For Women: Dating and Men

Why Women Should Never Take Men Shopping

2010-01-21T00:55:00.000-08:00

After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on her trips to Target. Unfortunately, like most men, I
found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out. Equally unfortunate, my wife is like most women - she loves to browse. Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter from the local Target.

Dear Mrs. Samuel,

Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against your husband, Mr. Samuel, are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras.

1. June 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other people's carts when they weren't looking.

2. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute
intervals.

3. July 7: He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the
women's restroom.

4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, 'Code3 in Housewares. Get on it right away'. This caused the employee to leave her assigned station and receive a reprimand from her Supervisor that in turn resulted with a union grievance, causing management to lose time and costing the company money.

5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms on
layaway.

6. August 14: Moved a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.

7. August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department to which twenty children obliged.

8. August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?' EMTs were called.

9.September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.

10. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.

11.October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the 'Mission Impossible' theme.

12. October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his 'Madonna look' by using different sizes of funnels.

13.October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through,
yelled 'PICK ME! PICK ME!'

14. October 21: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed 'OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!'

And last, but certainly not least:

15. October 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile, then yelled very loudly, 'Hey! There's no toilet paper in here.' One of the
clerks passed out.

BBQ RULES

2009-09-08T11:53:00.000-07:00

We are about to enter the BBQ season. Therefore it is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of
this sublime outdoor cooking activity.

When a man volunteers to do the BBQ the following chain of events are put into motion:

Routine...

(1) The woman buys the food.
(2) The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables, and makes dessert
(3) The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging beside the grill
(4) The woman remains outside the compulsory three meter exclusion zone where the exuberance of testosterone and other manly bonding activities can take place without the interference of the woman.

Here comes the important part:

(5) THE MAN PLACES THE MEAT ON THE GRILL.
(6) The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery.
(7) The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is looking great.

He thanks her and asks if she will bring another beer while he flips the meat.

Important again:

(8) THE MAN TAKES THE MEAT OFF THE GRILL AND HANDS IT TO THE WOMAN.

More routine...

(9) The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauces, and brings them to the table.
(10) After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.

And most important of all:

(11) Everyone PRAISES the MAN and THANKS HIM for his cooking efforts.
(12) The man asks the woman, how she enjoyed her night off and, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there's just no pleasing some women.

Online Dating Advice for the Modern Woman

2009-09-05T13:21:00.000-07:00

Online Dating Choices

These days, every girl could use some online dating advice. After all, the internet can give you nearly anything these days, even great dates. Of course, there are some people who still prefer traditional dates. They feel it’s always best to actually see and touch their people. Nonetheless, dating through the net is gaining popularity for many reasons. It’s a convenient, thrilling experience and can save you from the embarrassments that can happen in traditional dating.

Whatever your reason though for getting into internet dating, you should listen to good online dating advice. Although traditional dating has its risks too, the virtual version can have other risks and issues you may not be familiar with. If you aren’t careful, you could put your safety in jeopardy. Here are a few good tips to keep in mind:

• It’s best to find out what you want out of online dating. You’d think this is a no brainer but it isn’t as simple as you think. You’d want to find out if you are only on the online scene to find a fling or a real life partner. Setting your expectations and goals can help put direction to your interactions and to your date choices.

• One common sense online dating advice is to join a reputable dating service. You would want one that can provide great features but at the same time can keep your personal information safe and secure. You can search for independent testimonials and reviews to find the best service providers. Chances are, if a site is no good, it will get negative comments from dissatisfied users.

• Don’t reveal too much about yourself on initial interactions. In other words, you can give your name but you should probably keep your credit card number and your exact home address a secret to potential dates. Shady or malicious characters can also populate dating sites. Try to get to know your date first before revealing more about yourself.

• A non-traditional online dating advice is to use your common sense and gut instinct. You may have a feeling that the person you are talking to is not who he says he is. You may also have a bad feeling about a person that you just can’t explain. These are early signs that further interaction may not be a good idea.

• Be honest with the details that you can afford to reveal. You should for example show your real picture, indicate your actual profession and list your true interests and hobbies. No one wants to find out later on that you’ve put on just too much gloss on your profile. This is a key secret to having a successful internet dating experience. It’s easier for everyone when people are honest up front.

• Obviously though, sensible online dating advice will tell you that people on the other end of the line may not be truthful. If people can lie on actual dates, the more so on online ones. Always maintain a healthy ounce of suspicion on your online romps.

Internet dating can truly be fun and convenient. Do however keep sensible dating advice tucked under your belt at all times. Your safety should always be your main concern.

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How do show your interest, without selling the whole shop?

2009-09-05T09:37:00.000-07:00

Dressed to Kill

The way you go about it, tells who you are and what your style is.
Some women believe that what a man sees is what gets him interested, the best lure being eye-candy.
Others believe that it's your eyes that make the first impression. So, if you are dressed to kill - you must first entice his eyes away from your cleavage.

Then again, some believe in being direct and asking for what they want.

