Warning: Mature Subject Matter. If
you are easily offended, log back in tomorrow or if you are catching up, just
skip to the next article.
Back in the real world, I always used
to say that there were three aspects of my life: Money, Housework, and Sex.
That was it. I could handle two of these aspects but not all three. So, if you
give me money to entertain myself with new DVDs or books and stuff, I am cool
with that and will handle all the housework. If you do all the housework and I
have money, I will not pester you with that third item. But if I am giving you
all the money and doing the lion’s share of the housework, you better be taking
care of my needs in the bedroom. That was it plain and simple. Easy peasie,
lemon squeezie.
Thinking with “guy brain,” sex was
pretty freaking simple. I treated it much the same way that America did with
drinking. Did you have a bad day? Let’s hop on the good foot and do the bad
thing and at least we can say it ended well. Had a great day? Well, I know a
certain carnal delight that would be a great way to finish it off. To me, it
was a way to shut the outside world out for forty-five minutes and just enjoy
in the pleasure of your spouse. If you were sleeping next to someone and if sex
feels good, it seemed stupid not to be having sex. Sex feels good. We are both
right here. Why aren’t we doing this?
Well, when things went south for me, I
was sleeping alone. Sex just wasn’t an option. It was a lot like George
Costanza in that SEINFELD episode. Once the mind wasn’t preoccupied with it, it
just kind of withered on the vine and your brain focused on something else. So,
in many ways, I was fully prepared and rehearsed for the lack of physical
intimacy that comes with the Zombie Apocalypse.
I know people are out there doing the
hibbity-dibbity. Kasondra and Brad are discrete but everyone knows. I am quite
certain there have been other midnight rendezvous amongst the survivors but I
have not exactly gone out to investigate. I have locked that part of brain away
simply because I do not want any additional complications. Life in this world
is complicated enough. I don’t want to add to it with uncomfortable
conversations with Alex.
And, here is the thing, I think most
young men if given the choice between a curable STD and a partner getting
pregnant, they are taking the STD any day of the week and twice on Sunday. As
men, we are programmed to believe that pregnancy is one of the worst possible
outcomes from relations. Why? Because that means the party is over and you have
a child to take care of. Play time is over at that point. (I guess if you are a
piece of trash and have no intention of taking care of your offspring then it
is a whole different story.)
Oh my God, I could not even imagine
the horrors of trying to raise a baby in this world. Sure, we have a lifetime
supply of formula and diapers on the shelves here but what kind of a childhood
would this be? The power is going to be lost eventually. Milk is long gone.
There is no way I would want to even risk that.
So I am keeping that part of my mind
shut off. Looking in from the outside, I know that seems strange but when you
are crawling into bed alone, it’s not that hard…
