It seems like every month or so, some news outlet reports that "Sex Robots Will End Humanity" -- since people like fucking robots so much, they'll stop having real sex, and then babies won't be born, and then there'll be no more humans around to build sex robots in the first place, which means something like superintelligent raccoons will take over and that will be it for the human race.

One common facet of this is that it's talking about men...men are buying the sex dolls, men are getting "virtual girlfriends", men are going to stop conceiving babies. The ass-backwards thing here is that nobody's talking about women; there have been a few articles about sex dolls designed for women, but they don't frequently go into using it as a replacement for male companionship.

And companionship is always mentioned in the articles, but never really reflected on: the one in the first link basically says that Japan has seen an increase in sex doll purchases as reported loneliness is increasing.

And that's the key to things: men aren't choosing to fuck toys instead of women; they're fucking dolls because they don't have the opportunity to fuck a woman as often as they want. If they find a willing flesh-and-blood partner, they'll be glad to make babies. The guys that explicitly prefer dolls to women, who are most frequently paraded out by 'weird news' interviewers, let Darwin have them. But nobody's acknowledging that if a woman wants to get fucked by a guy they want to fuck, robots aren't preventing that from happening. At least not yet. Terminator-style robots may want to prevent humans from reproducing someday down the road, under orders from the superintelligent raccoons, but for now sexrobots are funtimes for lonely people, not causing a population crisis.

Why aren't couples having sex? According to this survey, most of the time it's because of financial stresses. A third of the time, however, it's the dog's fault. Mind you, this is a British survey, so you may need to factor in the stoic British passive aggressiveness.

"Yes, it's Fido's fault we haven't had sex in a while."

"Indubitably, darling, were it not for the dog's snoring, we would be banging right now."

"Yes, bad dog! Snoring...and leaving the toilet seat up, boy, I do hate that! Bad dog!"

"Well, in that case, don't forget how...Fido...forgets to balance the checkbook and we get an huge overdraught fee for going over only a few quid. Bad dog!"

Via.

A survey of people in Britain has proven that people who ride bike to work have better sex. Well, after a while I suppose. Once you get through the first couple months of biking, I'm sure the positive effects are seen, but those first two months, when you arrive home from work, dripping with sweat, wheezing, thighs twitching uncontrollably, and you go throw up in the bathroom before you take off your bike helmet, yeah, those days aren't going to be very good for sex. But, stay positive through all that, people: someday, you're fucking will improve. It really goes for any exercise: when you've got endorphins flowing, your body is a healthier shape, and you don't just sit around like a lump, it only makes sense that everything, including getting laid, will improve.

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The Huffington Post has come up with 15 ways to talk about sex. It claims to be nothing more than random thoughts jotted down, and it reads that way, but the third on the list -- the "economic" method of communicating sexual needs -- made at least twelve Objectivists come in their pants. "We can reduce sexuality down to mere free-market transactions of mutual benefit? I'm finally going to get laid!"

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The UK is suggesting something horrible: husbands will have to discuss porn-watching with their wives. Not sure exactly why that's brought up, other than to maybe scare men who are too embarassed to discuss porn with their spouses, but any which way it's another reason the UK's hope to porn-block everybody is going to be trouble. If the guy's already chatting with his spouse about his porn, awesome, there's really not much of a big deal there. If he's scared to discuss porn, well, then there's something that's a bigger problem than having to ask your internet company permission to access porn. Best leave it alone and let people manage their own home's porn access, lest the government have to deal with a bunch of new divorces over the porn conflicts they're going to cause. Oh, wait: they have to block porn because TERRORIST, so it's best not to talk about it at all or James Bond will show up at your door to drag your porn-loving ass to Guantanamo.

