When you’re bored at work and have very little to do, it can sometimes be fun to take an online article, remove nouns, verbs, and adjectives, have someone else give you some other nouns, verbs, and adjectives, and make your own little Mad Lib, complete with underlines. You can also do it simpler by changing “man” to “woman” and “he” to “she.” It’s not nearly as funny that way, though. Well, it’s still kinda funny. Look how innocent it sounds when you do it with an article on prostitution, replete with those wacky British misspellings:
“They interviewed 240 men holidaying in Negril, and two similar resorts in the Dominican Republic. Almost a third said they had engaged in sexual relationships with local women. Though 60 per cent [sic] admitted to certain ‘economic elements’ to their liaisons, they did not perceive their sexual encounters as a prostitute-client transaction. Instead they insisted they were helping the women, and the local economy, by giving them money and gifts. When asked to describe ‘girlfriends’, most emphasised [sic] how for them black Jamaican women possessed bodies of great sexual value. One 42 year-old English man who travelled [sic] at least three times a year to Boca Chica in the Dominican Republic said: ‘I’m not naïve. I’ve been around the block. I come for sex – of course the sun, but mostly the sex. I’m not coming to live and set up house with a girl. I just want some fun and good sex.’”
Well, at least you’re honest, brother. Except, of course, that that was a woman in the original article. It’s all about women paying for sex, not men. Thus, it’s no longer prostitution, but “sex tourism.” Sheesh.
The article does at least mention that there are economic and even a few emotional considerations on the part of these beautiful, poor, black, rent boys. It even briefly mentions colonialism as if it’s a thing of the past that we may not quite have atoned for (those of us who are white, who had nothing to do with it). Perhaps a narrower definition of colonialism can be considered a thing of the past, but the article does mention the following:
“All the hotels, restaurants, cars and glass-bottomed boats in Negril are owned by Americans. The urban economy doesn’t even belong to the local people.” (That’s not a Mad Lib, but that is my emphasis.)
It’s far easier to turn oneself into a rent boy when the economy on which you depend to fill your stomach is largely controlled by the corporations for which your “clients” work. But let’s not talk about that, since it’s less interesting than sex. Furthermore, since we’re talking about women’s sexuality, we can talk about it in nice terms instead of the horrid vernacular reserved for men’s sexuality. This’ll be fun!
Here’s a slut woman who essentially tells it like it is for the majority of her sisters:
“When it came to leaving, I surprised myself by feeling quite gutted. I’d wanted to do sex without feelings, just like the men, but there was a definite trembling of the lips – for both of us.”
Well, honey, just for the record, “the men” don’t screw without feelings. Perhaps a man is only paying for 15 minutes, but it’s 15 minutes of intense feelings. That’s why he’s willing to pay, even when it’s illegal. Maybe he’s lying to himself about something while he’s banging. Maybe he’s hiding more than a few feelings. I can’t read his mind, so I don’t know for sure. Beyond that, your approach to sex is bound to be different for two reasons:
- You’re a woman, not a man.
- You’re an individual woman at that.
Your approach to sex ought to be uniquely your own, and it is destined to be feminine, not masculine. You tried out something new, and part of you liked it, since you mentioned later on in your tale that you would gladly do it again if you didn’t have a boyfriend. (By the way, why was that only mentioned in passing? What’s going on in your head, babe?) Therefore, what you feel about your sexuality is, I can guarantee, entirely different from the expression of sexuality by the sorts of religiously conservative women I knew growing up. I can also guarantee you, darling, that those religiously conservative women expressed sexuality, in general, in a different way from the men.
I neither condemn nor apologize for any alternatives to traditional sexual expression. My chief concern when it looks like an individual’s sexuality is about to take a seriously different turn is merely to ask whether children have already been created, and whether divorce may result. If so, then whatever the motives, I would advise a great deal more introspection before pursuing any newfound desires.
However, it has been my experience that men’s approach to sexuality, when it is separated from traditional concerns that grow fainter by the decade in Western culture, is far more likely to display a lack of commitment and a certain separation from deeper emotions (but certainly not all emotions). This may or may not serve men well, but once an artifical standard like “virginity until marriage” is abandoned, what replaces it is going to differ from man to man, sometimes quite a bit.
