Participate in BanditoRadio’s Podcast, “Human Female Sexuality”, and win a prize! If you’re a sexually active (the more active the better) human female (or know one)

– no matter your proclivities (caveats below) -- I’m requesting an audio recording of your sexual release – in other words, I want to hear you coming, and possibly use it in the podcast. (I’m still working on how the podcast will go, but interviews with sexual “authorities,” “women on the street,” plus bizarre music and audio clips from movies and sound effects records will be in the mix. I’m also thinking of infiltrating a Sex Addicts Anonymous meeting; among other things I’m curious about how their Twelve Step Program works.)

RULES AND JUDGING PARAMETERS

Assuming there’s someone else involved, the recording must be made by consenting adults. No sneaky, hidden mic shit. (For readers of my last book: I know, I used to hide microphones everywhere, but that was different.)

On second thought: Go ahead with the hidden mic shit if you want. Just don’t tell me about it.

Although there are no separate categories per se, it occurs to me that there are three possible varieties of nookie-diddling scenarios -- I am, for now, ruling out group efforts. (Depending on how this goes I may add some sort of “Chorus” subcategory in future contests.)

1. Male/female.

2. Female/female

3. Female alone (possibly while thinking of me)

That’s it. No animals, be they livestock (sorry, Esteban), pets, or wild (although the mind boggles at the possibilities – see The Natural World video).

The reason for the no-animals rule is not my limited sensibilities or personal proclivities, but rather the impossibility of securing consent from the 2nd party involved. With livestock, for example, it’s difficult to interpret what frantic braying/mooing/lowing/ squealing means. Could be good, could be bad. (My favorite Orwell quote, “Four legs good, two legs bad”, applies here, I think.) Personally, my apparent enthusiasm does not automatically imply consent – when I was semi-raped by a Panamanian alpha whore because she didn’t like my attitude, someone listening at the door might have thought I was having a merry old time. With guys (especially in border town whorehouses) sometimes something twisted and weird will kick in.

Whining or howling dogs – if the judgment is made that the pet is merely an observer and not a participant – may be judged as a plus, especially if the canine racket is in harmony with the human-vocalizations (in my experience, this is usually the case).

I’m convinced that cats don’t give a shit about your sex life (or anything else about you), so a mewing feline sound may be judged to have been added later via a sound mixer. While I’m on the subject: Finalists’ tapes will be examined by experts for post production futzing/special effects (and 12 minute gaps). Later excuses like “The maid did it” or “The tape recorder got bumped in the luggage” will not only result in disqualification but in banishment from The Bandito Browser subscription list. (You know who you are here.)

The judges (mainly me) will base their (mainly mine) decision on the following loosely defined criteria:

Sheer volume will not cut it. My sound engineers will see to it that no matter how loud your bubbling cantillations, the volume broadcast to the multitudes will be within normal FM limits; say, NPR’s “All Things Considered.”

Be advised that extremely high pitched wails might be outside the frequency range of our present equipment. A related matter: Breath control counts. For example, if a long, ascending wail reaches a high register then suddenly seems to go silent, and your dog (or that of a neighbor) simultaneously starts howling, I will be inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt that your wail continued; to penalize you for our equipment limitations would be patently unfair.

Sounds not easily reproduced through the written word will be judged favorably. For example, the usual “Ah, ah, ah, ah” routine, no matter the enthusiasm, rhythm, pizzazz, or staccato-ness (“ah”s per second) put into it, will not garner as many points as, say, “Ugurah, ugurlemagah, ubugaaaadabadaaaa-ga-ga-blewee-da-wah!”

Sounds obviously not emanating from a human voice box – a barefoot walk on mud flats at low tide comes to mind – will be considered a part of your aural mix, and favorably so. For this reason, it might behoove you to record with two mics, one north, one south, so to speak.

“Dirty talk.” Okay. There are fine lines here and I don’t wish to place limits on your creativity, but complete sentences are in general discouraged and – for personal reasons – anything along the lines of “You’ve ruined me for other men!” will result in immediate disqualification. A sore point with me.

Sorry, but “Fuck me fuck me fuck me!” will likely result in point-deduction, unless some nonsense (say, “gogurlemagahtz!”) is somehow seamlessly worked in. One does get weary of even the sweetest of melodies.

In my view, invoking the deity’s name has a built-in catch-22 and hence is to be avoided: If you believe in God – and considering the state of this sorry ass world -- don’t you think He has more important matters to attend to than listening to your animal ravings? Along these lines: depending on your religion, you may even burn in hell for perpetrating the act you’re yodeling about. So maybe consider not calling attention to it by yelling out His name. Whereas: if you don’t believe in Him, why the fuck are you… you get the idea. (By the way, “Allah akbar!” will be cause for instant disqualification.)

