Talk to Your Kids about Sex

7 Apr

My mother was a feminist. My single mother, which means, God bless her, that I was raised as a feminist.  It means my sex and relationship talks from her were about respecting women.  About not taking advantage of women, not hurting them, not raping them.  After my stepdad came into our lives I never discussed these things with him.  It took a few conversations with my father to sort out the one thing that I really and truly needed to know about sex, which is: you’re not a bad looking dude, and don’t worry, you can get laid.

He’d had a very different life than me.  I lost my virginity at seventeen; at that age he had been picked up for dealing heroin and given the choice of going to the clink or enlisting in the marines at the height of Vietnam.  He told me stories like “one time I beat up this black guy so bad that I was checking the papers the next day to make sure I hadn’t killed him.”  He had a tough, colorful life.  I was on scholarship to a prep school where they had not one but two competing a capella groups that in any sensible community would have had the shit kicked out of them on a daily basis.  I was going to a school where they flew in math geniuses from China and all the girls wore docksiders and no makeup and were second cousins with Winston Churchill and if they ever saw a penis they would explode.  The occasional accidental erection of their horse was the only stiff penis they had ever seen, and they had absolutely no curiosity about expanding their knowledge.  A rich new England WASP girl is basically born elderly, in terms of her sexuality.  This is why she has time to focus on things like perfecting her application essay to intern at the U.N.  When I started at this fancy school, it was immediately clear that none of these girls would ever show even the remotest interest in me; they barely showed interest in boys at all.  

But still, I got talks about respecting women.  I was assiduous about respecting them, when I couldn’t even get them to notice me or my fucking respect.

But my Dad– I had always assumed that, you know, the tradeoff to being the kind of person who might go to jail at seventeen is, you get to be the kind of person who’s around girls who will fuck you when you’re fourteen. But no, he told me- I used to worry about girls all the time, you know. It took a while before I got laid a little bit by accident and I started to realize: hey, I’m not a bad lookin dude.  I could do all right.  Same shit will happen with you.

This was precisely what I needed to hear.  When you are in a desert of female interest you begin to think you are a hideous unfuckable mutant and will remain a virgin forever. You are not thinking about how to hurt, break the heart of, or rape a woman.  You are thinking about the problem of even getting a woman to notice you.   You can’t even get into a situation where you are alone in a room with a woman and rape or heartbreak might occur.

So instead of how to respect women and blah blah blah, what you should be telling your teenage son is how to get laid.  Failing that: don’t worry, you eventually will get laid. Because every ounce of hate, disrespect, every piece of abuse that has come out of me toward women has sprung from the fact that I was either desperate to get laid, or frustrated that I had not been able to get laid.

Further, you should have two separate health classes, two separate sex eds.  Right now sex ed is coed and is just a fancy way of saying “don’t fuck.” Most places can’t say “God will make you blind if you jack off” anymore; they can’t say that sexuality is wrong.  But they can give you the impression that there’s a huge chance that you’ll get HIV through heterosexual sex, or that common infections like HPV are likely to have meaningful consequences.  They can tell you: when to have sex is your choice, but remember that herpes HIV pregnancy etc., and so you better use a condom.  You better use this awkward chemical-smelling medical torture device that that will make it impossible to feel where your dick is going, that will make it so you are not in fact touching the other person– we can make sex something scary, pleasureless and unnatural with this thing that you now have to wear because some gay guys in 1982 got a disease in a San Francisco bathhouse that you are never going to get.

When to have sex is your choice, but you should be aware of the dangers– see, go ahead and tell this to the girls’ class.  Tell the girls not to fuck, that it’s scary, that guys will fuck you and not call you– tell them all these things; there are real consequences for them.  It is their choice when to have sex and they should be aware of the dangers.

