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Stoke travel's latest nudeletter, boozeletter and aftergrog blog
Sunday 31st March 2013 | Osh
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The motivations driving transnational embarkations are as varied as the destinations themselves. Voyagers range from the intrepid, for whom travel is an ordeal measured northward in degrees of tribulation, to the mundane, for whom the road is merely a stage and they are players whose roles are collecting souvenirs, usually photos, doilies and snow domes. Within this spectrum there are all types of travellers, from those who are motivated to wander by an extreme kink, perverts who travel to exercise their fringe sexual biases, “I just travel to get kicked in the nuts by Hindu prostitutes”, those whose motivations are more mundane, like following seasons, and those who go to places to find genetic pools that are particularly aesthetically pleasing to them. It is the latter carnal motivation that particularly motivates us and as such, will be the subject of this particular opus.
Yea, ‘tis true, some of us wander so that we might exchange bodily fluids with foreign strangers, preferably with one or more genitals acting as intermediary. Now this is to put it forth in the most puerile form possible, which is my prerogative as I am not going to waste our eye time with a Stella-Got-Her-Groove-Back-esque romanticisation of exotic eroticism global pursuit*. For me, while I’m young enough to look good naked, yet old enough to know that said looks are failing daily, the desire to sleep with people from as many countries as possible, or to “appropriate their flags”, is the primary motivation behind my going anywhere or indeed, doing anything.
But before the puritan crowd grabs their asexual pitchforks and forms a frustrated mob to try and run me out of their waiting for the right person/married to God/uncomfortable with the shape of their genitals village, let me clarify. Y’see all I’m doing is looking love, and while my way is definitely the scenic route, at the end of the day it’s as wholesome a pursuit as a church group encounter leading to a consummated marriage without ever having lived together, and sexually interspersed with perhaps some manual pleasure on special occasions and maybe one drunken attempt at anal - which is essentially impossible for a man and woman if you’ve never laid together in the conventional heterosexual sense.
So it is under the auspices of “looking for love” we roam the world; a clique that tries to get to know a place culturally, linguistically, and physically. My Ma always said that you never really know someone until you’ve dripped sweat all over them, so logically this carries over to knowing a place, and us flag hunters are a more advanced traveller than most of you, as we interact globally on a deeper, more penetrating level.
Obviously we don’t meet people under the guise of being friendly with them, only to befriend them and then spring my true lascivious intentions on them. This is by no means an endorsement to be creepy, excessively forward, nor a single minded overtly horny dirt bag. This is about being honest with your hormones and gregarious with your charms and forthright with your intentions; about getting out there and travelling the world. And if it all goes right you might enjoy the full box of chocolates and vanillas and eclairs and turkish delights (quite specific) and whatever the Baltic equivalent is and squid (Japan) and so on and sweet tooth and amen and wear condoms and remember to always be forthright with your intentions, but only when the moment is appropriate to do so, and never mess with people’s feelings and make sure you totally enjoy yourself, the world, its inhabitants and all three of you together in a Parisian loft.
Wade Gravy is a lunatic who has travelled with Stoke rather extensively and who we look to when we need disposable sex advice.
*How Stella Got Her Groove Back is about Stella, a vocationally successful urban African American woman who is unlucky in love. Her promiscuous friend Whoopi Goldberg, a dreadlocked Jew (last name), convinces her to vacation in the Caribbean, hijack a younger local stud, get him to invade her privates and consequently “get her groove back”. This occurs and Stella unexpectedly falls for the fella and they get married, or something, and move back to the states and live happily ever after.
This movie portrays female sex tourism as a more noble pursuit than its male counterpart as women are looking for, and consequently fall in, love, and as such has inspired countless ladies of affluence to travel to developing countries.
It’s a true story, and after the movie was made the inspiration for the main male character surprised the real life Stella by coming out as a homosexual and leaving her for a life of partners who know their way around a shaft and a nob, who are usually immaculately groomed and have an impeccable sense of dress and interior design.
