Posts Tagged ‘advice’

Having sex in a motel room is not precisely a new idea, I'm given to understand, but one can always learn a few new tricks. Sure, you could do it the way your parents did – checking in with that vaguely guilty look (even if they were married at the time), washing up separately, laying a towel down to keep the sheets clean and avoid embarrassing the maid, having furtive and quiet sex so the equally-shameful people next door wouldn't hear, washing up separately again, and then either watching a movie so it wouldn't be so obvious they were there just to have sex, or going to sleep so they could wake up 300 times in the middle of the night before finally getting up at 6:30 in the a.m., sore and miserable. Good times.

But why limit yourself to that, fun though it may be? You've just paid someone a wad of cash to borrow their room for a while. Enjoy it! Here's some tips: Read the rest of this entry »

Monday night Teres and I celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary in a singularly appropriate manner – by eating a lot and making fun of things.

We went to the Colorado Fondue Company in Casselberry to happily gorge ourselves. I confess to an ulterior motive: as long as I've known her, as much time as we've spent together, I've never managed to coax that specific sound of utterly satisfied delight that she emits when she eats a strawberry dripping with Amaretto chocolate.

When we arrived there Teres proved once again how well suited we are – she presented me with a present (a magnetic happyface that plays "You Are My Sunshine") and this month's Cosmo for us to make fun of while waiting for our food. It was time well spent. I no longer believe it is possible to think up parody versions of Cosmo articles that are stupider or funnier than the real ones. I'm not sure exactly what values they're going by these days, except for the ones that state "The article better mention sex, no matter what it is, especially if it's on the cover". Hell, Playboy even has non-sex articles occasionally. But anyway…

Looking through the Cosmo and reading the articles on "What You Wish Your Man Knew" and "Secrets Your Mom Never Told You" and "What the Hell is That Thing on His You-Know, Anyway?", I thought about the things I've picked up during my relationship with my ladylove. Oddly enough, none of them ever show up in any of the glamour magazine articles…

• It is not only possible to be both utterly dependable and completely unpredictable, it is essential. She must be able to trust in you and rely on you, but she should never really be sure what you're going to do next. I find that bringing dinner home unexpectedly or carefully covering her in feathers while she's asleep helps accomplish this nicely.
• I really can't stress this enough – problems that blow up during her period are still problems. Once I dismissed something she said just because "she was on her period". Once.
• Do what your lover asks for, even if they were kidding. Especially if they were kidding. A month ago she was heading out for groceries and asked if I wanted her to bring anything back. I aimed my attentions at her chest area and nodded happily. Two hours later she came back and presented me with the groceries and a pair of mismatched silicone bra inserts. I love her.
• There's a little girl or boy somewhere behind those eyes, and they like attention on occasion. Tuck her into bed, give him a GI Joe for Christmas, serenade her by playing "Truly, Madly, Deeply" on a Fisher Price piano.
• Do not ever use roll-on body glitter on each other an hour before you're to have dinner with her mother. Really.
• Always call. Call when you're late, call when you're early, call for the hell of it, call because you were fantasizing about her at work and you just need her to say the words "faster, Hector, faster" to cap it off.
• Make fun of other people. It's great fun and it helps cement you together, in a sort of "us vs them" kinda way.
• Don't be afraid to go over the top. Be wildly romantic. Don't be afraid to flatter her or treat her like royalty in front of your friends. She deserves it and, if you need a more pragmatic reason, remember that she'll sleep with you and your friends won't. You should develop a romantic style appropriate to your personality (mine is a cross between Don Juan Demarco and Groucho Marx; think of Gomez Addams without the latino thing) but the cool thing is if you do it long enough, it becomes second nature. Which leads to…
• Aspire to be pussy-whipped. It should be your goal, your final achievement. Admit it, if she'd do the monkey thing with you whenever you wanted then you'd do anything for her, right? Do it first. Guys tend to lean towards the theory that "if she gave me some once in a while, I'd be nicer to her". Read this along with me: "She might give you some if you're nice to her". In that order.
• Worship each other. Being pussy-whipped only works if it goes both ways (well, you know what I mean). He really should be the most important thing in your life, just as you should be the most important thing in his.
• Learn to appreciate her interests, no matter how lame they are.
• You can look at all the other women you want, just mock them when you do so. "Look at that one, you know she bought those titties cheap!" Meanwhile you get to get a good look together. It's a bonding moment.
• Be fair. Don't ask her to do anything you're not prepared to try yourself, even if it's specifically against the laws of god and man.
• When she mentions a store and you tell her something like "maybe we'll stop by there tomorrow", make sure you remember that you said that. Otherwise you'll wake up the next day expecting to sleep late and then play basketball only to find that she's already up and ready and has planned her whole day around the promised event, including travel times and lunch schedule. Follow through on your promises or don't make them.
• Grab a towel and bring it to bed before you get started, you'll appreciate it later. If you forgot, then whomever ended up on top has to get the towel.
• Learn to give back and neckrubs. More importantly, learn to give them without giving in to the irresistable impulse to grab her hooters. You can do that later, when she's relaxed and can't stop you.
• When you make sly and witty comments about oral sex, she knew what you meant. She's just ignoring it and hoping you'll forget. Let it go for now.
• Before beginning a romantic interlude with your lover, be sure to give your dog a rawhide chew.
I can only hope that these tips help others as they've helped me.

