TMI :) LOL
Defined as the joy of playing with yourself through the phone, Facebook and twitter. How can this be? The once treasured and oft' thought hidden self satisfaction and "ME" time has been replaced by an orgasmic relationship with the phone!
Sign of the times
I was always worried my sons would turn out like me - rebellious and always in trouble. Instead, they are great kids. Doing well at school, moving through puberty seemingly effortlessly where I suffered and failed. I was well beyond high school when I finally figured it all out, but my kids have it together. Yet, there's this fascination with electronic devices - cel phones, computers, iPods, game components - that simply weren't around in the 70's when I was their age. We had to make do with what we had - sticks, a piece of string and two cans, a hockey stick - pong was the only electronic release, and you had to go to the bowling alley to play that. Inevitably it lead to playing with our own parts. Today, it's about the communication unit, the vibrating unit.
It's a good thing, or is it?
Kids are connected. They can instantly know that is trending, what their friends status is and where they are at any moment. I remember heading out on a Friday night with a couple of friends just hoping to find where things were happening. Too often we ended up hanging out doing nothing with no none around because we weren't connected. We relied on pay phones to connect - when was the last time you used one of those? Do they even exist? Now they know what's going on because they are wired in, but ironically, when they get together, they continue to communicate through their devices - texturbating together. Mass texturbation, a texturbating orgy of kinds. Maybe a combination of sexting and texturbation.
Our electronic advancements have given us so much liberation, yet taken away so much tactile human interaction. How often do we write a letter, or pick up the phone and actually talk to someone? How much do we touch each other anymore?
I lost my virginity in a pup tent in a campground on the fringes of Penticton when I was 15 with the daughter of the campground owner. Late, according to my friends, but who actually knows. It was one of the worst sexual experience of my life, yet obviously, one of the most memorable. I wonder how it will happen with my boys. I hope it won't be through *textual intercourse!
*Note: My 14 year old son Sam coined that one, but I'll take the credit!