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  1. Yes this is again meant to be satire. I couldn't let what I deem to be a good joke pass. Some of the conversations have been changed slightly.

    Dear Internet at large,


    I recently tried to have sex with you, but you didn't answer my call. I tried and tried, and you sicked the Internet Police on me, like you didn't totally want it too. But internet, I want to get one thing straight with you; I am very horny, and I have a lot of time. I will have sex with somebody on the internet, no matter where or what they are. My virtual penis will go satisfied. I am like the horror movie cliché of horny teenagers; you can delay the inevitable, but I will get all up in that.


    Your inevitable lover,
    Mitchie.


    I think my warning was clear enough. Last time I came out disappointed, but today I'm getting shit done. Last time I was too timid, I was not assertive enough. I needed a new approach.




    Stranger: hey
    You: Hey stranger, take it off
    Stranger: nope
    You: Damn it...
    You: How are you immune to my sex rays?!
    Stranger: i dunnno
    You: Fuck, well... I guess I'll be on my way.


    I know what that looks like. That looks like a definite failure, but I was feeling optimistic, I can still save this ship. Clearly I just wasn't assertive enough, I was too passive in my sex-getting. It's like sitting on the subway and asking somebody to smell your finger; sometimes you just have to have enough initiative to stick your finger under their nose.


    You: Hey stranger, what are you wearing?
    Stranger: nothing but im a guy
    You: Oh hot.


    I was very frustrated at this point. This operation has taken me countless days, and in internet time, days are months. You know how blue your internet balls would be in months? I had to get some somewhere, and it was beginning to look like gay sex was my only answer. Might as well plunge right into my first gay experience rather than fret and worry about it, like a pussy would.



    "I am no pussy!" I told myself as I ripped my shirt open at the chest.


    You: Sex?
    Stranger: yeah
    You: Oh perfect, I'm ready.
    You: Let me put some mood music on for us.
    You: YouTube - ‪Barry White - Can't Get Enough Of Your Love Baby.‬‏


    I knew Barry White would have my back in all situations, including this one. Despite my willingness, I was still nervous, even though this wasn't a 'real' session and therefore not actually gay, I had never even regarded a man in such light. It was very strange and uncomfortable for me, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to lose my gay-ginity to a total stranger.


    Stranger: i just like to be slapped arounf like the hard core slut that i am
    You: Oh... well, I'm not really that kind of lover, I'm more of a tender kind of guy.


    My palms were sweating onto my keyboard, I almost thought about ringing it out so that I could type without my fingers sliding about like curling stones on a disgusting patch of sweat and plastic. The minutes felt like hours, waiting in anticipation at the answer my potential first gay encounter would give, whether he was disappointed or not. Then I realized it almost had been an hour, the guy was just sitting there in front of his keyboard, or something.


    You: hello?
    You: Fuckdamnit! Why does this keep happening?!


    In the end, it didn't work out with my first boy toy, but he will be remembered fondly. I didn't let the failure get the best of me, however. This is a great wide internet we live in. Someone, somewhere on this great length of wires and servers must want to fuck me.


    You: Hey stranger
    You: I'm 19, male, Canadian, ever so horny
    Stranger: yes
    Stranger: fuck me


    Victory has been achieved. The world was more enlightened now; Now that I have discovered there is sex on the internet, and I did it for science!


    You: :) Wait just a second, tell me about yourself?
    Stranger: great
    Stranger: how u ll fuck me


    Well, maybe not? This felt wooden and wrong. This wasn't sex, this was a person demanding soulless internet thrusts from me, and I didn't believe they had earned it. Who does he or she think he or she is? Is there no romance or chivalry left in the world? When I meet somebody and want to have a one night stand with them, I don't just proclaim “Yes. Fuck me!” It's not how things work. People have nuances and desires that need to be explored; how can I have sex – the ultimate act of vulnerability between two people – with somebody as cold and unfeeling as this. When I fuck a stranger in real life, I have the decency of not making them feel like they fucked a cardboard box.


