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Sloppy Seconds: Why Some Men Double-Dip.

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Like putting my hand on a hot stove, eating human flesh, or walking into a gay club wearing assless chaps, there are some things I innately just don’t want to do. Not only do I have no desire to do these things–they actually repulse me. I think for most sane, heterosexual men, the same is true.

There are certain things we like and things we just…don’t. We like Jessica Biel’s ass, but not Kimbo Slice’s. We like when our boys bring girls to the party, but not when our girls bring boys. We prefer our phone calls resemble the way we shop: with an objective and a sense of brevity, and definitely not “just to see how you were feeling???” And, until recently I thought, we like getting a girl ourdamnselves, and avoiding our boy’s sloppy seconds at any and all costs…

But, alas, it appears I am wrong.

What I believed was the overwhelming natural drive of the human male instinct to steer clear of anywhere his homeboy has put “his pipi” has now been relegated to the conscientious preference of an enlightened and reasonably secure modern man, who out of respect–both of you and himself–chooses to not double-dip his pig in a blanket (or sans blanket as the case may be). In other words, I think putting my pipi where my friend’s pipi has been is kind of gross (within a reasonably long time frame), and though I know a lot of you agree, apparently, the sentiment is not unanimous. Still, baffled by this revelation, I decided to dig deeper–to uncover the root of my aversion to hand-me-down vagin.

Freud might say that it’s an issue of repressed homosexuality or homophobia. And while I definitely would rather not taste my bro’s cock in a girl’s mouth (figuratively, of course…I pray), I am a reasonable person and I realize that unless she’s a virgin (and not from Puerto Rico where anal sex “isn’t really sex”), she’s been with men before me, and good for her! The last thing that I want at this age is to teach anybody anything–I went to NYU, and I’m all about that no-double-standard/”ladies, you get yours”/”vibrators are a welcomed helper, not my enemy”-mentality. So, basically, I’m tossing out that theory. Besides, Freud was a coke head, and we all know how much bullshit they can spew through grinding teeth.

But what about as a primal instinct? What of my previous conception of a male repulsion to sloppy seconds as a natural mechanism? Well, all of our instincts exist, in fact, as survival mechanisms. We like what we like and dislike what we dislike because it benefits our survival as a species, as an animal, and as an individual. Food tastes good so we’ll eat it. Sex feels good so we’ll have it, and procreate. And, when we act outside of those parameters, we are either behaving in an enlightened manner, or insanely (the line is very thin at times). It is, precisely, this exceptional clause to the pure, instinctual, and selfish drive for survival that makes us human–the ability to love, and conversely, to hate. But I digress, we were talking about “understudy cock”–

So, if we want to look at it through a primal lens we have to go back to primitive times. In caveman times, humans were nomadic, tribal, possessive, and lacking a spoken language, prone to resolving conflicts in a physical manner. If Fred bangs Wilma, Wilma is his. Even if Fred isn’t committed to Wilma, Barney still can’t come over and bang Wilma, unless he wants Fred to bash his brains out of his head with the nearest club-like rock. (Don’t ask me where this leaves Betty… :-(. )

This is called an alpha-male social structure. Our cousin, the monkey, still exhibits this behavior today. I watched this awesome show on Animal Planet where a big, alpha monkey is sleeping up in a tree and all his monkey-bitches are chilling at the base of the tree, waiting to get banged, I guess. And off in the distance, in the brush, is a smaller, beta monkey, eying all the fine, monkey honnies chilling under the alpha monkey’s tree. Real quiet like, the little monkey creeps toward the females, while 6 or 7 of his boys chill out in the brush, supposedly handling the look out. Just when the little monkey starts going at it with who I assume was the hottest monkey chick (and she was just giving it away–let me tell you), BOOM, the big monkey drops out of the tree…PISSED. His boys had snoozed (monkey A.D.D. is bad), and then sold their boy out quick, dipping into the jungle. The little monkey takes off running, but eventually, the big monkey catches him and bases him. As a 5’9″, 150 lb. Homosapian… I feel for the little dude.

Now, if things still worked this way–if we still acted like monkeys, with women as possessions and battling for the right to bang them–I guarantee sloppy seconds would be virtually non-existent. But, since we’re human, we evolved, and decided it would be better to “forgive and forget”, “love thy neighbor”, and all that good shit. But that doesn’t change the fact that INSTINCTIVELY I should have a healthy aversion to sharing a pipi-pouch with my good buddy. This can only mean that men who are cool with double-dipping are being driven overwhelmingly by another important instinct: sex.

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Men who are capable of ignoring what their gut, their heart, and their mind tell them is just not right, are lonely men, listening solely to their cock, and thus are blinded by the desperate need for pussy. Those of us who respect the unspoken No-Sloppy-Seconds policy are either getting laid frequently enough off our own merit that it isn’t an issue, or, we simply have character. Like I said before, acting despite our primitive drives for survival is either a higher-consciousness, or a thing of lunacy. Those of us who repel from the double-dippage are respecting a survival instinct that, thanks to law and order, is no longer socially necessary–chances are we won’t be clubbed to death. We do so out of a desire to be a man of character. Those who don’t have been overcome and mastered by their impulse to penetrate vagina, and are basically little beta-monkeys running around because they can get away with it without getting based.

Essentially, they put their neglected pipi where yours has just been because they can. We do not, because we don’t want to. So what does this say about us, and our needy hyena-like “friends”?

I think the Academy-Award Winners, the Three6Mafia, put it best:

“Boys do what they can–Men do what they want. Ya heard?”

April 13th, 2008 | share

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