A Sign of the Times

Roy Karch
Is it just me? I mean, seriously. Is it just me or is every woman I see everywhere I look — on the street, at the laundromat, supermarket and bowling alley — all the gals I see look like porn stars, wanna-be porn stars, on the fence about being a porn star or simply a look-alike fan emulating porn stars? Or…is it just me?

I realize that porn is number one on the Top 10 list for hip and trendy, but do all the women need to look like they get paid to fuck? I’m talking about either on camera or off. Daytime or night-time. Any time. Chicks look like they are ready to be ravaged at all times. The good news is … they are! And the better news is that I love it.

Look what our perverted minds have created. How were we to know that 50 years after stag films projected onto white sheets hung from a wall, porn would evolve out of the lexicon and that the pornification of our global consciousness is now officially complete. The USA has given birth to the New American Woman, er sex toy, cum sex object, cum sex worker, cum sex addict, cum sex freak.

I for one I say hooray! Having come up through the sixties when most women were still virgins, saying they were virgins or perhaps actually believing they were virgins — BJs, HJs and dry humping didn’t count then either — and while others were “waiting for a ring,” I was here as women libbers and feminists around the world became a movement. A very powerful movement.

Little by little the global phenomenon led to more freedoms, a liberalism the culture hadn’t seen since the roaring twenties — shorter skirts, braless babes and the hippie free-love mantra that, like a watercolor mist, colored the textures with a tint of wide-eyed marvel at the bliss there was to enjoy and share. The textures made it OK to be free and open about your sexuality. Betty Friedan and Betty Dodson, although both divergent in political preferences, shared the same thoughts on women’s orgasms.

Betty’s “Sex For One,” perhaps the first ever book virally marketed, was rapidly spreading the gospel. Stiletto-heeled fashion models stepping in their cum-fuck-me kicks or the Christopher Street open air market where all the boys and men west of 8th Avenue paraded like the peacocks they were. Further uptown at The Continental Baths, Bette Midler sang her heart out while strutting her pre-MILFescent self through the steam. Simultaneously, at the hidden treasure of Plato’s Retreat further downtown but also on the West side of Manhattan, real swingers carried on like…well, porn stars.

The golden egg came shooting out of America’s ass and spread around the world and there was revolution in the air. Unlike the revolution penned by Gil Scot Heron, this revolution will be televised. In fact it’s in living color and is being aired around the clock.

The global arena has caught the contagious virus of freedom. It’s understood that trend-setting American culture has spread through every city in the world. Paris, London, Rome, Prague, Toronto. All around the planet, women have all gone wild. Forget girls gone wild. That was fine for the teeny phenomenon that swept through the din for a while. But, the generation of testosterone-driven young guys now are being attacked. Yes attacked by swarms of MILFs, cougars, the newly widowed, the recently divorced and just simply the oh so horny are all ready to jump into the fray.

Watch out boys they’ll chew you up.

The New American Woman…Sex Toy! You know who you are. Yes you do.

It’s global warfare, I tell ya, but…

…Don’t Get Me Started!


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