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There’s a lot of talk on the Internet this week about why giving the opposite (or same) sex oral pleasure should NEVER be required. Total Frat Move posted this little number on why going down on a girl is the worst, and Total Sorority Move responded with a piece of its own on blowjobs. Well, I’m going to up the ante here and say humans just shouldn’t have sex with each other anymore. Oh, why’s that, you say? I think the whole “sex craze” is over. It’s tired. It’s overrated. Sex is so played out. Just hear me out on this.
It Complicates Things
Sex has never made anything simpler. It only adds unnecessary layers to the delicious red velvet cake that is life. Imagine putting a big, chunky layer of salsa in between the delicious cream cheese frosting of your red velvet cake. It just doesn’t make sense. Why would you complicate something that doesn’t need complicating? Is it in our nature to just fuck up our lives as horribly as possible in the pursuit of fleeting pleasure? If I want to feel good, I’ll just look up at the sun and make myself sneeze. It takes two seconds and the pleasure felt from a sneeze is equivalent to 10 percent of an orgasm–so if you sneeze 10 times a day, you’ll be in ship shape.
Sex creates drama. Drama is bad. Sex is bad. Don’t do sex.
Procreation. Pass. That’s only for married people. Sex outside of marriage is a sin!
You can essentially derive the same pleasure from sex by just calling up your old friend Jill. Open up that laptop and just start abusing your privates until they’re raw. It’s the same reason riding a tandem bicycle is impossible. You are the driver of your own pleasure bus, so sit back and enjoy the ride. Your hand will never hate you for rolling over and falling asleep when you’re done. Your hand will never start snoring after it rolls over and falls asleep.
Sex is stinky. People talk about “the stank” like it’s some sort of beautiful smell. “The stank” is nothing more than a glorified, permeating stench of opening a warm refrigerator. The stank is the end result of making crotch stew: sweat, human juices, butt sweat, SEMEN, warm skin, and B.O. all combined to create the sinful smell of fornication. It’s just nature’s reminder that what you just did is grody. “The stank” is nothing more than a disgusting remnant of your mistake of having sex.
Pleasure should never be this sticky. “I am so incredibly attracted to you, let me cover your body in slimy fluid and then we can clean it up with these $5 hand towels I got at Target.” No thank you. You know what’s not as messy as intercourse? Eating a pizza right out of the box by yourself. It doesn’t even have to be pizza. It can be food that comes in a wrapper or some other disposable. When I’m done with the sex, I have this big mess to clean up. When I’m done with the pizza, I throw the box away. Pizza wins.
Everyone has sex. It’s unoriginal. Oh, you’re attracted to one another? Why don’t you sheeple go have sex with each other? What you should be doing is having talks. You should be going to neat shows and giving each other back rubs. If you think you’re both hot, then you should hold hands and smooch. No one ever got hurt from holding hands and smooching. No one ever shouted someone else’s name while sitting on a park bench watching a sunset. No one ever accidentally finished a funny movie too soon because he got more excited than his partner. YOU should be doing something else that no other set of lovers is doing. Get a life.
Your partner will always expect to be left satisfied after sex. For some, that’s just not possible. To please is to give and to give is to suffer. That’s what John Lennon said, and look how bad that guy fucked up his life by chasing the wrong kind of tail. You don’t want to suffer. Sex causes only suffering and grief. Don’t sex.
It Takes Too Much Effort
Sex is just a long, drawn out process for a short feeling of euphoria. It’s a 15 to 45 minute investment that results in a five second payoff. That’s just bad ROI. One person usually does all the work. Whether it’s some dude whaling away on his lady’s behind, a woman riding her man like California Chrome, or two chicks scissoring each other like the world’s about to end, that’s just too much physical exertion for me. There’s a reason you sit in a big, plush, leather chair while you’re enjoying steak. You wouldn’t see me hopping up on the fine linen and start thrusting like the dickens while I take down a 16 ounce slab of meat, would you? You wouldn’t see me start doing P90X workouts while watching “The Shawshank Redemption,” would you? I rest my case.
If you’re also down with not having sex, use the official hashtag #NoSex2014.