If I were ever to undertake the composition of my autobiography – to set pen to paper for the story of me – I do not believe it possible that I could organize things in a manner more logical, personal, or appropriate than by The Times I Have Been Caught Masturbating.
What for anybody else would be a once-in-a-lifetime embarrassment has for me become almost an Art form unto itself. If you are listening to this blog post being read out loud somewhere, that’s Art with a big red capital “A.”
The cast of characters busting me over the years reads like a who’s who of the people that have passed through my life, some just long enough to throw me off the bus or out of the library where the lewd conduct in question was occurring.
Yes, my chronicle of finger bang busts would feature family (nuclear and extended), teachers (junior high through graduate level), roommates, co-workers, assorted waiters, a spouse, and at least one parking lot attendant. It would include major incidents from every phase of my life going as far back as I can remember and probably even further.
It would reveal – beyond all shadow of a doubt! – how many of the people I’ve known are unusually witty and quick with a one-liner:
Boss: “I think it’s about time we give Katy a promotion.”
Office Manager: “Really? Is she doing that well here?”
Boss: “No, but we’ve really gotta get her out of that cubicle and into an office where she has a door that locks.”
Some of the incidents – let’s say (hypothetically) a slumber party or that one time at the museum – were just exercises in poor judgment. Things where, you know, in retrospect I’d have to say, “How in the hell did I think I was going to get away with that?” Don’t get me wrong: It’s fine and dandy to spend a little time with yourself, but you need to be able to do some sort of quick cost-benefit analysis when it comes to the right here/right now aspects.
For most, I believe this to be the kind of wisdom that comes with age and with experience.
For me, well, I believe I am incapable of the level of embarrassment that would otherwise be a critical motivator in changing a pathological behavior. It might even be the case that I am incapable of any level of embarrassment whatsoever.
This is why, in my as-yet-unwritten autobiography, we’d end up with “Chapter Four: The Incident on the School Bus and its Unfortunate Aftermath.”
It’s why we’d move on, in time, to “Chapter Seven: Why My Good Friend, Bogart, Still Can’t Look Me in the Eyes.”
And it’s why the bonus material in the paperback version of my autobiography would include a section titled “Grandma Couldn’t Figure Out How to Work That Weird Curling Iron in My Bathroom.”
But it’s not all my fault. I mean it. Bad judgment and overactive fingers do not explain everything. Bad judgment and overactive fingers do not explain why, every time I look at online porn, the gods put thought balloons into people’s heads and the thought balloons say, “Hey! I haven’t talked to Katy in months! I think I’ll go over to her place and burst in on her suddenly right now…”
Bad judgment and overactive fingers do not explain why, enjoying myself while clinging to the back of a Harley on an abandoned highway in the middle of the night, the only constable in a three-county radius saw the two of us roll by that night.
Every Prospective Employer for the Rest of Time: “I notice on your background check that you had a relatively recent public lewdness charge. Could you tell me more about that?”
It’s not my job to live in a manner that makes you feel comfortable. A way that puts you at ease or that leaves the squeamish un-squeamed.
It’s not your job to tell me, when I mention that I’m sorta-kinda dating again, that, “Katy, you can’t love somebody else until you learn to love yourself.”
Because, I mean, don’t you already have sufficient firsthand proof (no pun intended) that I dolove myself, anytime and anywhere? That I might even be said to truly lo-o-o-o-ove myself?
These things and so much more will be made crystal clear to everyone, if ever and whenever I finally decide to write that autobiography. I’d probably have written it by now – written it a long time ago, in fact – if it wasn’t for one of my current hobbies always keeping me so damn busy.
For Bogart’s sake, though… Please remember to knock before walking into my room!
“Hey! I haven’t talked to Katy in months! I think I’ll go over to her place and burst in on her suddenly right now…”ReplyDelete
I'm glad you brought that point up. Because really, some of the blame lies with those who go walking in on other people as if there's no possible way they could be masturbating at that moment. I mean, really.
That bit about needing to love yourself is also silliness. Plenty of relationships are built on the self- loathing of one of the participants, who may love their partner all out of proportion to how little they love themselves.
The way I see it, I just need to love myself enough to keep going. For the time being, anyway. Anything beyond that is really just a waste of energy.Delete
Love of self is overrated anyway (in the more figurative sense I mean; in the literal sense it's not rated highly enough.) Everyone should loathe themselves to some extent, because everyone is possessed of some attribute(s) worth loathing. The issue is, as always, what you do with that loathing.Delete
And yes I agree. Enough to keep going is fine when the times call for it.
