Its one thing being a sex-addict. I mean, orgasms rock. With the right partner, the myriad ways to explore your addiction can be limitless. Now that's what I call a Stimulus Package. Who can say anything bad about a nice package? I sure won't.
But what happens when you find no one willing to play your games anymore? If you have insatiable appetites, you find you could literally use your partner up. All that's left is the longing, that sweet rush you get just thinking about fulfillment. You need. You want. You crave. You luuuuust.
Its like chasing the dragon, man. That high of one more conquest, one more rolling, deep endless thrill that makes every part of you tremble and spasm in bliss... it's so wondrous until its over. From an addict's point of view, it's totally unfair that it has to be over. There should be more, even if you have to invent new ways, new tools and toys to make it happen. You can discover new, rare wonders in self-stimulation. You no longer have to worry about what anyone wants but you. You say when it starts, how long it will last and when its over. You can self-serve without obligation, conscience or limits. Yummmm.
For an addict? It just doesn't get any better.
Enter the JOBS act.
Lets face it man, the game of chasing money and power is really all about sex. It must be. I mean, drug addictions kill you, but sex addiction just makes you hornier.
They used to draw their fix from the masses, and they didn't just suck us dry, they've sucked us inside out. We have no more juice to give them. Hell, we can't even get a bit part as a fluffer. That has been outsourced.
Next it was the investment class. Whoa, now THAT was a challenge... those bastards had to be courted. Wined, dined, sixty-nined before they could elicit them to spread wide for the reaming of Wall Street. Pensions, investments and hedges, oh my! It was a crass act of triple penetration that left them used, confused, bruised and abused.
So when we the people started saying, "Whoa dudes. Use a condom. We want safe-sex from now on," they just laughed in our faces and showered champagne down from balconies on us, spraying our upturned faces in the fizz of their excesses. The money shot.
They own the masses, they own all the money, they own all the power, they own all the governments; there's little challenge left in doing anyone else. But they are addicts. It feels so good to get thiers.
So what left to do but stimulate their own economy? Touch themselves, really, just for the sake of touching themselves. For the sheer pleasure of it.
Matt Taibbi says their new toy "SUCKS" and I think he's right. Its an auto-suck, a vibrator and a clit tickler rolled into one. Its the epitome of masturbation machines.
Basically it does this. It announces we just made up our own rules to play a new game for our pleasure. You are not invited to play. Hell, you can watch, but only on pay-per-view. Wait. Strike that - its pay-for-view, maybe later, we'll see, if we feel like it, years from now, kinda, maybe.... but pay anyway, just in case!
"We can create new whole sexual scenarios and for the next five years no one will be able to even know what we are doing. After that? Hahahahaha."
You'll be awash in fluids you haven't even heard of yet. And you thought the idea of Santorum was bad. There will be no post-coital bliss. There will be no explanations needed or given.
I mean, its no longer about you, dear readers. They don't need anyone anymore. They have discovered self-stimulation, and they are addicts.
Maybe, if we ask really nice? They'll let us change the sheets when its over.