I Like The Real Thing
This article was shared on FaceBook by a dear friend. Sex Robots Are Being Made to Replace Men by 2025. Now if that doesn’t scream “click on me” I don’t know what does.
After a nano second, I gave into my temptation and this is what I read:
Sex with a humanoid robot will become common practice by 2025, even overtaking sex between humans, says futurologist, Ian Pearson. His report on the future of sex has been published in partnership with Bondara, one of UK’s leading sex toy shops.
Is a futurologist a real thing? Yes
As you can see, this was the “idea” of a man. My first thought as a woman, a/k/a the sex with common sense, was “that thing is not going to fit in the nightstand drawer.”
It was at that exact moment when I grabbed my idea shattering oozie and began to fire into Ian’s brainstorm to replace men in the boudoir.
I hope this letter finds you well. First of all, congrats on being a futurologist! No doubt your parents are over the moon with this career choice. But I’m sure you already knew they would be cool with it before you officially broke the news.
Now, back to the reason, I’m writing. This article does not mention how you came to your conclusion, but something tells me you did not interview many women in the process, because if you did, I’m certain this idea would have died a quick death in the early stages of its development.
First, let me just quote something for your article:
“A lot of people will still have reservations about sex with robots at first but gradually as they get used to them, as the AI and mechanical behaviour and their feel improves, and they start to become friends with strong emotional bonds, that squeamishness will gradually evaporate. While some people will enthusiastically embrace relationship-free robot sex as soon as they can afford one, as early as 2025, it won’t have much chance of overtaking sex with humans overall until 2050,” said Pearson
Honestly, where does one even begin?
Should I start with the price tag, the definition of “gradual” or your time-table?
Considering I grew up in the 70’s and expected to be flying around with my jet-pack by now, I’m going to say with confidence that your numbers are way off. Can you say Jetsons?
Our future adults will be too busy paying off their college loans to spare any additional cash for one of these things. Masturbation is free.
No one has time to wait for a mechanical device to start acting like a human being. Gradual is a long time. Not to mention we’re still waiting for some humans to act like humans.
As a woman, with a real vagina, I found some flaws in your prediction from the female point of view:
- Women are not giving up closet space to store this sex machine. Closet space would be negotiated if this thing could do wash and clean bathrooms;
- Women are not jumping in the hay with an emotionally dead robot … again. This thing needs to be charming, buy drinks and again, clean bathrooms if you want sales;
- Women are not cleaning their robot man after it has their way, women don’t play that game. If this thing is not “self-cleaning”, not like the oven, which still requires work. I mean literally finding a cleaning product, scrubbing itself down; and putting everything away, including itself, you can forget it.
- Women would insist on a money back guarantee. What if this thing starts taking on asshole characteristics during the development stage? NO!
I’m sure you’re ready to refute my thoughts with some scientific facts that claim women would live longer if they had more orgasms, which I’m sure has some truth to it, but in reality woman would live a hell of a lot longer without the added stress of storing a sex robot in the bedroom.
Enjoy the Ride! Preferably with a human.
A Ride to Remember
As I was driving into work one morning, listening to one of my many favorite morning radio shows “The Preston & Steve Show” on 93.3 WMMR here in Philly. I say “many” because I am beyond a channel changer while driving. But this show certainly has a way of making my ride a little brighter as I head to the
salt mines office every day.
This particular morning there was a discussion on a new book titled “Carsick” by John Waters. It’s a wonderful entertaining story about John’s decision to hitchhike across the country. As the DJ’s were discussing excerpts from the book, listeners were calling in to tell their personal stories about a time when they had no other choice but to hitch a ride. I found this all very intriguing.
Lucky for me John was making his rounds promoting his tale and I was able to catch an interview with him on the Bill Maher Show. I ordered the audio version right smack in the middle of the interview!
I must say I have never listened to a book before, because I am a traditional girl who enjoys her books written on paper, but since I have a 30-40 minute ride to the gym every day, I thought this would be a good way to pass the time and avoid my OCD channel changing … Mission accomplished John!
Many of you may already know that the then 66 year-old Baltimore film director John Waters decided to hitchhike from his home in Baltimore Maryland to his home in San Francisco. Crazy or living life?
Just the idea of such a journey in 2014, when the world seems so humanly disconnected, had me completely fascinated. I’m not sure why since I never had a wish to hitchhike … especially since most hitchhikers are usually portrayed as serial murders and frankly I’m a scardy cat. However, John did point out that most serial killers are looking for 20-year-old hookers and that did make me feel much safer.
The excitement as I put the first CD into the player was admittedly a tad over the top, but who cares … I just wanted to hear all the details of this journey … one CD at a time.
After listening to at least 2 CD’s I started to think …. “why haven’t I heard about any of this on the news?”
Well, the answer to that million dollar question was found when I decided to read up on the details of the book. Something I usually do before I hit the “Add to cart” button. This is where I learned I that the first half of the book was John’s fictional version of his trip. Let me just say If anyone has some swamp land they want to get rid of … I’m your girl.