Friends and neighbors, I am here to tell you of a social evil so chilling, so widespread, that most people don't even realize the dangers involved.

I am speaking of the term "sucks."

Now I want to stress that I have no problem at all with that word being used correctly, to mean to draw something in by or as if by suction, as in "she sucks harder than the bilge pump on the Titanic." This is fine and good, and I approve it whole-heartedly, especially if I know that from personal experience.

But more and more of late I have heard the word "sucks" used as a term of disparagement, to imply that something is of inferior quality ("this administration sucks!") or to be repellent ("rap sucks!") or to express contempt ("recapitulationary theories suck!"). Since the early 1900's such phrases as "sucks to them" has been popular, a forerunner of the current "sucks to be you." Painful events were considered "sucky" (possibly because they caused one to suck in one's cheeks). And finally, today, it has become so widespread that the word "sucks" can be used on children's programming ("Bert, you suck!").

It has even developed degrees of badness. Witness the many variations and conjugations that have sprung up:

suckadelic Something that sucks. Example: "That undescended testicle is so suckadelic!"
suckage To express extreme displeasure at the situation at hand. Example: "Oh, total suckage! You were that close to making it to the bathroom!"
suckalicious It sucks to an alarming degree. Example: "Bummer, man, that tapeworm is suckalicious."
suckfarm To suck in a major way. Example: "Suckfarm! It bit my other leg off!"
suckfest Something that sucks deliberately and for an extended period of time. Example: "The Protestant Reformation was one long suckfest."
suckitude A measurement of how much something sucks. Example: "The suckitude of that malignant tumor is beyond belief!"
sucktacular Something that sucks so much that all other forms of "suck" are insufficient. Example: "That televangelist is seriously sucktacular!"

Note that there are no minor degrees of "suck." Either something that sucks is really bad, or it's much worse. And even that wouldn't bother me – language changes, English more than most. But this one bothers me, a lot.

See, I've always considered "sucks" to be a good thing. A thing to treasure. If I describe my wife as "suckalicious" or "suckadelic" I am offering the highest of praises. And I sincerely hope that at least once in my lifetime I am privileged enough to attend a "suckfest."

Why are we allowing that most hallowed and desirable of actions to be used as a derogatory term? Do you want the lovers you meet to have the subconscious certainty that "suck" equals "yuck?" It's enough work just convincing them that sucking is good in the first place, without making it tougher for everybody. Personally, if my wife ever develops the notion that "sucks" is solely a bad thing, I'm going to come out there and beat the crap out of each and every one of you. I'll certainly have enough nervous energy for it.

Let's restore "sucks" to the noble height it deserves. Avoid using it in such a cavalier, dismissive manner. Don't let your kids use it, refuse to allow coworkers to use it in your presence, ban it from your partner's vocabulary unless it's meant as a kind offer or urgent demand. Spread the word, Stop Saying "Sucks"!

Hell, why not take it the other direction? Start using "sucks" to describe something inutterably good. "That hot fudge sundae really sucks, Emily!" he said happily. Turn it into what it deserves to be, the highest accolade you can give. You'd want to find the lover that sucks the most, wouldn't you? Why not extend that to everything else? The suckiest movies of 2002. The most sucktacular job you've ever had. The Academy Award for the Most Suckitude by a Supporting Actor. Tell someone you love that they suck, and make them feel proud of it. Take a stand now, while there's still time, and make a difference that can result in deep satisfaction for all of us. Spread the word! Tell your friends! Go door to door, it's legal! Set up a stand outside the local grocery store and hand out pamphlets. We have to save this wonderful word from falling, irrevocably, into despair.

Because to let it go would make a sadder world for us all. And that would really suck.

