10 or 11 Ways to Drive Your Man Wild in Bed

I was in a doctor's office waiting room the other day. Or, maybe I was getting my oil changed; I don't remember exactly. Anyway, there was one of those so-called "women's" magazines on the table there, and emblazoned across the cover was the caption 101 Ways to Drive Your Man Wild in Bed. So, I flipped over to page 238, and there in between an ad for laundry detergent and a scratch and sniff thingy for perfume was the article. I admit, I didn't read all the items, but I read enough to know that none - and I emphatically mean none of these suggestions would drive any man "wild" - unless he'd been marooned on a deserted island or something and hadn't actually seen, smelled, or touched a woman in several years. There were things like strip poker and making a bra out of Fruit Roll-ups and such. I checked the by-line, and sure enough - the article was written by a woman. Which is kind of like having a large-mouth bass write an article on the best fishing lures to use. I mean, the bass knows the best lures to use, but do you think he's going to tell anyone?

I hope the analogy isn't lost on the reader.

In any event, no one can stick with anything long enough to do 101 of anything, so following are 10 or 11 sure-fire, slam-dunk, lead-cinch-lock ways to Drive Your Man Wild in Bed:

* Wait until the night before he leaves town on a business trip. Tell him you're having your girlfriend over the following evening, you're staying in, and getting really, really drunk.
*Tell him you've been thinking about doing that thing he really wants you to do. And, you're going to have to think about it some more. A lot more.
*Tell him your girlfriend told you she did that thing he really wants you to do with her boyfriend, and she didn't like it.
*Eat corn chips. Loudly.
*Wear the sexiest lingerie you have to bed. When he notices, bolt upright and say "I feel like such a tramp".
*Practice the kazoo.
*Come to bed in a pair of frumpy flannel pajamas with your face covered in cold cream. Ask him if he's "up for it".
*Wear the sexiest lingerie you have to bed. When he notices, bolt upright and tell him you think your yeast infection is back.
*Wait until he's almost asleep and start humming Don't Worry, Be Happy under your breath.
*Tell him you've been thinking about doing that thing he really wants you to do, and you've decided you'll do it. But, before he can touch you, you burst into tears, run to the bathroom, slam the door loudly and sob uncontrollably until he's asleep.
*Wait until he's almost asleep and whisper in his ear that you've been having an affair with his boss, or brother, or best friend. When he bolts upright in bed, remind him he still hasn't fixed that leaky faucet.

Well ladies, there it is. No need to thank me; your satisfaction is my reward.

Things That Really Bug Me: Volume One

"Easy-open" packaging:
Is there a more Orwellian misnomer? "Easy open"? If you consider requiring the use of a blow torch, a jackhammer and the "jaws of life" to get into these things easy, then I guess it is. Personally, I miss the days when things were so poorly packaged the bag would come open before you could get it home from the store. Just the other day, I stopped in at a convenience store to gas up, and picked up a bag of salted peanuts. After several minutes of unsuccessfully trying to rip the bag open (and chipping a tooth in the process), I threw it on the ground, ran over it with my car six or seven times until it was mashed into a finely granulated peanut dust, popped my hood and snagged the corner of the bag on my radiator cap. Of course, it was totally inedible at that point, but hey - it's the principle...

Four-way stop signs:
Question: If four cars meet at a four-way stop sign at the exact same instant, which one has the right-of-way? Most Popular Answer: The one in the biggest hurry. Actual Answer: No one knows! All four drivers just sit there looking at each other with that far-away, doe-in-the-headlight hypnotic gaze trying to telepathically play rock, paper, scissors to determine who goes first. I have an idea to deal with this quandary: the newest car goes first. In case of a tie, the most expensive newest car goes first. Of course, all drivers would have to keep their sales receipts and registration cards over the sun visor, so they could quickly snag and wave them out the window should the situation arise.

