Sliding Into My DMs Part 2

sexy nun reads instagram direct messages

Men Love Sliding Into My DMs

or

Some of Your Most Popular Sex Questions Answered

As many of you know I’ve not been able to upload YouTube videos for two weeks due to another strike on my account. It was my fault and I have done my time. Anyway here’s a video of me answering some of your most pressing direct messages.

P.S.

Try more than a “heyyy” . . . just saying.

men who slide into Direct messages

What do you do? I’m interested in your services if I think it’s what I’m thinking…
Can I pay you to have sex with me?

What a great question! Here’s the deal. It’s actually illegal in the United States to get paid to have sex with a person. I know, I know, there are plenty of people who do it and more power to them. Personally, I think sex work should be legalized. It would cut down on a lot of violence and sexual health issues because it would be better regulated. Plus, let’s take for a second to recognize all the people with disabilities, both physically and mentally that make it difficult for them to find partners. There’s nothing wrong with being a sexual being or paying to have sexual gratification. It’s not called the oldest profession for nothing. Legally though, I have to decline this offer. If you want to pay me for my time, totally different story, it’s called consulting.

when men have a question

Hey I have a question

Okay. Ask it.

older women interested in younger women

Do you like younger men?

I get asked this a lot. Like all the time. And as I’ve said many many times before age, race, gender, I don’t care about that. What I do care about is your personality. If you have a terrible personality I’m not going to want to have any sort of relations with you; I know this because I have gone out with and even slept with, plenty of people with terrible personalities and I’m trying to un-do, un-learn old bad habits and patterns.

men horny


What a man gotta do to get frisky??!

I’d suggest perhaps indulging in some aphrodisiacs–chocolate, oysters, avocado. Perhaps watch some softcore porn. Maybe go down a deep Instagram hole where you discover pics and videos of people doing things that make you feel sexy. I’m not really sure what most men do to get frisky, I guess I always assumed it came naturally to them, but I get that some people regardless of gender have a harder time getting turned on.

Thanks for the messages, everyone. As you can imagine I do not have time to answer them all, but I appreciate you trying anyway. Every once in a while there’s a chance that I could get back to you, either here or privately. Thanks for reading and watching and don’t forget to follow me on Patreon for more (and yes I mean for pics of my tits if that’s what you’re really looking for).

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Tits Out Truth Bombs Tuesday: Falling Out of Love with Denver + Giving Up the Booze

alcohol abuse and living in denver

Is Denver Becoming Too High Maintenance?

or

When You Change One Thing You May Need to Change Them All

My favorite running path in Denver takes me through City Park, where I always stop at Duck Lake to look at the black birds (double-crested cormorants) that perch in huge nests which sit atop these twisted goth trees. These are migrating birds. They leave in the fall and return in the spring. When they returned this year I told everyone that I too was going to take off when they took off in the fall. I only half-meant it when I said it back then.

Now it’s almost fall and the birds are half gone already.

Before I even got to Duck Lake today I could feel the shift. It was way too quiet. The leave of absence hit me harder than I expected it to. I couldn’t believe it was already happening.

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I recently decided I needed to take a break from drinking. Luckily I haven’t hit rock bottom yet and I hope I can keep it together enough that I never do. I do know that I abuse alcohol. Or it abuses me. Perhaps we have this weird BDSM switch-like relationship going on, I don’t know. I’m not typically even an over-indulger. I can say no to cake. I can say no thanks to cookies. But when it comes to beer I’m like “Give Me! Give Me! Give Me ALL of the BEER!!”

Damn, I love beer.

It’s only been three days. I know three days is nothing to almost all human beings who are not alcoholics, but it’s a lot for people who are alcoholics and plenty for those (like me) who are alcohol abusers. Yet, during these this three-day break from alcohol I’ve been thinking about how I might actually have to leave Denver.

I’m not sure this city is a healthy place for me to be. I think it would be really easy for me to fall back into old habits.; to go out and repeat the same sort of stories over and over. I’m tired of those stories. I’m tired of going to bars, having one-night stands, waking up feeling like shit, eating fried foods just to make it through the day, popping pills that will help me focus, gain energy, and get work done, repeating the same stupid shit all over again.

Also, I may be falling out of love with Denver.

