So, you’ve decided to have sex. Please tell me what it’s like. But also, be wary! As it happens, not all sex can be as glamorous as what you’ve seen in Willem Dafoe movies. As it happens, sometimes sex doesn’t follow a script and then something all crazy has to happen that ruins everyone’s good time. Like what, you ask? Savvy reader, you are. Read on!
These stories pop up way more than you’d think, probably because journalists love it when death and sex cross paths, so why not report on it? There was a guy from Georgia who died of a heart attack in 2009 after having a threesome and his family successfully sued his doctor for $3 million because it was apparently his fault. He should have warned the man not to have threesomes. If my doctor said that to me I’d tell him to screw himself three times, but whatever. Point is, money.
Researchers at the University of Florence determined that a man is more likely to have a heart attack during sex with a mistress than with his wife, if that’s worth anything to you. If nothing else it shows there’s enough people having heart attacks during sex that you can analyze that data and find out who’s being humped to death by whom. And really, there aren’t a lot of worse ways to end a sexual encounter than with impromptu death.
Ahh, air. How can something so ubiquitous be so hilarious yet offputting? Of course your typical fart carries with it the potential to smell like the unwashed carcass of a thrice rotten bear, but there’s something about that special lady burp that really just shuts the whole machine down, isn’t there?
Science tells me such an expulsion is generally caused by air being forced into a small, tight space and then the laws of cosmic hilarity saying “be gone!” But for real though, it’s basically the sensual equivalent of a penis starting to dictate stereo instructions, it’s just weird.
A queef popping up during sex is like the mailman appearing in the window because he wanted to hand deliver a package. It just stuns you and weirds you out and you’re not sure what to do at first. Should you continue? You can. Should you panic? You might.
Oh homonyms, you so crazy. You could read this as either liquid coming from your eyes as a result of some kind of sadness or negative feelings, or as flesh ripping and either is pretty relevant to the topic. You don’t want anyone crying or ripping during sex because that is just awful.
Any time you cry during sex, the other person is immediately fearful for their own life because you just admitted without words that you are dangerously insane. The only way to sidestep this reality is if one of you is deadly ill and this is the last time you’ll ever have sex, in which case it’s still terribly depressing and not a sexual adventure you’re likely to high five anyone over.
On the other hand, if some flesh has been torn, you’re in a world of discomfort because you generally never want to mention it at first if you’ve rubbed something raw. It happens to the best of us. You’re jibbing and jabbing away, sometimes the pressure gets the best of you and you get a little rip and so everything feels kind of awesome then kind of terrible. And it goes back and forth like that until it becomes too much to bear and you’re mildly afraid that you may have severed an artery.
Our friends at Johns Hopkins (they’re not really our friends) conducted a study once suggested around 18 million men suffered from ED. One in 10 will be affected at some point in time. That’s a whole damn army of softy swords just flapping around all uselessly making a kind of fwappy sound.
There are, of course, plenty of drugs available if you know you may be hitting the boner wall, so to speak, but if it’s a first time thing or maybe you just saw grandma walk by the room naked or something, then you’re going to be confronted with a totally useless wanger and no one is ever happy to see that in the heat of the moment. Not that I’d know.
Despite the prevalence of needless Japanese blargh videos which want to convince you regurgitation is in some way attractive, those of us with souls never want to experience vomit anywhere near sexual activity. Now by and large if you’re feeling ill you’re not feeling sexy and this would never occur in the same place at the same time but alas, there are times when drunken foolishness gets the better of us and we think “woo! Boner fun!” and try to make the best of it after spending the night doing shots of tequila and Irish Cream. The result is a Technicolor shame spray that destroys sexy time and instead breeds rage-disgust, one of the rarest of all human emotions.
The 1-2-3 Kid
This may be the saddest one of all, which is saying something because a lot of those other ones are pretty depressing, but this one is often cloaked n sheer ignorance. Again, so I’m told. The sad fact is some guys think they’re sexual dynamos, like a Gary Busey of humping, if insanity was the standard by which we were comparing things here, thus making Busey a pretty reliable benchmark for awesomeness. Then, when it comes to sexing time, they sort of stutter at the cusp of ecstasy and fall asleep within a few minutes.
The scientific name for this is premature ejaculation, but the lady name for this is “what a loser,” because very few women, upon agreeing to sexual hijinks with you , will be amused to discover it’s over before you actually got your other sock off.