    You: Well, I have no idea if you're a woman or a man or something in between.
    Stranger: i m f
    Stranger: 18
    You: From where, hot stuff?
    Stranger: uk
    Stranger: now how colud u do that
    You: :) A hot little brit, that's sexy
    You: I've always wanted a british girl for myself.
    Stranger: yes
    Stranger: so now wats up??
    Stranger: babe


    I couldn't take it. This person wasn't human. I didn't desire this person, in fact I loathed them at this point; It was as if I was being punished for looking for casual sex on the internet with the worst casual sex you could ever have on the internet. It's like if you were walking in a desert, looking for water and you found an oasis entirely filled with mucus. This person didn't understand the fundamentals of sex, the act of two people letting their bodies communicate, but rather wished I'd do everything. It felt wrong, stupid, pointless and cruel.


    You: Are you fucking shitting me? Honestly. Do you know what it's like to be human? I've been sifting through conversations for hours to have sex with somebody and you just sit there telling me to fuck you? Don't you think I deserve better than that? What are you made of fucking tin or some shit? HOW AM I TO FUCK THE UNFUCKABLE?!
    Your conversational partner has disconnected.


    Exhaustion had leaked my body and my mind of its essence. It wasn't me delivering strokes to the keyboard at that point; I was a shell of lost hopes. If my mother would have walked in, she either would have not recognized me or believed I was murdered by the very concept of depression. Beauty didn't exist to me in that moment in time, and if I would have died then, I would have waved good bye to a fruitless and ugly world. And then hope reared it's head, and showed me that beauty leaves no one behind.


    You: Hey stranger
    Stranger: hiya
    You: I'm a guy, 19, Canadian
    Stranger: oh okayz
    You: How about you, if you don't mind me asking?
    Stranger: well im 22 female
    Stranger: from new york
    Stranger: trying to find a sweet guy


    Hope reared her beautiful, merciful head, and she was twenty two, female and from New York. Hope sought a sweet guy, and I felt it deep in my heart, that perhaps I still owned sweetness. I still knew sweetness.


    You: Seek no more!
    You: YouTube - ‪Barry White - Can't Get Enough Of Your Love Baby.‬‏
    You: How ya doin'?


    It was almost impossible to not say all this aloud, as well as raising my eyebrow.


    Stranger: what?
    Stranger: u trying to seduce me ?
    Stranger: sounds like a good diea
    Stranger: idea
    Stranger: soo entertain me sexy
    Stranger: show me what im missing babe
    You: Not really sure what I can do in my power to show you what you're missing, sugar.

    Stranger: well get me horny for starters
    You: I believe the Barry White should do it's job.
    Stranger: eh i wanna know what u would doo to me


    Hope had a beautiful, caring, merciful face, yet I didn't feel she was there for me. She was there for somebody who could get satisfaction out of typing dirty words at a stranger. It didn't feel right, and as much as I would hate making my entire search meaningless, who was I to force something I couldn't feel?



    You: You know what? I've been at this for too long.
    You: It's granted me nothing.
    You: I need a real woman.
    You: good luck, have a good day.
    Stranger: awww
    Stranger: i am a real woman
    Stranger: show m what im missing babe
    Stranger: i wanna feel u inside me ^_--
    You: I mean real to me. Not just words on a screen. My heart belongs to somebody else, and that is a woman of flesh and blood. I hope you find what you came here to find. I know I didn't.
    You have disconnected.
  2. I just wrote this out of boredome. Some of the points are pretty obvious and this whole blog might be misguided. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

    I'm relatively new to the world of sex, having only four or so years under my belt and six notches on my bedpost. I'm no expert, but I've learned enough to know that...