That's right. And when lawyers like yourself begin to self-loathe, I can always mention that it could be worse: You could have been a dentist.Delete
I joined AARP a few years back and to welcome me they sent me a finger vibrator with an assortment of tips. And an extra button battery. I am not making this up.ReplyDelete
Wow... AARP is really staying on top of the changing tastes of their demographic!Delete
When I turn 50, I'll probably get a week's supply of club drugs in the mail from 'em...
No, it's not your job to live in a manner that makes everyone feel comfortable, but it may be your job to exercise some modicum of restraint if co-workers and "assorted waiters" are stumbling in on you flicking the bean. Assorted waiters? Assorted? Maybe I'm not eating at good enough restaurants that after the third course I'm not compelled to take myself to completion. I have to up my foodie game.ReplyDelete
I would read that autobiography. And no, not just as I auto-erotic-asphyxiate either.
I was afraid of this...Delete
As I was writing it, I said to myself, "Pickleope is so old that he probably doesn't even remember what it's like to be young and bursting with hormones while eating in public!"
But just because you're getting up there in years does not mean you should stop expecting MORE from your food...
Masturbation and sex acts involving the rich, famous, and powerful were all the rage in the 1990s. We don't credit my Godfather, Pee Wee Herman (Paul Reubens) enough for ushering that era in with his 1991 arrest. It became extremely popular to talk about other people's masturbation habits, but never to mention our own. I've tried talking about it multiple times to anyone who would listen. They ended up looking at me like I was crazy. A lot of girls even told me that I was being "creepy" or I was "totally grossing" them out. Finally I got the hint and stopped talking about it altogether. This raised a lot of unaswered questions though, which I hope will get answered here:ReplyDelete
Eternal purity requires eternal vigilance against the devil's hand.
I might to late... You are drifting to the dark side...
I Corinthians 6:9 -- Sins that Paul believes will send you to Hell:
Wow. This guy is hilarious.
You weirdo, don't ever come back to this blog!Delete
I'm kidding, of course.
I hope your unanswered questions get answered. Preferably in a way that doesn't scar you for life...
I have link to your blog because you called me a weirdo and this issue is flapableDelete
Fancy a magical mystery tour to China, Japan and the Maldives? While picking up some hitchhikers like Shu Qi, Emma Watson, Hannah Minx, Kate Upton and Hunter S Thompson.
GOODSTUFF'S BLOGGING MAGAZINE (99th Issue)
Did you see Multiply (finally) disappeared?
yeah and the last time I checked the site was down - check again, still downDelete
It now simply says, "International Multiply is now closed, but please feel free to visit our Indonesian Marketplace or Philippines Marketplace."Delete
I feel like using it for my desktop wallpaper, just to remind myself that the past is over.
the past comes back to play with us -- The Talking Pee-Wee Herman Doll Is Probably A Toy You Would Play With Today -- http://www.buzzfeed.com/briangalindo/the-talking-pee-wee-herman-doll-is-probably-a-toy-you-wouldDelete
screen grab - http://media-cache-lt0.pinterest.com/736x/fe/37/f1/fe37f15d7db3280b74c1fd52ef5460e2.jpgDelete
I think I've finally arrived at a blog post for which I'm (undeniably) well-suited to comment, being the foremost expert of masturbation of my generation. I'm pretty sure that if I had a dollar for every time I've jerked off in my lifetime I wouldn't have to work again... although the sudden influx of cash might be a bitch to explain to the IRS.ReplyDelete
I've been walked-in on by siblings, friends, my own children, and various lovers/wives/girlfriends and roommates so often that now I don't even break stroke to acknowlege their rude interruptions.
"Hey, it's mine... I'll wash it as fast as I want to, dammit!" (besides, soap's such a slut!)
How did something so natural (and fucking fun) turn into something we're supposed to be ashamed of, or refrain from doing? Who writes these silly shit rules, any damn way?
I can think of two things that would immediately make this world a much more sane and safe place for humans in the future: (1) Legalize, promote, and encourage marijuana as a recreational narcotic (ever see Jamaicans starting wars or butting to other countries' business?) and (2) make masturbation an acceptable activity for anyone who enjoys making their own tiddly wink.
Stoners in a circle-jerk are highly unlikely to assault anyone, or pick unnecessary fights, or cause any of the trouble most of us get into when we're sober and not wanking.
Katy, you fiddle away all you want. If god didn't want you to masturbate, she would have given you shorter arms.
Your last statement is true and profound... and it helps explain the T. Rex. Those bastards should have known better!Delete
I haven't smoked marijuana in a long time... Mostly because if I did, then listening to music while masturbating would be ALL I'd ever do.
The good news is that, according to at least one commenter here (see above), the AARP is trying to do their part to get rid of the taboo of masturbation. As AARP goes, so goes the nation...
