Wonkette
As bait goes, this one’s too easy, and we think that celebrated marijuana pundit Andrew Sullivan knows that, but nevertheless: “I recall one marathon twelve-hour session of passion many years ago now. It was only afterwards that I realized I had barely had a single trace of an analytic thought for the longest period I could then remember. I was never happier. As I finally collapsed into my lover’s arms with the final orgasm that drained every last drop of desire or need from my body and soul, I understood for the first time why the French call coming ‘le petit mort.’” You’re welcome! [Andrew Sullivan]
Fucking ewww.
I hate you Jim Newell. I’m going to go vomit coffee now.
Now I have to go and bleach my brain for a couple of hours. Thanks a whole bunch.
No, thank YOU Mr. Newell.
What a delightful tale!
The good news is, my glaucoma is cured. The bad news is, I have clawed my eyes out.
It was only afterwards that I realized I had barely had a single trace of an analytic thought for the longest period I could then remember.
So, obviously, this happened pre-9/11. I think he went for three years without an analytical tought after that.
Penis.
So, Sully doesn’t really like thinking? Or he just prefers a little death?
As opposed to Le Grande Mort, which is not nearly as much fun.
*warning, ‘coming’ post follows* It apparently took him a specific sexual experience for him to realize coming was pleasurable. I knew coming was pleasurable before I could come.
It was only afterwards that I realized I had barely had a single trace of an analytic thought for the longest period I could then remember.
He doesn’t read his own column, does he?
“When I finally awoke, my lover was gone, but scrawled on the bathroom mirror was the simple message, ‘Welcome to the world of AIDS.’”
Hmm, that might be too close to reality to make for a good joke.
That’s all well and good, that Sully somehow invented bareback tantric buttsecks, until it’s revealed that it was with an intern. Then all bets are off.
And really, who hasn’t had a twelve-hour marathon sexy-time session? Don’t tell me it was memorable for the rational thought and attendant analysis.
A Midsummer Night’s Ream.
Also, ugh.
I call shenanigans on that, Mr Sullivan, and I also think I’m going to sue for permanent psychic scarring.
“I finally collapsed into my lover’s arms with the final orgasm that drained every last drop of desire or need from my body and soul”
I so have PTSD now.
The ordeal of consciousness is at times oppressive. No–not a quote from skoalrebel; it’s from Sully!
JEBUS WONKETTE, WTF.
Meth is a hell of a drug.
Psycgirl’s description of the side-effects of DNA replication errors is more titillating than this. More likely to be true, too.
One of the reasons I love Sully. His insistence that he’s still a conservative seems now like some kind of smirky, subversive bullying of the rightwing. It’s like he keeps try to scrunch closer to them on the bench and they all move away a few inches in disgust.
Meth is a helluva drug.
Barbara Cartland - bewbies + body hair = Andrew Sullivan
I really have no desire to look it up again but, um, wouldn’t Sully be the one getting boned? I thought he was a bottom.
What those poor beagles of his have to put up with…
Death is deminine, so it’s “la petite mort” jackass.
And I think that if this dude is getting banged for twelve hours, odds are it should read “lovers’ arms” as well.
Now I see that his Mary Jane leaf/bait is, in fact, strategically placed.
And really, Wonketters…you’re always on and on about the buttseks, and when you get it, in glorious detail, you’re all ewww. Ingrates and pussies.
Perhaps it wasn’t really twelve hours at all, but only less than sixty seconds. The clock hadn’t moved at all.
And now I don’t like sex anymore. THX.
Jesus H. Christ when I was a boy a man would just say Liefde Baart Kunst and let it go at that. No wonder there are no more great paintings.
Sweet Jesus, no. I did not need to know that.
“But I know nothing that God has given us - save psilocybin - that gives us this divine, if fleeting, parole from a vale of tears.”
I’m betting my stack that his unnamed partner in this bumping of uglies was David Crosby.
This will really endear him to the Teabaggers. Whoops, wrong set of Teabaggers!
tiny mexican: Teh gayz never switch it up, ever. Positional preference is SET IN STONE. Q.E.D., this story is a fagrication.
Sully amazes me. My hand always cramps up by hour three.
Fucking French, and their poetic language.
“I understood for the first time why the French call coming ‘le petit mort.’” That was the noose closing your windpipe, lunkhead.
taylormattd: I’ll bet little Jimmy Newell was the kind of kid who would blow his nose into a tissue and then show the big mess of bloody boogers to all his friends, “Hey! Look at THIS!”