    No Woman is the Same...
    And by extension, no man is either. Secret moves and signature thrusts that drive one partner of yours wild may leave another cold. Sex for me has become a more personalized experience over the years because I wish to be the absolute best for any woman I become involved with, yet I know that...

    You Will Never Be Everybody's Ideal Partner...
    I had a girlfriend for a year and a half, and we were a perfect match sexually. Neither of us were ever unsatisfied with each other, as we just seemed to be perfect jigsaw puzzle pieces for each other in that regard. Then I met another woman who absolutely embarrassed me, and proved that I just wasn't the right fit for her.

    Sex for the Sake of Sex is Very Hard to Do...
    At least it was for me; when I have sex, I like to experience somebody's body and get lost in it all. That's how I get my pleasure; by feeling like I learned something about my partner's body. This means that I usually find myself very strongly attached to said partner by the end of the experience.

    Losing One's Virginity is Almost Always Terrible:
    I lost my virginity at a campsite, while terribly drunk, with a partner who demanded more, even though she eventually vomitted into her sleeping bag because of the sickening motion. Nobody's first time is ideal, be it embarrassingly short or terrifyingly tense, rarely do you hear of somebody being entirely satisfied by their first encounter.

    Don't Expect your Partner Not to Kiss and Tell...
    I'm actually a bit turned on when a partner brags about me to her friends, and I've had enough compliments about my prowess and endowment to be completely comfortable with myself. Unfortunately, girls and guys do talk, and it's not always flattering. Try and take this in stride.

    Usually People Have Sex With You For A Reason...
    I find it repulsive when a guy will talk of a woman after he had sex with her as if he "conquered" her. As if it weren't bad enough to prove to this woman that she was wrong to trust him, the men who do this seem to have the idea that everybody is completely aware of their little song and dance and anybody who falls for it is an idiot. I also find it ironic that these men deem having sex with themselves an insult to the other person's taste.

    Everybody Needs to be a Little Less Terrified of Sex...
    At least in the Americas. When you play a video game now a days, you'll see plenty of gore all over the screen, but the moment sex is discussed in a game, the media loses it's collective mind and calls it a "sex simulator." Fox news especially throws around this word, as if having sex were a bad thing, and much worse than the viseral acts of violents that the "children" (I put children in quotation marks because violent games aren't marketed to children) commit through their virtual counterparts. Violence is less demonized than the act of taking a relationship to it's natural and logical conclusion, and that is absolutely a travesty in my eyes.
  3. This is me trying to be funny. It is long and stupid and barely relates to sex, but I hope you enjoy it.

    The internet is a strange place. You may find love while raiding a dungeon with your guild, or you may form an enlightened political opinion from countless of sources. The internet has an equivalent for just about everything in real life, because the people who made the internet thought to themselves; “Everything is just a little bit too hard to hide from my wife.”


    Enter Omegle; for any of you unfamiliar, omegle is the internet equivalent of going to an Arby's bathroom and knocking on a stall and asking a person their gender and location. Omegle lets you connect with one person entirely anonymously and speak to them. However, I don't just want to speak to these people.


    No, I want to diddle these people. I want to get all up in their privates and such. If omegle is the equivalent of going to an Arby's bathroom and looking for a friend in there, then what I'll be doing tonight is the equivalent of soliciting sex at the same Arby's bathroom.


    Omegle is simple enough to use; you just type in the address and choose between simply communicating through text or adding video to the mix. There's no real security or TSA to rub you down on the way in, which in this case is very unfortunate for me, because of my aforementioned mission to diddle somebody. I chose text chat because I felt it would be more sensual than just watching men masturbate.


    My first conversation went nowhere, naturally, but the embers of hope were lit nonetheless.


    You (Myself): Hey stranger, hoping for a diddling?
    Stranger: hi... wat?
    You: Oh don't worry about it. Lets just see where this goes, sexy thang.
    Stranger: m/f?
    You: I am female, yourself?