As anyone who has ever ripped off a wild impromptu sex act standing up in the men's room of the Jefferson Memorial (third stall from the door) can tell you, sexual lubricant is an important thing.

We all know it's nothing to be ashamed of, most everyone needs to help Mother Nature out a bit, and you can't hold out and pray for a midnight visit from the K-Y fairy. Sexual lubricants have been traced all the way back to the dawn of man. It was discovered (and consequently hushed up) that the remains of the oldest known human "Lucy", discovered by Lewis Leakey, was found to contain traces of tree sap in her bikini zone, suggesting age-old techniques or else something really disturbing about Lewis Leakey. The Orient has tales of silent geishas who would sneak in unnoticed and lubricate their foes in the night. Courtesans in the French Court were known to use rose water and ambergris to cover for both inadequate slippery qualities and to cover the stench. And every schoolchild knows about the famous sex goo solutions sold during the days of Wyatt Earp and Wild Bill Hickock (Granny Pinkshaw's Patented Defrictionizing Balm, "As Sold to the Crowned Heads of Europe" (motto: Do Not Eat)).

Seasoned lovers know full well that applying lubrication can easily become an exciting part of love play all by itself. Whether it's a suave and almost unnoticed swipe from the tube or a long and lingering application, just seeing your glistening fingers approaching can be enough to drive your lover into fits of ecstasy, which is certainly a time-saver. I tend to approach the whole thing a bit differently.

Sure, anybody can squeeze a tube. Can't you think of more imaginative methods than that, methods that will signal to your lover that you are a unique and possibly dangerous individual? I can.

Squeezing the tube – if you gotta do it, do it big time. Don't just squeeze off a fingerful, fire off the whole thing. Lube is cheap, use the tube. Or buy it and transplant it to a more interesting (or more useful) container, such as a turkey baster, a restaurant ketchup squeeze bottle, a bellows, a grease gun, a cake decorator (especially if you use the little flower-shaped nozzles), or an old-fashioned oil can (great for those "Dorothy and the Tin Man lost in the woods" fantasies).

Juice from Above! – then there's the delivery system. Watching a worm of paste come out of a nozzle into terribly exciting, really. How about using water balloons? Or a SuperSoaker? Get a bucket of Wet and use a big whitewash brush, or a huge sponge, or just dump the bucket on the desired location. Maybe a #2 artist's brush for the detail-minded, or the old-fashioned way – by hand, by skilled Amish craftsman, as God intended. Install a specially-designed overhead sprinkler system for intimate gatherings, with settings for "spray", "gush", "inundate", and "water torture drip". Or make an intricate, copper-tubed and gear-driven Rube Goldberg device that takes up the entire bedroom and delivers Astrogel with pinpoint accuracy. Use a funnel. Use a specially-prepared and very carefully targeted mortar round. If you're really into the anticipation aspect of sensual delights, place frozen cubes of baby oil where you want them to go and then wait.

Go for the grand gesture - Then there's the showboating methods, the ones that involve larger production, planning, timing, and outside help. Here I'm thinking of firefighting helicopters, pumper trucks, crop-dusting planes, that sort of thing. Look for ways to lubricate everyone in the immediate area as well as your own true love. Have a cask of Liquid Silk carbonated, shaken, and take into the middle of the party before you open it; your guests will be well-lubed for weeks afterwards. Pre-soak about twenty foam pillows in olive oil, distribute them, then whack the nearest person over the head with yours and let the games begin! Kid's outdoor toys are good – whirling sprinklers, funky hoses, and the giddy joys of a Kama Sutra Oil of Love-filled Slip 'N' Slide cannot be overstated. Have a seance to summon the lubricant elementals and then shove a stick of butter up there while the lights are off. Perhaps a dunking booth full of Astroglide, for that carnival feel. Pour 330 gallons of lube into a child's wading pool, get in and let the laws of fluid dynamics work for you. For the truly enlightened and stinking rich, consider designed a carefully re-engineered water theme park.

My favorite – BSoak a large blanket in a bowl of heated oil and then run it up and down her body for that "King Kong tongue" sensation. Done properly, she'll worship you. Or at least the blanket.

Next week – how to dismiss the lubricant elementals in case you accidentally summon them for real and now need to get rid of them before they finish greasing up Montana.

There's something special about sex out-of-doors. Whether it's an act of mystical sensuality under the stars in the middle of a vast sylvan wilderness or a quick boink in the back of a crowded subway car, outdoor lovin' can add a special excitement to the old in-out in-out. But, I beg you, please observe some basic, common sense rules when you decide to rough it.