Some men will find this confronting, but most - once they start breathing again, find this approach a bonus, as in the easier it is - the better.

Still other women prefer to get to know a man better, having him 'prove' himself, therefore being less of a risk.

Just as each woman has a unique style, so too, men respond to those signals differently.

Not all men find the same women or styles enticing. Some men are scared by 'direct' women, who make the first move. For some, directness translates to - 'come hither'.

For some men, it's your mind they find interesting, as in conversation and wit. Not very many men will find scientific discourses a turn on. Some men will openly admit that how you look is the first thing to attract them.

Obviously, the way in which you present yourself, or your style, will be noticed by men who are attracted to that particular style.

If, for instance, you are not comfortable exhibiting lots of flesh - don't dress that way. Large expanses of exposed skin will attract men with that preference, who will therefore expect this to be 'your' style.

It is always fun to doll yourself up - but don't sell yourself out.

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BLACK TESTICLES

2008-01-14T23:55:00.000-08:00

A male patient is lying in bed in the hospital, wearing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. A young, student nurse appears to give him a partial
sponge bath. Nurse', he mumbles, from behind the mask. 'Are my testicles black?'

Embarrassed, the young nurse replies, 'I don't know, Sir. I'm only here to
wash your upper body and feet.'

He struggles to ask again, 'Nurse, please check. Are my testicles black?'

Concerned that he may elevate his blood pressure and heart rate from worry about his testicles, she overcomes her embarrassment and pulls back the covers. She raises his gown, holds his manhood in one hand and his testicles in the other.

Then, she takes a close look and says, There's nothing wrong with them,
Sir!'

The man pulls off his oxygen mask, smiles at her and says very slowly,
'Thank you very much. That was wonderful, but, listen very, very
closely......

A r e - m y - t e s t - r e s u l t s - b a c k ?

Confession of Gum Swallower

2007-11-12T21:04:00.000-08:00

This is the confession of a gum-swallower. I admit it. For as long as I can remember, I have always swallowed my bubble gum instead of throwing it out. This used to be a major subject of contention with my mother when I was a child, as she was convinced that the practice would lead to my untimely demise.

The gum mass was indigestible according to her, you see, and as such could not pass properly through the gastrointestinal tract. I was at great risk of numerous medical conditions because of this questionable assertion, including "twisted intestines," "stomach pileup," and choking to death on my own vomit after the bubble gum body inevitably attempts to escape through my esophagus, closing the pipes indefinitely on the way out.

Naturally, I never believed a single word the old lady said. I've been a gum-swallower my entire life, right up until my mid-20s. It was only then that I experienced a veritable epiphany of how wise my mother may actually have been.

Several weeks ago, I purchased a fairly large quantity of Dubble Bubble for my daughter's gum ball machine. The amount of gum I acquired was directly proportional to my own developed taste for the product, since it resembled crack cocaine in addictiveness. After originally buying the pre-filled gum ball machine, I'd proceeded to consume almost the entire contents in just a few short days, and thought I'd better stock-up on the stuff if I was to maintain a positive relationship with my young child.

Unfortunately, much like Al Pacino in "Scarface," when confronted with such a sizable amount of pseudo-cocaine, I attacked it with relish. I practically lived off bubble gum for several days. I couldn't get enough. I ate six, seven, sometimes eight small globes at a time in an attempt to find the perfect mix of synthetic flavors.

I studied the texture of chewed gum by placing the most perfect tooth and finger print impressions ever taken outside of a crime lab. I watched with fascination as I created drab shades of gray from the most myriad selection of brightly colored items. I was almost a scientist of bubblegum by the end of those few days, you see. And each experiment became yet another lump lying heavy on my stomach.

Alas, I was destined for trouble. After consuming such a vast quantity of bubble gum, certain bodily processes started to become strange. My bowel movements rotated from frequent to nearly constipated for several days. For the life of me, I couldn't predict at what point the need to crap would attack.

When I did plop down to plop, both the defecation process and the subsequent wiping would seem almost...Sticky.

This went on for another day or two. It was only then that an event occurred that would change my philosophy on gum swallowing forever. Perhaps the bolus of evil had lodged itself in my colon somewhere just as my mother claimed it would, or perhaps the passing of such hideousness naturally requires an extended length of time; I fear I will never know the answer. All I know is that during an otherwise perfectly normal evening of watching television and reading a book, the cramps began.

I'm reasonably confident that I know what childbirth feels like now. It felt as though my colon was uncoiling and recoiling itself within my abdomen. I rushed to the bathroom and sat down, expecting a torrent of acidic pain. Ah, if only I'd been so lucky! When the defecation came, it felt as though it came out sideways. My sphincter cried out in agony, the toilet sang in joy at the miracle it was about to receive. When I regained consciousness and brought myself to the point of wiping, I discovered the true horror of the evening.

Before continuing, I consider it necessary to make one qualification. I possess a rather... How you say, furry posterior. I freely admit this. I am a man of gum swallowing and a hairy ass. A hairy ass that was now virtually plastered with partially digested bubble gum.

