Theme Park at its Darkest

I keep finding emails from ‘Slutfinder’ in my junk folder. I’m not so silly as to open them; god knows what’s going to come vaulting out of that particular Trojan horse when it springs open. I am curious to know, however, what the term really means.

‘Slut’ is a funny word and, in my experience, couldn’t be used to describe anyone that I’ve met. The simple definition of ‘slut’ that any of us can come up with is to say that a slut is a girl who fucks anyone at the slightest provocation. And if the pictures on ‘Slutfinder’ are anything to go by, they can be recognized as wolfish-looking corruptions of the Barbie-doll archetype.

I have always considered myself very lucky – and slightly confused – when any woman has condescended to sleep with me. For that reason, I probably slept with quite a few women early-on that I shouldn’t have, because the experience certainly didn’t live up to the hype – or prepare me for the fallout. After all, the only thing worse than doing something physically intimate you really don’t enjoy is to have to do it a second time in order to avoid hurting someone’s feelings.

That said, when I’ve slept with women very quickly it has always made them stand out in my estimation, or inspired me with a fear for their well-being that has compelled me to conceal my reaction, lest it alarm them.

I find that a lot of the time, women sleep with you immediately because they want to. They want the pleasure, they want the rush and have decided you’re the man for the job. That’s a hell of a responsibility to joyfully live up to. Why anyone would want to ascribe a derogatory term to someone who wants you is utterly beyond me. Most of the girls I have been in long-term relationships with slept with me on the first date. It was the result of overwhelming attraction.

The other kind of woman who sleeps with you instantaneously is one who seems to be asking for something you can’t determine and she can’t articulate, but has phrased her request in terms of a physical expression. This always alarms me deeply. And I worry for their welfare before and after I arrive.

Further, none of the women I’ve met look like the girls in the ads. Maybe that’s the key to it; the slut is a strange figment of someone else’s imagination.

This entry was posted on October 21, 2013 at 5:30 am and is filed under Journalism, Observation, Pornography, Pretensions toward cultural theory with tags barbie doll, slutfinder. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.