Social Media Spices Up Sexual Situations

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Intimacy is dead. Or at least it must be on life support. In this media-crazed age where certifiably sane individuals would rather contract leprosy than face a wifi-less existence, sexuality has bought itself a jetpack and has burst from the cotton confines of our panties into boundless cyberspace. Gone are the days of hand written letters, soulful serenades 'neath peach-blossomed canopies and (insert clichéd fantasy here), replaced instead by online profiles and text messages that SHOUT AT YOU FROM YOUR SCREEN: "OMG. We just got our seats. His teeth are soooooo WHITE!"

What's changed? Certainly not our desire to fuck each other. No, the biggest breakthrough in courtship methodology has been the introduction of the self-made image. Instead of judging a potential mate's worthiness based on the decibel of his roar, we have evolved to evaluate attractiveness from the artistic merit of his or her amateur modeling Facebook profile pictures, no doubt taken by an art-school friend with a lomography kit. Yet the newfound ability to present ourselves in a way that reflects how we would like to appear as opposed to how we actually are is a nifty tool for getting laid.

Be honest. Countless Sunday mornings have consisted of a cigarette and lemonade ­- or your hangover cure of choice - while hastily untagging photos from the previous night's escapades in which the florescent lighting made your freckles look like volcanic zits. Any remaining time could be put towards contemplation of a witty tweet that contains a delicate degree of suggestion that your night was epic but classy, in case any potential suitor's eyes are prying. I mean, who isn't trying to look cute-yet-goofy-like-I-don't-really-care-about-looking-stupid-while-still-looking-nonchalantly-cool-in-my-oatmeal-sweater? We perceive others through their own constructed, finely polished personas, which can easily lead to disappointment and disillusionment.

Despite this widespread migration towards impersonalization, sex is caught at an ambivalent intersection. Through specified chatrooms or Yahoo! Answers for the bashful, concerns such as "improve cunnilingus technique" or "weird scrotum rash" can be resolved shamelessly and anonymously. But is this anonymity liberating or restricting?

Hiding behind an IP address does not facilitate genuine relationships. I've certainly stalked boyfriends in the past ­- graduated in '07, likes Neil Young, ex-girlfriend was a stripper. Long hours culminated in the meager reality that we knew a lot about each other, but we hardly knew each other at all.

Yet we all still itch for the delicious, twisted pleasure of accessing privileged avenues of that special someone's life. Till we realize that the intimacy we experienced is vaporous and superficial, as that information was never privileged or private, but broadcast.

However, the internet can play fairy godmother sometimes. A friend of mine landed himself a six month sex-spree with forty-eight year old soon-to-be-expat sugar-daddy retiree. Under what other plausible circumstance could he have walked up and said, "Hey, my name is..."?

The prevalence of social media today provides ample opportunity to try our luck with a larger slice of the demographic pie. Yet the private chambers of pillow talk are chronicled, photographed, scrutinized and exposed for public access. Technology may increase your chance of gettin' some, but be careful who you're bedding - they may not be as limber as their pictures suggest.


Ask Belinda about her oatmeal sweater at [email protected]



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