NaBloPoMo #8: I'm not licking that reprise

All the Sex Monologues is over, and I don't think anybody could argue that it wasn't a success. We sold out both shows, and today we had to hold for 10 minutes, because we had a line out the door and around the corner. More chairs had to be set up to accommodate everybody. The audience laughed and cried. Many condoms were handed out. I'm grateful for my friends who came out to see the show, and that my son Drake and daughter-in-law Montana came last night too. It makes a difference being up there on the stage, trying to be funny, that I was talking to friends .... although the whole having an orgasm up there on stage in front of my kids might have been awkward if I hadn't had my eyes closed the whole time.

I got to work with some wonderful, talented people. While performing monologues is not the same as working on a play together, we still became a pretty cohesive group. I feel grateful to have been able to work with them on a show that was both entertaining and relevant and for such a good cause. I'm not sure how much money we made for Planned Parenthood, but I suspect it's more than was projected.

And now the crash comes. I always crash after a show closes. I tried to avoid it by cleaning, but it's still there. I feel tired and a little blue, like I've got a loose end flapping around. But a busy week will sweep that away before long.

I don't usually repost old posts, but tonight I'm going to repost "I'm Not Licking That" with the revisions I made for the show. I know pride goes before a fall, but I am proud that I wrote and performed my own monologue. It's a powerful feeling, and I'm getting some fresh ideas for writing more performance pieces. So if you've read this, sorry. If you saw the show this weekend, sorry. If you've never seen this one before, I hope you enjoy it.

Recently a friend sent me a link to an article about a new app that got me really excited. Not for myself so much as for my male friends.

It's an app that teaches men ... I mean people ... no, I really mean men how to lick. It’s a licking app! Do you want to know right where my mind went? Good licking makes for good cookies. This is brilliant, I thought .... and I definitely should have thought of it first. I'd be every woman's new rich best friend.

I started to make a list of men I've known ... OK, I mean fucked in the past who need to know about this licking app. Wait! I know what you’re going to say, and I’ve considered the consequences, and I'm sure any judge would agree this is more important than following those silly restraining orders. I thought I would compose a message to my exes that was both sensitive and encouraging, not critical or blaming. In fact, I actually planned to encourage all men to download this app and start lapping away at their screens immediately. Who can't use more practice? Fuck Words with Friends. Start licking, boys!

Then I decided to make beating this game a prerequisite for dating a guy. Just in case we ... or he .... went down .... that path. I thought if I ever joined an online dating service, I'd say right up front I wanted proof of proficiency with the licking app before I swiped right. Or is it left? Nevermind. I had big plans for this licking app.

Then I read an interview with the developers, and disappointment set in.  "Do we think you'll be a better lover because of it? No." That’s co-creator Chris Allick. "Do we think it's an interesting approach to human computer interaction and making people think about their sexuality and maybe start a conversation? Totes."

Do you think I was disappointed when I read that? Totes! Really, Chris, who wants to start a fucking conversation? What we woman want are more tongues wagging, and a lot less talking.

If it won't make men better lovers -- I'm assuming men, because I haven't heard any lesbians complain about lack of attention to detail in their licky licky -- what the fuck good is it? If it won't make men better cunnilinguists, why would we want them to slobber all over their phones trying to flip a light switch or roll a virtual beach ball around? They could just as easily practice tracing the ABC's with their tongues on the tips of their pinkie fingers.

When I saw the name of this app, I expected to see a cartoon version of the lady bits. I expected the player would get points for locating the clitoral sweet spot and staying on it long enough to win the game. I expected an explosion of cookies on the screen or at the very least a series of satisfying ah .... ah .... ah ... ah .... AAAAAAHHHHH sounds. Or both!

I must confess, I didn't download the app to taste-drive it. I could come up with reasons not to get it, but no good reason I should. For example, google "cell phone poop," and you'll learn that 1 in 6 cell phones have poop dust on them. Anderson Cooper's phone has poop dust on it. The creators of the app suggest people use plastic wrap over their screens to avoid contamination, but grilled cheesus that's a lot of work for something I really don't need to practice. And anyway .... ick!

I did click over to the developers' website and saw Club Sexy Time has several other free, yet useless, apps. Like a stare-down app, a pencil-arranging app and a booby trap app. OK, I was tempted to check out that last one. Who doesn’t love boobs? But then I remembered my time is valuable. Someone might have posted a funny, new meme or a cute photo of a kitten on my Facebook feed while I was playing a booby trap app. And since even the developers admitted the licking app would be of no use to pretty much anybody ... I decided fuck it. Which is not the same as lick it.