Is there anything more blissful than a sexual session that lasts an entire weekend? Send all my calls to voicemail because the wife and I are planning on having an epic weekend-long tantric sex session that may set the Guinness World Record for “Most Erotic Weekend.” However, throughout my sexual journeys across the globe, I’ve noticed something. There are less and less younger people attending viewing parties for my tantric sexcapades. I find myself surrounded by Dorothys and Winifreds more and more and less surrounded by anyone who isn’t a card-carrying member of the AARP.
That’s right. Millennials are refusing to come to my tantric sex school, opting to swipe left and right on their phones for quick hookups.
Since I have your attention already because I’ve stated the truth about millennials killing another great aspect of American life, I should probably inform you as to what tantric sex is. It’s all about the art of staring at each other naked from across a room and not orgasming but like almost orgasming. Two lovers whose spirits are entwined could put on a TV series on Netflix and let it play throughout the weekend. Something like The Andy Griffith Show works exceptionally well because of the titillating beauty of Andy Taylor balanced out by the grotesque features of Barney Fife. It’s like watching an erotic porn that keeps cutting to moments of Guy Fieri eating during episodes of Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.
Then, after a few days of binge-watching, mild dirty talk, heavy petting, and planning bathroom renovations, you achieve orgasm with each other. It’s 72 hours of bliss. But for some reason, you young adults don’t want to experience pure-eroticism. You just wanna finger your phones.
I’ve seen what you millenials are up to on your Tinders, Ok Cupids, Grinders, and Farmers Only apps. You look at a picture of someone then send them the same message you send to everyone else which was actually clever, the first time you used it 6 months ago. Oh, would you really rearrange the alphabet to put “U” and “I” together? That’s a lie, and it’s going to completely fuck up the alphabet song. A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H-J-K-L-M-N-O-P-Q-R-S-T-U-I-V-W-X-Y-Z…. It doesn’t work, you dumb kid.
Then there’s all this swiping. Swipe left. Swipe right. Swipe up. Swipe down. I put my hand up on your hip, and then we just dip dip dip. How can you find the person you want to know biblically from a profile? Will Theo from Boston grab his [Editor’s note: Too graphic for our readers] on your feet after only knowing him through your phone? It may say he’s a dog lover but how does he feel about [Editor’s note: Too graphic] for hours on end? A profile won’t give that to you. Can Trish from San Jose take four days off of work to [Editor’s note: Too graphic] to only achieve orgasm [Editor’s note: Too graphic] during the series finale of NYPD Blue? You’ll never know because you’re too busy going back to swiping, you Neanderthal.
You can’t find a book on tantric sex on your Tinders. But you could find it at a local library, something Millenials are probably killing too. I haven’t looked into it but I’m usually too busy at the library printing Kama Sutra positions on the copier. (This week, the wife and I are attempting the Tripadam. You can swing my yurt in Door County, Wisconsin to watch, if you want.)
When it came to sex and [Editor’s note: Too graphic] back in my day, it was the game of games. After you found a woman you wanted to court, you had to make sure to buy her the correct dreamcatcher. If she was more of an eagle feather type of woman and you bought her a dreamcatcher with a swan feather… oh boy…. You were in trouble. And even if you bought her the right dreamcatcher, if your chakras weren’t aligned with each other, you’d have to find the right crystal to get you both on the same page. And frankly, if a woman and I can’t bond through Jasper or Obsidian, she can kiss my third eye and go straight to Naraka.
Millennials are all spoiled anyway. Back in my day, if you wanted to [Editor’s note: Too graphic], you had to walk 5 miles in 2 feet of snow, uphill… both ways. Oh, do you think that’s impossible, you spoiled-ass millennial? Well, if you learned a bit more about me, you would know that I grew up on a set of Penrose stairs, so who’s exaggerating now? And even if I got to the woman’s house I wanted to [Editor’s note: Too graphic] on, I’d have to first speak with her living family members to discuss the connection between mind and body. And if they didn’t like my answer, I’d have to reschedule and write them an apology letter before the next moon cycle. You don’t even know when the next moon cycle is, do you? Of course not. You’re too busy swiping in order to get your rocks off.
You millennials have it easy and you love Taylor Swift. Ugh. She is vanilla bean ice cream on a raft to Muspelheim. Good luck swallowing that when your throat is on fire and your skin melts from the flames. If I have to hear another Taylor Swift song while picking up my groceries at Whole Foods, I’m going to write a stern letter. Hey Whole Foods, go back to playing that weird jazzy French shit you used to play before this garbage heap of pop music invaded your store. Also, I need more varieties of Quinoa. Get on that.
When it comes to tantric. I need [Editor’s note: Too graphic]. Is that too much to ask? Just take off your clothes and join me as we both [Editor’s note: Too graphic] while [Editor’s note: Too graphic] as people watch us from a futon couch and [Editor’s note: Too graphic]. Doesn’t that sound better than swiping and [Editor’s note: Too graphic]? Yeah. It does tantric sex rules, and I want you all with me, there. Feeling the moment when [Editor’s note: Too graphic] and I climax. Please don’t let my tantric sex school die. It’s currently my only income, millennials. I’ll even give you a discount. The first tantric lesson, where I teach you [Editor’s note: Too graphic] will be free. Don’t you want sex for days without swiping? Please…
Please…
Please… Help me.
Also, if anyone has extra tickets for Tantric Ball 2019, hit me up. I heard Sophia DeMonieux will be there teaching the art of astral plane coitus. I know it’s sold out, but I totally need to find a way in. I can pay you in crystals and dreamcatchers if need be.
Fancy Boys Club 