Sully, for that matter, too.
The many pay for the ginger jokes of the few.
I’m impressed with all these deep thoughts, because I kept thinking
“OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH”. What a penetrating expose (cannot be bothered with accent mark).
“And too soon our excursion was at its end and it was time for us to leave our Greek salior’s behind.”
“La Grande Puke’” TMI Sully also.
magic titty: Film title WIN.
dementor: I dig the “Smokey the Bear hat”, too. Wait, smokey? BEAR? Haha, I just got it. (Laurie, you = funny!)
“… this fucking brain in my head, that won’t stop constantly analyzing and thinking.”
It’s a curse which only the chosen must endure.
Vulpes82: That’s called puppy love; love is deeper than that; friendship is deeper still. And by deep I mean, well, deep in the Biblical sense.
I understood for the first time why the French call coming ‘le petit mort.’”
Andrew Sullivan boned Mort Zuckerman? You’d think he’d get a bigger P-Town cottage out of it.
Oh sure, no fat jokes but people get to make fun of teh buttsex all they want! I demand a zero-tolerance policy for comments of a certain strain regarding Andrew Sullivan’s ass-romping!
And the above story folks, is why I walked out of earshot when my gay friends would start going into detail…
“… that gives us this divine, if fleeting, parole from a vale of tears.”
At last! Lady de Nooningville now has a consort, Dame Andrew of Sullington … on the Colon.
“And then I fisted a tree, as captured in the lovely drawing above.”
I can’t quit you baby! 11 hours more!!
bynrdskynrd: Oh jesus, you think that is going into detail?
Anyway . . . Andrew Sullivan, thank you for dislodging those images of Dave Letterman banging the interns from my mind.
What the fuck did we do to you to deserve this, Mr. Newell?
And now I had a non-fleeting thought that’s disgusting, hilarious, and appropriate: SANTORUM!
trondant: Good one!
That wording sounds familiar. I think I fucked that guy at a gay furry club in Second Life.
Crank Tango: We really need to be able to vote comments up, yours is so awesome. Doesn’t he have an editor or something? I thought professional bloggers would be held to a higher standard. Or any standard.
COOL STORY BRO!!
Thank you, Andrew. Thank you.
I thought I was bisexual in college, but I was only half in Ernest.
wheelie: I have to protect what little of my masculine heterosexuality that I have left, since the last girl I saw emasculated me enough to put the toilet seat up…
Crank Tango: I think the clue we are supposed to derive from this misspelling is that the lover’s name was Arthur. (Or maybe Morte.)
Thanks, Newell. You turned me off of lunch. forever.
That was kind of gay
bynrdskynrd: Ah, but enough to put it down again afterwards? That is the real test of a well-trained man.
YesWeKant: Oh hell no… I’m not giving Sullivan that much fucking credit. I don’t even like giving him props for having the audacity to include “fucking” twice in the same paragraph… I think The AP Style Guide may wish to rap his hands for that goof, already.
But at least he’s gotten laid. for twelve hours. And apparently is just soliciting for yet another frot-session, since writing about sex is so 90’s.
SayItWithWookies: Excellent!
Then I passed my can of wintergreen Grizz to Sting.
He likes doggies, too!
http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/the_daily_dish/2009/10/yes-that-was-a-beagle.html
Picturing Sully’s power bottom to Jeff Gannon’s power top–there goes breakfast!
Crank Tango: and by “deminine,” I of course meant “feminine.”
rev_matt_y: the problem child:
Or now that I think of it, maybe he really did mean “le petit mort,” meaning a small dead male.
Is this retaliation for the McCabe comments? Because I’m the innocent bystander.
TWELVE AND A HALF HOURS, ALAN!!!
And after twelve hours, Lindsay Graham’s asshole felt like a sore throat
I feel so dirty.
Burn the internet and salt the ground so that nothing can grow.
I could not read it, I just could not go on, I barely got past the quoted paragraph and got to the part about sex incarnating god and that during sex one is BOTH the most animal, and the most god-like, no, at that point, I was through. I would rather read Palin’s book than this variety of ignorant and illiterate attempt at a philosophical essay. Freshman level work here, oh my god, the pretension, the stupidity, the smug, the pomposity.
Sully likens the sex to some kind of quasi spiritual experience. Can we just let fucking be fucking, and leave the deep, greater-meaning-of-life shit to the asexual Catholic priesthood?