• Unless you're completely comfortable being nude in the great outdoors before the eyes of hikers, tourists, passers-by and spy satellites, wear clothes that can be pushed out of the way rather than removed.
• Never, never, never wipe yourself up afterwards with any three-pronged leaves. Trust me on this.
• Train yourself to scream out the names of local sports teams during climax, so that when you're whomping away under the bleachers or beneath a big lap-blanket people will think you're just really enthusuastic. Read the rest of this entry »

The time has come, the walrus said, to honor your love and cherish your lover. More than usual, I mean. Valentine's Day was dropped down to us from the Roman's feast of Lupercalia, later named for a Christian priest named Valentine who continued to secretly officiate at Roman soldier weddings despite Claudius II's decree against it (and got beheaded for it, on February 14) and currently memorialized by expensive gifts and gangsters shooting each other. Sigh.

What does this usually mean to you? Well, usually it means either angst as you try to deduce what your loved one really wants for Valentine's Day and they won't give you any hints because they're busy trying to figure out what to buy you. Or it means shrieking panic as you realize it's February 13 and the only candy left is either the $200 boxes or the $2.99 pink boxes of M & M's at Walgreens. Or worse, tragically, it means nothing to you. Foo on you.

I love Valentine's Day. I love any excuse at all for going over the top in my romantic life. Valentine's Day, birthdays, anniversaries, the nights the chicken didn't thaw, whenever the internet connection is busy… The great thing about it is that if you do it often enough you'll start to live that way all the time, and that's a blast. A true Hoot Islander should always be ready to dress formally, spats and tiara, to go to Taco Bell. But why stop there? Here's some Valentine's day suggestions. Anybody can do the boring old diamond thing, have some fun with it.
Have an intimate dinner with your loved one(s) at a local fast food restaurant. You may want to clear it with the manager first, but then you'll lose the fun of freaking out the people working there. Send out engraved invitations, request RSVP's, pay a kid to wear a vest and park your car (ideally where it can be found again). Hire another kid to seat you and take orders. Many of the fast food restaurants have play areas these days, plenty of room for dancing. You might even take some time to print up menus – just translate everything into French.

Go out and play. Really. My wife and I were out wandering through Walmart one day and found their discount makeup section. We picked up some especially tacky marked-down colors of lipstick and I started making jokes about making her into a geisha girl. Next thing I know we've spent 2 hours and $25 picking out purple blush, bizarre stick-on nail decorations, leopard-skin hair things and an interesting hair dye. At some point it had become an obsession as we moved on to a nearby Goodwill where she found an elegant evening dress and heels while I picked out a tux that fit perfectly if I didn't try to button it. We headed home and Teres began working with the face goo while I climbed into the tux and tried to explain to the kids why we were getting so dressed up when we weren't going back out. At this point I'm supposed to tell you how it was a magical night of sensuous pleasures and role-playing, but actually we acted like kids through most of it and laughed through all of it.

Take her to a playground at night and push her on the swing. Sneak him out to where you used to skinny-dip years ago and see if you get caught this time. Go play miniature golf and take your driver. Stick a canoe in the bathtub and go on a fearsome Amazon adventure.

If your loved one is the greedy sort, buy something really expensive and hide it in the house somewhere. With luck you can get the place cleaned up before it's located (Gee, it might be under those dirty dishes!).

Go out to dinner and tell different waiters or waitresses different stories. Tell one it's her birthday, tell another it's your anniversary, tell the manager you're getting it's your wedding night. The trick here is to see how many times you can get them to sing to you. Try to get 4 or 5 of those little cakes brought to your table. Ah, amoré!

Go out and do something you've never done. Go ice-skating for the first time. Go roller-blading. G'head, you'll heal! Take dance lessons, practice first-aid on each other, get uv'ed and go to a rave.

Spend the entire day avoiding the spoken word. Communicate with gestures, meaningful looks, and pointing a lot. Writing notes is cheating. You may find yourself giggling a lot. it can also lead to some really enlightening sex, or possibly some form of expensive counseling.

Turn the bedroom into the perfect love nest. Stick up centerfolds on the walls, use strobe lights, install a handy gumball machine. Resheet the bed with bubble wrap. Fill the closet with popcorn. Get a couple of huge helium ballons to keep by the headboard; some timely inhalations can help create some rather disturbing chipmunk love.

