Tag Archives: human sexuality

What “Big Mouth” Gets Right (And Wrong) About Puberty

When you’re a platform that has created shows like “House of Cards” and “BoJack Horseman,” the bar for quality is higher than most. That’s the benefit/burden of being successful. Say what you will about how Netflix has evolved over the years, it has produced some amazing content in an age that some call the third golden age of TV.

Then, there are shows like “Big Mouth.” I’m not saying that Netflix is lowering the bar for the sake of balance, but I’m still struggling to make sense of this show. When I heard about it, especially with comedian Nick Kroll attached to it, I hoped I had found another show to pass the time in between seasons of “BoJack Horseman.” I’m won’t say I was disappointed, but I do feel like I took the quality of Netflix content for granted.

I’m not going to say that “Big Mouth” is a bad show, but I won’t make excuses for it. It’s the kind of show that goes out of its way to be crude for all the wrong reasons and not in the traditions of “South Park” either. It doesn’t go for the cheap laugh or even the mid-priced laugh. It’s a show that just goes out of its way to sensationalize teenagers going through puberty.

On paper, it sounds like a great concept. Going through puberty is wrought with all sorts of craziness, some funny and some embarrassing as hell. I’ve shared some on this blog, including a story about the most awkward boner I’ve ever gotten.

Big Mouth” tries to extract humor from similarly awkward situations. It takes a lot of swings and it misses a lot of pitches, but it does manage to hit a few balls here and there. Yes, I also mean that in a literal sense. This show does resort to that kind of humor.

It may not be the kind of high-concept insight you get from an episode of “Rick and Morty,” but it does at least try to send a message about the horrors of puberty. Even if the product is crude and exceedingly exaggerated, that message is relevant, so much so that it’s worth talking about.

I honestly didn’t expect to write about “Big Mouth” in any capacity, especially when writing about sexy memories from my college years is so much more interesting. However, after gritting my teeth and watching the show, I feel the horrors of puberty are worth talking about, especially with ideas about toxic masculinity being so prevalent lately.

Big Mouth” doesn’t attempt to wade too deeply into those kinds of issues. It’s too crude and too crass a show to even attempt that kind of commentary. However, it does do a good job at showing just how powerful and, at times, overwhelming that flood of hormones can be to a young person. For some, it’s downright traumatic.

Throughout the show, the main characters, Nick Birch, Andrew, Glouberman, and Jessi Glaser, are often hounded by literal manifestations of a monster that personifies their hormones. It’s never clear whether the monster is invisible or not, but this creature basically says everything the FCC won’t allow teenagers to say out loud.

For the boys, the monster is named Maurice and his advice usually amounts to things like, “Go ahead and jerk off!” or “Look at her tits!” or “Too bad, buddy! You’re getting a boner!” I’m not going to lie. That monster kind of triggered some awkward moments from my teenage years where I found myself thinking thoughts too crude, even for my novels.

The girls aren’t spared from that awkwardness either. There’s another hormone monster every bit as crude, but reserved for female characters. Her name is Connie and she embodies all the alpha bitch, hyper-feminine extremes that Sam Kinison ever joked about. She’s emotional, dramatic, and demands that every female character be confused or overwhelmed by her body. That’s basically puberty in a nutshell.

In a sense, “Big Mouth” is unique in its balanced approach to showing how boys and girls both struggle to endure puberty. That’s rare in most coming of age stories that either focus on horny guys trying to get laid or bitchy girls trying to get popular. This show doesn’t give a pass to either gender.

This is what “Big Mouth” actually gets right about puberty, to some extent. It’s not just overwhelming and frustrating for one gender. The male experience is unique. They have to deal with constant erections and that annoying voice in their head urging them to think dirty thoughts about anything that even looks like a beautiful women.

Since I’m a man who has more than his share of bad memories from my awkward teen years, that’s a sentiment I can appreciate. However, it’s the female perspective in “Big Mouth” that I found most intriguing. The idea that girls are just as freaked out about the changes in their bodies, minds, and everything in between shouldn’t be such a novel concept, but this show goes out of its way to belabor it.

Now, I don’t know for sure that the girls I went to high school with had an actual hormone monster on their shoulder, telling them to cry irrationally at a moment’s notice or lash out at anyone who dared to look at them the wrong way. It’s just somewhat refreshing to think that teen awkwardness knows no gender.

If gender balance is a strength in “Big Mouth,” though, it’s biggest weakness is portraying how the characters deal with it. The show is so over-the-top with the extremes of puberty that it’s hard to glean a meaningful story from it all.

It’s not just that puberty takes the form of actual hormone monsters that sound like uncensored commentary from a bad porno. It’s not that the show makes puberty sound overly traumatic either. There’s never a sense that the characters, even Jessi and Nick, actually grow through the experience. That’s kind of a big oversight with puberty.

From a purely biological standpoint, puberty is the maturation of a child into adulthood. That maturation part is never even hinted at in the show. After watching the first season of “Big Mouth,” it’s hard to imagine any of the characters involved growing into functioning adults.

In the real world, puberty tends to bring out the best or worst in a person. If someone starts becoming an asshole in puberty, they usually stay that way into adulthood. If someone shows an ability to deal with it and grow, as a person, then they’re usually in good shape. It can even get pretty hilarious when both kinds of people have to deal with one another. Unfortunately, we don’t get that with “Big Mouth.”

I won’t go so far as to say the show is terrible. It does have its moments and some of those moments are genuinely funny or insightful. It is, as the end of the day, an overly comedic take on the rigors of puberty. It doesn’t try to be coy or deceptive. It doesn’t try to use colorful metaphors involving flowers or cucumbers. It gets right down the dirty, gritty details.