Carrot cake:
I'm a firm believer that it should be illegal to make a cake, pie, or any other pastry out of vegetables. Don't get me wrong, vegetables have their place. And it's waaaaaaay over on the corner of the plate where their repulsive vegetable juices can't touch, and thereby adulterate tasty foods. Vegetables certainly do not belong in cakes. Of course, carrot cake apologists always say (in a very whiny, nasally voice) "but you can't taste the carrots". Which begs the question: then why put them in there? So, here is my recipe for carrotless cake:

1. Make a cake
2. Don't put carrots in it

Cutesy cell phone ring tones:
Seriously. If I have to hear Redneck Woman, Bartender, or that drunken "rannng, rannnnnng" one more time, someone is going to the emergency room.

Instant "celebrities":
The term celebrity is generally taken to mean a person of distinction or renown. Not anymore. These days, anyone who manages to get their mug on any of the estimated 1,037 "reality" TV shows, or smashes their Mercedes-Benz into a fire hydrant on Hollywood Boulevard is deemed to be a celebrity. They can't sing, dance, juggle or engage in a coherent debate on any subject other than the hottest new shades of lip gloss, but we - in our insatiable thirst for chuckleheads to admire and emulate - are creating them by the thousands.

Bugs:
Yeah, I know they have their place in the food chain or whatever, but I say let's get rid of 'em all and see how it goes.

This Blog For Rent

Face it - just about everyone has been affected by the recession (except maybe liquor distilleries and Las Vegas call girls). New Mothers are selling their breast milk on the internet, retirees are making birdhouses in their garages and selling them at flea markets, and unemployed investment bankers are doing double duty working the drive-through at Burgeriffic and preparing tax forms for five bucks a throw. Well, I'm not immune to the "economic downturn" either, so I've been forced to resort to drastic measures. That's right - starting immediately, I will be selling ad space on my blogs.

I know what you're thinking. I can hear the catcalls and venomous cries of "sell out". Well, it's not like that. First and foremost, I'm not selling space to just anybody. I mean, it goes without saying you'll never see an ad for one of those trashy "hook-up" outfits posing as a dating service. And, you can rest assured I won't be doing business with those so-called "payday lenders", and you can absolutely rule out-

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-those ambulance-chasing personal injury lawyers. I mean, how do those guys sleep anyway? Lots of Xanax, I'm thinking. You know, I'm going to stick with honest, legitimate businesses. I'd like to pull in some local ads, you know, like maybe a dog grooming service, or some of the more established businesses. I mean, I do still have my integrity. And, how would it look if you were to open my blog and see an ad for-

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-some shady, fly-by-night snake-oil peddling cretin trying to separate you from your hard-earned cash? It would look bad for me, that's how. And I'm simply not going to stoop to that. No sir!

When you think about it - there's nothing wrong with advertising. I mean, how else are you going to know about the various products and services available if no one advertises? And, I don't have to tell you, ads are everywhere these days. We're bombarded with them! Just the other day I passed a guy on the street wearing a baseball cap with a "Your Ad Here" placard taped over the Braves logo. And you know what? His rates were very reasonable. So, if anyone knows of a business looking for some affordable ad space, have them ping me. But, please - don't send me just anybody. Like I said - I do have my standards, and I'm not going to lower them just to make a quick buck. The good news is that I've already gotten a couple of nibbles. I'm negotiating with that guy running the fruit stand down by the railroad tracks, and a nice elderly lady that has-

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-converted a spare bedroom into a craft shop, where she makes little ceramic figurines and butter dish cozies and such. I know there's really not much of a market for those things these days, but hey - allow an old woman her dreams, huh? I see the so-called "cottage industry" making a comeback soon! And we should all make a point to try and keep the money here at home, instead of sending it to some-

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-overseas conglomerate. In the long run, it'll benefit us all.

Well, I guess that's it. Just do me a favor and keep your eyes and ears open for anyone looking for a real deal on advertising.

Oh, and one more thing. Have you taken a good hard look at your wireless bill lately?