I kinda sorta think that this tale has been told already, but fuck it - go ahead and fire me. Oh wait, you already did! Boo hoo. 

Contact deets at the end...

Zeitgeisty, on more than one occasion, has talked about some women being bad in bed. I’ve definitely experienced ordinary sex and uninspired sex, but other than a few teenage trysts that weren't very satisfactory, I can't say that I have had bad sex. Thank whomever the fuck you thank for things like that. Except for one awful time in 1999 when I first Internet dated. We'd gone out a few times, and got very very drunk on the last date (our third I think) and wound up at my apartment.

That night, we fell asleep in a drunken stupor, but had perfunctory sex the following morning. To quote a friend of mine "It would've been rude not to". I remember thinking "this has to get better", but I had been wrong before, wrong since and boy-oh-boy was I wrong then.

This man kissed really well. I had high expectations for him physically, although mixed feelings about him in general. The main misgiving was that he’d assumed a nickname as his “real” name that had been derived from a spelling mistake in 5th grade and involved an X at then end. It must’ve been killer funny aged 10, but at aged 30 it did seem a little inappropriate.

But that, I could’ve worked with.

However, there were deal breakers to be revealed: the man had an incredibly small penis.

The smallest I have ever encountered before or since. I didn’t notice when we were rolling around drunk, but in the morning as we lay against each other, I couldn’t feel anything. I kept thinking “it must be there somewhere!” and “maybe he takes a while to get a hard on”, but in fact it was already erect and simply very very tiny. If you’re thinking that I don’t sound like an active participant, let me confess that this was not the norm for me as I am not usually shy about grabbing the dick of a man I am in bed with, but in this instance I couldn’t bear to. Deep down, I knew the truth, but acceptance had not arrived and I wasn't prepared to rush it. Had I not been hungover and, therefore, my wits were more about me, I would have declined sex with the first fumble. But my addled brain coupled with my ludicrous tendency towards optimism and a – back then – not insignificant knack for denial enabled me to keep my hands out of his pants lest the sad imagined truth became an even sadder reality.

I won't regale you with any more gory details, but suffice it to say that it's inadvisable to try to put a shine on certain parts of the female anatomy however much you think it is desirable to do so. It's a clitoris, not a brace door knocker. About 10 minutes in, I decided that there was no point offering gentle instruction as you can't make a silk purse from a sows ear. I am not entirely comfortable with that idiom though... so I let him move on top of me and, to the extent that he could, knock himself out. Usually, one can say pounded, or banged, nailed or some such. In this instance, it would be kind to say poked.

He pricked me. Just.

I've had lovers that were fabulous at some things, ok at others, but certainly not terrible at anything. I feel confident that the same would be said of me. Especially the fabulous bit. So, like any other skill set, with each lover there were things that were played up and things that were played down.

This man was bad with his hands, nothing special when going down and terrible at penetration. The experience left me frustrated and wishing that rather than fuck him when we woke up together the next morning, I’d just made him a nice cup of tea and sent him on his way.

So, here are my questions...

1) Which is worse - bad sex or no sex? Or is there a sex/time/quality ratio? Like, after 3 months without, I have to get me some, even if it's crap. Or, after 3 months, I am only accepting good.

2) What, in your not-very-humble opinion, constitutes bad sex? Be demure, or be explicit. There will be a prize for the best analogy though.

This will - hopefully - be a broadcast brought to you by the Good Sex 2009 Party.

Thank you.

(And if you are reading this, man that worked for MTV back in ’99 and had a made up name ending in the letter X, I apologise)

Boo hoo. Very sad that we're being shit canned. If anyone wants to be in touch with me, I've just created my very own get in touch with airheadgenius email: airheadgenius@hotmail.com. Feel free to send job offers, paypal account info, writing gigs, food parcels, dick photos, whatever you like really. And I used to have an airheadgenius blogspot blog which I shut down, but no doubt it will be back up and running in a few.

Instead of the Daily Knob, here's a song for you: