Read Online The Seven Deadly Sins by Corey Taylor - Free Book Online
Authors: Corey Taylor
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is funny, I guffaw with the best of them.
That is not to say I have come out unscathed. I have scars that have their own little hellish tales. I have drunken visions of going to bed with one girl and waking up with another. They started out as the same girl, they just looked incredibly different, and better, in the dark. We have all had that experience of coming out of a whiskey-drenched slumber and all of a sudden your house is fucking haunted. And why do they always want to make you breakfast? I cast you out, unclean spirit! Where the hell is Max Von Sydow when you need him?
Instead of diving hip deep (no pun intended) into the usual suspects, I want to talk about something I find hysterical: the times when we feel anything but lustful and sexy. For instance, there is nothing less sensual than trying to look suave when you know you have to take a shit. I do not care who you areâyou could be Brad Pitt or Rocco Siffrediâno one can find the stones to make a move when torpedo tube #1 is flooded and ready to launch, if you smell what I am shoveling. The turd pressure
alone is enough to wilt the strongest boner right to the hilt. And if you are feeling unfresh, good luck with your game. This is more of a woman problem, really. Guys could smell like hot garbage and still be ready to go Casanova on the opposite sex. Women are a little more discriminating. Then again, women have much better taste.
That is really the issue, right? Men and women have very different triggers when it comes to lust. Most men are basically dowel rods in search of the next piece of wood for insertion. Women are multidimensional sexual beings; they are susceptible to attraction on so many dynamics that you never know what is going to float their boatâhopefully allowing you to put the motor to said boat. Where men only need a few seconds and a cocktail (again, no pun intended) to be ready for hot jungle sex, women usually need time, talk, and a good whiff of the intellectual pheromones. I know some women are just as chauvinistic as us dudes are, but I am merely making a point. Men and women handle lust in very different ways.
So here is my question: What the hell does âGodâ have against fucking?
We have just established that people do the sexy time in so many ways. If the clergy have the Holy Handbook, complete with merit badges, I would like to personally peruse the chapters and get a grip on the codex therein. Is it like a pie chart? Is there a graph with graduated states of arousal? Do the sins themselves graduate to misdemeanors or felonies? Are there subsections on certain sins in which the penance is more lenient, say for penalties regarding sex in public as opposed to sex with Myrtle the Cow? My final question is easy: If there is a secret manual, when do we ever get to see it? They leave us to our own devices to distinguish between sexual right and wrong with nothing more
than recrimination. How does it feel to be left hanging with guesswork and assumption when it comes down to your immortal soul?
This is why I am calling Holy Horseshit. There is no book. There is no script. There is no Godly Guideline. There is nothing more than the personal opinion of those who are quite convinced that they are closer to God and, therefore, more important and smarter than we are. What an impossibly fucked up attitude. They stand on high and think they are infinitely better than we are. Well, the last time I checked none of my friends or family were guilty of child molestation. In fact, in my opinion, children are more in danger of being abused in a church than anywhere else. The Church cannot handle their own lustful ways, so how dare they question ours?
Again, do not get me wrong. I am talking about regular old-fashioned lust here. I am not making an argument for people who try to disguise or defend sex and abuse against children, rape, or anything else that is not between consenting adults. As far as I am concerned, there is no
That is not to say I have come out unscathed. I have scars that have their own little hellish tales. I have drunken visions of going to bed with one girl and waking up with another. They started out as the same girl, they just looked incredibly different, and better, in the dark. We have all had that experience of coming out of a whiskey-drenched slumber and all of a sudden your house is fucking haunted. And why do they always want to make you breakfast? I cast you out, unclean spirit! Where the hell is Max Von Sydow when you need him?
Instead of diving hip deep (no pun intended) into the usual suspects, I want to talk about something I find hysterical: the times when we feel anything but lustful and sexy. For instance, there is nothing less sensual than trying to look suave when you know you have to take a shit. I do not care who you areâyou could be Brad Pitt or Rocco Siffrediâno one can find the stones to make a move when torpedo tube #1 is flooded and ready to launch, if you smell what I am shoveling. The turd pressure
alone is enough to wilt the strongest boner right to the hilt. And if you are feeling unfresh, good luck with your game. This is more of a woman problem, really. Guys could smell like hot garbage and still be ready to go Casanova on the opposite sex. Women are a little more discriminating. Then again, women have much better taste.
That is really the issue, right? Men and women have very different triggers when it comes to lust. Most men are basically dowel rods in search of the next piece of wood for insertion. Women are multidimensional sexual beings; they are susceptible to attraction on so many dynamics that you never know what is going to float their boatâhopefully allowing you to put the motor to said boat. Where men only need a few seconds and a cocktail (again, no pun intended) to be ready for hot jungle sex, women usually need time, talk, and a good whiff of the intellectual pheromones. I know some women are just as chauvinistic as us dudes are, but I am merely making a point. Men and women handle lust in very different ways.
So here is my question: What the hell does âGodâ have against fucking?
We have just established that people do the sexy time in so many ways. If the clergy have the Holy Handbook, complete with merit badges, I would like to personally peruse the chapters and get a grip on the codex therein. Is it like a pie chart? Is there a graph with graduated states of arousal? Do the sins themselves graduate to misdemeanors or felonies? Are there subsections on certain sins in which the penance is more lenient, say for penalties regarding sex in public as opposed to sex with Myrtle the Cow? My final question is easy: If there is a secret manual, when do we ever get to see it? They leave us to our own devices to distinguish between sexual right and wrong with nothing more
than recrimination. How does it feel to be left hanging with guesswork and assumption when it comes down to your immortal soul?
This is why I am calling Holy Horseshit. There is no book. There is no script. There is no Godly Guideline. There is nothing more than the personal opinion of those who are quite convinced that they are closer to God and, therefore, more important and smarter than we are. What an impossibly fucked up attitude. They stand on high and think they are infinitely better than we are. Well, the last time I checked none of my friends or family were guilty of child molestation. In fact, in my opinion, children are more in danger of being abused in a church than anywhere else. The Church cannot handle their own lustful ways, so how dare they question ours?
Again, do not get me wrong. I am talking about regular old-fashioned lust here. I am not making an argument for people who try to disguise or defend sex and abuse against children, rape, or anything else that is not between consenting adults. As far as I am concerned, there is no