Tag Archives: sex

2097. There they go again

Now that cosmic aliens have become commonplace, and in the main taken for granted, certain serious problems have arisen.

I’m not talking about interplanetary marriages. These of course can create hitherto unthought of problems. A human and an alien falling in love is a bit like being besotted by a pet cat. Nothing wrong with loving ones cat. It’s the procreation bit that makes the mess. There are now all sorts of bylaws and mores to govern transplanetary sex. How does an Earthling, for example, have sex with a creature who has… Oh, doesn’t matter…

But it’s the racism that gets to me. As an alien on Earth from the Planet Spectrifica I can only say I have felt the full force of Earthly bigotry many a time. Earthlings used to discriminate against Asians and Blacks and Europeans and any subdivision they cared to create that was governed by looks or beliefs. These days this full-faced vengeance is aimed at aliens from outer space. They cannot accept the fact that every alien from every planet has features Earthlings posit as being ludicrous. Only the other day I saw two Earthling schoolgirls giggling at a Tronkinish who had three belly buttons on his/her forehead. The various races on Earth are now united by their common hatred and scorn of aliens.

That is why I have founded a group that gives voice to protest against these bigotries. It is called ALARM. For the name I simply took the first letter of every word in the name; which seems to be a practice used by the Earthlings. For example there are UN and BLM and USA and UK and NASA and so on. So I settled on ALARM.

ALARM is become increasingly popular with us aliens. We stand together against the ignorance of Earthlings.

Some Earthling asked (on television would you believe): What do the letters of ALARM stand for? I said that ALARM stands for ALIEN LIVES ARE REALLY IMPORTANT. They said that would be ALARI not ALARM. I simply sighed and thought, There they go again. Earthlings continue to impose their restrictive perceptions on every living creature in the Universe. It seems they will never learn. If scrunchers weren’t illegal on this backward planet I’d get one and scrunch the lot.

2025. Are you gender neutral or gender neutral?

Most interplanetary aliens look like humans. They have two arms, two legs, two nostrils, two ears, and so on. Presumably underneath their clothes they are much the same as humans, but an earthly visitor could hardly ask aliens to take off their clothes to enable observation.

The problem is – and this seems to be the case in all twenty-seven known planets with intelligent beings – in looks at least, males and females seem very much the same; same hair, same complexion, same height, and so on. They appear to be gender neutral, although they clearly make babies one way or another.

Even the Honniplexes, whose climate and terrain are as different as one could get from Earth, have human features, although their feet are slightly oversized.

How do all these aliens know which is which? Who is what when it comes to sex? Obviously one can’t wait until “the moment” to find out that the other person is the wrong gender to make a baby. As Marilynn Duckplath declared in Earth Parliament, “How can we use non-sexist language when we don’t know what gender we are trying to avoid? It has become a matter of science to find out the interplanetary facts of life.”

There was nothing for it but to send a crew out into space to force the aliens to strip. But what a disappointment! “We were extremely disappointed with what we scientifically observed,” reported the head scientist to Earth Parliament. “We took all sorts of measurements and everything seemed much the same as my own bits and pieces.” Marilynn Duckplath pushed even further: “Could you describe what you observed in greater detail.”

Enough is enough. Marilynn was greatly dissatisfied. She took the sex of aliens into her own hands. The next time aliens came to Earth she asked them point blank: “Which of you are males and which are females and how do you tell the difference?”  The answer stunned the scientific community. One planet distinguished the sexes via smell, another through sound, another through touch, another by giving a gentle bite on the neck when greeting a hitherto unknown person. Earth seemed to be the only planet that sorted out sexual identity via looks.

Marilynn took the lead in introducing new legislation on Earth. “How can we have gender equality throughout the cosmos when there are vastly different ways of identifying gender? From now on humans will identify their gender via sound. That way we can strive for universal equality.”

And that is why little boys are taught to fart loudly and crudely, whereas little girls (who are sugar and spice and all things nice) are taught to fart in the quietest possible manner.

Further legislation is to be introduced in the future to refine the situation. It is sexist to demand that boys and girls be taught to fart differently. All must fart the same. In future, aliens when they visit are to rightly be perplexed as to who are the males and who are the females. They’ll consider sending a team of scientists to investigate.

1896. A compromising situation

Dear Heart Throb
I really don’t know who to turn to. I am eighteen and my uncle’s wife claims to have information on me that could prove embarrassing. I don’t know whether to confront her about it or ignore it and hope it goes away. She claims to have photos of me in a compromising situation even though I know I’ve never been in a compromising situation like that. It’s amazing how photographs can be doctored these days to make them look real. Any suggestions?
Disgruntled Nephew.

Dear Disgruntled Nephew
You seem like a nice young man. How awful to be accused of being in a compromising situation and never having been in a compromising situation. You’ve got the worst of both worlds.

May I suggest you make a list of possible compromising situations – experiences that theoretically would embarrass you if knowledge of them got out into the public arena. An example could be getting videoed while stealing something valuable from a shop; or being caught having an affair with a popular film star. Things like that. Then choose one from the list and GO OUT AND DO IT. Make sure it gets noticed and recorded, and then leave it in a place where your uncle’s wife will find it. Doctoring photographs simply doesn’t work. She’ll want the genuine stuff. You’ll find that often the general population will be in awe of you and your compromising situation. You’ll be something of a celebrity.

Hope this helps.
Heart Throb

1673. Why some pronouns are proper

Stephan had a reasonably well-paid job until the company was sued by Stephanie for using the wrong pronoun. It was obvious that it should have been “she” and “her”?

