How in the fuck am I going to survive the econopocalypse? Seriously. What’s your plan? Do you have a plan? What should my plan be? Holy. Fucking. Shit. I am so scared.
Man, Often Nervous, Econopocalypse = Yeek!
Your question touches me. I, too, am scared. In the immortal words of whoever it was who said it: “Beware a well-armed citizenry with the emotional maturity of a toddler.” The big cat thing is also spooky. They’re taking over split-levels outside SoCal. I don’t know how to feel about it, though I find myself sort of rooting for the big cats. How much worse can they do in the suburbs than we did?
The long dream of American consumption is over. Gil Scott-Heron told us this would happen 25 years ago. Nobody listened. That’s our national specialty, it turns out. That and porn. You can count on the government to keep printing money – it’s what they do when the tea leaves read “busted” – but the real recovery program will be taken on by you, brother. Your personal economy is just about to wave bye-bye to the inefficiencies of abundance.
This brings us to Sugar’s No Depression Depression Plan.
1. Get used to having less
2. Channel your panic into starting a pot garden
3. Stop twittering
4. Stop checking Facebook
5. Stop watching Reality TV to make yourself feel less pathetic
6. Recruit an attractive boarder
7. Seduce your boarder using hot oil massage
8. Film your boarder and post the video on-line
9. Sell the film rights to your story to a man with BluRay technology
10. Reject the reflexive shame of material deprivation
11. Take inventory of your skills and embrace barter
12. Continue to get used to having less
Please remember that most of the world already makes do with much less. They don’t freak, they adapt. As fat and lazy as Americans have become, we remain human and, as such, capable of adaptation. There’s some chance we might even become less selfish in the process. Either that, or we’ll perish in a fiery ball of useless appliances. The choice is yours, Money.
A friend who is into adventurous sex told me that he was recently involved in a threesome (MMF). During the festivities he gave the other male a blowjob. He told me about this because he describes himself as a heterosexual male and he said that giving the blowjob made him feel bad the next day. I asked him if this had happened before and he said that it had, but not with any regularity or intent prior to the threesome; his actions were by his account, entirely impulsive.
Does giving another man a blowjob every once in awhile to add a little spice to a MMF threesome mean that you are at least bisexual? Said another way, are you in denial if every once-and-awhile you are blowing other guys, or is homo/bi-sexuality a conscious determination in spite of a behavioral pattern?
Is there something you want to tell Dr. Sugar?
Well here’s what Dr. Sugar wants to tell you: stop sweating the nomenclature. Is any dude who smokes a little spermpipe gay? Is there such a thing as second-degree fellatio? Is there some chart we can check? Come on. I’ve fucked about a third of the animal kingdom at this point, and forty or so inanimate objects. And the only label I’m willing to wear on my sleeve is H-O-R-N-D-O-G.
The real question is to what extent the average human being can tolerate his or her own sexual desires. Your pal’s behavior bugs you because you feel like he’s fronting. And this bugs you because you’re fronting. So okay.
One thing that might help is watching that new documentary about the Reverend Ted Haggard. If nothing else, it will provide the proper term for a man who tries to deny his biological impulses: miserable.