I wanted to talk about sex and females. Now that I have your
undivided attention with subject matter, let’s get down and dirty, if you will.
First, let me educate the males in our lives. I will be careful to
use analogies that you can follow easily, things like sports and/or food.
I feel that the man in my life should know more about my vagina
than my OB/GYN does, and not need a manual and/or road map to manage it.
He should have all the top-secret Intel to access my vault, and the
know how to score a touchdown without the coach having to call the plays.
I know some of you are squeamish when it comes to running
different plays, but please get your fingers into it; sometimes they do more
than the cocker spaniel does.
I know Cosmopolitan always has some type of sex issue just about
every other month, written by woman, about how to please your man…but what
about Playboy doing an article for the men, letting them know how to please us?
Men, it can only help you in getting a leg up, pardon the
pun, and making the overall experience more enjoyable for all those involved.
Let’s also touch on the human anatomy a bit, like for example, a
woman’s putty tat.
It needs to be stroked, licked and caressed…just as if it was a
bucket of chicken wings, you understand what I’m saying gentleman?
Just like preparing the team for a big play on the field, you must
turn on the oven to warm it up, if you catch my drift. You can’t just pop it in
like as if it was a toaster and expect good results.
You also need you men to work up and work out, to last more than a
quarter of the first half; we can’t have you running to the locker room right
after the kickoff.
We females do not need minute rice or a two pump chump up to the
plate, we need a homerun hitter. We need it to last longer the commercials
for the super bowl.
If you take the time, and put the game in over time I am sure your
lady will reciprocate in return, trust me I’m speaking from experience.
We don’t want to bench you guys, but gosh darn it we will if need be, we want
you to get into the game and become the mother fracking MVP of our
vaginas.
I know you males can get into squabbles on the bench, thinking of
ways to make us gag on your sausage and/or not scrape it with our teeth while
trying to swallow your sword. We promise to practice with popsicles and Pop
rocks if you will.
I want be your cheerleader and shake my pom poms for you, but like
Pink says, “it’s best just give me a reason”.
I will blow your whistle like Flo Rida says, but only if you dine
on some fine seafood.
So load up on some Gatorade and take a 5 Hour Energy, because you
are going South on this putty tat and making it go crazy with a leg shake.
From my soap box…
7D
We’ve all been on the road one time or another when some
assclown was making life miserable for the rest of us. We were just motoring
along minding our own business and jamming out to some Pat Benatar when this
poor excuse for a driver comes our way.
I don’t know about you, but lately I have felt like a
ticking time bomb with a timer that’s about to expire when dealing with these
bastards. I really wish my car horn
would shout out obscenities when I slammed on it, that way I wouldn’t get
hoarse from yelling at them.
I have come to conclusion that certain people have either
bribed the department of motor vehicles or have gotten faulty/corrupt driving
test, or as my mother used to say, “They got their license from a box of
Cracker Jacks”. These are the drivers you just want to hit with a stale loaf of
French bread...repeatedly.
Some people would categorize drivers as either offensive or defensive,
but I believe there should be a few more categories, like for example…
Dysfunctional Drivers - these bastards cannot handle standard
operating equipment, like blinkers.
Turtle Drivers - these are the drivers who are out for that
preverbal Sunday drive or have no sense of urgency to do anything other than
hold all us other drivers up.
Ego Drivers - these are the loud car folks, the people with
the mufflers, engines and/or music that is blaring and rattling so loud that
all us other drivers can do nothing else besides pay attention to them. Ego Drivers can also be seen sporting obnoxious
rims and/or jacked up tires.
Delusional Drivers - these
are the people who cause most of the trouble on the road, but feel as if you’re
in the wrong when you shoot them the middle finger and/or lay on you horn.
Barbie Bitch Drivers - these are the wannabe makeup artists
who flunked out of beautician schools and prefer to try to perfect their skills
when they’re driving to Wal-Mart…thinking the parking lot to the front door is their
own personal runway.
Disney Drivers - these are the people who are just plain GOOFY…nuff’
said.
Trophy Hangers - these are the drivers who hang anything and
everything from their rear view mirror…whether it’s their girls G-string panties
or a shitty cd letting you know what country they are from, or pretend to be
from…all this crap blocks their line of sight making them swerve all over the road
like as if they were drunk.
Fat Feet Drivers - these are the speed demons, the infamous
lead foots. Their big heavy feet glued to the gas pedal like as if they were in
the movie Speed, always in a rush to go nowhere fast.
Driving Miss Daisy Drivers – these people aren’t just
driving Miss Daisy, they are Miss Daisy. They are older than dirt, their vision
is about as good as a bat’s and their reflexes are as sharp as a spoon, but yet
they are still allowed on the road.
There are some others, but these are the most annoying…at
least for me.
Aside from the categories listed above, that “drive” me nuts,
I also like to partake in some on the road people watching, like for example…
People at stoplights …when I’m practicing my stalking
skills, I find myself watching them as if I was watching a good movie. I watch
them talk with their hands with their windows up, and pretend to know what they’re
saying; I play my own version of Mad Libs on the road.
I also see them
sometimes even picking their nose, knuckle deep in their nostrils, like as if
they were digging for gold. All I have to say is I would hate to be their
steering wheel and/or the valet.
I sometimes wish there was a Facebook status bubble over
these people’s heads so that I would know what they were thinking when they did
the crazy crap they did…it would make for such an entertaining drive.
From my little soapbox-
Seven D
I wanted to talk about sex and females. Now that I have your
undivided attention with subject matter, let’s get down and dirty, if you will.
Let’s also touch on the human anatomy a bit, like for example, a
woman’s putty tat. 
I know you males can get into squabbles on the bench, thinking of
ways to make us gag on your sausage and/or not scrape it with our teeth while
trying to swallow your sword. We promise to practice with popsicles and Pop
rocks if you will. 
