Sex Encyclopedia

Here is a question for the universe:

Why do people call toilets 'rest rooms'?

 I don't understand.  Do you see anybody resting in this room?  I don't know about you guys, but there are times when I work harder in the bathroom than I do at my actual job.  Like say, after Mexican food.  I don't feel awkward about it.  Everybody poops.

I have never related to a television show more than the time I watched that episode of How I Met Your Mother where Marshall is too embarassed to take a shit at work.  More often than not, I will go out of my way to avoid using the work toilet for anything heavier than a onesie.  Like, to a point where it's probably unhealthy.  What?  I refuse to be judged for trying to maintain a pleasant environment for my colleagues.  I tend to experiment with odd food combinations.  And there are some smells that no amount of vanilla air freshener can cover.

But enough about poo.  I want to talk about sex.

MUM, LOOK AWAY.

Back when MJ still worked on Mondays, he and I would often be left alone in the salon for long stretches of time with nothing to do.  Nothing except talk about sex, that is.  Being almost 7 years older than me and the ex-boyfriend of some pretty big weirdos, MJ's sexual history is...encyclopedic.  He's got an answer for every question, I've got the dirtiest mind this side of Uluru - we're perfect together.  And I could probably write a book on what I've learned about testicles.

One of MJ's main theories when it comes to sex is that the guy is always in control.  I don't agree with this by any means, but am usually happy to go along with whatever MJ says - partially because of the entertainment factor, but also because I'm too much of a lazy git to bother arguing.  Exhibit A:

MJ: I thought New Years Eve was a pretty good movie.

Me: You're kidding, right?

MJ: No, see because -

Me: You win.

Anyway, every once in a while he'll actually come out with something I can use.  Exhibit B:

MJ: Guys love it when you wake them up by, you know...touching.

Has anyone else heard this?  Is it actually true?  The last time I tried testing it was at 6 in the morning when I was still drunk from the night before, and I ended up getting lost and fondling the bottom right hand corner of my own doona.  Boyfriend didn't even wake up.  The only thing I learnt from that life lesson is that no one is a bigger idiot than me.

And that my doona likes it rough.