When was the last time you thought of Sinead O’Connor? Was it the nineties? Because the Irish pop star who launched a thousand buzz clippers has grown up into quite the fine 44-year-old lady since then, and apparently, also a super duper horny one.
In an article published last week in the Independent, the famed pope-hater talked about being “in desperate need of a very sweet sex-starved man. He must be no younger than 44.” In what reads like a very long and exacting personal ad, she extolled her virtues as a lover, which include:
1.) Considering humping a truck:
“I recently read of a woman in America who married and regularly humps her truck. I don’t yet own a truck but I’m beginning to understand her head space.”
2.) Considering using other inappropriate masturbation/fornication objects:
My situation sexually/affectionately speaking is so dire that inanimate objects are starting to look good, as are inappropriate and/or unavailable men and/or inappropriate and/or unavailable fruits and vegetables. I tell you, yams are looking like the winners
I know she grew up in a Catholic country, but someone should tell her about body-safe dildos. Seems like she’s cruising for an avoidable injury.
3.) Knows Karen Finley, the performance artist who got in trouble for humping yams. Of course she does.
4.) Currently in the peak of her sexual prime:
I am in the peak of my sexual prime and way too lovely to be living like a nun, and it’s VERY depressing.
Fun fact: Sinead O’Connor is actually a priest in a small Catholic splinter group. Priests in this religion are…different from the regular kind.
Basically, her virtues are 1.) desire, and 2.) desperation. Also, duh, she’s Sinead O’Connor.
Her requirements for a sex partner are pretty detailed for someone so desperate: must be her age or older, must not be named Brian or Nigel, must have a real job, must have body hair, must not be homeless, must have a dick, yada yada. I bet she’d be flexible on some of these things, though. Would you really try to have sex with a motor vehicle before you’d consider someone named Brian? That is a common name, Sinead O’Connor. I think you are being a little unreasonable.
The screed continues over at her website, where she goes into even more detail about stuff like anal sex (“Any man I contemplate has to be into anal sex … yes I ‘do anal’ and in fact I would be deeply unhappy if ‘doing anal’ wasn’t on the menu, amongst everything else$$ So if u don’t like ‘the difficult brown’ … Don’t apply“), getting turned down by Adam Clayton of U2 (“the only doable one in the band“), and her love of stubble-sniffing (“I want the end of my nose red raw from sniffing smelly men’s stubbly faces. I want my whole face and neck sore from stubbly men sniffing me!“). She also revises her search to include not only Brians and Nigels (glad she saw reason there) but women, too. It cannot be said that Sinead O’Connor isn’t open to casting a wide net.
Some people think this is her bipolar disorder talking, which, well, duh. Still, haven’t we all had thoughts somewhere in this ballpark once in a while, in our darker moments? Lonely for some lurvin’, but unwilling to lower our standards enough to go with the first taker, especially when that taker is a vegetable? I find this sentence particularly resonant:
I WANT TO BE LURVED STUPID BY SWEET FILTHY MEN WITH MUSIC ON
Don’t we all, Sinead. Don’t we all.