Faced with a city-imposed snow day courtesy of Principal Bloomberg, the freeze on the town slowed things down into a surreal playground. Bambi-fans sent over dope snow-day activities that release the inner child in the dreamworld where there is no 9-to-five job, holed up with no choice but to live out the circumstances around you and play.

In The Interpretation of Dreams, Sigmund scribed the musings the poet Novalis on dreams, easily describing, also, snowdays,

Dreams are a shield agaist the humdrum monotony of life; they set imagination free from its chains so that it may throw into confusion all the pictures of everyday existence and break ito the unceasing gravity of grown men with the joyful play of a child. Without dreams we should surely grow sooner old; so we may look on them–not, perhaps as a gift from on high–but as a precious recreation, as friendly companions on our pilgrimage to the grave. [Heinrich von Ofterdingen (1802)]

First, one reader, Dr. Norton in Washington Heights, took to his NYC backyard, the roof, and released his id into a phallic wonderland. In bulk, these really would complement our watertower-sprinkled cityscape.

Next, some Chicago boys holed up in one of their ma’s Michigan cabins (escape being the only way to score a snow day in Daleyland) engaged in Id-maddening MAN vs. SELF Battle, a perfect blend of the dice drinking game 7-11 or Doubles and the Russian cardgame Durak (in which there are no winners, but there sure is a loser).

Dear Bambi,

Try this on for size: MAN vs. SELF: The Battle

Ok this is what I remember from MAN vs. SELF.

You’ll need two dice, 6 players each with an assigned number from 1-6. 6 shot glasses of beer and several penalty shots of sickly sweet margarita in the center of the table.

So say it’s my roll, I roll a 7 the person to my left drinks. I roll an 11, the person to my right drinks. As soon as they pick up their glass, anyone can roll either die until said drinker puts down the glass. if in that time, I roll a 7 or 11, they have to keep drinking. If I roll double 1-6, the person originally drinking has to have a battle with the person whose number I rolled in double. This consists of having to roll your own number with one of the dice, and being able to drink your shot only when you have rolled your number, the last person to drink two has to take a double penalty shot of margarita.

It should be noted that players must be on top of keeping the glasses refilled at all times.

If I roll and double the number of the person who is drinking, it is a self-battle known as an IDENTITY CRISIS, and is the heart of MAN vs. SELF. When this happens, the person is responsible for drinking four shots of beer and the two penalty margarita shots, if they are really hip to the psychological underpinnings of the game, they might play left hand vs. right hand, each rolling one die trying to get their own number and be allowed to drink their shots.

If I’m rolling and my number is 4 and I roll a double 4, everyone drinks.

If I’m rolling and on my first roll and get a double other number, whoever has that number begins drinking, and I start rolling against them, just like with a 7 or 11.

If more than 6 multiple people can be assigned to a number and when their number is rolled, they both drink, “two against nature” And where there would normally be a self battle, now there is a “double self battle”

Then we had a nose goes rule: if the same benign number is rolled twice it is a nose goes, the last person to touch their nose has to drink and can be rolled again by anyone whilst doing so. This is a dangerous rule because the person who is the drunkest usually is the slowest to respond to nose goes, and thus gets even drunker than the rest of the pack.

Thanks to EZ, Julio ‘Tito’ Guillermo, Beef Whitington Wigdon, Jukman, Bless, and Dev for that one.

And finally, for those who can still stand up after a round of that, a few tips if you are down to get plowed in that shitstorm:

• Use the moldable terrain to your advantage. Get creative with angled platforms made of packed poof.
• Bonus! Rubbers are insulation from more elements than before.

The post The Pleasure Principle: Freudian Sex Advice with Bambi: Snow Day Diversions appeared first on Jewcy.

Q. Dear Bambi,

I find what you do offensive. Your column misuses Freud to get a few laughs and perverts  the school of thought outside of its appropriate place in the science community.

A. What are you doing rummaging around a sex column not expecting a little depravity? I’m glad you stopped by to highlight the scandal we’re engaged in however, all very good for publicity.

Sticking by my buddy Sigmund and a little ditty he wrote called the Future of an Illusion that speaks, not only for the scientific community, but also for those who value science foremost,

We believe that it is possible for scientific work to gain some knowledge about the reality of the world, by means of which we can increase our power and in accordance with which we can arrange our life. If this belief is an illusion, then we are in the same position as you. But science has given us evidence by its numerous and important successes that it is no illusion. Science has many open enemies and many more secret ones, among those who cannot forgive her for having weakened religious faith and for threatening to overthow it. She is reproached for the smallness of the amount she has taught us and for the incomparably greater field she has left in obscurity…the transformations of scientific opinion are developments, advances, not revolutions…Our organization–that is, our mental apparatus–has been developed precisely in the attempt to explore the external world, and it must therefore have reailzed in its structure some degree of expediency; in the second place, it is itself a constituent part of the world whcih we set out to investigate, and it readily admits of such an investigation; thirdly, the task of science is fully covered if we limit it to showing how the world must appear to us in consequence of the particular character of our organization; fourthly, the ultimate findings of science, precisely because of the way in which they are acquired, are determined not only by our organization but by the things whcih have affected that organization; finally, the problem of the nature of the world without regard to our percipient mental apparatus is an empty abstraction, devoid of practical interest.

