brotherpeacemaker

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The Freedom To Beat Monkeys

When I was a young man, long before I even knew what it was like to take a woman to bed, I had my elders making me believe that when a man turned forty a man’s libido, a man’s sex drive, a man’s reason for being a man, dries up and goes away.  Male impotence was just a matter of time.  No man could escape it.  It was just one of those facts of life.  The little perky guy that wakes up with you in the morning and happily points the way to the bathroom for you gets sadder and sadder over the years.  By the time forty rolls around the little guy’s doing not much more than uselessly hanging around and waiting for the end.  Nothing gets his attention any more.  Nothing could put the perk back into his step.  At least that’s how I understood things listening to my uncles talk when I was little.  Keep in mind that this was way back before there was such as thing as the little blue pill Viagra or Cialis or Enzyte.

Now I’m just a couple of clicks away from fifty and I’m happy to say that on many mornings my little friend still greets me with a stiff morning salute hello and points the way to the bathroom for me.  I have to say many mornings because more often than not Ms. Peacemaker just isn’t in the mood or is just a bit too tired from chasing junior Peacemaker around all day.  if I’m fortunate enough to get a little loving the night before or sometime during the night or earlier in the morning, my little homey is going to try and sleep late.  We’re both getting up their in age so I have to cut him some slack.  If I had my way, I’d sleep late too.  But inevitably, one of us has to get up in the morning and it’s usually me.

As a young man, it was a piece of cake to contort my body to take that morning leak when homey was doing an iron man impersonation.  Just stick a hand out as if I’m trying to do a one armed push up off the back of the toilet tank and use the other hand to direct the flow of my early morning stream.  But these days I just don’t have the strength, the energy, or the desire to make the toilet tank serve as a homemade Bowflex and go through such lengths to relieve myself.  Not only that, with nearly fifty years of experience under my belt, I’ve learned to work a little smarter, at least part of the time.  There are a lot of euphemisms for it and it don’t matter which one you choose.  Whether you call it choking the monkey, buffing the banana, checking the dipstick, cleaning the rifle, draining the monster, the five knuckle shuffle, greasing the pipe or just plain old whacking off, masturbation helps to take the starch out my little friend.  I won’t say how often but I will say on a monthly basis billions and billions of sperm cells are lost.

Depending on your personal point of view some people might say that I’m guilty of murder on a massive scale.  A lot of people don’t approve of grown men, or anyone else for that matter, whacking off.  Some people actually think it is sinful behavior.  Personally, I call it relief.  I would find it an extreme violation of my privacy if someone was to pass a law making male masturbation illegal.  I would think that what a man does with his two friends Ruby Right and Lucy Left is his own business.  The idea that somebody in some government office somewhere feels that their morals should be made law simply because of their beliefs is rather despicable.  I would find it just as abhorrent if someone passed a law that said men must regularly lube their tube.

Everybody has certain choices in their behaviors.  We could pass laws that require men to weigh no more than a couple hundred pounds and women no more than one fifty.  We could pass laws that require people to save twenty percent of their earnings.  We could pass laws that require people to live within five miles of their workplace, consume five servings of vegetables every day.  We could even pass laws that make low grades in school a punishable offense.  We could pass laws that limit all kinds of questionable or less than acceptable behavior.  But one thing that’s even more abhorrent is the idea that someone or some group feels that they can dictate what the rest of us do.  Different people have different ideas at different times in their lives and really don’t need someone telling them how to live with dictated morals and values.  If that was the case, all those laws we passed against racism would’ve worked a long time ago.

Somebody has a problem with me jacking off?  I’m sorry.  But I enjoy having the freedom of personal choice.  Our freedom is supposed to be one of the key reasons as to why the rest of the world is standing in line waiting to blow us up.  We have to fight them there so I can jack-off here.  And come tomorrow morning if the little misses isn’t in the mood, I plan to put those personal freedoms to good use.  Those bad guys in Iraq and Afghanistan aren’t the only ones trying to our freedoms away.  From the way a lot of people talk the freedom to make personal choices is under assault right here in the good old United States of America.

Saturday, August 30, 2008 Posted by | Life, Thoughts | Leave a comment