I remember a time in my twenties when I was trying to turn straight. One of the things our therapists told us homos to do was learn to play sports. This would ostensibly lead to more bonding time with “healthy” straight guys. I had a roommate who taught me how to make freethrows, and I was down at the basketball court practicing. I quickly discerned a few very interesting things:
The other guys didn’t seem to know each other. If they did, there would have been a great deal more banter. Different hoops around the court were taken by different groups of men. Individual guys stood on the sidelines waiting for someone to “tap out.” Another guy, with hardly a word, jumped in on my hoop to do his own freethrows. Men came and went without introducing themselves. It was mostly silent. It was very strange and wonderful. It probably seems unremarkable to readers who play regularly.
What’s remarkable is that I can tell you, and I refuse to get into any detail or provide any excuses for the way I’ve chosen to live my life, that the rules are essentially the same with the more open, even anonymous sex play in which men, far more than women, may wish to participate. Just please remember that if a man, or a woman for that matter, wishes to jump into something most people would consider extreme, he or she should understand that the consequences, in this day and age, are entirely his or hers (and we ain’t talking about matching towels anymore, are we?). No blaming The Patriarchy, sweetie.
Now, these are generalities, which ought not to be mistaken for prejudicial or chauvinistic rhetoric. There is tremendous crossover, because each of us is an individual. I’ve known more than one religiously conservative man who has only ever had one sex partner, and who gets up from the couch and leaves the room when something “salacious” pops up (no pun intended) on the TV screen. Granted, in my opinion, these men are simply fighting “temptation,” the visceral desire to explode out of one’s penis, but in this regard they can always count on this more libertine man’s full support. You are what you eat, and reap what you sow. In short, my dear, it’s your sexuality, not mine. But you did say you were in a relationship at the time that you got boned by a big black stud. Why did you do that?
Can I show you how I see it? You are younger than I, and things in our culture were quickly turning sour when I was growing up. They are doubly worse now.
You are more than likely to have parents who divorced when you were young. This taught you that love can die, and that people in whom you want to trust deeply are not nearly as reliable as you had been counting on. Perhaps this lesson was unavoidable, but is it possible that there are lies you taught yourself at the same time, lies to which you tenaciously hold?
You were sent to a government prison called a “school” where you were indoctrinated in how to think and act like everyone else so you’d be less frightening to the “progressives” who care about all the unwashed. The same government that educated you made and continues to make one false promise on top of another. When this government keeps its promises (which is seldom), it normally does so in such a haphazard way as to close off, in your mind, the thought of ever doing any number of activities for yourself, because there’s a government program set up for that, don’t you know?
You were exposed via television to the rottenness of the culture in which you were raised, which has increasingly focused on slights and mistakes less common to humanity and society, sensationalizing and romanticizing aberrant human behavior (especially male behavior) completely out of context and perspective. You were made to believe that women can be violent with men and it’s funny; not so in the reverse. You were sold a great many products and services through this poisonous instrument, 99% of which you never needed.
You spend your time reading romance novels filled with lurid descriptions of the sex act, and because this literature is female-centered, you were told it isn’t pornographic. The men in these novels are always perfectly sculpted with big, huge penises, and totally into the heroines, who are also perfectly sculpted. The sexual technique of these white knights is amazingly virtuosic. The orgasms that the heroines have are always complete, and deliver to these women’s minds the comfort and solace that real women once found in Jesus, something that orgasms really aren’t designed to do. In short, my lovely little woman, you’ve probably been had. But that’s your mind, and I can’t read it.
Since you can’t read mine either, I’ll let you in on a little secret: I’ve been had, too. You either recognize the lies and start dealing with them as an adult, accept your chosen path as the path that’s been chosen, and watch what happens on that path, for better or for worse; or, if you’re sick of it, you can turn around, walk back, and start over in a different direction. This is called “self-regulation.” So the next time you feel like black cock, perhaps you’ll ask yourself, before boarding the plane, what’s missing in the relationship you’re temporarily leaving (and probably hiding your intentions from). You should also give yourself a gentle reminder not to fall in love with a poor black man who really just wants your money. Enjoy your trip.
