An orgasm is like a squat cartoon woman yelling “bippity-boppity-boo” at your genitals and then they feel like a glittery pumpkin.
Like a rattlesnake dancing inside your nether bits.
An orgasm is like getting your head cut off, but the chainsaw is covered in Molly.
As the French call it, “the little lunch.”
That thing where your leg sorta starts twitching for no reason and you’re scared but also it tickles and you can’t really stand on it? Like that.
Champagne Jello?
A secret.
Like when you turn your head too fast and a shooting pain goes up the side of your skull but you have to keep sitting still because the lady blowing out your hair isn’t done yet, but good.
Maybe like peeing.
Light as a feather, stiff as a board.
That dream where you’re a mermaid and can do somersaults underwater.
Like a bath, but also like a breeze? Sure.
A wave of, something, surely, cresting around your…umm, hmm.
Okay definitely like peeing but you’ve been drinking pure gold and holding it in for four days.
Sleeping but awake.
WhooooooooOOOoooaaaaaaAAAAAaaaaAAAAaaaa.
Getting your hair washed at the salon.
“Getting your hair washed at the salon.”
This.
One time I got my hair cut at a salon in Amsterdam and the scalp massage that the woman gave me was truly an orgasm for my head.
I once got a hair wash in a salon that I never knew existed and could never find again. They had a special hair washing room that was dark, the chairs laid down flat, there was like, soothing music, no one was allowed to talk. It was PURE MAGIC & I’m pretty sure I was in some kind of liminal space, under a mound or something.
This is a lovely, compelling image! It reminds me of Elizabeth Hand’s short story “Near Zennor” in her collection titled Errantry. Since this is the toast, I’m not going to feel weird about shoehorning a book recommendation into an article about orgasms.
FOR. REAL.
….excuse me….ummm…I…well. I think I need a few minutes……….
He could be the fucking Lawrence Olivier of porn.
CleverManka is the best at .gifs. ♥
I can never stand salon washes, probably because the washer spends five minutes on my (“oh wow, you have so much hair!!!) ends, and no time on my greasy roots. This is the exact opposite of both what I need and what I like, and so probably a good sex metaphor after all.
I also get the “OH WOW YOU HAVE SO MUCH HAAAAAAAIR” thing. Yes, dear stylist, I had noticed that strange occurrence when I took my hair down and it exploded into a cape of hair.
I would love getting my hair washed at the salon, if only it didn’t wind up putting my neck at an excruciating angle.
Your limbs detaching from your body and floating around the room like an astronaut’s toothbrush.
God I love getting my hair washed at the salon.
If y’all read my books & run across Light as a feather, stiff as a board in one of them, you’ll know that part was written sometime after 1/26/16.
Not that rattlesnake one, though. The book with nests of allegorical hibernating rattlesnakes predates this.
“Okay definitely like peeing but you’ve been drinking pure gold and holding it in for four days.”
This resonates.
In that case, would you say your partner has…the Midas touch?
I’ll be here all week.
Rattlesnakes, chainsaws, pain that goes up the side of my skull, peeing… yeah, ok, I’m not missin gout on anything, thanks for the confirmation! Also, I HATE getting my hair washed at the saloon. Stop touching my skull, lady, and no, no amount of massaging will make me feel comfortable. Just stop.
Yeah, I’ve heard of the fabulous experience of salon shampooing but every time I’ve had it done, my spine feels like it’s electrified. Just bits of electricity shooting up and down my back making me wriggle and wish the discomfort would end soon. Maybe I’m a super scalper or something like those super tasters…
That sounds like ASMR except horribly unpleasant.
I read a description of ASMR once and I thought “wait, people like that?”
THIS. I hate the salon 🙁
Gerbils running between your feet and your bellybutton, using your femoral artery as a highway.
Like realizing that man next to you has finally shut up.
Surely we can’t know that this comparison is accurate, since ‘that man next to you’ NEVER shuts up.
I should really try getting my hair washed at the hairdresser’s one of these days.
Some of these are just ASMR, right?
ever since I discovered this as a thing I could control, my life has taken on a deeper meaning. BRB gonna go listen to some dude whisper in my ear.
As much as I love falling asleep spooning my boyfriend, when he tells me “I’m gonna be another hour” I immediately get excited because it means I can fall asleep to a gentlewhispering video. I love her so much. Dang.
Heather Feather is my poison, although ever since she posted a makeup tutorial featuring albinwhisperland (better known as albinwonderland), I’ve been pretty fond of Angelina as well. I also like her social media presence in general.
No, ASMR feels like worms on your bare scalp. An orgasm feels like not having to bite your nails because they’re short enough to be comfortable.
Seriously, though. ASMR is much like torture. THE WORST.
Does it feel like being tickled? I am curious as to what ASMR feels like when you hate it.
