Shame about sex addicts

If having an addiction means indulging in something you can’t give up and constantly writing about it, then surely Barry Lowe is a sex addict.

“OMG!” Chuck moaned. “I’m a sex addict and I didn’t even know it.”

I sighed. “You’ve been to see that movie Shame, haven’t you?”

Chuck wailed even louder. “I only went because everyone told me what a huge schlong Michael Fassbender has. See, I’m obsessed with cock.”

For those of you who’ve been fortunate enough to miss the tedious film by Steve McQueen, it’s a rather trite and psychologically bereft examination of a brother and sister in a dysfunctional relationship the reasons for which are never revealed but which could be incest. The main focus is, however, the sex addiction of Fassbender’s main character, Brandon.

“You know the scene where Brandon goes to the gay club?” Chuck asked.

“Where it’s meant to show Brandon has reached absolute rock bottom depravity by allowing himself to be sucked off by a man?”

“Uh huh. I got an erection watching the guys in the background going at it like jack rabbits. It was so down and dirty and shameless I wanted to be in on the action. I had to stop the movie and relieve myself. Twice.”

“So gay men have less shame and guilt than straights? We’ve always known that. Anyway, there are different schools of thought including those that believe sex addiction is another attempt by the mental therapeutics industry to create more cash flow for themselves by creating a new disease, while others think a sex addict is defined as someone who’s getting more than you are.”

I don’t think Chuck was really interested in anything I was saying, he merely wanted to vent. He’s always been a drama queen.

“My behavior ticks all the boxes. I pop into that shithouse in the park near my place for sex on the way to work each morning. I’m always cruising guys in the street at lunchtime and sometimes I head to the sauna before I go home.”

“Yeah, so you’re a slut. And you were a happy slut until you watched that bloody film,” I said.

“Now I know I’m a sex addict.”

“Give me a break. It’s only a problem if it begins to impinge on your everyday life. Does the sex make you late for work?”

“Only if the cock is over eleven inches. Then I’ll take the day off.”

“If I had eleven inches up my arse I’d take the week off.”

“Do you think I’m a sex addict?”

“Everyone’s addicted to something. Energy drinks, cola, chocolate, flower arranging, paisley underpants. After all, stamp collecting is as much an addiction as cock sucking. Collecting DVDs is as much an addiction as arse fucking. Coffee drinking is as much of an addiction as felching. If you can’t give it up, it’s an addiction.”

“I don’t drink coffee. Does that mean it’s okay for me to continue felching?”

Oh brother! Chuck is the sort of person who watches those hospital programs on TV and immediately develops the symptoms of every disease of the week (although in his case brain tumours seem an impossibility when he doesn’t seem to possess even the basics of intelligence).

“Chuck, you are not a sex addict.”

“But like the character in the movie, I can’t form a stable relationship.”

I was close to screaming at him. “You’re not looking for a stable relationship. You don’t believe in them. You’ve told me so yourself many times.”

“Have I?”

“Sex addicts, if there really is such a thing, are the people who have cupboards full of porn DVDs, magazines, erotica novels, sex toys, are always on the net looking up kinky websites, people who play with their dicks all day, who think about nothing but sex, cocks, arseholes, who write about it constantly…”

Holy shit! I think I’m a sex addict.

[Pictured] Michael Fassbender in Shame (2011), a film that portrays the world of sex addicts.

Shame is out on blu-ray, DVD and iTunes on June 6.