Did I mention that I really, really enjoy performing cunnilingus?
Meet Jan Luedecke. As you can tell by this photo, he's pretty shy. But he's a ground breaker in the field of poontang protaganism. And ground breakers are usually pretty shy people. Just look at Prince as but one example.
It wasn't a sexual assault -- it was sleep sex.
In an unusual case in a Scarborough courtroom yesterday, Jan Luedecke was acquitted of sexual assault after a judge ruled he was asleep during the attack -- a disorder known as "sexsomnia
"This is indeed a rare case ... His conduct was not voluntary," said Justice Russell Otter, as Luedecke's victim shook, sobbed and then left the courtroom.
Women's groups, being women's groups, couldn't refrain from once again blaming the victim.
The judgment has outraged women's groups.
"This is infuriating. It's another case of the courts not taking a woman seriously, adding yet another list to the list of excuses which men use for sexual assault," said Suzanne Jay, of the Canadian Association of Sexual Assault Centres.
Being a contrarian asshole, famous the world over, I would argue the reverse is true. For far too long, the courts have not been taking sexsomnia seriously. For how long have men everywhere been branded scurrilous rapists when in fact they have only been accidental rapists? I suggest too long. Perhaps if men were allowed to nap at work, this medical condition would disappear forever.
But today, to quote President Gerald Ford, "our long national nightmare is over." Martin Luther King, Jr. would be beaming today if he hadn't had his face shot off 37 years ago. Indeed, he might not have gotten there with us, but we have seen the Promised Land! Verily, we're here, we're queer....oh, wrong speech.
Alas, I've never awakened to find myself pounding my meats into a lovely young lady, but this is only because I'm so very unsightly. However, if I had a nickel for every time I woke up to find that I had be viciously throttlling my own schvantz, I'd be rich. If I included the times that, as a child, I woke up to find my left hand in my jammy-bottoms, dreaming of a particularly fetching priest, I'd buy a bus with spinning rims that light up at night and annoy other drivers. I'd also paint it like the Partrige Family bus, because if that couldn't get me laid, I just don't know what would.
And if I had a nickle for every time I awoke to find my genitellia being lovingly massaged by, say, the back of a woman's throat....Well, I'd have a nickle. But that only happened because I was in danger of being late for a flight. You see, I'm so unsightly that the young lady in question couldn't wait for me to get out of her country. But that's the story of how my battle cry, "Remember the
Dumbarton Bridge!" came to be born, and that's another story for another day.
So Mr. Luedecke isn't alone. We just differ in specialties. I'm a notable soloist and he's more of an ensemble player.
Luedecke, a 33-year-old landscaper, met his victim at a party on July 6, 2003. Both had been drinking.
The woman, who can't be named, had fallen asleep on a couch. She woke up to find him having sex with her. She pushed him off, then reported the rape to police.
She didn't know Luedecke before that night.Luedecke claimed he fell asleep on the same couch and woke up when he was thrown to the floor.
He only suspected he had had sex after using the bathroom and discovering he was still wearing a condom, court heard. He confessed to police.
Well, there's a mitigating factor right there. If you are cursed enough to be a sexsomniac like me and Jan, you had best be a
safe sexsomniac! In this day and age, you can't wake up to finding yourself fucking just
anyone without protection. This cat should get a gig with the Learning Annex.
Before all you broads get your panties all in a knot, I should let you know that I'm still pissed at Luedecke. You'll see why soon enough.
During his trial, sleep expert Dr. Colin Shapiro testified Luedecke had parasomnia -- a disorder with symptoms such as sleepwalking. Shapiro testified Luedecke suffered from sexsomnia, which is sexual behaviour during sleep.
It was brought on, he said, by alcohol, sleep deprivation and genetics.
Luedecke previously had sleep sex with four girlfriends, court heard.
FOUR! That ain't right! I've only had sex with one sleeping woman before. And that's only because she practically begged me to do it. She told that ever since she was a little girl, she had dreamed longingly of being slam-fucked awake by an ugly Canadian idiot with a georgeous cock. And I even managed to fuck that up, as I kind of woke her up by stroking her clit first so that she had no choice but to get on her hands and knees and slam-fuck me!
But that leads to the story of why you should never sneak out of a motel to avoid the late check out fee and let said woman drive you to the Greyhound Station and circle it six times so that you miss your bus and delay your getting home to recover from the said sleep-fuckery by eight hours story, and this is neither the time nor the place for that one either. Needless to say, I think that the only reason that that happened was because I was unsightly and so fucking good in bed that she couldn't bear to let me leave the country. That happens from time to time.
On the other hand, I could be wrong and she just wanted to make my life difficult. That happened a lot when I was with her. Not that I'm bitter or anything. Okay, I am bitter, but my bitterness makes me ever so adorable. You might not want to admit that, but you pretty much have to.
Anyhow, some of you folks might be wondering why I'm writing about this story. I must have an ulterior motive or something. You teenagers are what I call "my more perceptive readers." You'd be right.
I'm writing this in the hope that
Dewey in Toronto reads it and immediately falls in love with me. Dewey has a really cute smile and I think I would greatly enjoy making her squeal with my mouth. I figured that there are four things that Dewey should know about me. These are as follows
1) I can orally pleasure a woman in way surpassed only by an autistic child. And that's an unfair analogy, because its a yardstick no one can beat, what, with all the twitching and thrashing about - to say nothing of the gurgling.
2) I'm one of those guys that, just because I might fall asleep from complete exhaustion, doesn't mean that either one of us has to miss a minute's worth of fun.
3) Since I used to regularly left Canada to persue my objective of carnally gratifying women, taking the TTC doesn't mean a whole lot to me.
4) I'm a big kid inside.
These four things should all teach Dewey that I'm the tall-skinny- super-white (in a way that makes Al Gore look like James Brown) and geeky guy of her dreams. It should also make her overlook the fact that I smoke like a chimney, drink like a fish and that I'm a professional loser.
Which reminds me, I'm wasting time on my dopey blog that I should be using to writing my letter of resignation. Yes, the Greatest Company on Earth formally hired me this afternoon.
