You don't even want to know how long it's been since I've gotten any. Every time I go to the bathroom I have to shift the cobwebs to one side so I have an adequate urination lane.
It's not that I can't get any, it's that I don't want any, and for most of my adulthood my sexual inactivity has been a voluntary choice.
I've adopted celibacy based on a thorough cost-benefit analysis of my life when in and when not in a relationship. I've come to realize that my compass needle has been trying to point me in the wrong direction for the past 22 years.
When I look back and measure my state of happiness between being single and taken, the results are too compelling to ignore - if I didn't need this thing to properly expel waste, I'd consider lopping it off with a pair of shears.
John Wayne Bobbitt didn't know how lucky he was.
I haven't foregone sexual relations for any religious or spiritual reason; I do it because Ken Jr. has gotten me into more trouble than any other part of my body.
Jealousy, frustration, anger: these are the elements that make up a relationship and are the inevitable result of sexual activity. Temptation drives us to be with the other sex, and it is a weakness that will perpetually cause guilt, regret, and sometimes even the clap.
We view sex as an object to possess; it's not some beautiful act of mankind with birds chirping in the background and Cupid slinging heart-shaped arrows at your thrusting buttocks. It's hot, it's sweaty, and it's dirty.
Those two-and-a-half minutes of loving could end up causing a lifetime of pain. Sex breeds attachment, and attachment can only lead to marriage or a tumultuous breakup: both disastrous conclusions in my mind.
My "dry season," however, has produced a fruitful renaissance of peace and tranquility, allowing me to focus my energies on more constructive ambitions.
Sure, it's embarrassing when it's my turn to swap man-stories in the locker room, especially when my idea of a romantic rendezvous these days is a night with a free preview weekend of Cinemax. And sure, it's discouraging to hear my unused manhood creak upward like an old man's knee joints when aroused; but the benefits of celibacy far outweigh the negatives.
My emotions are controlled, my mind is at peace, and my member, though neglected, is like an obedient dog, at the mercy of his master's command.
Because I've been able to harness my sexual desires, I have been able to reach a greater and more enriching height of existence. I owe my peace of mind and fresh outlook on life to the extraction of sex and women and all the ills and afflictions they dragoon upon man.
Imagine a life without stress, game playing, bitching, moaning, or those explosive sexual desires.
My dust-ridden family jewels hang as evidence of a new and better way of life. We think that we need the comforts of the opposite sex and that it's part of our nature to nail everything we see. For males, how many girls we sleep with oftentimes marks the degree of one's manliness.
A lot of people have sex to make themselves feel better, giving themselves a brief shot of worth. However, the buzz quickly fades, leaving a hangover of self-depreciation until they swap bodily fluids with the next-closest degenerate so that the ruinous cycle may spin again.
Sometimes we have sex to get over someone, to make someone jealous, or to give us a false sense of power. Such behavior is the epitome of human weakness and is a despicable trait of our generation.
There's an alternative to this and it's not just me that has adopted this lifestyle. So have brilliant people such as Ovid, Nietzsche, Gandhi, Tolstoy and even Dr. Harvey Kellogg (the cereal guy).
The Buddhists say that desire leads to possession and possession leads to bondage, where one is dependent on someone else for satisfaction.
To be fully happy is to be fully free. To achieve this, we must give up the temporary pleasures that bind us to someone else so that we may find our own true happiness.
Photo: Courtesy of Matthew Messina, from the RMBERS' Instagram page
