Why Must I be a Paraphiliast in Love?
So let’s assume for a second that you’re bored with your sex life. You’ve been hitched for a few years, your lady’s shot out a few kids, and things in the bedroom have just about grinded to a complacent halt. Now what do you do? Well, you could start auto-erotically asphyxiating yourself, maybe hanging from your closet jamb. Or, how about stocking up on a boatload of porn? Meh. All of these things sound great and all, but, as it turns out, you are a really, really weird mother fucker and you’d like to branch out into things just a touch more bizarre and crazy. It looks like you’re gonna have to start practicing Paraphilia, my friend! Congratulations! Wait, what? Here, this is the way Wikipedia defines it… and who doesn’t implicitly trust Wikipedia. Am I right?
Paraphilia is a biomedical term used to describe sexual arousal to objects, situations, or individuals that are not part of normative stimulation and that may cause distress or serious problems for the paraphiliac or persons associated with him or her. A paraphilia is a condition involving sex fetishes where a person’s sexual arousal and gratification depend on fantasizing about, and engaging in, sexual behavior that is atypical and extreme.
Yeah, now we’re getting somewhere. So what does this boil down to? Like what could I, as a normal Joe with a slightly sadistic side, fall into a sexual relationship with? A lamp? Barbecue tongs? Baseball cards? Well, I guess, but you need to broaden your idea of sexual attraction, son. I tell ya what, how about I elaborate with ten of the most bizarre, most outrageously fucked up sexual attractions around. Cuz folks love it when that happens…
Maybe you know this cat down at the subway station who’s missing a few limbs. He was made an amputee as a kid when he was born with non-functioning limbs and now he hangs around the underground chillin’ on a beach chair begging for change trying to get fools to fall for a game of 3-Card-Monty. He’s really proficient with that stump. You see him every day, and, well, you’ve kinda taken a shine to him. More of a shine, actually… you’ve been having dreams about getting funky with the dude. You, sir, have acrotomophelia cuz you have a sexual attraction to an amputee. Congrats.
So as it turns out you love to go hang out at your local Senior Citizen Center, hide in the hedgerow, and jerk off during ‘Outside Time’. I guess your parents didn’t kick your sick ass enough as a kid. Yeah, be that as it may, there are tons of porn sites dedicated to looking at creepy old folks lounging on gurneys and under oxygen tents, so it sure isn’t just your messed up ass after all. Well, there’s a name for bat-shit crazy bastards like you, and it’s chronopheliac, or, similarly, gerotophiliac. Your kids must be so proud.
Hungry? Maybe you’ve completely gorged yourself on chicken nuggets and yogurt and your tummy hurts. Uh oh… VOLCANO! So as you shout at your shoes in a technicolor rainbow into the porcelain throne, you get really, really turned on. Good Lord, you need to see someone about that. Hey look! It’s that scene from Monty Python where Mr. Creosote causes the entire restaurant to puke cuz he’s such a nasty slob! Oh, and you’ve got yourself a boner. I think I have to leave now, cuz you’re obviously attracted to vomit. You have emetophilia and you really need a doctor. And a bucket.
You’ve been commissioned to travel deep into the Amazon Rain Forest to collect certain plant species for a new drug that might just cure permanent stupidity when all of a sudden you’re being bombarded from all sides by insects of every shape, size, color, and leg-count! Any sane human being would run away screaming like a little girl… unless that girl is you, in which case you hang around getting all aroused and woozy. Woman, you are some kind of nutty. So you like being covered in creepy crawlies and squirmy beasties with as many legs as nature can legally allow and it makes your panties all moist. Good for you, you formicophiliac. Here’s a bus ticket, you’re not riding in my car.
Your sexual appetite has ebbed from normalcy and flowed directly into insanity. But that’s okay, right? I mean even doctors say this kind of exploration is nothing to be ashamed of. Especially if your doctor’s name is Frankenstein, Jekyll, or Satan. But I digress… since you’ve taken it upon yourself to start rubbing up against complete strangers in crowded spaces and sidling up to people who otherwise wouldn’t specifically allow it. Oh, and frequently you use your crotch region to do so. I don’t normally invite those with frotteurism to my house for get-togethers, sorry. Freak.
Remember how your white trash parents used to drag you to those damn NASCAR events every weekend and sit extra close to one another with a number 3 blanket draped over their naughty parts as they giggled and profusely sweated? Yeah? And you watched the race, occasionally stealing a glance at your mum and pop while they played the hand dance under that blanket? Yeah? Your parents were a special kind of fucked up and were consequently turned on by witnessing huge accidents like race car wrecks. Dude, they were diddling each other and you had no idea. I sure hope you buried those symphorophiliacs in a shallow grave by the side of the road just after they reached sexual nirvana in that auto accident you nonchalantly staged. You win.
Um… I guess it’s time for a confession. I can honestly attest to be a breast man. I know dudes who are ass men, leg men, even those diggin’ on chick’s eyes… but I dig me some cans, brother; I am a full-blown mammaphiliac. Now I wouldn’t really say every time I see a set of hooters heading my way at like, the mall or something, I feel the desire to run to the bathroom and fap out a touch. Conversely, If I’m hanging out with the wife and, well, she’s sporting a specific top… I gotta go, uh, to the can. Carry on…
I tend to believe this little number has its roots in Oedipal-type situations where you just love your mommy way too much. You see, paraphilic infantilism is the wanton desire to be dressed like a baby and subsequently put into ‘baby’ situations. You’ve got the giant bottles, the big pacifier, the bib, diapers… the whole enchilada. And, as you’d suspect, there’re a whole shit load of web sites geared directly toward this type of wacky-ass behavior and no, I am certainly not providing you with any links, bucko. I have my morals. They’re around here somewhere.
Where did you go wrong in your life? What avenue did you traverse that might have been better left alone? How is it that the single most attractive female on this Earth to you is The Statue of Liberty? I mean you’ve got pictures, postcards, coins, center folds all hanging out in your room. Dude, really: WTF? I can understand the love of liberty and our country’s freedom, but man, filling a few tissues to The Lady of Ellis Island is just wrong! Not only that, every time we see a statue or a marble figure you start drooling and manhandling your balls… I can’t go anywhere with you cuz of your agalmatophilia! Don’t even get me started on the nudes…
Though this certainly isn’t the most outright fucked up of the bunch, it’s about as far as I’m willing to go on this list. If you want more disgusting actions and have the time to read up, that link up there will take you on a trip I’ll likely never go on again. Anyway, have you ever had to have, or, perhaps drunkenly participated in, an enema? Definitely not the most pleasant of acts around, that’s for sure. I’m not about to go into what it takes to get an enema, I think we all have a vague enough notion to piece it together. But there are those who feel it’s one of the best ways to cleanse the toxins from your body. And then there are those who just plain get horny because of it. Either one of those people need to be locked in a warehouse for ever. With a lifetime supply of enema kits. Bleargh…