What I Learned from Not Masturbating for 13 Days in the Middle East

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After a harrowing and life-changing visit to Iran just one week ago, one female comedy writer (yeah it’s weird that Golden Words hires more than just men, engineers, and Jews, right?) has returned to Canada to recant what she took away from a fortnight of finger fucking abstinence…

I LEARNED GODDAMN NOTHING!!! HAHAHAHA Take that for journalistic title baiting! Fuck you BuzzFeed! Fuck you Vice! You can stop reading right now because I’m still a pervert and this article is about to get super anecdotal, which as we all know translates real well into a system that uses pseudonyms to distance the writers of said articles from the smut garbage that would likely render them unemployable!

Now let’s set up some barely coherent context for this trip. I went to Iran during Week 2 and 3 for my cousin’s wedding (I forgot to solve the nuclear crisis, but I swear it’s on my to-do list) and in that short time span I spent 37 hours travelling, 15 hours on a layover, and approximately 140 hours with my extended family! How did I then find time to torture myself with the fact that I was in fact not having a ménage à moi at any waking moment? Simply with moral depravity and the inability to live in the moment of course!

Everything in this country got me so hornt you guys. Boys with impeccable hairlines and faded beards replacing the typical Slavic fare found at Queen’s. Think of it as a bunch of Zayn Maliks running around (Ed’s Note: Zayn Malik, former linebacker of One Direction, is actually Pakistani and Irish. But hey when you’re barely represented in the media, you really gotta jump on any non-terrorist public figure and hold tight until you asphyxiate autoerotically). Girls with artfully drawn eyebrows and perfect nose-jobs because they are ashamed of their non-white features. It was mostly their body shame that got me hydroplaning on my own lubrication. Ugh I love the insecurities imposed on the female body! Try to work out the paradox of being a “slim thicc” while I spin a quick downstair DJ set. My MC name you ask? DJ Diva Cup obviously.

Usually when I fall asleep I slip into complete and utter darkness, a blackout that fast-forwards to the AM. Kinda like a preview of death’s cold and unforgiving void 😛 (Sick theism burn dude!) But during this trip, I had sex dream after sex dream after sex dream. You would think it would make it hard to look people I envisioned cum punching in the eye once I was back in Kingston, but honestly I felt like it’s made me more unbearably dominant. I was in a dreamy bukkake paradise where not only I was the unfortunate secretary, but all 17 businessmen!

Whenever I visit my family abroad I slip into a state of childlike regression. Like when I was little and would sit on my hand when I watched Tim Curry as Long John Silver in Muppet Treasure Island. Or like now, when I sit on my hand when I watch Steve Buscemi in Boardwalk Empire. Uh yeah, I have a thing for BAD BOIZ. All the Islamic guilt and repression was just fuel to my loins’ fire. How many people do you think pork (halal? more like ha-LOL) in a mosque before morning prayers? I bet Big Prophet M would’ve gone to Western for all the mustangs (all you day one Quran scholars know what I mean).

The plane rides were probably the worst part. Not only for their laughable no name tomato juice (airplane food amirite fellas?) but for the fact that you’re seated in a vibrating chair for 11 hours. I tried distracting myself by watching Batman v. Superman because I heard it had coma-inducing properties, but that didn’t help because I just got really into Henry Cavill’s beautiful boring body. So I switched over to The Meddler. However seeing Susan Sarandon and Rose Bryne work through their mother-daughter relationship also got me hot for unexplored reasons. I almost worked myself up to join the Mile High Club™ but at this point I was only 3 hours into my trip and decided I could just chew ice, cross my legs tightly, and think of Michael Moore’s body and body of work to simmer down.

So all in all, I learned nothing I didn’t already know about how debaucherous my mind is when I’m not actively filtering my thoughts. Though I am grateful to be a couple hundred kilometers away from my family with access to unrestricted access to the Internet. No VPN needed to get that sweet pixelated free porn that has helped me compartmentalize my sexuality so the action of coming is tied to boredom more so than it is real world interaction… But that is an insufferable think-piece for another day.

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