Friday, January 14, 2005
DEPRAVED
I have a very dirty secret to confess.
I have some very dirty magazines at my house filled with fictional stories and pictures. I purchased them from an old boyfriend who thought a gift certificate to "Castle Boutique" would be the quintessential birthday gift. At the time, I thought it was a funny gift, if odd. I remember giving him a birthday hug and making one of those fake faces we all give when we over exaggerate our "thanks" for a gift we loathe. I wish now that I hadn't been so convincing.
Shortly after my birthday dinner, he drove us to the sex toy store to spend the certificate. Did I mention he gave me $50 worth? We looked around the store and all I could think to myself was how this gift was so terrible, and that we were spending my birthday in a goofy store. Any other day, fine- but my birthday? I couldn't see anything I NEEDED, so I purchased something I thought would be, at the very least, interesting.
Steamy Erotica.
Later, at home, I ripped away the cellophane wrapper and discovered pages of awkward looking black-and- white photos of men and women from the 70s in various poses and mullets. Fat women, skinny women, punk men, bearded men, hairy-chested men....all naked. I laughed my ass off.
The stories were inanely entertaining. Girl is the tour guide for a vacation tour bus, three guys are checking her out, they start touching her, she invites them for a lunch break snack on the bus while the others are out, she likes one of them in particular, and he does her in the back of the bus.
Highly unrealistic. What woman in her right mind would want to do it on a bus? Have you seen a tour bus? The seats usually fit only two people, and there would have to be all kinds of awkwardness involved.
The thing that bothers me the most, however, is that many of these sexually starved, nymphomaniac characters seem to be having sex all over the place (elevators, the back of a van, "downstairs with the taxi driver, while my husband is upstairs taking a shower," etc, and none of the authors seem it prudent to add a word or two about the characters using condoms. (Never mind that they cheat on each other, swap husbands, go through several men a night, and do it with strangers. That is another issue for another day). If one is going to be a sexual addict, shouldn't one at least do it safely?
After reading every last filthy story (WHAT?!! I WAS CURIOUS....LEAVE ME ALONE) I didn't know what to think. Shortly afterwards, I broke up with that stupid loser, and since I hadn't spent the entire gift certificate, I thrust it in an envelope with a letter outlining all the reasons I wanted to end it and put the entire thing in his mailbox.
Now I have these 3 magazines (they came in a set....WHAT?!) and I haven't thrown them out because... well, they are funny to look at and entertaining to read. But what if I drive home tonight and get in an accident? And friends come to clean out my possessions to send home to my parents. My good-girl image would be tarnished, and they would think I was a sex-fiend that liked to read and stare at porn. This can't be my family's last memories of me!
I should throw them out tonight.
I have some very dirty magazines at my house filled with fictional stories and pictures. I purchased them from an old boyfriend who thought a gift certificate to "Castle Boutique" would be the quintessential birthday gift. At the time, I thought it was a funny gift, if odd. I remember giving him a birthday hug and making one of those fake faces we all give when we over exaggerate our "thanks" for a gift we loathe. I wish now that I hadn't been so convincing.
Shortly after my birthday dinner, he drove us to the sex toy store to spend the certificate. Did I mention he gave me $50 worth? We looked around the store and all I could think to myself was how this gift was so terrible, and that we were spending my birthday in a goofy store. Any other day, fine- but my birthday? I couldn't see anything I NEEDED, so I purchased something I thought would be, at the very least, interesting.
Steamy Erotica.
Later, at home, I ripped away the cellophane wrapper and discovered pages of awkward looking black-and- white photos of men and women from the 70s in various poses and mullets. Fat women, skinny women, punk men, bearded men, hairy-chested men....all naked. I laughed my ass off.
The stories were inanely entertaining. Girl is the tour guide for a vacation tour bus, three guys are checking her out, they start touching her, she invites them for a lunch break snack on the bus while the others are out, she likes one of them in particular, and he does her in the back of the bus.
Highly unrealistic. What woman in her right mind would want to do it on a bus? Have you seen a tour bus? The seats usually fit only two people, and there would have to be all kinds of awkwardness involved.
The thing that bothers me the most, however, is that many of these sexually starved, nymphomaniac characters seem to be having sex all over the place (elevators, the back of a van, "downstairs with the taxi driver, while my husband is upstairs taking a shower," etc, and none of the authors seem it prudent to add a word or two about the characters using condoms. (Never mind that they cheat on each other, swap husbands, go through several men a night, and do it with strangers. That is another issue for another day). If one is going to be a sexual addict, shouldn't one at least do it safely?
After reading every last filthy story (WHAT?!! I WAS CURIOUS....LEAVE ME ALONE) I didn't know what to think. Shortly afterwards, I broke up with that stupid loser, and since I hadn't spent the entire gift certificate, I thrust it in an envelope with a letter outlining all the reasons I wanted to end it and put the entire thing in his mailbox.
Now I have these 3 magazines (they came in a set....WHAT?!) and I haven't thrown them out because... well, they are funny to look at and entertaining to read. But what if I drive home tonight and get in an accident? And friends come to clean out my possessions to send home to my parents. My good-girl image would be tarnished, and they would think I was a sex-fiend that liked to read and stare at porn. This can't be my family's last memories of me!
I should throw them out tonight.
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