Well, I hadda say something.
It’s like this: I’m really the last person to condemn anybody for their sexual quirks. At some point, I’m pretty sure, I’ve worked with, befriended, messed around with, or otherwise socialized with at least one of every gender and sexual preference there is.
That I know of.
On this planet.
My point is, over the years I’ve learned to observe a lot, and not judge. Given an opportunity to frelk or yiff, or whatever, I’m usually game to try it at least once, like an unknown vegetable on the dinner plate. At other times, though, my reaction might be “Fine for other folks, but not for me.”
So, auto-erotic asphyxiation falls into this category. (You people who don’t understand why I’m writing about this topic, can catch up with the rest of us by clicking here.) I’ve been told there are ways of minimizing the risks. However, I’ve always considered it to be the sexual equivalent of running with scissors, or playing with handcuffs when you don’t know where the key is. It’s just too dangerous.
But by far, the biggest danger of this practice is that when people read your obituary, they go, “Umm…ew.”