I can see the show appealing to those who suffered more during puberty than most. I can even see the show appealing to “South Park” and “Family Guy” fans. It’s hardly a guide or a warning with respect to the rigors of puberty, but it reflects a common truth. Being a teenager sucks and puberty is a big reason why.

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Filed under gender issues, Marriage and Relationships

In Memory Of Hugh Hefner And The Sex Positivity He Inspired

On September 28, 2017 the world lost a true champion of all things sexy. Hugh Hefner, the founder of Playboy and a sexual pioneer who helped loosened the panties of an uptight world, is dead at 91. Everyone from strippers to gigolos to sluts to studs to aspiring erotica/romance writers are all in a state of mourning.

Playboy may not be as prominent or taboo as it used to be, especially in the era of internet porn, but it’s impossible to overstate its influence on the sexual landscape we see today. Compared to where it was and the world Hefner grew up in, what he accomplished is almost as impressive as the number of hot blondes he slept with.

My generation, the latte-loving, overly-sensitive, debt ridden millennials, will likely never appreciate Hefner. As I write this, there are probably a few young people out there just shrugging their shoulders, surprised that Hefner hadn’t died years ago. I hope they’ll take a moment to appreciate how Hefner changed the culture around them. Without him, they might think being horny is a symptom of a brain tumor.

There’s a lot I can say about Henfer, but the outpouring of celebrities and former Playboy Playmates has already said it much better than I ever could. I’ll even admit that I probably still have some old back-issues of Playboy magazine gathering dust in my closet. I might just open them up again, if only to pay tribute to the man who dared to think that sex could be a positive thing.

That, more than anything, including hot blondes and working in pajamas, should be part of Hefner’s greatest legacies. It’s a legacy that allows aspiring erotica/romance writers like me to believe that it is possible to craft hot, sexy stories that will titillate others for all the right reasons. Sex, be it an erotica novel or a nude centerfold, can be a good thing.

Considering that Hugh Hefner grew up in a conservative, Methodist family, it’s pretty remarkable/ironic that he became the visionary for a sexual revolution that went beyond the free-loving hippie movement that burned out. He lived long enough to see the rise of hippies, the decline of pubic hair and the porno mustache, and the mainstreaming of internet porn. The man saw a lot, but lived a lot too.

Between the sexy parties he threw at the famous Playboy Mansion to the careers he launched, including sexy icons like Marilyn Monroe and Pamela Anderson, Hef lived a life that embodied an ideal. Like a superhero for the horny, he dared to make a man’s sexual fantasy a reality. Whether you’re disgusted or envious of that life, there’s no denying that Hef liked to enjoy himself.

He lived that life knowing that there would always be a certain contingent of angry, uptight prudes who see anything sexy or fun as a ghastly affront to all things good and decent. These people, be they religious conservatives or humorless politically correct asshats, will never be able to say they lived as interesting a life as Hefner. They’ll also never be able to undo the sex-positive movement that he helped inspire.

When I talk about sex-positivity, I’m not just referring to the counterpoints to those who favor the sexual morality espoused by celibate priests or certain female superheroes who embody that spirit. I’m referring to a mindset and a cultural attitude that sees sexuality as something healthy, positive, and good.

That’s something society needed back in Hef’s day where anything that didn’t match the sitcoms of the day was considered deviant. That’s something we need today when certain segments of society seem to be getting more sexually uptight. That’s something our species needs, as a whole, if only our evolutionary inclinations to survive and reproduce.

Sex and how society treats sexuality had a long, sordid history of taboos, trends, and panics that can lead to some pretty disturbing attitudes, as John Harvey Kellogg demonstrated.  It will likely continue to be controversial, whether it’s overly sexy ads or advances in sex toys. What Hugh Hefner did was focus on the positives of sex, showing just how beautiful and fun they could be.

I don’t doubt that, over the course of the next few weeks, there will be people claiming that Hefner deserves no praise. They’ll blame him for advocating a hedonistic lifestyle, denigrating women, promoting toxic masculinity, and making baby Jesus cry. These people are entitled to their opinions, but not to any credibility. If they prefer to live in an unsexy world enforced by Vatican decrees, that’s their business.

That doesn’t change the fact that Hugh Hefner made the world a sexier place. He made it okay to admire the beauty of the female body. People forget that it wasn’t that long ago that the female form was looked upon with disgust. Some parts of the world still do. Some are even trying to regress us back to a periods where the sight of a sexy woman provokes outrage.

Those efforts are destined to fail in the long run because Hugh Hefner, as outrageous a lifestyle he lived, understood the power of sexuality and the inherent desire to celebrate its beauty. Our desires, lusts, and passions aren’t going away anytime soon, no matter how much the religious or politically correct asshats whine about it.

Moreover, Hefner understood how to convey those sex-positive attitudes in a way that shattered taboos and overpowered the shame that those same asshats had used for centuries. It’s telling when famous models like Kendra Wilkinson will come out and praise Hefner for giving women a chance to celebrate their beauty and become stars in their own right.

“A lot of women, so many women, thousands of women are so appreciative of Hef,” the Playboy model, 32, exclusively told Us Weekly in May 2016. “They are so happy that Hef gave them their chance and became who they are because of him.”

There will still be radical feminists and celibate religious officials who cry immorality or oppression. It doesn’t make the sentiments of those who knew and loved Hef less sincere. The man lived life to an extent that exceeds the wildest fantasies of the horniest men. For that, he deserves respect and praise. He will be missed dearly.

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Using Sex Robots (As Therapy)

It feels like I joke about sex robots every chance I get on this blog. In my defense, this is a blog that sells sexy stories, promotes steamy romance, and dares to imagine a future with bionic genitalia. Make no mistake, though. sex robots are a serious issue.

