Top 10 Reasons to NOT Have Sex: 1-5

So I know you're thinking that I must have taken a break last week to turn all Christian and shit because now I'm coming back with a post with a pretty heavy title. But, mis amores, esto no es el caso. I needed a little break. Things got a little deep here in San Juan and I needed to stop and reflect on some serious shit. As I was reflecting, I came to some new conclusions. Ten of them actually. Ten reasons to not have sex. Now, before you get all riled up, be assured that I am NOT advocating celibacy and that none of the reasons that you will soon read will mention Jesus, God, or the Virgin Mary, except when I take their names in vain. What follows is a list of reasons to not have random sex. No no, not even that. It's more like a list of things to ponder previous to parting with your panties for the night. As you know, I like to use the second person in my writing, but I'm really just writing this shit for me. I need to remind myself of the really bad reasons I have convinced myself at some point in my life were excellent reasons to fuck. However, I have grown older and wiser and, needless to say, I will nevereverever again have sex for these reasons (you know I'm fucking with you, right? Soy la más pendeja when it comes to sex; fuck reason, yes?). By the way, these are in no particular order:

REASON ONE: Because you're mad at your partner and you want to get back at him/her.

So your partner is being a major dickface. Maybe he didn't call you when he said he would. Maybe he broke your hopeful heart and hurt your little feelings. Maybe instead of going out with you that night, he preferred to sit at home in his filthy calzoncillos and watch pornography or illegally download ridiculous amounts of music that he'll never have the time to listen to anyway, or something else that is not nearly as fun as grinding hard with you at the club. So you went out anyway and...encontraste a un chico en la disco que sí quiere perrear y, pa colmo, es buenismo. It turns out you don’t need old dickface anymore because you’ve found someone who will pay attention to you, thank you very much. Not only does this dude pay attention, he also pays for drinks. This is wonderful for many reasons: because you’re broke but so angry that you still want to get drunk and be reckless anyway and because you know that if dickface in the dirty calzoncillos knew that some other motherfucker was buying you drinks, he’d be so angry and that is an anger that you could never imbue in him no matter how many names you called him or how many doors you slammed in his face. Never has a beer tasted as good as the free one you are drinking at that moment with his handsome stranger.

You decide, therefore, to fuck him because you know that fucking this dude would piss your partner off royally, even though you will probably never tell him. And so you fuck and it’s awful. You know why it’s awful? Because you feel guilty as all hell. You totally just exacerbated the problem. Sex changes things. Sex changes everything. Somehow this random sex has done at least two really awkward things:

1. It has made you see that the dude passed out next to you was not that hot to begin with. As soon as you came and your mind was lifted from the fog that surrounded you as you sweatily attempted to reach that summit, you remembered that you don’t even remember his name and that you don’t want to. You remembered that there is someone you like so much that you let that someone piss you off and that this person snoring next to you is not that someone. As you settle into the moment of clarity that comes only after you come, you remember that you originally wanted to go out with your partner. And you’re pissed again. And you’re hurt again.
2. It has made it seem as if what you’re partner did to make you mad was not so bad in the first place. This is where the guilt creeps in. And now the guilt is turning the tables without your permission. Now that you’ve had sex with someone else, it is impossible to deal with the problem of your partner as it originally was. You’ve complicated it (way to go, loser). Now you’ll either easily forgive him for something that he should have to work a little harder to get your forgiveness for or you’ll blow up at him, hoping he’ll feel bad enough to apologize when really you’re the one that feels so bad and you’re just dumping your shitty feelings of remorse on him.
   

Whatever winds up happening, fucking someone else to get back at a partner for pissing you off is not cool at all. Instead of being such a spinelesschickenshit who can’t express her feelings because she’s scared of being vulnerable and winds up expressing those feelings in a way that makes everything eight BILLION times worse, I (I mean, you…naturally) should just talk to my (I mean, your) dude about why I’m (fuck, I mean YOU are) pissed off.

REASON TWO: Because you’re sad about someone, you miss him/her and you want to stop thinking about them.

This kind of sex will lead to nothing but further shitty feelings. The kind of shitty feelings that make you cry stupid tears into your stupid pillow. Promise. And you’ll have no one to blame it on but your stupid self. This kind of sex leads to innumerable comparisons between the person you are sad about and the person whose penis happens to be inside your vagina, or your mouth, or your ass. Let’s just say the person you are missing is named...uh...Joe. If you are sad because of Joe and you have sex with someone else this is what is going to go through your mind the entire time: Joe would totally be eating me out right now and it would be wonderful…Joe has the most beautiful eyes…why can’t I be with Joe…Joe’s penis fits perfectly inside my vagina…why can’t I be with Joe…the last time I had sex (what? Oh you want to hit it from behind now, ok, hold on, go 'head) where was I…oh yeah, the last time I had sex with Joe, it was so magical…I like the way Joe looks at me when I’m on top of him… why can’t I be with Joe…Joe’s hands feel like heaven on my skin…Joe makes me feel beautiful… why can’t I be with Joe…You get the picture. I swear, it’s only going to cause you more agony. No matter how good the sex could be at the moment, if you’re sad about someone else, it’ll be nothing more that lugubrious lovemaking. And that’s so inexplicably wack. Because it's a waste: a waste of a condom, a waste of a good penis, a waste of money because you probably spent a lot of it on alcohol, a waste of energy because it took so much of it to not cry while you were fucking and to pretend that you were oSOintoIT.

REASON THREE: Because you went out with a friend and she has found someone to hook up with and/or because your friends (who are also drunk) say you should.

