You’re Welcome

So, my public library has stopped carrying Cosmo.  Which sucks.  Cosmo online is not nearly as cringe-worthy as the print version, so it’s hard for me to find stuff to make fun of anymore.  I’m not gonna buy a bunch of Cosmos, those things are like $40 each, so I’ll have to figure something out.

Today, I will take questions from their “Ask Logan” and answer them.  But, I’m not going to actually read the whole question.  I will react only to the headline portion of the question.  Because that’s easier, and I’m too lazy to read dozens of questions from whiny people with almost problems.

Shall we begin?

Q: I Started an Affair With My Boss and Now I Can’t Get Over Him

Me: You should have thought about that before you got UNDER him!  Am I right?  Hi-yo!

Q: My Boyfriend’s Mom Offered to Break Up With Me for Him
Me; Imma go out on a limb here and say she doesn’t like you.

Q: My Brother’s Girlfriend Thinks My Relationship With Him Is “Completely Inappropriate”

Me: Maybe stop giving him under-the-table handjobs at Thanksgiving?

Q: It’s Been Over a Year and My Boyfriend Still Keeps Sexy Videos of His Ex

Me: Yeah, he should at least hide them in a system folder so you can’t find them, like everyone else does.

Q: My Boyfriend Is Super Rude to Me Whenever He Plays Video Games
Me: Sounds about right

Q: I Love Dating My Married Boyfriend, but I’m Worried I’m Going to Get Hurt

I really like him, but he doesn’t want anything more serious.

Me:  Well that’s quite the conundrum you’ve found yourself in through no fault of your own.

Q: We’ve Been Dating for 2 1/2 Years and I Still Haven’t Met His Parents

Me: You haven’t been dating for 2-1/2 years.  You’ve been the side chick for 2-1/2 years.

Q: Do You Need Multiple Partners to Be Better In Bed?

Me: At the same time?  Yes.

Q: My Husband Hid My Vibrator From Me
Me: Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Q: My Boyfriend Won’t Delete Nude Photos of His Ex Off His Phone

Me: Yeah….he’s not gonna do that…

Q: My Boyfriend Did Something Really Weird While We Were Making Out. I was really confused and kind of uncomfortable.

Me: Was it that thing with his pinky?  I bet it was that thing with his pinky.

Q: I Can’t Look My Boyfriend in the Eye During Sex
Me: Take off the blindfold, you twit.

Q: I Snooped on My Boyfriend’s Instagram and I Don’t Like What I Found
Q: Me: Well no shit.

Q: I’m a Straight Woman, but When I Orgasm I Pretend I’m a Man Ejaculating
Me: Ooooo-kay?

Q: Do Guys Only Notice My Boobs?
Me: Of course not.  They look at your butt, too.

Q: I Can’t Orgasm With a Partner Anymore

Me: Have you tried two partners?

Q: I Hate Receiving Oral Sex

Me: I cannot relate to this question.

Q: My Boyfriend Doesn’t Know if He’s Gay

Me: If this a dude asking this question, relax, your boyfriend is gay.

Q:I Hate the Way My Boyfriend Dresses. I want to burn his ugly sweatpants, but how do I get the message across to him nicely?

Me: Why?  Were you doing it wrong?

Q: My Boyfriend Wants to Have a Threesome
Me: Well that is shocking…

Q: A Cop Caught My Boyfriend With His Pants Unzipped With Another Woman

And I was the police dispatcher who checked his license!
Me: I believe I summed it up earlier when I said: Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Q: My Boyfriend Wants Me to Stop Drinking
Me: Fuck that guy.  You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life.

Q: I Don’t Like My Boyfriend’s Friends
Me: Nobody does.  They’re douchebags.

Q: My Boyfriend Is a Horrible Kisser. Should I Break Up With Him?

Me: Absolutely

Q: My Boyfriend Checks Out Other Girls
Me: What a stunning revelation that no one has ever brought up before and that I am sure women don’t talk about all the time.

Are The Kardashians Awful?

I’m going to let you in on a little secret.  I think the Kardashians are awful.  No, really.  I do.  I am convinced they are why the terrorists hate us.  Hell, I’m kinda ticked at us for making them famous.  Which of course leads to the question, how they hell did they get famous?  Well, they owe it all to Kim Kardashian’s vagina.  I can’t believe that’s a sentence that now exists.

Okay, so she “leaked” a sex tape.  Who hasn’t?  I mean, is everyone who leaks a sex tape famous?  No, of course not.  If they did, your mom would be swamped by the paparazzi every time she goes to Kroger.  So I watched her sex tape to find out why.  Like eight times.  For research.  Now, I’ve been watching porn for over thirty years, so trust when I tell you, her sex tape is shit.  Complete shit.  A crudely drawn flip cartoon of me masturbating would be a better sex tape than this.

So while we may never know how she got famous (*cough* aliens *cough*), the least I can do is spend an hour watching this show to see if they are as truly awful as they seem.  That’s right, I’ve never even seen “Keeping Up With The Kardashains.”  (Side note, how is her sex tape not called “Keeping It Up With The Kardashians?”)  So I recorded an old epsiode from 2104 entitled “A Surprise Engagement Part 1.”  It’s bound to be riveting.

Here’s my take:

We start with the little one (Kourtney?) and the Shaved Chewbacca (Khloe?) talking to their clothing store manager.  Aaaaaaaaaand Chewbacca just got her hair stuck in a handheld fan.  Well, that didn’t take long.  The meeting is over.  That was like 18 seconds long.  Glad they got everything sorted out.

Jesus.  When do they get interesting?  They’re just talking about how long the little one is gonna breast feed.  (Also, I’m 2 minutes in and I’ve heard “That’s cute!” eighteen times.  It’s gonna be a long ride.)

Now Kim is talking to some dude that looks like the mailman from “Better Off Dead” but he has less character development.

Oh good, they’re talking abut how much baby weight she’s lost and how cute her baby is.  (“So cute!” just took over “That’s cute!”)  So far, so vomitous.

And there’s the mom.  Kim is wonking about packing up her “sunglasses, sunglasses, all my things.”  Ugh.  I may not make it an hour.  I guess she and Kanye and North (eyeroll) are living there?

Now they’re talking about wall paper.  That’s it.  Wall paper.  How is this a thing?

Kim: “You’re going to feel so zen-ed out when you come to my new house.”   Zen-ed out.

This show is 80% awkward, silent glances.  Losing respect in you , America.

The little one is wearing a GIANT gold combination turban/visor.  The fuck?

“Being the third wheel is the new black.” – Shaved Chewbacca

What the fuck?  Does anything actually happen on this damn show?

Goddammit.  Do they have a dog named Gabanna?  Fuck them.

The mom is complaining that she can’t find room in her mansion to be alone.  That just happened.

Sweet damn.  I have never seen this many blank stares.  I feel like they can’t tie their now shoes.

Son of a bitch!  How am I only eleven minutes in?!

So this was back when Chewbacca was married to Lamar Odom.  They’re talking about the impending doom of their marriage.  And they’re bored shitless.  They’re not alone.

They’re eating at a Ruth’s Chris’?  I expected more.

