Growing up sex was a very taboo subject. My mother felt uncomfortable around the mere thought of it and the thought of me potentially having it with some girl she didn’t approve of. For years I was so naïve when it came to sex that I had to resort to something made of pure, unadulterated evil (according to my mom) called the internet. With a little help from school I soon learned a lot about sex. A lot more than my mom would probably ever want to know or care to know that I know. I looked at everything with wonder, my eyes consistently wide and dilated or my head cocked to the side.

Now? I’m a fucking pervert. I can’t really blame the internet and it would be folly to do so. All it really did for me was open my eyes and let me see the possibility of enjoying things I never would have thought. Like guys. Just kidding, I always liked guys, even as far back as my memory goes. I just liked to deny it and continue to stare at boys in their cute little Catholic school uniforms. Nonetheless the internet had broaden my sexual horizons for better or worse.

I’m into some typical “kinky” things like spanking and biting and dirty talk. Then I’m into things considered a little “extreme” by the mainstream like caning and flogging and I even have a hint of interest in non-consensual role-playing. The only problem is that it’s hard to find someone who shares my interests but doesn’t take themselves seriously. And let me tell you: that shit is hard. In the gay world you put up with so many “total dominant tops” and “total submissive bottoms” that you want to just rake your eyes out with a trowel. People think they have to put themselves into an exclusive role and all it does is make me want to grab a martini and shake my head while casually smoke my cigarette with an arrogant air about me. But don’t worry I like other weirder, more bizarre things like furries and traps.

What’s a furry? Well, if you don’t know, don’t ask. You’re better off not knowing about that because furries run a very large gamut in the fetish category from a rather large number of foot fetishists to people into dressing up in fursuits (or mascot suits if you can’t figure it out) and having sex. I know plenty of furries who feel that the only way to enjoy sex to its fullest is to dress up as an anthropomorphic animal and fuck their way to victory. I don’t judge, I like the art a little too much.

What’s a trap? Well, if you’re someone who is not offended by the word and knows what it is, that saves this step. If you don’t know what a trap is, it is simply a guy who can very convincingly pass off for a woman and likes to trap guys into having sex. Not all of them do it, but some do and hence the term “trap” being used. I like traps simply because I enjoy the look of femininity. I also love the fact that many traps seem to always have gigantic dicks. The reasoning behind that is beyond me.

But looking into the denizens of the internet and sexuality, I can’t help but find some levity in their lives. Time and time again I see furries post pornographic images and videos of themselves and someone else (or several other people) and not even think about how they look. Guilty of this as I may be, it is still ludicrous. Many people post thinking that they are the sexiest thing to ever walk the earth while any normal person who sees the image or video thinks “Good god, the whales are mating with the orangutans!”

Apart from the looks of the denizens flaunting their sexuality comes another problem that only furries, otaku, and comic book nerds know of: the hygiene. Hygiene seems to be a fleeting concept to many of these people. For what reasons I do not know but all I know is that if you want to see a bunch of horny neckbeards turn a place into the Battle of Helm’s Deep, throw some soap and water on the herd. Just make sure you have some place safe to be or else you will be killed faster than a lion in a stampede in a Disney movie.

In a way, though, it is admirable at how confident some of these people are. They think they’re sexy, act like they’re sexy, and don’t give a flying shit about what anyone thinks. If you don’t like it, then whatever, they don’t care. But if you happen to get some of the more…fragile crowd, then they go full retard and start accusing you of being hateful and start whining about how they have Asperger’s and that you should show them kinder attention.

Now turning to a different subject, though only slightly, I wish I had more time to do things I want to do. My ex used to go to the Folsom Street Fair in San Francisco when I lived with him and I never got to go. I had to stay at work while he got to stare at cute guys in assless chaps while men in fake police outfits walked nude twinks with dog masks and buttplugs with tails on them. Needless to say the jealousy raged inside of me. I wanted to be apart of this crazy BDSM and leather festival, this bizarre drug- and alcohol-filled bacchanal of carnal delights, this grand sausagefest with a few fish running around staring. Every gay man deserves to at least experience that once with his other gay friends while they take turns sucking each other off with wild fag hags flying their brooms around the sky while Satan takes a piss on some random church. You know, the usual! At least I’m sure that’s most of what happens. I have to make sure I give a Catholic perspective on things from time to time.

However I think things are moving forward more positively now. My sex life is non-existent, my friends and ex are still going to Folsom, and I’m still turning my head at fat, downs syndrome looking men wearing diapers and taking dumps on stuffed animals. I have to say if I ever hit rock bottom in the sex department then I think the world would turn topsy-turvy and I’d probably be someone’s baby daddy.