March 15th, 2005
A journalist emailed me today saying they needed to check over my quotes from a story they’ve just finished, and their assistant was going to call and sort it all out.
“Oh, by the way”, they added. “We’ve made a couple of tiny additions to your interview. I’m sure you won’t mind, but can you just say if you don’t want your name associated with them?”
The assistant calls, and we start going over the quotes.
I’d said in the interview that we shouldn’t make it seem as though there’s a massive distinction between ‘foreplay’ and ‘proper’ sex. Also that if a male partner’s coming too quick, then some of the pressure can be taken off him by avoiding making his orgasm the end point of sex.
Here’s the edited version with the ‘tiny additions’ thrown in.
“Make your foreplay last as long as you can before moving on to the real event” and “try loads of different positions and techniques to delay him from coming too soon, and make sure you get your orgasms in before he comes”.
They also added two new quotes that I hadn’t even said…
“Sex is really only all about biology and your hormones” (yeah, right) and my favourite…
“A man instinctively knows when you are fertile. He can tell just by looking at you”.
Presumably this journalist assumed that a) I’d be happy to be associated with these ideas, and b) that these ideas were right to begin with.
I had hoped that when journalists hear nonsense sex advice on a daily basis that they’ll be pleased when they hear something useful – and can differentiate between good and bad information.
Clearly I was wrong. Question is, what are we going to do about it?Tweet