Serious question, on a scale of Ted Cruz to Martin Shkreli, how fucking punchable is Scott Disick?

They are trying to come up with a nickname so they can talk shit about Kim when she’s around?  While I applaud the sentiment, it’s kicking their asses.  They may truly be the dumbest people I’ve ever seen.  They’ve settled on “Nancy.”  Great job, everyone.  You really knocked it out of the park.

Hey, it’s Bruce Jenner!!

He’s talking abou tputting on an “all-Bruce” party.  Goddammit, America, these people are not interesting!!  Bruce isnow looking for his phone.  That was the whole bit.  Like seriously, that’s all that happened in that whole fucking scene.  (In case you’re on the edge of your seat, his phone was in the top drawer.)

So the little one and Shaved Chewbacca are talking shit about Kim and calling her “Nance.”  I’m still bored to tears.  Oh no!  Kim might be catching on!  What’s gonna happen?  Whew!  She didn’t figure it out!  We’re all very shocked.

Mom-dashian is complaining that Kim keeps having work done on her house, and keeps “making doors quieter, and louder.”  My use of “what the fuck?” is going to rival their use “That’s so cute!”

So much drama!  Or at east their would be, but even they’re aren’t pretending to care about this crap.

Shaved Chewbacca has a blanket named Leopard.  That is all.

Wait, I think Shaved Chewbacca is talking on a BlackBerry.  How old is this damn episode?

So Kim is making a phone call, and Mom-dashian starts pretending to make a phone call to annoy her but is just jumping around saying “WOOO!”  If any of these people have a triple digit IQ, I will wet myself.

This show is really quite horrible.

Well, that whole “call Kim Nancy” thing lasted almost a day before they told her.  ZING!  Good one, ladies!

Oh no.  They’ve hurt Kim’s feelings!  Still don’t care.

So Mom-dashian and Shaved Chewbacca are going to Kim’s under-construction house to try and speed things up.  This should be fine.  So.  Nothing happened.  I mean, nothing.  No drama.  No tears.  No temper tantrum.  What the hell was the point?

OK, so I just blanked out for the last ten minutes.  I didn’t fall asleep.  I think my brain just shut itself off for self-preservation.  The show is almost over (thank God).

Apparently they have a brother.  Did we know this?

Well.  That sucked.  Everything about it was awful.  Everything.  Why the hll do people watch that shit?  It’s not even exciting enough to be train wreck.  It’s not even a model train wreck.  It’s more like watching a guy glue fake trees on his model train landscape.  I now hate the Kardashians even more for making sit through that.  I had hoped they’d be super-awful and I could at least enjoy my anger towards them.  But it turns out they’re just awfully boring.

Come on, America.  You’re better than this.

Some Games Are Better Than Others

Yay!!!

Cosmo’s gotta a new “Sex Games” column out.  I’ve missed you Cosmo.  I’ve really missed you.  So here we go – “14 Totally Hot Sex Games You Need to Try.”

Raunchy Retail Therapy

Visit a sex shop or lingerie store together, and tell your partner they can pick one thing they want to see you wear, no questions as asked. Give them an allowance to spend so they stay in your budget, and because you are a grown ass woman who #TreatsHerself. Don’t let them show you what they bought until you get home from the shopping trip. Enjoy watching their jaw drop as they see you walk out in their fantasy get-up.

First of all, I searched Twitter.  There are preceisely 4 Tweets that have ever used #treatsherself.  What you mean is #treatyoself.  Stop being so lazy.  Secondly, his jaw is not going to drop because you walked out in the exact outfit he bought you.  That’s not how it works.  “Oh My Gawd, Babay!!! I can’t believe you’re wearing the outfit I bought you 20 minutes ago and that you took into the bathroom with you after telling me to lay in bed and get ready!”

XXX Marks the Spot

This is like a “guess that number” but with a spot on your body. You keep one particular spot in mind and he has to kiss every part of your body until he guesses correctly. It’s up to you if you want to be honest and tell him he hit the right spot, or let him keep guessing.
Okay.  So.  This one is fine.  Not “Totally Hot.”  But fine.  Question.  What happens when he finds the right spot?  You’re not giving us all the rules.  Is it sexy time?  Or does he go back to playing Mario Kart?

Do as I Say

Make yourself a DIY dungeon master by whipping out a feather duster and a silk tie as arm restraints. BONUS: for the entirety of your “session,” you can only use Christian’s and Ana’s quotes from Fifty Shades of Grey. He’s Ana.
<comic book store guy from The Simpsons>”Um, that’s not what a dungeon master is!</comic book store guy from The Simpsons>  And why is “session” in quotes?  Do you not mean “session?”  If not, what do you mean?  And for some practical advice, he won’t have any idea what the hell you’re talking about if you start using quotes from Fifty Shades of Grey.  And if you genuinely expect him to respond to the quotes with the correct response, well, you’re just gonna be mad.

Strip-Pong

Set up your dining room table like a beer-pong table, but skip the brew: Arrange six 16-ounce plastic cups in a triangle shape at either end of the table, and grab some ping-pong balls. You’ll stand at one end of the table, with your guy at the other. Then take turns trying to throw a ping-poll ball into the cups at the opposite end of the table from you. When one of you scores, the other has to remove that cup … and a piece of clothing. The first person to land a ball in all six cups gets to request a sexual favor of their choice.
You had me until “skip the brew.”  Which, technically, was in the first sentence, so very, very early.    And why would a person even think to remove alcohol from a sex game?  Did you even go to prom?

Pick a Card, Any Card

Start with a deck of cards and assign each suit a different sexy meaning: hearts represent kissing, diamonds equal a massage, clubs are manual stimulation, and spades mean oral. Take turns picking cards from the stack and treating each other to the sexy move you draw. The numbers on the cards represent how long you have to do each action — so if you get the nine of diamonds, he has to give you a sensual rubdown for nine seconds. If he picks the ace of clubs, you give him a one-second hand-job (boo, but hey, that’s the way the cards were dealt).
A nine second massage.  One of Cosmo’s super hot sex games includes the idea of a nine second massage.  And that’s actually one of the longest massages you might get in this game.  Also, um, aces are high, lady.  Aces are high!

Not So Fast

Lie naked in bed and have your guy stand at the doorway to the bedroom. Test how well he knows you by asking him questions about yourself — they can range from sexy (what’s your favorite position) to personal (name your dream vacation spot). For each correct answer, he gets to move one step closer to you; if he’s wrong, he takes a step back. Once he correctly answers enough questions to reach the bed, go at it. The teasing aspect will drive up his lust, and he’ll also learn new things about you.
First off, rename this game.  Telling your man you want to play a game called “Not So Fast” is really starting thing off on the wrong foot.  Second, he’s not going to enjoy being tested.  Here’s how it’s going to go:

Her: When did I lose my virginity?

Him:  Um….16?

Her:  No. I was 18, remember?

Him: Oh, yeah.  Okay, sure.  <takes a step back, loses erection>

Her: Okay, what was the name of my cat growing up?

Him: Jesus, babe.  I don’t-

Her: My parents just had to put to her sleep! I cried all of last week!

Him: Uh……Mr. Bojangles?

