I Want to Set You Up with One of My Friends

Hey! You’re single, right? Great! Because I want to set you up with one of my friends.

Oh! You know who would be perfect? Sara! Sara is great, ‘cause she’s, like, an adult, you know? Like, a real adult. She’s got a good job and her own place. And Sara’s got debt! Like, sooo much debt. She’s got credit card debt and a mortgage and student loans from her Master’s program. She isn’t going out and getting drunk every night like all these twenty-somethings that refuse to grow up. She’s got responsibilities. The kind of responsibilities that constantly cloud her mind with the distinct feeling that she is very slowly drowning.

You want someone a little friskier? OK, well this guy is a little young. Well, they’re a little young. “He” is actually a nine-year-old boy standing on his eleven-year-old brother’s shoulders under a big ol’ trench coat. But combined, they make up an 8’ 10” tall, twenty-year-old, four-handed, two-dicked, horny-as-hell pervert named “Dan.” Yummy, right?

If you want someone with a little more sophistication, there’s Zoe! Zoe’s family comes from money. For real, she’s rich. Like so rich, the money has to have come from a bad place. No one has an elevator in their garage because they founded “Tom’s Shoes.” Best case scenario, they're in the fracking business or pulled some Wall Street scam, but I honestly think it’s probably even worse than that because one time when I was sleeping over at her house I saw her dad light a cigar with a copy of “The 9/11 Commission Report.”

Someone a little less stuffy? Rob is so fun! He’s crazy. No, like actually crazy. He was pronounced legally insane by a court of law. I’m sorry. Temporarily legally insane. But I wouldn’t be so sure it was just a passing phase, if I were you. I mean, any guy that’s gonna hop the fence and make it that far into the White House before being taken down has gotta be a little crazy all the time, right? Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to find out… Rawrrrr!

Oh! Lisa! Lisa is funny! She’s so funny all the time! Everything is a joke to her, you know? Like, at her Mom’s wake, she did this thing where when she went up to the casket and put her hand on her mom’s hand like she was saying goodbye, but then she pretended like her mom wouldn’t let go and that got a real good laugh because it kind of broke the tension. Then she acted like her mom was pulling her into the casket and that got another big laugh! Then she got in the casket and closed the lid and did an impression of her mom screaming “Bury us! Bury us! Bury us!” It was funny! Most of it was so, so funny.

Taylor. is. HOT. Like, beautiful hot. Beautiful, angel face. Sculpted, angel body. Taylor is so hot that it will turn your life to Hell. Because wherever you go together, Taylor turns every head in the room. It’s a little thrill at first, but after a while you can’t shake the fact that they all want him and that they would do anything to be with him. Taylor could easily have his pick of the litter, but he says he only wants you. Why? Why would a man like that ever love a piece of shit like you? Maybe he could... if it were just the two of you. Maybe he could learn to love you if everyone wasn’t constantly trying to drive a wedge between you. You’re no fool. You know that they make fun of you to him behind your back at parties. While you’re off using the powder room, they make little jokes about how you’re ugly and slow. They laugh and take big sips of wine and try to act drunk so that they have an excuse to get close to him. But you and the Beretta in clutch are going to get the last laugh. After tonight, it’s gonna be just be you and Taylor. Just the two of you...

Maybe someone a little more low-key? Mark is chill. Like, so chill it’s sometimes hard to tell if he’s even awake. Like, this one weekend he came skiing with us and he didn’t even hit the slopes once. He was totally happy just hanging out at the cabin, lying draped over the kitchen counter with his head in the sink all week. It didn’t seem weird to us. We thought it was just “Chill Mark” being “Chill Mark,” but later the doctors told us that he had been in a coma the entire time. Good thing Jen didn’t make a move on him in the hot tub like I had been telling her to because that would have been a little ethically dicey.

I almost forgot Sam! What about Sam? Sam is a nice girl, you know? Like a girl next door. Like a nice, simple country girl. A nice, quiet girl who wears plain smocks and her hair in braids. A girl without too many desires in her heart or thoughts in her head. A girl who only needs a little fresh air, some room to run, good oats, clean water, and an apple now and then as a little treat. Sam is a girl like a horse. But Sam is not a horse. Sam is a girl. A nice girl.