Sure, they’re easy to make light of when they still look like over-sized blow-up dolls with tits, but they are steadily becoming more advanced. They’re already entering the sex industry, albeit in a limited capacity. There are actual companies working on them, as we speak, and for good reason. The demand for sex is like the demand for water. It’s a market that can always be counted on and one Amazon hasn’t monopolized yet.

I’ve talked a bit about how sex robots might impact us, but I always assume that impact will be far greater than anything an aspiring erotica/romance writer can imagine. Hell, I doubt even movies can imagine it, although some like “Ex Machina” make a concerted effort.

I intend to keep discussing the breadth of that impact on this blog in all sorts of ways, including those that’ll make people horny as hell and others that’ll make people more uncomfortable than a vegan at a butcher shop. In any case, it’s worth belaboring both the upheavals and the opportunities that functional sex robots will present.

Sure, there will always be truly deranged people who will become more deranged by presence and use of sex robots. Those people are always a minority, though. Like Charles Manson, they’re the disturbing exceptions that make the news, but not the norm.

Beyond the extremes, though, there’s another aspect of sex robots that I think warrants discussion and one that actually builds on other issues I’ve brought up on this blog, primarily those involving the challenges most people face in forging a healthy sex life in the modern era. If the failure of celebrity couples are any indication, then those challenges are more daunting than we think.

To illustrate the extent of those issues, take a moment to think about the number of people you know who have sought therapy or counseling in some form. Chances are you know more than one. I certainly do. Hell, I challenge anyone to find someone who doesn’t know anyone who has sought therapy.

According to the American Psychological Association, approximately half of American households had someone who’d sought therapy in some form or another. That data was gathered in 2004, though, and pointed out that some couldn’t even seek therapy, due to a lack of insurance. That’s a lot of therapy and a lot of people who need it that aren’t getting it.

Now, take a moment to consider how much of that therapy involved someone’s sex life. While I doubt it applied to every case, I imagine there’s a significant portion of psychological issues that are tied to sex. The fact that sexual dysfunction is so prevalent leads me to believe that more than a few psychological issues are at work here.

Hell, it’s practically part of our popular culture. Watch any sitcom, any movie that doesn’t involve talking animals, or any novel that involves a Biff Tannen/Regina George knock-off and you’ll see it. A man or a woman has an unsatisfying, frustrating, or non-existent sex life. It is the source of a lot of problems, plots, jokes, gags, and obstacles.

Enter the intelligent, interactive, fully-functional sex robot. What does that do to therapy and the reasons we seek it? I’m not just asking that because I want you to picture a world full of advanced sex robots that look and function like Jenna Jameson and Channing Tatum on crack. Granted, I always want people thinking those kinds of sexy thoughts on this blog, but I want people to keep their panties on and look at the bigger picture.

Think, for a moment, how much stress and frustration most people experience when dealing with their sexual desires. It doesn’t matter that it’s the 21st century, internet porn is everywhere, and women are legally allowed to have sex that doesn’t involve making babies. People who aren’t celebrities, supermodels, or as attractive as either struggle to satisfy those desires.

It can and does take a psychological and physical toll on people. If the documented health benefits of orgasms are any indication, then nature wants us to have plenty of sex. Not getting it is like denying the body and mind key nutrients. Without it, there will be issues that go beyond bad moods and morning wood.

At the moment, it’s not easy for a lot of people to explore their sexuality and actually engage in meaningful sexual exchanges. Between uptight religious attitudes, rampant slut shaming, and woefully unequal gender dynamics, finding an adequate sexual outlet is not like going to the grocery store to buy some snacks when you’re hungry. It also comes with all sorts of risks, including disease, pregnancy, and toxic relationships.

The sheer breadth of this difficulty is a major driving force behind the sexual frustrations of many men and women, alike. It’s hard enough just articulating those desires, even to a therapist that is legally obligated to never tell another living soul about your clown fetish. Actually exploring those feelings and achieving some level of sexual gratification is more difficult.

Sex robots don’t just change that situation. They don’t just rewrite the rules of the sexual playbook. They throw the playbook out, shoot the people who wrote it, and use their notes as toilet paper. Sex robots are destined to upend the sex industry and already are in some parts of the world. The impact they’ll have on therapy, though, may be just as great, if not underrated.

Picture a scenario, if you can, of a young man or women going into a therapist’s office in the not-so-distant future. In that future, sex robots are a mature technology in the sense that robots are nearly indistinguishable from humans. They look, feel, and sound real. They have a measure of intelligence, but it’s not much greater than that of the virtual assistants we already use today.

Knowing this, the therapist sits the man or woman down and talks to them. They find out quickly that this person is dealing with depression, anxiety, stress, and loneliness on a level that’s beyond that of most people. As part of the treatment, the therapist provides them with a specially-programmed sex robot. It’s here where the implications become both daunting and seamy.

Unlike the traditional sex robots that ordinary horny people use, or the sex bots you see in an “Austin Powers” movies, these sex robots are programmed with a specific purpose. They’re not just there to give their patients a good orgasm. They can get that from porn or sex toys. The sex robot, in this case, will have a more intimate function.

First, they’re molded to look like someone that the patient feels strong sexual attraction for. That may require some kinky tweaks, especially for those who have crushes on Jennifer Lawrence. However, that’s both doable and kind of necessary. There are already sex dolls molded after porn stars. That same process can be applied to sex robots.

Second, the robot is programmed with a specific personality profile that takes into account the patient’s mental issues. It won’t be enough to just get them off. They’ll need to create an emotional bond with them so that they can help them cope with those issues.

Maybe that involves a sex robots that’s a kinky, assertive dominatrix to help someone with authority issues. Maybe it’s a sex robot that’s meek and submissive to help someone with poor self-esteem. Maybe it’s a sex robot that’s just extra-durable to help someone who’s a real nymphomaniac. There are many ways a sex robot can help people is what I’m saying.

