I suppose there is a notable contingent drooling over twentysomething chicks spreading their legs and pumping their hips like jack rabbits, but I just shake my head and think: stupid stupid stupid. This has nothing to do with human sexuality.
Sex can be good, medium or bad, but it's that elusive "great sex" for which we all pine. You'd think that with all the naked, shaved, spread-eagle sex sex sex online and in print, that "elusive" would no longer be an accurate modifier for "great sex," but of course, it is.
A couple of months ago, I posted about a movie called American Swing, which chronicles the sexiest time period this country ever saw. Back in the 1970's, women were basking in the new found freedom of The Pill and legal accessible abortion. Before that, they had to depend on a man fumbling with a condom in the dark, or a tube of spermicide and a diaphragm. If something went wrong and a woman was faced with an unwanted pregnancy, she was shunned along with her bastard child if she was unmarried, or she had to seek out an illegal and terrifying abortion. Sex truly could ruin your life. When women were finally freed, baby, they were freed.
Musing over American Swing makes me mournful for that unapologetic sexual euphoria. The Joy of Sex with the Girl Next Door has given way to cartoonish breast implants and all they imply, and it's only getting worse.
For starters, howzabout some genital dye for women who don't think they're quite pink enough? For more serious endeavors, welcome to the world of cosmetic gynecology.
Cute little boobies were great until someone started saying, don't you want those to be just a little bigger, sweetie? The beautiful and individual breasts are all but gone. Today, a starlet doesn't dare dream of the bright lights before bellying up to the silicone bar so she can look exactly like the one that came before her and the next one in line.
And now we're going to have a gold standard for vulvae. Well that's just great.
This site will give you an idea of how desperately women just want to be accepted. Visit the "Everyday Bodies Project" in the sidebar, although you won't be able to access the page and view the pix until you've create an account and joined the community. It's very intense, but real human experiences are like that. I wonder how many of the "Everyday Vulvas" would elicit an understanding nod from "cosmetic gynecologist" Dr. Hayes along with a subtle suggestion about "self-esteem" and "confidence;" and a discrete mention about a "simple procedure."
Those cooters look just fine the way they are, you goddamn butcher. Leave. Them. Alone.
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If you're out there, babygirl, please listen to me. You don't need any of this. You're beautiful the way you are. The road to the land of great sex is paved with desire, the sort that blooms from the inside out. You can only find it in the eyes of someone who completely enchants you and vice versa. It's magic, which is why it's so elusive and wonderful. You have it inside of you right now, I promise. There's a prince charming out there who will unlock it one day. Be on the lookout. His armor may not be shining. It may come by way of a rusty Chevy. And don't be surprised if his clothing is rough and his hands are dirty, but you'll know him when he makes the scene. In the meantime, don't listen to the bad guys. Don't let them kill the beauty inside of you.
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