Greetings Mouthketeers:

There was a great article in Sunday’s New York Times yesterday, called “When the Cellphone Teaches Sex Education,” where Health officials use teenagers’ favorite technologies (cellphones, text messaging, and in-your-face websites), as a way to fight disease and unwanted pregnancies.

After reading the story I thought it was a sad day we’re teaching our kids about pinga and puss via electronics, but then after some thought, I think it’s awesome.  With AIDS and all those other sexually transmitted diseases permeating the planet, it’s not about where you learn prevention; it’s that you’ve simply learned it. 

In my coming of age days, the most dangerous disease we all thought you could catch was Gonorrhea and Urethritis.  Then all of a sudden you heard about Syphilis, Hepatitis and the dreaded AIDS virus.  I remember coming home from my two-year stint in England (as the pop star, which I wrote about last week), and as soon as the plane landed at JFK, learned a few of my friends were dying of AIDS.  That plague didn’t seem to hit Europe while I was hanging out there, so imagine how weird it was to come home to hear your posse was disintegrating. 

My parents did a less than average job teaching me about sex, (they figured I just knew about it, which I did), and during my coming of age days, I probably had every little pain in the ass sexually transmitted disease (except, AIDS, thank God.)  Speaking of “ass,” I even developed Strep Butt once.  Wha?  You got that right.  Strep Ass.  If I remember correctly, it’s a cross between a rash and Strep Throat, but it spreads between your butt cheeks.  My hole was on fiyah.  It is probably the most painful thing on the planet—the kind of illness which forces you to ask if there really is a God, and if so, why did he/she invent it—and it looks as if your backside is a strawberry patch and feels as if you have two pieces of sandpaper rubbing against your crack.  I could’ve sworn when the doctor spread my backside apart to make his diagnosis, my butt coughed right back at him.  Let’s not go into the “how” I got this thing, but I got it, and honestly, it would have been a helluva lot less awkward for me to text some hotline about my symptoms than go on a mission to put my derriere on high alert to every doctor in NYC. 

We’re the only species on the planet that has to learn about the birds and the bees.  And if we have to be taught, when are we all going to learn that knowledge is power—no matter how we gain the info—and that it’s much healthier to talk about how you catch the clap, than trying to figure out—all alone—how to wait for the applause to die out.

How did you learn about the birds & the bees?

Peace.

The Mouthinator.

The Mouthinator Sex

Greetings Mouthketeers:

Happy belated Easter.  I went to a wonderful holiday dinner at Mark and Roman’s house, and I must say, the food was tasty but the conversation was tasteless. 

Before dessert was served, one of the guests at the event (let’s call him Harry), wanted to show us some digital photos of his trip to Italy.  The first few shots were of Harry in Sicily then in Venice and finally, on top of Mount Vesuvius.  All of a sudden, the next picture was a shocker, and it had nothing to do with an Italian vacation.  There was Harry—totally naked—with his butt in the air and in a position as if he was waiting for a proctology exam.  Yes, you read it right.  Harry looked as if he was going to get a finger wave in this photo.  Without a pause in the presentation, Harry asked us which shot he should post on the Internet—on a dating website—because he wanted to find a new relationship and he needed some new pictures.  Excuse me, Harry? 

Mouthketeers, let me make one thing perfectly clear:  Do not post nude pictures of yourself on the Internet, and do not show your stanky photos to your friends at a religious function.  Friends, I am no prude, but you are fooling yourself if you think chatting about your backside is good dinner conversation.  People don’t think the photograph of your Sway Back posture is cute.  And yes, we know you’re flexible, but save the back flip pic for your gymnastics instructor. 

On a business note, if you think the photos on the net can’t haunt you in the future, think again.  Nowadays, before companies hire you, they are not only doing a credit check on you but searching for your web presence, making sure you’re not a member of a cult or in a compromising position on a social network, and the list goes on. 

So, zip it up, shut it down, and take a cold shower before considering a) posting your private parts on a website because Big Brother is definitely watching and b) talking about posting your dirty pix on a website before the host of the dinner party is about to serve a hot fruit compote.   

What do you think?   Get back to me, will ya?

Peace.

The Mouthinator.   

The Mouthinator Sex