But for Christ’s fucking sake– it is certainly NOT a teenage boy’s choice when to have sex; if it were, they would have all done it with their very first boner. The dangers are meaningless and not particularly germane to them to begin with; pulling out works; you’re not going to get an STD; condoms are horrible, they completely ruin sex– if they didn’t do you think people would have to push them so hard?  Every girl on the planet has an abortion and while it’s going to fuck with the money you were saving for an Xbox it does not ruin them as human beings; they get over it.  Who you lose your virginity to is meaningless, it is not something special for you– it is a smear on you, visible to all, that needs to be purged as soon as possible.  Fuck the fat chick. Fuck the school slut.  Fuck your cousin.  Do whatever it takes to get rid of your virginity as soon as possible.  Because the struggle to  get laid in the future very much hinges on it not being a big deal for you.  The idea of being your first and providing you with a special life-changing experience and etc. is like a fucking horror movie for a girl.  Girls want to get laid with guys who are already getting laid and don’t give a shit. Better to throw your virginity away, to not put any weight on the experience– to get it into your head that a fuck is just a fuck.  That’s the only way you won’t scare girls away with your unmanly nebbishiness.

When I have a son, that is the talk I’m going to have.  Better, I’m going to take him to a hooker when he’s thirteen.  To show him that a fuck is just a fuck, so that the fucking obsession isn’t hanging destructively over his head for his whole life.  It burns you, having these early formative years with no girls giving a shit about you.  It makes you hate women for the rest of your life.  It makes you pissed off every time you see a couple holding hands on the street– that fucking cunt, of course she’s dating a guy in a band.  It fucking ruins you. You end up treating women terribly because of this burning hate you carry around, a hate that comes from self-hate, from unworthiness to women.  Seeing them as just a piece of pussy, and what’s more a piece of pussy that is attainable, is, ironically, the only way you’re ever going to treat women like human beings.

10 Responses to “Talk to Your Kids about Sex”

  1. Anonymous April 8, 2012 at 9:19 am #

    spectacular post. great blog.

  2. Amateur Africans April 23, 2012 at 12:18 pm #

    I labored the tip of my index finger down the hood of my overgrown clitoris until I found the inner part of me, the supple purple flesh between the sea of black, untamed, me-soaked post-pubescent pubic hairs. I figured that with a tickle of my 2nd finger and a fast flicking of my tortured clit I could produce ecstasies which i in no way recognized existed. As I neared after which rode soaring more than my climactic encounter, I was a changed woman.

    • sylviasarah June 25, 2012 at 1:19 am #

      :( I don’t know why but I was not expecting that link…

  3. pffffffftttsssssssiimmbllllllddddddnnnnnnnnn June 30, 2012 at 7:42 am #

    I think I posted about this on another article, my uncle served in Vietnam, and although he was a loose cannon to begin with, that shit pushed him a little farther out there, to where he can only function on the fringes of society. First when he came back he became a hippy, then he kind of reverted back to the old Marine Corps hoo-ra bullshit. And it fucking all rubbed off on my cousin (his son), because he joined and wound up in Iraq (against my uncles wishes, ironically), and, I mean, what the fuck do you expect when you take him to the shooting range at 13 to fire your fucking korean war-vintage “collectible” rifles, and you let him watch Full Metal Jacket until he can recite the whole movie verbatim.

    Of course he’s gonna join. So he wasn’t doing shit with his life before he joined, now he’s back and not doing shit with his life and all and he’s all depressed, BUT, he fucking fought in a pointless war based on bullshit lies, and for what? You go through some shit like that, the government should cut you a check for, like, 10 million dollars. If you go over there and lose a limb or something, they should be making sure that you live like a fucking king for the rest of your life. But, no, because we don’t really give a fuck about our troops. Just look where the fuck they come from – the lowest of lower classes in America. They get some shit healthcare at the VA, and god forbid you get killed over there, because they’ll dump your body in a fucking landfill, and just tell your family you’re in the closed casket.

    Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what the fucking point of this comment is. Drank too much
    coffee this morning. Ahhh, fuck it – already typed it out.

