Tag Archives: Sex

Molotov Cockteach, Sex Coach.

Molotov Cockteach is our sex therapist extrodinaire, guiding us through the jungle of dating, sex and general debauchery.

She’s a no-nonsense lady with strong opinions and thighs of steel. We don’t always follow her advice (especially when it involves leaving the couch) but we usually know that we should.

1) Are things like socks + sandals ok as deal breakers, even if it’s just a one night stand?

Definitely! No woman, or man, should have to endure the psychological aftermath of such a thing. Especially if the one night stand in particular is naked with ONLY socks + sandals. Punch him in the face for being insulted like that and run while there’s still time.

2) When is it ok to sleep with someone just because they look like a fictional character you fancy?

I don’t get it, why wouldn’t it be ok? I would do The Riddler any day of the week, even if he does look like one of the Weasley bros occasionally. This philosophy might not always be appropriate, but what the heck. It’s just sex. Fuck the Penguin if you feel like it, just don’t do it in public. Again, psychological aftermath. Brr!

3) What’s the best way to get rid of a hangover? Sex or food?

Food sex? Personally, I do it with a bottle of vodka, but I think the best order is to have sex, and then eat. And then feed each other, and have sex again. In the kitchen, while eating, perhaps?

4) Is bad to not sleep with people because they don’t resemble the fictional characters you fancy?

I sense a bit of a cartoon-hangup here. And no. Not if you don’t want to be one of the sad, sad people who sits at home with cats and a bottle of wine watching too much TV. If it’s so bad, get the first guy you see a mask and/or a costume of preferred fictional character and GET ON WITH IT!


5) I had one more question, but then I had sex, and I forgot it. Does sex cause memory loss?

No. Sex does not cause memory loss. The alcohol and drugs you took last night, that made you have sex, caused the memory loss. And trust me, you really don’t want to remember.

Send Molotov your own questions here!

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Lady Fucking Gaga


I love Lady Gaga. That’ll come as no surprise to anyone that knows me. However, if you had met me about 5-6 years ago you’d probably be blown away. See, I used to be pretty anti pop music. God knows why, but I suspect it had something to do with me being a pretentious indie kid.

Luckily I’ve since seen the error of my ways and accepted pop music as the brilliant thing it is. But being a former music snob makes me realise that pop has, in a way, lost its magic. After all, it’s not for no reason that tons of songs have been written bemoaning the current state of it.

This is where Our Lady of Pop comes in. Because, at least in my eyes (or ears as it might be) she’s managed to refresh the idea of what pop music is. And in the process she’s managed to churn out some proper choons.

But the thing that gets me most about Lady Gaga is how she’s wielded her image like a sword. Creating this amazing persona that’s not only in fashion, but that’s also a representation of female empowerment. Her public persona is that of a highly sexualised woman, instead of simply a sex symbol; an object to be treasured and lusted after. I think this is what impresses me the most about her. How she, in the way she dresses and appears, is nothing if not sexy, but still in a way that strikes me as being entirely for her (even if it does, of course, attract media attention).

Because, like it or not, she’s a woman who dares to leave the house without trousers on. And through her daring and sexually charged sartorial choices she’s managed to garner an attention that is not completely based on her as a sexual object.

This, exactly this, is what I love most about fashion; that the way we dress can give us back the control over how our bodies are viewed. I feel that fashion, especially in the past couple of years, have fallen much more into the hands of the wearer. Probably a lot thanks to the fashion blogger revolution. But the point I’m trying to get at is that we are no longer, and haven’t been for a while, dressing for the opposite sex. We’re dressing because it’s fun, and if we are dressing for anyone, it’s for our female peers. And Lady Gaga is a part of this.

Lady Gaga gets away with wearing leotards and crazy hats. Not just because she’s Lady fucking Gaga, but also because our views have shifted. Things like not wearing trousers, or baring your midriff, or even wearing crazy lacy unitards are no longer necessarily a sign that you’re selling out to the slobbering masses. It’s a fashion fucking statement.

Marple, raising her glass to Lady Gaga.


Filed under Marple