The Numbers Game


Perhaps you remember a number of years ago, I put up a post admitting to how many menz I had been intimate with.  It was a substantial number (after a bit of “carry the 2 divide by 12, and round up” it turned out to be 11,815.96.  Roughly,) but I had been under the assumption it was pretty average for a poof of my age.  Turned out, I was wrong, ot at least, out of step with my readers.

Imagine my surprise to be reminded of that long gone, ill advised post by the CDC and their shaky research:


I have to agree with Mme. Clinton, that number seems ludicrously low.  6.6 times around the block was a Tuesday evening for me when I lived in New Orleans.  And not a particularly hot one, either.  Even if I am suspicious that quite a few of the respondents answered with one eye on their wife looking over their shoulder, that result is so low that I alone would have skewed it at least a point or two.  And taken as a whole, the few, tattered remains of the Queer Nation generation would have totally thrown their calculations through the roof.

I figure they must have over represented the incels in their count to average us sluts out. Incels are these sad, creepy guys who, according to our old friend Wikipedia, “involuntary celibate” (shortened to “incel”) refers to self-identifying members of an online subculture based around the inability to find a romantic or sexual partner despite desiring one, a state they describe as “inceldom” or “incelibacy”.”

Which is all well and good, but it doesn’t touch on their peculiar seething rage at the women they claim to desire.  Could that be part of the reason they’re missing out on the sweet, sweet love?  They blame everything on women not being as oppressed as they once were, advocate brutality against them, and then repine that they ain’t getting any of that good booty.  Or as Lovin is Really My Game would have it “I cain’t get no man/ Hangin out at the discotech….”

They also are very bitter about the love deck being stacked against them because of their looks, which I admit can be a tough sell:

But they long for connection with GIRLS and girls are known to often overlook doggy appearances. Besides, a lid for every pot and all that.

Here some guys we all know are prolly not worrying about their celibacy




About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

17 responses »

  1. 6.6? Not only did I make he same face as Ms Clinton…but if I wasn’t so tired, I’d be rolling and laughing with gusto over my number. 6.6. Hell…that number is the plane still on the runway not even with the engines fired up yet.

    Hope you doing well dear.


  2. Like you, I wonder how the CDC got those numbers. Who did they poll? High school freshmen? Dockworkers in Idaho? Members of the Westboro Baptist Church?


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