No, our science is no illusion. But an illusion it would be to suppose that what science cannot give us we can get elsewhere.

That mistake is not made in this column. Rather, with faith in the mental apparatuses of readers who get off on the empirical, paired with the acknowledgment that we are all basely horny fucks, intelligent Bambifans can benefit from science and Freud in a raunchy setting (do you think his office was any different?). Straying from academia allows a culture of discourse to cultivate in just another Petri dish like it has in the analysts’ community. Perverting the bearded Austrian sugartort publicly isn’t such a bad idea if you think about it.

Furthermore, Freud wrote in Character and Culture,

Psychoanalysis has only this to its credit, that is has not affirmed these two propositions that are so wounding to narcissism on an abstract basis–the importance of sexuality in the mind and the unconsciousness of mental activity–but has demonstrated them in matters that touch every individual personally and force him to take up some attitude towards these problems.

There’s a reason for an entire Sex & Love department. As the hottest thinker in the industry who was unafraid to think for himself and question authority, Freud belongs in pop culture as the Ashton Kutcher of psychonaughts.

To quote another Freudian philosopher in one of his greatest works,

The… the other important joke, for me, is one that’s usually attributed to Groucho Marx; but, I think it appears originally in Freud’s Wit and Its Relation to the Unconscious, and it goes like this—I’m paraphrasing—um, “I would never want to belong to any club that would have someone like me for a member.” Woody Allen, Annie Hall

Q. Dear Bambi,

I’m too broke to go out for New Years Eve. How do I score a hot date without a dime?

A. A New Year’s celebration requires going all out in one way or another, although due to the restrictions of reality, this can prove difficult. Do not derail your thirst for good times. Quoting the Good Doctor again in Character and Culture when he set out on a pipedream trip to Athens,

We discussed the plan that had been proposed, agreed that it was quite impracticable and saw nothing but difficulties in the way of carrying it out; we assumed, moreover, that we should not be allowed to land in Greece without passports. We spent the hours that elapsed before the Lloyd offices opened in wandering about the town in a discontented and irresolute frame of mind. But when the time came, we went up to the counter and booked our passages for Athens as though it were a matter of course, without bothering in the least about the supposed difficulties and indeed without having discussed with one another the reasons for our decision. Such behavior, it must be confessed, was most strange…When, finally, on the afternoon after our arrival, I stood upon the Acropolis and cast my eyes around upon the landscape, a remarkable thought suddenly entered my mind: “So all this really does exist…!”

He didn’t even have a passport! Transferring our attention from the drawbacks to the possibilities, here are several suggestions for a colorful last night in the universe, even if you lack obvious amenities.

1. Digital Romance

Contrary to the dealings in pop news items, the majority of Craigslist casual encounters don’t require you to have a buck. Put it out there on CL, JDate, Kinkyjews.com–find yourself a virtual rendezvous that can manifest in the flesh by the midnight hour. Bonus: allotting for holes in the party budget, expensive NYE attire may be optional.

2. Should auld acquaintance be forgot (“Unless of course those tests come back positive”- Jay Leno)

You are doubtfully the only one with more debt than gelt ringing in the new year. In fact, you can probably name five friends in a similar position, one you wouldn’t mind screwing like Madoff. Carpe diem! Scrape together some change for a bubbly bottle of Andre to make for some Pacha fun chez toi that you may regret.

3. When in Athens, party as the Mediterraneans do

Find a hot Serb. Not only do they know how to party on the cheap (unless they are a sponzorusa aka golddigger looking for sponsorship), but they’re looking forward to an even more agregious celebration on their January 13th New Year. Grab a homegrown bottle of slivovits and a guitar and you’ve got yourself a party. Along the same lines, try scouting out a hot Chinese date or 5771 devotee.

The post The Pleasure Principle: Freudian Sex Advice With Bambi: Visit to the Complaint Department and NYE Hookups on the Cheap appeared first on Jewcy.

Q: Dear Miss Shlomovich,

My mother doesn’t approve of my man. Which I know is bullshit, but being the good Jewish girl I am, I can’t help but take her obnoxious perspective into consideration. I’m happy and the sex is great and I get off on the vile things he makes me do. He just doesn’t fit the mold that I would have pictured for myself, let alone my mother’s dreams of my future. I just want to know why I’m so adamantly pursuing this and ignoring the ideal my mother suggests that I guess I don’t think would be so heinous.