THINKPIECE: Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt Has A Bat Problem

Yes, we love that it's funny. Yes, we love that's it co-created by a woman and has a strong female protagonist. Yes we love that it stars a gay black man and celebrates his race and sexuality. Of course we're proud that the love interest is Asian – we're huge fans of Asians in theory. But of all the things Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt gets right, it gets one big thing very, very wrong – it does not feature a single bat.

I have seen each episode multiple times because I love it so much, and in not one of my many, laughter-inducing viewings did I happen upon an Egyptian Fruit, Vampire, or Giant Golden-Crowned Flying-Fox bat. It is literally insane that a show claiming to be as diverse and progressive as I ascribe it to be in my own mind would not prominently feature a bat. When I imagined a show that was all things to all people all the time, I imagined a half-hour situation comedy with several bats in it. When I'm not laughing so hard that I find it difficult to breathe, it's obvious that Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt objectively fails to meet my impossible standards.

Of course, you know if this deeply funny show, which is pretty progressive and subversive in its own right, did have a bat in it, it would get it all wrong. The writers would be content to hire a bat and have a bat fly around. The bat wouldn't do the things, I, a bat ally, want bats to do. It's a lose-lose situation where nothing the pieces of media that I thoroughly enjoy can do anything to please me.

And it's not just the lack of bats I have a problem with. Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt dropped the ball by including so many jokes. Why couldn't this have been the show where a gay black man monologues on what it means to be gay and black in America? Instead, they wasted all that potential on being funny, often uproariously so. Now if I want to know the gay and black experience, where will I turn? To the sea of overwrought essays on the Internet? To an actual gay black man? I wanted Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt to be the half-hour situation comedy that bucked the trend of setting up and then resolving a comedic situation in twenty two minutes. As it is, it's just another hilarious TV show that helps normalize non-white, non-male, non-heterosexual characters. And it could have been so much more.

A Piece of Intentionally Vague Erotic Literature

Author’s Note: When it comes to the various forms of erotica, literature reigns supreme because of its ability to truly engage the sexual imagination. While photographic or cinematic pornography demand that viewers align their sexual preferences and taste to that of the creator if they hope to achieve arousal, readers of erotic literature can use the author’s words to create their own perfect fantasy in their mind.

In an attempt to present the art form in its purest form, I have written a short piece of fiction that is nothing more than an erotic template into which one can insert one’s own kinks and desires. Consider it a series of prompts with which to guide your own sexual experience; a masturbatory mad-libs, if you will.

And please, enjoy.

...

Wayne sat on the foot of his bed and watched in awe as Olivia began undressing in front of him. It had been a wild night, but Wayne never thought it would have ended with him taking home the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. She was an absolute knock out, like Megan Fox crossed with Beyonce crossed with Taylor Swift crossed with Kate Upton crossed with Mila Kunis crossed with Niki Minaj crossed with Diane Lane.

Olivia swayed from side to side, moving her sexy body to the sexy music only she could hear, and slipped out of her clothes. Soon, she stood in front of Wayne in nothing but her underwear.

“Lucky dog,” Wanye thought to himself. It turned out that Olivia was wearing the kind of underwear that turned Wayne on the most. Wayne could never say why, but he always loved to see a woman in the kind of underwear Olivia was wearing. He was just a that-kind-of-underwear kinda guy.

Olivia reached behind her and undid the clasp on her bra. Slowly, she let it drop from her chest, revealing her bare breasts to Wayne.

“Perfect,” Wayne murmured, referring to the size and shape of Olivia’s breasts. “Just the way I like ‘em.”

“How about a little foreplay?” Olivia asked with a cocky smirk. She strutted over to Wayne, quickly undid his pants, and fished out his erect penis. Olivia began touching Wayne’s erect penis with different parts of her body and face in a various number of ways. Some of the ways Wayne had had done to him before and he liked very much. Some of the ways Wayne had only fantasized about having happen to him. And some things Wanye could not have possibly thought of in his wildest dreams. None of the ways were actual vaginal intercourse, but they still made Wayne’s erect penis feel very, very good.

