Now, punching the Munchkin a few times a day is probably manageable for most of us, but since Ana needs to do it whenever the need arises, she had to sue her employer for the right to do it in the workplace, and she fucking won. Now she's fully authorized to look at porn on her computer and tickle the Sarlacc during work hours, presumably after drawing a curtain across the entrance to her cubicle.
Is it possible that you have the legal right to masturbate at work? There's only one way to find out. Well, there are presumably dozens of ways to start finding out, but they tend to all lead down the same road to your boss either saying "Keep up the good work" or "For cryin' out loud, Brody, everyone uses that water cooler!"
But seriously, don't try masturbating at work. You're going to get fired.
An Elderly Woman Teaches Masturbation Classes
They say those who can, do, and those who can't, teach. They also never anticipated a masturbation class when they said that, because it's some kind of bizarre logic landmine that blows up in a moist cloud of awkward feelings when you try to consider what that even means. So don't! Instead, know that there are actual masturbation classes out there, and not just the ones that reactionary douches on conservative news channels talk about when they find out second-graders get sex ed before saying things like "Our public schools are teaching eight-year-olds how to masturbate! And next up, ARE YOUR CATS SOCIALISTS?" These are honest-to-goodness classes in which ladies go to learn from another super friendly lady how to invest in personal pork bellies.
Not being much of a lady myself, and even less of a woman, I'm not 100 percent familiar with the logistics of female masturbation. I know where you go and how you get there, but it's a little trickier than it is for a man. Think of male masturbation like draft beer and female masturbation like a mojito. You just pull the tap for the beer and angle the glass right to cut down on the foam, but you have to muddle that damn mint for a while to get a proper mojito.
The classes are called workshops, because you're working that ham wallet like a stevedore working the docks, and they're group events led by one lady whom I assume is often described as a "free spirit," because she's leading a group masturbation workshop, and that's not something for the faint of heart or groin. Whilst researching this entry, I discovered the tale of a lady in her 80s who teaches one of these workshops. After she'd been to some swingers parties in the '70s, she noticed none of the women were having real orgasms, and consequently became the ultimate sexual humanitarian. Good for her.
A workshop consists of five grueling hours, the final hour of which I assume involves squatting in a washtub of ice and weeping a little. The rest of the time is literally complimenting the vagina of every woman in the class, going to town on yourself, and then a group massage. If I'm being honest, that sounds fantastic, but that's mainly because it's a room full of women. If the roles were reversed, I'd feel quite unhappy having several winded, sweaty men massaging me after they masturbated right next to me, but maybe I'm just not ready to enroll in this school.
You can watch Ian engage in everyday depravity on Twitter, and read his short fiction on his Tumblr page!
One place you definitely hope there's no workplace masturbation happening is Cinnabon. Try not to think about it too much as you enjoy this cinnamony goodness.
For more, check out The 4 Best Ways To Jerk Off (According To Science) and 6 Bizarre Ways to Stop Yourself From Masturbating.
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