The bottom line regarding dirty talk: The more creative it is – “thrust your throbbing blue veined blah blah blah!” --- the more suspicious I’ll be that something is awry; you’re supposed to be out of your mind with carnal bliss, not of literate bent or in the sort of mental state conducive to alliteration. Plus, if I sense that a prepared script is involved – instant disqualification.

Kinky stuff. More fine lines. The sounds of clinking chains, bullwhips cracking, or, especially, spanking – in the context of sexual rapture -- tend to make me giggle, which could negatively affect your point total. A word to the wise.

A sticky subject: In straight male/female shtupping, there is sure to be a male there. Problem is, the grunts and groans of some guy (who is not me) having sex is not what I want to hear. I just don’t. So if you’re in this to win it – as opposed to showing off – a word to the wise: best you stuff a sock or something in the guy’s mouth, or at least turn his head away from the mic.

A note on lesbian hosannas: I’m tempted to make this one a separate category, and may do so in future contests, for this reason: I’m looking for one winner, not a duo to share the honor and concomitant prizes. If there are two of you hooting, warbling, hymnodizing, bleating, scat singing, huzza-ing, screaming bloody murder, or what have you, in more or less equal exuberance, the issue will get confused. However, a little back up harmonizing, as long as it’s just that, i.e., back up, is encouraged.

Background music – a stereo playing, say, or, better, a live mariachi band on the premises -- will be judged as to thematic appropriateness to the flesh-pile tussle transpiring. However, anything by Barry Manilow or Johnny Mathis will likely result in point deduction, unless the intention is obviously irony-laden or meant as counterpoint. For example, Mathis crooning “Chances Are” while the bedroom furniture is apparently under violent destruction might garner an approving nod, plus an extra point or two.

On faking it. Go ahead, knock yourself out. My history in figuring out what’s real and what’s not with females is not stellar (see my latest book), so you’d definitely have a shot at making it to the final go-round – winners will be selected via votes cast by other BB subscribers (a jury of your peers). But as Abe Lincoln more or less said, “Babes can maybe fool Allan with their bullshit, and even fool some of his subscribers some of the time, but they can’t fool all of his subscribers all of the time.”

One more thing regarding faking it: Remember the orgasm scene from When Harry Met Sally? If that’s the best you can do, don’t bother. Christ.

EQUIPMENT AND SUBMISSIONS

If you don’t already have one, I suggest you purchase a digital recording device; I’ve got an Olympus VN-3100PC (less than $30), which holds 20 something hours -- God help you (and your mate) if you need more time than that to get off.

There is no running-time limit on submissions, so let ‘er rip. Be advised, though, that long periods of silence or the rustling of sheets (cuddling or whatnot) or, especially, “romantic” pillow talk may make me nauseas, with predictable results regarding your final point total.

By the way, the recording device will come in handy when you finally realize that your “significant other” is fucking around on you and evidence is needed, for divorce proceedings or to prove to mutual friends that you’re not delusional; that sort of thing. Just trust me on this.

Submissions can be made over the internet (in privacy) or by email attachment. (Again: for complete anonymity use a one-time email address.) Simply send your submissions to our podcast submission specialist, I.M. Cumming, via email at imcumming@banditobooks.com. Please compress the files into mp3s under 10 MB in size or they may not make it through the mail system.

Ground-mailed tapes are acceptable also. If you want them returned… forget it. You send ‘em, they’re mine forever. Bandito Books, P.O. Box 2057, Santa Cruz, CA 95063-2057.

Your recording will not be shared with anyone, apart from the general public.

A legal matter: All goes particularly well, a CD or possibly a feature film may result. You get zip.

I’ll need your email address (one-timer or not, I will keep it between us) and at least a first name (it need not be real). I may want to interview you, or, for that matter, meet you. (Photos are most welcome, if you get my drift.)

I’ll choose six finalists, whose efforts will be podcast on our show about female sexuality Trust me that it’s going to be a scream, so to speak. (Keep in mind that the podcast will include all kinds of stuff aside from the contest.)

Then Bandito Browser subscribers will vote on the grand prize winner and two runners up.

PRIZES

George Watson, owner of The Dock restaurant. George is neither gay nor homophobic. He's just nuts.

All six finalists will get a custom t-shirt, to be designed by a nutcase buddy of mine. The grand prize winner and first and second runners up will get copies of all three of my books, duly signed and inscribed with something weird.