    • DeCode December 12, 2012 at 2:34 pm #

      what the hell are you ranting about? and you have obviously never served in the military, nor understand it. i don’t know what issues you have, but please, stop ranting about your uncle and cousin and get on with your own life.

  4. Ac1114a January 8, 2014 at 9:21 pm #

    “Every girl on the planet has an abortion and while it’s going to fuck with the money you were saving for an Xbox it does not ruin them as human beings; they get over it.”

    Many do. But the unborn, nascent human with unique DNA never gets over it.

  5. Anonymous February 10, 2014 at 11:01 pm #

    yeah man, you were lucky. it took me till the age of 27 to figure out that i wasn’t hideously ugly and that the reason i couldn’t get laid was because of something other than my looks. what a huge reality crushing moment.

  6. Anonymous February 10, 2014 at 11:08 pm #

    i mean,

    my dad didn’t tell me anything. really not anything and i was too dumb to figure shit out by myself. just kept thinking hey i’m a ‘nice guy’ but chicks don’t like me coz i’m so fugly. it was a woman who turned it around, in fact. looked at me one night, after i made a self deprecating comment, with that look in her eye and said ‘don’t you know what you look like?’

    as it turns out – I’m not a bad lookin dude, i can get laid.

    but jesus that was a shock to the system

  7. SingleNaught April 30, 2014 at 3:48 am #

    Ahhhh… Mr. DT has discovered and revealed the source of all Misogyny. Funny thing – 99% of women have no idea about this. Wonder if they actually get it even after reading it here.
    DT – your fans keep referring to Bukowski as your influencer or past life, but it’s pretty clear you are the reincarnation of Henry Miller. He wrote with such ferocious honesty and in a voice and style I didn’t think was possible, let alone could ever be legal. (And of course, for a decade or two, it wasn’t legal to sell Miller’s work in the states.)
    I managed to mostly miss the misogyny building stage myself – mostly only because there weren’t many, if any, unrequited loves or lusts in the HS years. Though while in grade school, I desired a next door neighbor so strongly it made me insane and very confused. And, because of found porn, I knew what I wanted to do to her, but because of insanely deep levels of Catholic and other sex and body shame, I literally thought that if I were caught having sex with this ultimate object of my desire, I would have to suffer the death penalty as a result. Either externally, or by my own hand. Can one imagine that?
    In college – at one of the top universities in the world, I can remember only being attracted to two women in five years. No luck with them, but they were never single, so the rejection was only partial.
    Your essays about the shallow pool that OKC is are actually depressing to me. Of course, I should not be on OKC and I should simply be dedicating myself to doing great things and letting great women find me because of these great things I do. But the fates have so entirely let me down over the first half of my life that I no longer trust them at all. Plus, in another five to ten years, I’ll be outside the attraction range of fertile women.
    So, what to do. I think the only real option is to create a better OKC filter, or a better OKC – one where the person’s pictures, and their questions and their writing is all graded – maybe peer reviewed, and they are sorted into classes. I would so kill for OKC to automatically find the outliers for me – to find the women who use unique keywords, or write in extremely creative and intelligent ways. And I’d so kill for OKC to tell me her secrets – does she read full profiles – does she reply only to intelligently written profiles, or sexy pics. Does she want tall, rich men of a certain eye color, or is she slightly more evolved than that.
    How the hell do we pull this off? Because OKC clearly doesn’t give a rats ass anymore about improving their system. They are on autopilot. Any hackers out there want to help me build a -meta- dating system that is based on a customized browser that can link and greatly enhance the major sites and fix this mess? Something that works so damn well even worthy women are drawn in? Dare we dream that big?

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  1. Progress | delicioustacos - April 11, 2013

    […] it steered her into a feminist phase. This was when I was about fifteen, so I would get a lot of talks about respect women don’t ever rape a woman, etc. And of course it all meant nothing. I […]

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