I Find Your Lack Of Pants Disturbing

« August 2005 »
SuMoTuWeThFrSa
6
7
8
12
13
14
18
20
21
26
27
28

Memo to nerds: STOP TELLING ME ABOUT YOUR GENITALS.

I know I swore in the Manifesto that I wasn't going to get into defining terms, but one of the primary indicators of what separates a Bad Nerd from a Good Nerd is how they discuss their hobbies.

Good nerds only discuss their hobbies under two circumstances: when asked, and when reasonably sure that the hobby is both relevant to the current discussion and interesting to the audience.

Bad nerds talk about their hobbies at the drop of a hat. Any hat.

Which brings us to nerd genitalia, and the horrifying domain of the SEXNERD. The sexnerd has taken the obsessive-compulsive nature of General Nerddom and applied it to fucking in the exact same way others might apply it to a collectable card game. They want to get as many as they can, they want as many different types as they can, and they take it out of the plastic and show it to me at the most awkward times.

So I reiterate: Stop telling me about your genitals. Not the ones that are attached to you biologically, nor the ones you keep in a drawer. Stop telling me where they've been, how often they've been there, and how many different places they've been in the past week.

Stop telling me about your genitals' wardrobe. Stop telling me about your genitals' accessories. Stop telling me about any special habitats you may have constructed especially for your genitals.

Stop telling me about your genitals' "community" of fellow genitals. And most importantly of all, if you can't manage to do ANY of the above things, no matter how hard you try, I beg of you, PLEASE stop telling me about your genitals' philosophy.

I don't give a shit what your deal is. Furry, poly, S&M, plushie, infantilist, Klingon, Vampire LARP*, whatever. I know you've overthought an elaborate rationalization for what creams your Twinkie, but I also know that ninety-nine times out of a hundred, it's JUST an elaborate rationalization for what creams your Twinkie, and even if you don't realize that, I do.

Here's a hint. You don't have to justify your kink to people who DON'T KNOW ABOUT IT. Leave the fursuit in the bedroom and don't mention it to me over breakfast at Perkins until and unless I specifically ask you if, perhaps, you ever dressed up like an okapi while doing it.

And no, this does not mean "hiding who you really are", so shut the fuck up. I'm not saying you can't express whatever facets of your kink legitimately project themselves into the public arena. But there's a huge difference between going out to dinner with your three boyfriends on the one hand, and cornering me for an hour at a party so you can tell me how much better you are than everyone else because you're free of all that petty jealousy the monogamous people suffer through. One is living your life, the other is being an obnoxious sexnerd.

Sex has been around a long time. When it's all said and done, the odds of you coming up with something truly new and worth talking about are a lot bigger than 3,720 to 1. And if you do somehow manage it, odds are it's going to be really gross. So either way, please, just keep it in your pants, Sparky.

*All Vampire LARPers are in it to get laid. If you are a Vampire LARPer and are not in it to get laid, you're in the WRONG ROOM.