The New Yorker Mocks Duggar Family With Satirical 'Kama Sutra' of Sex Positions

December 4th, 2014 5:33 PM

The secular left really hates the Duggar family of TLC’s “19 Kids & Counting,” and finds their very strict dating and courtship rules incredibly bizarre. The December 8 issue of The New Yorker features gay playwright and screenwriter Paul Rudnick’s satire titled “The Duggar Family Kama Sutra.”

The ongoing gag is the Duggars are almost asexual, and their marriages are barren. Under a list of sexual positions, they mock the supposed lack of sex. As in “The Threeway: An advanced technique, in which a mom and her two grown daughters secretly discuss divorcing their husbands, until orgasm.”

There are also these jokes:

The La-Z-Boy

This technique is for only the most adventurous couples, as it involves the husband tilting his recliner all the way back, while the wife straddles the armrests and crochets a birthday scarf for her dad....

The Missionary Position

This is perhaps the most satisfying sexual maneuver, because the wife remains in America while the husband serves as a missionary along the Amazon. Both parties receive erotic pleasure from choppy long-distance telephone conversations, in which the only understandable words are “prayer,” “antibiotic gel,” and “I’ve finally persuaded the entire tribe to wear cargo shorts and culottes, so there’s no more of that flippity-floppity.”

The Family Orgy

All family members must assemble in a great room or back yard. Each member is handed a Magic Marker and a square of oaktag, and asked to write down an activity that leads them to profound sensual arousal. On the count of three, everyone holds up their statements, revealing such options as “Vacuuming Underneath Large Pieces of Furniture,” “Refinishing a Tag-Sale Find,” and “Coaching Softball at the Nursing Home.” If anyone’s oaktag reads “Picturing My Girlfriend Wearing Kneesocks” or “Wondering What It Would Be Like If We Had HBO,” then that family member will have a pentagram drawn on his or her forehead, and will receive only a single Pillsbury crescent roll at dinner.

When it came to actually making babies, Rudnick joked that it was accomplished in total darkness with “no more than thirty seconds of intimate contract,” after which “both parnters will run to separate bathrooms and scrub themselves with wire brushes.”

Earlier: Rudnick mocks Hobby Lobby with the “crotch cozy”