Just like people change and grow so to do cities. Perhaps I’ve learned enough from this place; perhaps it’s time for the basic bitches to take my place as they are making their way here in droves (and honestly I’m over interacting with them).

I don’t know where I’d go. I don’t even know who I am or what I want to be anymore.

I don’t feel lost. I feel misplaced. I know exactly where I am I just don’t know why I’m here.

I’m also a bit burnt out on always writing about sex. I know it’s what you all want, but it’s not what I want. I want more. I want to explore the depths of humanity–body and soul, not just how far you can fit something up a vagina.

So I will be doing that. Of course, I’ll still write about sex stuff. But summer is over. The birds are headed south. It’s time to get shit together. Perhaps even fly somewhere new.

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Thirsty Thursday: Whiskey Drinking Problems Blues

woman with the blues drinking whiskey

Sometimes a glass of bourbon is exactly what the doctor ordered

Or

Bulleit Bourbon Whiskey to the Rescue

Alright, world. Here’s the deal. I met someone. We hit it off. Then it got rather turbulent and we are currently on a break.

I haven’t been talking about it because I am not sure if I’m even seeing all of the events from the past couple of months that clearly.

I met this thoughtful and kind man at an after-hours party a few months ago. A big group of us left the after-hours party and continued to party well into the next afternoon. Queens and queers and freaks and weirdos were all gathered at my house. We drank every last drop of alcohol we had here and then we went and got more. We raged.

That kind of raging was fun.

The other kind of rage, not so much.

Turns out the guy that I really got into has an even bigger temper than me. This is saying a lot. If you’ve followed any of my past writing you might recall that I’ve done a lot of work trying to overcome my anger (you can even read all about it in the article I wrote titled, Republicans, Rapists, Real Women: How I’m Reprogramming Anger).

We’re both fire. Short-fused. Competitive.

Of course, we’re also both thoughtful, compassionate, kind (he maybe more so on the last trait).

A series of anger-induced incidents was the last straw for me.

I can’t handle feeling powerless. I can’t handle always being on the defensive. I can’t handle being one-up’ed every single time I ever tell a story. It becomes exhausting.

 

He’s told me that he loves me. He’s told me I’m his world. Yet, how can I let someone in that can turn on a dime and act out irrationally at random intervals?

Believe me, I know I am not perfect. I am cranky (particularly in the morning). I am stubborn. I suffer from resting bitch face.

I’m also weird. I read a lot, which doesn’t necessarily make me smart but it makes me smarter than I used to be. I have the sense of humor of a thirteen-year-old boy. I take pics with over-sized phallic-shaped foods on a regular basis. I don’t shower as much as I probably should. I can compartmentalize. I can be cold. I can be the life of the party or not want to be around anyone at all.

So yes, it takes a strong soul to handle me.

I also can only handle so much myself and what I cannot tolerate are unnecessary outbursts, temper tantrums, failing to communicate both the logistics of specific situations as well as feelings etc. connected to them.

No one should be in a relationship where they fear how the other person will respond or fear how they could snap at something small at any moment. If you can’t handle little issues then the big ones are going to be hella hard.

So this Thirsty Thursday, I drink a drink to honor all that we had and all that we could have. I’m not giving up completely, but I am distancing myself to better understand my own needs/wants/desires while he does the same. Anger is an energy and when put to proper use it can help change the world for the better, but if it’s anger that reveals itself as unnecessary rage, well that just hurts the entire world and all the people directly (and indirectly) who witness it.

May you quench your thirst on this Thursday and every other day. Thanks for reading my love life update, now go eat a carrot already!

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Tits Out Truth Bombs Tuesday: Smelly Vaginas

smelly vaginas yeast infections bacterial infections

The Case of Feminine Odor Gone South

or

What To Do When Your Nose Says Not to Do It

The other day a friend sent me a question about a touchy (or shall we shall off-putting situation). Here’s what he had to ask:

“What is the least cringe-worthy way to tell a woman that one time her vagina smelled particularly bad and you haven’t been able to look at it / her the same since, and that’s why you haven’t been initiating as much lately?”

My very first reaction was to stick my fingers down my pants, give my vagina a good rub, then smell my fingers. My vagina smelled like vagina; thank the vagina goddesses! Anyway, the thing is, vaginas / vulvas are super sensitive. It doesn’t take much to throw off the pH balance. When the pH balance of the vagina is off anything could be happening. This person could have a yeast infection, a bacterial infection, an STI, or it could just be having an off day and is attempting to adjust back to normal.

