I lost most of November to Hurricane Sandy-ass, and her aftermath. I can honestly say that after that she-bitch blew through my town, flooded my basement and took away my power, heat and hot water for 17 days, I did not feel very sexy or amorous. Instead, I felt cold, dirty, (not in a good way) and I’m pretty sure that the potent odor that followed me wherever I went, was originating from my pores. Yum. For the first time in a long time, sex was the last thing on my mind… and that irked me.
I was busy thinking about mold spores, ripping sheetrock out of the walls and changing generator oil. I was not dreaming about anal beads and hot bubble baths. I was euphoric when I took my first hot shower and I actually could see myself under the lights in front of a mirror. And now, just like that, it’s the start of the holiday season. Ho Ho Ho… and I do mean that in a whore-y kind of way.
I started thinking about how sex is different during the holidays. I wondered if people had more or less of it. Does the eggnog go to his head (yes, that head) and the next thing you know, you’re doing it by Menorah candlelight? Or are you preoccupied cooking, shopping, decorating, baking, working, generally stressed because you’re hosting Aunt and Uncle Drunkard, who’s visiting from Peoria for a week, so sex is on the way, way, back burner? [Read more...]