… unless I’m being ironic. If I do end up with it, I’m going to buy it secondhand because the author is a born again moron embellisher with anti-me politics, so I don’t want her getting a red cent.
Anyway, the book is The Thrill of the Chaste : Finding Fulfillment While Keeping Your Clothes On. I hear the working title was You’re Going to Hell, Slut!
Finally, a book for single women who, unsatisfied with living a worldly lifestyle, want to give their lives a new and godly direction. Author Dawn Eden, a Jewish-born rock journalist turned salty Christian blog queen, gives these readers the positive and uplifting message that they’ve been wanting to hear-that spiritual healing and a renewed outlook await them. Using her own experiences in the New York City singles jungle, she shows women how they too can go from insecurity to purity, and from forlorn to reborn. She tells women who have been around the block how to find their way home.
Hah! Oh, there are so many awesome things about this book! The self-hatred. The superiority complex. The misogyny. The ignorance. The repression (and furtherance of repression). The submissiveness. The utter bullshit.
I now notice things about the men in my life that I never noticed before, like their thoughtfulness, their love of family, their integrity, even their vulnerability. These are intangible qualities that don’t jump out at you when you’re in a frame of mind where you’re viewing men only as potential dates. Put together, they add up to character. It’s the most important quality to seek in a husband, and the one that’s least discussed in this day and age.
Likewise, when you become chaste, you’ll notice for the first time that women who have sex outside of marriage don’t really appreciate men. You can’t see this when you’re having nonmarital sex, because you don’t realize how much there really is about men to appreciate. You think the mere fact that you’re attracted to them and that they seem to wield such power over you shows you appreciate them for what they really are.
As much as I like to be thought of as a dominant walking cock, I don’t really captures the true me. Well, OK, it does, but not the whole me. I was not aware that the minute my cock is inserted in the woman’s vagina, I become invisible to her… except for the cock part.
When I had nonmarital sex, I became accustomed to seeing myself as a commodity—a varied collection of looks, wit, intellect, and je ne sais quois. I looked for men whose commodities were worth as much as my own.
That’s because you were a groupie, Dawn. Your lack of self-esteem combined with your narcissism led you to seek out others just like you, so you could magnify your neuroses.
That you now choose to blame your feelings of emptiness and worthlessness on sex is your own damn problem. Instead of coming to the conclusion that the massive amounts of ass you were getting left you unfulfilled because it turns out you weren’t looking for physical closeness, you decided that the sex itself was what was making you feel worthless. Also, that raging case of herpes which you totally don’t have. At the very least, don’t project your own neuroses onto the rest of the world because, frankly, we left your sex-negative ignorant asses behind in the 16th century.
Enjoy those revirgin vagina treatments or whatever hackery you’re going to promote next.
Also, as a tip, you might have better luck finding a husband if you didn’t seem so damn desperate. Just trying to help.
