Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word "culture". Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws. Or people I work with. Because there are many things I don't need you people to know about me. SO STOP READING, CO-WORKERS. You know who you are.
Today's topic: No sex for you!
I used to be quite the purveyor of sex, and it was probably my sluttish ways that secured Current Husband to me. But CH has been wronged in a number of ways since the day of "I Do."
- First, I cut off my long hair about two weeks after the wedding. CH has a philosophy that women use their long hair to fetch themselves a husband (because it is a truth universally acknowledged that every young woman with long hair must be in need of a husband), and then they cut it off when the deal is sealed. I used to scoff at this notion, but I have to admit that I've seen it happen more than once. It must be a symbolic cutting off of oneself from the insanity of planning a wedding.
- I stopped cleaning. Okay, I never really cleaned, but at least I used to make an effort toward the ILLUSION that I cleaned, such as stuffing the dirty clothes under the bed, putting old magazines under the couch, and sticking dirty dishes in the oven when people would come over, only to forget and fill the house with smoke when preheating my oven a few days later. CH, on the other hand, cleans a mean bathroom.
- I stopped being a whore. When CH was Current Boyfriend, I was freshly graduated from college and feeling liberated and unencumbered. Let's have sex on the living room floor! Let's re-enact 9 1/2 weeks! Let's get you a gag ball and call you Slappy! (Okay, I've never used a gag ball. But I have called him Slappy.)
So totally me.
If I was blonde, sexy, and inexplicably
attracted to Mickey Rourke.
Maybe it is The Full Time Job I Can't Blog About. Maybe it's the move. Maybe I'm perimenopausal. Maybe I'm a frigid bitch. No, I think it's the job. Either way, I've become The Sex Nazi.
It happens all the time. CH starts circling me after dinner when I am clearing away the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, and he is....circling me after dinner. He starts trying to be cute and lunge at my boobs or "hug" me from behind and say sexy things like "You know you want it". (Was it obvious at dinner in front of the kids when I said, "Do you want more meatloaf?" that I really meant "Do you want me to eat your meatloaf?" nudge nudge wink wink. Because that is TOTALLY what I meant, you really "get" me.)
Suddenly, something happens to push me over the Annoyed line, and it's "NO SEX FOR YOU!" Don't clear away dishes with me? "NO SEX FOR YOU!" Watch SyFy or USA too long and it's "NO SEX FOR YOU!" Fart just one too many times? "NO SEX FOR YOU!"
It's sad really. I used to love sex. I was the absolute, frequent instigator of sex. At least one of our children was conceived in the back seat of our car in our own driveway. Another might have been in my parent's garage. I was Paris Hilton without the coke. I was Jersey Shore without the tan or Ed Hardy or Jersey. I was Tila Tequila but three feet taller and monogamous. Now I'm Phyllis Diller.
Is it age? Do I need some Vitamin D or Folic Acid or Spanish Fly? It's not CH - he's still got it goin' on, he just doesn't always make it on my "To Do" list. There are kids to be fed and a dog to be groomed and a job and a house to unpack and showers to take and legs to shave before that action can go down. When did being an adult become such a pain in the ass? What happened to Dime Draws or Bloody Mary night with Beer chasers and Baby's Got Back on the house sound system and the Walk of Shame?
I am The Sex Nazi. And don't even think you can reference this blog post and use it to guilt me into sex CH, or there will be NO SEX FOR YOU! I'd love to hear if I'm alone - I know for a fact a few of you gentle readers are in the same boat.
Happy Whoreticulture Friday! Go on out and have The Sex.
5 comments:
We were all concieved in rice fields, but even so none of us are sex-Nazis. We're more like sex-anarchists.
Have a nice day, Boonie
Welcome to the life of a full time working woman. Between working 50 hours a week, caring for a one year old and a three year old, blogging, keeping up with housework and trying to manage to maintain family and friend relationships via every so often email/ phone calls, remembering birthdays of every under the sun, wirting thank you notes, paying the bills on time, dealing with the nanny, and managing to appear as though I am up on pop culture and fashion trends--there really isn't much time for sex. Too bad my DH hasn't figured that one out. When I am on vacation we still have tons of fun...what does that tell you about why I can't perform.
It is The Full Time Job ($) during the day and the fulltime job at night (no $) cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, cooking, the side gigs, schelping the kids, homework, etc. At least that's how it works here. ;)
It looks like "Slappy" will take on a whole new connotation.
I frittered away my libido doing hospital corners on the sheets. And cleaning vomit out of the gaps in the floorboards. I could go on?
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