As I searched for church groups on the Internet, I accidentally found myself at an adult pornographic website. Along the top and side of the page I saw ads for “Sex Facebook” and “Facebook of Sex.” So I thought, “What a horribly awesome idea!”
If Sexbook actually existed, I don’t know if I’d join or not. I’ve already been sexually taken advantage of by plenty of the women who are my regular Facebook friends. I thought it would be funny to count all my friends that I’ve seen naked, then I remembered I had a streaking streak in university, and I’ve seen a lot of my dude friends naked.
Does she shave or at least trim? Is she one of those “I fuck with my bra on” girls? I mean, I know most girls I enjoy orgasms with aren’t virgins. And I know many of my friends have inadvertently banged the same chicks. Hell, one of my old bosses and I just found out we hooked up with three of the same girls—and none of them were particularly loose in the morals department. Okay, two of them were very loose, and the other one was our other friend’s girlfriend. But what-fucking-ever.
Back to Sexbook.
If I did join, I’d be a lot more interested in checking out people’s photos and videos. If they were hot chicks I’d consider joining their groups—and by groups I mean hot girl + hot girl + hot girl + kc orgies. Plus, status updates would be crucial, because then you would figure out how many STDs that blonde chick I nicknamed “Platinum Pro” had.
I mean, who doesn’t already check the Facebook (or MySpace if you’re an old geezer) page of your new girlfriend, boyfriend, fuck buddy or—most importantly—the girl you want to be your new fuck buddy?
You find out some important information. The minute I see some Michael Moore or Bill O’Reilly quotes on a girl’s page, I know they’re mostly retarded, and reserve them for nights I want to get drunk, not think, and still get laid. Because stupid girls generally have more sex than smart girls.
Also, when you check out your mate’s page, you can prepare yourself for disasters—such as movie time. When I know the ins and outs of my beau, and she says, “Let’s rent a video,” and I end up gritting my teeth in Blockbuster and she says, “Let’s look for princess movies,” I always know to say, “You’ve already seen the stupid-ass Disney movies. Let’s find ‘Hip Hop Ninjas Kill Werewolves in Party Town.'” And then I win, because I have all the black ops intel from Facebook.
Now, with the Facebook of Sex, you could figure out your sexual partner’s favorite positions. Not that I really care, because I like all of them except for the complicated shit. Does she hate giving blowjobs? How many painful breakups could have been prevented if you knew that before you started macking on some uppity skank?
As I’ve sort of stated, I don’t really give a shit about a girl’s sexual history. As long as she hasn’t worked as an “athletic trainer” for the Dallas Cowboys or something, I just don’t want to know. But I do want to know if she’s a talker. I don’t care if she tells her friends about our sexy times (there’s the dirty talking girls, who say, “Oh my God you fuck me so fucking awesomely”), but there are a lot of girls who just can’t fucking shut up, even when you’re fucking them. Guys, you know what I’m talking about. You’re pumping away and instead of hearing your friends congratulating you in the background, your auditory system is overloaded with, “And then Becky said to Steph, ‘But I wanted to buy the soooo-cute yellow ducky shirt.’ Oh, can you spank my ass a few times. Do you like my hair like this, or should I stick it up. Speaking of stick up, can you stuff a finger or two in my butthole? I like that. I also like chocolate. Just kidding. I love chocolate. I love it almost as much as I like sex. I like sex, but chocolate is just so…chocolatey!”
You could also check on somebody’s Sexbook wall. What type of messages are up there? She could be writing on people’s walls, “That’s the most anal I’ve ever done.” This could be a deal breaker… or maker for some of us. Or she could be sending you Sexbook emails like, “2day I just want u to eat BBQ ribs and get blowjobs while watching Buffy. And then it’s hot tub massage time for u.” With those types of messages, I’d be checking my account ten times a day. Not that I don’t do that already with regular old Facebook of Sex, but now I’d actually pay attention to what my girl says.
There’s so much good Sexbook could do for my sex life—and yours too I guess. Does she shave or at least trim? Is she one of those “I fuck with my bra on” girls? Does she come to cum and stay or does she leave? Are we talking about pancake-sized nips or chocolate chipples? Does she believe in sex for procreation or recreation? Is she going to encourage me to set up threesomes, or is she going to get really offended by it? Same with getting boob upgrades? These are the things I need to know.
And that’s why Sexbook could never exist.
Your only options now? Write a friendly letter to Mark Zuckerberg.