I’ve got bad hearing, so my first instinct when I can’t understand someone is to listen harder because it’s sort of embarrassing to keep saying “What? What?” Thus, the more murmury and indistinct, the more I unconsciously concentrate and the more I feel like saying “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING? WHAT? WHAT? TALK IN A GROWN-UPVOICE! JESUS!” I also tend to get uncomfortable chills down my spine with ASMR. So, so creepy. My shoulders are tensing up at the thought of it.
That wiring that people have? I’ve got the other kind.
I certainly think the opposite of ASMR exists–like when someone scratches a chalkboard, for instance, or chews with their mouth open.
One of the reasons I find ASMR so fascinating is that many of the sounds that cause it for lots of people–crinkling plastic, tapping, people whispering–are IRRITATING BEYOND BELIEF either sometimes or all of the time, both for the people who love ASMR and people who don’t. I’ve even found that some people get ASMR from chewing sounds, and they put me in a borderline-murderous rage. (I don’t think I have misophonia except for that one sound.) I don’t even like whispering–I adore soft-spoken voices, but I fast-forward through whispering in the videos I watch.
I mean, my hearing is fine, but I have a mild auditory processing issue, where my brain doesn’t always interpret what I’m hearing, so I always turn on subtitles/captions when I’m watching TV, for instance. But I’m relatively good at tuning out of the words and listening to just the sounds of things that are on in the background (which is why I rarely know the lyrics to songs–unless I’m trying to sing them, I just don’t bother trying to understand them), so when I’m listening/watching ASMR, I’m not actively attempting to understand what they’re saying, so the soft-spoken-ness doesn’t bother me. There’s one video I’ve watched hundreds of times (no exaggeration) where I only recently realized what she was saying for part of it!
I always turn on subtitles/captions when I’m watching TV, for instance. But I’m relatively good at tuning out of the words and listening to just the sounds of things that are on in the background (which is why I rarely know the lyrics to songs–unless I’m trying to sing them, I just don’t bother trying to understand them)
Are you me? Apparently I miss all the office drama because it’s so much easier to just not try to understand the coversations going on around me unless I absolutely have to.
Yeah, it exists insofar as ASMR does, (or at least this is the closest opposite I can find). As described by Wikipedia:
Misophonia, literally “hatred of sound”, is a rarely diagnosed disorder, commonly thought to be of neurological origin, in which negative emotions (anger, fright, hatred, disgust) are triggered by specific sounds. The sounds can be loud or soft. The term was coined by neuroscientist Pawel Jastreboff and biological scientist Margaret Jastreboff and is sometimes referred to as selective sound sensitivity syndrome.
I could go for a little lunch.
Seriously a warm baguette and some brie sounds amazing.
indeed it does
“A warm baguette and some brie”? Well, there’s a euphemism for you.
I’ll have what she’s having.
Alternately, if you are having no orgasms, I recommend “the quite sizeable lunch.”
“As the French call it, the little lunch”
This sounds like Zapp Brannigan.
Sexlexia!
Jaya’s posts here are quickly becoming my favorite thing.
That feeling when you have been hiking in the rain all. fucking. day. and it has been cold and you have not successfully warmed all the way up ALL DAY and then…the shower is ACTUALLY HOT ENOUGH because you got to it first and not the housemate who stays in there for 20 minutes.
Hot shower after a weekend camping trip.
Like sneezing, if you had to think really really hard about pollen and black pepper in order to sneeze.
If you get distracted and start thinking about sage and thyme it won’t work!
http://orgasmsihaveknown.tumblr.com/
When I was in high school, I had to have ultrasounds of my liver and pelvis on the same day. I don’t remember why anymore. My mom forgot to tell me that you have to drink a lot of water before the appointment, and anyway I ended up drinking an absurd amount in like 15 minutes. A liter? A half-gallon? I don’t know how I didn’t puke, is the point.
So by the time I got to the doctor I was in considerable pain already, and then of course I had a long wait before it was my turn. The tech did my liver first, and by the time she got to my pelvis I was whimpering. She pressed down so, so hard. I was crying. I asked her to please be more gentle, and she sneered at me and pressed harder. By the time I was released to waddle the five steps to the bathroom, I was not sure I’d make it that far.
That pee, my friends. That pee was the best physical sensation I have ever, ever felt. Better than any orgasm (and I’ve had some whoppers). Better than getting my hair washed or my back massaged. Better than that first moment of clear sinuses after a cold. There just is no comparison. I peaked at age 17. Nothing will ever be that good again.
OMG, I had this eaxct. same. experience. I am dying laughing right now.
To me it feels like that point where something is so funny that you tip over into actual uncontrollable laughter. There’s also an element of not being able to quite believe the fullness or wholeness of the sensation. And all that feeling is concentrated in your junk and also the muscles in your lower abdomen.
It’s like lying in a warm sunbeam drinking chilled sparkling rose while having your feet rubbed by Shemar Moore.