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The Lisa Files: Where Do Babies Come From?

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January 14, 2002

As a five year old, I thought the man got on the woman on the couch, he peed in her and she peed back. It would get all over everything — each other, the furniture, the rug. In my imaginings, it was quite sexy — the liquidity, the abandon. When I was finally old enough to put my hypotheses into action, my boyfriend and I peeing on each other’s feet and thighs in the shower just couldn’t compare.

    

There is a lot of literature about inappropriate fluids-sharing and the passion therein aroused; George Bataille made a whole career out of it. Another old Frenchman wrote a “novel” about he and his lover throwing up into each others mouths — how incredibly

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intimate it was and how no one would understand their unique love. Then he found a whole group of people all throwing up into each other, but I think he made that part up.

    

These extra-juicy phenomena are served well in books and dreams — where no one gets pneumonia from being naked and wet all night and you don’t need a cleaning service after each encounter. But I think the feeling they’re trying to capture — the pouring forth, the waterfall bringing all the taboos down — that, I believe, is the essence of good sex.

    

Not all youngsters’ romantic imaginings revolve around things that belong in the toilet. My friend Eliesha was horrified to discover, as a teen, that the penis actually has to be inserted into the vagina. She had assumed that it magically got in there by itself. Eliesha was crushed to learn the more prosaic truth — that the world can be so clumsy and forceful. And yet, when the light and the electrical currents are just so, the penis does magically get in there by itself, doesn’t it? I asked other people what they thought sex was like when they were kids — and whether their adulthood reality has ever drifted close to that dream. Personally, I still believe my childhood pee-sex myth . . . but as with all great myths, it’s best kept symbolic.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Lisa Carver is the author of the books Dancing Queen, Rollerderby, The Lisa Diaries and Drugs Are Nice. She’s written for Hustler, Index, Icon, Feed, Newsday and Playboy, among others. She lives in New Hampshire.

©2002
Lisa Carver and Nerve.com, Inc.