EROS DAY and the BONOBO WAYSPosted in Article
Now that the Hallmark Holidaze are done, it’s time for an uncensored celebration of love, lust and the pleasures of life: EROS DAY! Saturday night, January 19th, 2008, we will hold our Ninth Annual Eros Day honoring Eros the God, Eros the Planetoid and the Spirit of Eros in Our Lives at Dr. Suzy’s Speakeasy in the Soul of Downtown LA. So, make your Eros Day Reservations NOW before the price goes up, and it will go up ;-). A portion of the proceeds goes to help save the bonobos from extinction. The rest goes to making Eros Day happen.
Porn Power Couple Darryl Hanah and Jack Fountain will reign as Venus and Eros on Eros Day, and if their performance at our Halloween Erotic Insurgent Masquerade is any indication, we are in for a sensational celebration. We’ll also celebrate BonoboWay Developer, Speakeasy Girl, Warner Sister and Melo Queen Sara Sioux Robertson‘s 28th birthday, which happens to fall on Eros Day (all you Eros Day trivia buffs will recall that a beautiful young actress named Sara Sue Robertson was Venus for our Eros Carnavale in 2003). We will also bring back the Bondage Cross, we’ll have some hot new feature guests, Chinese Aphrodisiacs, and many exciting surprises.
EROS DAY GUIDE
First, go to my EROS DAY BLOGGAMY of 2007, which explains The Eros Day Basics (What is Eros Day? Who or What is Eros? What Time Does The Orgy Start?), Click on the various links and learn about the astronomical and mythological orgins of the holiday that frankly honors the spirit of lust in our lives.
You’ll also learn about how we celebrate Eros Day here at the Speakeasy..
Like snowflakes, no two Eros Days are alike, but you can get some idea of what might happen by watching films of past Eros Days on RadioSuzy1TV.
There’s an Eros Day for every day of the week, and we’re playing them now through the month of January to help you get into that erotic insurgent Eros Day Spirit.
There’s been a Blue Values spin and an Eros Over Thanatos feel to most Eros Days, and on Eros Day 2008, we will celebrate the end of an era of war and greed, the last Eros Day under the Bush Crime Family.
Who knows who’s next for the job, a woman, a black man, an artist (check out the U.S. Presidential Platform of my running mate Frank Moore). At least, we’ll get rid of the war criminals, and hopefully, then we’ll get rid of the war (which has never really been a “war,” starting more as an invasion and becoming more of an occupation).
Just as long as we know it’ll be Anyone But Bush, it’ll be another very merry Eros Day indeed.
A BONOBO FAMILY HOLIDAY
So, ricocheting from the future to the past…what did we do on our winter vacation? Well, funny you should ask…Spur of the moment, Xmas Eve, in the spirit of our kind of family values, we decided to visit our family; that is, my brother and sister-in-law in La Jolla and our “kissin’ cousins” the bonobos in the Zoo. We took a lovely Xmas morning train ride down the coast, the sun rising as ocean waves seemed to lick the tracks just beneath our windows. Canaan picked us up in San Diego and took us right to the Zoo where we celebrated the holiday with our bonobo cousins. Unfortunately, my bonobo soulmate, Lana, with whom I had my epiphanic inter-species experience on my last zoo visit, was not out and about this Xmas day. But her son Junior came out to play, along with a naughtier female named Ikela, who made the news a few months ago when she bit off the tip of trainer Mike Bates’ finger. And yes, bonobos can be violent. They’ve just never been seen being lethally violent like common chimps and humans sometimes are. Besides, Ikela probably didn’t mean to hurt Mike who is an exceelent trainer. She was pregnant and got flustered when Mike pointed at her. Amazingly, Lana picked up the severed fingertip and returned it to another trainer, and Mike’s poor finger is now on the mend
Anyway, on Xmas Day, Naughty Ikela and Junior the Hot Mama’s Boy put on a fantastic sex show for us. At one point, they French-kissed quite vigorously, tongues undulating around each other more explicitly than porn stars. I couldn’t help but overhear the kid next to me observe, “Look, they’re kissing.”
Whereupon a woman, presumably his mother, corrected him, “No, honey, they’re just grooming.”
Not one to allow this blatant sex misinformation to go uncorrected, confusing the poor kid about The Birds and The Bees (and The Apes) even more than he already was, I piped up, “Actually, they’re kissing.” There is no way that two primate tongues twisting around each other could be considered “just grooming,” even by Ian Parker of The New Yorker. Nevertheless, even as the words were emerging from my rather big mouth, I realized that I didn’t know these people and was not safely ensconced in my broadcast studio where I can tell the truth without fear of attack. I cringed, waiting for Mom to smack me with her organic snow leopard handbag. Instead, I felt blessed to hear her utter, “Oh, hmm, they are kissing.”
I turned around, and she and I smiled at each other, then we all smiled at the kissing bonobos, and had a brief beautiful moment of Xmas truth between us before she trundled her Junior away from Bonobo Junior and over to the far-easier-to-explain hippopotami.
Then the rest of us went back to bonobo watching. Moving on from kissing, as so many randy humans do, Junior and Ikela did a round of what we might call “heavy petting,” fondling breasts, tonguing ears and going down on each other’s genitalia with particular passion and sensuality. The oral sex was not as shocking as it might sound, as they tend to do this when lying down in the dark grassy part of their zoo enclosure, so all the human visitors can see is one bonobo head bobbing up and down in what looks like licking motions between the other bonobo’s legs as he or she lays back, jaw dropping in what appears to be ecstasy or bored toleration, depending on your interpretation.
