By Judy McGuire
dategirl@nypress.com

Ah yes, one year ends and a new one begins. This is where I'm supposed to get all deep and philosophical, right? I'm pretty sure that's the way it's supposed to go. Since I've never been much for sensitive, reflective crap, I thought I might take a more historical look back at the year, sexually speaking. To jar my memory I took nerve.com's "Year in Sex" quiz and, to my horror, discovered I was only able to answer eight of 20 questions correctly! WTF? How was I supposed to know the Justin Timberlake lyric that prompted Janet Jackson to show off her fugly nipple piercing at that big game? I wouldn't know a Justin Timberlake song if he hummed one up my bum. As for football—color me willfully ignorant. I have no use for beefy men who obscure all their good bits with plastic padding. I'll take the lanky, sweaty shorts-clad men of basketball over that nonsense any day. Mrow.

Nor did I know that "omnisexual" is one of the newest entries into the esteemed Oxford English Dictionary. And why would I? The word roughly means "including any kind of sexuality." An omnisexual is someone who's attracted to men, women, trannies, etc. It's one of those hyper-PC terms that immediately drains all the fun out of slutty behavior. Personally, I boycott words like that. "Polyamory" is also verboten in Judy's Funhouse Dictionary. Don't get me wrong—if you can handle a relationship with two boyfriends, or three girlfriends and a bisexual pre-op, more power to you. But I will not call you "polyamorous," nor will I speak of "triads" or even "boundaries," for that matter. You're slutty fun-havers. Enjoy it while you can. Because somebody's gonna get on your nerves sooner rather than later.

One answer I was mortified to get wrong was that 11 states voted to ban gay marriage. My wrong answer was five. But I think that was more a case of not wanting to believe 11 whole states are that hateful and wrongheaded.

Alabama's Bill 607, which prohibits dangerous items like vibrators and butt plugs, oddly doesn't forbid "family" video stores from also renting pornos and unrated un-American foreign-type movies with subtitles and naked siblings. I'm okay with not getting the right answer to this one, because the South with all their mysterious Christian ways is a mystery to me and I'm quite comfortable with that. In this case, ignorance is, if not bliss, at least not deeply unsettling.

One question I guessed correctly (and I assure you, it was a guess) was my favorite new word—"erototoxins." This term was coined by another, slightly more uptight, Judy—Judith Reisman—when she talked to the Senate about pornography. I hadn't actually bothered to read Dr. Reisman's Senate testimony, but I sure dug her word. I reckoned it was that feeling you get when you're so horny that it actually hurts. When that happens, you open a smut rag, have a wank and then the erotoxins are released and you feel much better. Right?

Well, no. Turns out I was wrong. I went to Doc Reisman's website, and, far from being the advocate for masturbation and willy-nilly seed-spilling, turns out she's one of those dreary old broads who hates sex, puts Alfred Kinsey in the same class as Hitler and considers porno mags a direct-mail campaign straight outta Satan's mailroom. In fact, the site's first page contains a laudatory quote from well-known nutbag "Dr." Laura Schlesinger about pornography's "assault on our children's innocence."

I think I'll stick with my definition. "I'm sorry Mr. Del Toro, but you have to lick my cooter right now or I'll be overcome by erotoxins and might possibly die."

There was a question about the Bill O'Reilly sexual-harassment case, but the thought of that man rocking a boner is more than my delicate constitution could take. I breezed past it as quickly as I could.

I guessed that Madonna was the mother who informed her offspring that "sometimes mommies need to get laid," but that's because I wasn't really thinking. Madge has Kabbalah now; she doesn't need sex. (Which is a good thing, as she appears to have completely emasculated her formerly only-borderline-hot-anyway husband.) Of course it was a Courtney Love utterance. What nerve.com didn't include was Courtney's follow-up quote: "and other times they just need a delicious speedball."

Sometimes the questions I answered correctly were even more appalling than the ones I got wrong. That I knew Britney and her white-trash huz gave their bridal party velour tracksuits that read "pimps" and "maids" on the back depressed me deeply. That's valuable brain space that could otherwise contain a recipe for fondue or directions to the big Target store in Queens.

Rasputin's preserved penis and Usher's sex addiction were also wrong answers, but as I have little interest in either (except that "Yeah" song is so darned catchy!), I'll spare you my errors. The 15-year-old girl who got suspended from an upstate school for wearing a "Barbie is a Lesbian" t-shirt was about as shocking as Janet Jackson's nipple. Speaking of shocking, that Fox declined to air a show because of "taste" issues is moderately surprising, but there was a homosexual theme. As 11 states have shown us, gay don't play here.