12 hours of pumping HIV into somebody? I think that’s more like ‘le grande mort.’
I concur: ew…
Methinsk Sully might benefit from a visit to a world-class analrapist.
Jesus I can’t believe I kept reading that. Oh fuck that is too much for Monday Jim.
imissopus: “And then I fisted a tree, AS WELL AS MYSELF, as captured in the lovely drawing above.”
Fixed.
RoscoePColtraine: Obviously you don’t know much about Catholic priests…
the funny thing is that this selection was part of a Sullivan Essay on the economics of cap-and-trade. I guess it must be related to the “emission control” portion of the piece.
So back in January it was “Oh, Sully. My hero. You are the best pilot EVER.” Now he’s some sort of pin-up boy for the Castro crowd? Wonkette is a fickle mistress.
Triple icky.
Methinks Sully is bragging a bit much. Like 11 hours and 55 minutes too much.
bureaucrap: In this context it’s “cap OR trade.”
HELPFUL HINT: If you are traumatized by detailed thoughts of Andrew Sullivan banging some guy for 12 hours, just imagine “Yakety Sax” playing in the background the whole time.
‘le petit mort.’ = coming down from a meth-fueled fuck session. When the french say it, it sounds klassy.
As in Fight Club, the camera pans back and Sully is alone in his room. Also as in Fight Club, DO NOT TALK ABOUT THIS!
Dave J.: Yeah. That helps. Thanks.
OMG! LOL
V572625694: That almost supplanted my previous image of him. Almost.
Meh…gay sex stories are always more interesting when they involve lipstick lesbians and vegetables…or is that just me?
TMI !!!!!
Also, I have to ask. when did wonketteers become so squeamish about a little assfucking? What a bunch of closet cases.
AbstinenceOnly Ed: Gives a whole different meaning to “tongue in groove.”
digibal235: hahahaha cuz yer a douche.
RoscoePColtraine: The Catholic Church: We Alter Boys, Some of Whom Grow Up to be Andrew Sullivan
Too. Much. Information.
proudgrampa: Too. Much. Penetration.
RoscoePColtraine: not tongue in cheek?
queeraselvis v 2.0: Yeah, remember that Sting-has-sex-for-eight-hours thing from years back? It was all just some kind of Bob Geldorf joke.
Andrew Sullivan just wants to get mentioned in a Boomtown Rats reunion song.
digibal235: Wow. Just wow. Dick.
I thought they called it “le petite mortimer” because I die a little bit every time I have to imagine pundits having sex.
PsycGirl: I was a-feared tonuge in cheek might be taken to mean the ones on your face. HA! I played straight man, for once. Thanks for hitting the ball PsycGirl!
I only hope the “guy” was Bill Krystol.
And so does Bill.
Next week: parents of 12-year-old boy file rape complaint against columnist; columnist takes temporary hiatus to be with his family of beagles.
Next month: parents of 12-year-old beagle file rape complaint against columnist.
Tree fiddy says Sully’s partner left after hour 1, got a sandwich, and returned at hour 11, no one the wiser.
AnnieGetYourFun: Too soon? Jesus. It’s like a guy can’t make an AIDS joke anymore.
Sigh.
I guess Sully’s political porn writing career isn’t working out, so he’s trying sex porn fiction.
Don’t call us, Sully baby, we’ll call you…
Gopherit: Its not the assfucking, dude, its the prose and the religio-philosophizing and the narcissism and the pomposity and the just intolerable Sullivanity of it all. Assfucking, I’ll read about that all day.
What goes on in those highway secenic overlook stops, anyway, where there’s always lots of cars sitting there with a dude in the car, like they’re waiting for something?
digibal235: Hey, I have no problem with AIDS jokes. If they’re funny. Trouble is, so few of ‘em are. We all misfire our snark pistols from time to time.
12 hours of fucking?! So that’s why these people call themselves gay.
PsycGirl: Now that is just sick.
Prommie: agreed. It’s the wonketeers who get squicked about the assfucking that bother me. It’s like we’ve forgotten our roots.
And Sully couldn’t fuck for 12 minutes without wheezing, so whatever.
bynrdskynrd: Sort of like the way I walk away when Roseann Barr, or skoalrebel start talking about bumping uglies? Straights can bring the gross, too, my friend.
RoscoePColtraine: I think we can all agree that whenever gross people get it on, that is gross. Also olds. Olds getting it on is gross too. Sorry olds.
