The Scribbly One

I can’t stand it.

Back to Minishorts’s question: “Do you prefer him to be experienced or not experienced?”

More inanity:

• “Experienced lover, please. Truth be told, men don’t like women who do nothing but lie there like a dead fish.” ~Kenn

Newsflash - truth be told, women don’t like men who make gross generalisations, ridiculous assumptions, and buy into chauvinistic gender stereotypes. I don’t even want to know how this person has managed to translate “inexperienced woman” into “someone who lies there like a dead fish”. Frankly, I plan to be a full and enthusiastic participant when the time finally comes. After all, I’ve certainly waited long enough to satisfy my curiosity and try all the ideas I’ve only ever heard others talk about!
 

• “Breaking in a newbie is always tiresome.” ~NekoKensei

Arrogant and condescending statements like this lead me to believe I would prefer my husband to be inexperienced. Silly, you say? But then I’ll know he’s not approaching me with preconceived ideas he’s appropriated from encounters and involvements with other women. Neither will he approach love-making with the idea that he’s some kind of Don Juan or irresistible Adonis who’s now going to pay me the ultimate compliment by teaching this untutored virgin the pleasures of the flesh. And he won’t be constantly comparing me to his previous more skilful, adroit, practiced, experienced lovers inside his head.

Scene: An unfamiliar stretch of road

Characters:
1. The Scribbler - designated driver
2. Group of friends

The road was unfamiliar and had all along seemed one-way. Suddenly, flashes of light began approaching from the opposite direction…

…and I quickly veered back into the left-most lane.

“Scribbler! Be careful! I’m still young and I want to continue living much longer, you know!” screeched one friend.

“Don’t worry, me too! I haven’t even had sex yet!”

Minishorts asks, “Do you prefer him to be experienced or not experienced?”

One of her readers said, “I’m an innocent girl here. Really. So I’ll want an experienced dude. Or it’ll be a game of the ‘blind leading the blind’.”

My God. What kind of argument is this? One does not need to be experienced in order to be knowledgeable. Granted, if you’re not experienced, all you’ll have is theory, which can vastly differ from practice, but you still would be very far from ‘blind’. Besides, as another reader pointed out, “Experienced does not necessarily equal good - just cos someone’s been fucking a long time don’t mean they know how to fuck.” In other words, there is nothing to stop an experienced lover from also being an inconsiderate, selfish lover.

I am inexperienced but I sometimes feel like the most sexually aware and knowledgeable virgin on the planet. I have never even romantically held a man’s hand before, let alone been kissed. Difficult to believe, but true.

Too hilarious. Watch this. I did - three times! (Warning: mild sexual content)

Married couples. Whenever I see a lady with a man who is rather overly large and/or has, uh, a pronounced beer belly, I always wonder how on earth they manage to have sex. I get these mental pictures of him flattening her like a pancake or smothering all the breath out of her.

Of course, there are always other positions, but heck, I think most married couples still do the missionary. Not that I know anything about it, of course. I just find it hard to envision them excitedly experimenting. He, especially, looks too comfortable and self-satisfied to go out of his way to try anything out of the ordinary. It’s a gross generalisation based on his appearance, I know, but I can’t help it!

When I see couples allowing their children to sleep in the master bedroom with them, I also wonder how on earth they ever manage to have sex. I think I have sex on the brain.

I’ve decided that visual porn is boring. Nothing much ever happens; the characters simply keep on doing the same thing over and over again for ten straight minutes. I want to tell them to cut to the chase. Enough with all the “uh”s and “ah”s and “oh”s already. They sound like they’re constipated, in labour, or suffering from severe asthma.

This state of affairs should not surprise me, since I’ve always preferred reading to watching. I don’t have a “rule” about reading the book before seeing the movie adaptation, but generally much is lost when a story is on screen compared to when it’s on paper.

When I read, I get to see the whole scene in my mind’s eye, detail by detail. I get to delve into the hearts and minds of the characters and identify with what they feel, discover what they are thinking. I get to watch the interaction between the characters, pick up their little characteristic gestures and mannerisms, look for the nuances in each scene.

On screen, the viewer tends to miss much of that. Each frame lasts for only a split second, then is gone forever. There is no way the viewer will be able to capture and digest everything contained in that split second before things move relentlessly on. Besides, on screen you don’t get the benefit of being told specifics like, “he smiled snidely”. You have to figure out for yourself what kind of smile the character is flashing. And, since it all occurs so fast, even if you recognise a snide smile for what it is, you have no time to savour the implications of that smile. The things it hints at. What it might possibly mean for the other characters.

In a way, movies always seem to me the ultimate form of entertainment. Essentially, the viewer plonks him- or herself down in front of the screen and exclaims, “Entertain me!” There is no need to do anything else. Certainly no need for thought processes or flights of imagination.

While one might argue that there’s no need for a great deal of imagination anyway where porn is concerned, I still find porn movies extremely boring. Give me erotica instead any day.

I went to see my doctor today about a female problem, of which I shall decline to elaborate further, and she (my doctor) asked whether I had ever had sex before. I felt like a relic of the Stone Age when I had to say no.

My sexual drive is very much alive and kicking, thank you very much. It’s just that I’m one of those people who believes sex has to Mean Something. I mean, I can’t just fuck for the sake of fucking. I’m the stereotypical my-emotions-must-be-involved kind of girl.

I am also very paranoid that I’ll get screwed over (in more ways than one) by some low-life bastard creep who is masquerading as Mr Nice Guy in order to get into my pants. So for my own protection I’ve promised myself I will only ‘do it’ when I’m safely married. That way, if my husband turns out to be a low-life bastard creep who asqueraded as Mr Nice Guy in order to win my affections and my hand, I can nail his ass (as Catherine Zeta-Jones’ character so eloquently put it in Intolerable Cruelty). At least I’ll be able to take him to the cleaners and salvage something out of the whole mess.

Anyway because I am paranoid I have been experiencing great difficulties in locating genuine Mr Nice Guys to marry. Ergo, no sex. (Yet.)