'In Search of Masturbatory Excellence'

'In Search of Masturbatory Excellence'

by Vanilla Christ

By the time this issue of Poo Poo Magazine hits the smarmy
shelves of its distributors, my girlfriend [Editor's note: His
NEW girlfriend, mind you...] will be in the midst of her
four-month-long Seattle vacation. In terms of sexual subsistence,
this leaves few options. For the duration, I could simply abstain
from being sexually stimulated or hungry whatsoever (fat chance
of that happening any time I'm still breathing), or I could loose
my throbbing Italian warhammer into random friends and strangers
alike, pretend nothing's going on when my girl and I chat on the
telephone and hope she never finds out (again - fat chance of
that happening, pallie!), or I could take this opportunity to
explore further the possibilities of self-love.

Masturbation is something you just have to face over and over
again throughout life. Sure, you could be one of those folks who
say, 'Nope, never done it. Masturbation? What's that?' regardless
of whether or not you're a lying, flying turd unable to come to
grips with your own genitals (pardon the pun), this simply will
not apply to you (and might I mention, you're probably a lame
fuck anyway, so you're not depriving anyone with four months of
abstinence). Four months, no sex. Sure, probably seems like no
big deal to you frigid, little virginal slobs who never get any
regardless, but for those of us who like sex, it's not an easy
thing. To be very honest, I find the loneliness factor to be more
the issue and not necessarily the sex portion. I went longer than
four months celibate when I was still living with a woman, so I
can deal with it and not lose my mind (and if I couldn't, I'd
simply be weak and spineless... even for a pervert sexaholic like
me). In any case, at times like these, you just gotta roll up
your sleeves and get your hands dirty, if you know what I mean.
Before we go into the details, let it be known that neither Poo
Poo Magazine, Purging Talon Publishing, nor any staff members of
the aforementioned pillars to society, will be held liable for
any personal injuries, lawsuits, neighborhood complaints,
excommunications, premature ejaculations, or even accidental
fatalities resulting from any mishap with your self-love
experience as addressed in this essay. We do not encourage the
inexperienced masturbator to involve themselves in activity which
may render them impotent, catatonic, or otherwise messed-up from
poorly-planned chicken-choking.

Before you commence your date with yourself, you should take many
things into consideration. First, there is the matter of safe
sex. Unless you have been with yourself exclusively for a good
number of years, it might not be a bad idea to exercise
precaution. Your moment of romance need not suffer or feel
'unnatural' if you ask yourself to put on a condom before it gets
too heated. After all - you don't know where you've been! You
might even go so far as abstaining altogether if you question
your own sexual history. Exercise caution if under the influence
of drugs or alcohol, as an un-alert partner might be dangerous to
your health. If you tell yourself 'It's OK, I'm on the pill,' you
just might be LYING, so use a condom anyway, as you'd probably
tell yourself ANYthing just to get laid. Furthermore, if you are
a member of the Catholic church, masturbation is a SIN, and
you'll go to HELL if you touch yourself in an impure manner. One
sure-fire way to overcome this obstacle is to marry your hand,
shower, nozzle, staircase, banister, blow-up doll, day-old eclair
or whatever you gratify yourself with. If married in the Catholic
church, you will be A-OK in the eyes of your god, and you can
wank yourself to a blistered oblivion without fear of a charred
and smoldering afterlife of agony.

Another point that I should touch onto before YOU touch onto: I
don't know what things are like in the state you live in, but
here in Vermont, the laws that be are so terribly liberal and
politically correct that you can barely say your own name without
someone calling you a racist, sexist, wife beater, or a 'typical
male.' (That last instance usually accompanied by a toss of the
hair and a 'hmpf!') If your state or town is like this, than
you'll need the expressed permission of your hand or your shower
nozzle or your Dustbuster before you can commence in fucking it.
I know it might feel stupid, but it's the law. Look down at your
hand and ask it for permission, each step of the way:

'Hello, hand. Might I compliment you on how lovely your
fingernails look this evening?'

'Hand, might I gently and lovingly caress your calluses?'

'Hand, may I squirt a healthy dollop of skin lotion into your
palm so that I may selfishly stimulate myself to orgasm like the
one-track-minded, chauvinistic, war-mongering, world-dominating
male that I am?' (and, yes, you do have to use those words. If
you do NOT downplay yourself for being a male [Ed. note: If you
are one], you will be arrested for forcible rape).

If your hand does not say 'Yes, you may' then you may not
masturbate. If your hand says nothing, and you masturbate anyway,
you will be arrested for forcible rape. This rule only counts for
men, of course, because if a woman breaks these rules no one is
going to arrest her anyway, and she'll be heralded as a
freedom-fighting role model for her gender. So, if you're a woman
and wish to masturbate, you don't need to ask permission of your
instrument of choice, simply tell it to shut up and fuck you. You
may even threaten bodily harm upon the item if it does NOT
comply, that is still legal of a woman in most states.

If you are found eligible after taking the above tests and
precautions, you may now proceed with your masturbation. If so
desired, you may simply go the direct route. Send all your
friends home, take the phone off the hook, lock the doors, click
on your white noise generator to discourage electronic
surveillance, turn on your camcorder (in case you decide to
prosecute at a later date, you can use it as evidence), and have
a lovely evening with your hand or your power-sander or your dead
cat. However, when concerning location, do NOT do this in a movie
theater in Miami, it will ruin your career just as sure as Cowboy
Curtis soaps his saddle sores. [Ed. note: Cowboy Curtis?] A few
minutes of dead-on whackety-whack and you're done. And the love
affair is over - no croissants in the morning, no exchange of
telephone numbers, no post-coital pleasantries of any sort.
That's fine and dandy for those who hold the importance of sex
just beneath that of getting up on time to catch Donahue on
television, and only slightly above the importance of farting
silently so as not to cause attention to your own gas. This is
OK; you don't have to like sex to masturbate, just the orgasm.
It's not necessary to wine and dine your hand, toilet plunger, or
empty beer bottle, though it might have its advantages. Take the
item of carnal desire to a movie, dress it up real sexy and
parade it around atop high-heeled shoes. Give it seductive
glances and whisper dirty things into its ear (or whatever it
might have that would pass for an ear). Take it home with you and
get it naked nice and slow, then instead of just outright fucking
it, why not give it a good tease here and there? Draw out the
passion, baby, and don't skimp on foreplay, either, you want your
object of lust well-satisfied, don't you?

Then comes the action itself... the deed, the hokey pokey, the
slap and tickle, the evil nun and naughty schoolboy, the whole
sh-bang... sex! What do you do? How will you be sure that your
evening will be a climactic sex-cess? I can't give too many ideas
for you, your own tastes and creativity are your own detail, and
only you can decide what's best for you. The object you use is
part of it, the way you use it is another. Try using two hands
instead of just one, and think about group sex, both hands and
both feet simultaneously would constitute an orgy, if that's your
bag. How about the shower nozzle while you play a tape of your
own voice talking dirty? You might even use a flashy accent on
the tape and pretend you're fucking an Arab prince or something.
There are no limits.

It's no substitute for the real live, breathing, interacting
thing, but then the real live thing isn't always readily
available (and even when it is available, it doesn't always want
to make itself 'available,' if you know what I mean). It's not
only OK to masturbate, it can be a work of performance art if you
do it just right. So if the boyfriend is out of town for an
extended leave, or if the girlfriend decides not to give you any
for several months at a time, self-love is better than no love.


On my way to goddom