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September 19, 2011 | by  | in Opinion |
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I Am Offended Beacuase – In Defence of the Hickey

My girlfriend and I had sex on Saturday morning. This isn’t unusual, and it perhaps isn’t column material, but we’ve almost been together for three years and it’s nice to know that we are—as yet—untouched by the icy fingers of lesbian bed death. Our anniversary is on Halloween, if you’d like to send well wishes, gifts or singing telegrams. It’s hard to believe that it has almost been three years since I did a walk of shame home through Aro Park, clutching a Kristov Orange cask but like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives. And to get back on topic, I’m spending the days of my life having lesbian sex.

The Saturday morning sex was good. Great even. It was so great that when I looked in the mirror afterwards I had a thwacking great patch of hickeys on the left side of my neck, all the way up to my ear. I was horrified. I was humiliated. I was also hungry, but that didn’t have anything to do with the blood blisters. I ate an egg sandwich and I went to my rehearsal that afternoon hanging my head in shame. Hanging my head in shame but slightly to the left in a lackluster attempt to hide the hickeys. Predictably, my raspberry neck was met with scorn and derision. It was then that my friend Hannah gave me some very sage advice. ‘Ally’ she said, ‘You are going to have own this.’ And then, my friends, it was a new dawn, a new day, a new life. I put my shoulders back, I put my chin up and I displayed my love bites for all the world to see. Or at least, the five people I was at rehearsal with.

My neck and I are bringing hickeys back. A hickey is just visible proof that someone has been nibbling on your neck, which is a mighty fine erogenous zone if you ask me. There is nothing shameful or trashy or embarrassing about having your neck slurped on. I don’t believe in judging the merits of a person by whether or not they’re sexually attractive to other people, but knowing what feels good and finding someone to do that with occasionally is kind of a cool thing. If you see someone with a hickey what you should be saying is ‘Congratulations’.  From now on I’m giving up on scarves and I’m leaving behind my concealer. I‘m no longer watching complicated YouTube tutorials about cold metal teaspoons or bottle caps or toothpaste. If we can reclaim the word ‘slut’ and we can reclaim needlepoint and sponge cakes then I can reclaim hickeys. I hereby decree that hickeys are in.
The only thing that sucks about hickeys is the literal sucking required to get one. Embrace your hickeys. I’m embracing mine with such vigour that I’ve got a new theme song. If you ever want to find me just listen out for the person humming “Hey Hickey, You’re So Fine, You’re So Fine You Blow My Mind, Hey Hickey!”

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  1. Tasmin says:

    Just found this and it’s brilliant.

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