So, how do you approach someone you’re sleeping with to let them know that their nether regions are not up to par?

Is there a way to do this without sounding like a dickhead?

Perhaps it’s best to consider how you would want someone to tell you and go from there?

Kindness
Compassion
Understanding

“Hey, we’ve fooled around a few times and I’ve really enjoyed myself. I understand what I’m about to say is a bit awkward and might make us both feel a little uncomfortable but the last time we had sex I noticed that your odor was a bit off and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay down there?”

Here’s the thing if you are a person and you have a smellier than usual vagina.

Do NOT douche.

Go to the doctor and have it checked out. Douching will just throw the pH balance off even more. It’s really not that big of a deal; it’s all part of being human. Being able to openly communicate with the people you’re fucking is kind of important. If you’re not communicating with your words and you’re only communicating with your genitals you’re probably not going to get very far with regards to any sort of relationship– serious or just for fun.

So open your mouths and get to talking. You nose what I’m saying?

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Tits Out Truth Bombs Tuesday: My Embarrassing First Kiss Story

first kiss embarrassing story

 

The First Time Isn’t Always the Best Time

Or

Real Life True Story of a First Kiss

As many of you know, I’m back home in the lovely oppressively humid state of Kansas. I’ve been getting out and about and my adventures have brought so many memories to the surface. I thought it would only be fair to share some stories that proved I was not always an expert in (and out) of the bedroom.

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Since today is all about telling some truth, I want to tell you about my first kiss.

I wish I had my journals here with me because I’m pretty sure I made it sound SUPER romantic, slightly cheesy, very cute.

Here’s what I remember.

I was 15 (I know, I was old for a first kiss, but I was also quite picky about boys as a teenager). It was late fall, I had been “going out” with a guy for a couple of weeks, let’s call him M. There was some evening teen activity at the high school that we were all at. Somehow M and I snuck away. We walked down to the nature trail behind all the buildings. This was the trail the science teachers used to teach us about the birds and the bees and stuff.

Well, we had our own way of learning about . . . stuff.

We held hands.

Sweaty hands.

We hiked through it until we were right in the middle where no one could see us.

The stars could see us.

The moon could see us.

The Gods could see us.

And we could see them.

I was nervous. I knew what was going to transpire. My best friend had gotten an earlier start, which pissed me off because she was supposed to be the goody-goody and I was supposed to be the rebel. There was no time to waste. It had to be right then.

We turned to face each other. We both stood there like assholes. He leaned in. I leaned in. The world leaned in.

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Our lips were touching!

Wow.

He pulled me closer.

Our tongues were touching.

Oh, my!

There was at least one or two twirls of our tangoing tongues.

He pulled back.

I pulled back.

The world pulled back.

“That’s what all the hype is about?” I thought.

He took my hand and we walked back to the school.

Everyone knew.

They could see it on our faces.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

You’re waiting for the embarrassing part, aren’t you?

Fffinnneee. Here it goes. We were Freshman when this first kiss thing happened. We broke up maybe a week or two after the incident but remained sex-tension friends for the remainder of high school. I’ll always remember M as the only man who ever sent me flowers. Seriously. In my entire life, he was the only one and I think he jinxed me. I broke up with him one evening, then the next day at school I got flowers delivered to me. Turns out he had already ordered them and couldn’t cancel the delivery. The card read, “I love you.”

I was horrified.

Anyhoo. I digress.

Years later, senior year to be exact. We’re fight-flirting as per usual. We’re all reminiscing about all our years spent together in that shit hole school. I’m not exactly sure how it even comes up, but in front of our entire group of friends, M, tells everyone that the night we first kissed, MY FIRST KISS, I kissed him, “like a fish.”

LIKE A FISH.

I KISSED LIKE A FISH.

I had NO IDEA! I thought it was a decent first kiss. I thought I had it ALL figured out. I thought I was queen of the lip smack patty whack. Princess of the pucker. I could not have been further from that truth.

And maybe he was already a little pick-up-artist. Perhaps he was feeding on my weaknesses. Could have been he knew I hated to lose or to be bad anything, but I turned to him and said, “Well, I don’t kiss like that anymore.”