Sarah, Brooklyn

A: You’ve given me little to work with here in the way of specifics, so I’m gonna have to make assumptions about said “vile things” you two are engaging in. In Sexuality and the Psychology of Love, the good doctor examines,

Above all, the coprophilic elements in the instinct have proved incompatible with our aesthetic ideas, probably since the time when man developed an upright posture and so removed his organ of smell from the ground; a considerable proportion of the sadistic elements belonging to the erotic instinct have to be abandoned. All such developmental processes, however, relate only to the upper layers of the complicated structure. The fundamental processes which promote erotic excitation remain always the same. Excremental things are all too intimately and inseparably bound up with sexual things; the position of the genital organs–inter urnias et faeces–remains the decisive and unchangeable factor. One might say, modifying a well-known saying of the great Napoleon’s, “Anatomy is destiny.” The genitals themselves have not undergone the development of the rest of the human form in the direction of beauty; they have retained their animal cast; and so even to-day love, too, is in essence as animal as it ever was. The erotic instincts are hard to mould; training of them achieves now too much, now too little. What culture tries to make out of them seems attainable only at the cost of a sensible loss of pleasure; the persistence of the impulses that are not enrolled in adult sexual activity makes itself felt in an absence of satisfaction.

He wrote that shit in 1912. God bless. Whether you’re making your mother or your monkeybrain proud, always keep your big picture satisfaction in mind. As Freud observes, it’s hard to keep the complicated, modern, sadistic woman completely gravy. Rather than using your fuel worrying about fitting your naughty into preconceived cultural molds, resign to your designs while keeping checks on everything else. Still getting to work on time and reading the news on the daily while you satisfy that beast? Mazel tov, you’re gold.

In regards to your mother’s specific vision for you, that you are a nice Jewish girl respectful of the matriarchy is probably as ingrained in you as your fate to get wet over drek. As long as you don’t suffer from it, keep what she’s got to say in mind on a logical level. But as I like to say, the hole in your sheets is no place for your mother’s guilt to linger. Do you think that your mother will ever understand that the key to your heart is a shitstain on your chest (figuratively speaking or otherwise)? Maybe keep her out of that loop. If, all things considered, dirty play trumps bagging a nice boy you could bring home to the rents, don’t beat yourself up about it, and commit to your happy factor confidently. Since you have a morsel of respect for your ma’s POV, stick to other kosher topics that don’t channel her inner matchmaker.

In conclusion, just heed the advice of Freud’s fellow Jewish sage Saul Hudson who gave us one of the greatest odes to the confusion of love in rockdom:

And when your fears subside
And shadows still remain, ohhh yeahhh
I know that you can love me
When there’s no one left to blame
So never mind the darkness
We still can find a way
‘Cause nothin’ lasts forever
Even cold November rain

The post The Pleasure Principle: Freudian Sex Advice With Bambi: Mother Unapproved Liaisons, With Special Guest Slash appeared first on Jewcy.

Q: Dear Bambi, I’m seeing a girl who’s pretty good at what she does in bed. She’s got moves that are like nothing I’ve ever experienced and she’s in a constant state of ecstasy, it’s beautiful. She’s inspired me to build my own gamut of positions, but I can’t bring myself to make anything unique. Any suggestions for freeing my inner sexgod?

Thanks,

-R

A: In the chapter “The Moses of Michelangelo” in Freud’s Character and Culture he writes,

Long before I had any opportunity of hearing about psychoanalysis, I learnt that a Russian art-connoisseur, Ivan Lermolieff, had caused a revolution in the art galleries of Europe by questioning the authorship of many pictures, showing how to distinguish copies from originals with certainty, and constructing hypothetical artists for those works of art whose former supposed authorship had been discredited. He did this by insisting that attention should be diverted from the general impression and main features of a picture and he laid stress on the significance of minor details, of things like the drawing of the fingernails, of the lobe of an ear, of aureoles and such unconsidered trifles which the copyist neglects to imitate and yet which every artist executes in his own characteristic way…It seemed to me that his method of inquiry is closely related to the technique of psychoanalysis. It, too, is accustomed to divine secret and concealed things from unconsidered or unnoticed details, from the rubbish-heap, as it were, of our observations.

Champion most likely didn’t invent anything new, but rather owns what she does and does it uncensored. There are hundreds and hundreds of ways to put two and two together, so find your faves and get em down. But like Ivan’s Freud-approved observation, the secret lies in details. Zoom in from the awesome portrait to the fingernails and you will see that what she does is authentically hers. That she can lose herself in an ecstatic ball of bliss demonstrates knowledge–of her self, the vibe of the moment, and the arts of gettin down.