First up are the fictional good and bad rides; followed by the real rides that got him to San Francisco. 3 books for the price of 1!
If you’ve ever seen or read any of John’s past work you are well aware that his imagination reaches a level that most people cannot even fathom and he does not hold back in the fictional version of his journey. Some might think it was over the top, others (like myself) might think … hey, you never know.
John wouldn’t be John without adding some exaggerated lewdness to the first half of the book. Hey, he isn’t known as the “Pope of Trash” for his portrayal of sunshine and butterflies. There were times when I think I might have blushed, cringed and laughed behind the wheel as I listened to him tell his fictional tale, but it didn’t stop me.
His words just confirmed that if anyone in this world was going to have sex with an Alien; be given a magical asshole for three hours that would fix a flat and sing duets with Connie Frances … well, it would be John Waters.
After all the crazy antics of the fictional adventures, I heard the words “The Real Thing” and I found myself so engrossed that I was driving in circles just to finish a chapter. It was worth every ounce of fuel … even at $3.67 a gallon!
I couldn’t help but imagine myself as one of those dashboard hula girls eavesdropping on every ride. Best seat in the house.
Does all of this make me want to manicure my thumb and hit the highway? Not one bit. It does however urge me to head into each day with my wit, optimism and belief that not every stranger is a serial killer … some are just out there to Enjoy the Ride … just like me.
Lies or Leverage
The Tooth Fairy (or Easter Bunny, or Santa Claus . . .): a fun and harmless fiction, or a pointless justification for lying to children?
This is a great question, one I have been pondering for quite some time actually. I will be the first to admit that the single, childless me may have frowned upon setting the wee ones up for a disappointment. However, the married mother of a 3-year-old me found herself asking “Why can’t Santa make an appearance during all 4 seasons?” Santa threats are what mothers consider…. Leverage.
Oh, put your judgments away folks. I don’t care what anyone says, there is NO and I repeat NO negotiating with a 3-year-old who made the executive decision to let you know in a big way, that they no longer want to be shopping with you and NOTHING gets them out of their human plank position in the middle of the Mall faster than those 2 glorious words…Santa’s Watching.
Personally, I was never a fan of the Easter Bunny. The thought of a giant rodent coming into our house really didn’t bring on the warm & fuzzies, it sort of just scared the crap out of me. I never elaborated on his existence, probably due to my own phobias about that big ugly impersonator they have at the mall. If you ever need a good photo of a frightened child, just spend a few minutes at that display. I don’t find this one fun, harmless or a useful parenting tool…it’s just weird & scary.
Ah, my girl the Tooth Fairy, now this little lady rocks. I love the concept of a little fairy bringing cash in the middle of the night. Sadly she only works for teeth. I know when I was a kid I couldn’t wait to wake up to a nice shiny quarter or dime under my pillow. However, just this week I heard she is handing out an average of $2.50 per tooth. Makes one want to consider some extractions now doesn’t it? It’s 80.00 for a set of chops in case you were digging out the calculator.
My FAVORITE Tooth Fairy story is when I broke the news to my son. He was sitting in the back of the car, drilling me as if I were on trial, about the whereabouts of the Tooth Fairy. My daughter, who is just about 2 years older, let out a “Mom, just tell him!” Lord knows that’s all curious George had to hear before the “Tell me mom” chant entered the vehicle. This kid is notorious for wearing down the strongest pillars of parental strength with his piercing repetitive chanting. So, I broke the news that I was in fact the Tooth Fairy. Immediate silence came over the car.
Ugh, I felt so bad looking at his little face in the rearview mirror. He was so cute with his little glasses and toothless grin that my heart was just melting. Finally I asked “Are you ok Zac you’re awfully quiet back there?” I NEVER saw this coming …”I’m ok mom, I can’t wait to tell my friends that you work, you make the best cookies in the whole world and YOU’RE THE TOOTH FAIRY!” Needless to say we had to take our conversation a tad further until it all sunk into that cute little head. He was actually relieved I wasn’t going into strange homes.
Now back to the question on hand. The only real problem I have with this “lying” is it doesn’t last too long today. Parents don’t get nearly as much mileage out of the farce as their parents did. Kids today are hip. I was so gullible believing well into 7th grade, so breaking the grim “There is no Santa, Giant Rodent or Fairy” news to a 13 year-old really wasn’t a big deal. Parents today are discussing drugs, alcohol & sex to their 13 year olds. Which to me is a much bigger deal!
Lying about fun and harmless fiction is not an issue, however lying about your child’s age to open a Facebook account is. The legal age is 13! Children today are already lacking a childhood, or my definition of one anyway, so lets hang on to what we can these days. We already have technology & academic pressure pushing the fantasy of childhood right out the door as it is, so if telling a few tales to ignite some good old imagination, I say bring it on. There’s plenty of time to be grown-up…let kids be kids and Enjoy the Ride! (In the slow lane)
Can’t Get Enough of Your Love
Describe the most satisfying meal you’ve ever eaten in glorious detail.
