I just read about a woman with HSV1 who transmitted the virus to her baby because she kissed him near his eye. Now the poor kid gets herpes outbreaks that apparently threaten permanent damage to his vision. I don’t have any kids, but I have a cat. Could I blind Dr. Snuggles if I smooch her fuzzy face while I have a cold sore?
Define “cat.” Is this smoochable creature a domestic carnivorous mammal that licks its butthole and hates fun? (Felis catus.) Or is it a human in a cat costume that has sex holes in its privates for ease of access? (Furry.) Or maybe it’s a jive-talkin’ bloke that mouth-trumpets Louis Armstrong riffs? (Cooooool cat.)
Either way, what’s with the French-kissing eyeballs? Anyone with a hankering to mouthfeel the soft slime and hearty squish of an eyeball should check out Iceland’s delectable sheep eyes.
Common sense and a Google search tell me that household cats won’t get human herpes. Human-to-human oral herpes is transmitted through kissing, licking affected privates, traditional sex, body fluid hose-downs, saliva and blister fluid (gag, gag, technicolor yawn). I’ll assume you don’t practice five of those six on your cat, and if you do, I’ll call the pigs. (Pigs = cops. Not a plus-one to the gangbang. And sorry, cops.)
Most sexually transmitted diseases don’t transfer to animals. But I’m not a doctor. Plus, I have got to stop searching weird shit. A beastiality forum invite just pitched a tent in my inbox.
To be safe, stick to kissing your cat on the fur.
That’s unfortunate for that little baby human. Maybe when he becomes sexually active in 2034, there will be a permanent cure for herpes — like maybe Dr. Future will find that Spam is a herpes miracle drug that also promotes hair growth and pops sturdy boners. With a consistency that rivals eyeballs, we all win.
I fell asleep on a plane and woke up with my hand down my pants, which isn’t unusual, it’s how I sleep. I think I spooked the lady sitting next to me. I feel like a public statement needs to be made that some people sleep differently and I’m not a sexual predator?
Hands in the Air:
As you wish. PSA: Some people sleep differently, and I’m not a sexual predator. Ahem. Some people sleep differently, and that dude who wishes to remain anonymous is not a sexual predator.
Mission accomplished, bro. A dozen people now know that some dude who goes by the name “Frequent Flyer” is not, I repeat, NOT a sexual predator.
Can you wear gloves? Wrap your hands in bandages? Hold “Jabberwocky” in your hands? (The book, not your ding dong.)
Maybe if there are more deterrents to your hand slipping into the subconscious comfort zone, it will stray from clutching a swath of pubes.
Or try to stay awake. Snort Fun Dip. Chug Red Bulls. Headbang to Pantera. Have Cat Kisser tongue-down your eyeballs. Anything you can do to avoid a handful of pubes floating around the cabin like dandelion fuzz when you pull out would be a boon to the whole flight.