…I was amazingly restless…
Hello dear readers! Right, let’s get the apologies out the way first. Sorry I left you for so long, I’ve been very busy, my dog broke down, a third made-up excuse. Good that’s all done, on to business or should I say the lack of business this week. As you may glean from the title, I tried abstinence on for size. No, I haven’t embraced Catholicism, their only policy I agree with is pleasing a well dressed older man who’s sitting on a pile of money. The inspiration for this post actually came from an unlikely source, my uncle. Before I’m deluged by incest remarks, we’re a really close family and very honest when it comes to sex. He informed me that a period of ten days minus ‘self-loving’, is supposed to improve your health, a feat he was yet to complete…
Top Tip #756: Be a sexual guinea pig, hear some untested advice? Give it a go! Be the change you want to see in the world.
Initially, I felt some trepidation towards sharing this with you all, am I bearing too much of my sex life online? A quick look back at when I talked about my prostate being treated like a whack-a-mole killed that fear in the crib. Onwards with my masturbation habits… Now there might be differences between men and women here, but personally I ‘charm the snake’ (the euphemisms are only going to get worse guys…) at least once every two days. Is this normal? Who cares. This year I promised to listen to my body more. If I’m hungry I’ll eat and should the right fan art of Frollo catch my eye, then goddamnit I’ll touch myself.
My weird obsession aside, I was genuinely excited to try this challenge. As a single Pringle, my most reliable partner is myself (or my vibrator) and I’d begun to worry men will never match up. Any casual reader will know that the guys I’ve slept with aren’t exactly sexual powerhouses, I hoped this would reignite my passion for sex.
The rules were simple:
- No sex of any kind, your body has the same opening hours of the local Blockbuster (what a current pop-culture reference Sam).
- No orgasms. Feel free to touch yourself if you’re in a masochistic mood but no real pleasure.
I spent the last two weeks completing this challenge so you don’t have to, here are the results.
1 – My Sex Drive isn’t as High as I think it is:
As my current routine is once every two days, I dreaded my third ‘dry’ evening. By the fourth morning, my mind was prepared for a revolt that ironically didn’t come. There was no burning desire, no unwarranted erections, just the same old morning coffee and a cigarette. This called all my previous beliefs about my junk into question. How many times had I murdered so many unborn out of boredom rather than need? The fear that my body had accepted lifelong singledom was almost confirmed, however I soon found out…
2 – I Began to Think About Sex Constantly:
The early anxiety that my sex drive was deader than Megan Fox’s career was soon proved wrong. I had expected my body to betray me immediately but just like Jesus, it took three days to rise. It was during an aerobics class when my mind finally flipped. The setting was as unsexy as possible, a room full of pensioners (including my grandma) lightly exercising to prevent their joints finally turning to stone. I had gone along to spend time with my family and one move instantly reminded me of the video for “Call On Me”.
That’s right, in a cluster of women closer to buying coffins than condoms, one rogue hip-thrust marked the true beginning of the challenge. From that moment on, I thought about sex constantly. I’d make a coffee and think “just like how I like my men, dark and strong”, instead of the usual; “just like how I like my men, Columbian and trapped in a bag”. Putting on clothes became more challenging because I couldn’t wear the airier (sluttier, let’s be honest) shorts I prefer to wear. Even sleep did not give me respite because…
3 – I Started Having SO MANY Sex Dreams:
I feel this point is self-explanatory… Before my decent into self-control hell, I never had sex dreams. Being more accustomed to nightmares or sleep paralysis (I’m fun to sleep with *wink*) this was a pleasant change but not worth the sacrifice. Sure it’s fun to have naughty dreams but if I can’t act on them after, I’d prefer to go back to the recurring stabbing nightmare. They may be scary but thankfully followed by a “thank God I’m alive” wank (what a vulgar word).
4 – I Became Incredibly Focused:
With my mind unravelling to the glowing embers of desire, I looked for things to distract myself with. Weirdly, the ever-present want to ‘Crown the King’ (I told you it gets worse), made me better at short mental tasks. Crosswords, Sudoku and Scrabble all knelt to my over-charged brain, I started doing all three once a day. Maybe there is some truth to the adage that all nerds are virgins, I definitely became cranially sharper.