That process may not always include kinky sex. The sex robot may just be programmed to provide some sort of emotional intimacy that the person lacks or can’t find with another person. They could even be programmed to satisfy those who suffer from physical deformities, paralysis, or chronic disease. Thanks to these robots, everyone can have a physically and emotionally satisfying sexual experienced.

The possibilities are limited only by the extent to which a sex robot can be programmed for a specific purpose. Given how good we are at customizing our phones, cars, and even weapons, it’s very likely that we’ll do the same with sex robots for therapeutic and non-therapeutic use.

On the therapy side, though, those possibilities have the greatest implications. It’s one thing for normal, healthy people to enjoy regular, satisfying sex with a robot. It’s quite another when people who would otherwise be crippled or hindered by mental illness are suddenly able to function again and achieve some measure of happiness.

Think, for a moment, what that means for society. It elevates sex robots beyond a mere novelty or kink. Suddenly, they become a means to treat people who never would’ve gotten treatment otherwise. In addition, those who’ve lost loved ones, become ill, or just can’t attract those cute cheerleader types that gets their blood flowing can enjoy intimate, satisfying experiences.

In terms of quality of life, it’s a huge boost. In terms of how we approach our sex lives and sexuality, in general, that’s a bit harder to quantify, even for a mind as lurid as mine. Having a society where everyone, man and woman alike, is sexually satisfied is kind of unprecedented.

It’s really hard to know just how such a society functions or even if it can function. Throughout history, our species has struggled to channel and manage our sex drive. The extent to which we have so many sexual taboos and asinine double standards just proves that the struggle is still ongoing.

Modern medicine, contraception, and even the mainstreaming of the porn industry has helped make sex less dirty, to some extent. We still have a long way to go before full sexual satisfaction is achievable to everyone, not just the beautiful, the popular, and the mentally healthy.

Sex robots could very well be the most critical tool society creates in helping people achieve a level of emotional, physical, and mental satisfaction. In a world where everyone is that satisfied, how will we conduct ourselves? How will we interact with each other? It’s impossible to say, but if writing sexy novels has taught me anything, it’s that few things are more therapeutic than a satisfying sex life.

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Filed under Marriage and Relationships, sex robots, Sexy Future

Breaking Down The Breakup Between Anna Faris And Chris Pratt

The life of a celebrity compared to the life of a non-celebrity couldn’t be more different without involving aliens, unicorns, and pet monkeys. That’s also a major reason why we’re so fascinated by celebrity culture. Say what you will about the crazy headlines of the glorified toilet paper known as tabloids. They still get our attention and, as I’ve pointed out before, that’s the most valuable currency in our economy.

As such, a high-profile celebrity couple breaking up is a big deal. From a celebrity culture and deranged tabloid perspective, it’s like crack mixed with meth mixed with heroin. It’s as addictive as it is debilitating. It crushes whatever fairy tale narrative we had playing out in our collective psyches and making us question whether love is truly real.

Now, I don’t doubt the allure of celebrity romances. These are people with a lot money and power at their fingertips. These are people who could ask a random stranger to smear pudding on their chest and have a hungry loin lick it up and they’ll do it with a smile.

They have every conceivable resource to make their relationships the sort of thing that Disney movies are built on. How is it that they keep failing? That’s not just a perception thing either. In terms of raw numbers, celebrity marriages fail at nearly twice the rate of non-celebrity marriages. With all that money and power, how is that even possible?

Well, last week we were reminded that no matter how many fairy tales fever dreams a celebrity romance may inspire, it can still fail. The latest involves Chris Pratt and Anna Faris, one of Hollywood’s highest profile celebrity couples. After an eight-year marriage, they’ve announced that they’re legally separating.

Even I admit, this one caught me by surprise. I’ve been a fan of Chris Pratt since his day as the chubby dork, Andy Dwyer, on “Parks and Recreation.” I’ve also had a soft spot for Anna Faris since her colorful performance in the horror spoof, “Scary Movie.” The fact that those two got together and stayed married for nearly a decade was just a nice bonus.

However, much like the end of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, the high-profile nature of the marriage always made it subject to scrutiny. Most recently, there had been rumors that Pratt had cheated on Faris with Jennifer Lawrence, his co-star in their movie, “Passengers.”

I tend not to give much weight to such rumors, even when Jennifer Lawrence is involved. That hasn’t stopped some people from blaming Ms. Lawrence for the breakup, but that’s to be expected. Brad Pitt had been subject to similar rumors before his breakup with Angelina Jolie.

In general, it’s fairly safe to assume that, unless there’s high-definition sex tape, those rumors are only partially true at most. Since nobody other than Pratt and Faris know the full story behind their breakup, I’m not going to assume that cheating or infidelity was involved. According to Pratt’s own statement, the breakup was mutual.

“Anna and I are sad to announce we are legally separating. We tried hard for a long time, and we’re really disappointed. Our son has two parents who love him very much and for his sake we want to keep this situation as private as possible moving forward.”

For now, I’m going to take Mr. Pratt at is word, but assume there were other dynamics at work that neither he nor Faris care to share with an unforgiving public. I’m not even going to speculate on what those dynamics can be. Instead, I’m going to step back and look at the bigger picture here. If nothing else, I’d like to give think fans of both Pratt and Faris, as well as fans of any celebrity couple, a sense of perspective.

Much of that perspective boils down to one inescapable truth. Celebrities live crazy lives, work crazy jobs, and deal with crazy stresses that no ordinary person can hope to understand, let alone deal with. The fact that any celebrity romance succeeds in the long run is nothing short of a miracle.

These are not people with normal or even semi-normal experiences. These are people doing things few people can do, achieving success that most people never achieve, and struggling to manage it all without going insane. So whenever a celebrity does have a very public breakdown, of sorts, it really shouldn’t surprise anyone.

