Length 01:18:15  Date: August 7, 2021

by Dr. Susan Block. 

Horses and humankind have had a close interlaced history since some equestrian pioneers in Ukraine and the Eurasian Steppe first “domesticated” (i.e., enslaved) the Equus ferus, transforming the wild horse into a beast of burden for human exploitation, transportation, farming, enhanced warfare and (on human terms) friendship some 6000 years ago. Horses were such an integral part of human life and *progress* that in the late 18^th century, the ubiquitous steam engine’s output was measured in terms of draft horses, called “horsepower” by Scottish engineer James Watts, and later expanded to include any type of piston engine, turbine, electric motor or other machine.

Between real Equus ferus caballus and Homo sapien machinery-out-of-control this Love Train gallops into the future at about 7000 horsepower. Choo-Choo!

Galloping Rockets & Burning Cars

Cars have 180-300 horsepower, a lot less than a train, but enough to do serious damage as we saw this week when a drunk driver crashed his SUV into a compact car at an intersection right outside of Bonoboville. It was horrific just to witness. At least one of the motorists was killed, and it wasn’t the drunk dude.

Word on the street is that the local police don’t bother to ticket speeding cars and drunk drivers enough to keep our city safe from vehicular horsepower-out-of-control. I guess they’re too busy “inspecting” innocent sexologists like me. Yes, we are in the process of responding to the unconstitutional, illegal police raid/panty raid of a couple weeks ago. At the scene of the accident, who do we see but one of the cops that frisked us! Gritting our teeth, we waved cordially.

Drunk-Driving Accident Outside Bonoboville. Photo: Author

Meanwhile, fancy Tesla electric cars (480 horsepower) are exploding like fire bombs in owners’ garages. People say the vaccines need more trials, but how about these wheels? Maybe this is what happens when you’re in a sperm wars space race and too busy to quality-control your main business…

Bezos’ Blue Origin B-3 engines generate one million horsepower powering the penis-headed mogul into 12 blissful and sky-high expensive minutes of suborbital atmosphere. Speaking of the Billionaire Dicks in Space Race, we review some reactions, including my dialogue with fellow Yalie Don Moloney in which I may have actually transformed his “pragmatic” thinking about wealth distribution… or at least made him bow to my bonoboësque radiance. Boola-Boola!

News Flash: A fascinating new Counterpunch article “Brazil, Amazon, World: Toxic Masculinity” by Jean Wyllys & Julie Wark links to my Billionaire Dicks in Space Race as an example of toxic masculinity… with extra horsepower!

It’s interesting to think about horsepower and how human attempts to outrun horses, outswim fish and outfly birds have essentially brought us to the *finish line* of climate catastrophe.

Abuse of Horsepower

Back to real horses, and just a few of the ways we humans enjoy, exploit and abuse them. The weird news of the day comes out of Boston, where 19-year-old Jackson Z. Kelley was arrested for violating a horse. No, he didn’t do it with a horse that’s “hung like a horse.” The victim was a mare, and yes, she was violated, though she’s okay now (guessing Mr. Kelley is not “hung like a horse” either), according to her “owners.” See why I identify these imprisoned nonhuman animals as just a step removed from slaves? They have owners…

Bathing in buckets of money can make a dirty dickhead even dirtier

As our Love Train moves though the meadows of the mind, Capt’n Max and I chat about the ancient relationships of humans and farm animals, as well as Greek mythology that conjured up the Centaur, the magnificent fantasy hybrid: half man, half horse and all libido.

But even the ancient Greeks wouldn’t defend Mr. Kelley’s crime. According to a tape and his confession, he harnessed and cross-tied the mare before raping her.  Yes, what he did was not *just* bestiality; it was also rape. Fantasy is one thing, but do not try this at home! Or in the stable. Reasonable people would agree that what Mr. Kelley did was wrong, illegal, unethical and, if you will, *inhumane.*

However, there are subtler forms of “Abuse of Horsepower” that humans who think of themselves as very humane commit without much thought. On the same day I stumbled upon the Boston Horse Rapist, I was dazzled by magnificent images of rock legend Bruce Springsteen’s equestrian daughter Jessica Springsteen, in fierce red, white and blue jockey regalia, riding her stallion Don Juan van de Donkhoeve (“Don Juan Donkeyballs?” asks Max) like an English Amazon. Not only does the “Boss’ Daughter” (literally) look fabulous, she also just won a silver Olympic medal with the American jumping team.

But how does Don Juan feel about racing in the Olympics? Is forcing a horse to race and jump like that also animal abuse? Fans joke that Springsteen is “Born to Jump,” and she’s obviously highly skilled and talented, but it’s Don Juan that’s being forced to carry his Mistress, race and jump the hurdles, beast of burden that he is, despite all the accolades and medals he probably doesn’t much enjoy.

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (Cowgirl-Style)!

I confess I enjoy horseback riding, and so does Max. Giving context, he tells the tragic story of his childhood girlfriend being thrown from a horse to her death. A horse threw me once, when my millionaire boyfriend (the horse’s “owner”) thought it would be “funny” to crack the whip, scaring the horse into throwing me. Thanks in part to me learning to land on my butt in Clowning Class, I was fine. Though I broke up with the millionaire soon after that, having learned an early lesson about how bathing in buckets of money can make a dirty dickhead even dirtier.