Her: What?! It was Lady Meowington! Do you ever listen to me? <starts crying>

How sexy does that sound?  Look, I’ve been married 20 years and I still break out into a cold sweat if I’m filling out an online form that asks for my wife’s birthday.  And that’s just me trying to reset her Ikea password so I can order a new Ooobbolnersin for our Skanvankatin. I can’t imagine how much stress I’d be under if it was about trying to have sex.

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Seven Minutes in Heaven is a step up from Spin the Bottle, but now that you’re not in braces in your parent’s basement, why not make it even dirtier? Set the kitchen timer for seven minutes and then hop in the coat closet together for a torrid quickie. The timer creates a sense of urgency, and the small, dark space makes it feel like you’re doing something forbidden — so hot.

At my age, it takes me longer than seven minutes to go pee.  Plus, have you seen my coat closet?

Reality Show 

You know how you and your guy watch a show together and you really want your favorite characters to have sex? Make it happen in your bed! Doing this bit of specific role play involving the characters you can’t wait to just bone already actually boning already via your boning? Perfection.

“Ok.  You be Ross and I’ll be Monica”

“Eww, they were brother and sister!”

“Stop judging me, Ross!”

“Fine, but after this, I’m Oscar the Grouch and you’re Mr. Snuffleupagus.”

“But Mr. Snuffleupagus was invisible to everybody except Big Bird.”

“I know, babe.  I know.”

Marco, Pol-Ohhhh

The classic pool game is about to get hot as hell. The next time you’re by yourselves in the water, close your eyes, then head in the direction of your guy by following the sound of his voice. Once you catch him, pull your bathing suit bottom aside and go at it.

So, I’m just supposed to stand in the pool with a raging hard-on and just hope someone finds me?  Well, that’s an interesting juxtaposition from 8th grade, when I stood in the pool with a raging hard-on and prayed no one found me.  “I know it’s adult swim time, Mr. Lifeguard!!  Can I have one fucking minute please!?!”

Dare or Dare

Play a game of Truth or Dare, with very little truth involved. Dares can include things like:

  • Talk dirty to me for 20 minutes.
  • Kiss me without using your hands to touch any other body parts (though he’ll want to).
  • Sext me while you’re at work at least once an hour. It’s up to you if you want to keep daring him, or let him take a turn at daring you.

Talk dirty to you for 20 minutes?  Lady, I gots shit to do.

Orgasm Race

Lie side-by-side naked in bed and begin pleasuring yourselves. Whoever comes first gives the other person manual or oral stimulation until they reach the finish line too. The “winner” gets to request a sexy treat next time. (Relationship bonus: Masturbating in front of each other can draw you closer — because it’s normally something you do when you’re alone, allowing another person to watch you makes you feel vulnerable, heightening the intimacy between you.)

Yes!  Looks like we are about to enter into a new era, one where I go un-de-fucking-feated!!!  A masturbation race?  Tell you what, I’ll give you ten minute head start just to so you don’t feel so bad about yourself.

This Is So Wrong

Don’t risk full on public sex, but do test the limits of how kinky you can get outside of your apartments with low-key things like:

  1. Hooking up at in your friend’s bathroom at a house party.
  2. Hook up with the door open while your roommate is home.
  3. Put your hand on his crotch while you’re in a crowded elevator just to give him an idea of what you want to do later.

Alternately, put your hand on someone else’s crotch and make things really interesting.

The Mirror Game

Both of you strip down and sit facing each other on the bed. One of you begins to touch, kiss, and lick different areas of the other’s body, and the other person has to simultaneously touch, kiss, and lick that in exactly the same way as closely as possible. This is also a great way to show your partner how you like to be touched and honestly it’s hot as hell.

So…….69, then?  Ok.  But you know, you could just say it.  We’re totes cool with that.

Mystery Toy

Blindfold your guy naked on the bed and then tease him all over using a series of sexy objects — caress his penis with a silky thong or a simple feather. Have him try to guess what you’re stroking him with, and don’t move onto the next object until he gets it right.

I will only have my penis caressed with a complex feather.  What the hell is a “simple” feather, anyway?  Be ready for this game to take a while.  You may want to bring your phone.

“A pair of underwear?”

“No.”

“A tie?”

“No.”

“Your hair.”

“No.”

“A simple feather?”

“No.”

“The cat?”

“What?  No.”

“Tea cozy?”

“We don’t have a tea cozy.”

“My Limp Bizket concert tee?”

“No.  I threw that out.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“A Swiffer.”

“No.”

“Two Swiffers?”

“No.”

“A leaf?”

“No.”

“A caterpillar?”

“No.”

“Did you just dress up my penis in one of your Barbie’s sundresses?”

 

 

 

 

 

“Yes.”

Why I’ll Survive The Zombie Apocalypse

  1.  Because I’ve thought about it.  Like, a lot.  I try to convince myself it’s research for a book I’ll write one day, but the truth is, I’m just a zombie nerd.  Like a huge nerd.  I own a movie called “Special Dead.”  It’s about zombies invading a camp for special needs people.  I’ve watched it.  It’s still in my collection.  But, if it ever happens, I’ve got a plan.  And because I love you guys so much, I’ll share a bit of it with you.
  2.  I’ve already said goodbye to my dog.  Don’t get me wrong.  She’s a fine dog.  Not a great dog, but a fine dog.  I’ve seen too many movies where some dipshit gets killed trying to save their dog.  That won’t be me.  I’ve even told my wife.  Zombie apocalypse = no dog.  Besides, even though my dog is a decent dog, she’s also a moron.  In the zombie apocalypse, it’ll be crucial to be able to hide from zombies, and other people.  And my dog can’t shut up long enough for that to be an option.  Hell, she barks at me when I’m mowing the grass.  I won’t have her blowing my cover.  So when it begins, I’ll take her outside and let her go.  She’s on her own.
  3.  I’m going to the beach, bitches!  Or more accurately, to Norfolk, Virginia.  By boat.  I’ll head to the nearest port, steal a boat, and head to Norfolk.  See, the Navy should be fine.  They are physically cut off from the apocalypse, and Norfolk is a huge Navy base.  I figure the fleet will head there first, and I’ll be waiting for rescue.
  4.  I know my limits.  For example, if the Navy doesn’t show, I’ll take my new boat and head to the tropics.  I’m no farmer.  I don’t know how to can or jar shit, so I need to live somewhere it’s warm all the time so the plants are always bearing fruit.
  5.  I live in America.  No, no.  Don’t get wrong.  This isn’t some “rah-rah America’s the best!” ideology.  It’s simple facts.  There are a ridiculous number of guns here, making it very easy to defend myself from zombies and mean people.  Also, the obesity problem here will come in very handy.  Zombies aren’t particularly agile creatures.  Morbidly obese zombies should be no problem to avoid.  Win-win.  America!  Fuck yeah!
  6. I’m not a moron.  I love The Walking Dead.  I really do.  But those people are all morons.  Why do they all drive pieces of shit?  That junk RV they drive everywhere?  Go get a brand new one, you idiots.  It won’t break down on you all the damn time.  All their cars are crap.  Go steal a good one, for God’s sake!  That boat I mentioned in number 3 above?  It’s going to be a nice one.  A new one.  I’m not going to bother stealing someone’s ten-year-old pontoon boat.  I’m in it for the good stuff.
  7.  I’m an introvert.  See, a lot of humans need socialization and company and can’t handle solitude.  Please.  Not having to talk to someone for days on end sound like a fucking dream vacation.  I hate people.  Which brings me to number 8.
  8.  I hate people.  But I love my family.  Which means I’ll have precisely zero problem taking out some stranger who’s threatening the survival of me and mine.  Again, too many movies where someone dies because they’re having some moral dilemma or some shit.  I do not foresee that being an issue.

