Huh.
Apparently "Lesbian Bed Death" is somehow related to a rural area in what looks a lot like Nebraska. Of course, that photo could also be altered in some way, because I have always attributed LBD's (that is clinical terminology I'm using so that I can appear to know what I am talking about) origins to Broken Bovine, Oklahoma.
It could also be that I just made all of that up.
Anyway, as usual, I'm here to make fun of something serious and sensitive.
It's what I do.
My topic for today is a phenomenon known as "lesbian bed death."
This came up "accidentally" in a recent Facebook thread discussion I was somehow participating in...uninvited (I know, weird, right?).
This is actually a phenomenon that I didn't make up (even weirder).
You see, in 1983 a sociology researcher from the University of Washington (Dr. Pepper Schwartz...yes, really) wrote a book called "American Couples." She studied all kinds of couples...and her findings were that, after about two years, lesbian couples reported having the least amount of sexual intimacy of any kind of couple.
Of course she studied all kinds of couple characteristics, and her book wasn't specifically about lesbians at all...but this term she coined, and this particular finding, were largely the "break out" attention getters.
Of course, lesbians (because of our nature) immediately got out of bed (and off their girlfriends) to protest...claiming that her methodology was faulty. Her sampling method, her definition of terms such as "sexual intimacy," her unfortunate wardrobe choices, her haircut...all were called into question.
Now, you can rest assured that a bunch of sociologists (because of our nature) jumped on this bandwagon, and did lots more research into this pressing issue. Unfortunately, the findings have been largely replicated. Our community does seem to have some kind of real issue, here.
I could exhaustively go into the possible explanations that have been suggested as to a cause, but I don't want anybody going into a coma while reading this...so, I will refrain.
Suffice to say that a lot of the suggested associations have to do with male sexuality, sex drive, and the fact that lesbians don't generally wake up with a "woody" (Unless their dog is named "Woody").
Apparently our varying need for the extra time investments, and sometimes (but by no means necessarily) our desire to utilize equipment from Home Depot in our activities, MAY play a role.
NOTE: If you are a straight visitor to this blog, and would like additional information on the correct way that we use scaffolding and duct tape, please refer to the blog entry titled Lesbian Sex: Buckle Up and Wear a Helmet
Anyway, I personally think (but have never researched and have NO data for, because I hung up my academic cleats long ago) that it's also because women's brains work a little...uh...differently. I mean, guys are always complaining about how emotionally complicated women are...you know, how we can't seem to help ourselves...how we remember and hold onto things forever...
"So, you're upset...what's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong. I'm not upset. I'm....(insert scary music here)....FINE"
"But, you're holding a meat clever."
"Well...if you must know, it's that thing your grandmother did back in 1947. Plus, you loaded the dishwasher wrong...again."
AAAAAHHHH!!!!
It really gives "memory foam" a new meaning.
And, speaking of aardvarks (what?) a little interesting side note that applied to ALL couples in the study, and also pertains to my recent interest in the concept of (insert more scary music here) polyamory...a thing called the "Coolidge effect."
The name supposedly derived from a visit to a farm that President Coolidge and his wife made. They were being given separate tours of the facilities. Mrs. Coolidge was taken into the chicken yard, where one of the roosters was mating with everything that moved. Mrs. Coolidge asked the farmer if that happened a lot, and he answered "dozens of times each day." She told him to "tell that to the president when he comes by." So, the farmer did, and Mr. Coolidge asked, "Same hen every time?" The farmer replied, "Oh no, a different hen every time." The president's response? "Tell that to Mrs. Coolidge."
On that note, I'll close this post...right after I point out that there is actually a band called "Lesbian Bed Death."
They look VERY interesting, but I'm not sure I want to listen.
What if there are subliminal messages? I'm scared.
Hmmm....now I'm scared!
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