Just because I write about f*cking doesn’t mean I want to f*ck you.
Please note: Some of this post is tongue-in-cheek (giant porno penises? I mean, we all know some of that is camera tricks, right?), but the overall message is serious. However, every bit of it is based solely on my perspective. I’m only speaking for me. I don’t know whether or not all porn stars, fetish writers, sex bloggers, or other people in the adult industry feel the same way. I’m guessing some of them do, some of them don’t. That’s usually how it works. Either way, if you’ve got something to add, or a differing opinion, or just want to say hi, drop it in the comments. We moderate because our spam filter isn’t catching all the spam. All comments will be posted as soon as they’re noticed.
So, the other day, Kelly Shibari tweeted this:
Dudes – porn chicks see enough penises at work to not want to see yrs on social media. Pls stop offering them. #PublicServiceAnnouncement
— Kelly Shibari (@KellyShibari) April 16, 2013
And I laughed. Poor fellas sending her all those dick pics. You’d think the very fact that hetero/bi/pan female porn stars spend the vast majority of their work day with dicks in their faces would be enough to deter some random dude from sending the stars pics of his own member.
I mean, first of all, how creepy can you be? We arrest men who run around flashing their penises at unsuspecting people in public, but on the internet, these dudes think it’s okay to send unsolicited dick pics to anyone they feel like it. Gross. I did not give my consent to look at your penis. I wouldn’t go shoving my vulva in your face without (permission from M) you asking for it. Don’t shove your dick in mine!
But also do these guys even watch porn? Have they seen the sizes of porno penises? I mean, they’re gigantic! Most wouldn’t even fit in my mouth. I’m surprised they fit on a screen. You’d think that, in and of itself, would make the guy go, “Man, my dick can’t measure up to these dudes. I’ll keep it in my pants when hottie porn stars are around.”
Unfortunately, as it turns out, there are a ton of starstruck perverts out there who think their penis is that super speshul penis that will bring all the porn chicks to the yard. Their penises are definitely so awesome the porn chicks will leave porn and only fuck them. Never mind the fact that some of them actually like what they do because they’re good at it and they turn a decent wage.
It’s not just porn chicks, though. I’ve long since lost count of the number of dick pics I get on a regular basis from Twitter, Google+ and LinkedIn. No…really. LinkedIn. Apparently my résumé is sexy.
But dick pics are probably one of the smallest annoyances in this line of work. I’m far more bothered by the harassment, stereotypes, and uninformed assumptions than I am a penis showing up in my inbox from time to time. At least the penis just…sits there.
Since I joined UniteBlue, there’s been a rather large influx of people who are so scared of their sexuality that their bios actually say “no sex,” and they’ll block me when they realize I don’t just talk about politics and every day life, but I also talk about my sex life.
I know. Liberals who are scared of sex. Who’da thunk it?
For some, though, it’s not that they’re afraid of their sexuality. It’s that they’ve never encountered a person who is open about their sexuality before, so they don’t know how to act. If you’re one of those folks, don’t worry. I’m here to help.
My name is not “baby”! It’s not “honey”, or “sweetie”, or “sugar pie”, or “dear”. I have a name, and it’s right there on my profile. If you must call me something, I’d prefer it be that. All those other things? They’re one of two things:
- A term of endearment
- A way of disarming the person you’re speaking to so you can take advantage of them
If you just met me (or just found my Twitter profile, or just passed me on the street, as the case may be), you’ve got no reason to be directing terms of endearment at me (though occasionally—very occasionally—I’ll cut southerners and older gentlemen some slack), so obviously, it’s the second thing. Fuck you for thinking I’m so one-dimensional and pliable that calling me “baby” is enough to make me want your cock. Seriously.
The fact that I identify as a slut does not give you the right to treat me like I’m your slut. So what, I like sex? So what, I’ve been paid for it? So what, I’m not afraid to talk about it? So what, I’m willing to try anything once? So what, the number of notches on my proverbial belt exceeded 30 when I was in my 20s? Keep your hands and propositions to yourself.
The fact that I identify as a slut also does not give you the right to treat me like garbage. I’m still a human being who is very civic-minded. I do a good bit of volunteer work to better my community, and pay attention to the world around me so I can help guide society in the direction I believe it should go.
Because I enjoy having and talking about sex, and choose to be my own moral compass, I’m a bad person who deserves things like sexual assault, hate speech, disrespect, harassment? Yeah, I don’t think so. And fuck you for thinking that I do.
I’m not easy. I mean, I am when it comes to M. A stiff breeze will put me in the mood to remind him why he loves my feminine wiles. But when it comes to you? Ffs. You could be the hottest guy on the planet. You could be the most clever. You could have all the money in the world. And I’m still going to think you’re a complete douche when you ignore the ring on my left hand and try to talk me into fucking you behind my man’s back.
I’m not polyamorous. Contrary to popular belief, being kinky does not mean you fuck everything that moves (and neither, for that matter, does claiming the “polyamorous” label). In fact, I’m monogamous. This means the only person I have sex with is my husband. You’re not my husband? I’m not interested in fucking you.
Your “charm” looks more like sexual harassment. Hint: it is not charming. There’s a fine line between complimenting someone, and being disgusting. There’s an even finer line between harmless flirting, and being out of line. And both depend on the people involved and their relationship.
Your “come here and let me put it to you, girl”s and “damn, ma, your rack would look nice on my cock”s and “meet me at the Waffle House”es are neither harmless flirting, nor compliments. If we worked together, you’d already be at the end of the unemployment line. Just sayin’.
Okay, I’ll admit, I’m a little passive aggressive in my reproach. Generally speaking, I just ignore the offending parties. What I should be doing is telling them what they’re doing is not okay. It’s sexual harassment, and it’s gross. I think I’ll make an effort to do that from now on. Will you join me?