We may blog while our frozen coffee drinks melt, but we would really
rather be fucking like our caveman ancestors, our ancestral pilgrim
settlers, our slave-owning forebears, and our white-trash in-laws. It's
our way. (It's mine, anyway.)
Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex by Mary Roach sounds like my kind of book:
In writing about sexuality, a
universally loaded subject if there ever was one, the tendency is often
either to arouse or entertain. Roach pounces upon the latter, relishing
in turns of phrase guaranteed to make readers cross their legs and
other writers seethe with jealousy that they didn't think of it. "For
ten-plus centuries, the womb was considered less an organ than an
independent creature, able to move about the woman's body like a badger
in its den."
An erection "is a respectable achievement, but it is not enough. An
erection, like a motorcycle or a lawn, must also be maintained."
"Orgasm appears to be a state not unlike that of the alien abductees
one always hears about, coming to with messy hair and a chunk of time
An irrepressible eagerness shines throughout "Bonk," the joyful
urge to show off the fruits of the journey. You can almost imagine the
author sitting in a library surrounded by stacks of research, fighting
the impulse to scream and punch the air upon discovering her favorite
quote of all time from Kinsey: "Cheese crumbs spread in front of a
copulating pair of rats may distract the female, but not the male."
I can relate. I'm never distracted by cheese crumbs.