Sep 24, 2015

F*** Me, I'm Fugly

      Ever wake up in the morning thinking 'God, I love food'? Or going to bed pondering 'Can't wait for tomorrow so I can eat all over again'? I sure do, I fucking love food — and judging by Instagram there's heaps of other food-loving peeps out there but more on those creeps (yeah, I'm rhyming, I've have a couple of drinks in me, I rhyme when I drink, sue me ... wait ... what was I talking about again?? Oh, yeah, creeps! So more on the Instagram creeps and peeps) next week, because this week it's all about the fat, the fugly and the fabulously fuckable. What am I going on about? A certain study I've stumbled upon, what else.
      This particular study is about five years old and will make you fall madly in love with your potbelly, your fatty pack, your cushion for the pushing, your muffin top, your pouch, your one pack, your whatever you want to call it — but only if you're a guy. Yes, men have an upper hand in this universe — shocker, right? Not really and I've said it before and I'll say it again: God, I wish I had a penis. Why? Because then I would be able to stuff myself with anything and everything I want (much like I do now) and still love my stomach fat (very much UNlike I do now) because the study in question showed that the higher the man's body mass index the lesser the chance for him to suffer from erectile dysfunction and premature ejaculation: according to the study of 200 men, the overweight ones lasted on average 7.3 minutes while the skinny minnies lasted 108 seconds. How the fuck is that possible? Easy, a female helped them out or a female hormone, to be exact, called estradiol, since men with bellies supposedly have higher levels of estradiol and that hormone helps to delay climax. Well, good for them.
     But all hormones aside, that really wasn't news to me, at least not a completely blindsiding one. The less fortunate in the looks department perform better when it comes to sex than the Barbies and Kens of the world? Well, duh. At least that's evident corresponding to findings of my own personal 'study' as well as all the information I've gathered over the years and here's the data analysis, Peet style.
     All my experience and the experience of other people I've talked with point to one theory: the prettier the person, the less likely it is that sex will be mind-blowing. Why? Because they think they don't have to work for it — they've done their part, they're pretty. Find someone with a couple of extra pounds, someone with a lazy eye, someone with a limp, someone with a lisp, someone who's really hairy, someone who's bald, someone with a glass eye, someone with an extra nipple or two and they'll make it worth your while. And vice versa: find the most gorgeous dude or the most gloriously looking girl in the club and they'll most likely be a boring lay. Sorry. And to even further burst your perfect-beauty-seeking bubble, I have proof to substantiate my claim. Ever watched 1 Night in Paris? It's a sort of a let down, wouldn't you agree? I mean, even when she's blowing the guy she's sucking his dick like she doesn't really want it. She even touches up her hair meanwhile sucking, for Peet's sake. She acts and she looks like she's thinking, 'God, I'm too pretty (and rich) for this shit'. Because she's Paris Hilton. Because she's tall and blond and skinny and a ton of people had told her she looked good. And more or less the same goes for Kim Kardashian and that porn flick she made which only further validates my theory — the prettier the person, the less likely it is that sex will be mind-blowing.
     But does this mean the fuglier the person, the more likely it is that they will fuck your brains out? It can, but not necessarily and it most certainly has nothing to do with the level of fugliness one attributes to another but only to themselves so be warned: all this can backfire if you find someone who's too self-conscious about their fifth nipple, ass pimples, buck teeth or whatever it is they think it makes them imperfect and will thus just lie there corps-like similarly to the self-absorbed beauty queens and kings. Therefore you want to find someone who's just self-deprecating enough to want to compensate for their shortcomings and not someone who's completely broken down under the weight of self-criticism. Sounds like mission impossible? Well, it sort of is because there really is a thin, like XXXS thin line between the two but as a proud, upstanding and perfectly imperfect citizen of Fuglyville I assure you the quest for it won't be in vain — perfection is overrated and conceitedness is detrimental to good sex, life has taught me.
     Hence the findings of the aforesaid study claiming that heavier men tend to have an advantage when it comes to lovemaking (be it due to hormones, be it due to their eager beaver tendencies) don't surprise me — the seemingly Photoshoped picture-perfect chiselled made-up and pumped-up dolls are too busy loving themselves.

     Thanks for stopping by and looking and reading (obviously) my mishmash jumble of pot-pourri-like craziness, it means the world to me. Therefore, you're welcome to pop by again next week to see what's new on the blog — I post once a week every week, most likely on Wednesdays. But beware, I'm not signing and sealing that in blood so your best bet is to follow FPS via email (or Bloglovin, Twitter, Instagram or Google+) to never miss an update. Or simply come by again sometimes!