THE TV CALLED ME A SEX ADDICT
And You Can't Fuckin' Argue with TV

So, the other day my Old Lady says to me, "Do you think you're a sex addict?"

"Um..," I said after a long pause, "I dunno. I'd never thought about it before."

And the crazy part of that story is that it's TRUE! It might seem like I was just evading the question, because Hell yes, of COURSE, I'm a fucking sex addict, what could possibly be more self-evident than that shit? But, strangely enough, I really hadn't ever considered whether or not I was addicted to sex until the very moment when she asked me if I thought I was. And, y'know what? Maybe she's right. Maybe I am addicted to sex.

You guys know me pretty good by now, and you pretty much know that my art, and therefor my mind is completely and constantly cluttered with rampant, recurring themes and images of an explicit sexual nature, invading my every thought, motivating my every movement on this earthly plane, and driving my very will to live. Whaddaya think? Is obsession the same thing as addiction?

That's one for the psychologists, my friends, so let's examine my childhood with some role-playing in order to find answers.

ME (from the couch) - "Well, doctor, the thing of it is, that I've been this way ever since't I was about 1 years old.'

FREUD - "Mm-hm."

ME - “Some of my earliest memories are of drawing pictures, watching Bozo the Clown on TV, eating Fruit Loops, and having a hard-on. Usually not all at the same time, of course, and certainly, please, God no, do NOT for one second think that I had a hard-on BECAUSE I was watching Bozo!”

FREUD - "Mm-hm."

ME - "Bozo was on in the afternoon, after all, and it wasn't until late at night, when his lovable antics had long faded from my wee memories, that the hard-on fairy would come visit me in my bedroom, and, um... well, I do have a thing for red-heads..."

FREUD - "You're a total sicko, so I wouldn't rule anything out." (snorts some cocaine and fellates a cigar)

Once, a close friend of mine told me that she'd never fucked anyone who wanted to fuck as much as I want to fuck -- "seven and half minutes later, boom, you're ready to go again." I confided in her at the time that I could totally have sex every day, three times a day.

I DON’T, but I totally COULD.

I have sex with a living partner as often as I can, which, according to my own theoretical ratio-analysis of my personal psycho-sexual needs and desires, is not nearly often enough, so I also abuse myself on average up to 2 to 4 times a day. I've said it many times, but it always bares repeating: Thank you Jesus for pornography.

Because I can sustain myself on a seemingly endless cornucopia of free internet porn, as well as my insanely fertile imagination, I guess that technically I'm more of an orgasm addict (Yay! Buzzcocks!) than strictly a sex addict, but when I am having a lot of actual man-on-woman type sex, I do tend to jerk off a little bit less, so I think that if auto-eroticism is like crack to me, then the real deal is like fat rails of pure coke.

I'd prefer the lines, Baby, but I can fuckin' score that rock anytime, no problem, so I'm fuckin' hittin' that shit, like, woooo!

Or, maybe jerking off is like methadone, and sex is like smack?

I dunno, but by the way, I don't smoke any crack or do any coke, or heroine or any shit like that, I'm just using those things as metaphors. But, pass that joint, asshole. I ain't no fuckin' square!

Anyhoo, a few days later, I'm watching some piece of shit episode of Law and Order Special Victims Unit on cable TV -- only because I enjoy the gratuitously twisted sexual nature of the crimes -- when lo-and-be-fuckin'-hold, the theme of the show is sex addicts! And one of the definitions that gets hammered home throughout the hour-long crap-drama is that sex addicts, "would have it every day three times a day if they could."

Hey! Just like me! Golly gee whiz, I'm not alone after all!

Only, some of the other defining traits of the sex addict, as depicted by the writers of SVU, were: desperate loneliness, dirty secrets, scummy personalities, lying, cheating, stealing, doing hard drugs, being "dead inside," and of course, murdering people.

All of the other characters on the show were thoroughly disgusted by the sex addicts, who were portrayed more or less like a coven of craven vampires, humping strangers in their darkened sex club liars, spreading disease, and cringing from the daylight when the hero cops kicked in the doors to stab out their blackened hearts with pointed one-liners.

Yowzah! I've seen more sympathetic portrayals of wife-beating drunken cop killers on that show!

Well, needless to say, I was a little depressed after watching that shit.

Is that the path I'm headed down? Soliciting strangers on the internet? Trolling bars for any piece of ass at 4am? Hooking it up day & night anywhere & everywhere? Totally pissing off Ice-T & Richard Belzer and fucking forever until I kill or be killed?!?

Well, I've already done most of that shit anyways, so fuck it, I'm embracing this new label that the TV has licked and sticked to my sweatty brow. As in:

"My name is King V**V**da, and I'm a Sex Addict... so either fuck me, or fuck off."

Oh, but hey, don't tell my Old Lady I said that, because I know she also watches L&O SVU, and I'd hate for her to worry about me killing people and shit.

- King V