5 – I Started Eating Well and Exercising:
I’m genuinely concerned that I would be a much better person if I didn’t ‘Help put Mr Kleenex’s Kids through College”. Not only had my brain found a foothold that still eludes most Republican voters, my body transformed aswell. I started each day by exercising for an hour (including a 10-minute ‘ab attack’), followed by salad, so much salad. My spirit animal became a rabbit rather than Christina Aguilera circa 2011. I posit that my body had finally accepted that it needed to improve if it was to actually get any release. With the masturbation well dry, it turned to exercise to encourage sex instead.
6 – Day Five…
Cards on the table guys, it took me three attempts to complete this challenge, day five was my Waterloo each time. I’m not sure why the coals of desired burned strongest mid challenge but they did. The first time I was caught off guard by an article called “Didgeridoo Me”. Being a fanatic lover of bad puns, I followed the link all the way to the original ‘Erotic film’ that shared the same name. The second time I got drunk and had sex with Mr Kitten Sheets, sue my slutty ass. An immediate side effect of failing was my diet died too. It was almost instant in both cases, I would run to the nearest source of sugar and carbs and just gorge. It seems my inner obesity is kept in constant check by my sexual output. To put it in a disneyfied curse verse; the less the I cum, the prettier I become…
7 – My Diet was Better but I Smoked ALOT:
There isn’t much to say about this one. My spirit animal may have been a rabbit, but it was a rabbit with a two pack a day habit (how am I rhyming so much this week?). I suppose it’s the law of balance, when one body part gets healthier, another must wither and die.
8 – My Body Standards Dropped:
Weirdly, whilst my body got stronger, healthier and harder *wink*, I stopped looking after myself. I still haven’t waxed my chest after almost a month and feel incredibly manlier. Possibly it’s due to an excess of testosterone in my body. Typically, I wax my chest once every two weeks and feel sexy but feminine. Since I’ve ‘Consummated the Relationship with Myself’ the urge to wax has reappeared (sadly my bank account vetoed this). I have no scientific reason for this, maybe my subconscious turned to appearing healthy to attract a mate where I consciously depend on looking young? It’s much more likely I pulled a Marlon Brando and stopped caring without sex to keep me cute.
9 – The Rest of My Standards Soon Followed:
After I stopped caring about my body hair, I stopped caring about everyone’s bodies too. Like rats running from a sexual Titanic, my pet peeves about partners skipped town to greener pastures. I started finding anyone attractive, hell I went back to Mr Kitten Sheets on my second swing at this. At one point, I distinctly remember walking around a French supermarket and muttering “gosh he’s cute” about a cartoon biscuit mascot. A cartoon biscuit mascot people.
This was the last effect to plague my toned, smoky and desperate body. Bear in mind I already have pretty low standards, I was by no means (God this is a sad irony) looking for prince charming…
10 – The Orgasms were Amazing:
I don’t have much to say about this, I didn’t have much to say at the time either. The best analogy I can give you is that it was like Adele’s albums. They don’t come often but when they do it hits hard.
Top Tip #789: When comparing your sex life to music, alway pick living musicians. Comparing sex with Stacy to Micheal Jackson’s ‘Beat It’ implies it was a long time ago and uncomfortable in hindsight.
So what have we learned this week readers? Personally, I will masturbate less but never leave gaps longer than five days. I became healthier, thinner and much more open to meeting men, the reasons I started this blog in the first place. Waiting any longer seems to turn me into Linsey Lohan (gosh it’s been so long since I’ve taken a shot at her), angry, easy and just a little bit predatory. Overall I would encourage other people who “Make Much a Goo About Nothing” frequently to try it too (side note, that is my favourite euphemism by a mile). I definitely found out things about my sexuality which I didn’t realise existed before.
Right so that’s it for this post, I’m thinking about starting a Tumblr where I release older posts which have been renovated? My writing is only slightly better than when I started but for new readers, I’d like to tidy the place up a bit. I’m slowly going through and editing my posts so if you’re interested in reading my older work look for the ones which use emojis as the banner.
Tune in next week (I promise) for a brutal analysis of myself, have I turned into a fuck boy?
Dates: Three! More to follow cherubs.
Diet: Well I’ve finally ‘found myself’ again so it’s taken a nosedive…
Cigarettes: See Above.