What's still taboo?

Dennis Miller has a funny line about this, actually. He was talking about how bored he would eventually get with the 72 virgins he would receive for being an Islamic suicide bomber.

"You know, sometimes I just want a woman who'll put a finger in my ass."

 

Who hasn't made the odd joshing remark about scat porn when exchanging niceties with elderly great-aunts while a few nieces and nephews frisked about nearby?

 

I think America kind of collectively and unconsciously made that call around '94 or so. Just like sometime in the early 80s, it no longer became acceptable to get into a drunken fight at the ballpark. In the late 70s, when I'd go to Brewers games, I'd see a fight in the stands every other game on average. A few years later, they were pretty much extinct.

Getting back to jerking off (eat your heart out, fun-with-quote fuckers!), I'll never forget a conversation I had with this matronly-looking, boring-as-fuck, zero-brains-in-her-head co-worker at a video store I worked at. The topic of masturbation education came up (this must have been during Clinton's first term with his first Surgeon General, whatever the fuck her name was, Dr. Joyce Somethingorother) and she got all squeamish.

I decided to strike a blow for masturbation. I asked her, what percentage of the population did she think masturbated? She pulled some bullshit like 15 percent. I told her to fuck off, what did she think the real percentage was? She said 50 percent or something, and I told her it was more like 90 percent. So if 90 percent of the population does it, why in the hell should we stigmatize it in society at large? She thought about it for a moment and begrudingly accepted my point.

Long story short, I'm taking credit for America's embrace of masturbation. Alexander Graham Bell had the telephone, I got that. Just sayin'.

 

Bubbler, you are the Booker T. Washington of spankin' it.

 

Jocelyn Elders.

 

I think, honestly, the wall fell down when girls started admitting masturbation. Then the floodgates opened on discussing it in public. I'll never forget as a sophomore in HS, 1994, this girl and I, during math class, were talking about her miserable dating life (she was a year older and way cooler than I was, but had no luck with the fellas) and she said something I'll never forget. "I'm just worried that any day now, masturbation is going to lose its thrill."

I was floored. You could have scraped my jaw off the industrial carpet.

And yet five years later, Britney Spears was writing songs about "The Touch of My Hand."

 

No love for Cyndi and "She Bop?"

 

I had a moment just like that too. Buddy of mine and I were in a physics class talking about the possibilities of flight when this one girl - the stereotypical straight-A+, glasses-wearing type who never talked with anyone but the teacher - leaned back and said "You know, with the right touch a girl can make herself fly."

I stood up and walked away. My buddy's jaw just dropped as he and her stared at each other. She giggled. I almost vomited.

 

When I worked in the Pepsi lab in the early 90s (yeah that's right ... I actually made Pepsi ... think about that if you were in the greater Cleveland area in about '92 or so ... then think about my acceptance of masturbation :-X), that topic came up. One guy, the coolest guy there among some total dickheads, admitted that he licked his wife's ass.

To a man, all of the other guys were either totally repulsed or give this guy loads of shit. One co-worker was so taken aback he admitted he wouldn't go down on his wife at all. Said something like, "I ain't eatin' where I put my fixin's, and I ain't fixin's where I'm eatin'", or some home-spun bullshit like that.

But I admired the ass-licker. He never backed down and he was proud of doing what he needed to do to pleasure his wife. Fucking A right, it's the way it should be.

 

They just showed a repeat of the anal sex episode on Sex and the City about half an hour ago. The one where Miranda has it, gets embarrassed and runs to catch up with the 9-mile group.
While not taboo, I'd say discussions about certain forms of cancer -- prostate, breast, ovarian -- make people uncomfortable. Maybe because it lends itself to questions you're wondering but would rather not ask: still have sex? get them cut off? how long to live?

 

God, I have never been so glad I moved in 1991 in my life.

 

And what about, "You Make Me Strum My Clit Like Earl Scruggs On Meth Banjo-Pickin' The Blue Ridge Mountain Breakdown" by Dolly Parton?