Category: sex

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>New and Improved Cheap And Easy Ways To Raise Your Value To A Girl.

>

Recently, “game” guru Roissy offered his readers a list of “Cheap And Easy Ways To Raise Your Value To A Girl.” Most were fairly standard pick up artist tricks of the “act like an aloof jerk and she’ll worship you” variety. According to Roissy, though, these little tricks will miraculously enable guys

to date women one to three points higher than you could be expected to get by societal standards. Do these to a girlfriend and you will be a god to her. A god among penii.

A few examples:

Don’t call back right away. Done properly, you will start to hear girls say things like “I didn’t hear back from you. You were making me nervous!”

Don’t live together. It’s much harder to project mystery living under the same roof, watching each other fold laundry every week. (Not to mention side action will be more difficult to coordinate.)

Cancel dates. (Make the reason seem apparently legitimate, but suspicious.)

Muse wistfully about past lovers.

Never do her a favor before you’ve had sex with her.

Never laugh at her jokes, even when they’re funny. If you must, chuckle under your breath.

When at her place, eat all her food, leave the seat up, change her TV channels, and torture her cat. Act like it’s your second home.

Bo-ring. These tricks may have worked on women once upon a time, but today’s women are far too sophisticated to fall for these tired old ruses . If you really want to score with the hot babes of today, you’ve got to kick your game up a notch — or three. To help, I have come up with some “New and Improved Cheap And Easy Ways To Raise Your Value To A Girl.”

Wear a banana peel on your head like a hat. This will help to create an aura of “mystery” around yourself, as well as a lovely banana-y scent that will follow you everywhere.

Poke her nose playfully after sex and say, in a cheerful voice, “Hitler was right about you!” She will ponder this one for days.

Never laugh at her jokes. Instead, fall to the floor and begin singing “Rock Me Amadeus.”

Go out on “dates” with imaginary people. Introduce her to these people, and slyly suggest a “threesome.” (Or a “foursome,” if you are dating two imaginary people at the same time.)

Muse wistfully about butter.

Don’t buy her gifts. Instead, sneak clumps of dirt into her lingerie drawer.

Never call her back right away. Instead, hide under her bed and make low moaning sounds.

If you end up in an argument with her, shout out “mom always loved you better!” Then set her couch on fire.

Don’t move in with her. Instead, move into the apartment above hers, and watch her through tiny holes drilled in the floor.

When at her place, eat her cat, torture her TV, and replace her toilet with a sack of potatoes. Act like Meryl Streep in Sophie’s Choice, including the accent.

Go forth, my young apprentices, and score like never before!

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>Now I ain’t sayin’ she’s a gold digger

>

Manosphere men often complain about evil women attempting to drain them of their money. To which there really is a very simple solution: If you don’t want a girlfriend or wife who expects you to support her, don’t seek out women who expect you to support them.

This seems like a  fairly common-sense strategy, and one that would simple enough for even the dullest of man boobz to remember. But apparently it has proved a little hard to put into practice.

For evidence of this, let’s return to our good friend Nightstorm — you know, the mousetrap-vagina, leech-women in the food court of doom guy on NiceGuy’s MGTOW forum. He’s back with another posting called “The List,“which is a list — naturally — of

the soul draining demands a woman puts on a man once their together. He MUST do these things to “make the relationship work”

The list is long, loopy, whiny, and filled with ridiculous things that MGTOWs and many MRAs tend to imagine that all women demand of all men (“Open all doors before and after for her”), but which have not actually been a part of any relationship I’ve ever been in. Aside from some complaints that are ridiculously petty (“Go to borning [sic] family out-goings”) and some that are weird paranoid fantasies (“You get your penis size and bed performance revealed to the sisterhood. Oh yes, their not laughing with you!”),  the complaints come back, again and again, to money:

Pay for dinner …
Buying her yet another useless item she doesn’t need, like shoes or a brand new car ….
You get to pay for the privledge of being with this woman. …
You get to work while she lays around the house doing nothing. …
She can have the government garnish your wages to pay her just for being the female spouse. …  You get to feel like the worthless scum you are and pay her for telling you that you are.


I’m not even sure what the fuck he’s even talking about with half of this shit.

But, again, there really is a simple solution to all these money issues. I’ll say it again, in bold  this time: If you don’t want a girlfriend or wife who expects you to support her, don’t seek out women who expect you to support them.