On top of that, celebrities often work jobs that keep them busy for insane hours and requires them to spend a good chunk of their time traveling. Even if they have their own private jet and a support staff who effectively manages every minor detail of their lives, right down to the brand of toilet paper they buy, they’re still always busy. In a sense, being a celebrity is as close to a full-time job as anyone can have.

How can you make a relationship work in those circumstances? That’s not a rhetorical question. That’s an ongoing issue that many celebrities struggle to solve. Pratt and Faris thought they had the answer. I’m sure Pitt and Jolie felt the same way. In the end, they were wrong. It’s tragic, but it shows just how hard it is to answer that question.

That’s not to say it’s impossible. Some celebrity couples find a way to make it work. They are, however, the exceptions and not the norms. Realistically speaking, the circumstances of a celebrity romance are a checklist of how not to structure a relationship. For the sake of context, here are just some of them.

  • Working extended periods in a high-stress, fast-paced environment
  • Managing large numbers of people and resources
  • Traveling frequently and having little time to spend at home or with loved ones
  • Doing physically demanding, often exhausting work
  • Being surrounded by extremely attractive people with a strong incentive to seduce others
  • Being subject to constant scrutiny and micromanaging
  • Constantly entering unfamiliar situations and dealing with unfamiliar people
  • Occasionally having to get naked and/or intimate with strangers

Just dealing with a few of these issues is stressful enough on any relationship. That’s why occupations like bartender, massage therapist, or police officer have a markedly high divorce rate. With celebrities, though, the challenges are even greater because it’s not just one or two issues. It all of them.

At the end of the day, no matter what Tom Cruise may think, we’re all human. We all have human brains that are stuck with caveman settings. Those brains aren’t equipped to deal with the rigors of a celebrity life. Hell, it’s barely equipped to handle our current ideals of romance.

Chris Pratt and Anna Faris had the odds stacked against them from the beginning. They clearly loved each other. They made that abundantly clear in their announcement. However, their brains have the same limits as ours. Those brains compel us to form the kinds of intimate, close connections that are easily strained by stressful jobs, constant travel, and an excess of beautiful people willing to sleep with you.

Most relationships, in general, struggle to function in those conditions, as evidenced by the non-celebrity divorce rate. Pratt and Faris tried to beat those odds, on top of all the forces working against them, and did a lot better than most. Just ask anyone Taylor Swift ever dated.

At the end of the day, though, the mechanics of a celebrity romance are just too daunting, even for those who genuinely love each other. It’s part of why people root for celebrity romances . The idea that two people can overcome those daunting obstacles nourishes our ideals about love and marriage. When that fails, it hits those ideals pretty hard, as evidenced by the Twitter reaction to the Pratt/Faris breakup.

While it is disappointing, especially for a relationship that seemed more healthy than most, it still shouldn’t be surprising. We, the non-celebrities of the world, can’t forget that people like Chris Pratt and Anna Faris live such crazy lives that are wholly unconducive to our romantic ideals.

Some of that is our fault. Some of that is the fault of biology with the way our brains are wired. Even so, it shouldn’t destroy our concept of love. If nothing else, it should remind us that making a relationship work is hard, but the fact that celebrities try as hard as they do is proof that the work is worth it.

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Filed under Celebrities and Celebrity Culture, Jack Fisher's Insights

Why Nice Guys DON’T Finish Last (Or First)

We’ve all heard it before. It’s the primary plot of nearly every teen movie ever made. It’s the secondary plot of every underdog movie ever made. It’s also the title of a classic Green Day song. Say it out loud in almost any context that isn’t on the set of a porno and most will agree.

Nice Guys Finish Last

When we look at the world through our irrational, caveman brains and glean our information primarily from movies, sitcoms, and Fox News, that certainly seems to be the case. It’s almost obvious that we live in a world nice guys solely exist to act as toilet paper to the Biff Tannens, Bernie Madoffs, and Kanye Wests of the world.

In a sense, it’s comforting. Being a nice guy means you’ll carry the spirit of a lovable loser and who doesn’t love a lovable loser? Sure, Cleveland Browns fans would probably beg to differ, but it’s that very mindset that makes us content with the status of nice guys and gives us an excuse to scrutinize the concept through the harsh lens of reality.

As I’ve made clear before, I don’t care for excuses that don’t involve donuts, comic books, or nudity. That’s not to say I have anything against nice guys. I too consider myself a nice guy. You won’t find me punching a small animal just to impress a couple of cute cheerleaders. There are far more honorable and pragmatic ways for that sort of thing.

Instead, I’m going to add a little bit of context to the whole concept of nice guy finishing last. I’ve already highlighted how being a nice guy is a laughably low standard with which to base your appeal as a person. Most of the people on this planet are nice. The only reason you know about the assholes more is because they’re the ones that end up with TV shows and professional trolls.

So even if there are mostly nice people in this world, does that mean they finish last? Well, to answer that, it helps to build a story around the context. I could try to cite studies that show that just being likable tends to get you more opportunities in life, but that’s not very sexy. Nobody comes to this blog for scientific studies that don’t involve sex robots. They come here for sexy stories.

With that in mind, here’s the story that every nice guy should learn before they hit puberty:

You walk into a casino with all your life savings and you have to gamble it all of it on just one game.

In some of those games, the risk is high and the reward is high in the short term, but that reward naturally decreases no matter how much you win at other games.

In some of those games, the risk is very low, but for each dollar you don’t bet, you end up losing twice as much in the long run.

Then, there’s this one game in the middle of it all where if you bet on it, you probably won’t win big, but you won’t lose either. The odds are stacked in such a way where that over time, your money increases. It’s slow and tedious, but it does go up. It’s just a matter of patience and playing the odds, which are objectively on your side.

With all this in mind, which game do you play?