Turn the lights off in the house and keep them off for the duration of the evening. No candles, no lamps, no matches. No tv. Take the bulb out of the refrigerator. Put tape over the numbers on the microwave. You may not want to combine this with the silent day previously mentioned; you might have a wildly romantic dinner without noticing your lover isn't home yet.

Ah, Mother's Day. I'm sure that all of you spent yesterday honoring (and possibly creating more) mothers. The mothers that borne you, the mothers that raised you.

The mothers that burst in on you and your blossoming love life at every opportunity.

I miss those days. It lent an exciting twist to the act when we knew we could get caught at any moment. And the extremes we went to! Furtively going at it standing up in the closet, on the floor between the bed and the wall, alongside the dresser. We honestly believed, drunk with hormones, that as long as we weren't in direct sight of the doorway then my parents didn't have a clue. I'm certain they never once noticed me climbing out of my bedroom window, carrying a blanket. That time that Dad came home early and me and Teres were sitting stiffly side-by-side on the couch, clothes sticking to our wet bodies and steam pouring out of the bathroom – well, he didn't suspect a thing. No way.

Of course, as the father of a teen I can see right through my own son. It's pathetic.

So I thought it might be helpful to provide some hard-earned tips for sneaky sex that can be used in any situation where fear of discovery os a strong factor. Here we go:

• You can be heard through all forms of drywall. Even insulated. Really.
• Zippers, pulled up quickly, are not forgiving.
• If there's one thing that Ally McBeal has taught us, it"s to always, always, always lock the bathroom door.
• Bathroom tile does not muffle the noises, it makes them echo.
• The worst thing about fitting rooms is not the teenage girls giggling outside the curtain, it's those damn little pins all over the floor.
• Your wife knows exactly which perfume she wears, what color lipstick she likes and what color hair she has. More importantly, she knows which ones she doesn't.
• Truckers can see your head, where your legs are and what you've got plugged into the cigarette lighter.
• Motel desk clerks often run license plate numbers for fun.
• Theater seats fold up at the worst times.
• Remember, the orderlies come around every half hour.
• Always check to make sure you got ALL the copies you made on the copier after hours, unless your career really would be advanced by having your ass e-mailed worldwide.
• Sex in the classroom after school works a lot better when you remember to take all your clothes home with you afterward. Trust me on this one.
• It takes a highway patrolman approximately 21/2 minutes to run your number through his computer. Use them wisely.
• Not only will the cabin attendants know what you're up to the second you two sneak off to the can, they'll tell the pilot to aim for an air pocket.
• Husbands who have had vasectomies are unreasonably suspicious when they find condoms in your purse.
• DJ's always know which songs play long enough.
• Roll-on glitter won't come off quickly, even if you use your car keys to scrape.
• Moms know what vibrators are. The "portable radio" thing doesn't work.
• Giving head to one of the other hostages is just going to draw attention to you.
• Your roommate won't really believe that when you screamed "Take it all, you vestigial bitch!", you were just watching "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?"
• Skin-tight leather pants are a bitch to put on while running. Especially if you're being shot at. During a thunderstorm. Across a railway trestle. While carrying a heavily-sedated ocelot. I mean, I've heard that.
• You don't have to be famous for someone to steal your home movies.
• Cab drivers can often provide useful contraceptive tips.
• Your dad knows exactly why you've been in the bathroom so much lately. He's logged an awful lot of hours in there himself.
• During your bachelor party, try to avoid nailing anyone who's actually in the bridal party.
• There isn't as much room under a newscaster's desk as you'd think.

Valentine's Day! Most romantic of holidays, a day (and night) to celebrate the powerful relationship you've forged, with hard work, love and communication, with your significant other(s). Sure, it's a combination of several pagan holidays and Roman bacchanalian celebrations hammered together and relentlessly pushed at you by soulless corporations to sell greeting cards, candy and roses, but is that any reason not to go with it? Love it up!

However, there are those of you who will be alone on this day. You may be single, or widowed, or your lover may be unavoidably occupied very far away. Many of you feel Valentine's Day to be a mockery of your solitude, an insult added to your injury. I say thee nay! Valentine's Day is meant to be a celebration of love eternal, no matter what your immediate social situation may be. Spend it with the one you truly love! The one who will never leave you, no matter how bad things get. The one you can say anything to, the one you can touch wherever and whenever you want without fear of awkwardness or misunderstanding, the only one in the world that truly understands you and loves you anyway. Your dog.

For those of you who have no pets, spend the day loving yourself. Take a 24 hour period and cherish yourself the way you were meant to be. Learn to love the person who truly owns your heart.

Read the rest of this entry »