This, evidently, is where Nightstorm’s grand strategy has gone a bit awry.

For, as I discovered from another posting of his from a few days back, it turns out that Nightstorm’s plan to totally avoid evil leech-like women apparently entails spending many hours flirting with women online. Indeed, he included a long transcript of an online chat he’d recently had with an (alleged) 18-year-old (alleged)  girl who’d evidently decided after a couple of online chats that she wanted to be his girlfriend, despite the fact that the two of them have never actually met and in fact live in different states. (Hey, women can be idiots too.)

Nightstorm (posting as “shawnz”) decided they needed to set down the terms of their relationship, and began by asking her what she thought she brought to the relationship. She jokingly suggested: herself, her “sexy hair,” and her vagina.

[20:54] shawnz: if you become my GF..
[20:54] shawnz: I will get you, your sexy hair, and your vagina
[20:55] shawnz: and what do you expect out of me …
[20:55] [name redacted]: ur penis ur cuddles and ur texting/calling/being on cam and coming to visit!
[20:55] shawnz: ok, anything else
[20:56] [name redacted]: nope

That seems pretty straightforward. No mention of “family out-goings” or even paying for dinner.

Nightstorm then set out his terms for the relationship:

[20:58] shawnz: First, I want a girl who cooks and cleans the house, I want someone who doesn’t nag, cripe
[20:58] shawnz: bitch, or complain, someone who cuddles and anytime I want sex
[20:58] shawnz: someone who has ambition
[20:58] [name redacted]: demanding arent we lol
[20:58] shawnz: and someone who wants more than just love in the relationship, after all its hard work

Demanding, to be sure, lol, but he offers some things in return:

[20:59] shawnz: and what I offer is romance, a good paying salary for provision, and intimacy
[20:59] shawnz: I also offer you good self-esteem and reliability and faithfulness

Let’s pause for a moment to consider that bit in the middle after “romance”: “a good paying salary for provision.”

The two haven’t even met, and he’s already offering to support her financially.

It appears Nightstorm not only has not only bungled the whole “don’t pursue women who expect you to support them” strategy I have outlined above. He’s actually OFFERING TO SUPPORT A WOMAN WHO DOESN’T ACTUALLY EXPECT HIM TO SUPPORT HER.

It seems to me that if you want a woman who is financially dependent on you — you provide the money, she provides “anytime [you] want sex” — you pretty much forfeit your right to complain about her being financially dependent on you.

Fortunately for Nightstorm, [name redacted], and the rest of us on this planet, he decided that [name redacted] wasn’t serious enough to be his girlfriend. So, crisis averted. For now.

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>Leech Women in the Food Court of Doom

>

Women in search of prey.

Back by popular demand, here’s more Nightstorm. We’ve already heard his theories about the Mousetrap vagina. Now we see his nightmare vision of … men and women going shopping at the mall. Of course, I hate shopping with women — and, for that matter, men — as much as the next guy, but Nightstorm takes it to a whole other level:

Imagine a man who is walking in the mall. Browsing. Through the food stores figuring out what to eat. As he stands there pondering, the camera pans left to reveal his back. Mounted and glued is the fattest moda fucking slug you ever seen! It has no form but that of a leach and you could almost mistake it for a backpack.

The slug whispers things in the mans ear. The man smiles. The slug then begins to direct the man where to go while sucking on the mans neck, draining of him of his life force.

Suddenly another male who is in the mall, also browsing for food comes by. He too, has this same slug like creature on his back. Both males converse in conversation while the 2 slugs look absolutely hostile towards one another. They cling harder to their host and begin to hiss at one another, afraid it will steal its host and leave it hang to dry.

Yes, the entire livelyhood of the slug is at risk,so it hisses at the other ready to bite its head off. Soon it whispers to the man it doesn’t want to eat here, and that’s how men part ways because there gf told them to.

Wasn’t this a David Cronenberg movie?

Seriously, Nightstorm, stop wasting your time on MGTOW websites and start churning out scripts for horror movies. I would totally watch this shit, and I’m not even kidding. You’ve got a GIFT, son!

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The Mousetrap Vagina

 

We return again to a young up-and-comer on NiceGuy’s MGTOW forum, a fellow calling himself Nightstorm. Though a proud virgin, Nightstorm has some highly advanced theories about vaginas and the women who host them:

Its almost like a mouse trap is on a womans vagina, where when a men has to carefully insert his penis hoping not to spring the trap. If he is successful, he gets a free ride. If he is like most men, unsucessful, the trap springs, claps his penis into the vagina of the woman, and soon poisnous venom streams from her vagina and injects itself into the male genital.