That being said, I will in fact, not survive the zombie apocalypse.  And here’s why:

  1.  As I mentioned, I’m a zombie nerd.  Big time.  As a result, not only will I not survive the apocalypse, I’ll be one of the first to die.  And I’ll tell you exactly how.  When I see a small pack of zombies ambling down the street, the first thing I would do is assume it’s some great cosplayers.  I’ll hand my wife my phone and tell her to take picture.  Then, I’ll run over and put my arms around a couple of the zombies.  They, of course, will eat me.  And there’ll be photographic evidence of it.
  2.  I am blind as a bat.  Seriously.  So, if I’m wearing my contacts, I’ll have to make a special trip to my house to get my glasses.  (I told you I’ve thought about this way too much.)  Special trips increase the likelihood of my demise.  Even if I am wearing my glasses, they won’t stay on very well in combat situations and as soon as I lose/break my glasses, I’m screwed.  I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a zombie and a crepe myrtle.
  3. Camping is not my bag.  And by “Not my bag,” I mean I can’t do it.  Starting a fire without a lighter and store bought fire log.  Unlikely at best.  Sleeping on the ground?  Nope.  Here’s the problem with that.  I currently have a “Sleep Number” bed.  It is the only bed I can sleep in and be able to move in the morning.  So if I have to sleep on the ground, or hell, even someone else’s bed, I’m screwed.  I’d be physically unable to fight off zombies unless they were willing to give me an hour or two to warm up and stretch.
  4. I live in America.  We got guns!  Galore!  So even if I survive all of the above (and I won’t), I’ll definitely get shot by some idiot who thinks I’m a zombie shuffling down the street, when in reality I’ve just lost my glasses and my back is killing me from sleeping in a Ramada Inn.
  5. I hate people.  Strangers in particular.  I really, really do.  It’s going to be damn near impossible for me team up with group of people for the sake of survival.  I’ll eye-roll and “Jesus Christ” my way out of the group in under a week.

Jesus Is Totes Cool With Doggy Style, You Guys

In my never-ending search for stuff to make fun of, I ran across christianfriendlysexpositions.com.  That’s right, Christian Friendly Sex Positions.  Dot com.  I probably would have gone with a .edu, but that’s just me.  Christian Friendly Sex Positions hails itself as the “#1 clean sex positions resource.”  I couldn’t find out whom #2 might be, probably have to check Mitch McConnell’s browser history for that one.  (Zing!  See, I can do political stuff, too.)

Like any rational person, I had to ask myself, what the actual fuck is a Christian friendly sex position?   Is it anything where you can watch Kirk Cameron’s “Fireproof” while you’re doing it?  Or more importantly, what are the non-Christian friendly positions?  Because, let’s face it, those are probably more fun.  Turns out, those are the guy-guy and girl-girl positions.

Also, it’s important to note that their sex positions “are described in a Christian-friendly way” and “are described using easy-to-follow descriptive text written in a marriage-centered way.”

O-kay.

AND they’re presented with totally non-offensive illustrations.  The names alone are simply wonderful, and quite frankly, I am mad I didn’t come up with them.

Let’s explore, shall we?

Let’s start with the “Are Those Colored Contacts?”  Yep.  Here it is. Are Those Colored Contacts Sex Position Illustration

I really, really want to know the story behind that name.


Or how about the “Breakfast at Tiffany’s

Breakfast At Tiffany's Cunnilingus Position Illustration

Oh I get it!


Or the always popular, “Cather in the Pie.

Cather In the Pie Sex Position Illustration

I’m not gonna lie, I only clicked on that one because I thought it said, “Catheter in the Pie” and I wanted to see how that got illustrated.


Maybe try the, “Chimney Sweep.

Chimney Sweep Sex Position Illustration

Nevermind.  If it doesn’t involve me wearing a top hat and calling my wife “Guv’ner,” I’m out.


How about the “Cinema Stroke?”

Cinema Stroke Fellatio Position Illustration

I’m not even gonna tell you what it is.  That illustration is awesome.


Um, the “Doctor Scholl’s Day Off?”

Dr Scholls Day Off Sex Position-illustration

I got nothin’.


How ’bout the old “Dublin Shuffle?”

As popularized by St. Patrick?


Let’s try the “Ear Muffs.”

Ear Muffs Cunnilingus Position Illustration

Gah!  What the hell is going on?  I think I saw Rowdy Roddy Piper do that to Hacksaw Jim Duggan once.


Or the “Edward Scissorlegs.”

Edward Scissorlegs Sex Position Illustration

That’s a damn suplex!  I know I saw Rowdy Roddy Piper do that to Hacksaw Jim Duggan once.


Let’s just go with the “Foot in Mouth.”  Seems pretty straight forward.

Foot In Mouth Sex Position Illustration

Or not.


The “Glowing Triangle,” perhaps?

Glowing Triangle Sex Position Illustration

I don’t think that’s how you do sex…


Ah yes, the old “Grinding the Corn.”

Grinding the Corn Sex Position Illustration

Um….how is that not missionary?  Are they laying on dried corn to make corn meal?  Great, now I want corn bread.  Thanks a lot, Christian Friendly Sex Positions.


Let’s move on to the “I’ll Be Back.”

I'll Be Back Sex Position Illustration

So it has nothing to do with “The Terminator?”  Next.


The “In Her Face?”

In Her Face Fellatio Position Illustration

Yeah.  Well.  That pretty much sums it up, alright.


Or the racist “Indian Headstand.”

Indian Headstand Sex Position Illustration

That is neither Indian, nor a Headstand.


The “Lamaze Coach?”

Lamaz Coach Sex Position Illustration

What kind of Lamaze coach did these people have?


I am definitely trying the “Licking the Flag Pole.”

Licking the Flag Pole Cunnilingus Position Illustration

That was not what I was expecting.


Maybe try the “Magic Mountain.”

Magic Mountain Sex Position Illustration

More like “Magic Mountin’,” am I right?


The “No Elbows On The Table?”

No Elbows On the Table Sex Position Illustration

Well, shit.  If I’d have known etiquette school was like that, I’d have gone.


Or the “Packing the Suitcase.”

Packing the Suitcase Sex Position Illustration

How is this one NOT butt stuff?  It’s called “Packing the Suitcase!”


Well, I didn’t expect to see this one here.  “Peg.”

Peg Sex Position Illustration

Yeah.  That is not pegging.  No, you Google it.


Moving on.  The “Perpen-Dic-Ular.”

Perpen-Dic-Ular Sex Position Illustration

Wait.  Why did they spell it like that?


Um, the “Restaurant Attendant?”