All of this is quite remarkable to witness, if you’ve never seen bonobos before. Of course, we veteran bonobo watchers had observed this sort of activity on previous trips to the zoo as well as in films of bonobos in the wild. But later, as the sun set on Xmas Day, we saw something that, I must confess, surprised and very nearly scandalized me, at least as much as the French kissing had rattled that mom.
Juinor was hugging the edge of a grassy slope with his long muscular arms, rocking his pelvis against the earth. First slowly, and then with great speed and intensity, he humped the edge of this cliff. I rubbed my eyes (how long had we been awake?). I had seen bonobos masturbate before, with fingers, leaves, twigs and rubber balls. But I had never seen a bonobo hump the ground (though a telephone sex therapy client of mine, an exhibitionist and nature lover, told me that he has done this sort of thing, on occasion, though he just gets down on his backyard lawn, not having the upper body strength to hump a cliff).
At first, I thought it was an aberration. Maybe Junior had an pelvic itch and was scratching it in an interesting way. Then I realized that this was like Mom explaining the French-kissing as “grooming.” Either Junior was very itchy, or this was indeed a kind of conscious sex act, something he kept doing over and over, and on different slopes, cliffs and patches of ground. Then we observed Ikela a few feet across from Junior, doing essentially the same thing. Being on the other side of the slope, she was considerably harder for us to see, but it appeared that both Junior and Ikela were humping the earth while looking directly at each other, in a form of bonobo mutual masturbation that we had never witnessed before.
Then we noticed that both bonobos seemed to be doing what we would have to call Kegel exercises, squeezing and releasing their PC (pubbocoxygennus) and sphincter muscles in rhythmic fashion that suggested a definite build-up in erotic tension. Then, powerful right hands gripping their respective sides of the slope, left hands reaching around the rear, both bonobos fingered their “private parts” which were not very private at all. “Oh my God,” we exclaimed along with our fellow shocked humans watching, like peep show voyeurs around a big glass cage, as their fingers went in-and-out with machine-gun speed..
Unaffected by our embarrassment (or maybe they were teasing us?), the bonobos took their little XXXmas Show a step farther. They pulled their respective fingers out of their asses, examined them like concerned proctologists, then started sniffing and licking them like passionate fetishists. Then the earth-humping resumed and the whole process started again. This went on for about 20 minutes before Junior got up, looking slightly bored, and bounded off to climb trees. Had he just ejaculated into the Earth? Within five seconds, Ikela got up and bounded off in the other direction. Shortly thereafter, we bounded off to Canaan’s SUV.
Do Male Bonobos Have a P-Spot?
There is no “moral” to this story, except that here’s yet another interesting sexual, non-reproductive activity that bonobos do to pass the time and keep the peace. It also seems that what we call “The P-Spot” in men isn’t limited to humans. Junior enjoyed fingering his butt at least as much as Ikela enjoyed doing hers. Though I’m not sure if she was fingering her anus or her vagina since our view of her was not as clear as Junior.
This is not just silly monkey business for assholes. Scientists have observed that bonobos don’t get prostate cancer, even though they do have prostates and seminal vesicles just like human men. This is sometimes attributed to the fact that bonobos eat a lot of fruits and vegetables (though they are not vegetarians and have been observed killing and eating meat). But perhaps it is also because they are so sexual in general (despite what certain blushing New Yorkers may say), ejaculating more regularly than their human or common chimp counterparts. Bonobo prostate health might also be due to the kind of P-Spot Massage we saw Junior self-administering.
From our bonobo cousins to my fraternal sibling, we zoomed up the traffic-free coast to picture-perfect La Jolla. I hadn’t seen my brother Steve and sister-in-law Tiya since my near-death experience when they were an integral part of the “Keep Suzy Alive” Team. This time, the shoe was on the other foot, so to speak, as my brother had severed his Achilles tendon in a recent encounter between it and a moving car. Not being able to walk on two feet is a great blow to my mountain-trekking, bridge-climbing brother. But the way Hop-A-Long-Steve was racing around on his crutches,he’s a shoe-in for the Three-Legged Olympics.
We hung out on their balcony with a surreally gorgeous view of the ocean (and the neighbors!), then hiked and hobbled around the coast, looking at cute rubber-bodied seals and pelicans and eating a delicious, mimosa-lubricated brunch at Brockton Villa Restaurant overlooking all the central La Jolla surf and turf action.
Holiday Therapy & NYE RadioSuzy1
The period between Xmas and New Year’s is always busy for the Telephone Sex Therapy wing of The Dr. Susan Block Institute, as our clients have time off from work and are often spend more time with their families, for better and for worse, which makes them feel the need to vent about it with our caring therapists. Incest fantasies are always high around holidays, and they are the specialty of one of our best new therapists, Nina Swiss. She and Verdi, one of our other top therapists, have been helping clients with crises of sex and spirituality as well as other holidazed cravings in these days of Saturnalian desire.
On New Year’s Eve, a bunch of us bonobos-in-residence here at the Speakeasy, Eric, James, Nina, Verdi, Brother Dave and I, gathered around the microphones of RadioSuzy1, by the healing light of our beautiful new Himalayan Ionic Salt Crystal Lamps and Candle-Holders, and did a good old-fashioned New Year’s Eve radio show. With the help of cheap but effective champagne and Emmanuel calling from Toronto, we toasted in 2008, prognosticating about everything from Family Values to Family Sex, Mmmooing and Mmmilking Cows, Sex in the Bidet, Sneak-Up Sex from Behind, Bondage, James Bond and Pussy Galore, with an emphasis on Pussy, with fireworks exploding on the streets outside the Speakeasy, or maybe it was gunfire.
We kept on talking after the show about the joys and insanities of telephone sex therapy and Speakeasy life, Then we all peeled off and my H and I welcomed 2008 with a few of our own fireworks, and the only guns we fired were the ones between our legs..