This poison then creeps into the male brain and literally makes him stupid, it shuts down his intellect, and activates all his hormones for more pussy. She’s got the bastard. Now she can slowly but surely take all his wealth and keep pumping more poison into him. The man feels trapped, he can’t remove his penis from the vagina for the life of him, but he enjoys that pussy, so he continues to let himself get robbed.

Emphasis added.

It’s astounding that he’s able to discern so much about vaginas despite having had no actual contact with them since the moment of his birth.

Luckily for him, and luckily for the women of the world, Nightstorm has no plans to acquire any hands-on (or, more precisely, penis-in) experience with vaginas in the near future. In a later comment, he spells out some of the reasons for his continued abstinence (besides the whole poison-mousetrap thing): fear of STDs, fear of pregnancy, and fear of, well, this scenario:

if she was a virgin, how I would have to deal with the hassle of possible bleeding. Its not so hott when I make her spew red and white blood cells all over the sheets and doing it in the bathtub would required poor foreplay and not comfortable or roomy space. If she is a heavy weight girl, then there goes my bathtub, broken.

And if if, say, he’s somehow able to avoid the perils of STDs, pregnancy, icky blood and a broken bathtub, then what?

Well, then I would have to deal with her wanting more in the relationship, such as meeting her family, or perhaps even paying her for it, or her expecting some sort of “favor” in return for sex which we both equally enjoyed. 

Yeah, nothing ruins a nice evening of dipping your penis in a bloody, poison-infused mousetrap like the owner of said mousetrap asking you to meet her parents.

EDITED TO ADD: Sometimes people complain that I focus on the weird fringes of the MGTOW world. Thing is, within the MGTOW world, these things aren’t regarded as weird or fringey. Indeed, one of the comments I quoted above from Nightstorm was just highlighted on MarkyMark’s blog as an example of MGTOW thinking at its finest:

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: we truly have some of the BEST & BRIGHTEST men in the world on there [that is, on NicGuy’s MGTOW forum]!  What you’re about to read will provide yet more proof of that.

Anyway, NowhereMan & Nightstorm were discussing CNN piece about how men supposedly have the upper hand in sexual matters.  What they say is gold, pure gold!  It’s stuff that my boys should read and heed. …

Even if you’re not religious, there are PRACTICAL reasons for avoiding sex with women.  The most important of these is to keep your power.  Sex is a woman’s ‘nuclear option’; take that away, and you take away a woman’s power over you.

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>Roxxxy and the Sexbotapocalypse

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Roxxxy puts the moves on some dude.

In a recent post, we learned that flesh-and-blood women only have about ten years left before they are made obsolete by sexy lady robots. Just so you ladies know what you’re up against, here are some videos showing what state-of-the art sexy lady robots can do already. As you can see, Roxxxy here, a sexbot from True Companion LLC, can turn her head like Linda Blair in the Exorcist and mechanically banter with non-robot men using a variety of canned phrases that sound a lot like what a perpetually dateless non-robot man might imagine a sexy lady would say if ever one deigned to speak to him. And, as you can see in the second video, she can wiggle seductively. So you non-robotic gals better step up your game, and fast, if you want to survive the sexbotapocalypse.

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*Yes, that was a Bioshock reference.

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>Very, very, very bad Santa

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Hey ladies!

Let me ask you: does this dude — you know, the one to the immediate right of these words, with the intense stare and rakishly tousled hair — look like the kind of guy who might, in a burst of inspiration, fill a vibrator with “gun powder, BB shot, and buck shot from shotgun shells,” then give it to an ex-girlfriend as a Christmas gift in hopes that she would place it inside herself forthwith, at which point he would cause said vibrator to literally explode his ex?

Well, to me, he sort of does, and apparently he did as well to the Waseca, Minnesota police, who arrested the mulleted (alleged) vibrator bomber, Terry Allen Lester, after another woman he had been staying with alerted them to Lester’s undelivered gift, which he’d (allegedly) left behind with her, along with a bunch of bomb-making equipment and another vibrator, upon which he’d written “Merry X-mas Bitch” with a black marker, and which he apparently had intended to give to yet another ex.