Did I prove him wrong?!? Only the birds and the bees know the answer to that.

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Tits Out Truth Bombs Tuesday: Happy National Orgasm Day!

3 ways to enhance your orgasm

3 Ways to Enhance Your Big O

or

Cum So You Can Go (Again)

Happy National Orgasm Day! Orgasms (or orgasims like half the population spells when looking it up on google) are pretty much my favorite thing. At least when I think about my favorite things they almost all give me orgasms (sex, ice cream, those water bottle misters on a hot day) soooo saying orgasms are my favorite thing is pretty close to accurate and would make the most sense.

Anyway. Sometimes orgasms are way more difficult for females who are having sex with men (me included!). But never fear! It is possible to do. Below I have listed three easy ways to enhance your orgasms no matter who you’re banging (man, woman, yourself etc). Enjoy (and please, cum again).

Here are Three Easy Ways to Enhance Your Orgasm

1. Exercise to Sexercise

Move your body to really mmmoovvee your body. Whether you’re doing high or low impact, weight-training, HIIT, yoga, etc. when you get your blood flow going it helps make it easier to get off. Plus, there are some stats out there that says exercise raises testosterone in women, which can help boost that sex drive.  (I have not read the full report but you can and then you can tell me about it.) Also, when your body is in better shape it increases endurance, strength, and flexibility which all can have a major impact on how well you perform in the bedroom. I’m not saying you have to become a major stud muffin muscle machine, but it could be fun to be able to hold your partner up against a wall or pull your legs up over your head.

2.  Add (More) Toys to Your Sex Game

I’m a huge proponent of incorporating sex toys into the bedroom (or wherever you’re doing it). There is something for everyone out there in the world of adult play toys. In fact, the ones I’m featuring below were toys recommended to me by other people/friends/people I trust have good sex. I have yet to try them myself, but they are on my “To Do” list. Let me know if you’ve experienced any of these or if you have a favorite in these of these categories that you think are must-haves.

Hit the Clit Vibe with: Je Joue Mimi Soft Luxury Rechargeable Clitoral Vibrator

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Find the G-Spot withFun Factory Stronic G Rechargeable Blue Thrusting G-Spot Vibrator

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You can look at the surface area on the g-spot head of this vibrator and tell it’s a good one. Plus Fun Factory makes some of the best toys on the market.

What What in the Butt with: We-Vibe Ditto Rechargeable Remote and App Control Blue Butt Plug (plus you get to play with technology with this one!)

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3. Those Who Breathe Together Cum Together

Yes, it sounds like hippie shit, and maybe it is hippie shit, but breath work can help with focus and it can help people learn how to let go of the bullshit that might clog the brain and prevent the orgasm from entering the body.  Many tantric people claim to have the best orgasms EVER and though it looks silly wouldn’t you prefer experiencing as much pleasure as possible?

You can just slow down your breathing or catch on the same rhythm as your partner and either of those things can drastically change the orgasm experience. Breathwork can make anal sex way more pleasurable by allowing you and/or your partner to go with the intensity instead of against it.

More on each of these topics to cum. . . I mean, come, later.

When you have a better bed, you have better sex (and better sleep, win win):

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Sometimes The Hardest Thing To Do Is Get Out of Bed

depression anger heat sadness

Yes, I’m Still Stuck In Bed, But I’m Working

or

Help! Send Food. And Beer.

Sure. I like talking about SEX. But that was never the entire intention of Go Eat a Carrot. The purpose was for me to let loose on all the truth I have bottled up in me. And what’s true today is that I’m tired of trying to conform to other people’s desires. Yes, there’s an entire world out there of sexploration to be had, but I’m not in the mood.

There I said it, the horniest woman on the planet is not in the mood.

We must have entered an alternate universe.

I’m hot. I’m overheated. I’m bordering the line of anger and depression. I could cave in and just embrace the gray but why do that when I can fight it off?

I haven’t been to the grocery store in weeks. The last thing I ate yesterday was BBQ leftover from my friend’s 4th of July party. You know, a party that happened more than a week ago. Somehow I’m still alive and mostly getting all of my calories from beer, which I also ran out of last night.

You know in Denver you can get all of the above delivered to you? Groceries, beer, even sex if you know how to use Tinder right.

