I knew quite a few men in my yoof who ran this danger:
A small Australian marsupial known as the antechinus shot to fame after the discovery of two new species five years ago, when scientists revealed how males every mating season are, quite literally, killing themselves by having too much sex.
During the brief breeding period, males ferociously copulate with as many females as possible, in violent sessions that can last upwards of 14 hours – and, their bodies deteriorate as a result.
In the animal kingdom, reproduction can be a dangerous and peculiar game.
Not just in the animal kingdom, Bubba. In humans, this circumstance is known as “Spring Break” where, as is the case for the antechinus, all that’s required is a multitude of willing female partners.
(If perchance you spot your daughter or [shudder] granddaughter in either of the above pics, I apologize sincerely.)
And for those callow young men who think this antechinal fate couldn’t possibly befall them, let me assure you: after a single bout of frantic lovemaking, you’ll be pleasantly sated; but after four such encounters with different partners, even over a whole weekend, you’ll feel like death would be a welcome respite.
So trust me: after fourteen partners on the trot, your internal (and for that matter external) organs, like that of antechinus, are going to resemble raw beef, eggs and carrots after a minute spent in a blender.
Don’t ask me how I know this. I still have the nightmares.
Back in the day our ship was scheduled to spend five or six days in Hong Kong. We’d come off 30 days on the gun line, shooting 5″ and 8″ shells at the bad guys and building up a thirst. Some of the old timers had visited the fleshpots of the old Crown Colony in the past and knew the good places in town. A couple of us were counting our money on the day before we hit port and talking about custom tailors, Nikon cameras, and high end reel to reel tape players – all signs of guys who made Westpac cruises in the late 60s and early 70s. One guy said “I’ve got $500 here. I’m going to spend $200 on whiskey, $200 on whores – and the rest, I’m going to spend foolishly.” His souvenir of Hong Kong was a dose. At least the docs could cure it back in those days.
I am reminded of a passage from The Incredible Voyage by Tristram Jones. The book is his memoir of setting the altitude record for sailing – by sailing on both the Dead Sea and Lake Titicaca. En route, he stopped over in Belem, Brazil – where one could “fuck yourself to death, free, gratis, and for nothing”.
There are some things you can explain until you’re blue in the face to a young man* and they won’t listen to a word you’ve said until after they’ve done it.
This is one of those things.
(*young man? I mean old men too)