could make that shitty joke, it’s all true. (Though I’m not quite sure how you’d get pubic lice in your eye. Maybe they would live in your eyebrows or something.) Here’s Dr. Debby Herbenick (M.P.H., Ph.D.) of the Kinsey Institute, Associate Director of the Center for Sexual Health Promotion at Indiana University, talking about the unfortunate issue of Jizz-Eye:

“There is no reason to be embarrassed about this happening. Doctors see patients for sex-related concerns very

Debby's pretty hot. I wonder if she's ever had jizz in her eye...

often. When men masturbate, they sometimes accidentally squirt semen into their eye. And men and women who have male sex partners have often been in this situation, too, so it’s an issue that many people can sympathize or even empathize with. Because eyes are so sensitive though, you will want to make an appointment with a healthcare provider sooner rather than later, and be honest with them about what happened so that they know there is a risk of a sexually transmissible infection, or STI, affecting your eyes.”

So that about covers it. Let’s sum up what we’ve learned today.

1. You can get pubic lice in your eye. IN YOUR EYE.
2. It happens quite a lot.
3. If you’re worried that you have an STEye™, consult a doctor and be honest.
4. I invented the phrase STEye™, which makes me amazing.
5. Blokes are disgusting.

Next time in my series of Weird Shit You Didn’t Know About Sex, the worrying new trend of “bug chasers”.

Today I’m going to address the prickly issue of anal sex. Like I always do when I start a blog post that will inevitably be filthy, I’m going to share an anecdote with you.

I had a girlfriend for a couple of months while I was a student. For the sake of this blog post, let’s call her Vicky. Because that was her name and I’m not feeling very creative. We kind of got on ok most of the time, but in truth we didn’t have much in common; we just had sex one night and then continued to have sex because we were too lazy to meet more suitable partners. You know how it goes.

At the time, I really liked anal sex. My mind was still so corrupted by American pornography that it didn’t even occur to me that some girls might not enjoy it as much as others. I just sort of expected that they wanted to try it. That’s pretty stupid with hindsight; believing that girls all love anal sex because I’ve seen some doing it in porn is a bit like expecting George Clooney to be able to take out my appendix because I saw him on ER. (I can’t think of a more contemporary popular cultural reference example than that. I don’t have a telly. Feel free to leave better similes in the comments.)

Vicky had never tried anal sex, although like most woman she had admitted to finding the idea sexy and to occasionally stimulating her anus during masturbation. (That last bit is a copywriter’s way of politely saying she “tickled her asshole from time to time”.) Nothing unusual there. But I wanted to try it and she was pretty open to the idea so convincing her wasn’t too much trouble.

Darth Vader’s Helmet

Hats off for bumsex!

I’m going to cut to the chase here. We were both a little drunk when we did it. We didn’t even use condoms, for fuck’s sake. It took some persuasion to make my dick hard enough to penetrate, and she insisted on about three bottles of ID Glide, which is fair enough. Eventually I was getting a few inches in, enough to be pleasurable. We took it slow. At one point I pulled right out of her, waited a second, and pushed back in, and then did it again. The third time I did it, I nearly gagged. My dick was suddenly wearing a little brown hat.

There was a lump of poo on my dick. It was like Darth Vader’s helmet, except brown. I didn’t know what to do, but I was pretty sure I was going to die of a yeast infection or get vaginitis on my knob-end (that’s possible, right?) and that it would rot off and leave me with nothing an infected stump. In my confusion, I just slid it back into her and hoped that my little brown hitchhiker would just go back home, but no. It was still there when I pulled out again. And it was bringing friends.

After that, I was never so keen on anal sex again. I’m not really squeamish and I didn’t really nearly gag; the truth is that it was just a bit embarrassing. I still like the thought of it and enjoy watching it, but I’m not fussed about actually doing it. With the right preparation, it can be fantastic. But the preparation for anal sex is not a particularly pleasant process. To do it properly and cleanly, you need douches, anal relaxants, anal sex toys and butt plugs to “warm you up” and ensure easy penetration, and then you need to take it slow. But even the best preparation is sometimes inadequate, and the unsuspecting bloke will still often end up with sweetcorn in his dick hole.

You know how people tell you never to look down when you’re walking across a high bridge? The same applies to men during anal sex. Don’t look down and you’ll be fine, because you might not want to see what’s going on down there.

What are your thoughts on anal sex? Love it? Hate it? I’m a take-it-or-leave-it kinda guy when it comes to buttsecks. What about you?