There was still another vibrator in Lester’s bag, with no gunpowder in it and nothing nasty written on it; he’d apparently intended this for a third ex. No word on why he was being so much nicer to her than to his two other exes. Or why he hadn’t actually given any of the gifts to any of his exes, though Christmas had come and gone by the time police were alerted to Lester’s little gift bag.

More on the case, along with the official “statement of probable cause,” at The Smoking Gun.

Thanks to Joe for tipping me off to this story.

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>Trogdor005 goes ghost

>

My new favorite commenter on the Happy Bachelors Forum is a fellow calling himself trogdor005, who pretty much lives up to his name, offering blunt misogynist rants with all the subtlety of a caveman. A caveman who has figured out how to change font size and add animated smileys to his posts. So here is the first in a new series, “The Wit and Wisdom of Trogdor005.”

Today’s topic: “Going ghost.” For those not conversant with the latest in angry-man slang, this is a term adopted by the manosphere that’s basically a variant on Men Going Their Own Way — that is, disengaging from women and as much as possible from society itself. A man who goes ghost is, of course, a ghost.  Here’s how you use it in a sentence: 

That creepy douchebag who lives alone in the basement apartment and scowls every time a women walks by is a ghost.

Recently, one of the Happy Bachelors ran across a blog post by a woman who mocked the whole “ghost” notion:

I admit it, every time I read about some guy in the manosphere declaring that he or other men are going to go ghost, I laugh. I laugh real hard. When I have nothing else to laugh about because it feels as if nothing is going my way I think of those men, I laugh, and I am instantaneously cheered up.

The bulk of men are not willing to go ghost–no matter how bad things in the sexual and economic marketplace skew in favor of women–and even if large numbers of them did, most of those men would not be missed and eventually they would return to society, chastened by their transgression at acting on such a foolish endeavor.

This post MAKE TROGDOR MAD! So he banged out a response.  He began by showing off his hard-won font-size-modification and smiley skills:

Then he moved into the meat of his argument:

The bottom line is men can avoid women entirely and there is NO FORCE on Earth that can force us into “marriage” or even a “relationship” with a woman minus a gun to the head. Even if the Guv’ment succeeds in somehow “forcing” men to get married, we as ghosts know what makes you bitches tick and can simply become unemployed intentionally, become fat stinky slobs, treat you very nicely/well, or more devastatingly effective, say the words “I love you” and cause you to instantly lose ALL attraction for us and be miserable in your Guv’ment arranged “marriages” ;D … The icing on the cake is that, when you inevitably file for “divorce” after years of unhappiness/New Cock Urge it is YOU who will pay US men “alimony” and “child support” since we were unemployed during the “marriage” hahahahhahaha ;D

Yes, you heard it right ladies, even if the government gives in to your dastardly desires and actually forces men to marry you, they can defeat you without lifting a finger, literally, except when their fingers are needed to shove food into their mouths.

Trogdoor005 then rallied the troops with some stirring rhetoric:

Men are winning the “gender war” and there is NOTHING the wimminz can do about it … The matriarchy needs a steady supply of manginas/husbands to feed the system and keep it running, a ghost is the anti-thesis of the mangina/husband and therefore MUST be discredited, silenced, and destroyed.

Many of us men will go on to lead happy, fulfilling lives, meanwhile many of these same Femini-nazi bitches will end up with cats and vibrators in their old age.

Here’s where Trogdor005 went wrong: plenty of non-elderly women have cats and vibrators already.

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>Pee-ple Power

>

Future revolutionaries?

On January 1, 2010, a day that will live in … calendars from last year, the blogger at The Futurist published a long-winded crackpot screed called The Misandry Bubble, which rehashed a bunch of standard-issue “manosphere” memes — doofus sitcom dads oppress men! beta man can’t get laid! marriage sucks!  — in one exceedingly pretentious package. While rampant misandry and uppity women were destroying American civilization from within, he argued, the “Four Horsemen of Male Emancipation” would rescue us all and put those dirty feminists and White Knights in their place. One of the Horsemen? Virtual reality sex toys for men.

To say that Mr. Futurist was optimistic about his ability to predict the future popping of the “misandry bubble”  is a wild understatement. His manifesto, he declared, was

a guide to the next decade of social, political, and sexual strife …  As the months and years of this decade progress, this article will seem all the more prophetic.