Hey, no smoke, ma'am... brownies. Yummy, moist, double-chocolate brownies. No paranoia, no stench, no breath-of-death... just a warm, fuzzy buzziness that makes the rest of the universe a lot more amusing to watch.Delete
Put on a mix CD and catch up.
Sounds too tempting.Delete
Might be time.
I discovered recently that if you use your other hand, it feels like a stranger's doing it. Unfortunately, the other people in church were not as excited about this as I was.ReplyDelete
You're going to be proven right about this in time.Delete
They used to call Galileo a madman when he masturbated in Church, too!
The part about the curling iron nearly had me shooting red wine through my nose. Well done.ReplyDelete
When your neighbors are staring through the screen door while you are butt naked and fully engaged with your wife in the living room and the majority of your clothing is on the floor in the kitchen, there isn't much you can do but embrace the situation. Perhaps not quite the same level of embarrassment as getting caught alone.
Haha... I don't know how to compare the two, as I've never been caught while with someone else...Delete
Statistically speaking - if I'm caught 1 in every 1,000 times alone or 1 in 1,000 times with someone else - this makes sense.
Ironically of all the times we were caught never was it in public, always in the mythical privacy of our own space. Regardless my lovely wife was mortifiedDelete
Your math is interesting. We may want to invoke a corollary of the plain view doctrine. Doing it in plain view greatly increases the odds of getting caught. You have to factor in the odds of friends/family dropping by unannounced. There is also some amount of bad luck too. I mean getting busted by a constable at night? The ones around here never work past 2:30 pm when the coffee shop in town closes
I assume the government is spying on me, so there are also THOSE times.Delete
I don't really mind, because I figure whichever poor government employee has been tasked on spying on citizens masturbating pretty much has the worst job in the government.
Worse even than cleaning the Senate bathrooms. Or Vice President.
Hold up a second, Katy (and Brent, hope you'll pardon the interruption, but I couldn't help over-hearing-reading your conversation)...Delete
There's a famous psychology question that asks if you could have one super-power, either the power of flight, or the power of invisibility, which would you choose.
There's no right or wrong answer, but I was told my "invisibility" request meant that I was a voyeur/masturbator type personality.
And they said it as if that's a bad thing.
Invisibility don't mean shit without an accompanying ability to fly.Delete
Who wants to walk to go spy on someone?
I am with Katy it would suck to have to walk around invisible. I am also with rhe voyur. Fine I am a perv. At this point in my life that is not really newsDelete
If we have reached this point in our lives without our voyeuristic tendencies getting us into legal trouble, then we're channeling it properly.Delete
...or else we're really good at it.
You may love yourself, but I just hurt myself reading your post. I'm so glad I finally figured out how to read them, not hurt myself, I already knew that.ReplyDelete
Hi, Mis Anthropy!Delete
I've hurt myself a few times loving myself.
But that's for another blog. I don't know any of you well enough to share that yet...
Katy. OK, for starters, I need to know, chronologically, what you were thinking about during your digitizations. (digitazations?) I find that the ways a person's mastofantisies evolve says everything about their character. And to follow up, have you ever thought of particular personages from here to the blogosphere? Have you ever thought of me, is, I guess, what I'm digging at. OK, would you try to think of me sometimes?ReplyDelete
I've tried not thinking of you a few times when you popped up during my sessions with Ivory Soap. I try to not waste my mental acuities on unattainable goals, but I can't help it. If you promise to think of me at least once, I'll feel better about myself.
Thanks, and I mean all of that in a quite not creepy way.
I was going to have your comment be the only one I didn't respond to, just to make you feel uncomfortable. You know, to just leave he comment hanging there...Delete
I don't like people all that much, so I hardly ever think of people.
Sensations... Well, sensations, I like.
Diogenes the great philosopher was notorious for beating his meat in public. When his fellow Athenians complained, he responded by declaring that "my only regret is that hunger cannot be so easily satisfied - by simply rubbing my stomach."ReplyDelete
I like that.Delete
I also like how, no matter how low brow I go, you can always ALMOST turn it around.
<<== rubbing his belly buttonDelete
You seem like you are contemplating something...Delete
I feel a CME (Coronal Mass Ejaculation) coming on!Delete
It was so good... the neighbors needed a smoke!
me rubbing myself - http://img.izismile.com/img/img6/20130328/1000/daily_gifdump_337_23.gifDelete
I was hoping for a platypus.Delete
"It's not my job to live in a way that makes you feel comfortable." Brilliant! Also, thank you for the morning laugh.ReplyDelete
Glad I could get a laugh out of somebody. This has been getting to be a tough room...