Like art in the first article today, sex is subjective, it is personal, its translation is unique to the individual in question. Different people are turned on by different things, and it seems there are just about as many kinks in this world as there are sexually active human beings.
I don't understand most of them, but that's ok, I don't have to.
I'm not a prude by any means, and I'm sure I enjoy some things that would make June Cleaver turn three shades of red. But I also don't think I'm particularly off-the-charts in the sexual adventure arena. And what goes on behind my closed door is frankly no one else's business.
So if shoes, foot odor, trapezes, costumes, feathers, Ravel's Bolero, or hot wax do it for you - indulge and enjoy. It's between you and your consenting partner.
There are, however, some kinks I have zero tolerance for.
Don't flash me on the streetcorner - chances are if you are out in a trenchcoat in the 90 degree heat, the only things you're packing are shriveled and pruned up with prickly heat.
Don't invite me to your Eyes Wide Shut party. I prefer my sex one-on-one, not as performance art with some random, masked stranger.
And stop sending me emails for porn sites, ok? I'm insanely creative on my own and, quite frankly, the porn I have seen in my lifetime has only made me laugh out loud. That boom-chicka-wow-wow music and lack of plot just make me giggle. And guys? Real women do not answer the door in a teddy and four inch Lucite heels at 2pm. We're busy scrubbing toilets and Shouting out the skidmarks in the laundry.
Finally, the kinky folk I have no understanding of, tolerance for, or feel the need to share oxygen with are those people who get excited by the thought, sight, or personal exploitation of children.
Frankly, anyone who looks at a child with lust needs a bullet through their sorry head. We don't need you here. We don't want you here.
Which brings me to yet another waste of flesh arrested in Florida last evening on charges of trafficking in child and BABY pornography.
The thought is enough to make me put a bullet in my own head.
21 year old Tony Guerra was arrested Thursday night at his job - at Disneyland.
Undercover investigators, posing as a mother, had been approached in a Google Chat room by Guerra who stated, "I love babies." then asked if the mother had ever molested her kids. He then sent "her" 63 photos and four videos of child and baby pornography.
I'll pause while you throw up a little in your mouth too.
My heart absolutely breaks in two for the children in this world who are caught in the illicit, horrendous, useless, exploitative world of the adults in their lives. No child, of any age, should ever know anything but love, acceptance, safety, and the overwhelming sense of being cherished.
That there are children, right now as I type, being raped in front of a video camera for profit, sickens me. And the animals who do the deeds deserve no trial, no jury, no judge, no due process. They deserve a slow, painful, bloody death. And it needs to be public. If ever there was a need for the town square, this is it.
A few public removals of testicles and penises, followed by a thorough and complete sodomization with a broom handle, and then a bullet to the temple - that ought to make some people like Tony Guerra rethink what they find exciting in life.
Think I'm being a tad harsh? Sorry, but when it comes to the protection of children, I'm not kidding around.