Naturally, with so many in the manosphere being pretentious douches who like having their own crackpot notions repeated back to them in pretentious language, The Misandry Bubble was a smashing success, and became for a time the talk of angry-man town.

I’ve been meaning to write about it for awhile, but that would have required me to actually reread the damn thing.

But Mr. Futurist has beaten me to the punch. On January 1, 2011, “exactly 365 days after The Misandry Bubble was posted,” he posted his long-awaited followup. It starts off as portentiously (and pretentiously) as his original manifesto:

We have completed the first year of the decade of The Misandry Bubble, and I remain as convinced as ever that The Misandry Bubble will correct by 2020 no matter what due to the Four Horsemen of Male Emancipation.  However, there is much to lose if the correction is turbulent, rather than orderly.  Millions of innocent men and women can be saved from wrenching misfortune if we act now to fight the culture of misandry that is cancerously pervading the entire Western world.

So how does one fight such a hydra-headed menace as modern misandry? Mr. Futurist, borrowing a page from third-world revolutionaries, suggests that what is needed to save “millions … from wrenching misfortune” is a “a simple, low risk solution that enable this small civilian force [of MRAs] to wage asymmetrical warfare against misandry.”

This solution?

Urinal flyers. 

Yep. His grand plan to save civilization from “misandry” is for a super seekret guerilla army of angry dudes to put up little posters above urinals in public restrooms suggesting that dudes taking a piss  … go read The Spearhead, or some other manosphere site with “a professional appearance and clean format.” He calls this campaign “URLs @ Urinals.”

I shit you not. (Or perhaps that should be “I piss you not.”)

Here’s his explanation:

Male restrooms in public buildings have urinals.  When a man is using a urinal, he has no choice but to see the blank wall that is directly in front of his face above the urinal at eye-level.  Every man taller than 5’2″, whether young or old, rich or poor, is a captive audience for that brief passage of time.  …

If a man sees a flyer that provokes a jolting thought where he leasts expects it, he will remember it for a long time to come.  Those of us who have studied and practiced Neuro-Linguisting Programming (NLP) will recognize this as a very strong anchor, and thus ensure that he will remember the seed planted in his mind in many future instances of standing in front of a urinal.  The periodic recollection will be unshakeable, due to such a strong anchor being planted.  Whenever he hears of yet another such situation again, he will think back to the thought evoked by the flyer he saw on that day. 

Mr. Futurist refers to this strategy, with utter seriousness, as “piercing the Matrix.” You know, like in The Matrix.

All that remains to be done, besides purchasing a roll of tape, is to come up with some appropriately “jolting” posters. Mr. Futurist has already come up with a bunch of them. They won’t win any awards for clever design, or clever wordplay, or even “World’s Greatest Grandpa,” but, hey, if they’re printed up on sheets of paper they can indeed be considered flyers. Here’s one:

And another one, perhaps my favorite:

Our good friend ReluctantNihilist from Reddit — who apparently is none other than Jay Hammers, whom you may remember from my The Worst of the Men’s Rights Movement post — has already come up with a few of his own slogans:

The Constitution no longer protects men and boys.What happened?

Chivalry is Dead And Women Killed It

Why do men die younger than women?It’s not just biological.The truth may surprise you.

Buying That Girl Drinks Will Get You Nowhere

All it will take to bring these sorts of messages to a million men, Mr. Futurist estimates, is a mere 1000 hours of collective action, printing up and posting these little flyers in the men’s restrooms of America. “Which could,” he explains,

plant a seed in the minds of hundreds of thousands of them.

Which could lead to tens of thousands of them reading the websites introduced in the flyers.

Which could result in several thousand more men becoming fully educated about the various dimensions of misandry that are silently enslaving them.

Now, Mt. Futurist realizes there will be naysayers amongst the evil misandrists of the world. As he explains, with typical understatement:

Already in a stupor of castrative bloodlust, ‘feminists’ will be tipped into hysteria by the thought of more men being sent information from outside the plantation.  Their reactions will span the whole range of derangement, from demands for taxpayer-funded armed guards to apprehend flyer posters, to feminists barging into men’s rooms to inspect for evidence of ‘misogyny’, to calls for outright bans on urinals themselves as ‘male supremacist’ appliances, to increasingly bold statements regarding the need to reduce the male population to a fraction of what it currently is … .

