Sex and money
Terry sent me a link a few days ago, claiming that those with more money don’t necessarily get laid more: Economists find no link between sex, money.
While higher frequency of sex was associated with higher levels of happiness, the researchers said the cause and effects were unclear: “working out whether sex causes happiness or causality runs in the reverse direction will be particularly difficult here,” they said.
Anyway, today we find that “Nothing makes adults - regardless of gender or age - as happy as sex.” So happy, in fact, that they’ve put a dollar value to it.
If they could actually pay me for the happiness I derive from nookie, I wouldn’t need to find a job and can work purely for self-actualisation. *cough*
In today’s second post on masturbation
From faithful reader TuTu, a heads up (pun completely intended) on a special product known as the Men’s SOM:
He reckons my interest (purely sociological) in Xiamen’s Handjob Parlour™ scene more than calls for special attention to this product. Thank you, TuTu (and Ossie), for yet another reminder that those Japanese sure are kinky.
Stoking the brass monkey
Ben, Neil and I are on his new deck. Ben has fed us a shot of tequila and a margarita. Bad Ben. Ben and Neil are talking about something, which ends with Neil saying something about ’spanking the chicken’.
“No, no,” say I. “It’s ’spanking the monkey’ and ‘choking the chicken’.”
I am also aware of the term ‘visiting Mrs Palmer and her five daughters’. But I am at a loss to think of any more. Any other suggestions would be most appreciated, and will contribute to the fight against terrorism.
Finally, hard facts!
Handjob Parlours™ are not just tales told in hushed voices on serialdeviant.org(y): Face to face with a sex worker.
“Do you want Qiao Da Bei (body massage)?” Xia asked soon after she, with her boss’ nod, showed the reporter into a small backroom off the shabby salon and began massaging the reporter’s arms somewhat unskillfully.
…
To Xia, Qiao Da Bei can be more profitable than fondling or Da Feiji (helping customers masturbate) which are supposed to be done in the backroom which also doubles as a dining room for Xia and her co-workers.
…
But Xia is not entirely satisfied with the job. “It’s really boring staying all day in here,” she said. Apart from when work walks in from time to time, Xia and two other sex workers - who are 17 and 18 - spend the days chatting and watching an old TV in the salon.
Well, at least Shanghai and Xiamen are not so different in one aspect.
It’s a mighty big favour
Many, many years ago, before homes enjoyed broadband service, before weblogs were cool, and instant messaging was all but unheard of, I used to hang out on IRC - the Australian Undernet server on the #singapore channel, to be precise. I made a lot of online friends in those days, much more than the few Neil dubs my ‘online pals’. One, in particular, stands out.
His introduction came by way of a private message, or PM. He wasn’t one of those creeps trying to type with one hand, he was an international student, like me, and very, very shy. He was more than a little infatuated with a girl in his class, and had no idea how to chat her up. For some unknown reason, he came to me for advice.
I gave him advice. Our friendship thus bloomed, and we tended to hang out most weekends. He’s a few years older than me, and despite his relative inexperience with women, treated me like a little sister he had to take care of. Except for that time I got him falling down drunk (his first experience with alcohol, too) and had to drive him home. He saw me through dating one inappropriate guy after another, a keening lust for his flatmate (most worthy stalking material - I wonder what he’s doing now?), semesters with too much partying, and finally, graduation.
As can and usually does happen, he stayed on at university and I went home, so we lost touch. A few years after I last spoke with him, I was pleasantly surprised to receive a telephone call from said friend, looking to meet and catch up. I was really looking forward to seeing him again.
We had a great time reminiscing and embarrassing each other. As it turns out, not only had he managed to date girls with increasing confidence, he’d even got serious with one. He wistfully told me that she was still back in Australia, finishing off her degree. Then he told me he’d been getting horny without her and would I, as a friend, to make him feel better, shag him?