Speaking of horses, check out my more positive equestrian adventures in Afghanistan and true tales of sex on a horse in The Bonobo Way.

I’m pretty sure my sex-on-horseback days are numbered, but at least the Captain and I still have some kind of sex. Since we’re quasi-workaholics, we often take a break from work for sex, and for these “sex breaks” we use a bed, as we’re way too old to be doing it standing up, on a horse or even in the limo. We need to be comfortable! Is that a crime (our local police seem to think so)?

“Hot senior sex” is no crime (yet), nor is it even taboo anymore, but it’s probably not at the top of your Mainstream Media feed. So, we’re here to help. Even if you’re not a senior, one day (if you’re lucky), you will be, and you might remember the sex-life lessons you learned from F.D.R.

So, straight from the Horse’s Mouth (with XXXtra Horseradish!)…

We talk about the pleasure—like riding my cowboy, cowgirl-style, into bigger, more intense orgasms than ever. And we talk about the pain. Unfortunately, I don’t mean fun pain like spanking or massage. I mean changing sex positions when an abrupt flash of excruciating pain shoots down your lower back, or relaxing into the build-up to orgasm and suddenly getting a foot cramp and needing to jump up and down on it… before resuming.

It happens.

The important thing is to remember that “it happens” and to resume! Don’t get discouraged. Maybe you need to alter the angle or rest for a minute before resuming… Just don’t give up (unless you’re having a heart attack; in which case, call 911)! The orgasms and intimacy are worth the effort. And those sex heart attacks are much less likely if you have regular sex.

Horseplay

All that horseplay and sex talk makes us hungry to examine a luscious peach from the Bonoboville Garden that looks like a Georgia O’Keeffe vulva with a slit and a clit, though instead of a flower, it’s a fruit.

Pussy Peach & Apple Lover. Photo: Author

We match our pretty peach with a shiny apple sporting a similar sort of clitoral growth. Together, they’re lesbian pussyfruit. Mmm… juicy!

And hey, it’s almost Labia Day!

Speaking of sex, summer’s the sex party season! Once upon a time, I was the Life of the Party… when we had parties, which we don’t these days because… did you get the memo? The Coronapocalypse isn’t over, not even for vaccinated people like us who can still catch it from the unvaxxed and, though we probably won’t die—at least not as easily as the unvaxxed—we could get pretty fucking sick.

To give us a taste of that summer party spirit, this week’s throwback is the Last Show in the Old DTLA Speakeasy, a great big bacchanal of bacchanals featuring porn stars, comic, artists and realtors engaging in a communal sexual celebration the likes of which have never been experienced before and probably won’t ever happen again.

Don’t miss it!

Bucking Bronco Bombs Away!

There’s much more to this hot horsepowered show, straight from the horse’s mouth. Free Britney! Spear’s Daddy wins Celebrity Dickhead-of-the-Week for his over-the-top greedy dickheadedness. And Free Julian Assange. If he dies in Belmarsh prison, a large piece of journalistic freedom dies with him. The Dickhead here is the U.S. government (that means YOU, Joey!)

#GoBonobos for Congresswoman Cori Bush whose sleep-over on the steps of the Capitol (that we applauded last week) got its message across and successfully blocked the eviction of many desperate renters. It’s just temporary, but it’s a victory for F.D.R. (Fucking Da Rich!), though they should use some of those Congressional funds to help the smaller landlords (not the big corporations) who need the rent money to pay their mortgage.

We also regretfully commemorate the 76^th infamous anniversary of the U.S. dropping “Little Boy,” the first atomic bomb, on the Japanese city of Hiroshima, incinerating at least 200,000 people and devastating many more with radiation sickness and other ailments never seen before. We talk about how this most heinous of war crimes against civilians—sold to the American people and the world as the most humane solution to a “Good War”—was really a massively deadly PR stunt performed to intimidate Soviet Russia and, to some extent, the Chinese.

As a sexologist, I see these A and H Bombs as ammosexual evil to its Nth degree. U.S. President Harry S. Truman, whom I loathe as much as I like F.D.R., called Hiroshima an especially desirable “Virgin Target” for Little Boy, as the city had never been bombed.

Nauseating.

Da Big Bomb—mostly built by former Nazis, just like Doctor Strangelove (the climax of which has Major Kong riding Da Bomb like a Bucking Bronco, Cowboy-style)—was also a huge cover-up. Presented to the public as some sort of peace bomb to climactically end WWII, it actually started an international nuclear arms race that is still going strong, and can demolish us all in a flash of human arrogance or ignorance, or maybe an equipment malfunction.

What kind of crazy apes has our so-called civilization turned us into?

Our F.D.R. audience really resonates to this topic, reminding us of other U.S. bombing fests, such as Dresden and Vietnam. They may not have been nuclear, but death is death, whatever the horsepower, and there is no such thing as a “Good War.”

This is why we practice and preach The Bonobo Way of Peace through Pleasure. Make love, not war! Power to the Wild Horses (and the people who really care for them)!

© August 7, 2021 Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sex therapist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For speaking engagements, call 213-291-9497.