My introduction to the term “Sperm Warfare” came by way of a book published in 1996, itself simply titled “Sperm Wars“. There’s dispute on whether sperm warfare is something that occurs with human sperm, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about. The most memorable parts of Sperm Wars are when the author, after describing deceitful reproductive strategies, would give color to them by adding short stories to demonstrate how these things can and do play out in the real world.
Today, while I continue speaking about a topic I started in a previous post, I’d like to tell you about
the time a time that I came pretty close to consciously playing out one of Sperm Wars’ short stories.
On this night, while laying with Giovanna during our usual pre-fuck chat-and-stroke, she told me that her (then) boyfriend’s condom broke the night before, and that he came inside of her. For whatever reason, they didn’t get a morning after pill (Having bought many of the cursed things in my time, I think I know why: They cost 50 fucking bucks!), so she was worried she might end up pregnant, and really disliked the idea of having a baby with a guy that she was basically dating for financial reasons (she was not turned on by him in the slightest, and he was a minute man to boot). Knowing what I know about human reproduction, I was aware that her getting pregnant wasn’t such a sure thing, and thus saw an opportunity…
So I leaned over her, placed my palm around the side of her neck, looked her in her eyes, and in a too-serious tone asked, “You know what I should do to you?”
The picture used in my post on sluts got me thinking of my past experience with jailbait (funny that the girls in the slut post look more jailbaity than the ones I’m using for this post), and I thought I should share it.
This was back when I was still working with the crew mentioned throughout the “Christina Saga”. My buddy “Fred” and I were on the job late one Friday night, driving stuff back and forth in our work vehicle—which happened to be a massive, turbo-charged truck—when this all went down.
While waiting at a red light, a little Honda Accord pulled up two lanes over from us…and it was chock-full of chicks. So I smack Fred on the shoulder and call him over to my window. “Bro! Check it out…” Fred leans over to look, and his eyes widen. “Uhhhh, hello? What the fuck are you waiting for?! Honk the horn!” So I hang my left elbow out of my window, and give the horn two good presses with my right hand. The girls all look over, and in unison, let out a “WOOOH!” while shooting their girly little fists into the air.
“WHATSUP?!”, Fred shouts across the way…
“WHERE’S THE PARTY AT?!” one of them shouts back…
In keeping with the theme of my last few posts, I wanted to share a story about a time in which my adventures with “taken” women actually went less than stellar. Navigating the seas of women can be rough, but never as much as when the other man is a friend, and the woman is a dunce.
The girl in question—we’ll call her “Caprice”—is what I’d call a social climber, though in this instance, she was more of a social lateral mover. Caprice met my friend, whom we’ll call “Duane”, after one of her girlfriends was invited to hang out by a co-worker of ours. I wasn’t around when this went down, but by the time I met her, Duane and her were already dating…more or less (more on this later).
It was at another social gathering with the same group of friends that I first met her. For Caprice, I think it was pretty much lust at first sight. I would have needed to be partly blind to miss the fact that she was eye-fucking me the entire night.
(Jeebuz! What is it with me always attracting sluts? Does my resting asshole face also read as an “I love sluts!” face?)
When the night wound down, and I was getting ready to split, Caprice asked to borrow my phone. Apparently, she’d left hers out in her car, and “needed” to call it to check her inbox. Now, maybe I have too much sex on my mind (it’s true), but I totally took this as her making a move on me. If you’re not convinced by the things that sex-crazed Jack tells himself, though, then consider that Duane was nearby, and his cell phone was sitting on the coffee table right in front of him. If you’re still not convinced about my assessment, then…keep reading.
It’s all fun and games until the clown pipes your dame
(Or, “On The Moral Implications Of Sleeping With ‘Taken’ Women.”)
This is something that I’ve wanted to speak about for a while now. Some of my crazier misadventures have involved me hooking up with women that were in relationships, so it’s something that I thought I should address.
I recently wrote about my views on infidelity, from how I define cheating, to who’s more likely to cheat, and in that same post, put forth the following idea: It is up to couples to agree upon what behavior will and will not be permissible in their relationships. These relationship terms are a bit like business contracts; they are about mutual benefit. “You scratch my back, I scratch yours. You don’t fuck anyone but me, and I keep paying all of the bills.”
(Or “Welcome To The Desert Of The Real, Lesson 1: No, We’re Not Actually Monogamous.”)
Something that’s always earned me a bit of hate, both online and off, is my apparent indifference towards “cheating”.
Human relationships being one of my central interests, I’ve often taken the liberty to add my thoughts to discussions about infidelity. The result, usually, is that I get dog pilled by a righteously indignant mob, so intent on remaining angry, that anything I say about cheating that isn’t prefaced with an absolute condemnation of the act is taken as me defending it. I’d argue this isn’t my story, however…
Certainly, while reading through some of my posts, my morals must have come into question at least once or twice. If they have, then this post is for you (and if they haven’t, then stand by for upcoming posts).
So, what is “morality”? Here’s a definition that I accept: Morality is a value system, created by groups and/or individuals, which purports to identify right (good) from wrong (bad), and prescribes appropriate behavior based on these classifications.
In other words, morality is ultimately subjective. Many seem to either be totally unaware of this, or in childish opposition to it, but it does not make it any less factual. I’ve argued this, very successfully, with a variety of people, and in a variety of venues, both private and public, in cyberspace and in meatspace. The reason my argument has been successful is because it’s true. Without subjects, there wouldn’t be morality, nor the conditions which caused it to emerge. But morality isn’t only subjective in the sense that it cannot exist without subjects. It is subjective because how and to whom it is applied depends entirely on the subject[s] applying it. This is typified by the interactions between ingroups and outgroups.
Did you think moral laws like “Thou shalt not kill” applied to those outside of “god’s” chosen tribe? (Christians love peddling the idea that morality is objective, too.) Do you think those enslaved by early Americans were afforded the same moral consideration that early Americans afforded each other? How about all of the Rwandans wiped out by the Hutu? The closer you examine the claim that morality is “objective”, the tougher a sell it becomes…