Nose-picking and an anal sex primer
Monday 3 July 2006 @ 1:26 pm

I get a ton of shit from the wife for how often my finger’s up my nose. Anyone else got one of these spouses/girlfriends/boyfriends?

What’s the big fucking deal? I’m a smoker, so I get boogers. Where’s the harm in digitally cleaning that shit out? It’s not like I’m mining for gold then making a salty deposit in the Oral Bank or something. I pick, and depending on where I am, I flick. If I’m near a tissue, I’ll stuff the fruits of my labor in it, sure. But if no tissue’s handy? Zooooooom! Across the room it goes, for parts unknown. Wherever it lands ain’t my problem; it’s not up my nostrils anymore, and that’s all that matters.

I get a lot of “Just use a tissue to blow your nose, you fucking skeve.” However, blowing your nose doesn’t necessarily do the trick, y’know? The hard and crusties sometimes don’t always budge during the conventional nose-blow. A finger scrub’s the best way to guarantee no danglers. And don’t gimme any of this “Well use the tissue to scrape ‘em out” shit; tissues break, and then I’ve got this toxic bullshit up my shnoz as well as the nose crud. Tissues (or toilet paper) is for your ass, I say. THAT’S when you don’t want tactile contact with something coming out of your body: when a stench accompanies it. But boogers have no odor. I don’t use a Kleenex to wipe away sleepers (or eye crud); why the fuck would I use a tissue to get unscented waste out of some other hole in my body?

Why is seeing a finger up someone’s nose considered such bad form? I see someone picking their nose, I’m like “Now THERE’S a motherfucker I can TRUST.” Kids are notorious nose-pickers, and who’s more trustworthy than a child – unless, of course, that child’s Damien? However, I don’t recall ever seeing Damien pick his nose in either the original “Omen” or the recent remake, which strengthens my point even further: Satan’s spawn DOESN’T pick his nose. Who wants to be like that kid, with the bad bowl-cut and the constant scowl (in the remake, at least), pissing off baboons (in the original) and knocking your Mother off a top floor balcony (in both)? If the Anti-Christ is all about doing the opposite of what’s righteous, maybe picking your nose has the air of divinity about it?

We can learn a lot from those “Omen” flicks. The first time the concept of ass-fucking was introduced to me was via “The Final Conflict” – the under-appreciated third entry in the original “Omen” saga, starring Sam Neill as the now-adult Damien. He hooked up with this reporter lady, and at one point, they’re getting down. Suddenly, he flips the chick over and buries it, all evil-like, in her dumper. As an eleven year old without the benefit of an internet connection (or an internet, period), I was confused, to say the least. Sure – I knew about conventional sex (I used to shoplift “Hustler” from the local magazine store), but the horror in this woman’s eyes and the physical displeasure she was indicating spoke of some unforgivable act I wasn’t schooled in. I was watching the scene and imagining this dude’s sporting some kind of forked cock (I mean, he IS the devil), that’s got a hydra-like head that’s snapping at this poor lady’s snapper – hence all the crying. I turn to my brother and ask “What the hell’s going on, ya’ think?” And my brother explains that Damien’s getting all sorts of rectal with this chick.

“He’s putting it in her butt,” Brother Don tells me.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because he’s the devil. That’s what the devil does, I guess.”

Now, coming from a Catholic household and six years of Catholic school at this point, you’d imagine that’d be some kind of formative moment for both of us: like, from that moment forward, me and my brother would forever associate (or ASSociate) anal sex with Armageddon, and I’d grow up to be one of these “Gays are the devil’s pawns” kinda guys. Instead, my brother grew up to be gay (married to a man, and celebrating their thirteenth anniversary today, as a matter of fact), and I became something of an ass-man myself (though with the ladies). The only Armageddon it introduced was my brother and I growing up to be like “Armageddon me some ass!”

What I did take from “Final Conflict”, however, was that anal is something to be approached delicately. For that reason, I’m far less agro than Damien when it comes to the booty; I’m smoove. I’d have sex for the first time approximately two years after seeing that flick (I lost it at age thirteen, with a chick named Norma), but it’d be two more years after that before I got into some of my first digital ass-play with my then-girlfriend, in a parked VW Beetle. Oddly, Damien and his hate-fucking antics never once sprang to mind. There was no spooky music and howls of terror; it was actually all kinds of cool, because the two of us (the then-girlfriend and I) worked ourselves up into a teenage frenzy over the tresspassing into heretofore forbidden territory… until a cop knocked on the window with his flashlight and told us to move along. But from that moment forward, the genie was out of the bottle, and the ass was in play: any time I went down on a girl, sooner or later, the pinky would aid and abet my cunnilingus.

I remember having a conversation with Mewes about eating girls out, and being shocked to learn that he only did it with the chicks he really liked or was going to spend time with beyond a one-night stand. Going down on chicks was never an option for me; it was the standard. When you grow up fat, you’re never any chick’s first choice for fooling around, and any nookie you get is predicated more on your personality than your looks. Since I didn’t have the aesthetic advantage working for me, I decided that having the oral edge might improve my chances of getting action beyond the mercy-dry hump or third base fumblings. If a girl was gonna do me the courtesy of giving me a shot at the title, so to speak, I was gonna make an impression. So at age thirteen, I bought a gynecological textbook at a physician’s book shop and read that shit cover-to-cover, absorbing all the knowledge I could about the mysteries of the dickless. By age fourteen, I was – as Sam Kinison used to say – a lick-master from the Orient. You’d be surprised how many women will look past a flabby, swingin’ gutt if they know they’re gonna get eaten out with nearly surgical precision. And when you add digital-to-anal manipulation to the mix, any thought of you as a fat-ass seems to fly out the window (at least until she cums).

I wouldn’t have honest-to-goodness anal sex for another few years after that initial parked car experimentation. Then, like now, I was never the instigator; perhaps because of the impolite example Damien provided all those years prior, I figured that first move wasn’t mine to make. If a girl wanted to plumb those depths, she was gonna have to tell me to do so. It’s common courtesy, I’ve always figured: if I was a chick, I’d want to make that choice for myself – not have some oversexed horndog who’s already being given the gift of a lifetime get all greedy and go for broke of his own volition.

Contrary to what they tell us in porn, I’m of a firm belief that most chicks aren’t very into anal, but only opt for it in the heat of the moment. Sure, there are always exceptions that prove the rule; but if a sexual itinerary were to be established upfront, before things got hot-and-heavy, I think most women would be hard-pressed to utter “And then, you can drill my brown.” It’s only during the throes of passion, when common sense gives way to pure carnality, that anal suddenly becomes a seemingly good idea. For that reason, I’ve never rushed in with my dick where angels fear to tread; I’ll start with the fingers, and if reason doesn’t settle in at that point, I’ll eventually do as I’m told – though only in a spooning fashion. I mean, look at me: I’m not the guy you want on top of you during traditional sex, let alone when something as delicate as the sphincter’s at the epicenter of it all. If a guy my size loses his balance during man-on-top anal sex, the poor woman’s looking at future of colostomy bags. I don’t Damien-it; I’m the tenth-of-an-inch at a time type, leaving plenty of room for reversal of opinion. It also helps that I’m hung like a grape.

I guess what I’m getting at is this: I feel it’s totally okay to pick your nose. And anal is something you’ve gotta let your partner call the shots on and during.

However, picking your nose DURING anal? Probably not a good idea.

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