Why Didn’t Someone Warn Me About Spaghetti Sex?
This should have Italians screaming bloody murder.
“Everything you see I owe to spaghetti.” Sophia Loren
If you’ve ever “dropped spaghetti,” you know it’s pretty awkward. Not as awkward as Spaghetti Noodle Syndrome, which is typically in your head and resolved with any number of blue pills. Dropping spaghetti, on the other hand, can’t be resolved with little blue pills. It’s defined as an embarrassing or awkward situation usually associated with sex. It doesn’t preclude Spaghetti Noodle Syndrome, but it’s more often associated with being drunk.
Drunk people usually have embarrassing moments during sex. There’s even a deity known as the Flying Spaghetti Monster, who supposedly created the world while drunk. It’s possible he was “dropping spaghetti” all over the place because first he created a midget, then a buxom wench. According to Pastafarians (followers of the Flying Spaghetti Monster), we all come from a midget getting it on with a buxom wench, which seems perfectly logical if you’ve ever walked around Dayton, Ohio.
According to Pastafarians (followers of the Flying Spaghetti Monster), we all come from a midget getting it on with a buxom wench, which seems perfectly logical if you’ve ever walked around Dayton, Ohio.
More disturbing, though, is a picture on Tumblr of a condom stuffed with spaghetti, lying on a bed. No explanation was given, but it went viral, with one commentator claiming it’s a Pastafarian totem. This was refuted by someone else who wrote “It’s a fucking condom with spaghetti. Isn’t it obvious?”
Well, a picture of a stockinged foot in a bowl of spaghetti seems pretty obvious, too, but what do I know? I’m still getting over Sophia Loren claiming her body is a result of eating spaghetti. I’ve known people who’ve been eating pasta for years and they look like Mario Batali.
It seems “spaghetti sex” is all the rage right now, possibly because a significant number of us are getting drunk while having sex. A more logical explanation, however, is that we’re looking for new outlets. Sex can’t be just sex anymore. Adding spaghetti is somehow better since it’s a cheap food source, and you can usually make it while opening a few cans of Budweiser.
If you need something more enticing, look no further than the Sexbomb Girls’ “Spaghetti Song.” The lyrics lose something in translation, with one line saying the song is for “older peeps who don’t have arthritis.”
Sex can’t be just sex anymore. Adding spaghetti is somehow better since it’s a cheap food source, and you can usually make it while opening a few cans of Budweiser.
You’re encouraged to dance along, doing the “spaghetti dance.” This is a provocative technique where dancers show each other how they have sex. Most of the moves look like they’re just eating spaghetti. Others look like they’re drinking Budweisers. So, what else is new?
Perhaps all this “spaghetti sex” can best be explained by Bill and Pam Farrel’s book: “Men are Like Waffles, Women Are Like Spaghetti,” an attempt, it seems to reduce the two sexes to food groups.
Clever as the title sounds, the book is serious stuff, explaining how men and women aren’t cosmic mistakes. We’re different because our differences make us want to understand each other. Either that, or we want to avoid each other. Bill and Pam don’t believe that for one second, though. They think we’re joined at the hip as psychological opposites, the same as the Earth has two opposing poles. We need both, even if, like sex, it confuses the hell out of us.
Our differences are clearly defined, it seems, not just by sex, but how we go through life when we’re not thinking about sex. It’s the mundane activities of life that define our genders. Waffles, for instance, define men because men like to compartmentalize. They start and finish one job. Women, on the other hand, throw everything into a pile like, well, spaghetti.
Women want to do ten things at once, since each has to get done, and you can’t depend on a man, ’cause he’s too busy with one job.
As Pam and Bill explained, when you stare at a bowl of pasta (which we all do, obviously), we see a jumble. Each strand wraps around another strand and everything touches everything else. In other words, multi-tasking. Women want to do ten things at once, since each has to get done, and you can’t depend on a man, ’cause he’s too busy doing one job.
