How To Be Bad In Bed

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Don’t speak. Don’t communicate. Don’t even move a muscle. Just lie there and pretend like sex is a bear and if you move, the sex is going to eat you and a hunter’s going to have to cut you out. Pretend like you’re in a Werner Herzog movie. If someone tries to move you, pretend to be asleep or in a coma until they relent. If your partner attempts communication, do your best impression of Jodie Foster in Nell or reenact scenes from The Miracle Worker. Do the opposite of what they say. If they tell you slower, act like your dirty bits are a battering ram and that you’re trying to break down the door to their orifices. Pretend that you’re in Spike Jonze’s Being Ben Rothlisberger. Be the opposite of the person you wanted to be when you grew up. Be John Mayer. It’s every kid’s dream.

Make inappropriate noises at every possible moment. Don’t just fart. Start laughing for no reason or cry loudly for approximately three seconds. Then go back to what you were doing beforehand, as if absolutely nothing is wrong. Pretend it never happened. Do impressions. Start talking in your sexy Gollum voice, before you move onto your Scrooge McDuck material. Scrooge McDuck is sexy. Quote lines from your favorite Gunter Grass novel or suggest some in-sex viewing, like Schindler’s List or Hotel Rwanda. If they’re not into that, make them listen to the sweet sounds of Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music or put on a Skrillex sampler. Make them feel like they are inside a satanic washing machine of fucking or a Michael Bay movie. Same thing.

Then finish off by poking out their ear drums. They won’t want them anymore, anyway.

Bring pungent foods into the bedroom, like potato salad or garlic naan for the Chicken Vindaloo you’re going to soak off of their body. Don’t forget to bring the samosas. Don’t shower before or after — or ever really. Let your body odors ferment like a delicious block of cheese, one of the French ones that smell like a baby diaper. (The smellier, the better.) Throw over this scent your best baby prostitute cologne — something with the name of a brothel in the title — and call it layering. Then spray that with Axe, because if there’s anything that says “ready to mingle,” it’s the real-life equivalent of bro body douche. Make sure to do everything that Daniel Tosh says, just generally in life.

Wear clothing that hasn’t seen detergent in ages and underwear that doesn’t just have skidmarks on it. It’s got a ten-car pileup. Let your sex be ungulfed in the flames of squalor. Make sure your wardrobe reeks of existential despair. Nietzsche is a huge turn-on the bedroom. Feel free to read passages from his work as much and as often as possible or speak in a German accent. German truly is the sexiest language. Just ask Liz Lemon. Let her be your sexual spirit animal, a guide through the ways of carnal knowledge. Pretend you’re on 1-(900) OK-FACE. Release your inner Bijou.

Fake everything you do. Don’t just fake the orgasm. Fake blinking, hugging, cuddling and kissing — and kiss like you mean to be kissing whomever it is you’re doing it with in your head. Don’t make the other person feel like they’re the only girl in the room. Make them feel like one of many girls in the room, and the one you’re least attracted to. Comment on their body hair, physical appearance and fitness — and feel free to suggest improvements. Role play. Pretend that you’re Rex Reed and they’re Melissa McCarthy. Don’t just let the other person have it with your tumescent member or your quivering lips. Let them have it with your critical eye and most open judgments. Get British with it and do your Simon Cowell voice. Be vociferously arrogant, like your Uncle Morrissey. Everyone loves overt racism in bed.

Don’t just finish early. Finish before you’ve even started. Finish while they’re brushing their teeth or before they even come over. Finish before they even met you or while they thought the two of you were trading muffin recipes over the phone. Bring Freud into every possible interaction. Don’t reciprocate their needs. Reciprocate your own needs — by giving yourself a happy ending, because all that finishing early got you tired. Pretend that they don’t even have needs and that this is a one-some. If you don’t acknowledge someone else’s feelings, they’ll just go away. Feelings are like Paris Hilton that way. Your consciousness gives them power.

If it’s not great, blame them. Take no responsibility for yourself and suggest that you have a threesome next time. Who cares if they refuse? Pressure them anyway. Say something like, “You said we could do whatever we wanted, and I want a threesome. Clearly you didn’t mean what you said.” Repeat your behavior. Get them to do all kinds of things they don’t like. Go on Urban Dictionary and reenact every sexual term you find. Recreate tentacle erotica. Make “Two Girls One Cup” look like Mary Poppins. Or recreate Mary Poppins as a porno and make it really disgusting. Put the pop back in that Poppins.

And whatever you do, don’t call, send flowers, write, Instragram, MySpace message AIM chat or carrier pigeon. Make up some excuse like you’re still mourning the White Stripes breakup or that you’re allergic to talking. Make every future interaction as awkward as uncomfortable as possible, like a bit out of Modern Seinfeld. You are the master of your domain.

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