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Friday
- March 12, 2004
Match-stick Men
I miss Kid Notorious. We need new
episodes.
First and foremost, I'd like to remind everyone that tax season
is upon us. I've updated the Tax
Help Page with two new professionals that I have had
contact with and seem reputable. If you haven't gotten it
together yet, the calendar is tick-tocking away.
I've also added two new Links
you might want to check out -- Martha's
Girls and Tasty
Trixie which were both an utter treat for me.
It seems the Google Florida update is s-l-o-w-l-y shaking some
of its kinks out of the system. Yahoo's new algorithms are just
hideous, but they're no worse than they used to be. One thing
I'm noticing is one particular company (and, rest assured, it's
a company) that has risen to the top of the listings by doing
everything you shouldn't do to get search engine placement.
Across all their sites are scathing horrors like hidden text,
keyword spamming, etc. I'm not going to name any names, but if
you do a search for "Phone Sex" you'll find it, and
let's just say it's a "Pissy" way to make your mark on
the net. I have never been a girl to expect everyone to raise to
my particular standards, but organizations like this make it
clear why my industry is considered a joke with no dignity. When
you see trash like this being rewarded, even momentarily, with
high search engine rankings, it can't help but be a little
disheartening. Yes, the logical being inside me knows that this
is a temporary thing while Google and Yahoo shake out their
respective algorithm problems, but my sense of fair play is,
justly, offended. If you're a phone slut in anyway considering
these same no-class tactics, I would like to please encourage
you not to. When the tide shifts, and it's only a matter of time
until it does, you'll have participated with the lowest common
denominator of our industry and contributed to the reasons we
are regarded as sleaze mongers with no ethics. Please just focus
on building a good site with actual content, and ride out the
storm. It'll win you a classier level of clients and more
self-respect in the long run.
While I was examining the effects of people with no self-esteem,
I thought it might be fun to talk about Match-stick Men. I went
back through as many entries as I dared and it occurred to me I
hadn't mentioned them before, which feels impossible, but c'est
la vie.
Match-stick Men are a particular breed of submissive that likes
to be ridiculed for having a very small penis. Sometimes they
are cross-over "sissy boys" or "panty boys"
or even "diaper boys" but their focus is always on the
fact that they are not just small, but puny. In many cases
Match-stick Men are powerful business professionals that want to
be humiliated by a secretary or business partner -- someone that
mysteriously knows their secrets and seeks to exploit it and
humiliate them. A disproportionate number of Match-stick Men
are, in fact, in upper management positions. The language they
use and the numbers they call from leaves no doubt of that.
There is a fascinating number of "powerful" men that
need to lose control and be submissive, but it is the
humiliation factor of this subset that really amuses me. Is this
some fantasy way of embracing the fact that they aren't as
endowed as they'd prefer to be? Are they really super-sized Big
Mac combos that merely like to pretend they're a nuggets happy
meal?
The MMs often have what I can only refer to as "Pussy
Envy." In fact, oftentimes, their cocks will be so small
they they refer to them as nothing but a nup or a clit. As in:
"Look at that pathetic little thing! You don't even have a
cock, you have a clit!" Which, of course, leads the way to
telling them they need to be fucked in their puckered little
cunt-hole ;-) And, sometimes, that is the ultimate culmination
of the fantasy -- making them rub their "clit" while
they are taken from behind in a variety of ways.
I don't think this expresses any deep desire to actually be a
woman. In fact, many of the cross-dressers I speak with are
markedly heterosexual. But there is something intrinsically more
submissive in being the receiving party in a sexual exchange. In
being penetrated rather than doing the penetrating. Personally I
think the Match-stick Men want to first and foremost established
that they CANNOT be the aggressor or dominant in a sexual
situation. I mean, to a standard guy's way of thinking
"dominant" means that you are in possession of the Tab
A which slides into Slot B. But, as phone slut knows, possession
might be 9/10s of the law, but that remaining 10th has got a
peach of a lawyer. CBT is NOT Computer Based Training in our
educational halls, honey. (You need to read that last line in a
Tollie Mae accent).
But, I digress.
I think that Match-stick Men are dominant and sexually simple
folk that have been raised to think in very primitive terms. Big
cock means dominant heterosexual man. Big cock means strong man.
Little cock means pussy boy. Little cock means cannot fuck women
folk. Etc. As any survivor of corporate America will tell you,
you stop thinking in humanizing terms somewhere around middle
management, and everything becomes more crisply Square Peg or
Circle Hole from there on up. There are no ovals or rhomboids
after a while. They don't fit the sampling or the target or
whatever else the goal post has been painted to represent. The
worst part of it is that it isn't an
all-of-a-sudden-I-woke-up-one-morning event, either. It's a
gradual process, like an immigrant's loss of their culture. And,
so, male submissiveness must equate to small genitals.
I'm not picking on these guys, mind you. Although, we should be
clear on the fact that they LIKE to be picked on. MMs are just a
very simple set of subs. They are not complicated or difficult.
They are not long-callers. They don't handle a lot of deep
fantasy. They have small cocks. They want to be laughed at for
having itty-bitty-clitty-cocks. They want to be made to
grovel/lick/suck target A and then possibly opt to get fucked in
their hole B and still be able to make it to the afternoon
meeting on time.
So, put that in your martini and stir, baby ;-)
(You need to read that last line in a Robert Evans accent)
xox,

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