Prommie: +1. My thoughts exactly. The fact that anyone would want to engage in assfucking this pompous limey turd is what is so disturbing. Not the assfucking itself, which — of course — is a beautiful expression of love.
V572625694: I especially loved the image of Sullivan pratfalling on black ooze. I bet it wasn’t the first time. And, again, those poor, poor beagles.
I don’t want to go all “I know French and you don’t” on you all but, well I know French. The French call orgasm “la petite mort”, the little death. But “le petit mort” actually translate to “the little dead guy” so I guess those twelve hours really had ill effects on the guy Sullivan was screwing.
jojoT: You’re assuming the little guy Sully was giving it to was alive to begin with.
Chick, Wonkette. Dudes bone chicks.
Can you imagine what a Sullivan cum-face might look like? A bull-dog chewing a wasp? A shaved bear trying to excrete a 5lb “poo”?
It really is a disturbing and powerful image.
aleks: The kind-but-stern men with wandering hands at Refuge lied to you.
Oh right.
Like any of you people haven’t had something shoved in and out of your ass for 12 hours, no breaks.
And if he was on meth 12 hours would be foreplay, bitches.
jojoT: Now, when they actually say it, you know, all rapid like (esp. in Paris…boy is that another story!), isn’t it difficult to tell if the speaker is referring to orgasm vs a dead person, specifically a small dead male? Pardon me, but the French language is soooo inferior to our English, which is never so easy to confuse.
RoscoePColtraine: “Sort of like the way I walk away when Roseann Barr, or skoalrebel start talking about bumping uglies? Straights can bring the gross, too, my friend.”
Word. Word. Word.
Keep smoking them out of the woodpile, Wonkette!
This is surprisingly similar to Charlie Murphy’s stand-up bit about his orgy and the deflated testical incident.
Oh, la petite mort–and all this while I thought the French had been calling it le petit mal. Thanks, Sully–your 12-hour vacation from anal-ytic thought was worth it after all.
digibal235: You deserve pain, and suffering and anguish.
This is not helping the legalization movement.
Oh yeah, it’s all fun and games until the impacted bowels get yah.
I’m with Dave Chapelle. Nuttin’ against da ghey, but buttsecks is gross.
Crank Tango: We just don’t share the details with THE ENTIRE FREAKIN’ PLANET!
proudgrampa: The fuck y’all don’t.
You can’t hardly read a news site anymore or watch tv without teh str8s talking about pussy and tits and whatever. Damn near every HBO series I ever watched was 40% teh str8 sects. Primetime tv today is like what XXX “stag films” of the 70s were.
Ya don’t “share details”. Shyt. You all CRAVE to tell the details.
Atlas Spanked: I’m cool with folks being grossed out with buttsecks. Dif’rent strokes and all that, but, just let me state for the record, you don’t fuck somebody in the bowels.
NopantsMcGee: ahahaha I think proudgrampa meant that as an old, not as a str8.
aleks: Wow. That’s deep man. Piss off now.
Today, we are all dancing bananas with “PENIS” signs.
le barf?
tiny mexican: Yes, Sully is a bottom. Once on the Bill Maher show, he said that his “husband” kept his ego in check. That would make Sully the uh,”wife.” Maher and his other guests just looked at Sully when he said that. Then they wisely changed the subject.
Aurelio: I don’t think that’s quite how the nomenclature works in same-sex households. In fact, the whole point of a male homosexual household is not to have a, uh, “wife.”
“So messy!”
What, no one took this one yet?
Oh GOD, JIM, you are horrible! I did not want to ever think about Andrew fucking sullival As I collapsing on anyone’s arms with final orgasm. I should just shoot myself now.
Wait a minute. The guy said “12 hours of passion” that ended with an orgasm. They could have been at a bluegrass festival comparing tattooes and chewin’ the Skoal. but probably not.
Bragging about a craigslist PnP hookup…Classy, Andrew.
jojoT: how do you know he wasn’t dead to begin with?
I’d just like to add my Fuck You to the chorus. There it is.
Prommie: Second this. Though, I add that, for me, this is TMI regardless of whether one is gay or straight for what’s supposed to be a social/political blog. It’s like he’s braggin (like always), and it just turns everything else off. And, if by 12 hours he meant 11 hours, 58 minutes of foreplay/dirty talk and 2 minutes of fucking, yeah; he had “12″ hours of passion.
at least he spelled it right in french
I think