If you’re a smart gambler in any sense and don’t have any self-destructive tendencies, then the choice you make in this story is fairly clear. You end up playing the third game because that’s the only game that, in the long run, will increase your life savings.

That third game is basically what it means to be a nice guy. It is akin to investing in an index fund in the stock market. Ask nearly any financial guru, including Warren Buffet, and they’ll say the same. An index fund is the safest, most effective investment anyone can make. It won’t beat the market, but you won’t lose to it. Just not losing to the market is enough to make a lot of money in the long run.

Being a nice guy is one of the best investments you can make in yourself because, on the whole, it increases your value as a person and as a functioning member of society. In general, people want to deal with nice people. People want to work with them. Some even want to have sex with them. It is, by far, the easiest and most effective way to get ahead in the long term.

The main problem is the payoff sometimes takes a while. There is also some element of luck involved, but not in the Vegas odds sort of sense. For those willing to take more risks, being a nice guy just isn’t enough. Being a nice guy just takes too damn long.

That’s how you end up with the professional trolls I’ve mentioned before. These are people who are gambling that being an asshole will help them stand out. It’ll help them get attention, which they understand on some levels is a valuable asset.

That attention may be negative. In fact, it often is negative. Being an asshole in a world of nice people helps you stand out. It makes you different, exciting, and charismatic to some degree. However, all that is a quick short-term gain. In the same way these crazy things get people’s attention, those same people will just as easily get bored or frustrated with it. As I’ve said before, there is a lot of power in boredom.

That’s why a lot of those arrogant, Biff Tannen jocks from high school end up pumping gas, digging ditches, or getting shanked in prison. Being an asshole, in the long run, decreases your value because it hinders your ability to form social connections. Without those connections, there’s going to be nobody to help you up when you fall flat on your face.

That’s not to say that being an asshole doesn’t pay off big for some people. Alex Jones, Milo Yiannopoulos, and most successful YouTube stars are proof of that. They do finish ahead of the nice guys. However, they are the exceptions and not the norms.

Most of the assholes are so far behind the nice guys that they have no hopes of ever catching up. Some just quit the race entirely and cede their rank to the nice guys because they know too many people hate them to hope for a break. It can be somewhat tragic, but it does benefit the nice guys.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, you have the overly careful type people who despise both the nice guys and the assholes. I knew people like this in high school. I was almost one of them. These are people who are so bleak in their outlook on life that they don’t bother being nice or mean. They’re just a walking ball of gloomy nihilism.

Other than grunge rock and Marilyn Manson, you don’t see too many instances of this paying off in the long run. Even if you’re not an asshole who kicks small puppies for fun, people will still avoid you if you’re a pain to be around. If every hour of your day involves whining about how terrible and awful everything is, then nobody will want to work with you, help you, or sleep with you.

As a result, the nice guys beat those gloomy goths with ease. They finish ahead because, and it’s worth emphasizing, people prefer to work with those who are likable. They will help, befriend, and have sex with those who are nice to be around. Again, it won’t happen all at once. It will take time, but in the end it will pay off.

So in a sense, Green Day got it wrong. Nice guy’s don’t finish last. However, they don’t finish first either. Given how few of those who try to finish first ever make it, your best bet is to just make sure you don’t finish last. In that sense, being a nice guy is the safest bet you’ll ever make that doesn’t involve jello shots.

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Awkward Boners And Another (Overly) Personal Story

Brace yourselves because I’m about to get personal on this blog again. Yes, it’s going to be the awkward kind of personal. Yes, it’s also the sexy kind of personal. No, it’s not that kind of sexy. I still save the bulk of that for my novels.

I think it’s important to get personal when building an audience. It helps us relate to one another. I can’t just be some faceless guy behind a computer screen trying to sell sexy stories. I need to be someone with which people can feel a personal connection. That connection is the difference between a passing audience and a loyal one. The sexy stories I sell, as a result, are just a nice bonus.

Now, I’ve already gotten pretty personal on this blog before. I’ve talked about my love of sleeping naked, my own circumcision, and the soul-crushing, four-year prison sentence that was high school. I hope those stories have endear my life and this blog to people. I’d like to deepen that endearment and I intend to do that by talking about awkward boners.

I’m sure I’ve got every man’s attention now. I’ll still give a moment for the women to stop rolling their eyes. I get it, ladies. Awkward boners are one of those things that men make too big a deal of. Yes, it’s a unique experience to a particular gender, but it’s not even in the same hemisphere as giving birth or breast feeding. I’m not going to equate awkward boners with that, but I do feel they’re worth talking about, if only because it’s funny.

In fact, I think it’s because we don’t talk about these gender-specific experiences that men and women have such a hard time relating to one another. For some, talking about the joys of birth is a bit too much. I think awkward boners are a good start, if only because they reveals a vulnerability in men that they don’t readily admit.

This brings me to my personal experience. Yes, it’s about an awkward boner situation that I endured. I admit it. I’m a healthy man who has had at least one awkward boner in his life. Any healthy man who doesn’t admit that is a goddamn liar. While I doubt I’ll start a trend, I can at least tell a story that should brighten everyone’s morning.

This particular story happens in middle school, which is sort of like the sub-par prequel to high school. It’s like a mild soreness that you don’t realize will one day become a stabbing pain in the pit of your soul. I won’t say it was awful, but there were definitely signs that being a teenager was going to suck on a lot of levels.

This was also before I developed a serious acne problem that utterly destroyed what little confidence I had. I like to think that during middle school, I was at least somewhat content. I won’t say I was as happy as a fly in a shit factory, but I wasn’t miserable. For the most part, life was okay.

At the same time, however, puberty was starting to kick my ass, as it does with most people when they enter those fragile years between being a kid and being a walking time bomb of hormones. As a result, unexpected and unwelcome erections were becoming more common.

