sex

Wanna ____ around? by Carolyn Busa

Originally appeared on My Sex Project.

Well, here we are. It’s summertime. Warm days, long nights, sticky thighs and sticky fingers from my dripping...ice cream cone.

Summer makes me think of two things: hot sex and cold ice cream. I want both on a constant loop. I want both at the same time. I’m a Little Miss Veruca Salt of boning and soft serve. I want it now! 

There are many variations of both sex and ice cream: flavors, positions, toppings, toys. You like it on top? Great. Chocolate/vanilla swirl, you say? Sounds good to me!

It’s no surprise to me that we all have different preferences when it comes to sex (and ice cream). But what has come as a surprise to me is how we choose to define what goes down in the bedroom (Or kitchen counter. You do you). Jimmies and sprinkles may mean the same thing but are messing around and fooling around also the same? I say no!

Here is my very scientific glossary of hook-ups for you to review while waiting for your Mister Softee. Or Carvel. Or Ample Hills. Or Van Leeuwen. Or Big Gay. Or Cold Stone. Or DQ. Or Ben and Jerry’s. 

Goofing around - There’s not much action happening during goofing around. Goofing around is the turf that will eventually be played on. But not yet. Right now it’s flirting. Lightly touching someone’s back after a funny joke (that probably wasn’t funny but you’re trying to show interest). Goofing around lays the groundwork for…

Rolling around - Back in the day first base meant kissin’ wit dat tongue. Think of rolling around as a more intense version of first base. But rolling around is not just one kiss. It’s a make-out sesh like none other. It’s all the kisses you wanted to give that person while you were goofing around. Rolling around is a sweet release. But not that kind of release. That release comes with...

Fooling around - Now. We’re. Talking. Or not talking, nah’ mean? Fooling around finally gives us a look at each other’s junk. Questions are answered. Sights are seen. No penetration.

Screwing around - This is a very penetrative-focused hook-up state. Do not ask someone if they want to screw around unless you are 100% sure you are on the same page. There’s no screwing around when it comes to screwing around. 

Messing around - Like screwing around except it’s forbidden

Fuck around - All the perks of screwing around with the added bonus of jokes and play. This is a very sexy but very comfortable hook-up. You can stop, start, tickle, tease. Accidentally fart? No problem. You’re done being superficial at this point. You only fuck around with someone you care about moles, smells, freckles, sounds and all. 

Crawl around - Like all of the above but on your knees, you kinky freak. 

Fart around - Marriage. 

Does my glossary match up with yours? What are your go-to descriptions of hooking up? What ones do you use most? Never? Tell me!!!

I am MissToiletSlave by Carolyn Busa

At the rare chance I do a podcast or an interview, the question I get asked the most is 'What does your Twitter name mean?'

'MissToiletSlave', I tell them, 'is a lyric from a song about taking a shit.'

Silence.

There's hardly ever enough time to get into it so I end up sounding like a freak. And that's fine. But with origin stories being all the rage these days I figured it was finally time for MissToiletSlave to get hers.

-- 

Back before I dreamed of doing comedy, I came across a semi-secret track on a Fischerspooner album. It started the same as their other tracks, synthesizers, bass, you know, electronic noises (I don't review music for a reason). However, instead of the male voices I was used to on previous tracks, a sexy, strung out, female voice began a laid-back rap of sorts. "Oh!" my brain said. "I like this."

I was a junior in high school who knew nothing about how sex worked and probably kissed with tongue roughly four times at that point. But this song! This song made me want to FUCK.

She sounded like a Vogue-era Madonna, except instead of 'Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rodgers' I caught phrases like, "My man calls me cherry" and "I just smoked a pack of my Kool fags" and oh boy - "There is cum stain on my panties and jizz in my wig." Those words meant SEX and I was IN. 

A bit later when Twitter came into my life, it came time to think of a username. Had I known a few years later I'd be promoting myself as a performer, I may have just been @CarolynBusa. But because I was a child of AIM and screennames, I had to be creative and quirky and put my entire personality into a few letters. I was a little older at that point. A little more experienced. And I remembered that Fischerspooner song. I remembered how sexy that woman sounded. Especially when she said at the end of the song: "I've got to be strong. Got to be brave. Don't want to bear the title, MissToiletSlave." Yes! MissToiletSlave! MissToiletSlave was sexy! MissToiletSlave would turn heads! MissToiletSlave would never buy drinks herself! Sure, she'd spend the next day hung over but damn, she'd look good doing it. 

It wasn't until a bit later when I was at a bar with friends and they questioned me about my questionable handle. "Oh, it's from this sexy Fischerspooner song!" I happily said. But they weren't buying it. Using whatever first edition iPhone he had, my friend Pete looked up the lyrics online.

"Carolyn." he said. "This is a song about taking a shit."

"What! Nooooo." I laughed. "It's about a girl and being sexy and fucking and margaritas and jizz!"

He started reading to me.  

"Moaning and a heaving on a hot sticky can..."

"Yeah like! Sex moans!" I said.

"Storing up my supper, coffee and my snacks..."

"Hangover snacks, duh!"

"Ok." he said. "Explain this then, 'The shits piling up kinda feels like a cramp. Instant relief is what I need to ease the megacolon that's inside of me.'"

I couldn't think of an explanation for that one. He continued reading, each line more damning than the next until finally it all came crumbling down: "The shit got soft, creamy, slick. It came out in a blast that was really foul. Forget the White Clouds I need a Bounty towel."

"Ok, stop!" I begged. "You're right! It's a song about shit!"

I've gone through life obsessed with a song about shit. More embarrassing, I thought it was sexy as hell. My wet dreams were shattered. My brain somehow blocked all the shit-related lyrics leaving only the 'sexy' ones. And yes, the song was called 'Mega C' but like maybe the c stood for cool or cunt or even Carolyn!

Nope. Colon. A big, long, shit-filled colon. After that I thought long and hard about my web presence. Would people expect only poop jokes from me? What if I got famous and was known for my shit-handle rather than my actual jokes?  I opened up the settings on my Twitter account. I put my cursor in the username box and backspaced until only the M was left. I hit Delete a final time. In it's place I wrote 'CarolynBusa.' My profile page was updated and all my tweets stripped of any poop presence. No longer a slave to the toilet.

I spent the next couple days studying my page. CarolynBusa. CarolynBusa. CarolynBusa. Yeah, sure, that was indeed my name but I don't know, CarolynBusa didn't excite me! Sure, MissToiletSlave had a bad case of diarrhea but man, before that she was having margaritas and Chinese food and there's no way she got jizz in her wig doing something boring. 

With the urgency of Dr. Jack Shephard I again opened my Twitter settings. I had to go back.

I feared in those two days MissToiletSlave would no longer be available, gobbled up by another freak like me. But of course, there she was. I reclaimed my throne (!) and felt a sigh of relief flush, I mean, rush over me. 

Years later, my Twitter handle remains the same, I have an Instagram with the same name and my web series That's MISS Toilet Slave To You is premiering at the end of 2018. Okay, that last one isn't true but the point is, I love my MissToiletSlave identity. She's sexy for reasons you can't quite grasp. She's nasty, yet relatable. And yes, she finds humor in dark, sometimes hard to wipe, places.