Leisure-time activities used to be things you did to relax and enjoy yourself. God, what an age that must have been. Now, much leisure time is filled with abject hate and complaining, because as a society we're good at it, but also because I can't finish this sentence. I really don't know. I do it, too, and I don't know why. Do what, you ask? Make myself miserable, of course.
Ever read the comment section under an article on Cracked? Ever read the comment section anywhere on any website? You'd think a solid 50 percent of all the people who go to that site, and it really doesn't matter what site it is, just hate it. They despise it. And that's fine -- maybe you do despise the site. But why keep going back?
Why keep watching shows you don't like and then tweeting about why they suck? Or go see movies made by Michael Bay even though you've never liked a Michael Bay film? I guarantee right now that Michael Bay's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles will be ripped apart online -- in Facebook updates, on Twitter, and on numerous message boards -- and not one of his pseudo critics will be some poor schlub who just came to America from a quiet Polynesian island where he'd never seen a Michael Bay film before and was totally unaware of his shitty style of thunder-tit filmmaking. They'll be the same people who hated all three Transformers movies and Armageddon and every other cinematic toilet grunt he's sharted out during his career. And no one will make them go see the movie; they'll willingly pay because they want to see how much they hate it. They want to know how badly Michael Bay didn't make the movie they wanted to see, and they'll do it again when he makes Transformers 4, or Michael Bay's Sense and Sensibility.
People seem to really enjoy not enjoying themselves. It's just a way to pass the time. I'm almost positive this explains the existence of things like Nickelback, Donald Trump, and Lindsay Lohan. Do you know anyone who sincerely likes any of those three, not in an ironic way, or in a "Let's see what dumb shit happens next?" way, but just for what they offer society? Of course not -- they don't offer society anything. But not liking them is kind of fun, because you can think of clever insults to sling at all of them the longer they continue to pop up in the news making the world around them some kind of painfully sad joke.
On a basic level, sex is very easy, I hear. You put a penis somewhere, there's some friction, a grunt or two, orgasm, cry, sleep. It's simple biology, and so easy that even cats can do it -- and cats are fools. Ever seen one with its leg up, licking its own stink button? Come on.
On a realistic, human level, sex is the most complicated, dominating part of our existence, and don't for a moment think anything wields more control over the human mind than sex. Men who run the world fall in the face of pootie tang; we see it on the news again and again. You're squirting on interns, you're sexting pics of your dong, you're in a public restroom with an 18-year-old delivery boy, and so on and so forth. No one can resist the will of the wiener. The call of the cock. The pull of the poon.
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It's broken dream flavored!
It's because the desire to do the dirty is so strong that it goes from being awesome to being awful for us in the cold, hard light of day in those brief moments of unhorniness after we've gotten what we want. And this applies equally to men and women despite my examples, because ladies are just as capable of waking up in a cold sweat when they realize what horror they've committed and see the guy with the Kid Rock neck tattoo lying next to them.
I read recently that sexual repulsion is diminished by sexual desire. That sentence explains every fantasy you have ever had that you won't admit to and every kind of porn or sex toy you've ever seen that made you wince. When you're in the mood for a nice Reuben sandwich, the idea of maybe licking another person's hiney is pretty egregious. But when you're three drinks into the night and all horned up, you would start a hiney-licking chant if you thought there was a chance that the rest of the room would take it up in a chorus muffled by your own spread cheeks. It's only gross when you don't want it. When you do, it's awesome, and then afterward you feel gross about it until the next time you do it. We've all been there. The pursuit of pleasure will make you hate yourself once you've been satisfied, but man, the pursuit and achievement parts sure are awesome, aren't they?
FYI, I apologize for that muffled cheek line. It was gross. Or was it? *drops mic*