For the most part, I was able to hide those erections as well as any burgeoning young man. Talk to any man who survived that part of his life and they’ll tell you the same. They learned to be tactful, discreet, and downright cunning at hiding their boners. You might say that men at this age become boner ninjas, which is a lot less sexy than it sounds.

Every now and then, though, our boner ninja fails. In this particular instance, it failed at one of the worst possible times, short of me giving a speech to the entire school while wearing a speedo. I’ll give everyone a moment to conjure that mental image. You’re welcome.

On this particular day when my inner boner ninja failed me, I was in the seventh grade. It was late in the spring and really starting to get hot outside. As such, gym class involved a lot more outdoor activities that turned us from hormonal time bombs into sweaty hormonal time bombs. I didn’t mind this because it made the afternoon go by faster.

However, my body just loved making it harder for me and yes, that means exactly what you think it means. I’d just finished my English class. Gym was the last class I had before I went to lunch so I went to the locker room eager to work up an appetite. I go to change into my gym uniform, as I’d done almost every day to that point. Then, it happens.

I don’t know whether it was the poetry assignment I’d had in English class. I don’t know whether it was because of some cute girl I’d seen who just started wearing a bra. Maybe I’d just read one too many Wonder Woman comics that day. I don’t know, but whatever it was, something triggered an unexpected launch in my pants. It wasn’t a half-launch either. This rocket was going into orbit and staying there for a while.

Now, keep in mind, I’m in a boy’s locker room in a middle school full of immature teenagers. You can’t find a time or place less appropriate without involving clowns, dead puppies, and buckets of expired milk. On top of that, I’m up against the clock. I needed to be out in the gym with the rest of the class within five minutes. For a situation like this, that’s the longest five minutes you’ll have outside a dentist’s office.

I don’t even get a chance to undress before the situation escalates. By the time I get to my locker, we’re already at ignition. By the time I unlock it, we’re at liftoff and we’ve cleared the tower. There are several obnoxious boys next to me, talking about crap that should arouse absolutely no one. All I can do is keep my head down and silently curse my dick for doing this to me.

I know my body well enough at this point to understand that this situation is going to get worse before it gets better. If I start undressing, there’s no way I’m going to hide this. For a moment, I just stand there and stare at my uniform in my locker. At that point, though, my rocket is well into its orbit and re-entry is not possible.

I needed to act and act fast. I had only four minutes left and that was just not going to cut it. Finally, I made a decision. It was going to require some theatrics on my part, but there was no other way.

Tactfully, I grab my uniform from my locker. Then, I clench my stomach as though I’m in pain and head right for the bathroom stalls. From where I’m standing, those bathroom stalls might as well be in the heart of Mordor. Instead of Orcs, though, I have to weave through a bunch of spitting, swearing teenage boys. It was an arduous journey, to say the least.

At one point, a kid next to me that I knew looked concerned. He asked me if I was already. I instinctively said I was fine, but my stomach wasn’t. I might have said something about the tacos I ate for dinner last night, hoping he would fill in the blanks.

That seemed to do the trick, though. He didn’t ask again. I managed to work my way around the crowd of other boys and make it into the bathroom stall. In my first stroke of luck, there was nobody in there. I was able to close the door, lock it, and breathe the biggest sigh of relief I’d felt to that point in my life.

After I was alone in the stall, I was able to settle down and let my penis complete its orbit, so to speak. It still took a lot longer than I wanted. I remember thinking about anything and everything that would get it to settle.

If you’re a healthy man, you know what I’m talking about here. You’ll go through any number of unsexy thoughts and images. You’ll picture your grandmother in a nightgown. You’ll picture your dog throwing up on your bed. You’ll even resort to doing algebra in your head. When algebra is an option, you know your body is working against you.

For me, I don’t quite remember what I thought about to subdue my erection. It still didn’t work as quickly as I’d hoped. I still had somewhat of a quasi-boner by the time I got undressed and put my uniform on. I was still up against the clock too. By the time the warning bell rang, I had to grit my teeth and hope for the best.

I managed to put the rest of my stuff in my locker and make it out into the gym. I still had somewhat of a tent in my pants. Keep in mind, these gym shorts aren’t exactly known for being well-fitted. I had to be very careful with how I carried myself, especially as the girls started making their way out of the locker room. It also helped that the gym uniforms weren’t exactly sexy. Even raging teenage hormones can only do so much.

Once I sat down and waited for the gym teacher, I was able to finally able to complete re-entry, so to speak. In another stroke of luck, the teacher was a bit late so I had a few extra minutes to make sure no more rockets were ignited. It still made for some tense moments, but I got through it.

That, my friends, is the story of my most awkward boner. I’m sure there are other men out there who have had far worse experiences in far less comfortable situations. It is, in a sense, the shared price of masculinity. No one is immune to it. We never know when it’s going to happen. When it does, we learn that we aren’t always in control of our bodies. Sometimes, our bodies control us.

There’s almost something poetic about that. I’m sure plenty of men disagree and just see awkward boners as an annoyance. Well now, you’ve heard my story. If there are any men out there feeling bold, I encourage you to share yours as well. Please let me know in the comments. There’s no shame or judgment. For men and women alike, let’s share this experience and everything it can teach us.

Perhaps I can make this part of my sexy discussions. Boners can be awkward, but they can be beautiful too. Let’s not let that awkwardness undermine that beauty.

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Professor Marston & The Wonder Women Trailer (A Non-Traditional Love Story)

When we look back on 2017, I think it’s safe to say that many will see it as the year that Wonder Woman shined and the year that the “mic drop” officially became overused.

There’s no doubt about it. This has been a damn good year for Wonder Woman. Her movie was a hit with critics and fans alike. Her comic raised the bar for female heroes while also letting her get laid. She’s on a winning streak right now that we don’t usually see unless the New York Yankees and the New England Patriots are involved.

