Welcome to Skanksville

Over the weekend I received a voice message from a friend who was attending a connubial celebration in country Victoria with her new found man. It was the third call in as many hours, but by this stage my friend was well intoxicated and had recounted her recent pounding by her man’s “pretty” cock to me.

Now I’m not one to condone great sex, in fact, I celebrate my friend finding someone who is half decent and can find the ever elusive G-Spot (she has had some poor porkers in the past). She deserves to have great sex with a great guy who has a “pretty” cock. Whooo Hoo! I say.

But I had to wonder, when you receive a voice message that replicates a drunken dancing Boris Yelstin speaking a hybrid of Russian and Swahili, for example, at a political rally in Tiananmen Square and the only words you can understand are “Hello” and “Drunk”, how far is too far? Sure, one night stands are great for scratching an itch that we’ve all had at one time or another, but if you’re into someone and you are hoping for a solid future together, surely a drunken night at a wedding is not the ideal scenario. Are you just seen as an easy lay?

A continuance of such activity is almost certainly guaranteed to get you a reputation amongst certain circles which may not necessarily be complimentary and may even see changes in behaviour from friends. For instance, when Sex and the City’s Charlotte met up with her college girlfriends from Kappa Kappa Gamma and burst into a tirade about how much she really wanted to be fucked, her Kappa Kappa Gamma girlfriends were not impressed and dismissed her immediately - despite the fact that they were probably bigger whores than Charlotte ever was.

I once worked with a girl who on the surface was an intellectual type, but once she was let out of the good-girl cage and poured alcohol down her gullet, she quite literally became a different person. Soon enough hearsay started to trickle down the grapevine and her sexcapades on and around the office started to become the juiciest gossip since a nest of baby rats were found in the store room. She’s married now, but for most people who worked with her, she is seen in a totally different light, tarnished in scarlet. An unfortunate result for someone who has it all going for her.

Another girl I worked with introduced herself to a long-term friend of mine in an equally questionable manner: “Hi I’m Linda, I’ve slept with half of Glenroy”. An interesting way to introduce yourself to someone you’ve never met. Since that introduction, I always saw her as a total slut who flaunted her image as if it were an Olympic Gold Medal.

My friend’s sexual adventures provide the two of us with hours of entertainment as she recounts them to me over coffee or a hit of retail therapy. And hey, if her man’s cock is “long, pink, amazing”… then who am I to argue? Just stay safe.

Paris is one classy chick