Well, it does give a pat answer to everything — except spaghetti ends up in a lot of porn videos while waffles don’t.
In an attempt to understand this better, I viewed a number of food-related porn videos, figuring a spaghetti-stuffed condom would show up eventually. Unfortunately, most of the scenes were nothing more than porn with spaghetti thrown in — and I mean thrown in — at the end.
One poor girl was in the doggy position, figuring she was being pretty erotic, until the guy threw spaghetti on her back. The video was in Italian, so maybe that’s how off-the-rail Italians show their appreciation.
For all I know, everything is a Pastafarian totem, and there are more Pastafarian worshippers of his Noodleness than we know about.
Or maybe it has no significance whatsoever, except possibly being a Pastafarian totem. For all I know, everything is a Pastafarian totem, and there are more Pastafarian worshippers of his Noodleness than we know about.
That said, I still wonder how Italians feel about “spaghetti sex” in the first place. Surely the inventors of spaghetti (even if it was brought back from China by Marco Polo) don’t like their favourite dish being tossed around like erotic confetti.
If you’ve ever tasted real homemade spaghetti, there’s no way you’d throw it on a naked woman. The real stuff melts in your mouth, not in your hand, or her hand, or whatever. You just don’t toss homemade spaghetti.
I also don’t think women are that crazy about spaghetti being tossed on them during sex. As one women stated on social media, “Having a vagina, I don’t want anything near there that looks like worms.”
“I really dropped the spaghetti, dude,” he said, and the other responded, “It happens. I drop spaghetti all the time.”
Even more confusing is that “dropping spaghetti” has made it’s way into common speech. Like the guy admitting to another guy that he screwed up with his girlfriend. “I really dropped the spaghetti, dude,” he said, and the other responded, “It happens. I drop spaghetti all the time.”
One day he really will drop spaghetti, and all he’ll get is a pat on the shoulder. “Get over it, dude, you don’t need her. Have you ever tried stuffing a condom with spaghetti? It passes the time, it really does.”
Then there’s the trolling explanation. According to a number of followers on Reddit, greentexting uses “spaghetti stories” to attract followers who want to see weird shit. Dropping spaghetti out of your briefcase, for instance, gets you big points, especially if you’re a politician. The present administration is known for “dropping spaghetti” everywhere, both verbally and physically. It’s also possible Donald Trump is hoping to be the next Flying Spaghetti Monster.
We need legal precedents to stop this, even if it means using a goofy name with spaghetti in the title.
If it seems we’ve pushed pasta as far as we can go, there’s the Spaghetti Conjunction, an accepted legal term in the U.K. referring to unnecessary harassment based on race, gender or sexual orientation. People are getting harassed all over the place over there—and here, for that matter. We need legal precedents to stop any form of harassment, even if it means using a goofy name with spaghetti in the title.
I still think Italians should be upset about this. Sticking pasta where it doesn’t belong is offensive to the national dish. Shouldn’t we be more respectful? As Mario Batali once said, “Spaghetti is love.” Then again, we have Sophia Loren saying, “Spaghetti can be eaten most successfully if you inhale it like a vacuum cleaner.”
Either she has one hell of a metabolism, or we’ve been eating spaghetti wrong. That other stuff we’re doing with spaghetti is wrong, too.
I don’t care if there is a Flying Spaghetti Monster. We have to treat this national dish with more respect and consideration.
I don’t care if there is a Flying Spaghetti Monster. We have to treat this national dish with more respect and consideration. That means keeping it out of condoms, especially. Or as one woman on a social media site said, “You want to…what?”
Exactly. If you want to be weird, stick to snails. Nobody’s going to get upset if you drop snails. They’re weird to begin with. Just lay off spaghetti!
Robert Cormack is a satirist, novelist and blogger. His first novel “You Can Lead a Horse to Water (But You Can’t Make It Scuba Dive)” is available online and at most major bookstores. Check out Skyhorse Press or Simon and Schuster for more details.