The grand prize winner will also get a free dinner with me and a mob of my commercial fishermen friends at The Dock restaurant here at Montauk, plus drinking into the wee hours at the Liar’s Saloon (notable for its sea boots-and-slickers only dress code, and where I was once found face down in the parking lot at dawn). Be advised that the crew at Liars may expect a rendition of the performance that won you the grand prize.

If, for whatever reason, you wish to forgo the dinner and drinks, an alternate grand prize will be… devised. More to come on that. Lemme think about it.

If this goes well, I’ll be doing a podcast on Male Sexuality. Only fair. My heart won’t be in it, not like with this one, but I’ll do it.

If you fear your performance might result in lawsuits, irate boy-girl-friends, uninvited late night visitors from your local saloon or law enforcement personnel, or you are irrationally inhibited, please forward this page to someone with some guts and a better sense of humor.

One more thing:

Having written this section (the contest/podcast stuff) I did something I’ve never done before: worried about people thinking I’m an asshole (for the wrong reason). So I sent what you’ve just read to 20 or so females in my email address book; women I know, some well, some not so well. Asked a simple question: Is this funny or obnoxious?

It was a split decision, slightly in my favor. I got some “hysterical”s, words to that effect, one with a funny and very personal anecdote to go with it (had to do with high-pitched wails).

From an ex-girlfriend I got “Your mother would be ashamed.” Bringing Mom into it (rather than simply answering the question) bugged me but I let it slide, didn’t get rowdy. However, a couple days later, when my ex called me with the opening line, “What’s wrong with you?” and then, “I guess what they’re saying about you in The Hamptons is true,” I… went off.

And so forth. But the most potentially productive response came from a woman I don’t know well at all, and who read the stuff via a mutual friend. Call her Doris.

Doris opined that my podcast/contest piece was “creepy.” Also said the whole concept was “porn.”

Okay. Fair enough. Here’s the thing, though: I’d met Doris at a play she was in called The Vagina Monologues. Maybe you’re familiar with it: it’s by a woman, about women, and pretty much for women; men as a gender don’t come off well. In fact, it’s relentless in its negative stereotyping of men. I enjoyed it partially for this reason.

But here’s the good part for our purposes: Doris has one scene in the play – sitting on stage, her character has a prolonged, rip-roaring, yodeling, multiple orgasm.

No, I’m not making this up.

When I pointed out what I need not (I hope) point out here regarding a possible inconsistency in her attitude, Doris wrote this:

I was acting… I’m not into listening to other people’s sexual experiences – ergo ‘creepy.’

Here’s my reply (Doris had also vehemently denied that there is anything sexist about The Vagina Monologues):

i think there's a bit of a tautology going on here, on
your part -- the vagina monologues can't be sexist
simply because it isn't. but since i don't remember it
well enough to point out the (specific) sexism, i can't. (i
suspect we don't define "sexism" the same way, but the
stereotyping of men was rampant, as was the negativity.
this is sexism to me...)

Regarding Doris’s view that my podcast concept is “porn”:

and just so you know (i thought it was obvious from
the tone of my writing): this whole thing is meant for
a laugh, which pornography is not.

allan

I’ve ordered The Vagina Monologues (book) to refresh my memory on the specifics of its relentless negative stereotyping of men. I’m hoping things will get lively with Doris. I’ll get back to you on this.

In my relentless Web research, I came across this one.

After multiple viewings, the above caused me to reevaluate Doris’s The Vagina Monologues performance. My former thumbs up was now wavering.

I forwarded the site to Doris, asking for her take on it, whether it was “creepy” or “porn.” Got no reply.

But why am I bothering with this?

Because I believe that most of the evils of this world are based on the same basic human need that Doris is so busily involved in.

The need to feel good about oneself.

This can be a difficult job, mainly when facts are not cooperating: say, you yourself have done what you are now labeling “creepy” and “porn.”

What’s a guy/gal to do?

Just say, “That’s different!”

In other words, deny that the facts mean what they mean.

Denial.

But lighten up, why don’t I? What’s the harm in a little denial? Let Doris think whatever she wants.

The harm comes when institutions with power over human beings engage in the same pursuit. When countries do it, the result is mass misery and death.

Right: “We just want to spread democracy!”

What was that word Doris used? Means therefore?

"I’m not into listening to other people’s sexual experiences – ergo ‘creepy.’"

Ergo!

Ergo Doris is engaging in the same mental process that causes mass misery and death.

Read more about Doris and me, plus my politically incredibly incorrect review of The Vagina Monologues.

Whaddya think?

Air it out in the Forum

Forward this page (Pasting the URL into an email works well too)

And Subscribe. Otherwise you’ll miss out on everything.

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Excerpt: On Getting Raped by the Alpha Whore in a Panamanian Whorehouse The Un-Immaculate Conception