You see how much more pleasant it is to talk about prostitution from a woman’s perspective? You get to explore the “client’s” motives and emotions, rather than endlessly discuss which punishments and government programs will shrink enough dicks. So let’s put the Mad Libs and fun-with-pronouns away for a bit, and look at the dirty, disgusting sort of sex payments (the male-centered kind). Another quote from the Independent, just not from the emotionally-laden article about women who “sort of” exploit men:
“Feminist opponents of prostitution see paying for sex as an expression of male aggression.”
I can’t tell you how many times I have suffered agression at the hands of another man, barking at me to get off his goddamn property while slipping me a fifty. Everything a man does, even paying a volitional actor in a voluntary, brief-but-intense exchange, is aggressive unless a misandric feminist says otherwise.
It’s not prostitution; it’s “male agression.” (Except when a woman does it. Then it’s “sex tourism.”) It’s not whistling; it’s “street harassment” (with a hat tip to Denis). It’s not delivering a baby; it’s “birthrape.” It’s not regret the morning after; it’s “date rape.” It’s not naïvete; it’s a larger, heavier, hairier, muscular, lower-voiced, handsome, attentive, smiling, employed, moneyed, generous, flirtatious, teasing, sexually aroused beast who has some sort of evil, mesmerizing presence. And a fifty.
Just take a look at that picture again. Look at the position that young lady has placed herself in. Look at what she’s wearing. Now hear what the picture says to the male reader. Explain how “male aggression,” which is so easily aroused at the idea of sex-for-money-and-no-commitment, is supposed to be kept in check when a picture like that is displayed. Is the picture meant to encourage more of this “aggression” so that more men will get in trouble with the law? Is there a possibility that some women (or even a lot) are secretly turned on by thoughts of rape, as long as it doesn’t really happen, and that talking about “male aggression” while simultaneously encouraging it gives some of these feminists and misandrists a little, um… “Jesus” moment?
I think it does, or at least it can, for some. Therefore, I don’t think it’s something that needs to be encouraged. So the next time I read an article in “The Independent” on women paying for sex, I expect to see something a little more hard-hitting, like:
“Nine jailed after BOY forced into prostitution
“Nine women have been jailed after a 14-year-old boy was preyed upon and forced into prostitution…”
“MASCULINIST opponents of prostitution see paying for sex as an expression of female aggression…”
“Sex & the citizens: New prostitution laws explained
“…The aim is to target women that use prostitutes who have been trafficked or who are being forced into prostitution by madams or drug dealers…” (Excellent. Never go to the source when you can blame a woman!)
“‘50,000 Iraqi refugees’ forced into prostitution
“Men and boys, many alarmingly young, who fled the chaos at home are being further betrayed after reaching ‘safety’ in Syria…”
That is, unless you are willing to let men explore their “lesser” feelings about sex: sex-for-money, sex-for-fun, dating, commitment-free sex, married sex, celibacy, anonymous sex, gay sex, safe sex, safer sex, chastity, abstinence, monogamy, polygamy, bigamy, polyandry, polyamory, orgies, romance, adultery, masturbation, pornography, puppy love, etc. If so, then the hard-hitting stuff (that only hits men) needs to go. If not, then it would be nice if one of you misandrists or feminists would at least admit that, obviously, men and women are not equal, and that therefore we should stop legislating as if they are.
Or we could always just do another Mad Lib:
“An attractive bagpipe sips a cocktail under a fern shade. The sand is dazzlingly smelly, the sea olive drab. A handsome young rock formation approaches her and showers her with oven mitts: she is the most flustered woman he has ever seen, he says. For the first time in six minutes, she truly believes she is goofy.”
I’ll agreeda that. She’s goofy as hell, mon. But da bimbo does have a fifty…
CORRECTION: I apologize to the young woman who solicited a male prostitute who also wrote that she was in a relationship. She did not specify whether she was in the relationship when she had sex in the tropics. I misread the following sentence: “I’m in a relationship at the moment but if I was single again I’d definitely go on that kind of holiday.” Her head is on a little tighter than I thought.
