I've agonized for some time over this, but can't put it off any longer. I promised to reveal the new sexual technique and that's what I'm going to do, no matter what the consequences. I'm scared. Threats have been made, threats which I take seriously, but that's not going to stop me. Most of you have no idea of what's at stake here. And those that know, know only too well. But I've made my decision, so here goes.
We, and by "we" I mean myself and the women whose existence mysteriously ended following her mention of the technique in this forum -- we -- I use that collective term now because somehow it makes me feel more secure; it fills me with hope that others will come to my aid when I reveal this secret of the ages. Well, no matter what the reason, "we" it shall be...we (she and I) referred to the technique as "new" in our letters, but that is hardly the truth; it is new only to you. To me and several others it has been known for some time as jer-as-sanon.
Jer-as-sanon. Remember that name, for it is the name of the most powerful sexual technique known to man. And remember this: soon it will be yours to do with as you please.
Jer-as-sanon is not new; in fact it is quite ancient. Its origin, as they say, is lost in the mists of time. I can trace it back to the era of Cleopatra because it is through her that I came to know it. Jer-as-sanon was her legacy to me. Her blood flows in my veins, only a trickle to be sure, but blood nonetheless. And her secret envelops my soul.
She used the secret well, didn't she? I'm sure you've all heard her story; there's no use my defending her virtue. She used it well (as soon you may use it if you so desire). Whether you are male or female is irrelevant; jer-as-sanon works equally well on either sex. Be prepared. The results are profound. You will never know rejection once you've captured the secret of jer-as-sanon. Never again will you hear the word "no" unless you wish to. Word of your newfound prowess will pass over the world like a summer breeze, gentle but irresistible, and there will be knocks at your door, whispered invitations, and much much more. Very soon your life will change more than you can begin to imagine.
It's heady stuff -- pundits might call it the right stuff -- and for awhile it will seem as if you've been transported to some fabulous isle where dreams are real and nightmares don't exist. No more begging or lying or wishing -- just doing. Doing what you've always wanted to do with whoever you wish to do it.
But there is another side to jer-as-sanon (isn't there always?). I haven't mentioned the story of my ancestor's death, have I? No. I always neglect to mention that. Cleopatra lived by jer-as-sanon, and eventually was consumed by it. You've probably heard the story of the asp (even then there were cover stories), but perhaps the more thoughtful amongst you have mused upon the phallic symbology of the snake...and wondered. If so, then you have perceived some glimmerings of the truth. The two-edged sword of jer-as-sanon cut deeply into the soul of my most famous ancestor. She used it well, and she used it often, and the world washed up at her feet because of it, but it was an empty hulk of a world seeking...something else. Always sadly something else. Never she. So one desperate night (not during the afternoon as false history would have you believe), hoping to salvage some last victory over her curse, she turned jer-as-sanon upon herself. Sometimes I imagine she died with a smile upon her lips, but I will never know.
Yes, for awhile jer-as-sanon is beautiful, but then you begin to realize that something is lacking in your life. The world continues to pursue you with open arms and pleading eyes, but you perceive that it is not you they are seeking but the ghost of jer-as-sanon. You may be able to ignore the doubts at first, certainly you will try, but no one has ever succeeded in ignoring himself. And it's a cold lonely feeling to rise from the bed of your thousandth lovemate, with the sick realization that it was not you they were seeking but something else. Something else. And you will begin to wish you were that something else. You will begin to yearn for that long ago day when they came less frequently but they came for you.
Jer-as-sanon. Remember that name: soon it will be your curse.
But enough of this maundering. It is time now to reveal the secret to you, so that you may experience the ecstasy of Mara Hari and Casanova and Cleopatra and me. No longer will jer-as-sanon be a tightly held secret known only to a few. Now you also can descend into the willing arms of the world armed with a technique so powerful that some have threatened me with death should I reveal it. Alluring movie stars and sensuous musicians will flock to your door, hoping for a glimpse of you, a touch, just a few hours alone with you and jer-as-sanon. No matter what their famous names -- Debra Winger, Tom Selleck, Nastassia Kinski, John Travolta -- all of them will either adore you or envy you, but absolutely no one will deny you once you've mastered the ecstasy of jer-as-sanon. You will have your fill of lust and flesh and romance and joy. And the hook of jer-as-sanon will drive deep into your groin; there is no escaping it.
Why do I do this thing? Why do I condemn you to a lifetime of lust? We're back to that word again aren't we? -- we -- that's what I want: we. Ecstasy is such a lonely place, and so I lure you to me with jer-as-sanon. What an evil person I am. Isn't it enough that I have washed up broken upon this shoal of endless sexual pleasure? Do I have to involve you also? No. It isn't fair. I have no right to involve you in my problems. No. Forget I ever mentioned jer-as-sanon. It doesn't exist.
Some important updates on the "new sexual technique":
Well, I think we all owe Rich Rosen a hearty "thank you" for his safety tips. However, I think I should make a few additional points based on personal experience which may also aid some of you who are attempting this technique.
First of all, if you're using a compact car, a giraffe won't do without considerably more trauma than you'd probably wish to induce. A llama is an acceptable substitute. In a pinch, you can make do with two collies, but the effect is hardly the same.
Next, remember that water and electricity don't mix well. The toaster oven should be unplugged after use, especially if you're skipping the step with the ratchet wrench and whipped cream and moving directly to the water-pik and bunny slippers.
Under NO circumstances use CRUNCHY peanut butter -- the little chunks of peanuts can irritate the skin of the gila lizard to the point where it will sulk and refuse to pull the feather boa when you need it. As you can well imagine, this can result in the candle burning through the parachute too soon, and you'll need some of the escape equipment that Rich noted.
I prefer maple syrup to pineapple/apricot lotion, but that's a matter of personal preferences. I'd advise against the syrup, or using honey if you're outside, because the bees tend to distract the quail.
You can substitute crazy glue (but obviously not thumb tacks!) for the masking tape, but not if you want to use the piano again.
That's all I can remember at the moment -- when done properly, the whole thing tends to cause blank spots in your memory (usually no more than a week, although one young lady I tried it with still hasn't quite regained consciousness). Enjoy, and remember, no one likes to sleep in the wet spot -- be considerate of the others and clean up afterwards; no more than a roll of Bounty should be needed.
Off the Wall of Gene Spafford