How goeth the celibacy? {crappy b.}

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Hiya to all the recovering fallen women in the ‘hood: how goeth the new celibacy? In case it goeth not, let us pause to examine an instructive tableau observed in our very city this very year: the first day of summer spent in Ciutadella. The sun is shining, the dogs are shagging, and Lassie is molesting Old Yeller. With so many woofs, so little time, Ciutadella seems a microcosm of Barcelona life. All of us horny dogs are salivating over shiny fur and big tails whilst desperately thrusting at each other’s bums. If you’re not getting any, well, you’re the sad little pug who watched longingly before being shooed away. Kids: don’t be Lassie! In order to keep our collective legs firmly together, let us all consider some crucial tips for staying celibate in La Boquería Infernal that is Barcelona loving.

• Firstly, a reiteration: as a straight woman embarking on celibacy, it’s best to avoid the entire male sex when under the influence. Intoxication can cause minor cases of Chakotay Syndrome1 to degenerate into street-can shouting circa 5 am about how you are actually in love with the Caganer (balefully yelling, “but he shits so beautifully behind the manger…”). Crucially, do not avoid men in general because you may lurch into Girl School Syndrome, the tendency to overestimate the brilliance of the opposite sex as a result of your total isolation from it.

• If the Body Hair Bear System (™) of contraception fails, improvise: imagine you’re permanently menstruating but go method and wear a sanitary towel every day along with oversized, stained period pants. Again, this might not help, depending if you give a shit, and it’s probably not what Stanislavski envisioned when he created that Daniel Day Lewis My Left Foot acting thing.

• Some more repetition for you, because you still haven’t bloody learnt (… stupid whores): remember that you are always only a friend away from being connected with everybody here. Maybe you need to experience another fun evening spent marooned at one end of a bar so as to avoid a former sex partner to then find him speaking to the one you slept with in January and they didn’t even know each other before. And it’s all a bit weird. You’re one fuck removed from everybody you know. Never forget that.

• Write a column for a Barcelona newspaper, using your real name, about your own and other people’s sex lives in a somewhat incestuous group of friends (all groups of friends in Barcelona are incestuous; have you already forgotten tip #3?). All personae dramatis must be as poorly disguised as if you had written about your torrid Justin Bieber affair and gave him the alias Jastin Beaver. Do not use forethought or any understanding of cause-and-effect, and, if possible, include an unnecessarily spiteful insult about someone’s personal appearance. The following month will be spent trying to hide copies of said newspaper. You will become a sexual leper after this, because everyone’s too scared that you’re going to comment on his or her own weirdly-shaped body part in a public forum. This is helping you help yourself. (As an aside, this kind of sexually-themed writing can simultaneously make you more attractive to the wrong kind of people, like ones who are unaware of irony and believe you to be some kind of stripper or sexual deviant. They will also be surprised to discover that ordinary, workaday women enjoy sex and don’t have to be tricked into partaking in it.)

• …which brings us nicely to one last tip. Read Neil Strauss’s The Game. For women it is almost as revolutionary as a first reading of The Communist Manifesto. You’ll become so paranoid about men past, present and future, that you won’t be able to speak to one without the overwhelming sense that he is Gaming you. The subsequent neuroses will drive you to the brink of insanity. You will probably have to move to some remote island in the hope that Neil Strauss has not yet penetrated it (pun, as always, intended).

1) Chakotay Syndrome is the biological imperative to find a sexual partner in any given situation, however obviously bleak, causing the female to eventually become attracted to the best male in a group – in evolutionary terms. The term was coined after discovering that watching four seasons of Star Trek Voyager back-to-back will cause any woman to find herself strangely attracted to Chakotay, because the other male characters are annoying and he’s got tattoos.

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