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Editorial See other Editorial Articles Title: Twist in my sobriety Twist in my sobriety > print version Deidre Dare Speaking of masturbation, I've noticed that more and more expats (including myself) here are starting to prefer it over the more social way of getting one's rocks off. There appears to be a sudden epidemic of weariness with casual sex in Moscow. I called my sexy Aussie mate "Steve" the other day to discuss how I could obtain Latvian citizenship (yes, Latvian) and, even though it was 2 pm, woke him up. Capture the Season's Best Memories G "Why are you still in bed?" I asked him. "I was up all night screwing some beautiful Russian model," he admitted, yawning. "How nice for you," I remarked. Steve let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know... Just once it would be nice to #### someone I care about, you know?" "Baby," I replied, "nothing makes me happier these days than waking up alone." "How often does that happen?" Steve asked. "Unfortunately, pretty rarely," I conceded. "Pretty rarely indeed! OK, now about this Latvian thing..." The problem, I later explained to him, is that we mostly spend all our time in Moscow in one of two states: either drunk or hung over. Drunk, most of us expats will fuck anything that moves. Hung over, we just want them out the door. The really annoying sexual partners are the ones who want to do it again in the morning, but at least you can cry, "Too hung over!" when that happens. If that's what you're going to do, give them three Nurofen Pluses and 500 roubles for a gypsy cab: I've discovered that this helps to ease the sting. Like almost all of us single expatriates in Moscow, I have been truly shocked on some mornings by what I've woken up next to. Very late last night I ran out for some booze and ran into a very pissed Canadian girlfriend of mine on the street. She was literally falling-down drunk and was with some Western guy I'd never seen before (and don't ever expect to see again). This friend of mine has a good way of describing our expat sexual life here. She calls it "turbo-shagging." I pulled her aside and asked, "Why are you running around town in the middle of the night with some fat dude?" "I'm drunk!" she answered. Which of course explained everything. I can only hope she didn't wake up this morning with the guy, but I think she may have (since she hasn't returned my text message yet). But, then again, as another mate in Moscow once famously told me: "It is better to wake up next to a random stranger than a pile of your own vomit." Another expat guy I know has a tendency to deal with the unfulfilling nature of "Moscow meaningless sex" by pretending to himself that the sex he's having is, in fact, meaningful. We all know a man or two like this in town. He's the guy who falls in love every week with some new chick named Anastasia or Elena. Then he calls you up on the telephone and wanks on about her for a while until you stop him with the question, "What happened to the one I met last week? I mean, Katya? Wasn't that her name?" After my conversation with Steve, I actually had the opportunity to have sex with someone I care very deeply about. The amazing thing about that kind of sex is that you can do it completely sober. More than that, you want to do it completely sober. That kind of sex is to turbo-shagging what real ice-cream is to fat-free frozen yogurt. Since that experience is still fresh in my mind, I'm pretty much relying on my vibrator, named "The Bullet," for a while. There are only two drawbacks to The Bullet. First, due to its shape, my bags always get searched at border crossings. And second, the batteries keep running out from overuse. Ã2; xxoo, DD Deidre Dare's novel "Expat" and video reports can be viewed online at: www.deidredare.com back to main page send by e-mail
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#1. To: tom007 (#0)
Do you ever wonder why the world has cratered so badly, Tom ?
Or the batteries being poor quality?
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