Restaurant Attendant Sex Position Illustration

For when the wait list is really long?


Go for the “Sidekick.”

Sidekick Sex Position Illustration

Oh.  I thought it’d be where you have a friend who’s not quite as good at sex as you are tag in once in a while so you can catch your breath.


Or the “Southern Exposure.”

Southern Exposure Fellatio Position Illustration

“Getting Into the Southern Exposure Fellatio Position:

  1. The husband lies on his back with a pillow under his head.
  2. He brings his knees up to his chest and spreads his legs a little.
  3. His wife kneels before him.

How it’s done: The wife stimulates her husband with her mouth.”

I guess they “accidentally” left out the part about her pinky in your butt.


Then there’s the “Super 8.”

Super 8 Sex Position Illustration

<rodney dangerfield> Hey! If I had a “Super 8” I wouldn’t be looking at sex positions on the internet! </rodney dangerfield>


Under The Cuckoo’s Nest

Under the Cuckoos Nest Cunnilingus Position Illustration

If you’re calling it the “cuckoo’s nest,” maybe buy her a trimmer for Valentine’s Day.  Just sayin’.

Farewell, Mrs. Brady

With the sad news of the passing of Florence Henderson – who played Carol Brady, my 3rd favorite TV mom behind Ann Romano and Alice Hyatt (don’t judge me) – I feel I had to find a way to pay homage to her work.

But then I remembered I don’t do “homage.”   So, in lieu of an homage, I’d like to put forth ideas for Brady Bunch episodes I wish had been.

“Shovels Ahoy!”  –  Jan is (finally) learning how to drive.  But one day, she takes the car without permission to go to a boy’s house!  As luck would have it, she hits a hobo on her way back home and pulls into the driveway with his corpse sticking out the windshield.  Can the kids all band together and get the body buried before Carol and Mike get back from the farmer’s market?

“The Doctor Is In”   After he walks in on Greg doing some under-the-shirt-over-the-bra stuff with the class slut, Bobby decides that he and Cindy should play “doctor” to see what all the fuss is about.  Mike walks in on them in the laundry room and beats them both with his belt until he sprains his wrist.  But the wrist sprain nearly costs him a big job when he can’t complete the drawings in time.  Looks like everyone learned a lesson this week!

“A Little Case of the Sniffles” –  Between baseball, school work, and his paper route, Peter has bitten off more than he can chew.  So like any 12-year-old, he starts doing cocaine.  Gobs and gobs of cocaine.  His dealer fronts him “enough to get him through regionals” but when Bobby can’t pay, he gets beaten after school.  His only solution is to steal money from Alice’s purse.  As he rifles through it though, he finds her .38 special.  When he goes to meet up with his dealer, he puts three slugs in the guy’s chest.

“A Swinging Good Time” –  Familiarity (and six frigging kids) have taken their toll on Mike and Carol’s intimacy.  They find the solution when the new neighbors invite them over for a key party.  Their new found zest for living backfires however, when Marsha and her boyfriend show up at a swingers’ party Mike and Carol are hosting at the local adult theater.  Mike sees Marsha from across the room, but before he can get to Carol, he finds that the boyfriend is next in line at her glory hole.  Oops!

“The Over/Under” –  Sam the Butcher’s shop is having a rough go.  A new “supermarket” has moved in around the corner and is stealing his business.  To help make ends meet, Alice starts running an illegal sports book out of the Brady’s house.  Everything’s going great until a huge upset in the World Series leaves her over-extended.  In order to pay off the bets, she and Sam burn his shop to the ground for the insurance money.

“Welcome Back” – Things get tricky when Carol’s husband comes back from the dead.  Turns out, he’d faked his death to get away from the suffocating responsibility of three daughters.  He threatens to weasel his way back into the girl’s lives unless Carol gives him $250,000 in cash.  Mike says they don’t have that kind of money, but Carol confesses.  She and her ex had stolen almost half a million from a Moroccan drug dealer when they were on their honeymoon.  The money is stashed under the dog house.  They pay him off and he disappears before the girls suspect anything.

“Candid Camera” – Suspicions arise when Cindy comes home one day with a brand new bike.  Peter figures something is up when she buys a new pair of roller skates a week later.  He corners her that evening, holding the red hot poker from the fire place an inch from her eye until she confesses.  She’s been taking naked polaroid pictures of Jan and Marsha and selling them to the boys at school.  Peter says he wants in on the action.  Cindy agrees and tells him she has a big order from the glee club who are looking for pictures of Greg in the shower.  When he tries to get the pics, he drops the camera in the toilet.  Oh, Peter!

“Kidney Pie” –  Greg’s band, “Brownie and the Po-Boys,” book a gig at a bar in Tijuana.  Mike and Carol refuse to let him go and he moves out of his sweet pad over the garage and onto Big Papa’s (the bassist) couch.  They go to the gig anyway and Greg starts doing tequila shots after the show with one of the local girls.  The rest of the band wants to leave but Greg refuses, sensing that he is about to get lucky.  An argument ensues that results with Greg staying in Tijuana with the local girl, slamming shot after shot.  The next day, he wakes up in an ice-filled bathtub missing a kidney.  He’s forced to call Mike and Carol who give him a big fat “told ya so.”

Cosmo, why hath thou forsaken me?!

Well, now that it appears Cosmopolitan Magazine is out of the horrible sex advice business, I’ve had to look elsewhere.  Luckily, we live in the golden age of the internet, where just about any idiot can have his own website.

Wait a minute…..

And that’s the story of how I stumbled upon this little article, “33 Seriously Naughty Questions That’ll Turn You BOTH On.”  Oh yeah, now we’re talking.  You can tell it’ll be quite ribald because it says the questions are seriously naughty, naughty enough to turn on both the asker AND the askee!  Let’s do this!

(Sidenote: starting a “naughty session” with a guy by saying “Um, I have a question” is NOT the way to go.  But let’s see how this plays out.)

1. When is the last time you’ve had a dream about me?

“Oh, all the time, babe!  All the time.  I never dream about your sister.  Swear to God!”

2. If I could only wear yoga pants or short skirts for the rest of my life, what would you choose for me?

“Yoga pants.”

“Oh yeah? Why?”

“Cuz if all you wear is short skirts, you’d never shut up about being cold.”

3. Guess what color underwear I’m wearing?

“That’s not a question.  Putting a question mark at the end of an imperative sentence doesn’t make it a question.”

4. What’s the naughtiest thing you’ve ever done?

“Stabbed a hobo in Lubbock for $300 bucks.  Is that the seriously naughty question?”

5. What’s your most hardcore fantasy?

Him: “Oh, I don’t know, babe…”

Her: “Come on.  If you don’t tell me, it’ll never come true.”

Him: “I really don’t-”

Her: “Don’t you love me?”

Him: <sigh>  “Fine.  I’m tied up on the bed…”

Her:”Ooh, I like where this is going.”

Him: “Mmm-hmm.  And you’re doing a little strip tease…”

Her: “Go on…”

Him: “And just as you get naked, your friends, who are they, Bethany and Crystal?  The ones we met at the James Blunt concert you made me go to?”

Her: “You mean, Heather and Tina?”