    I lied about my gender because I assumed it would be the easiest way to get sex on omegle. I am not cruising for a fuck I'd enjoy, but any sort of fuck. Honestly, if you're soliciting sex in the bathroom, you have to make sure you keep your odds of succeeding at the highest they could possibly be, and my reasoning was that there are much more males looking to place their penis in something than females desiring to have penis placed within themselves. Unfortunately, my cunning and slightly sexist plan backfired.


    Stranger: female
    Stranger: from?
    You: I'm from Canada, yourself?
    Stranger: U.K
    You: Do you mind if I ask if you're into the ladies or boy toys? Who do you like to get all up on?


    I tried to play it cool, but hiding the fact that I was nervous was proving difficult; I had gotten myself into this mess, and now I had to feign femininity. I can't just lie and then tell her I am actually a male, then she would think I'm dishonest. I am not dishonest. Just lonely. Unfortunately, the young lady didn't fall for my charms, and disconnected. This gave me time to learn from this mistake and grow as a lover on the internet. On to greener internet love pastures I marched, finding nothing, until five or six conversations later.


    You: Hey stranger, what are you wearing?
    Stranger: hiiiiiiiiiiiii
    You: Woo, you're excited, that's good, me too!


    I noticed a recurring trend on omegle; Occasionally people would enter the conversation with way too many vowels. It's as if vowels were a symbol of good will on the internet, while too many exclamation points were a gesture of deep, burning, smouldering, festering hatred.




    You: My name's Mitchell, I'm from Canada.
    Stranger: how r u sexy
    You: A lot better now, hot stuff.
    Stranger: i m ankita
    Stranger: from india
    You: Oh whoa, that's really awesome, I've never met anybody from India. That's a really beautiful name, I may name my first born after you.


    This woman was impersonal and uncaring of what I told her. I could have said literally anything to her and the conversation would have stayed on the exact same track. It was this disconnection that made me rethink my approach and attempt to accelerate our relationship.


    Stranger: how r u
    You: I am well, I'm looking for loving, however.


    This didn't work; She left me. I offered her my shivering hand and she cast it aside, as if I meant nothing to her. How could she do this? She had just called me sexy! I felt used and cheap, like a step mother would after she found out her step son's friend was hiding a camera during the entire sexual encounter.


    I wiped the tears off my face and kept looking for somebody's virtual touch. Perhaps it was all in vain, perhaps I didn't know how to find somebody to love in this great Arby's bathroom that is the internet. Either way, I had to find somebody, even if I was just there to find myself.


    Of course, if you sit in a bathroom stall, knocking on the neighbouring stall and asking to diddle the person therein, the police may eventually show up to arrest you for being a pervert.


    You: Hey stranger danger
    Stranger: We are the Internet-Police like us on facebook and help us get fags and trolls off omegle!
    You: Oh God are you serious? I've done nothing wrong!


    You know how embarrassing it would be to get caught being loose and promiscuous on the internet? Imagine how ashamed my mother would be. She would tell me I'm just like that pervert from Wham.


    Stranger: im just asking u to like us on facebook to get faggots off omegle.


    I was appalled. Flabbergasted, if you will, that the police would be so outwardly bigoted in public. There was no shame or irony in their already horrid statement; I felt I had to defend the gay community.


    You: But what if I am a fag? What then you, monstrous, insensitive piece of fuck? Your head is so far up your ass that your shit has tooth marks. Your doctor gets violent flashbacks about your ass when he looks at roadkill on the highway, you miserable ass wipe.
    Stranger:get the fuck off omegle u fag
    You: You can't do this! This is unlawful and wrong! You are abusing your power! Police brutality. Police brutality!


    I escaped before the Man could track my IP address, and turned off my router for a while. Even if the police tracked me down and decided to punish me for disrespecting an officer, I had the first amendment and documentation of his or her malpractice on my side. One thing was for sure; I hadn't found sex on omegle, at least, not yet. My search shall continue when the coast is clear.