Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, is punk night at the Risque Café at clark and sheffield. We’re gonna have good tunes, cheap cans of cheap beer, four dollar whiskey lemonades, dollar tacos and a chance to win the last couple of guest list spots to see against me! in the studio at JBTV on Saturday afternoon. Is that generous of me or what? Oh yeah. Let’s say, uh, tenish? Good deal. See you there. In the words of Will. I. Am. tonight’s gonna be a good night. Also in the words of Will. I. Am. “boomboompow” or something. Oh, and I’ll be there. There will be that. So yeah.
So, I don’t really get what happened to people who wind up worshiping feet. I’ve heard the stuff about being a kid and being under the bed and seeing your mom walking around and kind of associating her bare feet with nudity and things kind of spiraling from there, but is that really the deal? A quick google search reveals that approximately seventy nine percent of the internet is devoted to websites that feature feet and dongs in some sort of perverse dance, and I just can’t imagine that the percentage of guys who wound up under the bed associating feet with sex is really high enough to keep up with this kind of output.
Now, this is a common and pretty mild kink, right? Sure. It’s weird though, because I don’t ever hear about people who have fetishes for male feet. This could be because male feet are disgusting. In fact, I’d guess that probably sums it up right there. BUT, poo is disgusting and if my trips through german/Austrian sex shops have taught me anything, it’s that poo play is alive and well in the western world of porn consumption. So is the gigantic latex body stocking and gas mask situation and so is electrically stimulating your wiener. And that’s just the stuff I can think of off the top of my head. I mean, I’m not judging at all. Lord knows there’s lots of exciting ways to get excited. But man.
How does that kind of thing develop in someone? What’s the Freudian catalyst that leads to shit play or needing to wear a gasmask or wanting to watch an extremely old woman get gangbanged? It’s just gotta be complicated and while I know that it happens on a fairly regular basis, I’m so confounded as to what the possible series of events could be.
Let’s take shocking your wiener (or Estim [my understanding is that it’s short for ‘electric stimulation’] as it’s known in the world of kinks). How do you get there from here? What’s the gateway into shocking your penis for pleasure. Again, I’m not opposed to people doing it. I think it’s great. Yay for shocking the shit out of Wieners! But, uh…how did you figure out that you liked that? How did you try it first? How did your life experience lead you to the place where that notion sounds even remotely appealing?
Okay, I’m about to embark on an undoubtedly a shitty comparison that will liken Estim to depraved anti-social behavior, and I apologize in advance, but keep in mind that I’m just trying to find motive and not compare the acts per se…here we go: When someone first hears about smoking PCP, they tend to hear the stories about crazy inner city black dudes that are jacked up and freaking out and jump out windows and break their legs and keep running and the cops beat them or shoot them and nothing happens and it’s this crazy drug that makes you depraved and fucked up and when you finally see the dude on the news, he looks like he’s been wearing that tee shirt and gym shorts combo for about seventeen weeks (this was my first memory of hearing about PCP at least and I’ve seen several very similar newscasts since. Is PCP exclusively the domain of inner city black dudes in filthy tee shirts and gym shorts? Of course not. I knew a guy in highschool who had a crappy mustache and long, flowing hair who dusted his weed with PCP [he also dipped his joints in embalming fluid, this is called a ‘wicky stick’]. I’m sure there are people who own the very yachts that Lindsay Lohan can no longer go on because of her massive wastedness that are smoking PCP below the deck as we speak. But you never hear about wealthy industrialists smoking PCP on their yachts. It’s almost exclusively, if you believe the news, the drug that’s smoked by poor black guys right in those final moments before they’re beaten by the police…which is kind of my point here) and the result is, presumably, no matter what your life is like, no matter where you grew up or what you’re into, your thoughts regarding PCP, at least at first, are something along the lines of “man, that is a FUCKED UP drug. I don’t want to try that shit ever”.
But people do PCP. Today, a whole shit ton of people will try PCP for the first time and lots of them will probably like it and wind up using it again. How does that happen when the overwhelming common sense suggests that PCP is a ‘bad time’?
