Q: How do Women Who Sleep With Women (WWSWW) practice safe sex?
A: I don’t know about you, but when I was in high school, sex ed consisted of forcing students to carry around mechanical babies filled with sand for a weekend. The babies were programmed to cry at inopportune times, like when you inadvertently swallowed ecstasy when looking for Asprin because you (ironically) had cramps during your weekend with the plastic baby and the bottle of Aspirin at your friend’s house wasn’t Aspirin at all, which you probably should have figured by the little Buddha on the pill. And if you were too busy petting your friend’s linens to press the little Shut The Fuck Up button on your mechanical baby’s sand-filled ass, you were granted custody for an additional weekend, which might have been the weekend you were supposed to go camping with your new friends (seniors!) who liked to smoke grass out of apples and let you light their cigarettes. Point being, I barely know how to have safe boy/girl sex, much less that girls gone wild shit.
Thankfully, I happen to be good pals with some older, more experienced WWSWW, and they teach me things. According to my mentors (friends), some women engage in this thing called “monogamy,” which is a euphemism for Lesbian Bed Death.
However, even monogamous couples sometimes have to deal with STIs. In this case, there are several ways to ensure you’re partner doesn’t throw a lamp at your head or post a libelous Myspace bulletin when she notices that her mons no longer has the healthy pink glow of the disease-free.
If you’re really concerned, here’s what to do: invest in latex gloves. Seriously. While much R&D has been devoted to safe boy/girl conjugal action (copper wire in your innards? Good idea!), there just aren’t that many options for WWSWW. There are, of course, dental dams, but they look like fruit roll-ups and probably get more action from dentists than from the Sapphic set. Also, they taste like balloons. Latex gloves, however, are apparently standard operating procedure for responsible fisher-women. Use lube.
Ironically, WWSWW using sex toys often rubberize them the same way you would a bio-ween. This strikes me as unfortunate. Didn’t we choose to be gay because we think condoms smell funny? Yes, yes we did.
I, however, have devised a new method of safe sex. But before I explain, you should understand something….
After many years of unchecked hedonism leading to forced employment termination; the end of perfectly cute and/or meaningful relationships, romantic and otherwise; the desecration of what could have been an upstanding reputation in various towns and cities; and a constant state of insolvency, I have decided to grow up. That’s right. I’m going to pay my own phone bill. I’m also no longer sleeping with people just because I’m drunk and they’re willing. That said, I do plan on the occasional libated evening, and because there is a causal relationship betwixt booze and sex, I have come up with a method to ensure that even if I get jovial enough to make out with a straight girl in an alley, I will go absolutely no further.
How? By making myself so unappealing beneath my drawers that I’ll be too embarrassed to show my body to anyone, regardless of my BAC. I’m going to dye my pubes tangerine, get a $30 tramp stamp of Celine Dion holding a preemie, and shove garlic in my birth canal before I leave the house. Safe sex? No problem.
Now, I realize this won’t help those of you who actually want to have sex. For that, ask actual experts.
Have a good weekend, people. Don’t catch anything.