Well, here we are again: one month after the one day of the year your girl is guaranteed all the romancing she wants, the boy gets all the romancing he wants on Steak and a BJ Day. Because, I mean, guys, on Valentine's Day you had to suffer the indignation of eating at a nice restaurant with your lover, then went back and fucked in your bedroom -- don't you deserve more? Like Valentine's Day, Steak and a BJ Day is lusted over by the single members of your gender because the feel they deserve to be showered with the selfish parts of the holiday. Those in relationships who properly celebrate the day are doing so out of their own mutual enjoyment. So, single people: stop fetishising a single day of the year because you feel you deserve something people lavishly write about on the internet. Everyone in relationships: if you're longing for one day a year to experience romance and sex, you're fucking wrong. Steaks and blowjobs come to those who deserve them, not because Google Calendar dinged on your phone. Today's holiday, like Valentine's Day, is merely here to remind you what you should be doing the rest of the year to show your fondness for the opposite sex, not the other way around.

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This is bullshit, I tell you what. A new study says that men who do household chores and cook get laid less. Ladies, isn't this something you've been telling us will get us laid more? It has to be one big conspiracy - women convince us vacuuming will get us into their pussy, then don't put out. God dammit. Anyhow, men, that's no reason to stop helping with the chores: if you're going to be an asshole around the house, you might end up alone, doing all the housework and sex entirely by yourself.

There's an app for that, you know, and now there's apparently an app for finding porn. No, no, this isn't a new tiava or anything - this is a program that will scan the computer itself, so you can find his porn. Yes, guys, if your gal is that paranoid, she can, without a doubt, prove that you're looking at porn online. Other than the proof that you're a guy with an internet connection, which should be enough evidence of guilt in most countries. Guys, if you're dating somebody who's willing to PayPal $19.99 to see if there's porn on your computer, you might best just break up with them now.

But, wait, ladies: I'm not talking about cases of direct lying, such as having a clear and open conversation about how she feels about porn, lying about it, then looking at porn anyway. That's the asshole route, and you deserve her wrath when she finds your porn. I'm not willing to shell out twenty bucks to see how it works, but with everything on the 'cloud' today, I can't imagine it'll find much on most guys computers. If it checks cookies and network traffic to find connections to porn sites, well, I tip my hat to you, paranoid-program-maker, that's a step beyond what I'd have expected.

Sorry, Bostonians: if you're in the middle of a divorce, don't plan on fucking anybody at home. The new law prohibits two consenting people from having sex in the divorcee's home, under a "won't somebody think of the children!" motive. From what I understand, divorce turns people into assholes, so you can bet the only use for this law is for one side in the divorce to totally fuck up the other side's chances of having a reasonable and cooperative divorce. Seriously, if you could turn a cheating ex, even after you've broken up, in to the police for fucking somebody else, wouldn't you? Even better, the article cites that it is designed to "prevent domestic violence", because if you left your husband because he was a controlling, jealous abuser, he'd never call the cops to accuse you of fucking some other guy. Abusers totally become reasonable when you break up with them, right, ladies? It's sure a good thing our duly-elected politicians are working on the economy, isn't it.

As if it wasn't fucking obvious enough, DJ Mick wants y'all to date strippers. Whoever wrote this is kind of a dick, since they promote all the "Daddy Issues" and "Stripper = Crazy" bullshit, because the purpose of finding a girlfriend is to avoid all that. Crazy chicks with daddy issues do not inherently equal good sex and are found everywhere, so use your smarts when looking for a date. Find a stripper who's cool and then you get the best of both worlds. Then, her real boyfriend will probably kick your tit-obsessed ass to the curb, but, hey, at least you tried.

I haven't got a fucking thing to add to this list, because this is pretty much the basic how-to for good sex. Hit half of these every time you're getting laid, and disappointment will be far, far away. Most of the time. I love a good titfuck once in a while, so there's always candy letters to still stick in the frosting of the sex cake, or something like that, I don't know, I forgot what I was typing when I got to the titfuck part.

