Anal: A Gift.

As a heterosexual female, raised in a Puritan-based society, it's rather plausible that I find anal sex repellant. Actually, coming from a Puritan-based society doesn't explain my love for giving blow jobs, but for the purposes of this, that will not be delved into.

There are all kinds of horror stories surrounding anal sex. If one has too much, their rectum will start to spill out. One will get feces all over one's dick. The anus will act as a vacuum, and one will be stuck in that oh so embarrassing position. Alex may steal one's soul if he gives it to one for the first time.

Not to mention all of the preparation one must go into. It gets rather expensive. Copious amounts of a water-based lubrication must be applied. If there will be a finger inserted into the anus, nails must be trimmed, as that inner skin is quite tender. Also, the receiver must be quite familiar with their anal cavity, as it bends in many unique ways all over human-kind. An enema is also recommended by some.

If one is to engage in anal sex regularly, it is recommended that they receive a full pelvic exam twice a year. Now, I know that with my medical insurance, I have to pay a $20 co-pay, and I'd much rather spend that on drugs. Some people don't even have medical insurance! Anal sex is going to drive people into poverty, and then that money will come out of my pocket, once they get in the welfare system. I don't pay taxes, but truly, that is beside the point.

Which brings me to the point that has been put beside: I would never have anal sex, unless Jude Law asked really nice.

It wouldn't be offered, no. But if Jude and I were in our apartment, making scrambled eggs and drinking Odwalla orange juice, and he asked in that dear sweet English way, "My dear Vanessa, I've been meaning to ask you for a long time: Can I put it in your bum?" I would be unable to decline.

I may try to be coy, and say, "Well, I'll have to discuss this with my doctor," but for realsies, he would be allowed to stick it in my bum until his lovely heart was contented.

There's one other person that could stick it in my butt as well: Robert De Niro when he was in Taxi Driver. Again, it wouldn't be offered, but if he asked, nice, I'd be all, "Sure, just don't cry and rub blood all over me and scream for Jodie Foster." Of course, this interaction would require a time machine, so it's not as much of a possibility, but still, it must be considered. I wouldn't let Bob do me in the butt in his current state, but we could go have lunch together. Maybe make out a little.

Vanessa Gilovich