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What is with boys laughing because they ejaculated on to a girls face? Maybe I have seen too many Carnies have a pie thrown at their head, I don’t know, but there has to be a reason why the hilarity of the sexual act of aiming and firing is lost on me. I just don’t think that It is what Cupid had in mind when he picked up an arrow and said, “Look out!”
My Promiscuous Boy Friend, who I live vicariously through, emailed me a story about his latest conquest. I don’t know her name. I just know Them by days of the week or specific annual dates at this point.
“And then at the end, I came and it went STRAIGHT IN HER EYE,” he prefaced before an army of exclamation points.
“Why?” I Skyped him. “Why? Seriously, Why? Explain it to me. I want to know.”
“Because it is fucking funny.”
“Why? Why? Seriously, Why? Explain it to me. I want to know.”
“Because she didn’t see it coming!”

I once failed an exam because, instead of studying, I watched a YouTube video of a midget on roller stakes push a shopping cart full of kittens down a driveway. On repeat. For five hours. Laughing at completely ridiculous or, even, completely wrong things is not lost on me. When a real life human runs into a pole and falls down, and I am privy to its actuality, I laugh hysterically for six months. Actual comedians have the easiest job in the world if I am in the room. Just fart and I am done, gone, lost into a fit of giggles until someone dies. I can find, just about anything, funny. But, for some reason, a cum shot to the face is the sexual equivalent of Pauly Shore for me. Unassuming.

I have been called a prude twice in my life. One time it was after watching the porn documentary “Sex: The Annabel Chong Story” and I raised my eyebrow to her raising her legs for over two hundred men in a ten-hour time frame. I argued the insult thrown in my direction because, considering the subject matter of the film, I just didn’t see it coming. The other time, I had just watched a Miley Cyrus music video and objected to her objectification.
“What I would do to that girl…” my Boy Friend sighed.
“What? What? Seriously, what would you do to that seventeen year old girl?”
“I would give her a facial better than anything she would get in Beverly Hills.”
Fearing that my house was tapped by the federal police, I told Him to either leave or change the channel. I didn’t expect to have my own standards be brought into the debate. I argued the insult thrown in my direction and because I didn’t see it coming, I lost based on a technicality. Damn Taylor Lautner being underage.

As most of my friends are With Penis, I have been in the presence of just about every Morning After conversation one can imagine. And I indulge them all because there is nothing I laugh at more than, “I woke up and pointed to the general area of the bus stop.” But every single time a boy friend has ended the morning news with, “And then I came on her face,” I have had to ask, sorry, beg, “Why? Why did you have to do that?”
I am not a feminist in any way, shape or form (except for the fact that I am, well, a female in every way, shape and form) and so I have no problem with women being “objectified” in a general sense. I use quotation marks because I frequently argue the existence of objectification in any legal sexual act, as I just don’t think females are being negatively submissive if they allow for a boy to do something to them. If you’re a grown adult, you can made a choice. It is just a person with a fetish, in my opinion. I have no ethical problem with a concept, either. I don’t even think it as unnecessarily unhygienic. There are several other arguments against the act, but I don’t care to indulge them too much, because none of them answer my initial question. Power complexes, biology, superiority and instinct don’t explain,
“Why is ejaculating onto a girls face funny?”

Guys will never ask for directions when they are driving, so the fact that they care about the direction of their sperm is, possibly, the biggest joke of all. When I either verbally or physically forced a large percentage of the boys I know to justify the hilarity of the sex act to me, most of them could not give me an answer. Often they were too busy giggling like school girls because I had even raised the subject. “Because it is funny,” was, for a while, the best explanation I got. A close second was, “Because I can.” Which, I must admit, I laughed at.
Finally, another promiscuous boy friend, one who I used to keep in contact with just In Case Of Emergency until I realized he was nice, funny and smart, put me out of my misery.
“When you laugh at someone running into a pole, why do you think it is the best thing you have ever seen?”
“Because it is!”
“Why? Explain it to me.”
“Because…it is unexpected to them just as much as it is to me and their reaction is always priceless. Sometimes, they look like turtles who have fallen onto their back and can’t get up.”
I must admit, I started giggling.
“And that is why a cum shot to the eye is hilarious.”
“Oh.” Damn it. 
“The reaction is better than any facial expression any comedian could ever come up with. It isn’t funny because it is objectifying someone. That is wrong and disgusting. It is funny because it is unexpected and makes something so natural so completely unnatural. You laugh about people running into poles. The only difference between that and This is that one is a sexual act. Don’t have a double standard on politically incorrect hilarity.”
“Oh.”
I understood what he meant. I didn’t see that coming.