Him: “Sure.  Anyway, they come in, and you all wrestle to see who gets to give me the first blow job.  Well, obviously, it ends in a tie and you all have to blow me at the same time.  Then, while I’m recharging, you three go at it and I watch.  Then, Heather takes a – Hey, where you going, babe?  Babe?”

6. Have you ever said someone else’s name during sex, instead of the girl you were with?

“I have a strict policy of only saying my own name during sex.  You know that.”

7. What’s the most sensitive part of your body?

“My heart.  Definitely my heart.  Oh, and my taint.  Stop ignoring that, please.”

8. Have you ever dated two girls at the same time?

“Not same time enough, if you know what I mean.  What?  Why do you keep leaving?”

9. Have you ever been caught masturbating?

“No, dammit.”

10. Have you ever had sex outside?

“Sure.  I refuse to take my slumpbusters home.  I’m not an idiot.”

11. Have you ever used a sex toy in bed?

“Freshman year of high school I fucked the arm pit of a Teddy Ruxpin.  Does that count?”

12. When was the last time you masturbated?

“Well, it wasn’t 20 minutes ago, I can tell you that!”

13. If you could only have one type of sex for the rest of your life, what would you choose: oral, anal or regular?

“Anal.”

“You only get to pick one – ”

“Anal.”

“I mean, for the rest of your whole – ”

“Anal.”

14. Hair down there or all bare?

“Me or you?”

15. What’s your favorite sex position when I’m on top?

“Reverse cowgirl.”

“What about when – ”

“Reverse cowgirl.”

“But if we – ”

“Reverse.  Cowgirl.”

16. What’s your favorite position when you’re on top?

“Reverse cowgirl.”

“That’s not – ”

“Reverse.  Cowgirl.”

17. Do you prefer me wearing makeup or none at all?

“Reverse cowgirl.”

“That wasn’t even the question.  Would you please stop watching football?”

18. Do you sleep in pajamas, underwear or nothing at all?

“We’ve been dating for over a year and you don’t know this one?”

19. If you could only ever sleep with one celebrity, who would you choose?

“Will Ferrel.  That’s a funny mother fucker.”

“I said, sleep with.”

“I’ve made my choice.”

20. Have you ever felt jealous when you saw me talking to another guy?

“I feel like you want me to say yes.”

“I want you to be honest.”

“Do you? Cause we tried that with the question about my fantasy – why do you keep leaving?!”

21. Would you be angry if you saw me making out with a really hot girl?

“Oh, hell no!  In fact, I’m down for anyone above a 6.”

22. Of all the things I’ve done with you in the bedroom, what’s your favorite?

“Remember when you let me sleep in the day after the Super Bowl?  Babe!  Babe, I’m kidding!”

23. Have you ever woken up beside someone you regretted sleeping with?

<muttering> “I’m beginning to regret…”

“What’s that?”

“Not that I can think of.”

24. What’s more important … boobs or butt?

“I feel like we covered this one already.”

“We’re not doing butt stuff!”

“Then why do you keep bringing it up?!”

25. If you could choose between me being slightly overweight or slightly underweight, which would you choose?

<feigns a stroke>

26. Have you ever woken the neighbors because you were so loud in the bedroom?

“Yeah, when I was putting together a new dresser from Ikea!  Hi-yo!”  <swings invisible golf club>  “Seriously, babe, if you keep walking off, you’re gonna hit your FitBit goal in, like, no time.”

27. Have you read 50 Shades Of Grey? If so, did it turn you on?

“Well, as I am not a bored suburban housewife, no I did not.”

28. Have you ever had sex in public?

“I got a handjob in the undercarriage of a parade float once.  Does that count?”

“I guess.  Wait, when was this?”

“Long time ago, babe.”

“Who was it?”

“Nope.”

29. Do you like it when I’m the dominant one in bed or do you prefer leading things?

“Damn right I do!”

“Turn off the fucking TV!”

30. Have you ever had anal sex? How did it go?

“It’s like you’re not even paying attention.”

31. When was the last time you went to a strip club?

<shudders>  “Eww!  A strip club?  No thank you!”

“It’s okay if you’ve been to strip club…”

“Nope.”

32. Do you think you could give me an orgasm by only touching my breasts and kissing me? Would you like to try?

<begins taking his shirt off> “Now we’re talking!”

“No!  We’re just asking questions right now!”

33. Do my feet turn you on?

<puts shirt back on>

 

I don’t know about you guys, but I am REALLY turned on right now!

Boyfriend Material

So Cosmo’s been really slack about providing me good stuff to make fun.  It’s really quite selfish of them.  But they’ve bounced back a bit with this article:  “25 Signs He’ll Be A Good Boyfriend.”  On the plus side, none of these signs included “having a lot of money” or “being well-endowed,” so I still have a chance at being a good boyfriend.  I just don’t think my wife would like it….

 

1. He asks about how your friend Becky is doing after her breakup. 

“Hey, Babe.  What happened with Becky?  They broke up?!  Oh no!  Was it cause she won’t do threesomes?  Or better yet, because she wants a threesome and he wouldn’t go for it?  Even if she’s just down for a devil’s threeway?  What?  Why are you mad?  I’m just asking about your friend….”

2. After he met Becky for the first time, he was like, “Do you think that went well?” 

“Sooooo, that Becky’s pretty cool, huh?  Yeah…..so like……are she and what’s his name still broken up?”

3. When you bring up that your boss is being rude to you at work, he doesn’t sigh and roll his eyes because you’re “complaining again.” If he can’t sit through a five-minute tirade about a lame work situation, he won’t be able to sit down with you when something seriously big goes wrong. 

Yeah, because listening to someone bitch for the thousandth about how fucking Roger in Accounting won’t refill the coffee pot when takes he last the cup means they won’t be there when an actual, for real problem arises.

4. He’s polite to waiters and cashiers, and doesn’t do that awful thing where you yell, “CHECK, PLEASE,” across the restaurant. 

Don’t date an asshole.  Got it.  Thanks, Cosmo.  You’re real fucking helpful.

5. He doesn’t desert you at his friends’ parties. It’s OK for him to encourage you to be friendly with his friends, but it’s not OK for him to have an exclusive conversation with Chad while you sit alone awkwardly on the couch.

Hey, maybe you should find out what Chad’s been going through before you get mad about this.  Maybe Chad just lost his job and his fiancé dumped him for her Guatemalan yoga instructor.  I mean, probably not.  Chad’s probably just talking about the time that cougar gave him a handjob in the TGI Friday’s bathroom.  Classic Chad!  But still, you don’t know.

6. He always offers to share the last slice of pizza with you and then doesn’t say anything when you “accidentally” eat way more than half of it. If the last slice is sacred enough for Drake to rap about it in a love song, (“You could have my heart or we could share it like the last slice“) then it must be a real sign of a potentially great romance. 

Okay, when did fucking Drake become the go to reference source for what love looks like.  Also, who is this Drake fellow?  Is he one of the those hippity-hop people the kids are always talking about?  And if so, is it safe to assume he fucked Kim Kardashian?  (She’s still a thing, right?)  Plus, pizza comes in even numbered slices.  Always.  So you will each have the same number of pieces.  Every time.  It’s simple fucking math, people.