But I refuse! I have two legs. I can walk to the store. Yet, I don’t. I open the fridge and go,

‘oh look, three rotting limes and one old carrot. Guess I’ll come back and look in here again in 15 minutes and hope things have changed.”

At least I still have hope even though nothing changes unless you actually do the things that make changes, hence why I’m still stuck here, hungry, thinking about making a lime/carrot juice.

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Wet & Wild Wednesday: This Boob’s For You

boobs instagram and body positivity

When You’re Angry and Depressed Just Get Naked

or

Your Body is Just a Body Moving Your Body Around

(Enjoy the video rant. An angry cry may occur in it)

I have, for many years, gone through phases where I fall into these dark holes. They’re dirtier and darker than anal holes let me tell you. Hippie-dippie people like to call it “the shadow self.” Whatever. It’s usually more menacing than a shadow, more like an empty cave that has a terrible heating and cooling system.

I care not about getting out of bed. I contemplate how I do not want to be here. And when I say here I mean Denver. I mean the United States. I mean Planet Earth. I mean here in this body.

I question my worth. I question every choice I’ve ever made. I question the people in my life and what might possibly be wrong with them to choose to spend time with me.

It starts as a simmer. Turns to a boil. Evaporates into nothingness.

The nothingness.

The care not.

The heavy gray blanket that suffocates and keeps me from moving forward.

I return to my body.

It’s funny because I imagine that many people think I’m putting up pics of my tits and ass on Instagram as some sort of desperate plea for attention. Of course, I enjoy attention but that’s not my motivation.

I do it because it’s what I have to give.

We’re all put into these vessels of flesh to learn and grow and connect. I happen to be blessed with a body that other people seem to enjoy looking at. What do I care if they look at it? Sure, I’m in charge with taking care of this thing and I could do a better job about that, but I believe we all should experience more pleasure. So here I am, mostly naked, giving strangers pleasure.

Perhaps deep down I’m just a giver with not much to give.

One day this body will be rotting in the ground and no one will want to look at it then so I might as well take some pics of it now so there’s digital proof of its existence.

I found a sentence in an old journal of mine that read,

“We’re all afraid of going after our dreams because if we fail, we will have nothing left.”

Well, I quit my job nearly a year ago to write a book. I wrote the first draft of that book.

And here I am left.
Nothing.

Yet, everything.

The opportunity to edit and write Draft 2.

The opportunity to keep showing off my boobs.

The opportunity to connect to you and you and you.

So sure, I like the attention, but it’s merely a side note to a much bigger picture. The concept that we get to move around in this package of bones and muscle and blood and skin and shit; that it’s all we really have right here where we are until we are not here anymore.

So fuck it. I embrace the dark. The light. The unknown. The complete and total hot mess that I am. And of course, I embrace the boobs.

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Tits Out Tuesday: The Problem With Casual Sex

the problem with casual sex

Fuck Who You Wanna Fuck

or

Be Who You Wanna Be

I follow a bunch of random pages on Instagram. It pretty much runs the spectrum from hedonism to cute puppies all the way to new-age spirituality bullshit and of course, alien conspiracies. The other day I saw several posts come up into my feed that all centered around the same concept– that casual sex is an energy suck.

Most of the posts read something like this:

“Everyone is too busy just having sex for pleasure with no connection. They’re going to lose their chance to find someone real because of their sexual desires (demons) …”

The concept stems from the idea that when you give a part of yourself to someone who has no intention of returning anything you give–you are transferring your energy into emptiness and soon you will also be empty inside.

I’m still trying to wrap my brain around this idea.

I think for the most part this idea is bullshit.

Is there an actual problem with casual sex?

Yes.

The problem is people who have a problem with it.

If you have a problem with it, then it’s not for you and that’s okay. But, if it’s not your thing that doesn’t mean it’s not for other people. And the only way you lose your energy is by choosing to give it to someone else.

Is it possible to continue creating connections with people AND also participate in casual sex? Perhaps it’s only for people who are capable of separating the meanings of experiences. Not every sexual encounter is about intimacy or spiritual bonding. Sometimes it’s just about enjoying pleasure for pleasure’s sake. If people are going around ONLY seeking pleasure ALL of the time, perhaps they’re all empty on the inside. Or maybe pleasure is just easier for them? Maybe they haven’t gotten to the point where they’re ready for a deeper, closer intimacy. Is that wrong?