I wouldn’t necessarily say this is the best meal I’ve ever had, but it certainly meets all the necessary requirements to justify it as most satisfying along with most consecutively consumed. We are going to have to take a trip back in time to the Fall of 1978 when I not only entered my Freshman year of high school, I entered the cafeteria and met my new love….The Hot Cheese Sandwich.
My sister was 2 years ahead of me in high school, so I was aware that the Hot Cheese was somewhat of a celebrity on campus, but nothing could compare to meeting this oozy, gooey bundle of love in person. It was indeed love at first bite!
I entered the cafeteria for the first time and immediately noticed the tinfoil tower of tantalizing bundles luring me right into their aluminum bed. I approached with caution, trying my best to contain my excitement. Desperation is never attractive.
As I got closer to the tower my heart began to beat just a little faster. I couldn’t help but notice that these little bundles were even better looking up close. They were basking under the enormous red lightbulb that was keeping them hot, as if they needed any help in that department, patiently waiting to be consumed.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I grabbed my glistening little jewel and headed back to the table where I could have my way with it. I decided to take things slow by keeping my inner cheese slut at bay. After all it was only our first date. Just as I began to gently peel back the foil, I captured a glimpse of the magnificent mound of gooey goodness that lied beneath the lightly toasted Kaiser roll. I’m not positive, but I think Barry White was playing in the background…or maybe that was just in my head.
I took one bite and thought “where have you been all of my life you lusty, luscious, lip-smacking lump of velvety goodness?” We certainly didn’t waste a minute hooking-up almost every day for the next 2 years. Why not 3 you ask? Senior year I had the pleasure of having lunch as my last class and made the painful decision to end our relationship so I could go HOME.
No worries, I reassured Hot Cheese that there will always be a special place in my heart…no doubt in my arteries … forever. Enjoy the Ride!
There has been quite a bit of chatter amongst the ladies about fantasies. Let’s face it; between Magic Mike and 50 Shades, this Summer is one of the hottest on record. This does not include flashes or dew point averages … they are a separate kind of hot.
Here is the low down folks. I
wasted 10 hard-earned dollars saw Magic Mike. Seriously, I’ve seen better plots in porno flicks! The lack of chemistry between the characters was so awkward for the audience, especially this patron, I actually found myself wanting an unexpected plumber to appear on the screen to “take care of pipes.” I still don’t think there was a script.
I will admit to enjoying the dance moves of Channing Tatum, however I am NOT turned on by guys even if they are smoking hot who wear oversized sweat pants accessorized with a baseball cap. Construction workers, anyone resembling a cast member of Mad Men and of course the Indian or I guess since it’s 2012, the Native American from the Village People would do it at any given time …. Depending on the mood of course.
As for 50 Shades of Grey, I haven’t jumped on that bandwagon…yet. I think I’ll hop on board at the end of July, when my kiddies will be enjoying the shore without us. We will have the
Love Shack house all to ourselves, just in case there are any side effects to reading what Mr. Grey has to offer. Any who…
All of this chatter had me thinking about my own fantasies. Guess what, they don’t include men. Put your filthy minds away right now. Let’s see what good old Merriam Webster has to say about the word Fantasy shall we.
FANTASY: noun; the forming of mental images, especially wondrous or strange fancies; imaginative conceptualizing.
Thank you Merriam for setting the record straight, those Fantasies do not have to include sex. That being said let me reveal some of my most passionate thoughts. There is one fantasy that I’ve been having for years … Jeez, just the thought puts a huge smile on my face. As each year passes, I add different scenarios that just make it better and better….ahh. Oops, slipped right off into La La Land for a moment. Let get down to biz…here is just a taste of what gets this momma excited.
I long for the day when my son gets his own dwelling, for so many reasons, but none more satisfying than what I am about to disclose. The anticipation can be overwhelming at times. Brace yourselves folks….
After a long day of helping him move into his new place, our bodies still covered in sweat, my husband and I slowly walk over to the refrigerator to grab some cold juice boxes. Our son immediately notices the juice boxes from his childhood, forming a huge smile on his face.
On cue like 2 well-organized Ninjas, we drop the juice boxes. In a flash we start jumping on them shooting the juice across the room hopefully on a light-colored carpet to see who can shoot it the furthest. We walk over to our son, pick his jaw up off the floor and tell him Game On as we laugh all the way home. I have goose bumps!
After we arrive home we discuss our next encounter. The anticipation of being invited to a dinner party brings shivers down my spine. Should we start off slow by flushing the glass votive holders down the toilet or do we slam hard with the unexpected and decorate the hallway with EVERY Always Maxi with Wings in the box … either way I’ll leave satisfied…I might even have a smoke!
Fantasies are a wonderful escape from reality. It doesn’t matter if they include the likes of Magic Mike and Christian Grey or if they are filled with juice boxes and maxi pads. If you’re smiling in the end that’s all the matters.
Imagination is everything, don’t leave home without it. Enjoy the Ride!
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