However, 2017 isn’t done with Wonder Woman just yet. It’s not enough that her movie may have single-handedly saved the DC Extended Universe, established Gal Gadot as an A-list actress with A-list sex appeal, and raised the bar for female directors like Patty Jenkins. Wonder Woman, being the iconic female hero that she is, just has to go the extra distance.

That brings me back to the man who created this sexy female icon, William Marston. In a sense, Wonder Woman is one of those characters that could never have emerged from a traditional mind looking to create a traditional hero. For her to become the icon she is now, she needed an unconventional mind and William Marston was definitely that.

I’ve talked a bit about the origins of Wonder Woman and the not-so-secret BDSM elements within that origin. A lot of that is a direct result of the non-traditional thinking that William Marston used in creating Wonder Woman. It was also the product of a very non-traditional life, some of which had some very kinky connotations.

The story behind that kinky life is now about to get some overdue attention and at the best possible time. Wonder Woman’s star couldn’t be flying higher. Why shouldn’t the man behind the sexy icon get a little attention? It’s 2017. Kink is already mainstream, thanks to internet porn and best selling novels based on Twilight fan fiction. The timing couldn’t be better.

That leads me to the upcoming quasi-biopic on William Marston, “Professor Marston & The Wonder Women.” Admit it. You probably didn’t know that a movie like this was being made. Even ardent Wonder Woman fans probably didn’t know.

It’s happening, though. This is not some weird fan film or parody to poke fun at Wonder Woman’s BDSM origins. This is a real movie starring Luke EvansRebecca Hall, and JJ Feild. It’s even being directed by a woman, Angela Robinson, who was a writer/producer on the sexy bloody spectacle that was “True Blood.” This movie is coming out later this year and last week, the trailer dropped.

It’s a very different trailer compared to “Wonder Woman.” It’s supposed to be different. It might not have as many warrior women. It might not have a naked Chris Pine. However, it does have some sexy, but kinky connotations.

Unlike Stan Lee, Bob Kane, or Jack Kirby, who are icons in their own right for the characters they created, William Marston kind of gets forgotten. Granted, he didn’t create nearly as many iconic characters as Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. However, it was his non-traditional views and the non-traditional life he lived that might have made it easier for people to dissociate the man from his creation.

As the trailer shows, Marston was an unusual voice at a time in history before the modern feminist movement and before the sexual revolution. He believed in peace through submission, seeing submission as an act of love. He also believed that women were more honest than men in certain situations. He never said they were superior, but he made it a point to highlight female strengths, as often revealed in Wonder Woman.

On top of those unusually progressive views at a time when women were still seen as nurses, teachers, and baby-makers, Marston had a non-traditional view of love. He was married to Elizabeth Holloway Marston, but theirs was a somewhat open marriage in that he also had a relationship with a woman named Olive Byrne.

It was not at all akin to the kinds of open relationships that make for raunchy TV shows about Mormons or the kinky softcore porn series that used to play on premium cable. It was a real relationship and, as the trailer showed, it was very different in terms of substance and approach. In a sense, you can say that Marston had a non-traditional relationship to match his non-traditional views.

Even today, his views on men, women, and the ways they relate to one another would be odd. Chances are, he would evoke protests from the overly politically correct crowd. That probably wouldn’t dissuade him, though. If anything, those protests would prove a part of the point he was trying to make, which was reflected somewhat in the trailer.

He claimed that there was peace and happiness to be found in submission. To the ardent individualist, which is very much at the heart of western culture, that sounds abhorrent. That sounds like something slave-masters would say to keep their slaves content, which was a thing, sadly. However, that’s not the kind of submission Marston was talking about.

In Marston’s kinky world, to submit to someone willingly is an act of love and to accept that submission with love is the apex of human connection. He sees the endless struggle to dominate everything around you, be it a person, a job, a pet, or World of Warcraft, as the source of conflict.

He also labels that kind of dominating persona as a very masculine trait. While it’s not exclusively masculine, he sees it as a common thread among male-driven narratives. Conversely, he sees women as having a greater capacity for that kind of loving submission. Wonder Woman is, in his point of view, embodies the greatest capacity for that kind of love.

Wonder Woman loves and embraces everyone around her. Her capacity for love, regardless of gender, is well-documented over her 70-year history. Sure, the kink has been largely filtered out with a few notable exceptions, namely “Wonder Woman: Earth One.” That only makes the elements Marston used in creating her all the more profound.

In some ways, William Marston was ahead of his time in creating a female hero that emphasized what he saw as female traits. He never tried to make Wonder Woman as strong or as capable in the same way as Superman or Batman. She wasn’t supposed to prove that women could be as strong as men. Just being a woman gave her a unique strength all her own.

You could also say he was ahead of his time, with respect to how he conducted his personal life. He didn’t bother with the ideal of monogamy, one man and one woman being in love until the day they died. He and the two women in his life forged their own brand of love and family. They followed their own romantic path.

They never claimed their non-traditional brand of love made them superior. That would’ve defeated the point. In Marston’s kinky world, any effort to dominate others through force, shame, or debate was pointless. In the end, the best way to bring peace is to conduct yourself in a way that makes others want to submit to your loving authority.

That’s not just my interpretation. When he was once asked by The American Scholar in 1943 about why Wonder Woman would appeal to men, he said this.

“Give them an alluring woman stronger than themselves to submit to, and they’ll be proud to become her willing slaves!”

As a comic book fan, a fan of beautiful women, and a fan of female strength in general, I whole-heartedly agree. The success of the “Wonder Woman” movie, over 70 years of comics, and a top place in the pantheon of iconic female heroes says a lot about our willingness to submit. Perhaps “Professor Marston & The Wonder Women” will help us appreciate that even more.

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