The difference between mortal fucker and sexgod is not unlike that which separates counterfeiter and visionary artist: beyond a sense of the big picture/ posish, you need to tap into acute attention to details on a level that precedes the censoring superego, or risk, thanks to Ivan, being outed as a copycat fink. If your id naturally gravitates toward the higher intuition and suavidad that sexgods must possess (and your question conveys as much), that is where your loyalty must lie.

In honor of Hanukkah, allow me to unburden you with a few holiday-spirited ideas for the big picture:

Festival of Lights

Bring the menorah in the loveshack for some mood lighting. The seductive atmosphere will act as a filter (the very same that bars employ) that diverts attention to your own shamash and what it can do to light her fire.

Judah the Hammer

Master your plan of attack and do as the Maccabee did, guerrilla warfare-style. Keep her on her toes/ back with surprise moves that lead to victory. Hit it to a little Yehudah-inspired tunage courtesy of Handel.

Tantric Eight

Eight is a transcendental number for the tribe, representing the Infinite. The goal is to fit in eight moves before you both dedicate your altars. Post-octave you can probably down eight sufganiyots each.

Hanukkah is not Shabbat

So do it with all the electronics on in the house, in an elevator, in the car, or on the bus. Extravagance is a staple of the holiday season.

The post The Pleasure Principle: Freudian Sex Advice with Bambi: It’s the Great Sexgod, Charlie Brown PLUS Hanukkah-Flavored Positions appeared first on Jewcy.

Q: My dear little sister, the one who failed to get Bat Miztvahed due to Transatlantic moves, has become increasingly concerned with her Jewishness.

She is expressing the desire to become Orthodox and foremost in her plan is the idea that she will one day be a Rabbi’s wife.

She has informed her uber-goy boyfriend that he must go through an Orthodox conversion, and become a rabbi or she will not marry him, but is also looking for tips on how she can meet and secure the life long affection of a bonafide Rabbi, in case his conversion doesn’t work out.

A: The probability of goyfriend successfully turning rabbi is slimmer than your sister’s slam-dunk as a pious Orthodox Rabbi’s plus one. He’s probably way behind in his studies, and a lover going so far as to shape future career paths to fit a mate’s tastes sounds laughably like the foil of a Jonathan Franzen novel.  Figuring she’s willing to commit the years of study and that her uterus can expel a baker’s dozen, the rest is pretty basic feminine allure, knowing her audience, and strategically placing herself in menschy breeding grounds, like Birthright (a “Jewish Fuckfest” by most accounts) and Hillel gatherings at a campus near you.

But let us analyze ze wish for Orthodox success, one that seems to have surprised you:

We should then assume that in every human being there exist, as the primary cause of dream-formation, two psychic forces (tendencies or systems), one of which forms the wish expressed by the dream, while the other exercises a censorship over this dream-wish, thereby enforcing on it a distortion. The question is: What is the nature of the authority of this second agency by virtue of which it is able to exercise its censorship?

As a close sibling who knows her sister’s deepest wish in life, do you know from where this desire and conclusion derives? Lie her down on the couch and have a tête-à-tête. Guilt-riddled ultimatums for boyfriends and lamenting the Bat Mitzvah that never was, she must consider: are these of the id, the dream and wish-producing factory of the honest unconscious, or of the censoring ego: that which protects the self and produces artificial rationalization to make up for more troubling matters in the id. To consciously analyze the state of her union might be best before otherwise formidable boyfriend (unless otherwise stated by the id) and lifestyle are chucked by the wayside for another worldview that comes with its own baggage in the longrun.

Q: Dan Savage says if a guy shows up without a propensity for giving head, you should send him back to the factory to be refurbished. In my situation, even though I like oral pleasure to be sure, he’s got a lot of other things going on worth bragging about. He’s just indifferent to going down. How do I handle this?

A: On the topic of your man’s indifference, Freud has written,

But many dreams which appear indifferent, in which we should never suspect a tendency in any particular direction, may be traced, according to the analysis, to unmistakably sexual wish-impulses, often of an unsuspected nature. For example, who, before it had been interpreted, would have suspected a sexual wish in the following dream? The dreamer relates: Between two stately palaces there stands, a little way back, a small house, whose doors are closed. My wife leads me along the little bit of road leading to the house and pushes the door open, and then I slip quickly and easily into the interior of a courtyard that slopes steeply upwards.

His indifference is nonexistent–inaction speaks louder than words. Every girl is different, and knowing what captivates your attention is key to knowing your plan of attack. Perhaps he can be swayed into the service industry. Reassociating his services rendered to be more about eyecandy dripping with ecstasy with reciprocated rewards to follow makes it less about selflessly giving himself to your selfish requests (just keep his mind off of that fact).

But if you’ve scored a guy with the epic proportions you crave, don’t get too picky over the menu selections–prix fixe is always divine, but if anything you can always grab dessert at another restaurant.

Got a question?  E-mail it to Bambi@Jewcy.com

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