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Point / Counterpoint - Food vs Sex

Author: Shane King and the hack
Friday, 23 November 2007
FOOD
By Shane King


“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Truer words were never spoken. 

Besides the obvious fact that you need food to live (unlike sex), food is better in every way.

Firstly, sex needs two people. So for all the single people, sex is not always an option. In many ways, food for single people is sex. The flow of juices, the tingling on your tongue, amazing satisfaction, muscles contracting – you get the picture. Food is one-person-sex without the worries of being possibly labeled ‘a wanker’. For single people, food is a guaranteed lover.

When it comes to those who are fortunate to have a sexual partner, food still tops the list.

In today’s world, food is never going to give you an STD or make you a parent. You take off the plastic wrapper rather than put it on. With food, the worst case scenario may be a cold sore from sharing.

Think about a night out and the preparation before sex happens. You don’t have to use charm or wit and buy him or her drinks. Food comes ready to enjoy (or you just heat it up in the microwave).

Food doesn’t come with the baggage of a sexual partner, there is no need for meaningless chit-chat and you don’t have to be someone you’re not. Food loves you already for who you are and gives instant satisfaction.

There is no need for any foreplay. Although enjoyable for some, foreplay in the food world is as complex as salt and pepper shakers.

Eating is as simple as a quickie or half-hour one-night-stand, just you and the object of your digestion, with no concern for others. Even if you happen to share a pizza or nachos or even a bowl of salad, or at family gatherings, no one is ever jealous, no one is ever hurt, no one ever cheats and there is no guilt.

If the sex is bad, it’s uncomfortable and worst of all, remembered. It’s especially awkward if you have to see them again in the staff room or at a social gathering. If it’s bad food, you throw it out and get some more without the need to apologise or caress it to make it feel better.

When it comes to food, you are never ‘doing it wrong’. Guys, you don’t have to please. And there is only one hole and you know where food goes.

Girls, sometimes after all the preparation and effort, the sex hardly seems worth it. Food is a guaranteed pay off. You will always be pleased (or at least full).

After the whole activity, everyone’s tired (and maybe frustrated) and just want to roll over and go to sleep. Similar to a big meal, drifting off on the lounge doesn’t seem like a bad idea, at least the food won’t wake you up and ask to be eaten again!


SEX
By the hack


Boy, how do you compete with that- How can the fundamental drive to procreate compete with the tender joys of barbecued honey soy salmon with garlic aoli, or cumin dusted lamb kebabs wrapped in prosciutto- It’s a tough scene – can the g-spot win against a t-bone-

Now, I consider myself a hedonist and a connoisseur up there with the best of them, and after many years of careful research into both areas, I have to conclude that a roll in the hay is better than a ham roll, any day.

For instance, let me open up the folder marked Tax Invoices on my computer. What will I find in there- Let me give you a hint – it’s not illegally downloaded clips of Gabriel Gaté whipping up a soufflé (although deflation is still an issue). 

How much of our time do we really devote to food- Maybe an hour a day, total, for the cooking, eating and cleaning- Or perhaps closer to 20 minutes, if you’re a fan of the drive-through variety. But how much time do we devote to sex- (And I’m not just talking about the actual in-out-in-out bit – I mean the whole process of getting educated, holding down a job, avoiding obesity and maintaining personal hygiene that we go through to attract sex partners.) Our whole lives – that’s how much time we spend on sex.

And isn’t it worth it- I mean, if I went into a restaurant, ordered a chicken parmigiana, asked how much it cost and they told me ‘your whole life’ I’d tell them to take their chicken and stuff it. But if I went into a brothel, asked how long a root would go for and they told me ‘your whole life’ I’d be laying down my credit card faster than you can say “embarrassing next meeting with your bank manager”.

Sex is just great. It’s the best. Really. If you need me to tell you that then maybe you’re not doing it right. It’s good solo but it’s better with two or more people, it’s free, it’s relaxing, it’s brilliant for a hangover, it’s a great way to meet people, it looks good on film, it’s worth hours of conversation fodder, you can do it anywhere and in any way, it’s ecstatic, orgasmic and every time you do it, it keeps getting better. Which is more than I can say for left over stir-fry.

Quite frankly, I could go without a decent meal for the rest of my life if I was promised three good shags a day for eternity. If I lost my taste buds, I think I’d still get along OK in life – not so with my meat and potatoes. When jihadists go to heaven, Allah doesn’t promise them 72 virgin olive oils. When the Bible talks about Eve damning mankind for taking a bite from an apple, I’m pretty sure that’s a metaphor. If Siddhartha had spent a little less time begging for rice and seeking enlightenment and a little more time with the harem at his princely palace then maybe we wouldn’t have to put up with self-righteous Western Buddhists.

The bottom line is, a good meal just can’t compete with a sweaty, messy, frantic fuck. No, not even lasagne.


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