So, what's the deal with sex?

What IS the deal with sex? Now, granted, I have some of my own...hangups?...with sex, but setting those aside for a minute (you're welcome, Mom) I'd like to seriously talk about sex.

First of all, let me say, sex is fun. Or, at least, it should be. If sex is not fun, you're doing it wrong. (And, don't feel bad if this is the case. A lot of people aren't having fun. THAT'S what I want to talk about!)

But here's the thing about sex being fun - no one wants to talk about it. Anywhere. Ever. They get embarrassed if you bring it up. Why? We talk about other fun things all the time! And encourage people to participate in the fun with us (or without us, but for heaven's sake, go have some fun!)

For example, if I'm going to Disneyland, I invite everyone I know - because Disneyland is fun! I invite all my friends. I invite my family. I invite strangers on the street. I invite the waiter at Denny's. And when I get back, I tell all those people about all the fun I had so they'll want to go have some themselves. Because having fun is a good thing, right? I think we can all agree that fun is good and should be shared, yes? Great. Back to sex.

I'm not suggesting that you go have sex with strangers on the street (though, it might be fun, so I'm not going to knock it if that's what you choose to do. Fun is important! Just...you know...don't be stupid. Don't wiggle out of your safety restraints on the rides at Disneyland and absolutely use protection if you're having sex with strangers. But that's neither here nor there.) What I'm trying to figure out is why we want to tell everyone and their dogs about our fabulous trip to Disneyland, but we don't want to talk to our best friends about having great sex.

You guys. Great sex is fun!

The dude who currently resides upstairs from me just had boring sex. At least, I assume it was boring. It sounded boring from where I was sitting. The whole thing lasted all of three minutes and I heard heels in the stairwell maybe 45 seconds after the bed stopped squeaking. Did she have a train to catch? Is the building on fire? Did you kick her out? Sheesh, dude! Take a minute and enjoy yourself. Better yet, take a minute and make sure she enjoyed herself! There are rides at Disneyland that last longer than what you just did - literally.

See, that's one of the things about sex being fun - it takes two (or three or...you know...more than just you - not that that can't also be fun, that's just not what we're talking about here) - and if everyone involved isn't there to have a good time, what the hell are you there for?

Baby-making? I sincerely doubt it.

But how do we know we're all here to have fun if we don't talk about it? If we don't say things like, "OMG, I just had awesome sex. Everyone should be doing what I did last night," how will people know that sex should be awesome? Maybe the world isn't ready for the porno re-cap of every detail of your sex life, but you also don't typically mention every thing you ate while you were at Disneyland. It's enough to know that you were there and you had a great time and you EARNED those ridiculous mouse ears!

Yeah, I know. This has nothing to do with coming out. But, you know what I've learned from all my gay friends that I never heard about from the straight ones? Sex is FUN! (I guarantee you, the gays are not having sex for the purposes of pro-creation, and they're the only subset I know that genuinely want to talk about sex ALL THE TIME. Good for us! Yay fun!)

So. Get out there. Have some fun. Then talk about it. Talk to me. Find a gay friend and talk to them. Ask about my trip to Disneyland. I hereby declare war on whatever this weird phobia is we all seem to have about talking about sex. Sex sex sexy sex. Sex. I like it. I have it. You probably have too. If you haven't, you've probably thought about it. Sex. Let's talk.