Just because we’re adults doesn’t mean that peer pressure has ceased to have an effect on us. In fact, I have found that when I’m on a manhunt with a friend and she has already captured her prey, I feel really bad about myself. I wind up feeling ugly, fat, unfunny, like I’m a bad dancer, stupid, boring...in other words, completely worthless. I wind up going to the bathroom way too often to check myself out only to realize that I still think I look hideous. Then your friend comes along and she tells you that the dude she found has a friend. You look in the mirror again at your repulsive reflection, noticing that you keep getting more homely by the minute. You say, "fuckit" and go to meet this dude you will eventually be having sex with. After all, your friends have only your best interests in mind, right? Mmmm...Not so much when it comes to fucking. In this case, she’s trying to get laid just as badly as you are and she knows that finding you someone to get you off will only make her own situation easier. And you can't blame her. After all, if you go home with someone else then maybe she doesn’t have to worry about giving you a ride or at least she doesn’t have to worry about feeling bad that she found someone and you didn’t. So, even though she’s your homegirl, she may still be acting out of selfishness. Or maybe not, maybe she truly is being altruistic and really wants to see you happy. Regardless, I need to be making my own decisions about whom I let into my coochie.

So we should never let our friends dare us or drunkenly convince us to fuck someone else. Because sometimes those friends are just looking out for a friend too. It’s THE worst when a friend has introduced you to one of their friends, hoping that you’ll get together but you feel nothing for them. And then you’re at a party and you’re drinking and all of a sudden you feel obligated to have sex with this person who makes you feel…nothing. And then your friend elbows your ribs and whispers into your ear, “OMG! You guys are getting along SO well! I knew you would!” And you just want to say, “No we’re not. Please get me the fuck out this situation!” But by then your friend is already gone and her friend is already unbuckling your belt and kissing your neck.

REASON FOUR: Because you know this dude has an obscenely large penis.

I’m sick of big penises. Every dude with a big dick can jump off a fucking bridge for all I care. Or, no, they can go fuck themselves. Literally. Take your own dick, that you’re so fucking obsessed with, and shove it up your own goddamn ass, if it’s so fucking big. ¡No soporto los bichotes! And I don’t give a fuck what you motherfuckers say. I’m serious. Yo, on the real...I haven’t fucked one dude with a big dick that willingly ate me out. WTF?!? Why do I have to remind you to eat my pussy? Do you ever have to remind me to suck your dick? No. ¡Yo lo hago obligado! That’s like part of the meal. Like rice and beans. Chichaito con Medalla. Peanut butter and fucking jelly! Sexo y una mamada! Bed and head! Esto es lo más basico. Como Sexo 101. Just because you have a big dick doesn’t mean you get to weasel your way out of giving head.

Listen nenas, we need to stop our infatuation with big dicks. Because we are only making dudes with large members more lazy. We’re making them feel like they don’t have to develop any other essential skills (either sexual, emotional, or intellectual). You know what’s better that a dude with a big dick? A dude who loves eating me out. Talk about a needle in a haystack. Estoy segura que hay más hombres en este mundo con bichos grandes que hombres que le encanten mamar. So you know what, I’m gonna play like an anthropologist trying to find the Lost Civilization of the Happy Pussy Eaters. And every time I find a resident of that civilization, I’m gonna make him feel like a king. Because I know that dude will be all about getting me off. If you find a dude with a big dick I guarantee he’s not all about getting you off. What he is all about is talking about how big his cock is. And that’s like the most boring conversation ever:

Him: You know, hehehe, I have a monstrously big dick.
Me: Oh yeah, I have a monstrously big zit hiding under my bangs. Wanna see it?
Him: No.
Me: Fuck off then.

REASON FIVE: Because you are feeling slightly insecure about yourself.

Jesus. This one is kind of related to number three. I guess it’s like Oprah says, “you can’t expect someone to love you if you don’t love yourself.” Or some shit like that, right? Only thing I’m switching it to, “You can’t expect anyone to fuck you well if when you look in the mirror, you wouldn’t even fuck yourself.” When I’m depressed, masturbating is the most awful thing. Because I don’t love myself and so I’m not getting myself off as I would someone I loved. I do it as if I was doing something wrong and then I feel bad about it afterward. Like I wasted time or like I should have called my sister to see how she’s doing and now I’ve convinced myself I’m a horrible sister, you know? On the other hand, when I’m feeling awesome, masturbating is a celebration of me. I use all my toys. I even put on special underwear. The best is when I can take a nap afterward. Those are the most special naps ever. When I fuck someone hoping to climb out of the gutter of insecurity, guess how I feel afterward? Cheap. Ugh. It’s the WORST! And then when I’m having sex with them, I worry about how I look, if my “O” face is hot enough (forget the fact that I’m too busy having NO confidence to actually have an orgasm), I worry about if I’m giving good enough head, if I’m wet enough, if my vagina’s smelly, blah blah blah.

No, I can’t put someone’s penis in charge of making me feel good about myself. Seriously, for as corny and cliché as it sounds, I really have to respect and love myself first before I expect to have good sex. And in those moments, when I ask myself why I'm having sex, if I'm doing it because I want to celebrate myself and I want the person I am with to celebrate with me, it’s not only hard to be honest with myself, it’s tiring. That’s why drinking is not all that great either. I mean, alcohol is wonderful but it can make me forget about things that maybe I should be working really hard on, you know, like building up a self-confidence of steel.

Whew...that was hard. I'm gonna go drink a beer and smoke a cigarette now. Next week: 6-10.