7. He doesn’t manspread across your entire schedule and take over your whole world. 

Look, if you’re going to use a term that doesn’t actually mean what you are implying it means, use fucking quotes.  Like this, “He doesn’t “manspread” across…”  Because “manspread” refers to a man who spreads his legs unnecessarily wide in order to take up more room on a bus or train seat.

8. He’s genuinely interested in (or at least good at faking it) your long, rambly stories about family vacations you took as a kid. Instead of getting frustrated and impatient when you talk for 10 minutes about that one weird trip you went on in 2007, he’s excited to hear about what happened after that fight you had with your little brother in the backseat of the family van.

Ha!  All he heard was that you had a story about something crazy you did in the back seat of a van.  That look on his a face is disappointment.

9. He doesn’t get upset when you say you need some alone time. 

Well, since he uses the phrase “alone time” to mean watching porn and masturbating, he’s gonna assume you mean the same thing, so now he’s using his “alone time” to masturbate to the thought of you watching porn and masturbating.  Oh, did I just ruin something for you?

10. He never says things like, “You’re being crazy,” or, “You’re being ridiculous.” 

But what if you actually are being crazy?  “No, Beth, I can assure your cat is not Hitler reincarnated.  Your cat’s just an asshole.  You’re being crazy.”  Or what if you are being ridiculous?  “What?  You think I have a crush on Becky?  The one with the great rack, 3 gigs of lesbian porn on her laptop and an ass I’d like to wear as a hat?  You’re being ridiculous, babe!”

11. He makes you feel like a hot babe all the time. You don’t want to spend a significant amount of time with a guy who makes you feel insecure or question whether or not he’s attracted to you.

So, once again, no assholes?  Ok!  Thanks again, Cosmo!  <sprains eyeball tendon rolling eyes>

12. He has female friends who aren’t just a collection of women who’ve seen his penis before. 

Or maybe he’s just a champ at getting friendzoned!  Also, there’s no way you’ll ever get suspicious of how much he talks to Jessica.  “We’re just friends, sweetie!  (Until she lets me touch her butt.)  You’re being ridiculous!”

13. He gets really excited when you hit it off with his best friend Jason, just like he knew you would. 

Like, REALLY excited….

“Have you ever heard of an ‘Eiffel Tower?’  Yeah, I had to look it up too, after Jason told me about it.  You remember Jason, right babe?”

14. You don’t find a million texts and missed calls on your phone from him after spending a night out with your girlfriends. 

Gah.  Like you didn’t have your phone on you while you were out with your girlfriends.  “I was so worried, I had to sext – err, text – Becky to make sure you were okay!”

15. He doesn’t try to act hard and pretend he doesn’t have feelings when he’s around you. Mature adults shouldn’t be afraid to say things like, “I like you,” or, “I think you’re really cool.”

“I think you’re really cool.”   Mature adults don’t say that.  I mean, I say it, but I have the emotional IQ of the average 8th grader, so I’m not a good litmus test.

16. He texts after work to see how that meeting with your boss went.

“How’d the meeting go?”

“Good, thanks.  I think we’ve got a really good plan-”

<dick pic>

17. He doesn’t rush you out the door when you’re trying to make sure your lip liner is perfectly applied and not smudged. He might do a little bit of gentle ribbing about how slow you are, but he shouldn’t shame you for taking your time and trying to look good. That’s rude.

I fell asleep reading this one.  Three times.

18. When he screws up, he’s quick to apologize instead of letting you stew in your anger for a week and a half.

The general rule is to let someone stew for 2-3 days, max.  Duh….  Typically over the Call of Duty Double XP weekend.

19. And when you screw up, he doesn’t hold a grudge forever like a sullen teen named Todd. 

Fucking Todd.

But now I want to know what Todd did to this writer to make his name come up.  I bet he started rumors about her after she wouldn’t let him do any under-the-shirt-over-the-bra stuff at the Sadie Hawkin’s dance.

Fucking Todd.

20. He has interests and hobbies aside from dating you. You want to date a person, not a prepackaged boyfriend. That gets so boring so fast. 

“You wanted me to have outside hobbies, babe!  My hobby just happens to Becky!  Bendy, bendy Becky……. This is on you, really.”

Also, what the actual fuck is a “prepackaged boyfriend?”  Seriously, I’m trying to figure it out…

21. When you’re hanging out, he talks about things he wants to do with you in the future, even if it’s just the near future.  

<cough> Butt stuff <cough>

22. He doesn’t immediately start acting like your boyfriend after hanging out one time in a friend’s backyard. 

I bet it was Fucking Todd again.  Take the hint, Todd!

23. He sends a “Hey, I had a lot of fun” text after hanging out with you. 

Bonus points if he wrote “Hey, I had a lot of fun” on his dick and sent you a pic.  How romantic is that?

(Update:  According to my wife just now, not very romantic.  Sidenote, anyone know how to get Sharpie off of your….um…..person?)

24. He’s clear about his intentions early on, instead of leaving you in “Is he a hookup or a boyfriend?” limbo for forever. 

His intentions remain getting you and Becky to agree to a threeway.  Men really aren’t that hard to understand.

25. He gets excited about showing you things he likes.

You do know that getting “excited about showing you things he likes” means you’re about to watch his porn collection, right?  Some he stars in, some he just uses for “research purposes.”  Also, probably some nudes of Becky.

Miscellaneous Song Crap

Today, we’ll be investigating some song lyrics, perhaps making them better (unlikely) or ruining them for you (more likely).

Let’s begin, shall we?

First up, Mr. Neil Diamond and “Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon.”  Whenever I hear this song, I picture Neil, on the verge of deflowering some girl who is obviously making poor life decisions.  He’s just finished the second encore (Neil Diamond always brings it, dammit) and now he’s back in his dressing room, hovering over this young lady, sweat beading on his forehead, a single drop clinging to the end of his nose, threatening to jump.  A stained, sequined shirt hangs over the back of the armchair in the corner, tossed in haste as soon as the door closed behind him.  The entire room swims in a fog of Ben Gay and Drakkar Noir, and just as he’s about to complete the act, he looks down at her and says, “Girl, you’ll be a woman soon.”

Benny Mardones – “Into The Night”  – Let’s just point out the opening lines:

“She’s just sixteen years old
Leave her alone, they say”

So yeah, it’s a love song about the teenager he can’t bone.  And, for the record, this is Benny Mardone:

http://wac.450f.edgecastcdn.net/80450F/nj1015.com/files/2014/02/Benny_front-630x551.jpg

Not okay, Benny.  Not okay.

The Lennon Sisters – “Tonight You Belong To Me”

Here they are:

See, old people are always telling us that things were simpler in their day, more innocent.  And I assum I’ll do the same myself one day, sitting in my old age home yelling at the orderly how back in my day, we had to fight, fight I tell you, for our right to party! and if you don’t like it, you can just get the hell out of my room, Marcus!  Anyway, I am here to call bullshit on this innocent thing.