Here’s what happens: someone already does PCP and they do it in front of someone else, and they don’t have a ‘bad time’, and they don’t end up getting beaten by the cops or getting pulled naked from a dumpster and it’s a little demystified. AND since there’s SOMETHING wired into human brains that makes the idea of taking drugs interesting (or else the entire world wouldn’t do it. Yes, yes, you’re straight edge. Good for you. That’s excellent [and I mean that sincerely. Clean living is a good thing, folks]. BUT, if humanity didn’t have an inherent desire to get fucked up, being straight edge wouldn’t even be a label or something to consciously acknowledge. Right? You’d be like all the people out there who casually drink/smoke a little Angel dust here and there. You wouldn’t identify yourself as anything. Not clean, not a wastoid, just a regular joe/jane. Regardless, this isn’t the point), the person who was curious enough to be in the room while someone smoked their PCP decides that hey, maybe I should try PCP. Looks fun, and voila. There’s a new person using PCP. Pretty simple.
With shocking your dick for pleasure, though, it’s gotta be different. I mean, I get that maybe you’re somewhere and you’re gonna have sex and someone hooks a bunch of cables up to their balls or whatever and it seems like they love it and maybe they encourage you to try it, but I don’t see it playing out like the above PCP example for one or several kind of convoluted reasons, depending on how you think about things.
Namely: If you belive Freud, which I don’t know if I do, sexual proclivities stem from past experiences/early associations with pleasure and sex and I cannot imagine the situation where electricity is involved. What’s happening? Young Gary is holding the very cheap toaster that malfunctions, sending a small shock through him right as his mom gets out of the shower? He had a hot babysitter who flouted the laws of the Geneva convention and used to strap him down and shock him while she made out with her boyfriend? Nah. You know what? Fuck my very simplistic and probably totally wrong devolution into Freudian theory. How bout this:
Getting out a bunch of gear during sex is kind of a speed bump, right? And it’s not like it’s dildos or some nipple clamps or a butt plug or something that just comes out, looks like what it is and is either introduced or put back away. I mean, I don’t know what a dick shocker looks like, but I bet that it’s not intuitive when you see it that it’s a dick shocker. So, yeah, maybe you push through and you decide, sure, I’ll take a ride on the dick shocker and it’s great and you go buy one and you impress all your friends with the pleasures of the dick shocker (which, by the way, I’d like to posit, don’t sound like fun to me. I’ve been shocked on the arm and I hated that, so I don’t see why moving that sensation to my penis would suddenly make it awesome…but that’s just me, of course. There are people who like hammering nails into their dicks too…check out the documentary “sick” if you want to see that. AND, of course, like PCP, maybe it’s not at all like what it seems [not that I’ve ever tried PCP, mind you. That sounds about as fun to me as shocking your dick]) and it just kind of grows organically like that. But man, I still don’t get how you wind up with the first dick shocker in the first place.
I mean, I guess someone wanted pain, and there’s that whole thing with attaching car batteries to genitals in torture rooms and as we all know torture and sex are closely related (that’s not a snide joke. It’s really true. Both can involve restraint, helplessness, denial of needs and of course both can involve sex [which is a real bummer if you’re talking about torture, but then again, torture is one of those bummer subjects, innit? Always a bummer]) and maybe it started there, but I don’t know…it seems like a lot of shit to go through to get off.
Although, I guess that’s a lot of the appeal a lot of the time, isn’t it? Those crazy bondage knots that people tie or the skydiving and fucking or the crazy latex gasmask with the tube that goes straight to the other guy’s ass and stuff. That stuff is all complicated. I guess that’s in the appeal, huh?
Well, I wasted a lot of time and didn’t really figure anything out today. Every journey can’t end with throwing the ring into Mount Doom though, kids. Sometimes you just wander around and end up where you started, but more tired. I guess if I can leave you all with two things it’s these:
1. Stay away from PCP and
2. get out there and shock those gentials.
See you tonight.