If you've ever tried to get gum out of the hair on your head, you'll understand the conundrum that I was in. Once bubble gum has attached itself to the hair follicle, the two are inseparable. Inseparable like night and day. Inseparable like my ass CHEEKS now were, welded together with a mass of rapidly hardening cement.

After realizing what had happened, I understandably wished to keep the gravity of the situation private. One does not glue his ass cheeks together with fecal bubble gum and spread the proverbial word, you see. And so, I sat and thought. Thought HARD. What do you do? How am I going to get myself out of this one?

Okay, let's think about this. We have an uneven mass of bubble gum in the ass hair. It needs to come out, obviously. But how do you get gum out of hair? I recall someone telling me that peanut butter is the only recourse. No, f**k that, I'm not making a goddamn sandwich in my ass.

The thought of slathering brown sludge in with other brown sludge was not appealing. Well, option number one: rip it out. Old school, yo!!. So, using a small strip of toilet paper as a shield, I grabbed a lump of the offending plaster and yanked.

WELL HOLY BUGGERY DUCKNUTS, BATMAN! That made my eyes water and my skull expand. Option number one is officially discarded, along with a healthy strip of my taint. Where do we go from here? Well, maybe option number one isn't *totally* flawed. I'll take a shower! That'll loosen it up, right?

WRONG.

The bubble gum has become ONE with my ass hair now. They are no longer separate entities by any stretch of the imagination. They are joined at the cellular level. Their electrons circle each other in a spinning mass of beauty and PAIN.

Now what? The taint is an area of the body far too sensitive to have hair ripped from it. You might as well expect me to rip off my arm to scratch an itch on my finger. It was around then that I came to the only logical conclusion. We have to *shave* it out, old bean. I'm sorry, dear sweet anus, but it's the onlyway. But what shall I shave it with, dear Liza, dear Liza?

I can't use the hand razor I shave my face with, certainly; would I be able to shear my whiskers every morning while knowing where it had been? That micro-globs of poo-gum were being ground into my cheeks and neck?

No, certainly not! I do, however, have a small beard trimmer that might do the job. It was only a few dollars at Wal-Mart, after all; I can burn it when I'm done. Alrighty then, pants off, left leg up on the sink, offending mass of bubble gum presented comfortably, mirror positioned on the floor to help me aim. Okay, razor on, let's do this thing!

DEAR SWEET ZOMBIE IT'S STUCK!

Well isn't this wonderful, the undeniable reflex to jump and run from pain has kicked in! I'm now hopping around the bathroom with this two inch electric razor jammed firmly into my ass, dangling around like some sort of freakish technological tail.

The forces of physics have turned on me now. Gravity pulls the razor down as the momentum of my pain dance spins and twists it ever further into the tenderness of my crack. Screams begin to emerge through my gritted teeth. I try desperately to avoid waking my child and/or alerting my delightfully unsuspicious wife. After all, what would I tell them?
"Are you okay, dear?"
"Daddy, what's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing much. I tried to shave the bubble gum out of my ass, and now I'm waving the razor around like a second penis. Don't mind me, go back to sleep!"

Okay, I've calmed myself down. I cradle the offending piece of plastic and agony in an attempt to reduce the pressure on my tormented rectum. Well now you're in a real pickle, eh? You thought it couldn't get any worse, didn't you?

It was around this point that I started to get my head on straight. One must keep in mind how difficult it is to employ high-level cognitive abilities when one is experiencing pain in his most sensitive of areas. Thankfully, my wits had returned.

The razor wasn't going to come out. I was faced with several options: A)Shave it out. B)Cut it out.
Solution A wasn't viable since I'd already destroyed my only non-vital razor. The only problem with B was that there were no scissors in the bathroom; in fact, the only scissors I could think of were down the hall, within the cutlery drawer of the kitchen. My wife was using the computer in the living room, and could very likely see the bathroom door...
Yet the pros greatly outweighed the cons.

So, hopping like a crippled dog, I held the electric beard trimmer firmly against my battered ass hair and fumbled my way down the hall, praying to any possible deities that my wife wouldn't take this occasion to come get a snack or a glass of water. There was no answer for the situation I was in. The fates decided to smile upon me, I suppose.

It seems perfectly reasonable that they would, of course, since they'd taken it upon themselves to so thoroughly destroy my sanity up until that point. I managed to duck-walk my way back to the bathroom, and with a carefulness that only a surgeon could appreciate, delicately extracted the clipper from myself.

Using the scissors, it didn't take all that long to snip away the majority of my post-gum. I shaved two long swaths into my ass, in fact, which resulted in the most agonizing discomfort over the next few days.

Imagine rubbing two sheets of coarse sandpaper together. Then imagine a thin coat of unabsorbed poop-sweat turning the whole thing into a circus of embarrassment and skid marks. If there's a deep and philosophical message to be found in what I've written, it's lost on me. All I know is that under no circumstances should you ever... EVER...Swallow your bubble gum.

Cuba Good Jr. discovers the effects of Cialis the hard way.

2007-09-07T05:54:00.000-07:00