I Come From a Land Down Under

November 25, 1998

Last night, a woman at a party told me that her five-year-old son had recently taken up the habit of humping adults' legs. "Apparently he's discovered that rubbing up and down makes it feel good down there" she told me. She was perplexed as to what she should do.

"Tell him to rub more slowly" I thought to myself. "It feels much better that way."

I found her account very fascinating because it shed light on the problem that has tormented me all of my life--but specifically this year being surrounded by the millions of the most beautiful women in the world.

I, like the woman's son, have discovered that is does feel good--very good--to rub down there. Consequently, I would like to hump the leg of pretty much every girl that I see. I would say that I am a sexaholic, but that would imply that I had a condition shared by only a few. As the story of my party friend's son demonstrates, all men have a biological inclination toward making it feel good down there.

And yet, we are also thinking, caring beings. We study history and music. We build bridges and microchips. Could it be that we work so as to get our minds off of what we'd rather be doing, i.e. making it feel good down there? Do we build the bridge to get the money to buy the car to attract the woman who has the leg on which we can rub so as to make it feel good down there?

Last week it dawned on me that if I talk to a girl more than twice, I will probably ask her out. The yearning to make it feel good down there overwhelms me. It clouds my judgement, sucks the money right out of my wallet, exhausts my free time, and whittles away my dignity as I find myself saying the stupidest things and putting up with so much crap just on the off chance that some girl will allow me the use of her equipment so as to make it feel good down there.

By using the phrase "use of her equipment" does that imply that I see women as sex objects? "Sex outlets" would be the description I'd use, but to answer the question, yes, I do see women as sexual beings first.

Should I feel bad about that? Should women feel upset about that? As the five-year-old boy demonstrates, I was born with the desire to make it feel good down there. How realistic is it to think that that will go away? The likelihood of my libido diminishing is about the same as my blue eyes turning brown.

So what is a man to do? I love music and books and the theater and good conversation and fine food and travel and learning more about God--all the refined things a gentleman is supposed to do. But I also think about making it feel good down there about every seven seconds.

I don't want to be a cad. I don't want to suffer any more indignities as a result of my natural condition. This is one time where I don't have some catchy ending to a story. I really don't know what to do. It's maddening sometimes.

It's often hard being a man. And man, am I tired of often being hard.

Broadway Jim Sosnicky

		I Come From a Land Down Under
		November 25, 1998 Last night, a woman at a party told me that her five-year-old son had recently taken up the habit of humping adults' legs. "Apparently he's discovered that rubbing up and down makes it feel good down there" she told me. She was perplexed as to what she should do. "Tell him to rub more slowly" I thought to myself. "It feels much better that way." I found her account very fascinating because it shed light on the problem that has tormented me all of my life--but specifically this year being surrounded by the millions of the most beautiful women in the world. I, like the woman's son, have discovered that is does feel good--very good--to rub down there. Consequently, I would like to hump the leg of pretty much every girl that I see. I would say that I am a sexaholic, but that would imply that I had a condition shared by only a few. As the story of my party friend's son demonstrates, all men have a biological inclination toward making it feel good down there. And yet, we are also thinking, caring beings. We study history and music. We build bridges and microchips. Could it be that we work so as to get our minds off of what we'd rather be doing, i.e. making it feel good down there? Do we build the bridge to get the money to buy the car to attract the woman who has the leg on which we can rub so as to make it feel good down there? Last week it dawned on me that if I talk to a girl more than twice, I will probably ask her out. The yearning to make it feel good down there overwhelms me. It clouds my judgement, sucks the money right out of my wallet, exhausts my free time, and whittles away my dignity as I find myself saying the stupidest things and putting up with so much crap just on the off chance that some girl will allow me the use of her equipment so as to make it feel good down there. By using the phrase "use of her equipment" does that imply that I see women as sex objects? "Sex outlets" would be the description I'd use, but to answer the question, yes, I do see women as sexual beings first. Should I feel bad about that? Should women feel upset about that? As the five-year-old boy demonstrates, I was born with the desire to make it feel good down there. How realistic is it to think that that will go away? The likelihood of my libido diminishing is about the same as my blue eyes turning brown. So what is a man to do? I love music and books and the theater and good conversation and fine food and travel and learning more about God--all the refined things a gentleman is supposed to do. But I also think about making it feel good down there about every seven seconds. I don't want to be a cad. I don't want to suffer any more indignities as a result of my natural condition. This is one time where I don't have some catchy ending to a story. I really don't know what to do. It's maddening sometimes. It's often hard being a man. And man, am I tired of often being hard. Broadway Jim Sosnicky