Not the act, the word, and why you are so darn scared to say it out loud. You used to win the penis game on the bus,what happened to you? When did you become this simpering pussy bitch?
I can’t solve all your problems. You need to see a therapist about the weakness that has taken hold of your life, but I can get you comfortable with saying sex.
If you aren’t saying sex, you are using one of the alternatives below and while some of them are more fun to say they may get you into some trouble given certain circumstances.
Picture going into a doctor’s office, you’re all nuded up and covered in drafty paper covering, and the doctor walks in. He is wearing shiny shoes, a bow tie, and his white coat is starched erect even after four hours of rigorous use.
He asks, “What seems to be the problem?”
You reply, “Well, recently, while fucking, I’ve noticed [insert unfortunate sexual issue], and I want that to stop.”
Your chart now says that you don’t have the mental capacity to understand the consequences of your actions, namely sex, so you are being treated with antibiotics for you unfortunate sexual issue and permanently sterilized for the good of humanity.
Look, ethics are hard and doctors get limited time to get to know patients, if you are going to use your face to face time with the man who controls the prescription pad saying dumb shit you deserve what you get. Sex is cool with doctors. Just say sex.
The Birds and the Bees
Back in the day when sitcoms were not filmed under the pretense of reality, there were a lot of “the birds and the bees” jokes. While pollination is important and we need to save the bees, if you’re addressing sex with a child who is old enough to comprehend that we don’t touch each other’s bathing suit areas without permission, and has maybe walked in on mommy and daddy “wrestling”, you need to call it sex.
It’s not cute when a college kid sits in the Human Sexuality class and discusses winkies and cookie jars as they pertain to the birds and bees. Don’t raise that child. So you’re uncomfortable with the word, big fucking whoop. I’ve seen professors weep tears of frustration because grown women don’t know that they don’t pee out of their vaginas, help you child. Don’t let them think the birds and the bees belong in any class other than zoology and ecology.
If you’re feeling romantic enough to get gussied up for white table clothes and wine that costs more than $9.82 for a bottle, you may also be feeling romantic enough for some post dinner dancing of the horizontal type. Cool, go for it. Just don’t try to get your partner going by whispering, “I want to bump uglies with you so hard.”
Unless this is a very specific thing for you this person, you just ruined a moment. Save yourself, tell them you want to make sweet sex to them, but keep it at a whisper, the night is young and your Uber driver has a long stretch ahead without that image bouncing about in their brain.
Your children are now old enough to spell so you can no longer be coy. You and their other parent want some alone time so Parent A shouts down the hall to Parent B to meet them in the bathroom for whoopie.
Unless you that one roommate I had in college who kept whoopie pies in her bathroom cabinets (and chips, and bread, you know, shower snacks) you best not talk about it in front of the offspring. Spelling aged children are like little sponges, they pick up everything so when you think you’re discussing something over their head, they either know exactly what’s going on or they think they do and they’re going to repeat it in an extremely embarrassing scenario.
If you want sex while the kids are home, that’s your business, this is why you had more than one kid isn’t it, so they could fight long enough for you to get some? The best way to go about this is to not yell about it within earshot of these spawns and maybe act like the adult you’ve been pretending to be so that they you can get sex with out blushing when you call it that.
As a child of divorce my youngest sister spent all of high school saying, “Your parents still have sex,” every time she needed a comeback (and the kid she was talking to had married parents). It’s a brilliant line. It sends shivers of disgust through the spines of teenagers who spend entire dances petting the pants of other heinous, awkward adolescents.
Now imagine if she said, “Your parents did it all for the nookie,” because she was trying to bring back Limp Bizkit while explaining the division of labor in this poor kid’s household. It doesn’t have the same power. Nookie involves frosted tips and soul patches, that shit belongs where we left it (which should have been the late 90s but I can’t guarantee that).
Get with the times, say sex. It’s powerful.