“Enough of all this foreplay,” Wayne grunted. “Let’s get down to the real deal. I want to be inside of you in some fashion.”

Olivia put her mouth to Wayne’s ear. “Should we get a condom, baby?” she whispered. “Part of me wants to be safe, but another part of me wants to feel you, all of you, so, so bad.”

“I know,” Wayne sighed. “I’m right there with you, baby. It’s such a hard decision.”

At that moment, Wayne and Olivia locked eyes. They stared deeply at each other, as if they could see straight through to each other’s souls. In that look they both knew immediately whether or not they wanted to use a condom. They nodded in silent agreement, then kissed each other deeply, a sexy handshake on their plan of whether or not to use a condom for when they engaged in sexual intercourse for the rest of the evening.

Olivia was first to break the kiss. “Well, how do you want to do me?” she gasped.

“This way,” responded Wayne, arranging their arms, legs, and bodies in a configuration he imagined that he and Olivia would both desire.

“Oh yes. That definitely works for me,” Olivia squealed. “And you know you can put it anywhere you want,” Olivia told him. “My mouth. My vagina. My anus. My breasts. I’ll stimulate your erect penis any which way.”

A broad grin across his face, Wayne nestled his erect penis into one of the many places Olivia had previously mentioned and began to thrust.

“Ooh, yes, baby!” Olivia screamed. “Yes! Fuck me shorgf-er.” 

“Huh?” said Wayne.

“Fuck me shorgf-er. Please, baby. Please fuck me shorgf-er. Fuck me nice and shorgf.”

“What was that, baby?” Wayne asked as he continued to thrust his erect penis. “I couldn’t quite make out what you said.”

“Oh. Sorry, baby,” Olivia panted. “I was trying to tell you the speed at which I want to be fucked. Here, let me just show you.” Olivia raised her hands up and began to clap out a rhythm. Wayne quickly matched the tempo of Olivia’s claps with his hips.

“Is that how you like it, baby? Is that the speed you at which like to be fucked?” Wayne asked.

“Yes. The way you are fucking me now. That's what feels best. That’s how I like to be fucked. Keep fucking me like how you are fucking me now,” Olivia moaned back.

Wayne could feel that he was close to orgasm. “I'm going to come.” he announced to Olivia.

“Ooh. Come here for me, baby,” Olivia said, pointing to a very desirable part of her body into or on to which to ejaculate. Wayne abided and ejaculated into or on to where Olivia had previously indicated. “Mmm. I love it when you come where you just came,” Olivia moaned.

“Me as well,” rasped an exhausted and depleted Wayne. “Me as well.”

...

THINKPIECE: Are We Doing Enough To Alienate Women In Comedy?

Yes, we're all complicit in the patriarchy. And that's a great start. But we need to start actively discouraging women from participating in making other people laugh. 

How To Be An Ally:

• If there must be a part for a women in your video, give it to someone beautiful you want to fuck.
• Look at all the times you wrote about sex in your script. Does it have to be consensual? Often times, the answer is no.
• Remember that half the Earth's population is women, so half of the acts in your comedy show should be sex offenders, perverts, assholes, and general creeps. And that's at a bare minimum. Try booking an entire show filled with awful, awful dudes.
• Control-F and search for all the female names in your sketch. Replace them with “Bitch,” “Whore,” “Slut,” or any of the countless slurs our society employs to reduce women to nothing more than a vagina.  
• Empower other like-minded sexists. Women will be working with other women to produce comedy, so work with other men to shut women out of the industry. Drown out their voices so yours can be heard. 
• Support male-driven comedy. Purchase “This Is The End” on Blu-Ray and Digital Video Disc. See 90% of movies in theaters. Watch 90% of television. Go to 90% of all stand-up, sketch, and improv shows. If men don't support each other, who will? Other than everyone on the planet?