Ben Lee Handler Ben Lee can hold out a
good fifteen minutes before he dies for your sins. E-mail him at
shirtsleeves@hotmail.com with
any of your sex/love problems and they may be featured in one of
his upcoming columns.
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My God, my God! Why have you forsaken me? Jesus, your Latin
lover (who was actually born and raised in East Los Angeles), has
prematurely baptized your backside with the most unholy of fluids,
dying his little death far before your prophecies of a righteous
stigmata, or rather, a thorough nailing, can be properly fulfilled.
From the looks of Him, there is nary a ray of hope for a lasting
resurrection or second coming on the immediate horizon.
Don’t worry, Jesus still loves you ““ He whispers in
your ear, obnoxiously referring to Himself in the third person as
He embraces you in the spoon position and drifts into heavenly
slumber, snoring majestically.
Love you Jesus may, but does He possess the magic to save your
relationship from the hell of dreadful sex? Will Jesus ever rise
again?
The American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and
Statistical Manual ““ the psych world’s bible of
dysfunction and disorder ““ defines premature ejaculation as
“persistent or recurrent ejaculation with minimal sexual
stimulation, or, before, upon, or shortly after penetration and
before the person wishes it.” However, unless you’re
burning bushes with Sting or some other self-proclaimed sex God,
your prayers to shack up with any poor soul (or two) for forty days
and forty nights ““ or whatever length of time you wish for it
to last ““ will go largely unanswered; studies have shown more
than 75 percent of men to ejaculate within an unspectacular two
minutes of penetration.
For the vast majority of this 75 percent of men, premature
ejaculation is a mighty cross to bear, the weight of the world
forcing its gravity on every carnal thrust of the pelvis, teasing
the thruster that each could be his last. After every subsequent
fall to an ultimately unsatisfied orifice, these men cry out to
their shamed and shrinking organs, “why are you so far from
helping me, so far from the words of my roaring?”
You listen to your lovers yelp out this morbid psalm time and
time again ““ except when Jesus is over, who has a nasty habit
of falling asleep after one short go without any signs of remorse
““ but instead of comforting them with love and understanding,
you make a mockery of them, smearing the lamb’s blood of
nasty gossip on their doorposts ensuring that future prospective
lovers will ultimately pass them over for a better boy.
Has it ever occurred to you that maybe your lovers’ Towers
of Babel will never be able to take you to heaven unless you start
communicating your concerns during the initial tempering of their
fountains, unless you speak the same language from the genesial
beginning? Instead of bending over for a partner pensively,
cynically expecting your untapped pleasure well to hide its face
from you once again, try bowing with enthusiasm. Encourage your
partner, let him know that you trust in his unfailing love. Sing
praise to him, for he is trying to be good to you.
While it may seem foolish to exert such blind faith in someone
““ or something (God help you) ““ from who, by the way
you are positioned, you are quite literally prevented from seeing,
rest assured that the man lording over you very well could be one
of the one-in-four (or more) who is for real. And if he
isn’t, just keep on praying, keep on practicing until your
particular lord works for you.
You may find it helpful to know that I, Ben Lee Handler, once
found difficulty making your quick-triggered Jesus perform for me,
too. For my personal relationship with Him to prove fruitful, I
found that all Jesus required was a little support, a little clue
to show Him I believed in Him.
“Jesus,” I said to Him, “I believe you can
satisfy me at least one of the next three times you put your wood
to work on my backside without dying early. You have three chances
to make my cock crow, or I will pass over you for a lover who can
control himself.” It was tough love, sure, but it was
successful, almost miraculous. Every encounter after I declared my
belief in Him was a godsend, resulting in near-eternal orgasms for
which I will forever praise him, as praise is comely for the
(lastingly) upright.