Also, he observes, some people might actually tear down the flyers. But do not be daunted, good men, for

that action is futile as due to the viral nature of ‘URLs @ Urinals’ they have no idea where or when the next flyers will be posted.  They will, as mentioned before, double down on their pedestalization of women.  But they can only double down so many times, and this will accelerate the process of them cracking under the burdens of their ignorance.

So onward and upward, urinal-flyer-posting men! I guess I’ll have to check back in a year to see if the revolution has begun.

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>Quiz: Jezebel … or Andrea Dworkin?

>Here’s one easy way to tell if someone is from another planet. Specifically, Planet I’m-So-Crazed-by-My-Hatred-of-Feminism-That-My-Brain-Has-Imploded. They post comments on Reddit containing this sentence:

Hmm. I’m not what you’d call a big fan of Andrea Dworkin, but I have read her work, and unless my memory is faulty, I don’t recall her writing much about Ryan Gosling, lip stain, or baby giraffes.

So here’s a little quiz to see if you can tell the difference between Jezebel and Andrea Dworkin. Some of the quotes below come from recent Jezebel articles; some come from Dworkin. I also threw in a quote from Ryan Gosling as well, just for the hell of it. So who said what? (Answers below.)

a) Intercourse in reality is a use and an abuse simultaneously, experienced and described as such, the act parlayed into the illuminated heights of religious duty and the dark recesses of morbid and dirty brutality.
b) I freely admit that I watch some shitty, shitty television, and if it weren’t for my sense of shame, I’d probably watch a lot more of it. I can’t get enough of The Bachelor, which combines the most terrible aspects of dating, the weirdest aspects of arranged marriages, and sociopaths.
c) The sexual colonialization of women’s bodies is a material reality: men control the sexual and reproductive uses of women’s bodies. In this system of male power, rape is the paradigmatic sexual act.
d) Women’s bodies are possessed by men. Women are forced into involuntary childbearing because men, not women, control women’s reproductive functions. Women are an enslaved population–the crop we harvest is children, the fields we work are houses.
e) Pie is just fine as a partner for the weak coffee of church basements, for Thanksgiving, for dessert at a roadside cafe in Harmony, Minneosta, but for high falutin’ snacking, you cannot beat the elegant convenience of the cupcake.
f) If I eat a huge meal and I can get the girl to rub my belly, I think that’s about as romantic as I can think of.

ANSWER KEY: What, are you a fucking idiot? Oh, ok, the last one is the Ryan Gosling quote. I really, really, really hope you can figure out the rest on your own.

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>You mean coitus?

>

The post-coital Dude and Maude

Let’s take a break from misogyny for a moment to take a look into the wild and wacky world of homophobia. Sexy, sexy homophobia. By which I mean this attempt, by homophobe-con Robert George and two colleagues to explain why only heterosexual penis-in-vagina sex counts as real, proper sex:

In coitus, but not in other forms of sexual contact, a man and a woman’s bodies coordinate by way of their sexual organs for the common biological purpose of reproduction. They perform the first step of the complex reproductive process. Thus, their bodies become, in a strong sense, one—they are biologically united, and do not merely rub together—in coitus (and only in coitus), similarly to the way in which one’s heart, lungs, and other organs form a unity: by coordinating for the biological good of the whole. In this case, the whole is made up of the man and woman as a couple, and the biological good of that whole is their reproduction.

So: No gay sex. No lesbian sex. No blow jobs. No dry humping. No finger-fucking. No pegging. No happy endings. 

If you’re interested,  Alas, a blog’s Barry Deutsch offers a detailed critique of the paper in which this wondrous quote appears over on FamilyScholars.org; George et al reply here.

All this talk of coitus reminds me of one of my many favorite exchanges in The Big Lebowski, between Maude Lebowski and The Dude:

MAUDE: Do you like sex, Mr. Lebowski?

DUDE: Excuse me?

MAUDE: Sex. The physical act of love. Coitus. Do you like it?

DUDE: I was talking about my rug.

MAUDE: You’re not interested in sex?

DUDE: You mean coitus?

MAUDE: I like it too. It’s a male myth about feminists that we hate sex. It can be a natural, zesty enterprise. But unfortunately there are some people–it is called satyriasis in men, nymphomania in women–who engage in it compulsively and without joy.

DUDE: Oh, no.

Talk dirty to me, Maude Lebowski!

(Thanks to Amanda Marcotte’s twitter and alicublog for alerting me to George’s crazy quote.)