On Valentine's Day, women lamented having to fuck their men. Now, having to fuck somebody just because it's written on the calendar is fucking stupid, but if you're not having sex often enough that that 'special day' is the only time you're doing it - a birthday fuck is the least of your troubles. Seriously, nobody has ever cried because nobody fucked them on their birthday; they felt bad because they don't get to fuck any day, either. Last year, I was given a titfuck for my birthday; one of my favorite things, but I had hurt my back earlier that week, and we couldn't find the Astroglide, so it was not the most ideal experience. Next time, obligated sex will be negotiated first. If one person isn't feeling it, postponment is more than allowable. Don't get hung up on the calendar.

Holy fuck, just look at her. The Daily Mail asked men to give their wives makeovers, and show us how the men dressed their best gals. She's all dressed frumpy, and that bow thing in her hair, jesus christ! Is she wearing Star Wars boxers outside her pants? Hasn't her boyfriend ever seen a wom- oh, that's the "before" photo. She's dead sexy when her bf dressed her up. Note her response to her 'new look': "I want to cry. I look like one of those women who trawl nightclubs," which means her boyfriend either needs to head for the hills or start saving up for therapy. Weird body-image issues - and, get this, she's a fashion assistant. I've known fashion designers (those goth-geeks in college, remember?) and they all dressed crappy, too, but just wait until the models she works with hears what she thinks about how they dress.

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Here's the deal - you're better off getting drunk together than one drinking more than the other. Codependent drunks have better relationships -- yay! Oh, and getting wasted while your partner doesn't sucks. I get the impression this was written by those stereotypical scientists who lead sheltered lives and never dated a partier because it looked fun and learned a life lesson about it later. I like all the quantifying and measuring and stuff, but, geez, anyone who went to college has this figured out by now. Well, all except those wacky, wacky drunks - they're either the sober, annoyed one now or they're still pissing people off. Moderation is key, at least that's what Cuervo says at the end of their commercials.

Yeah, I'm still in the 'newly in love' phase and googly with romantic intentions, so when I read this recent Rabbit Blog, I had to stand up with Mlle Havrilesky and echo:

Listen up, you grain-fed honky dickweeds - not just you, WW, but every fucking honky out there needs to hear this. We're not alive for very long. Have you noticed this, dickcheeses? We do not have all the fucking time in the world to draw up cost-benefit analyses on potential long-term pairings. If you're not swept the fuck away by your lady, move the fuck on. If you're not gritting your teeth and biting the palm of your hand like goddamn Squiggy every time she walks by, get over it. If you're not having the best sex of your life - and this is when you do that, dummies, in your mid-fucking-thirties, this is your big fucking shot at great sex, or at least this is where it starts - if you're not blown away, freaking out, breaking out, thrilled, shivery, talking a lot, sending stupid fucking emails to each other, rolling around, sighing, bragging, buying dumb little gifts - then how do you think you'll feel in a few years when you're fucking old and creaky and you have three little doo-doo factories in residence? You fucking dumbass honky-ass losers.

I'm a little unsure how to react, tho: I've been on both sides of the fence. When you watch others being giggly and lovey and crap, you wince at the stupidity of it all. You've done that, you remember how it felt and looked, and how it was all for shit and for all your effort it didn't get you a damn thing. No matter what you did, you ended up hurt and lonely and empty with a bunch of crap that only reminds you of the person who doesn't want to be around you anymore. After the fifth or sixth time, you tell yourself -- that's gotta be the wrong way to do it. Everything else in life that's supposed to last forever requires research, planning, and convergence of the planets. Homebuying, carbuying, career planning, estate planning -- spouses last as long (or longer), so they must take as much cost/benefit analysis too.

The big thing that relationship needs, that Havrilesky points out, is passion. House, car, lifestyle - they cost more money when you yield to passion. The sportscar, the mediterranean villa, the bohemian artistry: they're not the most cost-effective investments.

A passionate relationship, however, only requires the investment of your own passion and the return of it from the other party. If the passion is misspent on the wrong investment? So what...there's no shortage of giggly, happy, loving emotion, so there's no reason to hoard it like it's evaporating away.