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“Whole
Lotta Tongue”
A friend informed me recently that monkeys
in Indonesia have learned how to shoplift supermarkets.
Robbing the store--of bananas, broccoli and beer, no doubt--has
become a team effort made possible when the monkeys figured
out what shopping bags are for . . . to carry off groceries.
Reportedly, one monkey will enter the store and create a
major disturbance; one would think that just seeing a monkey
walk into a store would be disturbing enough. But this is,
afterall, Indonesia, so something more is needed--like running
into the feminine hygiene section, tearing into the tampons
and walking around the store with one sticking out of your
monkey face like a "heavy days" cigar. At any rate, the
means of distraction is unimportant to the monkeys. What
matters is the rest of the marauding monkeys running into
the store and doing their best thirty second shopping spree
imitation, loading as much easily consumed fruits, vegetables
and beverages into their shopping bags as possible, then
fleeing out the front door and into the forests beyond.
Up until this dramatic change of events,
the monkeys and the Indonesians had reached a kind of uneasy
truce.The people won't go into monkeyland and shake them
out of their trees, and the monkeys won't run shrieking
into peoples bedrooms late at night. Till some bright monkey
got the idea, 'hey, these shopping bags are great for carrying
bananas.' Now it's a war.
Which brings me to the brightest monkeys
up on Pill Hill in Portland (Oregon Health Sciences University)
who have discovered "female sexual response is more complicated
than the simple mechanics of male arousal." That's right,
according to the Oregonian. And it probably took
a mid-six-figures research grant from a major pharmaceutical
company to come to that conclusion. You see, what happened
is this: following the Indonesian monkey analogy, men and
women had agreed to a kind of uneasy truce in the bedroom.
Men won't venture up into the murky dark rainforest of female
sexuality, where God only knows what bizarre, pagan rites
and sacrifices go on. By the same token, women have agreed,
for the most part, to let men do their shopping in the supermarket
of dick jerk sexual response from blow-up dolls and porno
to prostitutes. Then Viagra came along and shot that detente
all to hell like a giant ABM missile. Just like the monkeys
got jealous of supermarket convenience, so too the women
wanted to load up their shopping bags with sexual stimulants.
I mean, if a pill can make Harold jerk-off to a computer
screen all night long, just think what it would do for me
and my romance novels, or the hunky neighbor down the street,
or my friend Sally at the gym and the way she looks wearing
a sports bra and a good sweat.
![[Image: Eros]](images/eros.GIF) Pharmaceutical
Giants found out about the women, ready to venture out of
their prehistoric sexual forest and demand wet pussies and
instant orgasms followed by centuries-long afterglows with
the ingestion of a pill. So the race was on to do for women
what many (most) men have failed to provide: desire and
orgasm. So far, the shopping bags are only loaded down with
research, development and trial booty. And I must say, some
of the things they've come up with can't possibly be meant
as more than a major distraction, while their colleagues
loot and plunder. Like the Eros (tm) sexual aid for women--the
first medical device for female sexual dysfunction. Remember
the advent of the Acujack pumps and pistons for improving
the male penis? Well, that's about all this Eros device
is.
"The medical device . . . creates a mild
suction over a women's clitoris and is designed to enhance
blood flow to the genitals, therefore improving sensation,
lubrication and overall sexual satisfaction." --the Oregonian
Sounds just like those Acujack devices for
men you can order outta any adult magazine for $19.95, plus
shipping and handling. Only smaller. Much smaller, so it
will fit snuggly over the hood of the clitoris. Wait a second.
I can create a mild suction over a women's clitoris that
improves blood flow, sensation, lubrication and orgasm with
my mouth... for free!
Or, you can pay Urometrics about $359 for
the same device as any sucking mouth; but, you'll need a
prescription.
How about this prescription for love: a woman
comes to me and says, "I need you to go down on me." Presto.
Mild suction, enhanced blood flow on my knees for free.
No waiting at Safeway to get your Eros sexual aid prescription
filled.
I'm telling you, it's all just a distraction,
while the other monkeys run into the supermarket and walk
off with shopping bags full of Pharmaceutical money.
Meanwhile, the women are coming down out of
the trees in their sexual rainforest, demanding to run shrieking
with orgasm through the bedrooms. Distracted?
I'll tell you what distracted is: driving
the most fabulon woman back home to St John's the other
night. 4:00 A.M. winding along that deserted river highway.
One button at a time, she's opening her blouse, revealing
her black bra secrets in the slanting street light shadows,
taking my hand to her breasts, trying to keep it smooth
and steady at 55. And then dropping her off at her front
door like an absolute gentleman. Why? Because anything worth
having is worth waiting for.
Get it? Forget the instant desire and orgasm
pill for women. Let's all just slow down and relearn the
loving living tongue. Become poets of the flesh. Her flesh.
Like a museum with rooms after rooms. If you don't have
time to go there and do it right, then don't go there. Instead
of solving or ignoring her mystery, why not celebrate it?
With a lotta tongue.
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