There's No Sex Position More Holly Than This

Let's be honest with ourselves for a second. We've all been there. The lights are low, the mood is sort of set, and you look over at your partner, ready to get your freak on. But instead of a passionate embrace, you are met with a posture that screams, "I am a festive decoration, and also, please don't touch me."

Yes, I'm talking about the position. The one that is so stiff, so sharp, so utterly devoid of flexibility that it should come with a warning label: "For decorative purposes only."

The Holly Bush. A.K.A. The Prickly Starfish.

You know the one. Arms and legs sticking out at awkward, jagged angles. Skin so tense you could cut yourself on their elbow. No movement. No give. Just a rigid, leafy defense system designed to keep predators (that's you, honey) far, far away.

They aren't lying there seductively. They are lying there like a botanical hazard. You try to get close, and suddenly you're getting poked by sharp hip bones, pointy knees, and an attitude that says, "I'm festive, but I am NOT for consumption."

Some people like to spiritualise everything, don't they? 💔

"I'm not moving because I'm evergreen....I last forever."

"I'm not making eye contact because I'm prickly by nature."

"I'm lying as still as a wreath because intimacy is sacred, and sacred things don't involve hip rotation."

Honey, if I wanted to cuddle a Christmas decoration, I would have hugged the neighbour's front door. At least the wreath has the decency to stay outside.

The Frozen Chicken vs. The Holly Berry

Let's talk about the partners who treat the bedroom like a winter wonderland, specifically the part of winter where everything is dead and frozen solid.

Last week we talked about Frozen Chickens. At least a frozen chicken thaws if you leave it out long enough. But a Holly partner? They are permanently spiky. You try to move them into a different position, and they resist like a shrubbery in a windstorm. You try to get some rhythm going, and they are as rigid as a branch that hasn't seen sunlight since 1982.

I'm not asking for gymnastics. I'm not asking for a reindeer prance. But if I have to wear gardening gloves just to get close to you, we have a problem. 😜

The Math of the Mistletoe Myth

Look, I get it. Mistletoe is for kissing. Holly is for looking at from a safe distance. But some people confuse the two. They think that just because they showed up, they've done their part.

Let me break it down for you:

Mistletoe equals soft, romantic, invites a kiss.

Holly equals sharp, pointy, says "back off or lose an eye."

If you are lying there like a holly bush, you aren't being "mysterious." You're being a hazard to navigation. And last I checked, nobody sings carols about the holly bush that moved its hips even a little bit.

The Verdict

So, to all the Holly Berries out there, loosen up. Bend a limb. Crack a smile. Drop the defensive foliage for five minutes and act like a human being instead of a garden center display.

And to the partners out there braving the thorns, God bless you. You are doing the Lord's work, literally. Your reward is in heaven because it sure as heck isn't happening on the bedsheets. You deserve a medal. Or at least a pair of pruning shears. 😂😂😂

Stay spicy, my friends. Or at least stay less shrubbery.