Michael Beitz - Avoid Conversation Table (2012)
Anonymous asked: Where do sexual fetishes come from? Are we just born with our fetishes? Are they a natural part of our personality? Are they formed by childhood experiences? Or do we simply choose them? -Opie
Everything has the potential to initiate sexual response. It is all rather Pavlovian. The reason that many fetishes seem so unusual is that they are formed during childhood and lost in memory. But, I suspect that all fetishes stem from circumstances in which objects and/or acts become associated with sexual arousal. For example, if you happened to have your genitals innocently stimulated by the movement of an up and down merry-go-round horse, you may develop a fetish for horses. And isn’t it interesting that one of the major fetishes is pony play?
I don’t buy into the phony holiday that is Thanksgiving. If you know anything about history, it is hard to forget the slaughter of the native people of America. However, I do think it is a good practice to take note of that for which one is thankful. And so, in my own corny way, I will do an alphabetical list of things for which I am thankful:
Family and friends
Super Mario Bros.
Yin & yang
"You know, you have to be real careful where you sit down in a bar these days" - Lou Reed, “The Power of Positive Drinking”
They say that NYC attracts the best of the best. There may be some truth in that. But, a far more obvious truth is that NYC attracts the worst of the worst. Other than perhaps Los Angeles, NYC is known to most as the Douchebag Capital of the United States. Now, don’t get me wrong. I love many things about the city. I lived there for nearly 8 years and had the best times of my life there. But I also had the worst times and met the worst people I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting - tourists and locals alike.
Toward the end of one of many lonely nights of drinking in an Irish pub in Queens, I was approached by two horrible men from some awful Eastern European country. They asked me what was wrong with American women. Then they asked me what was wrong with American beer, American business, and America in general. I just shrugged and said, “Well, that’s it for me. I’m heading home.”
Then one of the assholes GRABBED me and said I was not going anywhere until they bought me a drink. After they expressed their disdain for America, I was a little surprised and confused why they’d want to buy a drink for me, an American. I told them that I couldn’t possibly accept, but that I appreciated the offer. “You’re too good to have a drink with us,” the other asshole huffed.
"No, it’s not that," I replied.
"Then have a fucking drink with us," they demanded.
So, I let them buy me a whiskey, which I threw down my esophagus, and thanked them as I hurried on out. They actually stopped me at the door! “Excuse me, but we just bought you a drink. Don’t be a rude American. Buy us a drink,” they shouted.
"OK, sure. Let me have a smoke first. I’ll be right back in." I started to run away, but they came right back outside to check that I hadn’t left. Before they spotted me, I hid behind a dumpster. A woman walking her dog noticed me and looked at me as if to see if I needed help. I put my fingers to my lips and went "shhhhhhh." She took the hint and went on her way. The Eastern European assholes looked around for me, but soon gave up and went back inside the bar. And when they were back in the bar, I RAN. I RAN SO FAR AWAY! And then, I knew how A Flock of Seagulls felt.
As a true loner and a highly sensitive person, I need a good amount of quiet time alone with little or no stimulation. Having a house guest, especially one that is obnoxious, can be a living hell where one becomes prisoner in one’s own space.
Years ago, when I was living in Astoria, Queens, an old friend from childhood decided to pay me a visit, and she brought along her horribly annoying friend Ben, or “Gay Ben,” as he liked to be called, as he was in fact gay.
Thankfully, it was only a one-night stay, but it felt like a tortuous decade. The real purpose of the visit was so that Gay Ben could see his idol, Debbie Gibson (80s pop singer of “Shake Your Love" fame), perform at some club downtown. I was somewhat familiar with Debbie, or "Deborah" as she now insists on being called, as my sister was a big fan when Debbie Gibson’s music was part of the regular rotation on MTV back in the day. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about going, but it was something to do, and my friend was going as well, so it was a bit of a trap. I figured that it wouldn’t be so horrible to look at Debbie Gibson, as she looked good in Playboy:
Shortly after my friend and Gay Ben arrived, we got some dinner in my neighborhood. It took about a minute to realize that Gay Ben was out of control. He clearly suffered from untreated ADHD, and had a thing for randomly shouting “tits.” It was truly baffling and embarrassing. He probably shouted “tits” about 20 times during dinner. In NYC, that kind of thing can get you killed. But he did another thing that was equally irritating. He frequently asked my friend and I if we were mad at him. Now, I can’t speak for my friend, but of course I was mad at him! Being the overly polite person I am, I said, “nah.” But he kept asking! This shit went on all night.
So, we get to this small club downtown where Debbie is playing, and the crowd was depressing as hell. Lots of people in their 30s dressed up like teens from the 80s. Gay Ben stood proudly in line with his framed photo collage of pictures of Debbie, asking us about a hundred times if we thought that Debbie would like the collage. He planned on giving it to her after the show.
The show itself was bizarre. Long-time David Bowie bandleader and rhythm guitarist Carlos Alomar was on guitar! It was so depressing to see such a great musician play with such a third rate act. And the show featured a lot of pre-recorded music. The first half was all Broadway shit, and the second half featured her 80s pop hits. It was just horrible.
And after the show, Ben waited around to catch Debbie on her way out of the venue. When she finally emerged, Ben cut in front of a bunch of other people, tapped Gibson on the shoulder, and shoved the collage in her face. She was horrified, but she took the collage. Ben was pleased and completely unaware of how much he freaked her out. I thought I might die of embarrassment.
I took my friend and Gay Ben to a bar near my apartment for some drinks before bed, but Gay Ben was restless. He wanted to go to a gay bar and find someone to fuck. My friend and I were tired, and there no gay bars around that I knew of. So, Gay Ben went around to every stranger in the bar and asked where he could find a gay bar. No one could help him, but a few guys threatened to kick his ass. My friend and I went back to my apartment to sleep, but Gay Ben insisted on wandering around in search of a gay bar. So, we let him search. Around 4:00am, he phoned my friend and said he was lost. He ended up finding his way back to my apartment about an hour later, complaining that he hadn’t gotten laid.
I took Gay Ben and my friend to breakfast. As I nursed my hangover with an Irish breakfast, I contemplated killing Gay Ben. But, they left immediately after breakfast. I took a Klonopin and hid underneath my covers for the rest of the day.
Anonymous asked: What are your thoughts on facesitting?
Not a fan. For those that don’t know, facesitting generally refers to the act of a woman sitting on top of someone’s face to receive oral pleasure. I do not find this position ideal for cunnilingus, and there is a chance of suffocatioon. Plus, there’s something gross about the term itself. I don’t like it, but I suppose it could provide pleasure for a female that wants to dominate (or smother) her partner.
Anonymous asked: Have you ever been aroused by a haircut?
No, but I find it relaxing, depending on the hairdresser. Other times, I can feel trapped and nervous in the chair, especially while someone has scissors so near my face. I especially like having my hair shampooed by someone else, though. Makes my scalp feel all tingly.
Anonymous asked: Why do black people littter out of their car windows more than white people and asian people?
I have no data to support your assumption that this is even true, and even if it is true, this is question is a trap! It is a dangerous invitation into potentially awkward or hostile racial territory! I refuse to say anything more about this! As a scared white man with no money or power, I’m just going to slowly back away from this one!
Peace out, homey.
Anonymous asked: Does having morningwood every morning mean you're sexually frustrated?
Not necessarily. Morning wood is a universal male trait. It’s normal and healthy. Be glad that your dick is working!
And even if you’re sexually frustrated, well, you’re in good company! In the meantime, be thankful for the gift of masturbation!