It seems like it should come down to communication. If you’re looking for a connection that’s more than just pleasure, discuss it. Perhaps don’t fuck someone who’s only about the physical act of sex.

When you’re on the same page, it shouldn’t be an energy suck or cause for concern.

One form of sex is not necessarily more real than any other. Of course, when you’re into each other it can definitely make the sex better, but it also depends on your definition of better. So, what I’m getting at here is that I disagree with this new-agey bullshit that says casual sex is bad for the world. I believe that everyone should experience more pleasure and within that pleasure, we will all have better experiences here on earth. Perhaps I’m wrong. I’m okay with being wrong. But perhaps shedding the guilt around sexuality would be more beneficial to our planet than continuing to make people feel bad for the choices they’re going to make.

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Tits Out Tuesday: Free the Nipple Movement v. Feminism v. Objectification

free the nipple movement

Free the Nipple Movement, is it Feminist?

or

Why Are Your Tits Out All the Time?

You know, I started this blog because I like giving blow jobs. I like giving blow jobs and I feel guilty about enjoying it because somewhere deep down in my feminist bloodline I feel guilty about liking dick.

After 3 days of mania that also included giving one of the best blow jobs I have ever given–I believe it was described as “transcendent,”–my throat chakra opened, I ditched my liberal identity, and began talking about pleasure as a political tool for growth and change. Of course, I don’t always outright say it. Mostly I just talk about sex stuff, but the point is when we all experience more joy, love, orgasms, the world is a better place. When we all can open up about what and who we like, we can all experience our environments in deeper, more profound ways.

As Go Eat A Carrot has grown I’ve been contacted by some interesting people to say the least. Recently a modeling agency reached out to me.

Now I will tell you right now that for a second in time my EGO almost got the best of me. But, there was something off about the email.

The woman who sent it explained that the agency had booked models for

“Playboy, Maxim, Sports Illustrated, and FHM to name a few.”

Then she went on to say how a different client was looking to film a pro-feminist documentary about the Free the Nipple Movement and body positivity.

She wrapped up the email with my favorite part:

“If interested please respond with your name, age, height, weight, and standard body measurements.”

Perhaps I’m cynical. Skeptical. A non-believer in the GOOD of people. But, if you’re a modeling agency booking women for Playboy, then you reach out to a non-model to be in your “pro-feminist” doc about body positivity only to follow it up by asking how FAT they are, I mean, you clearly are unaware of what kind of documentary you’re actually making.

It sounds like your client is using the Free the Nipple Movement and the body positivity movements to create a film that claims to be feminist only to continue to objectify women–but now women of ALL shapes and SIZES.

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Cool.

Coolio.

Cool carrot.

I objectify myself quite often. But I am making the conscious choice to do so. And sure, it’s okay to mix sexuality with feminism. What’s not okay is to lie about your intentions. It appears to me that this company’s intentions is to make money off of the female body by playing off the current cultural phenomenon of feminism, which leaves a bad bad taste in my mouth. (Yes, even worse than stale ejaculate).

The whole point of the Free the Nipple movement is to de-sexualize female breasts.

It’s really fucking annoying that the only time we see boobs are in sexual contexts. The idea is that if we normalize the nude body maybe everyone will calm down a bit. Perhaps be able to keep it in their pants when it needs to be kept in the pants. You know, like when women are breastfeeding their babies, that would be a pretty good time to not get a boner about boobs.

I mean, dudes can get turned on by elbows and feet and fingers and ANYTHING attached to a body really, so why make the boobs extra special? They have nipples and areolas too, some dudes even have boobs that are bigger than some women’s boobs, but if they wanted to walk around shirtless that would be okay?

Come on!

Anyway. I’ll all for freeing the nipple. I’m even for documentaries about body positivity and freedom of expression etc. but only if that’s what the documentaries are actually about and not some trick to show more boobs for guys to wank off to … there’s enough porn out there for that. In fact, there are porn categories for ALL the different boobs sizes guys like to wank off to. The Free the Nipple Movement goes beyond that, to the place where people can look at nipples and not feel the immediate need to spank the frank or diddle the skittle or whatever.

Here’s a toy you can buy for your wanking off pleasure:

Wantis Premium Male Dual Channel Space

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