“I know (I know) you belong
To somebody new
But tonight
You belong to me

<snip>

My honey I know
With the dawn
That you will be gone
But tonight
You belong to me”

You know what this song is people?  It’s a fucking booty call.  She (probably drunk) texted her ex (who’s in a relationship) trying to score some D.  Plus, she knows he won’t even be around in the morning.  Innocent times, my ass.

Okay, this next one I couldn’t find the title or info on, but I swear I heard it on the radio.  I was too stunned to do anything.  I think it’s from the 50s or maybe early 60s.  It’s from the point of view of the father telling his son not to fall for this “Indian girl” and in fact to stay away from her altogether.  The song reaches its climax when the father must eventually explain why.  Well, it turns out, that some time ago, the Indian tribe in question had scalped and killed the father’s only son, and so, out of revenge, the father stole the Indian chief’s son and raised him as his own, and he’s telling the kid he can’t marry that “Indian girl” because she’s his sister.  I shit you not.  What the fuck?

It seems Sheena Easton is a lazy asshole.  Calm down and I’ll explain using the lyircs from her hit song “Morning Train.”  To start:

“My baby takes the morning train
He works from nine to five and then
He takes another home again
To find me waitin’ for him”

What?  No job, Sheena?  The song doesn’t mention kids, so she’s just lounging around all day.

“He takes me to a movie or to a restaurant
To go slow dancing, anything I want”

What about what he wants, Sheena?  What about what he wants?  Is there a song out there about some dude who busts his butt all day to support his girlfriend but he’s cool with it because she does anal and threeways without hesitation?  Cause then it’d be okay.

“When he steps off that train, amazingly full of fight
Work all day to earn his pay, so we can play all night”

You know that mother fucker just wants to go to sleep early, just once, instead of taking her ass out dancing.

“Say Has Anybody Seen My Sweet Gypsy Rose?” by Tony Friggin Orlando

“We were very happy
Well at least I thought we were
Can’t somebody tell me
What’s got into her
A house, a home, a family
And a man who loves her so
Who’d believe she’d leave us
To join a burlesque show?”

The whole damn song is about a guy looking for his wife (and presumably mother of his kids) who left them and moved to New Orleans to become a stripper.  Spectacular.  And just look at him.

The hair, that ‘stash, those teeth.  He had no choice but to become a 70s heartthrob.  It was that or magician/serial killer.  Good call, Tony.  Good call.

A Cautionary Tale…

I wish I had kept the letter I got from the Department of Philosophy and Religion when I changed majors to Philosophy (from Aerospace Engineering – I was an endless river of good decisions in my youth).  It read half like a sales letter, insuring me that companies LOVED Philosophy students because they knew HOW to think.  Try to guess if that’s true.  I may as well have been a fucking English major for all the good it did.  (Pipe down English majors, you know it’s true.)  But none of that mattered, I was going to go to law school or maybe get my PhD and teach.  Turns out, law school is expensive (who knew, right?) and grad school is very hard to get into especially if you spend your first two freshman years beating your GPA to a bloody pulp.

So plan B.  Get a job.  Ugh.  Well, step one was to keep my job washing cars at a rental car agency.  This was important because your landlord does not give a shit if you’re a college grad.  So that was fun, but I was raking in over $5.25 per hour.  No, no I wasn’t.  I was raking in exactly $5.25 an hour.

Obviously, I moved back home pretty quickly.  But I still needed a job.  And after a month of not, I finally landed something.  I was the new Lube Tech at Jiffy Lube!  It’s not as much fun as it sounds.  But at least I had to leave off my degree from the application as I had learned from previous misses that these low-end gigs aren’t gonna hire someone with a degree.  Now I was making a whopping $5 per hour.  Bit of a set back, but as my mother had set my rent at $0 a month, it worked out.

Four weeks into my position there, I was promoted to Assistant Manager!  You can’t stop the success train!  So with my 50 cent an hour raise in hand, I set out to take the rapid lube world by storm.  Of course, my alarm failed to go off the next morning and I was late too work.  No big, the manager was cool so I wasn’t worried.  Except that I got there, and it turns out he had quit the night before.  And some big wig was there with a truckload of management trainees so they could learn how to open a store.  From me.  Who was late.  And had never opened a store before.

Anyway, the best part of the job was that it was right next door to a liquor store, so every night, after everyone had gone and I was left to do lube-related paperwork, I would go next door, get 2 airplane bottles of bourbon and have a sit-down.  This was also the job that taught me customer service was not my bag.  After suffering the slings and arrows of an unjustifiably angry suburbanite, I snapped.  I looked her straight in the eye and said, “Ma’am, I need you to get the fuck out of my store.”  I left the rapid lube biz shortly thereafter.

What I left for was the fast-paced world of automobile recycling.  Which is to say, I took cars apart in a junk yard.  But, I was up to $7 per hour!  Cha-ching, bitches!  You start to rethink some choices when you are laying under a 1987 Ford Taurus in 35 degree rain and hoping that they guy operating the forklift doesn’t forget that you’re under there.  You start to rethink more when you get home, spend 30 minutes washing transmission fluid out of you hair, and then write your student loan check.

Nine months later, I got a call from a company I had sent my resume to the year before.  An interview for a management training program!  Which is code for warehouse labor.  But it was raise.  And indoors.  So off I went.  I languished in the warehouse for a couple of years, partly because I refuse to go work at the sales counter.  (Remember the suburbanite from Jiffy Lube?  If you think they’re bad, try a pissed off plumber who’s been standing in a septic tank all day.  They’re real good at cussing.)  Eventually I weaseled my way into a job in the purchasing department.  Truth be told, if it weren’t for my boss, a milque-toast of a wanker, it would have been a good job.  I bought shit for a living.  Sales people called me and kissed my ass and took me out to lunch.  All in all, pretty good.  Except for my boss, who didn’t like the fact that I would leave my desk to find out why the computer showed we had 1000 of something, but no one could find them.  He told me to stay at my desk.  Period.  Despite the fact that I could my job in about 3 hours a day.  He didn’t care, which led to me falling asleep at my desk several times a week.  He somehow managed to ruin a job where people had to kiss my ass all day.  Think about that.

My next job was back in a warehouse at a company called Frischkorn, I suppose because I lacked the aplomb necessary for a white collar position.  No surprise there, really.  Somehow though, I kept getting dragged into meetings with the president of the company, where my honesty was not seen as “refeshing.”  In fact, I do believe he had precious little appreciation for a warehouse guy who kept telling him his plans wouldn’t work.  (In my defense, I was right.  Which I think made it worse.)

Obviously, my career at that company was not going to go anywhere, so I interviewed with a company to do software training.  Hey!  Now I’m getting somewhere!  I get to use my brain!  And they offered me a pay cut of over $10,000 a year.  I actually laughed at the guy.  Out loud.  Pretty hard, too.  I was the picture of tact.  So back to the warehouse.

That was where I was when my son was born and I transitioned flawlessly into stay-at-home daddy-dom.  But more importantly, in one of my final acts at the job, I managed to convince the rest of the guys in the warehouse to pose for a “Boys of Frishckorn” calendar that I then distributed around the company.  It even made it’s way to corporate headquarters where someone hung it in the copy room for all to enjoy.  It may be my greatest job-related accomplishment.  I have included it below.  You’re welcome.

 

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