Stephanie had a reasonably well-paid job until the company was sued by Stephan for using the wrong pronoun. It was obvious that it should have been “he” and “him”?

Stephan had a reasonably well-paid job until the company was sued by Stephanie for using the wrong pronoun. It was obvious that it should have been “she” and “her”?

Stephanie had a reasonably well-paid job until the company was sued by Stephan for using the wrong pronoun. It was obvious that it should have been “he” and “him”?

Stephan was an expert at forging references. It was a handy skill to have when looking for a job. But now there simply wasn’t a need for it. Enough money had been made.

1618. Reproductive toxicity

Just as Leopold was about to undergo purgation for reproductive toxicity, disaster struck. His wife had insisted that he have such a treatment and it was while flying to Los Angeles to see the experts that something happened to change his mind. He met a high altitude safety technician. She was delivering cut lunches to all the passengers when she leant over to ensure that Leopold’s safety belt was properly fastened. “We don’t want you to fall out of your seat when the plane crashes do we, sweet pea?” That was enough to convince Leopold that the proposed purgation of his reproductive toxicity should be put on hold.

Quite frankly, enough was enough. Upon arrival in Los Angeles Leopold and Angelina (for that was her name) booked into a motel where they mutually enhanced not only Leopold’s reproductive toxicity but his toxic masculinity as well. It was what used to be known as “a dirty weekend”.

Upon his return home Leopold’s wife was convinced that the expert’s purgation had indeed worked, for he no longer showed any interest in her. That was the beginning of the end; or rather the beginning of the beginning. They drifted apart. Leopold’s wife revelled in her new-found independence and ran for Congress. She was duly elected and had an extremely fruitful career demanding the destruction of male reproductive toxicity up and down the county.

Leopold’s ex-wife became something of a celebrity but, I’m sorry, I can’t remember her name.

1593. A bit of a romp

Jock was all of nineteen and more than halfway through his apprenticeship with a building firm. He loved to party on the weekends, and if he didn’t have to work he would have loved to party every night of the week.

One Saturday night he was invited by this guy and his girlfriend to go back to their house for “a bit of a romp”. Jock thought it a good idea, and followed the couple’s old van to their house in his car.

Would he like a beer? A coffee? Anything? Jock thought he’d like a coffee. Why not? He had a night of “romping” ahead of him and plenty of time later for a beer or two.

Twenty minutes after finishing his coffee he knew it had been laced with something. One of his hands started to shake, and he felt scared. There was no reason to feel scared but he did. He was terrified, in fact, of something unseen. He stumbled outside and got in his car. He drove off.

He didn’t have a clue where he was going. He just drove, quite slowly because things were a bit fuzzy, but he had to get away. There was someone standing under a street light. It was a hitchhiker. Jock stopped.

“Can you drive?” asked Jock. The hitchhiker could. “Can you drive me home? Someone laced my coffee and I’m not thinking straight.”

The hitchhiker drove. When he got safely home Jock gave the hitchhiker money to get a taxi to where he was going. All night Jock sat up in his bed staring at the door. He was scared stupid. He thought someone would come through the door to get him.

This was a turning point for Jock. He settled down (ever so slightly), met someone, fell in love, and they now have five kids. Most weekends Jock takes the kids camping or fishing. Or they just mess about. A good story, eh?

1517. Is it Robbie’s lucky day?

He was getting on in life, and for all his obsession with sex, Robbie had never “done it”. It’s all he could think of half the time – sex sex sex. How come every male under the sun had “done it” and he’d never “done it”?

When he walked into a room all he could think of was sex. He wondered what it was like. Was it something to do with his childhood that prevented him from “scoring”? How come his father had never told him how to go about doing it? How was he meant to go about it now that he was older? He was sure that everyone – absolutely EVERYONE – was doing it. He decided he was too old and decrepit now to fumble around and “learn the ropes”. That would be embarrassing. He’d seen a bit of porn and it all looked complicated.

And that was when he met Mabel. Mabel was the best thing since sliced bread. He invited her to his fourteenth birthday party.

1478. Sex in the classroom

Ms Daphne McHathaway was a wonderful teacher. She had a class of ten-year olds. They loved her. Well, they did until…

Everyone was stunned to hear her say, “Class! Class! What do you know about sex?”

There was a stunned silence. Then brave Johnny Overall ventured to say, “Not much, Miss. Perhaps you can tell us about it.”

“I’m not sure I’d be allowed to,” said Ms McHathaway. “You had better ask your parents first.”

Not every child went home and asked their parents. Some were too scared to broach the subject. Others simply blurted it out at dinner time. “Can Ms McHathaway tell us about sex?”

There was outrage from some quarters. Opposition against Ms McHathaway went from the frying pan into the fire. It grew into a conflagration. In the end, the parents were called to a meeting at the school.

“You should not try to usurp the duty of parents,” expostulated Mr Freddie Turnbull.

“I don’t know what the problem is,” said Ms McHathaway. “All I wondered, with the separation of church and state, whether I was allowed to teach them about sects.”

1310. Sage advice

My mother is like really nosey about my private life. Last night I went out with Jeff and my mother wasn’t like very happy about it. Jeff’s the one that got Sheree pregnant. And he’s the center midfielder in the school’s football team. Anyway my mother said, “Now listen Carol, if Jeff tries any funny business, clock him.”

Well I tried, but it was all over before I had time to even look at my watch. I don’t know why my mother needs to know this stuff, so I made it up and told her it took about three quarters of an hour.

(I’ve just realized that this story might not make sense to some: Brit and Austral and NZ: to strike, esp on the face or head; to strike sharply or heavily: e.g. clocked him in the face. )