Sharing is not always caring.

Sex is good. I know this isn't likely to be a wildly revelatory statement, but I feel the need to get it out of the way, because it's kind of the whole basis of why people swing.

Not pictured: what I'm talking about.

You see, for most people, a normal, sedentary sex life is enough. They find a partner, have as much sex as they can both have without either of them succumbing to cardiac arrest, and continue about their lives. Oh, sure, they might dabble in some more interesting methods of pleasure, such as bondage or role play, but it's always with the same person, and it's always comfortably familiar.

But, just like with cake, there are some people who simply cannot abide limits. They need more, in every way: larger quantities, richer quality, more diversity. And so, said sexually free people are faced with three choices: have more sex with their current partner (and stress them into a cardiac arrest), introduce kinkier kinks such as Violet Wands (and possibly scare them into a cardiac arrest) or, as many do, turn to swinging.

Still not pictured: what I'm talking about. 

Some say swinging (i.e non-monogamous behaviour among committed partners) began in the wild, free-love era of the '60s, some say earlier, in the American military camps of the '50s, but the origin is of little importance: I don't personally believe it's become any more or less acceptable or unacceptable since its inception, so I'll just talk about how I see it now. Talking about swinging now and then would be like comparing murder now and then; it's reasonably sure that there won't be a sizeable difference in reaction.

Famous? Yes. Accepted? Not particularly.

Much like many of the things we write about, whether swinging is good or bad is largely up to the context. Swinging absolutely needs to be mutual, with both partners participating, or else someone's likely to end up hurt. If one person's swinging, and one person isn't, it's not really swinging - at best, it's an open relationship; at worst, cheating, which is all the salient information I really have on this topic. I'm sure the others will inform you about the etiquette, safety precautions, and how to avoid having to sleep with the atrociously ugly woman at the swingers party, but I'm just here to furnish you with info from personal experience: make sure what you're doing is actually swinging.

As per usual, feel free to send comments, critiques and bank details to homojournal@gmail.com.

Yours faithfully,

James.

You can tell that I was only one sad-song away from a full-blown Cretzal meltdown a la "Repent, Heterosexuals!" while writing this. We don't need another one of those.

How NOT to introduce your boyfriend or girlfriend to the family.

I'd just like to take the time to point out that this week's post comes to you from NEW YORK CITY, which is where I am currently being very overly-excited because I'm about to go and see Wicked on Broadway :D I am also about to go and spend every single penny in my possession (or cent or dollar or whatever they call money in the States), because I can, and how often is it that you're taken to New York for a belated 18th Birthday present?

Oddly enough, the mention of theatre seems like the perfect way for me to start my advice on how not to introduce your boyfriend to your parents. I don't know about you, lovely reader person, but outings to the theatre are rare in my family, and when they do happen, then my mum usually comes with me, because she's the one who's paying. This is therefore an ideal opportunity to blurt out to your parents while on the way to said theatre that you're meeting your boyfriend there, and you took the liberty to pay for his ticket on their credit card.

Of course, that situation isn't true for everybody, but this one probably is: for some, the temptation to invite your boyfriend/girlfriend over for violent sex on the kitchen table during one of those once-in-a-blue-moon periods of being home alone is just too great to resist. Depending on your outlook on life, this can be a good thing, or a bad thing. It's obviously a good thing because you get to have hot steamy love-making time with your other half, in a safe environment where you don't run the risk of being arrested for indecent exposure under a tree in Hyde Park.

It's also good because if your family return early and unnanounced, and they don't yet know you're gay, they certainly will when they walk in on the climax. While this may be awkward, you kill two birds with one stone: you've now come out of the closet, AND they've met your significant other. Of course, if you're home alone, you probably wouldn't confine your antics to the kitchen. Just make sure you've cleaned up after yourselves so that it's not overly obvious when your family return...

If awkward moments like that aren't your thing, or you think that one of your family members might come after you with a machete, you might go for the more subtle "Mum, Dad, this is my fuckbuddy, Greg" route. Clearly this is the safer option - at least you won't get an STD or Salmonella from your poorly maintained kitchen table. Then again, this still doesn't eliminate the possibility of being chased half naked down the street by your machete wielding father, so all in all, any way of introducing your boyfriend or girlfriend to the family is looking slim.

Perhaps the only sensible option worth considering is to not introduce them at all. Clearly if you live in one of those dysfunctional familes where machetes and AK-47s look like they could be genuine possibilities, apart from seeking professional help, it might be safer for all those involved that you just don't introduce him or her to your charming relations. Anyway, once you've left home and moved in with your fuckbuddy, you're free to have your violent kitchen sex without the risk of anybody walking in, and then everybody's happy.

I realise some of the scenarios in this post were a bit extreme, I confess I was slightly drunk when writing this, the creative part of my brain got the better of me. I'll be back in England next week, I'm sure I'll report on my fabulous state side excursion in more detail over the coming weeks :P In the meantime, feel free to send a detailed report of your other half's awkward introduction to the family* to homojournal@gmail.com. And if your experiences have been even more alarming than those I've suggested here, do write us a guest article and send that to the same e-mail address!

* machete not required.